Reader

MENIPPUS My dear Cerberus—I’m a relation, being a Dog myself—I beg you, in the name of the Styx, to tell me what Socrates was like when he came down to you. Seeing that you’re a god, you can be expected not merely to bark, but also to talk like a human when you wish. CERBERUS When he was at a distance, Menippus, his face seemed completely impassive as he approached, and he appeared to have not the slightest fear of death, and he wanted to impress this on those who stood outside the entrance, but when he had peeped into the chasm, and seen the darkness, and I had bitten him and dragged him by the foot, because he was still slowed down by the hemlock, he shrieked like an infant, and cried for his children and went frantic.

MENIPPUS Then the fellow was just a sham, and didn’t really despise his plight? CERBERUS No, but since he could see it was inescapable, he put on a bold front, pretending he would be glad to accept what was quite inevitable, all to win the admiration of the onlookers. I could Generalise about all such men: as far as the entrance, they are bold and brave, but what comes inside is the real test. MENIPPUS What did you think of me, when I came down? CERBERUS You alone were a credit to your breed—you and Diogenes before you, because you came in without having to be forced or pushed, but of your own accord, laughing and cursing at everyone.