Book 22
1
Seeing that we’ve nothing to do, Antisthenes and Crates, why don’t we make straight for the entrance, to have a walk around, and see what the newcomers are like, and how each of them acts?
1
Let’s do that, Diogenes. It will be a pleasant sight to see some of them weeping, others begging to be let go, and some most reluctant to come down, resisting, though Hermes pushes them along head foremost, lying on their backs, and bracing their bodies against him. Quite unnecessary behaviour!
1
Then I’ll tell you what I saw on my way down.
1
Do tell us, Crates. It looks as though what you saw was really amusing.
2
We had quite a crowd with us on our way down, but the most distinguished were our rich countryman Crates was a Theban. Ismenodorus, Arsaces, governor of Media, and Oroetes the Armenian. Well, Ismenodorus, who’d been killed by bandits on his way past Cithaeron to Eleusis, I believe, was groaning, holding his wound with both hands, and calling upon the young children he had left behind, reproaching himself for his rashness in only bringing two servants when crossing Cithaeron and passing the district round Eleutherae, when it had been desolated by the wars, although he was taking five golden bowls and four cups with him.
3
Arsaces, an old man, and, in all truth, not undignified to look at, showed his annoyance in true barbarian fashion at having to walk, and kept calling for his horse; for his horse had been killed with him, both pierced by the same blow from a Thracian targeteer in the fight with the Cappadocians by the Araxes. Arsaces was riding, he told us, a long way ahead of the rest, when the Thracian, standing his ground and crouching beneath his shield, parried his lance, and, planting his pike beneath him, pierced both man and horse with it.
4
How, Crates, could that be done by one blow?
