Book 3
1
Pluto, we can’t stand having this Dog, Menippus, for our neighbour. So put him somewhere else, or we’ll move ourselves.
1
What harm does he do you as a fellow-shade?
1
Whenever we moan and groan at our memories of life above, Midas recalling his gold, Sardanapalus Assur-Bani-Pal. his great luxury, and I, Croesus, my treasures, he mocks and reviles us, calling us slaves and scum: sometimes he even disturbs our lamentations by singing. In short, he’s a pest.
1
What’s this they tell me, Menippus?
1
True enough, Pluto; I hate them; they’re low scoundrels, not content with having led bad lives, but even in death they remember their past and cling to it. That’s why I enjoy tormenting them.
1
You shouldn’t; they mourn great losses.
1
Are you a fool too, Pluto? Do you approve of their groanings?
1
Not at all, but I wouldn’t like you to be quarrelling.
2
Even so, you lowest of the low from Lydia, Phrygia and Assyria, I’d have you know that I’ll never stop. Wherever you go, I’ll follow, tormenting you with my songs and mockery.
2
Isn’t this outrageous?
2
No, the outrageous thing was your behaviour, when you expected people to worship you, treated free men with contempt, and forgot all about death. That’s why you’re going to lament the loss of all those things.
2
Oh, ye gods, many and great possessions they were!
2
All my gold!
2
All my luxury!
2
Bravo, go on. You keep up your whimperings, and I’ll accompany you with song, with a string of “Know-Thyself” s for my refrain. That’s the proper accompaniment for such lamentations.
