Lamp. If she has not done quite that, she uses words which any one would sooner sell his life than listen to.
Soc. And how many annoyances have you caused your mother, do you suppose, by fretfulness and peevishness in word and deed, night and day, since you were a little boy? How much sorrow and pain, when you were ill?
Lamp. Well, I never said or did anything to bring a blush to her cheeks. Soc. No, come now! Do you suppose it is harder for you to listen to your mother's speeches than for actor to listen to actor on the tragicstage, when the floodgates of abuse are opened?
See Grote, "H. G." viii. 457; Plut. "Solon," xxix.
Lamp. Yes; for the ****** reason that they know it is all talk on their parts. The inquisitor may cross-question, but he will not inflict a fine; thethreatener may hurl his menaces, but he will do no mischief--that is why they take it all so easily.
Soc. Then ought you to fly into a passion, who know well enough that, whatever your mother says, she is so far from meaning you mischief that she is actually wishing blessings to descend upon you beyond all others? Or do you believe that your mother is really ill disposed towards you?
Lamp. No, I do not think that.
Soc. Then this mother, who is kindly disposed to you, and takes such tender care of you when you are ill to make you well again, and to see that you want for nothing which may help you; and, more than all, who is perpetually pleading for blessings in your behalf and offering her vows to Heaven--can you say of her that she is cross-grained and harsh? For my part, I think, if you cannot away with such a mother, you cannot away with such blessings either.
Or, "paying vows."
But tell me (he proceeded), do you owe service to any living being, think you? or are you prepared to stand alone? Prepared not to please or try to please a single soul? to follow none? To obey neither general nor ruler of any sort? Is that your attitude, or do you admit that you owe allegience to somebody?
Lamp. Yes; certainly I owe allegiance.
Soc. May I take it that you are willing to please at any rate your neighbour, so that he may kindle a fire for you in your need, may prove himself a ready helpmate in good fortune, or if you chance on evil and are stumbling, may friendlily stand by your side to aid?
Lamp. I am willing.
Soc. Well, and what of that other chance companion--your fellow- traveller by land or sea? what of any others, you may light upon? is it indifferent to you whether these be friends or not, or do you admit that the goodwill of these is worth securing by some pains on your part?
Lamp. I do.
Soc. It stands thus then: you are prepared to pay attention to this, that, and the other stranger, but to your mother who loves you more than allelse, you are bound to render no service, no allegiance? Do you not know that whilst the state does not concern itself with ordinary ingratitude or pass judicial sentence on it; whilst it overlooks the thanklessness of those who fail to make return for kindly treatment, it reserves its pains and penalties for the special case? If a man render not the service and allegiance due to his parents, on him the finger of the law is laid; his name is struck off the roll; he is forbidden to hold the archonship--which is as much as to say, "Sacrifices in behalf of the state offered by such a man would be no offerings, being tainted with impiety; nor could aught else be 'well and justly' performed of which he is the doer." Heaven help us! If a man fail to adorn the sepulchre of his dead parents the state takes cognisance of the matter, and inquisition is made in the scrutiny of the magistrates. And as for you, my son, if you are in your sober senses, you will earnestly entreat your mother, lest the very gods take you to be an ungrateful being, and on their side also refuse to do you good; and you will beware of men also, lest they should perceive your neglect of your parents, and with one consent hold you in dishonour; and so you find yourself in a desert devoid of friends. For if once the notion be entertained that here is a man ungrateful to his parents, no one will believe that any kindness shown you would be other than thrown away.
Lit. "the docimasia." See Gow, "Companion," xiv. "Visiti with atimia."
