of some volcano, and so learn not to revile his betters.
Plato. Nay—the best punishment for him will be that, like Pentheus or Orpheus,—
"Torn by the ragged rocks he meet his fate."
Lucian. Oh no, no, pray! spare me, for the love of heaven!
Soc. Sentence is passed: nothing can save you. For, as Homer says,—
"'Twixt men and lions, say, what truce can hold?"
Luc. And I implore you, too, in Homer's words—you will respect him, perhaps, and not reject me, when I give you a recitation,—
But his captors have an answer ready out of Homer's inexhaustible repertory; and an appeal which the prisoner makes to Euripides is met in a similar manner. Lucian begs at least to be heard in his own defence. He will prove that he is really the champion and patron of true philosophy, to whom he owes all that he knows. Let him at least have a fair trial, before any judge they please. None can be better than Philosophy herself; but where can she be found? Lucian himself does not know where she lives, though he has often made inquiry. He has seen men in grave
- ↑ Parodied from Homer, Il. x. 378, &c. But the last half-line is Lucian's own.
