nassus,—no man that ever died has the like; so beautifully is it finished, men and horses sculptured to the life out of the finest marble: you can scarce find even temple like it. Don't you think I have a right to be proud of all this?
Diog. Because of your kingdom, you say?—and your fine person,—and the great weight of your tomb?
Maus. Yes; that is what I am proud of.
Diog. But, my handsome friend (ha-ha!), you haven't much left of that strength and beauty that you talk about. If we asked any one to decide between our claims to good looks, I don't see why they should prefer your skull to mine. Both of us are bald and naked,—both of us show our teeth a good deal,—neither of us have any eyes,—and our noses are both rather fat. The tomb, indeed, and the marble statues, the men of Halicarnassus may show to their visitors, and boast of them as ornaments of their land; but as to you, my good friend, I don't see what good your monument does you: unless you may say this—that you bear a greater weight upon you than I do, pressed down as you are by all those heavy stones.
Maus. Are none of my glories to profit me, then? And are Mausolus and Diogenes to stand here on equal terms?
Diog. No; not exactly equal, most excellent sir; not at all. Mausolus has to lament when he remembers his earthly lot, how happy he was,—and Diogenes can laugh at him. And Mausolus can say how he had the tomb built for him at Halicarnassus by his wife and sister; while Diogenes does not know—and
