When you have ask'd a friend to come to supper,
Do not be angry when you see him come;
That is the part of an unworthy man;
But give yourself to happy thoughts of joy,
And study to amuse your friend and guest.
But now men utterly forget all these rules, and they recollect only the lines which follow them, which are all written in imitation of the Great Eoæ which are attributed to Hesiod, and which are also meant as a parody on his great work, Works and Days:—
When any of us does celebrate
A sacrifice, and bids his friends to th' feast,
Still, if he come, we're vex'd and look askance,
And wish him to depart without delay.
And he his want of welcome soon perceives
And reassumes his shoes; when some one rises
Of the surrounding revellers, and says,
"Here, my friend, do not go; why won't you drink?
Take off your shoes." And then the host again
Is angry with the guest who calls him back,
And quotes some scraps of poetry against him,—
"Remember, always speed the parting guest,
And when a man is sleeping let him rest."
Do not we in this manner oft behave
When feasting those we choose to call our friends?
And, moreover, we add this:—
Let not a numerous party vex your mind,
For more are pleased, and the cost's near the same.
67. And when we are sacrificing to the gods, we spend as little as possible upon our sacrifices, and give them the most ordinary presents; as the admirable Menander tells us, in his Drunkenness:—
We don't do other things as we perform
Our duties to the gods. We sacrifice
One sheep scarce worth ten or a dozen drachmæ;
But for our flute-women, our perfumes rich,
Our harpers, Thasian and Mendæan wine,
Eels, cheese, and honey to regale ourselves,
We do not a whole talent think too much.
'Tis very well to spend a dozen drachmæ
When we are sacrificing to the gods,
But if you much curtail that slight expense,
Are you not thus dishonouring the gods?
I, if I were a god, would ne'er allow
A scanty loin of beef to load my altars,
Unless an eel were also sacrificed,
So that Callimedon might die of rage.
