BOOK III. XXVI. 22-27
in a bath, and stretched yourself out like men who have been crucified, you may be massaged on this side and on that; and that then the masseur may stand over you and say, "Move over, give me his side, you take his head, hand me his shoulder"; and then, when you have left the bath and gone home, that you may shout out, "Is no one bringing me something to eat?" and after that, "Clear away the tables; wipe them off with a sponge." What you are afraid of is this—that you may not be able to live the life of an invalid, since, I tell you, you have only to learn the life of healthy men—how the slaves live, the workmen, the genuine philosophers, how Socrates lived—he too with a wife and children—how Diogenes lived, how Cleanthes, who combined going to school and pumping water.[1] If this is what you want, you will have it everywhere, and will live with full confidence. Confidence in what? In the only thing in which one can have confidence—in what is faithful, free from hindrance, cannot be taken away, that is, in your own moral purpose. 25And why have you made yourself so useless and unprofitable, that no one is willing to take you into his house, no one willing to take care of you? But when a whole and useful implement has been thrown out, anyone who finds it will pick it up and count it gain; yet not when he picks up you, but everyone will count you a loss. You are so unable to serve the purpose of even a dog or a cock. Why, then, do you care to keep on living, if that is the sort of person you are?
Does a good man fear that food will fail him? It does not fail the blind, it does not fail the lame; will it fail a good man? A good soldier does not lack someone to give him pay, or a workman, or a
- ↑ Diogenes Laertius, 7, 168.
