That man has the horse of Seius

From Aulus Gellius’ Attic Nights 3.9. Also reported in Erasmus’ Adagia 997 (citing Gellius).

The characteristics of the horse of Seius, which is mentioned in the proverb…

Gavius Bassus in his Commentaries, and Julius Modestus in the second book of his Miscellaneous Questions, tell the history of the horse of Seius, a tale wonderful and worthy of record. They say that there was a clerk called Gnaeus Seius, and that he had a horse foaled at Argos, in the land of Greece, about which there was a persistent tradition that it was sprung from the breed of horses that had belonged to the Thracian Diomedes, those which Hercules, after slaying Diomedes, had taken from Thrace to Argos. They say that this horse was of extraordinary size, with a lofty neck, bay in colour, with a thick, glossy mane, and that it was far superior to all horses in other points of excellence; but that same horse, they go on to say, was of such a fate or fortune, that whoever owned and possessed it came to utter ruin, as well as his whole house, his family and all his possessions. Thus, to begin with, that Gnaeus Seius who owned him was condemned and suffered a cruel death at the hands of Marcus Antonius, afterwards one of the triumvirs for setting the State in order. 1 At that same time Cornelius Dolabella, the consul, on his way to Syria, attracted by the renown of this horse, turned aside to Argos, was fired with a desire to own the animal, and bought it for a hundred thousand sesterces; but Dolabella in his turn was besieged in Syria during the civil war, and slain. And soon afterwards Gaius Cassius, who had besieged Dolabella, carried off this same horse, which had been Dolabella’s. It is notorious too that this Cassius, after his party had been vanquished and his army routed, met a wretched end. Then later, after the death of Cassius, Antonius, who had defeated him, sought for this famous horse of Cassius, and after getting possession of it was himself afterwards defeated and deserted in his turn, and died an ignominious death. Hence the proverb, applied to unfortunate men, arose and is current: “That man has the horse of Seius.”


Quis et cuiusmodi fuerit qui in proverbio fertur equus Seianus …

Gavius Bassus in commentariis suis, item Iulius Modestus in secundo Quaestionum Confusarum, historiam de equo Seiano tradunt dignam memoria atque admiratione: Gnaeum Seium quempiam scribam fuisse eumque habuisse equum natum Argis in terra Graecia, de quo fama constans esset tamquam de genere equorum progenitus foret qui Diomedis Thracis fuissent, quos Hercules, Diomede occiso, e Thracia Argos perduxisset. Eum equum fuisse dicunt magnitudine invisitata, cervice ardua, colore poeniceo, flora et comanti iuba, omnibusque aliis equorum laudibus quoque longe praestitisse; sed eundem equum tali fuisse fato sive fortuna ferunt, ut quisquis haberet eum possideretque, ut is cum omni domo, familia fortunisque omnibus suis ad internecionem deperiret. Itaque primum illum Gnaeum Seium, dominum eius, a M. Antonio, qui postea triumvirum reipublicae constituendae fuit, capitis damnatum, miserando supplicio affectum esse; eodem tempore Cornelium Dolabellam consulem, im Syriam proficiscentem, fama istius equi adductum Argos devertisse cupidineque habendi eius exarsisse emisseque eum sestertiis centum milibus; sed ipsum quoque Dolabellam in Syria bello civili obsessum atque interfectum esse; mox eundem equum, qui Dolabellae fuerat, C. Cassium, qui Dolabellam obsederat, abduxisse. Eum Cassium postea satis notum est victis partibus fusoque exercitu suo miseram mortem oppetisse, deinde post Antonium, post interitum Cassii parta victoria, equum illum nobilem Cassi requisisse et, cum eo potitus esset, ipsum quoque postea victum atque desertum, detestabili exitio interisse. Hinc proverbium de hominibus calamitosis ortum dicique solitum: “Ille homo habet equum Seianum.”

Fools praising fools and dunces praising dunces

From Erasmus’ Praise of Folly/Encomium Moriae (section 50), Folly speaking:

The daintiest thing is when they compliment each other, turn about, in an exchange of letters, verses, and puffs; fools praising fools and dunces praising dunces. The first, in the opinion of the second, is an Alcaeus; the second, in the opinion of the first, is a Callimachus. One puts another far above Cicero; the other then finds the one more learned than Plato. Or sometimes they will pick out a competitor and increase their reputation through rivalry with him. As a result, the doubtful public is split into opposing camps, until, when the battle is well over, each leaves the field as victor and each has a triumphal parade. Wise men deride all this as most foolish, as indeed it is. Who denies it? But meanwhile, by my boon our authors lead a sweet life, nor would they exchange their triumphs for those of the Scipios. And while the scholars indeed have a great deal of fun laughing at them, and savor to the full the madnesses of others, they themselves owe a good deal to me, which they cannot disavow without being the most ungrateful of men.


Illud autem lepidissimum, cum mutuis epistolis, carminibus, encomiis sese vicissim laudant, stulti stultos, indoctos indocti. Hic illius suffragio discedit Alceus, ille huius Callimachus: ile huic est M. Tullio superior, hic illi Platone doctior. Nonnumquam etiam antagonistam quaerunt, cuius aemulatione famam augeant. Hic scinditur incertum studia in contraria vulgus, donec uterque dux re bene gesta victor discedit, uterque triumphum agit. Rident haec sapientes, ut, veluti sunt, stultissima. Quis enim negat? Sed interim meo beneficio suavem vitam agunt, ne cum Scipionibus quidem suos triumphos commutari. Quamquam docti quoque interim dum haec magna cum animi voluptate rident, et aliena fruuntur insania, non paulum mihi debent et ipsi, quod inficari possunt, nisi sint omnium ingratissimi.

It is possibly uncharitable but all I see here is the carousel of reviewers and this year’s ‘revolutionary new voices.’

Noctua volat – the owl flies

Erasmus Adagia 76:

From the same superstition this Greek proverb take its origin: ‘the owl flies’ or ‘the owl has flown.’ Among the early Athenians the flight of an owl was thought representative of victory because this bird was believed sacred to Athena, who was said to bring good fortune to any doing of Athens, even when poorly planned. On this topic I’ll speak later in the proverb ‘Atheniensium inconsulta temeritas‘. From this association it was customary to say ‘the owl flies’ when matters went well and as desired. Zenodotus and Suidas provide the authority on this.
Not unwittily is an owl said to have flown whenever a matter is thought completed not by energy or strength but by the intervention of money – since the Athenian money had an owl imprinted on it. Whence also that proverb ‘Lauriotic Owls’ which is recounted elsewhere.

Ex eadem superstitione manauit et illud Graecanicum: Γλαὺξ ἵπταται, [G] siue ἵπτατο, [C] id est [A] Noctua volat, [C] siue volauit. [A] Nam priscis Atheniensibus noctuae volatus victoriae symbolum existimabatur, propterea quod auis haec Mineruae sacra crederetur, quae quidem dicta est etiam male consulta Atheniensium bene fortunare. [C] Qua de re copiosius aliquanto dicemus in prouerbio Atheniensium inconsulta temeritas. [A] Inde rebus felicius atque ex animi sententia succedentibus dici consueuit Noctua volat. Autores Zenodotus et Suidas. [G] Non illepide dicetur volasse noctua, quoties res non viribus, sed pecuniarum interuentu confecta creditur, quod Atheniensium nomisma noctuam haberet insculptam. Vnde et illud Laurioticae noctuae, quod alibi recensetur.

The two other proverbs are numbers 744 and 1731.

So you could say this man truly had his throat slit by his own sword


Erasmus Adagia 51. I’m giving the full Latin at bottom but only translating the beginning and end.

‘Having your throat cut by your own sword or weapon’ is said of someone who is beaten by his own words or captured by his own stratagem or trick…. [Following examples of the metaphor, Erasmus concludes by mentioning that] Trebellius Pollio tells of Marius, one of the thirty tyrants, who was slain by a soldier who told him “here is the sword you yourself made.” For Marius had been a blacksmith before getting power and had employed this soldier in his workshop. So you could say this man truly had his throat slit by his own sword.

SVO SIBI HVNC IVGVLO GLADIO, SVO TELO51


530




535
  c536-539



540




545




550

LB 49


555



Suo gladio suoue telo iugulari dicitur, qui suis ipsius dictis reuincitur aut qui
suopte inuento doloue capitur, denique in quem quocunque modo seu dictum
seu factum retorquetur, quod ab ipso profectum sit, veluti si quis exemplo
Protagorae antistrephon dilemma in eum, qui proposuerit, retorqueat aut si
quemadmodum Phalaris Perillum mali repertorem suo inuento conficiat.
Itaque in Adelphis Terentii Mitio senex fratris Demeae saeuitiam increpans
huiusmodi vtitur sententiaHoc vnum affert vitii senecta, attentiores ad rem sumus
quam oportet. Eandem Demea paulo post in fratrem retorquens,
 Postremo, inquit, non meum illud verbum facio, quod tu, Mitio,
 Bene et sapienter dixti dudum. Vitium commune omnium est,
 Quod nimium ad rem in senecta attenti sumus. Hanc maculam nos decet
 Effugere.
Hac ratione cum Mitio constringeretur adigereturque, vt agrum, quem
rogabatur, daret, turti Demea Suo, inquitsibi hunc iugulo gladio. Translata
metaphora ab his, qui in pugna suis ipsorum telis aliquoties confodiuntur.167
Plautus in Amphitryone:
 Atque hunc telo suo sibi, malitia sua, a foribus pellere.
Cicero pro Cecinna: Aut tuo, quemadmodum dicitur, gladio aut nostro defensio tua
conficiatur necesse est.
 Huc allusit Ouidius in Epistolis Heroidum:
 Remigiumque dedi, quo me fugiturus abires;
     Heu, patior telis vulnera facta meis.

Eodem pertinent et illa CiceronisIn tuum ipse mucronem incurras, necesse est.
RursumHic est defensionis tuae mucro; in eum incurrat oratio tua necesse est. Neque
vehementer hinc abludit Liuianum illud [Glibro ii. de secundo bello Punico:
[ASentiebat Hannibal suis | se artibus peti. Lucianus in Piscatoribus: Ὡς παρ᾽168
ἡμῶν τὰ τοξεύματα, ὡς φής, λαβὼν καθ᾽ ἡμῶν ἐτόξευες, id est Quae quidem tela
a nobis, vti fateris, sumpta aduersus nos iaculatus es. [B] Tradit Plutarchus Brasidam
ducem educto e corpore telo eodem confodisse eum, qui miserat. [C] Marius
vnus e triginta tyrannis a milite quodam interemptus narratur a Trebellio
Pollione, qui adoriens dixerit: Hic est gladius, quem ipse fecisti; nam Marius ante
imperium faber ferrarius fuerat et eius militis opera in fabrili officina vsus.
Hunc igitur vere suo gladio dixeris iugulatum.

Ea est odiorum Ilias

In time for the coming holidays, from Plautus’ Miles Gloriosus 740-743 (The Braggart Soldier), text and translation of the new Loeb edition:

no guest can put up at such a great friend’s place that he wouldn’t be a nuisance as soon as it’s been three days in a row; but when it’s ten days in a row, it’s a whole Iliad of hatred.

nam hospes nullus tam in amici hospitium deuorti potest
quin, ubi triduom continuom fuerit, iam odiosus siet;
uerum ubi dies decem continuos sit, ea est odiorum Ilias:

Plautus’ exact phrase (odiorum Ilias) is a weird one. The Greek version – κακῶν Ἰλιὰς – was enough of an ancient proverb that Erasmus covered it at Adagia 226 – Ilias Malorum, though he fails there to mention what seems the first (traceable) instance of the phrase itself – Demosthenes’ use in De Falsa Legatione (On the False Embassy).

καὶ κακῶν Ἰλιὰς περιειστήκει Θηβαίους.
and an Iliad of woes surrounded the Thebans.

What’s weird in Plautus is obvious from comparison with Erasmus’ Latin rendering – Ilias Malorum, which likely comes from Cicero’s use (Ad Atticum viii. 11) – Tanta malorum impendet Ilias (so great an Iliad of troubles hangs over us). κακόν as substantive carries the sense of ‘evils, ills’ – which is better matched in Latin by malus than odium. But maybe it’s an issue of Plautine usage since there is – according to Lewis and Short – a close transferred sense: “In gen., the object of hatred; hence, an offenceannoyancedisgust, said of persons or things.”

Sus cum Minerva certamen suscepit

Erasmus Adagia 41:

Sus cum Minerva certamen suscepit
A pig undertakes a contest with Minerva


The same or at least as close as possible to this is found in Theocritus’ Idylls.

Ὗς ποτ᾽ Ἀθηναίαν ἔριν ἤρισε
A pig once challenged Athena to a quarrel

It is said whenever the ignorant and dull-witted, ready to fight, are not afraid to challenge men of the highest learning in a literary competition. Theocritus commentator writes that the phrase is commonly used thus: Ὗς ὢν πρὸς Ἀθήνην ἐρίζεις (though a pig, you quarrel with Athena). Some scholiast adds that ἐρίζειν is used for those who compete with words and ἐρείδειν for those who compete with deeds – which makes it all the more laughable, if an unteachable pig competes with Minerva, the guardian of studies.

Cum hoc aut idem aut certe quam maxime finitimum, quod apud Theocritum
legitur in Hodoeporis:

Ὗς ποτ᾽ Ἀθηναίαν ἔριν ἤρισε, id est
Cum diua est ausus sus decertare Minerua.

Quoties indocti stolidique et depugnare parati non verentur summos in omni
doctrina viros in certamen literarium prouocare. Theocriti enarrator sic efferri
vulgo παροιμίαν scribit: Ὗς ὢν πρὸς Ἀθήνην ἐρίζεις, id est Sus cum sis, cum
Minerua contendis. Scholiastes nescio quis addit eos ἐρίζειν dici, qui verbis
certant, ἐρείδειν, qui factis, quo magis ridiculum est, si sus indocilis certet cum
Minerua disciplinarum praeside.

The reference to Theocritus is to Idyll 5, line 23:

Comatas
By these Nymphs of the lake—and may they be kind and propitious to me—I, Comatas, did not steal away with your pipe.

Lacon
May I have the sufferings of Daphnis if I believe you.6 But if you would like to wager a kid—not a big stake, after all7—then I’ll compete with you in song until you give in.

Comatas
A pig once challenged Athena.8 There: the kid is my stake; now you put forward a fat lamb.

Lacon
And how will that be fair, you trickster? Who shears hair instead of wool? Who wants to milk a wretched dog when a goat is at hand which has just given birth for the first time?

Kοματας
οὐ μάν, οὐ ταύτας τὰς λιμνάδας, ὠγαθέ, Νύμφας,αἵτε μοι ἵλαοί τε καὶ εὐμενέες τελέθοιεν,οὔ τευ τὰν σύριγγα λαθὼν ἔκλεψε Κομάτας.

Lακων
αἴ τοι πιστεύσαιμι, τὰ Δάφνιδος ἄλγε’ ἀροίμαν.ἀλλ’ ὦν αἴ κα λῇς ἔριφον θέμεν, ἔστι μὲν οὐδένἱερόν, ἀλλά γέ τοι διαείσομαι ἔστε κ’ ἀπείπῃς.

Kοματας
ὗς ποτ’ Ἀθαναίαν ἔριν ἤρισεν. ἠνίδε κεῖταιὥριφος· ἀλλ’ ἄγε καὶ τύ τιν’ εὔβοτον ἀμνὸν ἔρειδε.

Lακων
καὶ πῶς, ὦ κίναδος τύ, τάδ’ ἔσσεται ἐξ ἴσω ἄμμιν;τίς τρίχας ἀντ’ ἐρίων ἐποκίξατο; τίς δὲ παρεύσαςαἰγὸς πρατοτόκοιο κακὰν κύνα δήλετ’ ἀμέλγειν;

Ἀμαθέστερον πως εἰπὲ καὶ σαφέστερον

Erasmus Adage 39. Erasmus’ concluding paragraph reminded me of a very good book I read several years ago – Philosophy Between The Lines: The Lost History of Esoteric Writing.

Among the Greeks is a proverb certainly less elegant but nevertheless just as effective: ‘Speak with less learning and with more clarity’ (Ἀμαθέστερον καὶ σαφέστερον εἰπέ), which is found in the same Aulus Gellius: “You know, I believe, that old and widespread phrase, ‘Speak with less learning and with more clarity,’ that is speak with less learning and more simplicity, do it more openly and clearly. It appears this is taken from a comedy of Aristophanes titled The Frogs:

Ἀμαθέστερον πως εἰπὲ καὶ σαφέστερον
Speak with less learning and with more clarity

In that play Bacchus is assessing an obscure statement of Euripides’, which he had set forth with insufficient lucidity. Suidas and the scholiast call attention to a proverb hidden there, which is reported in this way:

Σαφέστερόν μοι κἀμαθέστερον φράσον
Tell me more clearly and less learnedly

I suspect it is taken hence – that in antiquity those sages (σοφοί), as they call them, were accustomed to hide in wrappings of enigmas the mysteries of their wisdom, doubtlessly so that the generality, profane and not yet initiated to the rites of philosophy, not be able to follow them. And even today some professors of philosophy and theology, when they treat of things that some mere woman or workman might say, in order that they might seem learned, enfold and roll up the matter in subtleties (lit. thorns) and worded burdens. So Plato darkened his own philosophy with his talk of numbers. So Aristotle rendered many things much darker through mathematical analogies.



Inelegantius quidem est illud apud Graecos, sed idem tamen pollet: Ἀμαθέστερον καὶ σαφέστερον εἰπέ, quod apud eundem refertur Gellium. Nosti enim, inquit, credo, verbum illud vetus et peruulgatum, Ἀμαθέστερον εἰπὲ καὶ σαφέστερον, id est Indoctius rudiusque quodammodo loquere et apertius ac clarius fare. Sumptum apparet ex Aristophanis comoedia, cui titulus Βάτραχοι, id est Ranae:

Ἀμαθέστερον πως εἰπὲ καὶ σαφέστερον, id est
Indoctius proloquitor atque clarius.

Quo carmine Bacchus Euripidis obscuritatem taxat, qui nescio quid parum dilucide proposuerat. Suidas et interpres admonent subesse prouerbium, quod hunc ad modum feratur:

Σαφέστερόν μοι κἀμαθέστερον φράσον, id est
Apertius mihi loquere atque indoctius.

Suspicor inde sumptum, quod antiquitus illi σοφοί, quos vocant, soleant mysteria sapientiae quibusdam aenigmatum inuolucris data opera obtegere, videlicet ne prophana turba ac nondum philosophiae sacris initiata posset assequi•. [C] Quin et hodie nonnulli philosophiae ac theologiae professores, cum ea quandoque tradant, quae quaeuis muliercula aut cerdo dicturus sit, tamen quo docti videantur, rem spinis quibusdam ac verborum portentis implicant et inuoluunt. Sic Plato numeris suis obscurauit suam philosophiam. Sic Aristoteles multa mathematicis collationibus reddidit obscuriora.

The line from Frogs is 1455, part of an extended exchange where Dionysus, deciding between Aeschylus or Euripides to take back up to Athens, has them both provide advice on how to fix the city. A running theme here is, as phrased in 1434 (ὁ μὲν σοφῶς γὰρ εἶπεν, ὁ δ᾿ ἕτερος σαφῶς), the distinction between the one speaking clearly (σαφῶς) and and the other wisely (σοφῶς). The ordering of the text and assignment of lines in this passage is much contested but the immediate trigger for the proverb is Euripides advising:

ΕΥΡΙΠΙΔΗΣ
ὅταν τὰ νῦν ἄπιστα πίσθ᾿ ἡγώμεθα,τὰ δ᾿ ὄντα πίστ᾿ ἄπιστα—

ΔΙΟΝΥΣΟΣ
πῶς; οὐ μανθάνω.
ἀμαθέστερόν πως εἰπὲ καὶ σαφέστερον

Euripides
When we put our trust in what’s untrusted, and what’s trustworthy is untrusted—

Dionysus
How’s that? I don’t follow. Try to speak somewhat less cleverly and more clearly.

Nothing in Comparison to Parmenon’s Pig

Erasmus’ Adagia 10

 Nothing in Comparison to Parmenon’s Pig

Said about imitation which in great degree falls short of what it imitates.  Plutarch in his Symposiacs, in the second problem of the fifth decade, explains how this adage came about:  There was a certain Parmenon, a man of that sort who even in our time imitate and recreate animal sounds and human voices so skillfully that – though only to listeners, not to those watching – the voices seem real and not imitations.  There is no lack of people whom this skill delights to the greatest degree.  Accordingly, Parmenon is thought to have been most agreeable and famous among the common people because of this skill.  When others tried to imitate him everyone would immediately say, “Εὖ μέν, ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲν πρὸς τὴν Παρμένοντος ὗν” or “Good certainly, but nothing compared to Parmenon’s pig.”

[But then] someone came forward carrying a genuine pig under his arms.  When the people heard the pig’s voice they believed it an imitation and, as they always did, they at once shouted, “Τί οὖν αὕτη πρὸς τὴν Παρμένοντος – Well, what is that compared to Parmenon’s?”  When the genuine pig was brought out and shown about openly, it refuted their judgment, inasmuch as it was formed not in accord with the true situation but through their imagination.  [Plutarch] likewise mentions Parmenon and his counterfeit pig in his commentary On Listening to the Poets.

Not inopportune is the use of this adage whenever someone, deceived in his opinion about a thing, judges it incorrectly.  Like if someone admires an unrefined and new-fashioned epigram persuaded that is is ancient.   Or again if someone condemns as modern something ancient and refined.  So strong is this type of imagination that it burdens even the most learned men in their judgment.


NIHIL AD PARMENONIS SVEM

Οὐδὲν πρὸς τήν Παρμένοντος ὗν, id est Nihil ad Parmenonis suem. De aemula-
tione dictum, quae longo interuallo abesset ab eo quod imitaretur. Plutarchus
in Symposiacis, quintae decadis secundo problemate, quo pacto natum sit
adagium narrat ad hanc ferme sententiam: Parmeno quispiam fuit ex homi-
num eorum genere, qui nostris etiam temporibus varias animantium et
hominum voces ita scite imitantur ac repraesentant, vt audientibus tantum,
non etiam videntibus verae, non imitatae voces videantur. Neque desunt quos
hoc artificium maiorem in modum delectet. Parmenon igitur hac arte vulgo vt
iucundissimus ita etiam celeberrimus fuisse perhibetur; quem cum reliqui
conarentur aemulari ac protinus ab omnibus diceretur illud: Εὖ μέν, ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲν
πρὸς τὴν Παρμένοντος ὗν, hoc est Recte quidem, verum nihil ad Parmenonis suem,
quidam prodiit veram suculam sub alis occultatam gestans. Huius vocem cum
populus imitaticiam esse crederet statimque, sicut solent, reclamarent: Τί οὖν
αὕτη πρὸς τὴν Παρμένοντος; id est Quid haec ad Parmenonis suem? vera sue
deprompta ac propalam ostensa refellit illorum iudicium, vtpote non ex vero
sed ex imaginatione profectum. Meminit idem Parmenonis ac suis
adumbratae in commentariis De audiendis poetis. Nec intempestiuiter
vtemur hoc adagio, quoties aliquis opinione deceptus de re perperam iudicat.
Veluti si quis epigramma parum eruditum ac neotericum supra modum
admiraretur persuasus antiquum esse. Rursum, si quod antiquum esset et
eruditum, ceu nuperum damnaret. Tantum enim valet haec imaginatio, vt
eruditissimis etiam viris in iudicando imponat.

I continue to find Erasmus’ Latin very brusque next to classical.

The Gardens of Tantalus

A delightful new phrase for me from Erasmus Adagia 4 – Adonidis Horti (the Gardens of Adonis).  The phrase receives its own full slot at Adagia 1046 but I only have volume 1 (1-1000) with me at the moment so the tension will be left to mount.

 With a similar metaphor Isaeus, according to Philostratus, labels the passions of youth the Ταντάλου κήπους (Gardens of Tantalus) because they are like shadows and dreams and do not satisfy a man’s spirit but rather goad it on the more.  Likewise, Pollux called the style of Athenodorus the Sophist the gardens of Tantalus because it is it is immature and insubstantial, presenting itself as though it contained something when it has nothing.


Non dissimili figura Isaeus apud Philostratum iuueniles voluptates appellat Ταντάλου κήπους, quod vmbris ac somniis persimiles sint nec expleant hominis animum sed iritent potius. Similiter Pollux sophistae Athenodori dictionem appellabat Tantali hortos, quod iuuenilis esset ac leuis, speciem prae se ferens, quasi esset aliquid, quum nihil esset.

The source in Philostratus (Lives of the Sophists 1.20, page 69 in the Loeb) for Isaeus:

Isaeus, the Assyrian sophist, had devoted the period of his early youth to pleasure, for he was the slave of eating and drinking, dressed himself in elegant stuffs, was often in love, and openly joined in drunken revels. But when he attained to manhood he so transformed himself as to be thought to have become another person, for he discarded both from his countenance and his mind the frivolity that had seemed to come to the surface in him; no longer did he, even in the theatre, hearken to the sounds of the lyre and the flute; he put off his transparent garments and his many-coloured cloaks, reduced his table, and left off his amours as though he had lost the eyes he had before. For instance, when Ardys the rhetorician asked him whether he considered some woman or other handsome, Isaeus replied with much discretion: “I have ceased to suffer from eye trouble.”[ὁ Ἰσαῖος “πέπαυμαι” εἶπεν “ὀφθαλμιῶν.”]  And when someone asked him what sort of bird and what sort of fish were the best eating: “I have ceased,” replied Isaeus, “to take these matters seriously, for I now know that I used to feed on the gardens of Tantalus.” [“πέπαυμαι” ἔφη ὁ Ἰσαῖος “ταῦτα σπουδάζων, ξυνῆκα γὰρ τοὺς Ταντάλου κήπους τρυγῶν,”] Thus he indicated to his questioner that all pleasures are a shadow and a dream.

And for Athenodorus (2.14, page 243 in the Loeb)

Athenodorus the sophist was, by virtue of his ancestors, the most illustrious of the citizens of Aenus, and by virtue of his teachers and his education the most notable of all the educated Greeks in that city. For he was educated by Aristocles while still a mere boy, and by Chrestus when his intelligence began to mature; and from these two he derived his well-tempered dialect, for he both Atticized and employed an ornate style of eloquence. He taught at Athens at the time when Pollux also was teaching there, and in his discourses he used to ridicule him as puerile and would quote “The gardens of Tantalus,” by which I think he meant to compare his light and superficial style of eloquence with some visionary image which both is and is not.

Per publicam viam ne ambules

Erasmus’ Adagia 2.12.

Per publicam viam ne ambules

Λεωφόρου μὴ βαδίζειν, id est Per publicam viam ne ambules. Diuus Hieronymus
exponit: Ne vulgi sequaris errores. Nunquam enim tam bene cum rebus humanis
actum est, vt optima plurimis placuerint. Vnde quidam hoc sic efferunt: Viam
regiam declinato, per semitas ingreditor. Quod quidem praeceptum non abhorret
ab Euangelica doctrina, quae monet, vt declinata via spaciosa per quam
ambulant plerique, per angustam ingrediamur viam a paucis quidem tritam,
sed ducentem ad immortalitatem.

Do not walk along the public way.  Saint Jerome explains: Do not follow the errors of the crowd.  Indeed, never in human affairs has it been possible to act such that the best actions are pleasing to the majority.  For this reason certain authors say it in this way: Avoid the royal road, take the by-ways.  A precept which itself is not in disagreement with the evangelical doctrine, which warns that we should turn away from the spacious way by which the many walk and go by the narrow path which is trod by few but leads to immortality.