the reply. “Things are going very ill with me.”

“And indeed,” said the philosopher, “I thought that you had a somewhat gloomy look. But tell me—what is your trouble? Xenophon here is your kinsman, I know, and you will not mind speaking before him, and he will answer for the discretion of his friend. Or would you prefer that we should go apart and talk, for to that too, I doubt not, these two gentlemen will consent?”

“Nay,” said the man who had been addressed as Aristarchus, “I am not ashamed or unwilling to speak before Xenophon and his friend Callias, in whom I have the pleasure of recognizing a kinsman of my own. For that from which I am suffering, though it troubles me, has nothing shameful in it.”

“Speak on then,” said Socrates, “and, perhaps, among us we shall be able to find some remedy for your trouble. For surely it is of some use to share a burden if it be too heavy for one.”

“Listen then, Socrates,” said Aristarchus, “I have been compelled for kindred’s sake to take into my home not a few ladies, sisters, and nieces, and cousins,[Pg 83] whose husbands or fathers, or other lawful protectors, have either perished in the war, or have been banished. There are fourteen of them in all. Now, as you know, nothing comes in from my country estate, for who will farm that which at any time the enemy may ravage? And from my houses in the city there comes but very little, for how few are they who are able to pay rent? And no business is being done in the city, nor can I borrow any money. Verily there is more chance of finding money in the street, than of borrowing. O, Socrates, ’tis a grievous thing to see my own flesh and blood perish of hunger, and yet, when things are as they are, I cannot find food for so many.”

[Pg 83]

“’Tis grievous indeed,” said Socrates. “But tell me—how comes it to pass that Keramon feeds many persons in his name, and yet can not only provide what is needful for himself and his inmates, but has so much over that he grows rich while you are afraid of perishing of hunger?”

“Nay, Socrates, why ask such a question? The many persons whom he so keeps are slaves, while the inmates of my house are free.”

“Which then, think you, are the worthier, your free persons, or Keramon’s slaves?”

“Doubtless my free persons.”

“But, surely, it is a shame, that he having the less 

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