Letter 101.4

To Marcus Caesar 1.4 [5 Hout; 1.90 Haines] Marcus Caesar to Fronto his master, greeting. 1. Receive now from me a very few words against sleep on behalf of wakefulness. And yet I think I am playing a double game [praevaricor, the term for a prosecutor who secretly colludes with the defense], since day and night, without ceasing, I keep company with sleep, and neither abandon him nor let him abandon me, so close are we as friends. But my wish is that, offended by this accusation of his own, he may withdraw from me for a little while and at last grant me some small chance for burning the midnight oil. So then, my pleasing arguments [epicheiremata, the technical term for a developed argument]: I shall use first that same epicheireme. For if you say that I have taken up for myself an easier subject in accusing sleep than you did in praising it -- "For who," you say, "could not easily accuse sleep?" -- then I reply: whatever is easy to accuse is hard to praise; and whatever is hard to praise is not useful to employ. 2. But this I pass over. Now, since we are spending our days at Baiae in this long-drawn labyrinth of Ulysses, I shall take from Ulysses the few points that bear on this matter. For surely he would not have reached his native land only in the twentieth year, nor wandered so long about that lake, nor endured all those other things that make up the Odyssey, had not then "sweet sleep come upon him in his weariness." And yet "on the tenth day his native fields appeared." But what did sleep do? "The evil counsel of his comrades prevailed: the bag they loosed, and out all the winds rushed forth, and the storm-blast at once seized them and bore them out to sea, weeping, away from their native land." And again, on the island of Trinacria, what happened? "Then they poured sweet sleep upon my eyelids, and Eurylochus began an evil counsel among my comrades." Afterwards, when "they slew the cattle of Helios and the fat sheep, and flayed them, and the thigh-pieces were burned, and they tasted the inner parts" -- what then did the awakened Ulysses do? "Groaning aloud, I cried out to the immortal gods: truly you have lulled me into ruin with pitiless sleep." And sleep did not even allow Ulysses to recognize his own homeland for a long while -- the land of which he "longed to catch sight even of the smoke leaping upward." 3. Now I pass from the son of Laertes to the son of Atreus. For that "with all his force" command which deceived him, and on account of which so many legions are routed and put to flight, surely arises from sleep and from a dream. 4. Again, when the poet praises Agamemnon, what does he say? "There you would not have seen godlike Agamemnon dozing." And when he finds fault? "A counsel-bearing man should not sleep the whole night through" -- the very verses which an excellent orator once turned upside down in a wonderful way. 5. I pass now to our own Quintus Ennius, who, you say, made his beginning from sleep and a dream. But surely, had he not been roused from sleep, he would never have recounted his dream. 6. From here to Hesiod the shepherd, who, you say, was made a poet while sleeping. And yet I remember once reading, long ago, at my schoolmaster's: "As the shepherd was pasturing his flocks beside the track of the swift horse, the swarm of the Muses met Hesiod." That phrase "when it met him" -- you see what it implies: that the Muses came to meet him as he was walking. And what do you think of him, of whom the one who praises him most beautifully says what? "Sweet, most pleasant sleep, most nearly like to death." 7. Let this much suffice -- I have sported with it more out of love for you than out of confidence in myself. Now, having duly accused sleep, I am off to sleep, for I have woven all this in the evening. I only pray that sleep will not pay me back for it.

Baiae , 143 A.D. to his master Fronto, greeting. 1. Hear now a very few points in favour of wakefulness against sleep : and yet methinks I am guilty of collusion, in that I side with sleep night and day without ceasing: I desert him not, nor is he likely to desert me, such cronies are we. But my hope is that he may be huffed at my indictment of him and leave me for a little space, and give me a chance at last of burning some midnight oil. Now for subtle arguments: of which my first, indeed, shall be this, in regard to which, if you say that I have taken up an easier theme in accusing sleep than you who have praised it—for who, say you, cannot easily bring an indictment against sleep?—I will counter thus: what is easy to indict is hard to praise; what is hard to praise can serve no useful purpose. 2. But I let that pass. For the nonce, as we are staying at Baiae in this interminable labyrinth of Ulysses, I will take from Ulysses a few things which bear on my subject. For he surely would not have taken twenty years his fatherland to reach , nor have wandered so long about that pool, nor gone through all the other adventures which make up the Odyssey, had not then sweet sleep seized his weary limbs . Yet on the tenth day his native soil appeared —but what did sleep do? The evil counsel of my crew prevailed: The bag they opened, and forth rushed the winds; The fierce gale caught and swept them to the sea, Weeping with sorrow, from their native shore? What again took place at the island of Trinacria? Nor winds sweet sleep upon mine eyelids shed: Eurylochus his crew ill counsel gave. Afterwards, when the Sungod's oxen and fat flocks . . they slew and flayed . . and burnt the thighs and ate the flesh , what then Ulysses when awaked? Wailing I cried to all the Gods on high, Who ruthless to my ruin made me sleep. Sleep, however, did not allow Ulysses a long recognition of his native land, from which he yearned to see even the smoke leap upwards . 3. Now I leave the son of Laertes for the son of Atreus. For that with all haste , which beguiled the latter, and led to the defeat and rout of so many legions, surely sprang from sleep and a dream. Again, when the poet would praise Agamemnon, what says he?— Then none might see the godlike Agamemnon sleeping — what, when he is finding fault?— No councillor should sleep the whole night long, verses indeed, which an illustrious orator once wrested in a strange fashion. 4. I now pass on to our friend Q. Ennius, who, you say, drew from sleep and a dream his first inspiration to write. But, marry, had he never waked from sleep, he had never told his dream. 5. From him let us to Hesiod the shepherd, who became a poet, you say, in slumber. But, indeed, I remember reading once upon a time at school: When on the swift steed's track he was leading his sheep to the pasture , Hesiod once was met in the way by a bevy of Muses. That was met , you see what it implies? Why, that he was walking when the Muses met him. What, again, do you think of that, of which its most eloquent advocate says what? Sweet dreamless sleep, death's counterfeit. 6. Enough of this trifling which I have indulged in more from love of you than from my own faith in it. Now after soundly abusing sleep, I am off to sleep: for I have spun all this out for you in the evening. I hope sleep will not pay me out.

ad M. Caesarem 1.4 [5 Hout; 1.90 Haines] M. Caesar Frontoni magistro suo salutem. 1 Accipe nunc tu paucula contra somnum pro insomnia. Quamquam, puto, praevaricor, qui adsiduo diebus ac noctibus somno adsum neque eum desero neque sino deserat, adeo sumus familiares. Sed cupio hac sua accusatione offensus paulisper a me abscedat et lucubratiunculae aliquam tandem facultatem tribuat. 2 Igitur ἐπιχειρήματα φίλα: Ejusdem illo primo utar epichiremate; quodsi tu dices faciliorem me materiam mihi adsumpsisse accusandi somni quam te, qui laudaveris somnum. “Quis enim”, inquis, “non facile somnum accusaverit?” Igitur cujus facilis accusatio, ejusdem difficilis laudatio; cujus difficilis laudatio, ejus non utilis usurpatio. 3 Sed hoc transeo. Nunc quando apud Bajas agimus in hoc diuturno Ulixi labyrintho, ab Ulixe me paucula, quae ad hanc rem attinent, sumam. Non enim ille profecto εἰκοστῷ demum ἔτει venisset εἰς πατρίδα γαῖαν, neque in isto lacu tam diu oberrasset neque, quae alia omnia Ὀδυσσείαν faciunt perpessus esset, nisi tum “γλυκὺς ὕπνος ἐπήλυθε κεκμηῶτα”. Quamquam “τῇ δεκάτῃ ἀνεφαίνετο πατρὶς ἄρουρα”. Sed quid somnus fecit? “βουλὴ δὲ κακὴ νίκησεν ἑταίρων· ἀσκὸν μὲν λῦσαν, ἄνεμοι δ᾽ ἐκ πάντες ὄρουσαν, τοὺς δ᾽ αἶψ᾽ ἁρπάξασα φέρεν πόντονδε θύελλα κλαίοντας, γαίης ἄπο πατρίδος”. Quid rursum apud insulam Trinacriam? “οἱ δ᾽ ἄρα μοι γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔχευαν. Εὐρύλοχος δ᾽ ἑτάροισι κακῆς ἐξήρχετο βουλῆς. Postea ubi Ἠελίοιο βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα ἔσφαξα καὶ ἔδειραν καὶ μῆρ᾽ ἐκάη καὶ σπλάγχν᾿ ἐπάσαντο”, quid tum expergitus Ulixes? “οἰμώξας δὲ θεοῖσι μετ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι γεγώνευν· ἦ με μάλ᾽ εἰς ἄτην κοιμήσατε νηλέι ὕπνῳ”. Somnus autem Ulixen ne patriam quidem suam diu agnosceret sivit, cujus “καὶ καπνὸν ἀποθρῴσκοντα νοῆσαι ἱμείρετο”. 4 Nunc a Laertio ad Atridam transeo. Nam illud πασσυδίῃ quod eum decepit, cujus causa tot legiones funduntur, fugantur, ex somno et ex somnio profecto oritur. 5 Quid quom ὁ ποιητὴς Agamemnonem laudat, quid ait? “ἔνθ᾽ οὐκ ἂν βρίζοντα ἴδοις Ἀγαμέμνονα δῖον”. Quid quom reprehendit? “οὐ χρὴ παννύχιον εὕδειν βουληφόρον ἄνδρα”, quos quidem versus orator egregius mire quondam evertit. 6 Transeo nunc ad Q. Ennium nostrum, quem tu ais ex somno et somnio initium sibi fecisse. Sed profecto nisi ex somno suscitatus esset, numquam somnium suum narrasset. 7 Hinc ad Hesiodum pastorem quem dormientem poetam ais factum. Atenim ego memini olim apud magistrum me legere: “ποιμένι μῆλα νέμοντι παρ᾿ ἴχνιον ὀξέος ἵππου Ἡσιόδῳ Μουσέων ἑσμὸς ὅτ᾿ ἠντίασεν. τὸ ‘ὅτ᾿ ἠντίασεν’” vides quale sit, scilicet ambulanti obviam venisse Musas. Quid autem tu de eo existimas quem qui pulcherrime laudat quid ait? “νήδυμος ἥδιστος θανάτῳ ἄγχιστα ἐοικώς”. 8 Haec satis tui amorei quam meae fiduciae luserim. Nunc bene accusato somno dormitum eo, nam vespera haec detexui. Opto, ne mihi somnus gratiam referat.