On the same

If these things are true, and if we are not silly, and are not
acting hypocritically when we say that the good of man is in the will,
and the evil too, and that everything else does not concern us, why
are we still disturbed, why are we still afraid? The things about
which we have been busied are in no man's power: and the things
which are in the power of others, we care not for. What kind of
trouble have we still?
"But give me directions." Why should I give you directions? has
not Zeus given you directions? Has he not given to you what is your
own free from hindrance and free from impediment, and what is not your
own subject to hindrance and impediment? What directions then, what
kind of orders did you bring when you came from him? Keep by every
means what is your own; do not desire what belongs to others. Fidelity
is your own, virtuous shame is your own; who then can take these
things from you? who else than yourself will hinder you from using
them? But how do you act? when you seek what is not your own, you lose
that which is your own. Having such promptings and commands from Zeus,
what kind do you still ask from me? Am I more powerful than he, am I
more worthy of confidence? But if you observe these, do you want any
others besides? "Well, but he has not given these orders" you will
say. Produce your precognitions, produce the proofs of philosophers,
produce what you have often heard, and produce what you have said
yourself, produce what you have read, produce what you have
meditated on (and you will then see that all these things are from
God). How long, then, is it fit to observe these precepts from God,
and not to break up the play? As long as the play is continued with
propriety. In the Saturnalia a king is chosen by lot, for it has
been the custom to play at this game. The king commands: "Do you
drink," "Do you mix the wine," "Do you sing," "Do you go," "Do you
come." I obey that the game may be broken up through me. But if he
says, "Think that you are in evil plight": I answer, "I do not think
so"; and who compel me to think so? Further, we agreed to play
Agamemnon and Achilles. He who is appointed to play Agamemnon says
to me, "Go to Achilles and tear from him Briseis." I go. He says,
"Come," and I come.
For as we behave in the matter of hypothetical arguments, so ought
we to do in life. "Suppose it to be night." I suppose that it is
night. "Well then; is it day?" No, for I admitted the hypothesis
that it was night. "Suppose that you think that it is night?"
Suppose that I do. "But also think that it is night." That is not
consistent with the hypothesis. So in this case also: "Suppose that
you are unfortunate." Well, suppose so. "Are you then unhappy?" Yes.
"Well, then, are you troubled with an unfavourable demon?" Yes. "But
think also that you are in misery." This is not consistent with the
hypothesis; and Another forbids me to think so.
How long then must we obey such orders? As long as it is profitable;
and this means as long as I maintain that which is becoming and
consistent. Further, some men are sour and of bad temper, and they