Discourses - Book III   

wherever I ever I go, there is the sun, there is the moon, there are
the stars, dreams, omens, and the conversation with Gods."
Then, if he is thus prepared, the true Cynic cannot be satisfied
with this; but he must know that he is sent a messenger from Zeus to
men about good and bad things, to show them that they have wandered
and are seeking the substance of good and evil where it is not, but
where it is, they never think; and that he is a spy, as Diogenes was
carried off to Philip after the battle of Chaeroneia as a spy. For, in
fact, a Cynic is a spy of the things which are good for men and
which are evil, and it is his duty to examine carefully and to come
and report truly, and not to be struck with terror so as to point
out as enemies those who are not enemies, nor in any other way to be
perturbed by appearances nor confounded.
It is his duty, then, to he able with a loud voice, if the
occasion should arise, and appearing on the tragic stage to say like
Socrates: "Men, whither are you hurrying, what are you doing,
wretches? like blind people you are wandering up and down: you are
going by another road, and have left the true road: you seek for
prosperity and happiness where they are not, and if another shows
you where they are, you do not believe him." Why do you seek it
without? In the body? It is not there. If you doubt, look at Myro,
look at Ophellius. In possessions? It is not there. But if you do
not believe me, look at Croesus: look at those who are now rich,
with what lamentations their life is filled. In power? It is not
there. If it is, those must be happy who have been twice and thrice
consuls; but they are not. Whom shall we believe in these matters? you
who from without see their affairs and are dazzled by an appearance,
or the men themselves? What do they say? Hear them when they groan,
when they grieve, when on account of these very consulships and
glory and splendour they think that they are more wretched and in
greater danger. Is it in royal power? It is not: if it were, Nero
would have been happy, and Sardanapalus. But neither was Agamemnon
happy, though he was a better man than Sardanapalus and Nero; but
while others are snoring what is he doing?

"Much from his head he tore his rooted hair."

And what does he say himself?

"I am perplexed," he says, "and
Disturb'd I am," and "my heart out of my bosom
Is leaping."

Wretch, which of your affairs goes badly? Your possessions? No. Your
body? No. But you are rich in gold and copper. What then is the matter
with you? That part of you, whatever it is, has been neglected by
you and is corrupted, the part with which we desire, with which we
avoid, with which we move toward and move from things. How
neglected? He knows not the nature of good for which he is made by
nature and the nature of evil; and what is his own, and what belongs