Truth. I think we had better give Parrhesiades this commission; he has been shown an honest man, our friend and your true admirer, Philosophy. Let him take Exposure with him and have interviews with all who profess philosophy; any genuine scion that he finds let him crown with olive and entertain in the Banqueting Hall; and for the rascals—ah, how many!—who are only costume philosophers, let him pull their cloaks off them, clip their beards short with a pair of common goatshears, and mark their foreheads or brand them between the eyebrows; the design on the branding iron to be a fox or an ape.
Philos. Well planned, Truth. And, Parrhesiades, here is a test for you; you know how young eagles are supposed to be tested by the sun; well, our candidates have not got to satisfy us that they can look at light, of course; but put gold, fame, and pleasure before their eyes; when you see one remain unconscious and unattracted, there is your man for the olive; but when one looks hard that way, with a motion of his hand in the direction of the gold, first off with his beard, and then off with him to the brander.
Par. I will follow your instructions, Philosophy; you will soon find a large majority ornamented with fox or ape, and very few with olive. If you like, though, I will get some of them up here for you to see.
Philos. What do you mean? bring them back after that stampede?
Par. Oh yes, if the priestess will lend me the line I see there and the Piraean fisherman’s votive hook; I will not keep them long.
Priestess. You can have them; and the rod to complete the equipment.
Par. Thanks; now quickly, please, a few dried figs and a handful of gold.
Priestess. There.
Philos. What is all this about?
Priestess. He has baited his hook with the figs and gold, and is sitting on the parapet dangling it over the city.