w scraps and samples of his style, was so
enthusiastic about it that he wasted away, and became quite pale and
lean, thirsty and parched, till he sailed to Athens and drew from the
fountain-head, and knew the wonderful man himself and his speeches and
philosophy, the object of which was that men should recognize their
faults and so get rid of them.
Sec. III. But some men cannot bear to look upon their own life, so unlovely
a spectacle is it, nor to throw and flash on themselves, like a lantern,
the reflection of reason; but their soul being burdened with all manner
of vices, and dreading and shuddering at its own interior, sallies forth
and wanders abroad, feeding and fattening its malignity there. For as a
hen, when its food stands near its coop,[614] will frequently slip off
into a corner and scratch up,
"Where I ween some poor little grain appears on the dunghill,"
so curious people neglecting conversation or inquiry about common
matters, such as no one would try and prevent or be indignant at their
prying into, pick out the secret and hidden troubles of every family.
And yet that was a witty answer of the Egyptian, to the person who asked
him, "What he was carrying wrapped up;" "It was wrapped up on purpose
that you should not know." And you too, Sir, I would say to a curious
person, why do you pry into what is hidden? If it were not something bad
it would not be hidden. Indeed it is not usual to go into a strange
house without knocking at the door, and nowadays there are porters, but
in old times there were knockers on doors to let the people inside know
when anyone called, that a stranger might not find the mistress or
daughter of the house _en deshabille_, or one of the slaves being
corrected, or the maids bawling out. But the curious person intrudes on
all such occasions as these, although he would be unwilling to be a
spectator, even if invited, of a well-ordered family: but the things for
which bars and bolts and doors are required, these he reveals and
divulges openly to others. Those are the most troublesome winds, as
Aristo says, that blow up our clothes: but the curious person not only
strips off the garments and clothes of his neighbours, but breaks
through their walls, opens their doors, and like the wanton wind, that
insinuates itself into maidenly reserve, he pries into and calumniates
dances and routs and revels.
Sec. IV. And as Cleon is satirized in the play[615] as having "his hands
among
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