f either good or evil; these four perturbations are
divided equally into two parts: for two of them proceed from an opinion of
good, one of which is an exulting pleasure, that is to say, a joy elated
beyond measure, arising from an opinion of some present great good; the
other is a desire which may fairly be called even a lust, and is an
immoderate inclination after some conceived great good, without any
obedience to reason. Therefore these two kinds, the exulting pleasure, and
the lust, have their rise from an opinion of good, as the other two, fear
and grief, have from an opinion of evil. For fear is an opinion of some
great evil impending over us, and grief is an opinion of some great evil
present; and, indeed, it is a freshly conceived opinion of an evil so
great, that to grieve at it seems right: it is of that kind, that he who
is uneasy at it thinks he has good reason to be so. Now we should exert
our utmost efforts to oppose these perturbations--which are, as it were, so
many furies let loose upon us, and urged on by folly--if we are desirous to
pass this share of life that is allotted to us with ease and satisfaction.
But of the other feelings I shall speak elsewhere; our business at present
is to drive away grief if we can, for that shall be the object of our
present discussion, since you have said that it was your opinion that a
wise man might be subject to grief, which I can by no means allow of; for
it is a frightful, miserable, and detestable thing, which we should fly
from with our utmost efforts--with all our sails and oars, as I may say.

XII. That descendant of Tantalus, how does he appear to you? he who sprung
from Pelops, who formerly stole Hippodamia from her father-in-law, king
OEnomaus, and married her by force? He who was descended from Jupiter
himself, how broken-hearted and dispirited does he not seem!--

Stand off, my friends, nor come within my shade,
That no pollutions your sound hearts pervade,
So foul a stain my body doth partake.

Will you condemn yourself, Thyestes, and deprive yourself of life, on
account of the greatness of another's crime? What do you think of that son
of Phoebus? do you not look upon him as unworthy of his own father's light?

Hollow his eyes, his body worn away,
His furrow'd cheeks his frequent tears betray;
His beard neglected, and his hoary hairs
Rough and uncomb'd, bespeak his bitter cares.

O foolish AEetes, these are evils