One day Xanthus decided to go to the baths so that he might relax and refresh himself. Knowing that the baths were often crowded, he sent his slave Aesop to the baths first to see how many men were there. Accordingly, Aesop went to the baths and, upon returning to his master, reported that there was but one man there. “Ah,” said Xanthus. “That is welcome news indeed, for I am weary and sore. Let us go.” And he bade Aesop gather up the necessities and they set off for the baths.
When they arrived there, however, they encountered a huge crowd. Indeed, seldom had Xanthus seen so many men in attendance. He turned to Aesop in dismay. “What do you suppose has happened?” he said. ‘Only a little while ago you reported to me that there was but one man at the baths, and now in scarcely the time one might take to eat a fig, there is no room at the baths. How can it be? Was this multitude not present when you came here?”
“Yes, master,” Aesop replied, “this multitude was present at the time.”
“Then you have deceived me, you rogue, you scamp! You shall be punished for this when we return, which we shall do immediately, as there is no room here. I shall not have the bath I so ardently desired, and you shall have the whipping you so richly deserve.”
“But wait, master!” said Aesop. “I did but carry out your orders.”
“You did no such thing,” said his master. “I most clearly required you to go to the baths and report to me how many men were present, and you reported that there was but one man present at the baths. Now you tell me that this multitude was here. You are a deceitful rogue. You are not to be trusted, and when we return to my abode, I shall whip you and then send you to the riverbank to make bricks in the hot sun alongside the lowly slaves you belong with.”
“Master,” said Aesop. “Hear me out, and you shall see that I what I told you was true. There was but one man at the baths.”
“Very well,” said Xanthus. “I shall hear your explanation, although I warn you that my anger shall not be easily appeased.”
“Well, master,” said Aesop. “It was thus. When I arrived here there was a great crowd and much activity. Many entering and many leaving, but what most caught my eye was this: do you see that stone over there beside the doorway, master?”
“Yes, I see the stone,” said Xanthus. “And what of it?”
“Well, master, at the time I was here, the stone was just before the doorway in the path and men were stumbling over it. I watched many go in and many come out and most of them stumbled over the stone but then continued on their way. One man, however, after tripping over the stone, bent down and picked it up. Then he placed it beside the doorway where it is now, so that others would not stumble over it. He was, clearly, the only one worthy of being called a man, so I reported to you that there was only one man present, and as you can see, Master, I reported truthfully.”
Xanthus smiled ruefully and replied “Yes, Aesop, I must admit that you reported truthfully. My disappointment over missing the bath I desired is made less by your cleverness. Once again you have entertained me with your wit and intelligence. And once again you have escaped punishment.”
I’ve given a rough version of the story, and I’m not remembering exactly what it was that Xanthus replied, but it was something similar to that. He always allowed Aesop to get away with crap like that. If it was me, it would be different. I wouldn’t have such a slave.
Just picture the same story only this time the master’s name is Chuck. Aesop goes through that routine about there being only one there who was worthy of being called a man and says “as you can see, Master, I reported truthfully.”
Now the story goes like this:
Chuck does not smile ruefully. He stares at Aesop in astonishment and replies “Are you joking? I sent you out on an errand and you bring me back deliberately false information, causing me to miss out on my bath, and then you expect me to be amused and reward you for not doing the job you were sent to do? You supercilious bastard. And even if I accept that it was proper for you to, instead of doing what you were bidden to do, come back with some really flimsy philosophical speculation about what constitutes a man, or the character of a man, it’s only your opinion. It’s subjective. Perhaps all those other men were busy going about the business of the state and had just enough time for a quick bath before returning to their important duties, but the man who picked up the stone did so because he had nothing better to do. He was just going to spend the rest of the day lounging around accomplishing nothing. Who’s more of a man, that one or the others?”
“Ah, yes, Master,” he says, “but,” and he’s about to launch into some specious argument again.
“Ah, yes, master nothing,” Chuck says. “PIck up the stuff. We’re heading home.”
And they go home and Chuck announces to the other slaves that Aesop has incurred his wrath and is to be whipped. They all clamor for the chance to be the one to whip him because none of them can stand the jerk either, but ok, Chuck is not the kind of guy who would really have someone whipped, so we skip that part. He does, however, send Aesop down to the riverbank to make bricks of mud and straw in the hot sun. Every now and then Chuck goes down there to check on him and he sure looks miserable. But it’s his own fault.
In the meantime, Chuck needs to choose another of the slaves to be his personal attendant. How about Briseis? She’d be good.