καὶ ὁ Λεύκιος ἀλλὰ μὴ δόξωμεν ἔφη κομιδῇ προπηλακίζειν τὸν Φαρνάκην, οὕτω τὴν Στωικὴν δόξαν ἀπροσαύδητον ὑπερβαίνοντες, εἰπὲ δή τι πρὸς τὸν ἄνδρα πάντως, ἀέρος μῖγμα καὶ μαλακοῦ πυρὸς ὑποτιθέμενον τὴν σελήνην, εἶθʼ οἷον ἐν γαλήνῃ φρίκης ὑποτρεχούσης φάσκοντα τοῦ ἀέρος διαμελαίνοντος ἔμφασιν γίγνεσθαι μορφοειδῆ […] χρηστῶς γʼ εἶπον ὦ Λεύκιε, τὴν ἀτοπίαν εὐφήμοις περιαμπέχεις ὀνόμασιν· οὐχ οὕτω δʼ ὁ ἑταῖρος ἡμῶν, ἀλλʼ, ὅπερ ἀληθὲς ἦν, ἔλεγεν ὑπωπιάζειν · αὐτοὺς τὴν σελήνην, σπίλων καὶ μελασμῶν ἀναπιμπλάντας, ὁμοῦ μὲν Ἄρτεμιν καὶ Ἀθηνᾶν ἀνακαλοῦντας, ὁμοῦ δὲ σύμμιγμα καὶ φύραμα ποιοῦντας ἀέρος ζοφεροῦ καὶ πυρὸς ἀνθρακώδους, οὐκ ἔχουσαν ἔξαψιν οὐδʼ αὐγὴν οἰκείαν, ἀλλὰ δυσκρινές τι σῶμα, τυφόμενον ἀεὶ καὶ πυρίκαυστον ὥσπερ τῶν κεραυνῶν τοὺς ἀλαμπεῖς καὶ ψολόεντας ὑπὸ τῶν ποιητῶν προσαγορευομένους. ὅτι μέντοι πῦρ ἀνθρακῶδες, οἷον οὗτοι τὸ τῆς σελήνης ποιοῦσιν, οὐκ ἔχει διαμονὴν οὐδὲ σύστασιν ὅλως, ἐὰν μὴ στερεᾶς ὕλης καὶ στεγούσης ἅμα καὶ τρεφούσης ἐπιλάβηται, βέλτιον οἶμαι συνορᾶν ἐνίων φιλοσόφων τοὺς ἐν παιδιᾷ λέγοντας τὸν Ἥφαιστον εἰρῆσθαι χωλόν, ὅτι τὸ πῦρ ξύλων χωρὶς ὥσπερ οἱ χωλοὶ βακτηρίας οὐ πρόεισιν. εἰ οὖν ἡ σελήνη πῦρ, ἐστι, πόθεν αὐτῇ τοσοῦτος ἐγγέγονεν ἀήρ; ὁ γὰρ ἄνω καὶ κύκλῳ φερόμενος οὑτοσὶ τόπος οὐκ ἀέρος, ἀλλὰ κρείττονος οὐσίας καὶ πάντα λεπτύνειν καὶ συνεξάπτειν φύσιν ἐχούσης ἐστίν· εἰ δʼ ἐγγέγονε, πῶς οὐκ οἴχεται μεταβάλλων εἰς ἕτερον εἶδος ὑπὸ τοῦ πυρὸς ἐξαιθερωθείς, ἀλλὰ σῴζεται καὶ συνοικεῖ πυρὶ τοσοῦτον χρόνον, ὥσπερ ἧλος ἀραρὼς τοῖς αὐτοῖς ἀεὶ μέρεσι καὶ συγγεγομφωμένος; ἀραιῷ μὲν γὰρ ὄντι καὶ συγκεχυμένῳ μὴ μένειν ἀλλὰ σφάλλεσθαι προσήκει· συμπεπηγέναι δʼ οὐ δυνατὸν ἀναμεμιγμένον πυρὶ καὶ μήτε ὑγροῦ μετέχοντα μήτε γῆς, οἷς μόνοις ἀὴρ συμπήγνυσθαι πέφυκεν ἡ δὲ ῥύμη καὶ τὸν ἐν λίθοις ἀέρα καὶ τὸν ἐν ψυχρῷ μολίβδῳ συνεκκάει, μήτι γε δὴ τὸν ἐν πυρὶ δινούμενον μετὰ τάχους τοσούτου. καὶ γὰρ Ἐμπεδοκλεῖ δυσκολαίνουσι, πάγον ἀέρος χαλαζώδη ποιοῦντι τὴν σελήνην ὑπὸ τῆς τοῦ πυρὸς σφαίρας περιεχόμενον αὐτοὶ δὲ τὴν σελήνην σφαῖραν οὖσαν πυρὸς ἀέρα φασὶν ἄλλον ἄλλῃ διεσπασμένον περιέχειν, καὶ ταῦτα μήτε ῥήξεις ἔχουσαν ἐν ἑαυτῇ μήτε βάθη καὶ κοιλότητας, ἅπερ οἱ γεώδη ποιοῦντες ἀπολείπουσιν; ἀλλʼ ἐπιπολῆς δηλονότι τῇ κυρτότητι ἐπικείμενον. τοῦτο δʼ ἐστὶ καὶ πρὸς διαμονὴν ἄλογον καὶ πρὸς θέαν ἀδύνατον ἐν ταῖς πανσελήνοις · διωρίσθαι γὰρ οὐκ ἔδει μέλαν καὶ σκιερόν, ἀλλʼ ἀμαυροῦσθαι κρυπτόμενον ἢ συνεκλάμπειν, ὑπὸ τοῦ ἡλίου καταλαμβανομένης τῆς σελήνης. καὶ γὰρ παρʼ ἡμῖν ὁ μὲν ἐν βάθεσι καὶ κοιλώμασι τῆς γῆς, οὗ μὴ δίεισιν αὐγή, διαμένει σκιώδης καὶ ἀφώτιστος· ὁ δʼ ἔξωθεν τῇ γῇ περικεχυμένος φέγγος ἴσχει καὶ χρόαν αὐγοειδῆ· πρὸς πᾶσαν μὲν γάρ ἐστι ποιότητα καὶ δύναμιν εὐκέραστος ὑπὸ μανότητος, μάλιστα δὲ φωτὸς ἂν ἐπιψαύσῃ μόνον, ὥς φατε, καὶ θίγῃ, διʼ ὅλου· τρεπόμενος ἐκφωτίζεται. ταὐτὸν οὖν τοῦτο κεἰ τοῖς εἰς βάθη τινὰ καὶ φάραγγας συνωθοῦσιν · ἐν τῇ σελήνῃ τὸν ἀέρα παγκάλως ἔοικε βοηθεῖν, ὑμᾶς γε διεξελέγχει τοὺς ἐξ ἀέρος καὶ πυρὸς οὐκ οἶδʼ ὅπως μιγνύντας αὐτῆς καὶ συναρμόζοντας τὴν σφαῖραν· οὐ γὰρ οἷόν τε λείπεσθαι σκιὰν ἐπὶ τῆς ἐπιφανείας, ὅταν ὁ ἥλιος ἐπιλάμπῃ τῷ φωτὶ πᾶν, ὁπόσον καὶ ἡμεῖς ἀποτεμνόμεθα τῇ ὄψει τῆς σελήνης.
Nay rather, answered he,—lest we should seem too injurious to Pharnaces, in thus passing by the opinion of the Stoics, without opposing any thing against it,—let us make some reply to this man, who supposes the moon to be wholly a mixture of air and mild fire, and then says that, as in a calm there sometimes arises on a sudden a breeze of wind which curls and ruffles the superficies of the sea, so, the air being darkened and rendered black, there is an appearance and form of a face.
You do courteously, Lucius, said I, thus to veil and cover with specious expressions so absurd and false an opinion. But so did not our friend; but he said, as the truth is, that the Stoics disfigured and mortified the moon’s face, filling it with stains and black spots, one while invocating her by the name of Diana and Minerva, and another while making her a lump and mixture of dark air and charcoal-fire, not kindling of itself or having any light of its own, but a body hard to be judged and known, always smoking and ever burning, like to those thunders which by the poets are styled lightless and sooty. Now that a fire of coals, such as they would have that of the moon to be, cannot have any continuance nor yet so much as the least subsistence, unless it meets with some solid matter fit to maintain it, keep it in, and feed it, has, I think, far better than it is by these philosophers, been understood by those poets who in merriment affirm that Vulcan was therefore said to be lame because fire can no more go forward without wood or fuel than a cripple without a crutch. If then the moon is fire, whence has it so much air? For that region above, which is with a continual motion carried round, consists not of air, but some more excellent substance, whose nature it is to subtilize and set on fire all other things. And if it has been since engendered there, how comes it that it does not perish, being changed and transmuted by the fire into an ethereal and heavenly substance? And how can it maintain and preserve itself, cohabiting so long with the fire, as a nail always fixed and fastened in one and the same place? For being rare and diffused, as by Nature it is, it is not fitted for permanency and continuance, but for change and dissipation. Neither is it possible that it should condense and grow compact, being mixed with fire, and utterly void of water and earth, the only two elements by which the nature of the air suffers itself to be brought to a consistency and thickness. And since the swiftness and violence of motion is wont to inflame the air which is in stones, and even in lead itself, as cold as it is; much more will it that which, being in fire, is with so great an impetuosity whirled about. For they are displeased with Empedocles for making the moon a mass of air congealed after the manner of hail, included within a sphere of fire. And yet they themselves say, that the moon, being a globe of fire, contains in it much air dispersed here and there,— and this, though it has neither ruptures, concavities, nor depths (which they who affirm it to be earthly admit), but the air lies superficially on its convexity. Now this is both against the nature of permanency, and impossible to be accorded with what we see in full moons; for it should not appear separately black and dark, but either be wholly obscured and concealed or else co-illuminated, when the moon is overspread by the sun. For with us the air which is in the pits and hollows of the earth, whither the rays of the sun cannot penetrate, remains dark and lightless; but that which is spread over its exterior parts has clearness and a lightsome color. For it is by reason of its rarity easily transformed into every quality and faculty, but principally that of light and brightness, by which, being never so little touched, it incontinently changes and is illuminated. This reason therefore, as it seems greatly to help and maintain the opinion of those who thrust the air into certain deep valleys and caves in the moon, so confutes you, who mix and compose her sphere, I know not how, of air and fire. For it is not possible that there should remain any shadow or darkness in the superficies of the moon, when the sun with his brightness clears and enlightens whatsoever we can discern of her and ken with our sight.
καὶ ὁ Φαρνάκης, ἔτι μου λέγοντος, τοῦτʼ ἐκεῖνο πάλιν εἶπεν· ἐφʼ ἡμᾶς ἀφῖκται τὸ περίακτον ἐκ τῆς Ἀκαδημείας, ἐν τῷ πρὸς ἑτέρους λέγειν διατρίβοντας ἑκάστοτε μὴ παρέχειν ἔλεγχον ὧν αὐτοὶ λέγουσιν, ἀλλʼ ἀπολογουμένοις ἀεὶ χρῆσθαι μὴ κατηγοροῦσιν, ἂν ἐντυγχάνωσιν ἐμὲ δʼ οὖν οὐκ ἐξάξεσθε τήμερον εἰς τὸ διδόναι λόγον ὧν ἐπικαλεῖτε τοῖς Στωικοῖς, πρὶν εὐθύνας λαβεῖν παρʼ ὑμῶν, ἄνω τὰ κάτω τοῦ κόσμου ποιούντων καὶ ὁ Λεύκιος γελάσας μόνον εἶπεν ὦ τάν, μὴ κρίσιν ἡμῖν ἀσεβείας ἐπαγγείλῃς, ὥσπερ Ἀρίσταρχον ᾤετο δεῖν Κλεάνθης τὸν Σάμιον ἀσεβείας προσκαλεῖσθαι τοὺς Ἕλληνας, ὡς κινοῦντα τοῦ κόσμου τὴν ἑστίαν, ὅτι τὰ φαινόμενα σῴζειν ἁνὴρ ἐπειρᾶτο, μένειν τὸν οὐρανὸν ὑποτιθέμενος, ἐξελίττεσθαι δὲ κατὰ λοξοῦ κύκλου τὴν γῆν, ἅμα καὶ περὶ τὸν αὑτῆς ἄξονα δινουμένην. ἡμεῖς μὲν οὖν οὐδὲν αὐτοὶ παρʼ αὑτῶν λέγομεν, οἱ δὲ γῆν ὑποτιθέμενοι τὴν σελήνην, ὦ βέλτιστε, τί μᾶλλον ὑμῶν ἄνω τὰ κάτω ποιοῦσι, τὴν γῆν ἱδρυόντων ἐνταῦθα μετέωρον ἐν τῷ ἀέρι, πολλῷ τινι μείζονα τῆς σελήνης οὖσαν, ὡς ἐν τοῖς ἐκλειπτικοῖς πάθεσιν οἱ μαθηματικοὶ καὶ ταῖς διὰ τοῦ σκιάσματος παρόδοις τῆς ἐποχῆς τὸ μέγεθος ἀναμετροῦσιν; ἥ τε γὰρ σκιὰ τῆς γῆς ἐλάττων ὑπὸ μείζονος τοῦ φωτίζοντος ἀνατείνει καὶ τῆς σκιᾶς αὐτῆς λεπτὸν ὂν τὸ ἄνω καὶ στενὸν οὐδʼ Ὅμηρον, ὥς φασιν, ἔλαθεν, ἀλλὰ τὴν νύκτα θοήν ὀξύτητι τῆς σκιᾶς προσηγόρευσεν ὑπὸ τούτου δʼ ὅμως ἁλισκομένη ταῖς ἐκλείψεσιν ἡ σελήνη τρισὶ μόλις τοῖς αὑτῆς μεγέθεσιν ἀπαλλάττεται. σκόπει δὴ πόσων, γῆ σεληνῶν ἐστιν, εἰ σκιὰν ἀφίησιν, ᾗ βραχυτάτη, πλάτος τρισέληνον. ἀλλʼ ὅμως ὑπὲρ τῆς σελήνης μὴ πέσῃ δεδοίκατε· περὶ δὲ τῆς γῆς ἴσως Αἰσχύλος ὑμᾶς πέπεικεν, ὡς ὁ Ἄτλας ἕστηκε, κίονʼ οὐρανοῦ τε καὶ χθονὸς / ὤμοις ἐρείδων, ἄχθος οὐκ εὐάγκαλον / εἰ τῇ μὲν σελήνῃ κοῦφος ἀὴρ ὑποτρέχει καὶ στερεὸν ὄγκον οὐκ ἐχέγγυος ἐνεγκεῖν, τὴν δὲ γῆν κατὰ Πίνδαρον ἀδαμαντοπέδιλοι κίονες περιέχουσι· καὶ διὰ τοῦτο Φαρνάκης αὐτὸς μὲν ἐν ἀδείᾳ τοῦ πεσεῖν τὴν γῆν ἐστιν, οἰκτίρει δὲ τοὺς ὑποκειμένους τῇ μεταφορᾷ τῆς σελήνης Αἰθίοπας ἢ Ταπροβηνούς, μὴ βάρος αὐτοῖς ἐμπέσῃ τοσοῦτον. καίτοι τῇ μὲν σελήνῃ βοήθεια πρὸς τὸ. μὴ πεσεῖν ἡ κίνησις αὐτὴ καὶ τὸ ῥοιζῶδες τῆς περιαγωγῆς, ὥσπερ ὅσα ταῖς σφενδόναις ἐντεθέντα τῆς καταφορᾶς κώλυσιν ἴσχει τὴν κύκλῳ περιδίνησιν ἄγει γὰρ ἕκαστον ἡ κατὰ φύσιν κίνησις, ἂν ὑπʼ ἄλλου μηδενὸς ἀποστρέφηται. διὸ τὴν σελήνην οὐκ ἄγει τὸ βάρος, ὑπὸ τῆς περιφορᾶς τὴν ῥοπὴν ἐκκρουόμενον. ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ἴσως λόγον εἶχε θαυμάζειν μένουσαν αὐτὴν παντάπασιν ὥσπερ ἡ γῆ καὶ ἀτρεμοῦσαν. νῦν δὲ σελήνη μὲν ἔχει μεγάλην αἰτίαν τοῦ δεῦρο μὴ φέρεσθαι· τὴν δὲ γῆν, ἑτέρας κινήσεως ἄμοιρον οὖσαν, εἰκὸς ἦν. μόνῳ τῷ βαρύνοντι κινεῖν · βαρυτέρα δʼ ἐστὶ τῆς σελήνης οὐχ ὅσῳ μείζων, ἀλλʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον, ἅτε δὴ διὰ θερμότητα καὶ πύρωσιν ἐλαφρᾶς γεγενημένης. ὅλως δʼ ἔοικεν ἐξ ὧν λέγεις ἡ σελήνη, μᾶλλον, εἰ πῦρ ἐστι, γῆς δεῖσθαι καὶ ὕλης, ἐν ᾗ βέβηκε καὶ προσπέφυκε καὶ συνέχει καὶ ζωπυρεῖ τὴν δύναμιν· οὐ γὰρ ἔστι πῦρ χωρὶς ὕλης διανοηθῆναι σῳζόμενον· γῆν δέ φατε ὑμεῖς ἄνευ βάσεως καὶ ῥίζης διαμένειν. πάνυ μὲν οὖν εἶπεν ὁ Φαρνάκης τὸν μέσον τόπον ἔχουσαν, ὥσπερ αὐτῇ οἰκεῖον καὶ κατὰ φυσιν· οὗτος γάρ ἐστι, περὶ· ὃν ἀντερείδει πάντα τὰ βάρη ῥέποντα καὶ φέρεται καὶ συννεύει πανταχόθεν· ἡ δʼ ἄνω χώρα πᾶσα, κἄν τι δέξηται γεῶδες ὑπὸ βίας ἀναρριφέν, εὐθὺς ἐκθλίβει δεῦρο, μᾶλλον δʼ ἀφίησιν, πέφυκεν οἰκείᾳ ῥοπῇ καταφερόμενον.
Whilst I was yet speaking, Pharnaces interrupting my discourse said: See here again the usual stratagem of the Academy brought into play against us, which is to busy themselves at every turn in speaking against others, but never to afford an opportunity for reproving what they say themselves; so that those with whom they confer and dispute must always be respondents and defendants, and never plaintiffs or opponents. You shall not therefore bring me this day to give you an account of those things you charge upon the Stoics, till you have first rendered me a reason for your turning the world upside down.
Then Lucius smiling said: This, good sir, I am well contented to do, provided only that you will not accuse us of impiety, as Cleanthes thought that the Greeks ought to have called Aristarchus the Samian into question and condemned him of blasphemy against the Gods, as shaking the very foundations of the world, because this man, endeavoring to save the appearances, supposed that the heavens remained immovable, and that the earth moved through an oblique circle, at the same time turning about its own axis. As for us therefore, we say nothing that we take from them. But how do they, my good friend, who suppose the moon to be earth, turn the world upside down more than you, who say that the earth remains here hanging in the air, being much greater than the moon, as the mathematicians measure their magnitude by the accidents of eclipses, and by the passages of the moon through the shadow of the earth, gathering thence how great a space it takes up? For the shadow of the earth is less than itself, by reason it is cast by a greater light. And that the end of this shadow upwards is slender and pointed, they say that Homer himself was not ignorant, but plainly expressed it when he called the night θοή (that is, acute) from the sharp-pointedness of the earth’s shadow. And yet the moon in her eclipses, being caught within this point of the shadow, can scarce get out of it by going forward thrice her own bigness in length. Consider then, how many times the earth must needs be greater than the moon, if it casts a shadow, the narrowest point of which is thrice as broad as the moon. But you are perhaps afraid lest the moon should fall, if it were acknowledged to be earth; but as for the earth, Aeschylus has secured you, when he says that Atlas Stands shouldering the pillar of the heaven and earth, / A burden onerous. /
If then there runs under the moon only a light air, not firm enough to bear a solid burthen, whereas under the earth there are, as Pindar says, columns and pillars of adamant for its support, therefore Pharnaces himself is out of all dread of the earth’s falling, but he pities the Ethiopians and those of Taprobane, who lie directly under the course of the moon, fearing lest so ponderous a mass should tumble upon their heads. And yet the moon has, for an help to preserve her from falling, her motion and the impetuosity of her revolution; as stones, pebbles, and other weights, put into slings, are kept from dropping out, whilst they are swung round, by the swiftness of their motion. For every body is carried according to its natural motion, unless it be diverted by some other intervening cause. Wherefore the moon does not move according to the motion of her weight, her inclination being stopped and hindered by the violence of a circular revolution. And perhaps there would be more reason to wonder, if the moon continued always immovable in the same place, as does the earth. But now the moon has a great cause to keep herself from tending hither downwards; but for the earth, which has no other motion, it is probable that it has also no other cause of its settlement but its own weight. For the earth is heavier than the moon, not only because it is greater, but also because the moon is rendered lighter by the heat and inflammation that is in it. In brief, it appears by what you say, if it is true that the moon is fire, that it stands in need of earth or some other matter, which it may rest on and cleave to, for the maintaining and nourishing of its power. For it is not possible to imagine how a fire can be preserved without some combustible matter. And you yourselves say that the earth continues firm without any basis or pedestal to support it.
Yes surely, said Pharnaces, being in its proper and natural place, the very middle and centre of the universe. For this it is to which all heavy and ponderous things do from every side naturally tend, incline, and aspire, and about which they cling and are counterpoised. But every superior region, though it may perhaps receive some earthly and weighty thing sent by violence up into it, immediately repels and casts it down again by force, or (to speak better) lets it follow its own proper inclination, by which it naturally tends downwards.
πρὸς τοῦτʼ ἐγὼ τῷ Λευκίῳ χρόνον ἐγγενέσθαι βουλόμενος ἀναμιμνησκομένῳ, τὸν Θέωνα καλέσας τίς ἔφην ὦ Θέων, εἴρηκε τῶν τραγικῶν ὡς ἰατροὶ πικρὰν πικροῖς κλύζουσι φαρμάκοις χολήν; ἀποκριναμένου δὲ τοῦ Θέωνος ὅτι Σοφοκλῆς, καὶ δοτέον εἶπον ὑπʼ ἀνάγκης ἐκείνοις· φιλοσόφων δʼ οὐκ ἀκουστέον, ἂν τὰ παράδοξα παραδόξοις ἀμύνεσθαι βούλωνται καὶ μαχόμενοι πρὸς τὰ θαυμάσια τῶν δογμάτων ἀτοπώτερα καὶ θαυμασιώτερα πλάττωσιν, ὥσπερ οὗτοι τὴν ἐπὶ τὸ μέσον φορὰν εἰσάγουσιν. ᾗ τί παράδοξον οὐκ ἔνεστιν; οὐχὶ τὴν γῆν σφαῖραν εἶναι, τηλικαῦτα βάθη καὶ ὕψη καὶ ἀνωμαλίας ἔχουσαν; οὐκ ἀντίποδας οἰκεῖν, ὥσπερ θρῖπας ἢ γαλεώτας τραπέντα ἄνω τὰ κάτω τῇ γῇ προσισχομένους; ἡμᾶς δʼ αὐτοὺς μὴ πρὸς ὀρθὰς βεβηκότας ἀλλὰ πλαγίους ἐπιμένειν ἀπονεύοντας ὥσπερ οἱ μεθύοντες; οὐ μύδρους χιλιοταλάντους διὰ βάθους τῆς γῆς φερομένους, ὅταν ἐξίκωνται πρὸς τὸ μέσον, ἵστασθαι, μηδενὸς ἀπαντῶντος μηδʼ ὑπερείδοντος· εἰ δὲ ῥύμῃ κάτω φερόμενοι τὸ μέσον ὑπερβάλλοιεν, αὖθις ὀπίσω στρέφεσθαι καὶ ἀνακάμπτειν ἀπʼ αὐτῶν; οὐ τμήματα δοκῶν ἀποπρισθέντα τῆς, γῆς ἑκατέρωθεν μὴ φέρεσθαι κάτω διὰ παντός, ἀλλὰ προσπίπτοντα πρὸς τὴν γῆν ἔξωθεν εἴσω διωθεῖσθαι καὶ ἀποκρύπτεσθαι περὶ τὸ μέσον; οὐ ῥεῦμα λάβρον ὕδατος κάτω φερόμενον εἰ πρὸς τὸ μέσον ἔλθοι σημεῖον, ὅπερ αὐτοὶ λέγουσιν; ἀσώματον, ἵστασθαι περικρεμαννύμενον ἢ κύκλῳ περιπολεῖν, ἄπαυστον αἰώραν καὶ ἀκατάπαυστον αἰωρούμενον; οὐδὲ γὰρ ψευδῶς ἔνια τούτων βιάσαιτο ἄν τις αὑτὸν εἰς τὸ δυνατὸν τῇ ἐπινοίᾳ καταστῆσαι. τοῦτο γάρ ἐστι τὰ ἄνω κάτω καὶ πάντα τραπέμπαλιν εἶναι, τῶν ἄχρι τοῦ μέσου κάτω τῶν δʼ ὑπὸ τὸ μέσον αὖ πάλιν ἄνω γιγνομένων· ὥστʼ, εἴ τις συμπαθείᾳ τῆς γῆς τὸ μέσον αὐτῆς ἔχων σταίη περὶ τὸν ὀμφαλόν, ἅμα καὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν ἄνω καὶ τοὺς πόδας ἄνω ἔχειν τὸν αὐτόν· κἂν μὲν διασκάπτῃ τις τὸν ἐπέκεινα τόπον, ἀνακύπτον αὐτοῦ τὸ […] εἶναι καὶ κάτω ἄνωθεν ἕλκεσθαι τὸν ἀνασκαπτόμενον εἰ δὲ δὴ τούτῳ τις ἀντιβεβηκὼς νοοῖτο, τοὺς ἀμφοτέρων ἅμα πόδας ἄνω γίγνεσθαι καὶ λέγεσθαι.
For the refutation of which, being willing to give Lucius time for the calling to mind his arguments, I addressed myself to Theon, and asked him which of the tragic poets it was who said that physicians With bitter med’cines bitter choler purge. /
And Theon having answered me that it was Sophocles; This, said I to him, we must of necessity permit them to do; but we are not to give ear to those philosophers who would overthrow paradoxes by assertions no less strange and paradoxical, and for the oppugning strange and extravagant opinions, devise others yet more wonderful and absurd; as these men do, who broach and introduce this doctrine of a motion tending towards the middle, in which what sort of absurdity is there not to be found? Does it not thence follow, that the earth is spherical, though we nevertheless see it to have so many lofty hills, so many deep valleys, and so great a number of inequalities? Does it not follow that there are antipodes dwelling opposite to another, sticking on every side to the earth, with their heads downwards and their heels upwards, as if they were woodworms or lizards? That we ourselves go not on the earth straight upright, but obliquely and bending aside like drunken men? That if bars and weights of a thousand talents apiece should be let fall into the hollow of the earth, they would, when they were come to the centre, stop and rest there, though nothing came against them or sustained them; and that, if peradventure they should by force pass the middle, they would of themselves return and rebound back thither again? That if one should saw off the two trunks or ends of a beam on either side of the earth, they would not be always carried downwards, but falling both from without into the earth, they would equally meet, and hide themselves together in the middle? That if a violent stream of water should run downwards into the ground, it would, when it came to the centre of the earth, which they hold to be an incorporeal point, there gather together, and turn round like a whirlpool, with a perpetual and endless suspension? Some of which positions are so absurd, that none can so much as force his imagination, though falsely, to conceive them possible. For this is indeed to make that which is above to be below; and to turn all things upside down, by making all that is as far as the middle to be downwards, and all that is beyond the middle to be upwards; so that if a man should, by the sufferance and consent of the earth, stand with his navel just against her centre, he would by this means have his feet and head both upwards; and if one, having digged through that place which is beyond the middle, should come to pull him out from thence, that part which is below would at one and the same time be drawn upwards, and that which is above, downwards. And if another should be imagined to stand the contrary way, their feet, though the one’s were opposite to the other’s, would both be and be said to be upwards.
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