upon thy forehead of brass those letters, that they may be
impressed upon the eyes of all throughout my kingdom. Go, let men
see how sacred a thing is the table of hospitality; show them your
face, that upon it they may read the decree which prevents its
being a capital crime to give refuge to the unfortunate under one's
roof. The order will be more certainly respected by this means than
if I had inscribed it upon tablets of brass."

XXXIX. "Why then," argues our adversary, "did your Stoic
philosopher Zeno, when he had promised a loan of five hundred
denarii to some person, whom he afterwards discovered to be of
doubtful character, persist in lending it, because of his promise,
though his friends dissuaded him from doing so?" In the first place
a loan is on a different footing to a benefit. Even when we have
lent money to an undesirable person we can recall it; I can demand
payment upon a certain day, and if he becomes bankrupt, I can
obtain my share of his property; but a benefit is lost utterly and
instantly. Besides, the one is the act of a bad man, the other that
of a bad father of a family. In the next place, if the sum had been
a larger one, not even Zeno would have persisted in lending it. It
was five hundred denarii; the sort of sum of which one says, "May
he spend it in sickness," and it was worth paying so much to avoid
breaking his promise. I shall go out to supper, even though the
weather be cold, because I have promised to go; but I shall not if
snow be falling. I shall leave my bed to go to a betrothal feast,
although I may be suffering from indigestion; but I shall not do so
if I am feverish. I will become bail for you, because I promised;
but not if you wish me to become bail in some transaction of
uncertain issue, if you expose me to forfeiting my money to the
state. There runs through all these cases, I argue, an implied