Book 2, Chapter 19

44 “Epicurus comes forward, a man far from bad—or rather, an excellent man. He gives as much advice as his understanding allows. ‘Disregard pain,’ he says. Who says this? The very man who calls pain the supreme evil? Hardly consistent. Let us listen. ‘If pain is at its utmost,’ he says, ‘it must be brief.’ ‘Say those same words to me again!’ I do not quite understand what you call ‘utmost’ and what you call ‘brief.’ ‘Utmost: nothing can exceed it. Brief: nothing can be briefer. I despise the magnitude of a pain from which the shortness of its duration will rescue me almost before it arrives.’ But what if the pain is as great as Philoctetes’ was? ‘That certainly seems very great to me, but still not the utmost. Only his foot hurts. His eyes could hurt, his head, his sides, his lungs—everything could hurt. So it is far from the utmost pain. Consequently,’ he says, ‘long-lasting pain contains more joy than trouble.’

45 “Now I cannot say that so great a man has no sense, but I think he is making fun of us. I say that the utmost pain—and I call it utmost even if another is greater by ten atoms—is not necessarily brief. I could name many good men who have been tormented for years by the most severe pains of gout. But this clever fellow never fixes a limit for either magnitude or duration, so that I may know what he calls utmost in pain, brief in time. Let us therefore leave him, since he says absolutely nothing, and force the admission that remedies for pain should not be sought from someone who has called pain the greatest of all evils, however plucky he shows himself in his own intestinal cramps and painful urination. Medicine must be sought elsewhere—above all, if we seek the greatest consistency, from those who regard what is honorable as the supreme good and what is disgraceful as the supreme evil. In their presence you will certainly not dare to groan and toss about.”

44 “Now Epicurus turns up. Far from a bad man, he’s a thoroughly good one, but the advice he gives goes only as far as his understanding. ‘Ignore pain,’ he tells us. Who says so? Surely not the man who ranks it worst of all? Not very consistent. Still, let’s hear him out. ‘The most intense pain has to last a short time.’ ‘Please go over that for me again!’ I don’t really understand either ‘most intense’ or ‘short.’ ‘Most intense: nothing can exceed it. Short: nothing can last less time. The scale of pain doesn’t matter to me, because its brief duration releases me almost before it comes.’ What if someone hurts as much as Philoctetes? ‘That’s certainly very intense, I’d say, but not the most intense pain possible. His foot is the only part that hurts. The eyes could hurt too, and the head, the sides, the lungs, every part. He’s nowhere near the most intense pain. That means,’ he says, ‘that lasting pain gives more delight than trouble.’

45 “Now I can’t say such a great man has no sense at all, but I think he’s making fun of us. I say the greatest pain isn’t necessarily brief. And I call it the greatest even if another pain is ten atoms greater. I could name many good men who’ve been tortured for years by extreme pain from gout. But this clever man never sets a limit for either intensity or duration, so that I can know what he means by the greatest pain or a brief time. So let’s leave him aside. He really says nothing at all. Let’s force him to admit that we shouldn’t look for remedies for pain from someone who’s called pain the worst of all bad things, however plucky he may be himself in facing his stomach cramps and difficulty urinating. So we must look elsewhere for treatment. If we’re asking where it’s most consistent to look, we should chiefly turn to those who think moral goodness is the greatest good and shameful conduct the worst thing. You certainly won’t dare groan or toss about in their presence.”