Ch. 2
Of complaisance.
To this point you must attend before all others:
not to be so attached to any one of your former
acquaintances or friends as to condescend to behavior
like his; otherwise you will undo yourself. But if it
comes into your head, "I shall appear odd to him,
and he will not treat me as before," remember that
there is nothing to be had for nothing; nor is it possible that he who acts in the same manner as before
should not remain the same person. Choose, then,
whether you will be loved by those who formerly loved
you, and be like your former self; or be better, and
not meet with the same treatment. For if this last is
preferable, immediately incline altogether this way,
and let no other kind of reasoning draw you aside;
for no one can improve while he is wavering. If,
then, you prefer this to everything, if you would be
fixed only on this, and employ all your pains about it,
give up everything else. Otherwise this wavering will
affect you in both directions; you will neither make a
due improvement, nor preserve the advantages you had
before. For before, by setting your heart entirely on
things of no value, you were agreeable to your companions. But you cannot excel in both styles; you
must necessarily lose as much of the one as you partake of the other. If you do not drink with those
with whom you used to drink, you cannot appear
equally agreeable to them. Choose, then, whether
you would be. a drunkard, and agreeable to them, or
sober, and disagreeable to them. If you do not sing
with those with whom you used to sing, you cannot be
equally dear to them. Here too, then, choose which
you will. For if it is better to be modest and decent
than to have it said of you "what an agreeable fellow," give up the rest; renounce it; withdraw yourself; have nothing to do with it. But if this does not
please you, incline with your whole force the contrary
way. Be one of the debauchees; one of the adulterers.
Act all that is consistent with such a character, and
you will obtain what you would have. Jump up in the
theatre, too, and roar out in praise of the dancer.
But characters so different are not to be confounded
You cannot act both Thersites and Agamemnon. If
you would be Thersites, you must be hump-backed
and bald; if Agamemnon, great and noble, and faithful to those who are under your care
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