Eupatius thought: “Give him a thousand horses,
A thousand bridles of eloquent gold.
Wash his feet, feed him well, show him my dancers.
If he knows a secret, don’t ask him about it.
If he wants to tell a fable, let him speak.
Lead him into my garden, pluck peaches for him.
Keep near him my favourite silver jug.
Whatever he wants, give it to him.
Whatever he’s silent about, anticipate.
Catch his words, hear him boast,
Without excessive servility make him at home.
Let him sleep on my cushions, let him lean on my lute,
Give him crystals to toss, let him choose.
At sunset, lead him out of here,
With a bronze dagger
Cut his throat.”
Eupatius thought: “Take from him what he has,
Take his horse, take his armour.
Throw dirt in his face, give him no bread, no wine.
Tie him up, beat him hard, find what he knows.
Ask him incessantly about the same, drive him mad.
Make him scream, make him beg, let him lose
What is keeping him straight, lose the purpose in his eyes.
If he asks for a sip of water, strike him.
If he asks for some food, laugh at him.
Let him sleep outside, exhausted and filthy,
Outside let him wake, let fear gnaw at his guts.
At sunrise, lead him out of here,
Cut his ropes,
Let him go.”
Eupatius said: “I am famous for my hospitality.
I am bored. My thoughts are disturbing me.
No one ever comes to this place.”