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And what wonder that you, a silly, ignorant fellow, were thus imposed upon and appeared in public holding your head high and imitating the gait and dress and glance of the man whom you delighted to make yourself resemble? Even Pyrrhus of Epirus, a marvellous man in other ways, was once, they say, so spoiled by toadies after the self-same fashion that he believed he was like the famous Alexander. Yet (to borrow a phrase from the musicians) the discrepancy was a matter of two octaves; for I have seen the portrait of Pyrrhus. But in spite of that he had acquired the conviction that he was a perfect replica of Alexander’s beauty. To be sure, I have been uncomplimentary to Pyrrhus in comparing you with him in this matter, but what followed would be quite in character with you. When Pyrrhus was in this state of mind and had this conviction about himself, everyone without exception concurred with him and humoured him until an old foreign woman in Larissa told him the truth and cured him of drivelling. Pyrrhus showed her portraits of Philip, Perdiccas, Alexander, Cassander and other kings, and asked her whom he resembled, quite certain that she would fix upon Alexander; but, after delaying a good while, she said, “Batrachion, the cook’: and as a matter of fact there was in Larissa a cook called Batrachion who resembled Pyrrhus.
