You lean over the rail and close your eyes against the roiling of the sea and ask yourself how you got into this situation--not out loud, though. As tired as you've grown of being on this little ship in the middle of the ocean--correction, sea, Mediterranean Sea--you've grown even more weary of Caliban's explanation when you've asked that question out loud. Doesn't he understand the concept of a rhetorical question?
Instead of letting it go, he carefully explaions: "Your Chronosensor malfunctioned, sending you to this time and place. You're quite fortunate, given the place, that a trireme happened by, not to mention that your Chronosensor is waterproof. I'm not sure how long you could have tread water. It was all happenstance, I'm sure."
You're not as sure at Caliban. After that incident in the Theater in Athens you're starting to suspect that someone or something might be controlling these little accidents. You're grateful that the scroll Sor Juana gave you was wrapped up so carefully. It didn't look like any sea water got into it.
You open your eyes. Keeping them closed just made the movement of the ship seem more pronounced. Land is in sight, and you heave a sigh of relief that threatens to turn into a real heave. Only a few hours left on this tub.
In one respect, this looks like it might be a vacation of sorts. The city along the shore is Alexandria, the date 48 BCE. This was so far outside the time and place of your mission that you'd have nothing to do but be a sightseer until the Chronosensor "malfunctions" again.
[[On the dock]]
You are standing next to the captain, a short man with curly beard that often drips with oil, as your boat pulls up to the dock. Before it even comes to a stop, two men jump on board. The captain nods to them.
"The port inspectors," he exlains. "They'll look through our goods and tally them for the port fees."
"And them?" you ask, pointing at two men dressed in purple robes with golden tassels, dress that places their social standing well obove everyone else on the dock. They look like they could be priests of some kind.
The captain grimaces. "Librarians."
Librarians? At the port? What interest could librarians have in shipping and trade?
The librarians spend more time going through the hold than the port inspectors. When the come back on deck they have three scrolls in their arms, including the one you got from Sor Juana.
"Hey, what's going on? That's mine."
"Do not fret, scholar. We are simply going to copy these scrolls to add to the great library. You will have yours returned to you."
Before you know it, they have left the ship and you stand alone with the captain.
"There are a few things the didn't tell you," the captain says. "First, it will take them many more weeks to copy those scrolls than we will wait in port. We will be long gone by the time they bring us our own back. So that promise means nothing. Second, they will not return the original scrolls anyway. They will return copies, not the originals."
"How far to the library?" you ask. You had to get that scroll back, the original. There was no telling what changes, minor on the surface, could end up on the copy during the transcription process. You've heard how copying by hand could change a text until the original meaning would be completely obscured by multiple copies that left one error on top of the other.
If that scroll contained clues to the Eliatics, you needed the original.
[[In the Great Library]]
You sit at a bench in the library, reading over the same page of the scroll in front of you for the sixth time. It had been remarkably easy to get in. You'd simply claimed to be a scholar from a forign land and they'd given you free rein. You couldn't take anything out with you, but you could read to your heart's content.
Other scholars sit at other benches, pouring over manuscripts, or search the various scrolls that are tucked into every nook and crany. There doesn't seem to be a catalogue system other than memory. If you want something specific, you ask around. If someone else had seen or heard of that scroll, they would point you in the right direction. It had taken you several days to find your way close to the copy room, where you were sure your scroll was. Now, through an archway, you could see the room with its many desks, with copiers toiling away. You just weren't sure how to get in there without drawing attention to yourself.
Two men you have seen walk in and out of the copy room are coming toward you down the hallway. Unlike most of the scholars, who are quiet men, these two are in a heated argument that reverberates off the walls.
"You must agree with Socrates," one says. "There are things that exist which we cannot see. How can you say there is no such thing as pure Justice, or pure Beauty? And yet, we cannot see them. The beauty we see is just a reflection of true Beauty. Our senses can only decieve us."
"My dear Apollodorus, I believe in what my senses tell me. What I can see and touch. No more. I agree with Aristotle, who wrote that knowledge comes from the senses. Far from being deceptive, we must study what we can sense, catalogue, look for patterns. These are the only things that we can trust."
"But," you interject into their discussion, "What if we could come to clear decisions about events that we, or anyone we know and trust, did not see in person?"
The two turn and stare at you, the one in obvious disdain, Apollodorus in just as obvious interest.
"What are you referring to, scholar?" the asks.
"Leave him be, Petrus."
"I was just reading this manuscript, a speech written by Gorgias of Leontini. He argues that though most Greeks blamed Helen for the fall of Troy as well as all Greece and Trojan deaths during the war, she was innocent and should not be blamed."
"And how does this speech provide the evidence you claim, that it is possible to prove things that we have not seen?"
"Let me demonstrate."
[[Gorgias]]
"Gorgias," you tell them, "starts his speech by admitting that he does not know why Helen ran away to Troy other than from Homer's account, and Homer only says that she did. He then gives a list of possible reasons for her actions.
"Fate, Fortune, or the plans of the gods
Abducted by force,
Persuaded by speeches,
or Conquered by Love.
"He argues that it does not matter which reason she left, none are her fault and she should not have been blamed."
"But these are simply rhetorical tricks," Petrus repiles. "None of these could be defended through reason or logic. They could only be defended through an emotional appeal, or perhaps, through arguments about her character, if a woman has character. Like most rhetoricians, Gorgias has a low character himself, otherwise he would not snoop to such trickery. Didn't he have a ifesize statue of construted of himself from pure gold at his death? What hubris. Definitely a character we should not trust."
"But if his arguments are logical," Apolloduras countered, "would his character matter? After all, if a person of low character tells us that two plus two equals four, should we count on our fingers to ensure he is trying to trick us?
"Whether the truth be, as Socrates insisted, from unseen concepts such as justice or beauty, or from our senses, as Aristotle argued, we should be able to come to that truth through logic, should we not?
"But the example is preposterous, especially the idea that love should excuse Helen" Petras says. "Even should she be in love, that does not release her from her responsibility as a queen and wife."
"Well, Gorgias made a different argument . . .
YOUR TASK IS TO REVIEW EACH OF THESE FOUR REASONS AS ARTICULATED BY GORGIAS AND WRITE A SUMMARY/EXPLANATION OF HOW EACH PROVES GORGIAS'S ARGUMENT THAT HELEN SHOULD BE BLAMELESS (25 WORDS OR LESS) AND EXPLAIN HOW THAT ARGUMENT IS MADE USING LOGOS (WHICH IS OFTEN LOGIC AND JUST AS OFTEN SOMETHING ELSE. CALL YOUR INSTRUCTOR OVER WHEN YOU HAVE COMPLETED EACH INDIVIDUAL EXPLANATION FOR REVIEW. NOTE THAT SOME OF THESE ARE MORE DIFFICULT THAN OTHERS, THUS THE EXPERIENCE POINTS DIFFER. IN ORDER TO EARN THE FULL NUMBER OF EXPERIENCE POINTS YOU WILL HAVE TO GET YOUR ANSWER RIGHT ON THE FIRST TRY. (YOU CAN INVOLVE YOUR INSTRUCTOR WITH GROUP DISCUSSION.) YOU CAN TAKE THESE IN ANY ORDER, BUT YOU MIGHT WANT TO START WITH AN EASY ONE FOR PRACTICE--AND FEEDBACK.
DURING THE LAST TEN MINUTES OF CLASS I WILL ASK EACH GROUP TO PRESENT THEIR BEST EXPLANATION TO THE CLASS.
[[Fate, Fortune, or the plans of the gods]] (3 experience points)
[[Abducted by force]] (3 experience points)
[[Persuaded by speeches]] (8 experience points)
[[Conquered by Love]] (6 experience points)
Gorgias: Either by the wishes of Fortune and plans of the gods and decrees of Necessity she did what she did, or abducted by force, or persuaded by speeches, <or conquered by Love>. Now in the first case, the responsible party deserves the responsibility. For the will of a god cannot be hindered by human forethought. Accordingly, if one must attribute responsibility to Fortune and the god, one must acquit Helen of infamy.
Translation ©1999 by Brian R. Donovan. <a href="http://www.classicpersuasion.org/pw/gorgias/helendonovan.htm">Full Text</a>
Gorgias: But if she was abducted by force, unlawfully constrained and unjustly victimized, it is clear on the one hand that the abductor, as victimizer, committed injustice--and on the other hand that the abductee, as victim, met with mishap.
Translation ©1999 by Brian R. Donovan. <a href="http://www.classicpersuasion.org/pw/gorgias/helendonovan.htm">Full Text</a>
Gorgias: If persuasive discourse deceived her soul, it is not on that account difficult to defend her and absolve her of responsibility, thus: discourse is a great potentate, which by the smallest and most secret body accomplishes the most divine works; for it can stop fear and assuage pain and produce joy and make mercy abound. By means of words, inspired incantations serve as bringers-on of pleasure and takers-off of pain. For the incantation's power, communicating with the soul's opinion, enchants and persuades and changes it, by trickery. Two distinct methods of trickery and magic are to be found: errors of soul, and deceptions of opinion. Persuasion belonging to discourse shapes the soul at will. The power of discourse stands in the same relation to the soul's organization as the pharmacopoeia does to the physiology of bodies. For just as different drugs draw off different humors from the body, and some put an end to disease and others to life, so too of discourses: some give pain, others delight, others terrify, others rouse the hearers to courage, and yet others by a certain vile persuasion drug and trick the soul.
Translation ©1999 by Brian R. Donovan. <a href="http://www.classicpersuasion.org/pw/gorgias/helendonovan.htm">Full Text</a>
Gorgias: If it was love that brought all these things to pass, she escapes without difficulty from the blame for the sin alleged to have taken place. For the things we see do not have whatever nature we will, but rather that which befalls each. The soul receives an impression in its own ways through the sight. Accordingly, if Helen's eye, taking pleasure in Alexander's body, transmitted to her soul the eagerness and struggle of Love, is it any wonder? If Love, <being> a god, <has> the divine power of gods, how could the weaker being have the power to reject this and to ward it off.
Translation ©1999 by Brian R. Donovan. <a href="http://www.classicpersuasion.org/pw/gorgias/helendonovan.htm">Full Text</a>