"The time to stop them, then, is now while they are afar off, not when they come sailing into your fine new harbor with a thousand ships." I thought I sounded wise, but Demetrios Phalereus rejoined:
"Dear boy, don't you suppose that we have been over all these arguments a hundred times, the king and his councilors? If the answer were easily had, we should have come to it long since. I will confide to you that the Ptolemaios grows yearly more cautious, and his disaster in Cyprus inclines him to shun foreign adventures, like a turtle that has pulled its head into its shell."
"Well, then, is there nothing we can do to tip the scale in our direction?"
Demetrios Phalereus cocked his head and squinted a painted eyelid. "Let me think ... The king does cherish one ambition that few know of, and I am not without influence with the king. If somebody wanted something badly enough to reveal to me how the king might achieve his ambition, without claiming any credit for himself—well, something might be done."
"What is the royal ambition?"
"Do you understand that if you have any useful thoughts on the matter, you will speak of them to my ear alone?"
"Yes, yes, I understand. But what's this mysterious yearning? To fly to heaven on the back of a gryphon?"
Demetrios Phalereus looked at me with displeasure. "You are an irritating young man at times."
"I'm sorry, sir. Impatience is one of my many shortcomings."
"Very well. If we clearly understand each other, there need be no recriminations later. And don't doubt that I can cause trouble for those who play me false." He reminded me of Kallias at this juncture. "Well, what the king wants is this: to set up, here in Alexandria, some thing, or building, or institution that shall be wholly new in the world. That, he thinks, is the one sure way of being remembered forever."
"You mean something that doesn't yet exist?"
"Precisely. It is to be invented."
I pondered. "How about a colossal statue—say, of Zeus, overlooking the harbor?"
"My dear Chares, don't you think we have heard of Lysippos' colossi at Taras?"
"Well, let's make the new statue twice as tall as the Tarentine Zeus—on which I had the honor to assist the great Lysippos."
"You do not seem to understand. The king wants something new in kind, not merely an old idea enlarged."
I thought some more. "How about a great lighthouse? You could erect it on Pharos Island, tall enough to be seen a thousand furlongs at sea."
"That is a better try. Unfortunately we have already thought of that. The king has even had architects' preliminary drawings made. It will be years, however, before we shall have the funds to start it."
"I give up," I said, "at least for now. If Helios-Apollon vouchsafe me any more suggestions, I'll let you know."
"Do so. And now, let me tell you of my plans for a new anthology of the early lyric poets ..."
Despite the dyed hair, the cosmetics, and the dubious reputation, Demetrios Phalereus was a most stimulating dinner companion. He had been a pupil of the all-knowing Aristoteles and had taught in his school. He seemed to have read everything and could discourse with equal fluency on history, philosophy, politics, warfare, poetry, and rhetoric.
When the time came to leave, I approached Manethôs , who was still arguing with Hekataios: "... nay, nay, it was not that King Rhameses but a later one of the same name. Oh, is it time to go already?"
"I fear so," said Hekataios. "What we need is some central place where all this information, such as we have been discussing, is brought together, so that a scholar can study it all at once, instead of having to travel all over the Inner Sea to find the needed scholars and books."
Demetrios Phalereus had bid his guests good night at the main gate and disappeared into the palace grounds, and we were dispersing into the dark of the Broucheion district— the richer preceded by their own link boys—when an idea struck me with the force of a thunderbolt.
"Demetrios!" I shouted. I tried to rush back through the gate, but the sentries stopped me.
"Get Demetrios Phalereus!" I cried. "It's urgent! I must speak to him at all costs!"
So excited was my manner that the corporal of the guard said: "Kleon, go tell Lord Demetrios. And you, young man, your errand had better be worth his lordship's while if you don't want a beating for making a disturbance."
Soon Demetrios Phalereus arrived, looking old in the torchlight with the paint and powder washed off.
"What is it, Chares?" said he in a rather brusque tone.
"I have it! I have it!"
"You have what?"
"You know, that idea we were talking about. If you don't wish it made public property, show me to a place where we can talk."
When Demetrios Phalereus had led me back to his chambers, I said: "What the Ptolemaios needs to immortalize his name is a library. Don't wave your hand at me until I have finished, please, sir. I don't mean an ordinary library, such as many cities now have, with a couple of hundred scrolls and one sleepy slave to sort and mend them. This would be a library of a wholly new kind.
"I have in mind a vast collection of copies of all the books that have ever been written: books not only in Greek but also in other tongues, such as Egyptian and Babylonian, with word books whereby scholars can translate from one language to another. These books should be arranged in logical order: by languages, and within each language by the author. At one end of the racks should be all books by authors whose names begin with alpha, then all those beginning with beta, and so on through the alpha-beta. Do you follow me?"
"I begin to," said Demetrios Phalereus.
"Then, there should be a permanent staff of well-paid scholars to care for these books. They would not only keep the books sorted and mended, but they would also direct the slaves to copy the books before they wore out. The copyists would make extra copies for the reserves of the library and for outside sale. There would also be employees whose sole business it was to know the contents of the scrolls and direct inquiring scholars to the books they want. Say, a fellow drifts in from Syracuse. 'I hear there is a copy of Pittakos' On the Laws here,' he says. 'It is a lost work in our part of the world.' The librarian says: 'Right this way, sir; third stack, fourteenth case, sixth row from the bottom.' Such a librarian could even help with the research."
"Is this so different from the libraries of today?" asked Demetrios Phalereus.
"Herakles, yes! What happens now? Suppose a geographer wishes to know where the Nile comes from and what makes it rise and fall with the seasons. He goes to Athens, where he hears contradictory opinions by various philosophers and perhaps reads two or three treatises. Then he goes to Megara and reads a little more; then he takes ship to Kôs, and so on. By the time he has reached one city, he has forgotten most of what he heard or read in the last one he visited. And, needless to say, all this travel is too costly and time-consuming for all but a few.
"But with a universal library our inquirer can compare all these opinions at once and decide whether to accept one of them or to set off up the Nile on his own to find out. Now there is no place on earth where such comparison is possible. The king who made such a library a reality need never be forgotten, unless the world be overwhelmed by another flood like that of Deukalion."
"But books are costly," said Demetrios Phalereus thoughtfully.
"Of course they are, but you can still buy hundreds of books for the cost of one trireme." As I paused, the unseen powers furnished me with a clinching argument. "You already have the core of your library in the stolen hoard of Tis of Hanes, which includes thousands of rolls. Don't try to do the whole thing at once. Start with Tis's books, then add a few hundred scrolls a year. Make copies of all books coming into the kingdom, and before many years have passed you will indeed have the world's wonder."