Vitae philosophorum
Diogenes Laertius
Diogenes Laertius. Hicks, R. D., editor. Cambridge, MA.: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1925.
He was a pupil of Crates, as stated above. Next they say he attended the lectures of Stilpo and Xenocrates for ten years—so Timocrates says in his Dion—and Polemo as well. It is stated by Hecato and by Apollonius of Tyre in his first book on Zeno that he consulted the oracle to know what he should do to attain the best life, and that the god’s response was that he should take on the complexion of the dead. Whereupon, perceiving what this meant, he studied ancient authors. Now the way he came
Crates passed by in the nick of time, so the bookseller pointed to him and said, Follow yonder man. From that day he became Crates’s pupil, showing in other respects a strong bent for philosophy, though with too much native modesty to assimilate Cynic shamelessness. Hence Crates, desirous of curing this defect in him, gave him a potful of lentil-soup to carry through the Ceramicus; and when he saw that he was ashamed and tried to keep it out of sight, with a blow of his staff he broke the pot. As Zeno took to flight with the lentil-soup flowing down his legs, Why run away, my little Phoenician? quoth Crates, nothing terrible has befallen you.
For a certain space, then, he was instructed by Crates, and when at this time he had written his Republic, some said in jest that he had written it on Cynosura, i.e. on the dog’s tail.[*](Cynosura, Dog’s Tail, like Dog’s Head, Cynoscephalus, was the name of several promontories, notably one in Athens and one in Salamis. Relatively to Cynicism, holding on by the dog’s tail would seem a more appropriate interpretation.) Besides the Republic he wrote the following works:
There are also by him:
This is a list of his writings. But at last he left Crates, and the men above mentioned were his masters for twenty years. Hence he is reported to have said, I made a prosperous voyage when I suffered shipwreck. But others attribute this saying of his to the time when he was under Crates.
A different version of the story is that he was staying at Athens when he heard his ship was wrecked and said, It is well done of thee, Fortune, thus to drive me to philosophy. But some say that he disposed of his cargo in Athens, before he turned his attention to philosophy.
He used then to discourse, pacing up and down in the painted colonnade, which is also called the colonnade or Portico[*](Our word colonnade better describes a roofed building, supported at least on one side by pillars and thus affording a public thoroughfare like an arcade or cloister, but open to the sun and air. Owing, however, to the Latin porticus Zeno’s school has received in English literature the appellation of the Porch. The frescoes or pictures, with which the Stoa was adorned, made it in some sense the National Gallery of Athens. For further information see by all means Frazer’s note on Pausanias i. 15 (vol. ii. pp. 132-137).) of Pisianax, but which received its name
The people of Athens held Zeno in high honour, as is proved by their depositing with him the keys of the city walls, and their honouring him with a golden crown and a bronze statue. This last mark of respect was also shown to him by citizens of his native town, who deemed his statue an ornament to their city,[*](Pliny, N.H. xxxiv. 92.) and the men of Citium living in Sidon were also proud to claim him for their own. Antigonus (Gonatas) also favoured him, and whenever he came to Athens would hear him lecture and often invited him to come to his court. This offer he declined but dispatched thither one of his friends, Persaeus, the son of Demetrius and a native of Citium, who flourished in the 130th Olympiad (260-256 b.c.), at which time Zeno was already an old man. According to Apollonius of Tyre in his work upon Zeno, the letter of Antigonus was couched in the following terms: