So what happens? When we have foolish ideas about things we can't control — when we think these things are good or bad — we end up having to care what tyrants think. I wish people only had to worry about tyrants, not also about the emperor's bedroom attendants. How does a man suddenly become wise just because Caesar put him in charge of the emperor's toilet? Why do we immediately say, "Felicion gave me good advice"? I wish he'd get kicked out of the bedroom, so you could see he's still a fool.
What then? When absurd notions about things independent of our will, as if they were good and (or) bad, lie at the bottom of our opinions, we must of necessity pay regard to tyrants: for I wish that men would pay regard to tyrants only, and not also to the bedchamber men. How is it that the man becomes all at once wise, when Cæsar has made him superintendent of the close stool? How is it that we say immediately, Felicion spoke sensibly to me? I wish he were ejected from the bedchamber, that he might again appear to you to be a fool.