On Anger, Book 2, Section 33 — In Plain English

Seneca — The Senator

We must stay calm no matter who provokes us — whether they're our equal, above us, or below us. Fighting an equal could go either way. Fighting a superior is stupid. Fighting an inferior is shameful. Only weak, miserable people bite back when bitten. Even mice and ants show their teeth when you touch them. All helpless creatures think they're being hurt just by being touched.

We'll be gentler if we remember the good things our enemy has done for us. Let their good deeds balance out their offense. Think about this too: forgiving someone earns you respect. Many enemies can become valuable friends through forgiveness.

Sulla's cruelty teaches us never to be angry with our enemies' children, whether in public or private life. He sent the sons of banned men into exile. Nothing is more unfair than inheriting your father's fights.

Seneca — The Senator Original

We must, therefore, refrain from anger, whether he who provokes us be on a level with ourselves, or above us, or below us. A contest with one’s equal is of uncertain issue, with one’s superior is folly, and with one’s inferior is contemptible. It is the part of a mean and wretched man to turn and bite one’s biter: even mice and ants show their teeth if you put your hand to them, and all feeble creatures think that they are hurt if they are touched. It will make us milder tempered to call to mind any services which he with whom we are angry may have done us, and to let his deserts balance his offence. Let us also reflect, how much credit the tale of our forgiveness will confer upon us, how many men may be made into valuable friends by forgiveness. One of the lessons which Sulla’s cruelty teaches us is not to be angry with the children of our enemies, whether they be public or private; for he drove the sons of the proscribed into exile. Nothing is more unjust than that any one should inherit the quarrels of his father.

Seneca — The Senator

What did Priam do in the Iliad? He hid his anger and begged at Achilles' knees. He kissed the hand that had killed his son — that same blood-stained hand — and ate dinner with his son's killer. True! But there were no fancy perfumes or flower garlands at that meal. And his fierce enemy spoke kindly to him, gently encouraging him to eat. No one forced him to drain huge cups while a guard watched to make sure he drank. If Priam had only been worried about himself, he would have scorned the tyrant. But his love for his son crushed his anger. He deserved permission to leave the feast and collect his son's bones. But meanwhile, that 'kind and polite' young emperor wouldn't even allow him to do this. Instead, he tortured the old man by constantly inviting him to drink more, telling him it would ease his grief. The emperor acted cheerful and seemed to have forgotten what he had done that day. If Priam had been a poor dinner guest to his eldest son's murderer, he would have lost his second son too.

Seneca — The Senator Original

What did Priam do in the Iliad? Did he not conceal his wrath and embrace the knees of Achilles? did he not raise to his lips that death-dealing hand, stained with the blood of his son, and sup with his slayer? True! but there were no perfumes and garlands, and his fierce enemy encouraged him with many soothing words to eat, not to drain huge goblets with a guard standing over him to see that he did it. Had he only feared for himself, the father would have treated the tyrant with scorn: but love for his son quenched his anger: he deserved the emperor's permission to leave the banquet and gather up the bones of his son: but, meanwhile, that kindly and polite youth the emperor would not even permit him to do this, but tormented the old man with frequent invitations to drink, advising him thereby to lighten his sorrows. He, on the other hand, appeared to be in good spirits, and to have forgotten what had been done that day: he would have lost his second son had he proved an unacceptable guest to the murderer of his eldest.