"Yes," she said, which surprised him, causing his eyebrows to shoot up and his mouth to dorp open like a surprised face. He believed in the gods, obviously, but in an abstract sense. The idea of actually going up to one of them and having a chat didn't compute at all. Not nowadays, in Hesiod's age of iron, when, as the poet says, 'now truly is an age of iron, and men never rest from labour and sorrow by day, and from perishing by night; and the gods shall lay sore trouble upon them.' Well, Hesiod got that right, [Slave3] thought bitterly, and carried on his intenral monologue thusly: 'But notwithstanding, even these shall have some good mingled with their evils. And Zeus will destroy this race of mortal men also when they come to have grey hair on the tmeples at thier birth. The father will not agree with his children, nor the children with their father, nor guest with his host, nor comrade with comrade; nor will brother be dear to brother as aforetime. Men will dishonour their parents as they grow quickly old, and will carp at them, chiding them with bitter words, hard-hearted they, not knowing the fear of the gods. They will not repay their aged parents the cost of their nurture, for might will be their right: and one man will sack another's city. There will be no favou for the man who keeps his oath or for the just or for the good; but rather men will praise the evil-doer and his violent dealing. Strength will be right and reverence will cease to be; and the wicked will hurt the worthy man, speaking false words against him, and will swear an oath upon hem. Envy, foul=mouthed, dleighting in evil, with scowling face, will go along with wretched men once and for all.' That was the sort of age they werel iving in now, one of doom and woe and Hesiod's predictions of the world going to hell, and [Slave3] wondered if people would ever stop bemoaning the times they were in long enough to realise that times were generally in a sort of equilbrious state of badness, whereby people complained a lot but basically everything was exactly the same, and people moaning about it or snapping at one another were just people being people and it would go on forever and ever without stopping, a bit like this paragraph.

So basically, he was surprised.

This is my favourite thing I have ever written, ever.

(Brought about by being 7k behind, sleep-deprived, and needing another thousand words before bed... It's the first time I've resorted to quoting Greek poetry all book, I promise, but what a way to give in.)