Dialogues of the Courtesans

Perseus Greek · Perseus Greek · 242 sections

8.2.4
Somehow you seem to want me to be hit, my dear Ampelis.
8.2.5
No, Chrysis, but in my opinion that’s the way great passions start, even though the men believe they’re being slighted. But if a man is confident he has you to himself, his desire for you somehow dwindles. That’s what I tell you after twenty whole years as a courtesan, whereas you, I think, are eighteen or even younger. If you like, I’ll tell you what happened to me not so very many years ago. Demophantus, the money-lender, who lives behind the Painted Stoa, was in love with me. He’s never given me more than five drachmas, but regarded himself as my master. His love was a superficial thing, my dear, that never made him groan or weep or appear at all hours at my doors, but he would merely sleep with me at not very frequent intervals.
8.3.1
But, after the time when he came and I locked him out, because I had with me Callides, the painter, who had sent me ten drachmas, to start with he went away abusing me. But, after many days had passed, and there was no word from me, as I had Callides in the house, eventually even Demophantus began to burn and blaze with passion, and one day he posted himself at my door and waited for it to open. He began to weep and strike me, he threatened to kill me, he tore my dress; there was nothing he didn’t do, and in the end he gave me a talent and kept me for himself alone for eight whole months. His wife said I’d driven him mad by means of drugs, but the only drug was his own jealousy. So, Chrysis, you’d better use the same treatment on Gorgias. He’ll be a rich young fellow if anything happens to his father.
9.1.1
We are ruined, mistress, ruined! Polemo has returned from the wars a rich man, they say. I’ve seen him myself wearing a purple-edged cloak all done up with a clasp, and a large retinue with him. When his friends saw him, they all flocked to him to welcome him. Meanwhile, I’d seen following behind him the servant who’d gone abroad with him and I questioned him. I greeted him first, and then said, “Tell me, Parmeno, how have you done? Have you brought back anything worth while for all that fighting?”
9.1.2
You shouldn’t have asked that right away, but said, “Thanks be to all the gods for your safe return, and thanks most of all to Zeus, Protector of the Stranger, and to Athene, Goddess of War. My mistress was always asking what you were doing and where you were.” And it would have been a lot better if you’d added that she was always crying and talking of Polemo.
9.2.1
I did start with all those preliminaries, but I wouldn’t have mentioned them to you; I wanted to tell you what I’d heard. My first words to Parmeno were, “Well, Parmeno, were your ears burning? My mistress was always talking of you and weeping; particularly at times when someone had returned from battle and there were said to be a lot of fatal casualties, would she tear her hair, beat her breast, and grieve at every message.”
9.2.2
Well done, Dorcas! That was just right.
9.2.3
Then a little later I asked the questions I’ve told you of, and he told me they’d returned in style.
9.2.4
What! Nothing first from him either about Polemo talking about me or missing me or praying he’d find me alive on his return?
9.2.5
He did indeed say a lot to that effect; but the main point was his news of great wealth, of gold, raiment, servants and ivory. He told me that the money they were bringing in silver wasn’t counted but measured by the bushel—and there were many bushels. Parmeno himself had on his little finger an enormous ring with many sides, which had set in it a jewel of three colours, the top layer being red. Well, I left him trying to tell me how they’d crossed the Halys, and killed someone called Tiridates, and how Polemo had distinguished himself in the battle with the Pisidians. I went running off to bring you this news, so that you can think what to do in the circumstances. If Polemo comes, as he certainly will, once he’s rid of his acquaintances, and starts asking questions, and finds Philostratus in the house with us, what do you think he’ll do?
9.3.1
We must find some escape from this situation. It wouldn’t be right for me to send Philostratus away, when he gave me a talent only the other day, and is, besides, a merchant, and promises me so much, nor yet would it be sensible for me to shut Polemo out, when he’s returned in such splendour. Besides, he’s so jealous, I could hardly put up with him even when he was poor. What do you think he’ll stop at now?
9.3.2
He’s coming.
9.3.3
I’m faint and helpless with panic.
9.3.4
Philostratus is coming too.
9.3.5
What’s to become of me? I wish the ground would swallow me up.
9.4.1
Why don’t we have a drink, Pannychis?
9.4.2
You’ve ruined me, fellow. Good day to you, Polemo. It’s a long time since I’ve seen you.
9.4.3
Who is this who’s being so familiar with you? Can’t you speak? Very well, Pannychis, go your own way. And here I’ve been rushing in haste from Thermopylae for five days, all for a woman like you! But it serves me right, though I’m grateful to think that henceforth I’ll be free from your plundering.
9.4.4
Who are you, my good man?
9.4.5
Polemo of the Stirian deme and the Pandionic tribe, let me tell you. One who first was leader of a thousand, but now has five thousand shields following him, one who loved Pannychis, while I believed she was still content with mortal thoughts.
9.4.6
But now, my good freelance, you’ll find that Pannychis is mine. She’s had a talent from me, and shall have another presently, as soon as I’ve disposed of my cargo. Come with me now, Pannychis, and leave this fellow to be colonel among his Thracians.
9.4.7
She’s a free woman, and will go with you only if she wishes.
9.4.8
What am I to do, Dorcas?
9.4.9
You’d better go in; you can’t go near Polemo when he’s so angry, and a little jealousy will only heighten his passion.
9.4.10
Please let’s go in, Philostratus.
9.5.1
I warn you that your drinking days will end today, or all my training in killing must go for nothing. Call up the Thracians, Parmeno. On with them in full armour, sealing off the alley with their phalanx! Hoplites in the centre, slingers and archers on the wings, and the rest in reserve!
9.5.2
You talk to us, mercenary, as though we were babes in arms whom you wish to scare with your idle threats. When did you ever kill so much as a cock or see fighting? You may have been a corporal guarding a few yards of wall, and that’s giving you the benefit of the doubt.
9.5.3
You’ll soon know all about it, when you see us advancing against your unguarded flank with our armour glittering in the sun.
9.5.4
Just prepare for the march and come on. Tibius here—he’s my only retainer—and I will pelt you with stones and potsherds and scatter you in such panic that you won’t know where you’ve gone.
10.1.1
Has young Clinias given up visiting you, Drosis? It’s a long time since I’ve seen him at your house.
10.1.2
Yes, Chelidonium. His tutor has stopped him from coming to see me any more.
10.1.3
Who’s he? Surely not Diotimus, the gymnastics master? He’s a friend of mine.
10.1.4
No, but that most accursed of Philosophers, Aristaenetus.
10.1.5
Do you mean the grim-looking fellow, with the shaggy hair and bushy beard, who’s always walking with his boys in the Painted Porch?
10.1.6
That’s the hypocrite I mean. I’d like to see him come to a bad end, with the hangman dragging him along by that beard.
10.2.1
Why ever did he induce Clinias to act like this?
10.2.2
I don’t know, Chelidonium. But, although he’d never missed a night with me, since he’d started going with women, and I was his first woman, for three days running now he’s not even come near our street. Since I was upset, as somehow I’d become rather fond of him, I sent Nebris to have a look at him, while he was in the Agora or the Painted Porch. She said she saw him walking around with Aristaenetus, and nodded to him from a distance, but he went red, kept his eyes down and didn’t look in her direction again. Then they walked together to the Academy. She followed as far as the Dipylon Gate, but since he’d never even turned in her direction, she came back without any definite information. You can imagine what it’s been like for me since that, as I can’t think what’s come over my boy! “I can’t have annoyed him in any way?” I kept asking myself. “Or has he fallen in love with some other woman, and hates me now? Has his father prevented his visiting me?” Many thoughts like that kept coming into my poor head, but, when it was already late in the afternoon, Dromo came with this note from him. Take it and read it, Chelidonium, for I believe you can read.
10.3.1
Let us see. The writing’s not very clear; it’s so slapdash that the writer was obviously in a hurry. He says, “Heaven knows how much I loved you, Drosis.”
10.3.2
Alas, poor me! He didn’t even start by wishing me well.
10.3.3
“And now I’m leaving you not because I hate you, but because I’m forced to do so. My father has handed me over to Aristaenetus to study philosophy under him, and Aristaenetus, finding out all about us, gave me a good telling-off, saying it was not at all the thing for a son of Architeles and Erasiclia to associate with a courtesan, for it was much better to prefer virtue to pleasure.”
10.3.4
Curse that old driveller for teaching the lad such things!
10.3.5
“So that I must obey him. He follows me everywhere, and keeps a close eye on me. In fact, I’m not allowed even to look at anyone but him. If I live a sober life, and obey him in everything, he promises me I’ll be completely happy, and shall become virtuous through my training in endurance. I’ve had the greatest difficulty in slipping away to write this to you. I pray that you may prosper, my dear, and never forget Clinias.”
10.4.1
What do you think of the letter, Chelidonium?
10.4.2
The rest of it might have come from a Scythian, but the part about never forgetting Clinias shows there’s still some hope.
10.4.3
Just what I thought. In any case I’m dying of love. But Dromo said that Aristaenetus is the sort who’s fond of boys, and, by pretending to teach them, keeps company with the handsomest youths, and has now got Clinias on his own, and spins him tales, promising of all things that he will make him like a god. Besides that, he’s reading with him amorous discourses addressed by the old Philosophers to their pupils, and is all wrapped up in the lad. Dromo threatened he’d tell Clinias’ father as well.
10.4.4
I hope, Drosis, you gave Dromo a good feed.
10.4.5
That I did, though he’ll do anything for me, even without that; he’s another who is desperate for the love of Nebris.
10.4.6
Don’t worry. Everything will be all right. I think I’ll write up on the wall in the Ceramicus, where Architeles often takes a walk, “Aristaenetus is corrupting Clinias”, so that we can charge to the swift support of Dromo’s charge.
10.4.7
How can you write it up without being seen?
10.4.8
By night, my dear. I’ll get a bit of charcoal somewhere.
10.4.9
Capital, Chelidonium. If only you can help me fight that old impostor Aristaenetus!
11.1.1
Who ever heard of a fellow who takes out a girl, pays her five drachmas, and then turns his back on her in bed, weeping and groaning? I don’t think you enjoyed the wine, or really wanted to dine alone with me. You were crying all through dinner; I noticed it. And now you keep on whimpering like a baby. Why, Charmides? Don’t keep it from me, so that I can have this further pleasure out of the sleepless night I’ve spent with you.
11.1.2
I’m dying of love, Tryphena. It’s too terrible for me to bear any longer.
11.1.3
Obviously I’m not the one you love, or you wouldn’t show such little interest in me, and keep pushing me away when I tried to hug you, or have ended by placing your cloak as a barrier between us, for fear of my touching you. But for all that tell me who she is. Perhaps I can help you in your love, for I know how to be of service in such matters.
11.1.4
You are very well acquainted with each other; she’s a well-known member of your profession.
11.2.1
Tell me her name, Charmides.
11.2.2
Philematium, Tryphena.
11.2.3
Which one? There are two. Do you mean the one from the Piraeus, who lost her virginity only the other day, and is loved by Damylus, the son of one of this year’s Generals, or the other one, the one they call the “Trap”?
11.2.4
That’s the one. I’m a poor victim that’s fallen right into her trap.
11.2.5
Then you were crying for her?
11.2.6
Indeed I was.
11.2.7
Have you loved for long, or was your initiation recent?
11.2.8
Far from recent; it’s almost seven whole months since the Dionysia, and the time when I first saw her.
11.2.9
Did you have a good look at her all over? Or did you only see her face, and the parts of her body immediately visible, and just as much as you should of a woman who’s forty-five if she’s a day?
11.2.10
But she swears she’ll be twenty-two next March.
11.3.1
But which will you believe—her solemn oaths or your own eyes? Take a close and careful look at her temples, the only place where her hair is her own. The rest of it is a thick wig. But along her temples the grey hairs show pretty well all over, whenever the dye she uses loses its effect. But why do that? Insist on seeing her unclothed.
11.3.2
Her favours to me have never extended so far.
11.3.3
That’s only to be expected. She knew you’d be revolted by her white spots, and she’s mottled like a leopard all the way from her neck down to her knees. Were you crying at being refused by a woman like that? Perhaps too she was cruel and proud to you?
11.3.4
Yes, Tryphena, even though I always give her so much; and now that I’ve found it difficult to give her the thousand drachmas that she’s asking because I’m dependent on a stingy father, she’s let Moschion in, and locked me out. I wanted to get even for that by annoying her, and so I asked you to accompany me.
11.3.5
By our Lady Aphrodite, I wouldn’t have come if I’d been warned that that was why my company was wanted—to annoy another woman, and Philematium, the Coffin, at that! No, I’ll be off, for this is already the third time that the cock’s crowed.
11.4.1
Don’t you be in such a hurry, Tryphena. If it’s true what you tell me about her wig, her dyed hair, and the white spots besides, I won’t be able to look at Philematium again.
11.4.2
Ask your mother, if they’ve ever been at the baths together. Her age you can find out from your grandfather, if he’s still living.
11.4.3
Well, since she’s like that, let’s remove the barrier this instant, snuggle up closer, kiss, and really enjoy each other’s company. To the devil with Philematium!
12.1.1
So, Lysias, you’re turning up your nose at me? It serves me right, seeing that I never asked money of you, or locked you out when you came, telling you I had another man with me, or forced you to cheat your father or rob your mother to bring me something. That’s what all the other courtesans do, but I let you come in from the start, though you didn’t pay me anything or contribute your share of the meal, and I sent away ever so many lovers, as you know, men such as Theocles, who’s an important man in the Council at the moment, and Pasion, the shipowner, and your companion, Melissus, though he lost his father the other day and now has control of the estate. But you were my only love, my Phaon, and I wouldn’t look at anyone or have anyone near me but only you. For I thought in my folly that your vows were true, and for that reason I’ve devoted myself to you and lived as chaste a life as Penelope, though my mother shouts at me and runs me down before her friends. But ever since you realised that I doted on you, and you had me under your thumb, you’ve been having jokes with Lycena, before my very eyes, to annoy me, or at other times praising Magidium, the harp-girl, when we were dining together. These things make me cry and feel insulted. Only the other day, when you were drinking with Thraso and Diphilus, the company also included the flute-girl Cymbalium, and Pyrallis, whom I loathe. As you know that, I didn’t worry particularly at your kissing Cymbalium five times. To kiss a woman like that was an insult to yourself! But oh! the way you kept on making signs to Pyrallis, and would lift up your cup to her, when you drank, and whisper in the slave’s ear, when you returned the cup, telling him not to give anyone a drink unless Pyrallis asked for one! In the end you bit off a piece of your apple, when you saw Diphilus was busy talking to Thraso, and, bending forward, shot it with skilful aim into her bosom, without any attempt to hide it from me. She kissed it, and, dropping it between her breasts, tucked it under her girdle.
12.2.1
Well, why do you act like that? Have I ever done anything great or small to harm or annoy you? Have I ever looked at another man? Don’t I live only for you? There’s nothing glorious, Lysias, in vexing like this a poor weak woman, who’s mad with love for you. There is such a goddess as Nemesis , and she sees things like this. Perhaps it will bring you grief when you hear that I lie dead, after hanging myself, or jumping head first into a well, or I’ll find some other way of killing myself, so that you won’t have the annoyance of seeing me any more. Then you’ll be able to swagger around with pride for a great and glorious achievement. Why do you look at me so angrily and gnash your teeth? If you have any complaint against me, speak up, and let Pythias here judge between us. Hullo? Are you going away and leaving me, without answering? Pythias, do you see how I’m being treated by Lysias?
12.2.2
What cruelty! Even your tears don’t soften his heart. He’s a stone, not a human being. But, if truth must be spoken, Joessa, you spoilt him by loving him too much, and letting him see it. You shouldn’t make very much of him at all. Men become proud when they see that. Stop crying, poor girl; take my advice and shut him out once or twice. Then you’ll find him burning with passion and really mad in his turn for your love.
12.2.3
Stop it! Don’t even say that! Me shut out Lysias? I only hope he won’t desert me first.
12.2.4
He’s coming back again.
12.2.5
You’ve ruined us, Pythias! Perhaps he’s heard you saying, “Shut him out!”
12.3.1
I’ve not come back because of her, Pythias, for I wouldn’t look at her till she changes her ways, but for your sake, so that you won’t think I’m in the wrong and say, “Lysias is heartless.”
12.3.2
Indeed that’s just what I was saying, Lysias.
12.3.3
So, Pythias, you expect me to put up with Joessa? She may be all tears now, but I myself found her being unfaithful to me and sleeping with another young man.
12.3.4
Lysias, the point is that she’s a courtesan. But how did you catch them sleeping together?
12.3.5
It was about five days ago; yes, by Jove, five it was, for it was the second of the month, and it’s the seventh today. My father, knowing that I’d long been in love with this paragon among women, had shut me in, with instructions to the porter that he wasn’t to open the door for me. But I, unable to stay away from her, told Dromo to bend down along the top of the courtyard wall at its lowest part, and let me mount his back. In that way I’d be able to climb up more easily. To cut my story short, I got over the wall, came here, and found the door carefully bolted, for it was midnight. I didn’t knock, but gently eased the door up off its hinges, as I’d done on earlier occasions, and, pushing it open, entered without making a sound. Everybody was asleep, and I felt my way along the wall till I was at the bed.
12.4.1
In Demeter’s name, what are you going to say? I’m on tenterhooks.
12.4.2
When I could make out the breath of more than one person, at first I thought Lyde was sleeping with her. But that wasn’t so, Pythias, for, when I touched her companion, it was a smooth-chinned, soft-skinned man, with his head shaved, and reeking of scent like a woman. If I’d had my sword with me, when I’d made this discovery, believe me, I wouldn’t have hesitated! Why are you laughing, Pythias? Do you see anything funny in what I say?
12.4.3
Was that what annoyed you, Lysias? It was Pythias here who was sleeping with me.
12.4.4
Don’t tell him, Joessa.
12.4.5
Why not? It was Pythias, darling. I asked her to sleep with me, because I was miserable without you.
12.5.1
Pythias the man with the shaved head? Has she grown all this hair in the five days since then?
12.5.2
She had her head shaved, because she was ill and her hairs were falling out. But now she’s wearing a wig. Show him, Pythias, show him I’m telling the truth. Convince him. Take a look at the young man, the lover of whom you were so jealous!
12.5.3
Well, hadn’t I good reason? Especially as I loved you, and had touched your companion with my own hands?
12.5.4
Then you believe me now? Do you want me to get my own back by annoying you? I’ve a perfect right to be angry in my turn.
12.5.5
Please don’t. Let’s have some wine now, and Pythias with us. She ought to be there when the wine seals our truce.
12.5.6
So she shall. Oh, but how I’ve suffered because of you, Pythias, you noble young fellow!
12.5.7
But I was also the one who made you friends again, and so you mustn’t be angry with me. But there’s one thing, Lysias. Be sure you tell nobody about my hair.
13.1.1
And tell us, Chenidas, how in the battle with the Galatians I rode out ahead of all the other cavalrymen on my white horse, and how the Galatians for all their courage were stricken with fear the moment they saw me, and not one of them stood his ground. On that occasion I hurled my lance like a javelin and sent it through the leader of their cavalry and his horse as well, and then turning against those of them that still offered concerted resistance—for there were a few still remaining who, instead of the phalanx, had now adopted a rectangular formation—turning against these, I drew my blade, and, charging with all my fury, knocked over half a dozen or so of their front rank by the onset of my horse, and, bringing my sword down on the head of one of their captains, I split it in two, helmet and all. The rest of you came up, Chenidas, a little later, when the enemy were already in flight.
13.2.1
Yes, Leontichus, and when you fought in single combat with the satrap in Paphlagonia, wasn’t that another great exhibition of your prowess?
13.2.2
Thank you for reminding me of another not ignoble exploit. The satrap, a gigantic man, and reputed to excel all other warriors in heavy armour, despising the Greek forces, leapt out between the two armies and challenged all comers to offer him single combat. All our other officers were terrified, and that included even our General himself, though he’s a man of spirit. At the time, you know, we were under the command of Aristaechmus, the Aetolian, whose skill with the javelin is unrivalled, and I was still a mere colonel. I, however, acted boldly and shaking off my comrades who were holding me back through fear for me when they saw the barbarian resplendent in his golden armour, a mighty figure with fearsome crest, brandishing his lance——
13.2.3
I was another who was afraid on that occasion, Leontichus, and you know how I clung to you, begging you not to court danger ahead of us, for my life would not have been worth living, if you had been killed.

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