Reader

DORIOSo, Myrtale, you shut the door in my face now that I’ve Beggared myself because of you, though, when I brought all those gifts, I was your darling, your man, your lord, your all! But now that I’ve been drained completely dry, and you have found your Bithynian merchant to love you, I’m shut out and stand before your doors in tears, while he enjoys your kisses at night, spending the whole night alone with you, and you say you’re about to have his child. MYRTALEThat’s what riles me most of all, Dorio—the way you keep saying you’ve been generous to me and have Beggared yourself for me. Just start from the beginning and reckon up all the gifts you’ve brought me.

DORIOAn excellent idea, Myrtale; let’s do that. First, a pair of shoes from Sicyon worth two drachmas. Put down two drachmas. MYRTALEBut you spent two nights with me. DORIOThen, when I came from Syria, a vase of Phoenician perfume, also costing two drachmas, I swear it by Poseidon. MYRTALEBut, when you had to sail, I gave you that little waistcoat to wear while rowing. Epiurus, the officer of the fo’c’sle, had left it here by mistake, when he spent a night with me. DORIOEpiurus recognised it in Samos the other day, and got it back, though, by heaven, we had quite a fight over it. Then I brought you onions from Cyprus, five fish from the Nile, i. e. κορακῖνος, which abounded in the Nile, and is perhaps Tilapia nilotica. and four perches, on our return from the Bosporus. Oh yes, and a basket with eight ship’s loaves, and a jar of dried figs from Caria, and another time a pair of gilded sandals from Patara, you ungrateful creature! And I remember the time I brought you that great cheese from Gythium. A port in Laconia. MYRTALEAll this comes to perhaps five drachmas, Dorio.

DORIOOh Myrtale, I brought you all a seaman could afford out of his pay. Recently I’ve been put in charge of the starboard hands, and you despise me! Not so long ago, when it was the feast of Aphrodite, didn’t I put a silver drachma at the feet of the goddess on your account? Then again I gave your mother two drachmas for a pair of shoes, and many’s the time I’ve slipped two or even four obols into the hand of Lyde here. All these together amounted to the whole worldly wealth of any sailor. MYRTALEThe onions, you mean, Dorio, and those fish from the Nile? DORIOYes, I’d nothing more to give you. I shouldn’t be an oarsman, if I were a man of means. Why, I’ve never to this day brought my mother a single head of garlic. I wish you’d told me what gifts you had from the Bithynian. MYRTALEWell, first take a look at this dress. He bought it, and the thicker of my necklaces. DORIOIt came from him, did it? I knew you’d had it for a long time. MYRTALENo, the one you knew was much thinner, and had no emeralds. Then there’s these earrings and that rug, and only the other day he gave me two minas, and paid our rent for us. That’s a little different from sandals from Patara or Gythian cheese, or rubbish like that!

DORIOBut won’t you tell me what sort of a lover you find him? He must be well over fifty, he’s going thin at the front, and he has the colour of a crawfish. And haven’t you noticed his teeth? By Castor and Pollux, the graces have been kind to him, particularly when he sings, and tries to show his good taste! He’s like the proverbial donkey treating himself to a solo on the harp. Good luck to you, for he’s just what you deserve, and I hope your child takes after his father! For my part I’ll find a Delphis or a Cymbalium who’s more my own sort, or perhaps it’ll be your neighbour who plays the pipe, but I’ll certainly find somebody. We don’t all have rugs or necklaces or presents of two minas to give you. MYRTALEWhat a lucky girl it’ll be that gets you for her lover, Dorio! You’ll bring her onions from Cyprus, and cheese any time you come from Gythium!