15
Deinias was now unable to bear the situation and could not endure not seeing her. He wept, he sent his toadies, he called upon the name of Charicleia, he embraced her statue (having had one of marble made for him), he wailed; at last he flung himself on the ground and rolled about, and his condition was absolute insanity. Naturally, the gifts which he exchanged for hers were not on a par with apples and wreaths, but whole apartment-houses, farms, and serving-women, gay clothing, and all the gold that she wanted. Why make a long story of it? In a trice the estate of Lyson, which had been the most famous in Ionia, was completely pumped out and exhausted.
16
And then, when at last he was drained dry, she left him, pursued another gilded youth from Crete, and went over to him; now she loved him, and he put faith in it. Neglected not only by Charicleia but by the toadies, for they too had now gone over to the Cretan whom she loved, Deinias sought out Agathocles, who had long known that things were going badly with him. Though overcome with shame at first, nevertheless he told the whole story—his passion, his desperate straits, the woman’s disregard, the Cretan rival—and in conclusion said that he would not remain alive if he could not have Charicleia. Agathocles thought it unseasonable at that moment to remind Deinias that he used never to be glad to see him, and him only, of all his friends, but used always to give preference to his toadies in those days. So he sold all that he had, the house that he had inherited in Samos, and came back bringing him the price, three talents. When Deinias received this, it was at once patent to Charicleia that in some way he had once more become handsome. Again the maid, and the notes, and reproof because he had not come for a long while; and the toadies came running up to dangle a line for him, seeing that Deinias was still good for a meal.
