Book 13
3
But I acted boldly and advanced out there, wearing just as fine armour as the Paphlagonian, and encased in gold from head to toe just like him, so that a shout arose immediately, both from our men and from the barbarians, for they too recognised me by my shield in particular and by my spangles and my crest. Tell us, Chenidas, whom did they all think I resembled then?
3
Achilles, of course, son of Peleus and Thetis. So distinguished was your helmet, so bright your purple, so resplendent your shield.
3
When we met, the barbarian struck first, wounding me slightly by grazing me with his spear just above the knee, but I drove my lance through his shield, and penetrated right through to his chest. Then I rushed at him, lopped off his head with my blade without any difficulty, and returned, not only with his arms, but carrying his head fixed on my lance, and bathed in blood.
4
Stop, Leontichus. Your stories about yourself are repulsive and gruesome, and no girl would ever look again at a fellow who takes such pleasure in bloodshed, far less drink with him, or spend the night with him. So I’ll be off.
4
I offer you double the money.
4
I couldn’t bear to sleep with a murderer.
4
Don’t be afraid, Hymnis. These exploits are all over and happened in Paphlagonia; for the moment I’m at peace.
4
But you’re unclean, and the blood dripped over you from his head, when you carried it on your spear. And then you expect me to embrace and kiss a fellow like that? May the Graces save me from that! He’s no better than the public executioner.
4
But, if you’d seen me in heavy armour, I’m sure you’d have fallen in love with me.
