Book 8
2
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.
3
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.
