COCHLIS

Why these tears, Parthenis? How did you break these pipes you’re carrying?

PARTHENIS

It was that soldier from Aetolia, the big fellow who loves Crocale. He slapped me when he found me playing at Crocale’s house, when I’d been hired by his rival Gorgos, and bursting in smashed my pipes, overturned the table while we were still at dinner, and spilt the wine out of the bowl. Then he dragged Gorgos, that poor fellow from the country, out of the room by the hair, and both the soldier himself—Dinomachus I think he’s called—and his comrade, stood over him beating him up. And so I don’t know whether the fellow will survive, Cochlis, for blood poured in streams from his nose, and his whole face is swollen and all black and blue.

COCHLIS

Was the fellow out of his senses or was it a drunken fit?

PARTHENIS

It was jealousy, my dear, and excess of love. Crocale, I believe, had asked for two talents, if he wanted to keep her all to himself. When he refused to pay, she banged the door shut in his face, so they said, and asked in Gorgos of Oenoe, a rich farmer, an admirer of long standing, and an excellent fellow, drank with him and brought me in to give them some music. The wine had begun to flow, I was striking up one of my Lydian airs, the farmer was just getting up to dance, Crocale was clapping, and everything was most pleasant, when we heard crashes and shouts, there was a battering on the front door, and a moment later eight or nine strapping young fellows including that yahoo ¹ came rushing in. Well everything was turned upside down at once, and Gorgos, as I said, was knocked about, and kicked as he lay on the ground. Somehow Crocale was quick enough to escape next door to Thespias’ house, but I was slapped by Dinomachus, who then threw my broken pipes after me, and told me to “get to blazes out of it”. Now I’m hurrying off to tell my master about this, while the farmer is on his way to see some friends in town, who will bring that yahoo before the magistrates.

COCHLIS

That’s the profit one may get from having these soldiers for lovers—violence and suits in the law-courts. Besides, though they claim to be Generals and colonels, when the time comes to pay, they say, “Wait for pay-day, and the time I’m paid for my soldiering, and I’ll do anything you ask.” Oh, a plague on them with their empty boasts! I’m glad I’ve nothing at all to do with them. Give me a fisherman or sailor or farmer of my own class, who may have little skill in paying compliments, but gives lots of presents. But as for these fellows who shake their plumes and tell us all about their battles, why, Parthenis, they’re nothing but noise!