The Life of Polycrates and Other Stories for Antiquated Children (2 page)

BOOK: The Life of Polycrates and Other Stories for Antiquated Children
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Rea, see her jowls dripping with oil of land-snail,
face plastered over with layers of white lead;
fourteen sons have flown from her one womb;
but none are squat, podgy like Sarapammon.

 

Of Hieronymus, who had prospered greatly by the destruction of Aeaces:

 

Hieronymus wrestles with blind Aristippus
in the humid shadows of the gymnasium;
then shares his cloak with homeless Rhadamanthys,
a stench worse than toad guts!

V.

 

The image of Hera, that primordial goddess, the genetrix of all things, was originally a plank of wood, a simple aniconic fetish, but later the artist Smilis, son of Eucleides and a contemporary of Daedalus, carved it into the figure of a woman of celestial beauty. . . . The maidens, with great care, bathed her in the water of the dark sea; then, on the pebbly beach, they dressed her in an apoptygma embroidered with flowers, tied a golden pendant around her neck and attached gold bracelets to her wrists. She was raised up, and under the orange-coloured sun carried to the Heraion. Nearly the entire citizenry of Samos, and many from Ephesus, Miletus, Icaros and Tragia followed behind, making their way in animated and serpentine procession along the twisted trail. Musicians clasped their lyres and pipes and walked with mincing steps; and choirs of bare-chested youths strode forward, songs going from lip to lip, describing in language rich with metaphor the glorious qualities of the bride of mighty Zeus, the great protecting queen of the isle;—all were prepared and ambitious for the musical and athletic competitions that were to be held later that day.

And then there were the mothers who, with garlands of lotus flowers entwined over respectably full breasts, led their children by the hand. And people of every age and station of life, laughing, murmuring, whispering: some faces grave with faith: old men leaned upon canes, tipsy from indulging in extra holiday cups: rich citizens took deliberate, pompous strides, their hair luxuriously braided and dripping with costly, sweet-smelling oils: militiamen, warriors of the city were there possessed of arms, to symbolically deposit at the feet of the goddess as offering: and Pantagnotus and Syloson bore spears.


I never realised how heavy a spear was,” said Syloson, shifting the weapon from one arm to the next.

Pantagnotus looked at his brother with disdain, and asked in an undertone, “Are you sure you are even able to use it?”


Well, if I have to stick it in some poor brute’s guts in order to get rid of it, I believe that I am quite able. It is such an uncomfortable piece of luggage . . .”

They walked with the people, followed the deity.

And she was carried along the reedy bank of the river Imbraxos, beneath the willows, and those tender and dripping branches tickled her face and figure; beneath the Lygos tree, under whose shade she herself had travailed; and to the temple, which was now surrounded by booths where small votive offerings and foodstuffs were sold, cakes of sesame and honey sitting in high stacks, pyramidical rolls of wheat, anchovies sizzling in hot pans and radiating a delicious odour, and small roasted birds full ready to fly down one’s throat as if of their own accord. Fourteen oxen were corralled nearby, their thighs destined for the sacrifice; and the men let their tongues run over their naked lips or moustaches, for the remaining meat would be theirs, roasted to consume. Conspicuous was the great bronze cauldron of Colaeus, which was five feet high and endowed with marvellously worked griffin protomes, itself resting on three kneeling figures of carved marble, each ten feet high. The temple was filled with offerings; ivory carvings from Phoenicia; masterfully crafted small bronze votives from Egypt; cloths from Syria, Mesopotamia and Persia; Etruscan, Laconic and Corinthian ceramics; Attic black-figured vases; and thousands of terra cotta offerings from Cyprus. She, Hera, was set at the head of the high altar, besides which were heaped the ashes of countless former sacrifices. A vine tendril was placed on her head, by way of crown, and a lion skin laid at her feet.

Now women placed garlands of poppies and baskets of pomegranates, each rich in seed, before that goddess who was mistress of both vegetation and fertility, while the white-robed gold-decked neopoiai, the guardians of the temple, looked on and recited sacred hymns. Then the warriors approached, and each in turn lay their arms at the feet of Hera; but Pantagnotus, Syloson and fifteen of their followers hung back, so that when all other men were unarmed they brandished their weapons and in a body made a threatening cry.

Then Pantagnotus spoke, in a loud voice, his lips stretched back so all could see sharp white teeth set in blood-red gums. “People of Samos,” he said, “for a long time now my family has been denied its rightful position, Polycrates, my elder brother denied his throne. From this day forward it will be otherwise, for Lord Polycrates, who the goddess Hera will always favour, has secured the city nearby, and we here who stand before you with sharp swords and spears quivering for seditious flesh, will take appropriate action against any who do not wish to live under his and our benevolent rule.”

The people turned their eyes to the city, and saw distantly the minute appearance of men waving red flags at key points along the wall, and smoke rising up from certain locations, from those places where the mansions of the oligarchs sat. At this, several brave men of those noble families, Hieronymus amongst them, rushed upon the altar for their weapons, but they were instantly cut down, and their blood spilled over the white temple stones, Hieronymus pierced through the heart by the tip of Pantagnotus’ spear. The majority however did not make any rebellious outcry, for they had been well treated by Polycrates, drunken the wine of his table, eaten the fruit of his orchard, their fathers and grandfathers clothed in garments delivered by his hand; so they voiced their support, chanted Polycrates’ name, and those who were still opposed (such as Sarapammon) did not dare to openly show discontent, because it would be at the cost of their lives. So the sons of Aeaces came to rule Samos.

VI.

 

At the beginning Polycrates divided the state into three parts, Hesia, Aeschrionia and Astypalaia. He gave Hesia to Pantagnotus, Aeschrionia to Syloson, and kept Astypalaia for himself. But this arrangement turned out to be unsatisfactory. Pantagnotus and Syloson were both covetous of money, the latter because it could buy him luxury, the former, power.

Pantagnotus surrounded himself with a bodyguard of criminals, convicted murderers from Mysia and Euboea, cut-throats who would hazard their lives for ignominy, profligate youth from home and abroad, young men who had squandered their patrimony on lewd female companions and fatty comestibles, who, through laziness, had barely kept from perishing from lack of food on their own estates and came to Hesia (which had become like a sewer) to make good pay by performing simple though vicious deeds. He stripped temples of their treasures, demanded gifts from all landowners, confiscated the property of widows, taxed and fined many citizens unjustly and had others put to death, simply to gain possession of their goods, and left their children to wander naked through the countryside, disenfranchised orphans; so Hesia, the territory that was his own, suffered as if it were under the rule not of a native, but rather some foreign oppressor eager to inflict retribution, to rob and humiliate the people. And his power grew. He gathered in stores of arms and armour and attracted more followers, paying for it all at the expense of the community.

. . . . . . he enjoyed watching flying insects kill themselves in a candle flame; he stabbed a man in Magnesia just to watch him die; throughout Hesia he placed spies and eavesdroppers; if a man spoke badly of him, Pantagnotus would have his nose slit or even cut off along with his ears.

In contradistinction was Syloson, who neglected his administrative duties and spent his time instead in the company of his various flatterers, catamites and eunuchs. Together they would drink wine from Scianthus and Rhodes, watch trained puppies from Malta jump through hoops, the gyrations of ithyphallic dancers, and nude acrobats balance in headstands on the points of swords. He shaved away his beard and had his face painted to look like the goddess Aphrodite; he began to use a depilatory ointment, made from four parts quicklime and one part orpiment, on his legs and chest; and, for hours daily, he soaked his body in a large gilded tub perfumed with essence of crocus. He would steep his feet and legs in Egyptian unguents, have his thighs rubbed down with thick palm oil, his arms with sweet mint, eyebrows and hair with marjoram, and neck with essence of thyme. Extensive sums of money were expended on dainties, imported ostriches from Africa, fat eels from Rhegium and almonds from Cyprus. And if all this was not enough, he violated the chastity of a virgin, a priestess of Athena Ergane, and subsequently had the audacity to have her buried alive for violating her oaths.

He spent his days in sleep and his nights in revelry, devoting himself wholly to his appetites. Sometimes he would stay indoors for a whole week, without once leaving his house, without once being touched by a ray of the sun. He did not bother with religion, philosophy, hunting or athletics but seemed instead to believe that manhood was made up of pleated cloaks of richly-dyed wool and extravagant footwear.

He had a follower, Pison by name, an individual so small and thin that he looked as if a strong wind would blow him away; so diminutive indeed that Pythagoras, in a frivolous mood, had once remarked that, while all things in the universe are made up of atoms, atoms themselves are made up of Pisons;—and this Pison, this hypothetical particle of matter, who was in himself a catalogue of undesirable qualities, would, like some greedy shrew, eat daily twice his weight in food—comestibles smothered in rich sauces, sweet delicate things—whatever indeed could be found at his friend’s lavishly furnished table.

The two sat together, in a luxuriously furnished room, on soft bags of cloth filled with feathers, wine-filled drinking cups and platters of delicacies placed between them.


This afternoon,” Pison said, “while going for a stroll, I saw a man digging his field, and the very sight made me feel as if all my bones were broken.”


Well,” Syloson replied, languidly fingering a Phibalean fig, “just your telling me this story makes me feel as if an ox were standing on my shoulder.”


Which one?”


Oh, I am uncertain. . . . Maybe the left.”


Are you sweating?”

Syloson bit into the fig, and chewing replied, “Possibly . . . if you see perspiration glistening my upper lip.”

Pison’s face assumed a look of great concern, almost panic and, without losing time, he cupped his hands around his mouth like a horn and shouted, “Iops, Zetes, come out you dirty slaves! Your master’s lip is exhausted from labour, his person demands the breath of cooling fans of feathers!”

Immediately there was heard from without the hurried sound of sandals coursing over handsomely tiled halls, and a moment later two anxious slaves presented themselves, each carrying an enormous fan of oil-of-civet-scented ostrich feathers. Iops fanned Syloson while Zetes, a lad with dreamy eyes, fanned Pison.


But tell me, will your chef be serving fried caviar today?”


Pison, you are surely the slimmest of pigs.”

VII.

 

Syloson was simply a fool; Pantagnotus was level-headed, cold, dangerous. For Polycrates, both were liabilities. In the middle of the night he had Pantagnotus abducted and taken to a country house where molten gold was poured down the man’s throat; the next day he had Syloson arrested and brought before him in fetters of the same metal.


Brother,” he said, “when I see you here before me, bloated and drugged with cheese, I must confess that my disgust nearly outweighs my compassion. Look at you, with your face as hairless as that of a woman! This in itself is a gross and clear sign that you are on a campaign of vice and are involving yourself in activities inconsistent with a beard.”

Syloson pouted. Polycrates continued:


While pampering your vile body, living in a disgraceful manner, you have neglected all those duties which position and rank require of you. Your laziness has reached disgusting proportions. You have become frightened by the sun and live by night, like some lycanthrope, your blood inflamed by the moon. You live like a woman instead of a man, keep company strictly with men who are no men. I have even heard that you keep a fool named Pison around to help you chew your food.”


It is not true; I chew my food and he chews his.”


Syloson . . . you will chew your food still. . . . You will leave this island with your life, and gold; and yearly I will send you more gold, enough to pay off companions and stuff your paunch with sauced-up jays and foxes. But if you ever show yourself on this island again, your stipend will be terminated . . . and you will be put to death.”

The next day Syloson was taken from the island in a small craft, frowning Pison
4
by his side, the gulls circling overhead, eyeing that latter, as if they might swoop down and carry him to their nests; and not long after, in Polycrates’ stables, a mare was foaled with cloven hooves.

BOOK: The Life of Polycrates and Other Stories for Antiquated Children
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