Mikon and I glanced guiltily at each other, for neither of us remembered exactly what had happened. Mikon presumed that the girl had been frightened by my violent goat dance, but it turned out that the girl in question was the one Mikon had carried into the garden. Mikon declared that the girl must have slept on the dewy grass and that this had caused her throat to swell. At least, he didn’t remember having done anything to hurt her.
Tanakil replied that the matter was serious and reflected unfavorably on our reputations as strangers. “Himerans are a superstitious people,” she said. “Also I and my house will fall under a shadow because of this incident, for everyone knows that a person who suddenly loses his power of speech is bewitched, unless of course he has unwittingly hurt some excessively sensitive god.”
Mikon became agitated like all men who are conscious of their guilt. “The only god we could have hurt was the foam-born, but by her magic belt I swear that we honored her in every way that I learned on Aphrodite’s sacrificial ship, and the girl certainly did not lose her speech during that time. Indeed she used it loudly to express her joy at the completeness of my education.”
“I am not blaming you,” said Tanakil, “for you are a gentle and inoffensive man. I have already sent the girl some compensation on your behalf but her parents are alarmed and fear that the girl will never be married if she remains dumb.”
Tanakil sent for the girl that we might see her condition for ourselves. When she finally entered with her father and mother I had difficulty in meeting the accusing looks of those simple people.
Mikon tried to hide behind us but when the girl saw him she ran to him joyously, knelt to kiss his hands and held them fondly to her cheek. With a helpless glance at her parents Mikon raised the girl to her feet, embraced her and kissed her lips.
No more was needed, for the girl drew a deep breath and burst into speech. She talked, wept, shouted and laughed until her parents, elated though they were, began to feel ashamed and told her to be quiet. Mikon gave them a handful of silver coins, whereupon they left rejoicing at their good fortune and taking their daughter with them.
When the matter had been so happily resolved I thanked Tanakil for all her goodness to us and said that we must go to seek permanent lodgings in the city.
Hastily she said, “My house is unassuming, I know, and you have probably been accustomed to the luxury of lonia. But if you don’t scorn my house, remain as my guests for as long as you wish. The longer you remain the happier I will be.”
To strengthen her invitation and to prove that she did not extend it in the hope of gain, she disappeared into an inner room and reappeared with gifts for each of us. Onto Dorieus’ thumb she slipped a gold ring, to Mikon she presented an ivory-framed wax tablet, and to me a moonstone suspended from a cord. The valuable gifts did much to cheer us.
Tanakil then had three beds placed in a row for us. They had copper feet and crossed iron bottoms and were made by the Tyrrhenians. On them were placed soft mattresses. We would have fallen asleep immediately had not Dorieus groaned and tossed. Finally he threw off the covers and snapped that as a soldier he was not accustomed to soft mattresses but preferred the hard ground with a shield as his cover. In the darkness he groped his way out of the room, bumping into chests and overturning objects. Then we heard no more and slept soundly through the night.
5.
So we settled in Tanakil’s house, leading a carefree existence as her guests. After our treasure had been safely locked behind the iron doors of Krinippos’ vaults life began to flow as evenly as a stream. Dionysius’ only mishap resulted from his anxiety to salvage the large vessel. Believing that its cargo had been sufficiently lightened, he tried again to drag it to shore, but so powerful were the windlasses and so strong the ropes that the ship split in the middle.
When we had dived and scraped the mud for our remaining loot we were free to do as we pleased. But before long the people of Himera demanded that Krinippos put an end to the turmoil caused by the Phocaeans.
“The Phocaeans are upsetting our days thoroughly,” they complained. “Formerly we awakened at cockcrow to practice our trades but now every house echoes with snores until midday. If we try to awaken our guests they are enraged. We are not unduly sensitive about the morals of our wives and daughters but it is annoying to see them clinging to a sailor’s beard from morning to night or fondly combing the lice from his hair. As to what happens at night, we dare not even say.”
Krinippos leaped to his feet from the simple wooden chair whose seat was woven of the skin of his unsuccessful predecessor.
“You came at an opportune time, citizens, for my amulets have warned me that danger threatens Himera and my spies in Syracuse have confirmed it. We will therefore put Dionysius’ men to work raising the city wall by three ells, to repay our hospitality. When Syracuse hears that Himera’s wall will be that much higher I hardly think that it will attack us but will choose some other city.”
Dionysius had little faith in Krinippos’ amulets but realized that, without discipline, the sailors would soon become an unruly herd. In their restlessness they were already picking quarrels with one another and even fighting, the men of one ship against those of another or the windward rowers against the leeward rowers.
Thus Dionysius concurred readily. “Your plan is excellent, Krinippos, and I assure you that my well-disciplined men will gladly labor to raise the wall of this friendly city. However, in specifying three ells, do you mean Greek or Phoenician ells?”
As a shrewd man Krinippos well understood what was meant and said admiringly, “You are a man after my own mind, Dionysius, but naturally I mean Phoenician ells. Simple courtesy toward my Carthaginian allies demands that I use the Phoenician measure.”
Dionysius tore his shirt, pulled his beard and cried out to his men, “Did you hear, all of you, how that despicable tyrant is insulting our honor as lonians? Naturally, we will raise Himera’s wall by three Greek ells and not one ringer’s width more.”
The men began to roar and the most rash among them even ran to [heir lodgings for their weapons. “A Greek ell, a Greek ell!” they howled, knowing well that a Greek ell is shorter than a Phoenician ell by three fingers.
Krinippos withdrew behind his famous seat and began bargaining with Dionysius, but he had to yield to the use of the Greek measure. Hearing that, Dionysius’ men cheered and embraced one another in glee as though they had won a great victory. In that manner Dionysius achieved their voluntary submission to an entire winter’s heavy labor. Dorieus, Mikon and I, however, did not have to participate since we had not been guilty of disturbing the peace.
We had not been many days in Tanakil’s house before the Siculian couple returned with their daughter. The girl was pale and her glance roving.
“We are ashamed to have to disturb you again,” they said, “but our daughter seems to be cursed. As soon as we reached home she became speechless again and has not been able to say a word since then. We are not blaming you, although it was peculiar how easily that Greek physician freed her tongue merely by kissing her. Let him try it again and we shall see what happens.”
Mikon protested that there was a time for everything and that it was not proper to kiss women while meditating on divine matters. Tanakil and Dorieus, however, felt that he had bound the girl to him either wittingly or unwittingly and thus was obliged to free her.