At last I arrived in Athens. As was the custom, I removed my armor at the city gates, put on a white mantle and a wreath on my head, and went on foot into the city, accompanied only by my Greek guide. I sent the soldiers on leave to Piraeus where they could amuse themselves under the protection of the Roman garrison at the port.
It is true, as I had been told before, that one can see more idols than people in Athens. There are fine buildings erected by eastern kings and, at the forum, philosophers walk about with their pupils from morning to night. In every alleyway there is a souvenir shop selling mostly cheap articles, but also expensive small copies of the temples and idols.
After paying the official visit of greeting to the City Hall and the Areopagus council, I went to the best inn and met there several young men from Rome who were finishing their education in Athens before beginning in office. Some of them praised their teachers, others listed famous Hetaira names and their prices, and eating places where I needs must go.
I was plagued by guides who wanted to show me the sights of Athens, but after walking around the marketplace for a few days and listening to different teachers, I became known and was left in peace. As far as I could make out, all the philosophers in Athens were competing with one another at teaching the art of acquiring peace of mind. They spoke with fire and wit, using striking metaphors, and liked disputing among themselves.
Among them were one or two long-haired philosophers in goat-skin clothes. These itinerant teachers boasted of having traveled in India or Ethiopia and studying secret wisdoms. They told such impossible lies about their journeys that they made their listeners double up with laughter. Some of the coarsest of them have been banished by the Areopagus council, but in general anyone could stand there and talk about anything as long as he did not insult the gods or become involved in politics.
I ate and drank and tried to enjoy my life. It was pleasant to sit in the sun on a warm marble bench after a good meal and watch the changing shadows of the passers-by on the marketplace’s marble paving-stones. Attic anecdotes are undeniably sharp. In a dispute, the one who has the laughs on his side always wins, but this Attic laughter seemed to me joyless and the thoughts behind it did not penetrate deeply into my mind
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as they ought to have done if they had been true wisdom. It seemed to me that what was being learned in Athens these days was a refined way of life to counteract the Roman coarseness, rather than genuine philosophy.
From sheer defiance, I thought I would stay and study in Athens until Proconsul Gallio sent for me to return to Corinth. But the books in the libraries did not captivate me, such was my state of mind, nor did I find a teacher whose pupil I wished to be. Day after day I became more despondent, feeling a complete stranger in Athens. Occasionally I ate and drank with young Romans simply to be able to speak crystal clear Latin instead of the babbling Greek.
Once I went with them to one of the famous Hetairas and listened to the flute music and watched the displays of dancing and acrobatics. I believed our smiling hostess when she said she could raise sensuality to a fine art. But she did not touch me and no one visiting her was forced to study the arts of the senses with the help of her trained slaves. She herself preferred to converse rather than go to bed with her guests. She demantled such an enormous sum that only the richest debauched old men could pay it. So she was so rich that she did not wish to tempt us young Romans to waste our money unnecessarily.
“Perhaps my school is only for those who are already decrepit,” she said to me in the end, “though I’m proud of my art. You are young. You know what hunger and thirst are. Resinous wine and poor man’s bread taste better in your hungry mouth than Cypriot wine and flamingo tongues in a mouth that is weary. If you fall in love with a young maiden, the sight of a bare shoulder alone would dazzle your senses more than fulfillment of your desire. Smooth out that frown and be glad of your life, because you are still young.”
‘Would you rather tell me about the divine secrets?” I suggested. “You serve Aphrodite with your art?”
She looked thoughtfully at me with her beautifully darkened eyes. “Aphrodite is a capricious and merciless but also wonderful goddess,”
she said. “He who strives for her favors most eagerly and sacrifices most to her, remains unsatisfied forever. She was born from the foam of the sea and is herself like the foam which bubbles and bursts. She herself dissolves into air when anyone avariciously grasps at her faultless limbs.”
She too frowned a little as she raised both her hands and absently stared at her scarlet nails.
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