Over the Wine Dark Sea

  To Sostratos' way of thinking, a barbarian coming into a Hellenic city should have wanted to make himself look as much like a Hellene as he could. He gave his own name, and clasped the Italian's hand. Then he stroked his beard in thought. If this Samnite with the cumbersome name was important, he might well be rich. And if he was rich . . . 'Sir, as I've been saying all through the agora, among the things my cousin and I have brought from the east are fine Khian wine -  Ariousian, in fact; the best of the best -  and several peafowl. I am sure no Samnite today is lucky enough to own a peacock. In fact, the birds we brought are the first of their kind in Great Hellas.' He wasn't absolutely sure that was true, but he thought so -  and no one in Taras seemed to have seen one before.   'I know something of good wine,' Herennius Egnatius said. 'But what sort of a bird is a peacock?' He pronounced the unfamiliar name with care. 'If I have one of these birds, will it show I am a man not of the common sort?'   'That it will, O best one -  it will indeed.' Sostratos coughed delicately. 'Because these birds are rare, you will understand that we do not sell them for a few oboloi.'   'Of course,' the Samnite said. 'One of the marks of a man's distinction is what he can afford. Is your ship in the harbor on the Little Sea?'   'Yes, but Menedemos -  my cousin -  and I have taken a house here in Taras, the better to show off the peafowl to men who might want to buy them,' Sostratos said.   Herennius Egnatius drew himself up very straight. He was at least a palm shorter than Sostratos, but, like Menedemos, acted as if he were taller. 'Take me there,' he said. 'My toga made you curious. Your . . . peafowl do the same for me.'   Sostratos thought about going through the agora for a while longer, but then wondered why. He'd been trying to drum up customers, and here he . . . might have one. Worth finding out, he decided and dipped his head to the Samnite. 'Come with me.'   Aristeidas looked surprised when he knocked on the door to the rented house. 'I didn't expect you back so soon, sir,' he said.   'This foreign gentleman'  - Sostratos nodded to Herennius Egnatius -  'is interested in peafowl.'   Just then, the peacock started screaming. Herennius Egnatius' eyes widened. 'What is that appalling racket?' he asked.   'Those are the noises peafowl make.' Sostratos wished he hadn't had to admit it quite so soon. He also wished Menedemos hadn't chosen that precise moment to shout, 'Oh, shut up, you miserable, polluted thing!'   Herennius Egnatius smiled a thin smile. As the funny man at the harbor had, he said, 'I take it you do not sell them for the beauty of their song?'   'Well . . . no.' Again, Sostratos admitted what he could hardly deny. He tried to rally: 'Come with me to the courtyard, and you'll see why we do sell them.'   He led the Italian through the entry hall and into the rather cramped courtyard at the center of the house. There stood Menedemos, hands on hips, glowering at the peacock. Maybe he'd dozed off and it had wakened him. And there stood the peacock