Over the Wine Dark Sea

around a corner as fast as he could go, he heard Phyllis answer, 'I think it was just a dog, O husband of mine.'   'Pretty big for a dog. Pretty clumsy for a dog, too,' Gylippos said dubiously. He must have looked out the window, for a moment later he continued, 'I don't see any dog. But I don't see any burglar, either, so I suppose it's all right.' Maybe he turned away from the window and back toward his wife -  his voice was harder for Menedemos to hear when he went on, 'Come here.'   'I obey,' Phyllis said, as demurely as if no other thought had ever entered her mind, no other man had ever entered her body.   Gylippos didn't get what he wanted from a flutegirl or a dancer tonight, so he'll take take what he can get from his wife, Menedemos thought as he wriggled back into his chiton. He hadn't quite got everything he wanted from Phyllis himself. Inconsiderate of Gylippos, went through his mind. Why couldn't he have waited just a little longer to pick a fight with his brother?   He took his bearings. Gylippos' house lay in the central part of Taras, the part where a neat grid of streets superseded the jumble of lanes and alleys going every which way marking the rest of the town. That made things easier. As soon as Menedemos figured out which way was west, he started counting corners. His ankle hurt when he put weight on it, but it bore him.   He had one bad moment: three or four burly men, plainly bent on no good, padded up a north-south street just before he crossed it. But he'd stayed in the shadows and done his best to move quietly. They kept on going without so much as turning their heads his way. He let out a silent sigh of relief, waited till he was sure they'd passed, and headed on toward the rented house.   When he knocked on the door, he expected Aristeidas to be the one who made sure he was himself and not a robber too clever for his own good. But instead, he heard his cousin's voice: 'Is that you, Menedemos?'   'Almonds!' Menedemos quavered in a high, thin falsetto. 'Who wants to buy my salted almonds?'   Sostratos opened the door. 'If I wanted almonds, I'd buy them in the shell and crack them on your hard head,' he said. 'You're back sooner than I thought you would be. No all-night debauch?'   'Afraid not,' Menedemos said as he came in. Sostratos closed the door behind him. He went on, 'I had a good time. You don't need to worry about that.' He still wished Gylippos had waited a bit longer before coming home from his brother's, but leaping out of the window, landing badly, and having to limp away made not quite finishing his second round seem much less urgent than it had a little while before.   Altogether too observant for his own good, Sostratos noticed the limp even by the weak light of the single torch burning in the courtyard. 'What happened to you?' he demanded. 'Does Gylippos know who you are?'   'No, he doesn't,' Menedemos answered. 'He's not even sure I'm anybody, if you know what I mean. He got into a fight at his symposion, and left in a huff. That's why I had to go out the window.'   'You're lucky you didn't break your leg, or maybe your neck,' Sostratos said. 'Is a woman really worth running that kind of risk?'   'If I hadn't thought so, I wouldn't have gone there, would I?' Menedemos said, a little