'Of course, not being able to afford strife doesn't mean one can't have it. I can think of - ' The Krotonite cut short what would have turned into a historical lecture by pointing down toward Sostratos' feet and asking, 'What's that funny-looking little bird there? Some kind of partridge? How much you want for it? I bet it'd be tasty, stewed up nice with leeks and cheese.' 'It's a peafowl chick,' Sostratos answered. 'You can have it for a mina and a half.' As the birds grew bigger, so did the asking price. 'A drakhma and a half, you say? That's not so . . .. ' The Krotonite's voice trailed off as he realized what Sostratos had really said. His jaw dropped. His eyes bugged out. 'You people are madder than Dionysos made Pentheus,' he declared, and stalked off up the pier toward dry land with his nose in the air. 'I frightened him off,' Sostratos said. 'Maybe, maybe not,' Menedemos answered. 'Look how he's talking to that other fellow and pointing back towards us. Word will get around. If there are any Krotonites with more money than sense, we'll do all right.' 'Always some of those people,' Sostratos said. 'They just have to decide we're what they want.' To Menedemos' disappointment, no rich merchants or farmers came out to the Aphrodite before sunset. Only a few sailors went into town to drink themselves under the table or find the closest brothel. Most of the men had spent all their silver in the long stay at Taras, and seemed happy enough to stay close to the akatos: Sostratos came up onto the poop deck to spread out his himation. Catching Menedemos' eye, he glanced toward the jumble of buildings that made up Kroton and opened his mouth to speak. Menedemos cut him off: 'Don't even start. I don't know anyone's wife here, and I'm not trying to meet anyone's wife here, either.' 'I didn't say a thing.' Sostratos sounded innocent, but not quite innocent enough. He lay down on the himation, rolled himself up in it to hold mosquitoes at bay, and kept right on not saying a thing. Menedemos approved of that. He listened to his cousin start to snore. After a little while, he stopped hearing Sostratos, which presumably meant he was doing some snoring of his own. He jerked awake before sunrise when someone with a loud, harsh voice demanded, 'Are those really peacock chicks you're selling?' 'Uh . . . yes,' Menedemos said around a yawn. He untangled himself from his mantle and stood up, careless of his nakedness - Hellenes fretted much less about bare skin than most people. 'Who are you?' 'I'm Hipparinos,' the Krotonite answered, as if Menedemos ought to know who Hipparinos was. 'Let me see these birds. If I like 'em, I'll buy a couple. A mina apiece, I hear you want.' 'A mina and a half,' Menedemos said. Hipparinos bellowed in outrage either real or faked as artfully as a fancy courtesan counterfeited the peak of pleasure. Menedemos went forward and got out a couple of chicks.
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