it? It's not nearly so tall, of course, but it's got the same conical shape.' 'So it does,' said Menedemos, who, up to that moment, had had no chance to worry about the mountain. 'I wonder if it's a volcano, too,' Sostratos said. 'What did Leptines say its name was?' 'I don't think he did.' Menedemos raised his voice to call out to one of the roustabouts: 'Hey! Do you speak Greek?' 'Me?' The fellow pointed to himself. 'Yes, I speak some. What do you want?' 'What's the name of that mountain north of your city here?' 'You must be from far away,' the roustabout said, 'not to know about Mount Ouesouion.' 'Ouesouion?' Menedemos echoed, trying to imitate the local's pronunciation. 'What an ugly name,' he murmured in an aside to Sostratos, who dipped his head in agreement. Menedemos gave his attention back to the Pompaian: 'We are from far away - we've sailed all the way from Rhodes.' 'Rhodes?' The roustabout had almost as much trouble with the name as Menedemos had with Ouesouion. 'Where's that at? Is it down by Taras, where so many of you Hellenes live?' 'It's farther away than that,' Menedemos answered. 'You have to cross the Ionian Sea to go from Taras to the mainland of Hellas, and then you have to cross the Aegean Sea to go from the mainland of Hellas to Rhodes.' 'Do tell,' the Pompaian said. 'I went over to Neapolis once, I did. Had to walk two days to get there and two days back.' Menedemos carefully held his face straight. Then he wondered how many people here had never gone two days' journey from their little town, if this fellow thought doing so was worth bragging about. The roustabout went on, 'So what did you bring us from this Rhodes place, wherever it's at?' Now Menedemos did smile, and launched into his sales pitch: 'Fine wine from Khios, fine silk from Kos - ' 'What's silk?' the local asked. 'I don't know that word.' 'It's a fabric, smoother and softer than linen,' Menedemos answered. 'And we have perfumes from Rhodian roses, and papyrus and ink' - not that we're likely to sell any of those here, he thought - 'and . . . peafowl.' 'What are peafowl?' the Pompaian said. 'Don't know that word, neither.' 'Sostratos . . .' Menedemos said, and Sostratos displayed one of the chicks. Menedemos gave a highly colored description of what an adult peacock looked like, ending, 'It were not too much to call him the most magnificent bird in the world.'
Вы читаете Over the Wine Dark Sea
