Mimes of the Courtesans, by Lucian: There is a Time for Lying

LEONTICHOS, an affectionate soldier

CHENIDAS, his comrade-in-arms

HYMNIS, an innocent young courtesan

THERE IS A TIME FOR LYING

And what about the battle with the Galateans, Chenidas? Do you remember how I rode my white charger ahead of all our horsemen and how the Galateans, who are pretty brave fellows at that, trembled as soon as they saw me, so that not a warrior among them dared to face me. And then, throwing my javelin, I pierced their hipparchos and his mount. As for those that reassembled--for after their phalanx was broken, some Galateans reorganized as a square--I attacked them sword in hand. The sudden burst forward of my faithful steed knocked over the first seven. With a swing of my blade I hacked in halves the head of their chief. Our men then came up, but the enemy was already in flight.

And do you recall Paphlagonia, Leontichos? You did grand work in that country too. Do you remember

Thanks for reminding me of the event. The Satrap, you know, had the build of a giant. He was reputed to be an extraordinary swordsman, and held us Greeks in contempt. Now one afternoon he rode forward between the two armies and shouted: "Who wants to brave a fight with me?"

Fright seized our men. The lochages, the taxiarchs, and even our hegemon, who is far from cowardly (it was Aristachmos the Aitolian who commanded us then; he is handy with the javelin), all were rather nervous about the challenge. At that time I wasn't even a chiliarch. But in a spontaneous fit of recklessness, pushing away those among my friends who tried to hold me back (for they had their doubts as to my safety, the barbarian Hercules seemed so formidable in his gilded armor, as he stood before our army shaking his huge plumed head and brandishing his enormous javelin), I----- I------

I confess that I myself was among those who were worried about your safety, Leontichos. You remember how I tried to detain you, pleading with my beloved Leontichos not to sacrifice himself for our sake. Many

of our Greeks would have found life unbearable without the comradeship of the brave Leontichos.

But I, in a reckless burst to the fore, I advanced towards the haughty enemy. I was as well armed as the Paphlagonian; I, too, was harnessed in gold. Upon my appearance in view of all, a cry arose from both armies, for I was recognized, especially by my shield, my martial ornaments and helmet plume. Let us hear a word, Chenidas! Tell us now, whom did everybody compare me with?

By Dzeus, whom could we have compared you with at that moment, if not to Achilles, the son of Thetis and Peleus? How well your helmet suited you! And the purple of your cloak shone like--my, I can't think of what! Your shield made bolts of lightning in the air.

And when we met--well, the barbarian was the first to draw blood. Oh! he scratched me a bit, below the knee, you know. But I--one well aimed blow and my reliable sarissee tore thru his heavy shield and wounded him in the chest. He fell at my feet, more from surprise than weakness. Then I stood on his body for a

while. There was only one thing to do. Drawing my sword, I cut off the Satrap's head. Well, I gathered his collection of arms and returned to our side with the giant's head stuck on the spike of my sarissee. Blood from the dissevered head dripped on my own. You can imagine the applause that greeted me upon my return.

Ah, go away, you sickening Leontichos! What disgusting stories you tell!;: Who could look at you, least of all applaud you, after that bloody mess? Do you believe I could force myself to sleep with you after your tales of killing and blood? I am going away.

Don't be afraid of me, Hymnis. All that happened in the country of the Paphlagonians. I am at peace right now.

No, I don't want you. You are an abominable man. From the barbarian's head stuck on your sarissee

blood dripped down on your own head. And you expect me to take an odious man like you in my arms and kiss you! By the Charites, never, never will I kiss you! A man like you is no better than an executioner.

Ah, if you could see me in arms! I am sure you would fall in love with Leontichos.

Why, only hearing your cruel tales is enough to make me feel sick at heart and hate you. I imagine seeing shadows about us; these must be the phantoms of your victims. Surely the poor chief whose head you had split in two is among them. And how I would feel if I saw the fight and the blood and the corpses stretched in the mud! I believe I'd die. I could never bear to see the smallest animal killed.

What a dear little coward you are, Hymnis! I thought you would find my story amusing.

Go and tell such stories to the Lemnians or the fifty daughters of Danais, if you find any. They will find them amusing. I will sleep in my mother's house tonight. Follow me, Grammis. Take good care of

yourself this night, valiant chiliarch! And do not kill too many! (She leaves.)

It is your own fault, Leontichos. You have scared the child with your cock-and-bull stories. I saw her turn yellow when you started your tale about the captain. And her eyes stood out and she shivered when you described how you cut off the Satrap's head.

I thought she'd like me the more. But it was you who lost me altogether by putting in my head the idea of the duel.

I wanted to help you. But it was you, yourself, who made the story too horrible for the girl's tastes. You could have had your dirty Paphlagonian head without having it stuck on the end of a sarissee and without smearing yourself with the Satrap's blood.

It is true. My story was a bit too strong for the likes of Hymnis. The rest, however, wasn't so badly imagined. Won't you help an old comrade in trouble,

[paragraph continues] Chenidas? Please run after her. Persuade her to go to bed with me after all.

I'll tell her that you have invented those war stories in order to appear brave in her eyes.

Otherwise, I am sure, she will not return. I am afraid, my friend, that you must choose either to pass for a brave man and be hated, or to confess that you have lied beautifully and sleep tonight with pretty Hymnis. And by Aphrodite and Uranian, she is worth the shame of confession! The girl has a body like the dream of a well-fed soldier. Little, hard breasts like apples! Soft, resilient thighs that could unman the most gigantic of Satraps! And those dimples! Ah, Mother of Heaven, those dimples! The girl told you, Leontichos, before you started on your stories, of course, that she had a third dimple that was much more attractive. A third dimple! Ah, a third dimple! Oh, comrade, I know you will either humble yourself this evening or pass a sleepless night. I, myself, am to see Ampelis, who is, to all appearances, twice the age of

You are right. I must choose. But either alternative is hard on a fellow. However, my hand is for the sword. I prefer Hymnis. Run, therefore, Chenidas, and tell her that Leontichos has lied a little. Yes, tell her I have lied--but not altogether.