Thisbe's Diary

Truth and Freedom: Story Of My Life 1

I watched my mistress as she eyed master Knemon. Hymns could still be heard from the streets, and the festival of the Great Panathenaia was just concluding. Today marked the coming of age for the young master, and my mistress made no attempts to hide her unnatural desire for her stepson. Fortunately, master Aristippos was dining in the Council Hall and was unaware of his wife's unsuccessful seduction of his son. I knew my mistress was quite disappointed by master Knemon's rejection, as I had felt the sting of her palm as she released her frustration out on me. I attempted to make myself distance from my mistress whenever the young master was involved, but not two days had passed before I was summoned to her room. 2

Earlier that afternoon, I had heard flesh being soundly whipped, but it was not until dinner was I aware of the gossip spreading through the table. The slave who had flogged master Knemon was terrified of the young master's wrath, but I knew that it was Demainete's anger that he should be aware of. My mistress had been bemoaning the torture of her love, never mind that it was her lie that caused the marks on his skin. It was late when my mistress called for me. Imagine my surprise when she told me of my newest task! It was a task that I was capable of for sure, but while I had confidence in my art of seduction, I was unwilling to see the ruin of the poor boy. It was well known that a slave had no love for his master, and my mistress was a very difficult woman to love. Still, I was aware of the differences in our social standing and could only nod my head in obedience to her command. In my every movement I acted the part of an infatuated girl, and like an idiot, master Knemon fell for my advances. I would have though that he would have known that a woman does not reject a preposition one day only to encourage it the next, but unfortunately the master was merely a boy and had not yet become familiar with a woman's art. I came to him one night, and he quickly ushered me in, closing the door quietly behind him for he was afraid of my mistress finding out about our affair. If only he knew that it was his stepmother who had ordered me to his bedchamber! 3

When the time was right, when I was certain I had his faith, I laid down the trap that my mistress had ordered. I carefully chose my words, “...I shall deliver her lover to you in the act,” and hearing his quick agreement, I added, “...every day I suffer to the limits of endurance because of an unfounded jealousy [your stepmother] nurses against me. Be sure not to let me down” (Reardon 362). As I expected, he was eager to confront his stepmother's lover, and for a moment I was captured by his innocence and naiveté. Even as I led the way, my steps were hesitant, and I scolded myself for my weakness. I reminded myself of my station and resolved to harden my heart, and it was too late anyhow as we had reached the room. I strayed away from the door and quickly left the scene. Behind me, I heard the sound of the sword hitting the floor, and my hands clenched tightly as I ignored too the thundering of my heartbeat. 4

I stayed near the back, carefully keeping an eye out for my mistress while I stood on tiptoe in hope to catch a sight of him. The assembly was crowded and nearby a group of slaves from another family crane their necks in hope to see the man on trail. My heart ached for master Knemon as I caught sight of him. He was in chains and it was apparent from his appearance that he was locked up last night. The assembly suddenly let out a cry of outrage, and I groaned in frustration as I could not hear a word that was being said. Through the voice of the crowd, Knemon cried, “My stepmother is destroying me without a trail!” (Reardon 363) I held my breathe as I hope for the assembly to listen to his explanation, but it was to no avail. A vote was counted and a thousand wished to condemn him to exile. My own cry of denial was lost in the crowd, and although I tried to reach him after the verdict, my mistress had caught sight of me, and I was unable to even give a proper farewell. Luckily for me, she was too upset by the lost of Knemon to question my presence at the trial. I was quite alarmed when I saw tears rolling down my mistress' cheeks, and I knew better than her lady friends the real reason for her pain. How contradictory my mistress was! 5

It became apparent that I was in danger when I overheard my mistress' accusation..Although at first I was furious to be blamed for her own undoing, I resolved to “secure [my] own safety” first (Reardon 365). The following day I strove to appease my mistress by blaming it on Chance and pretended to be more meek and obedient than ever. As I listened unwillingly to her piteous cries, an idea struck me, and I waited for the right opportunity. After my mistress had exhausted herself by her complaint, she turned to me for answers, and at that moment, with my heart daring me to be so bold, I told her of Arsinoe. I asked for one day to complete my plan, and naturally my mistress agreed. It was easy enough to deceive Arsinoe, a courtesan whose skills were half as fair as mine and whose appearance was half as pleasing. I spun a tale for her, and being the gullible creature that she was, she fell for it. Then with courage in my steps, I hurried to Aristippos. To my delight, after my confession and my promise to reveal Demainete's adulterous nature, my master agreed to reward me with my freedom if I was successful with my plan. 6

I hurried back to my mistress and told her what she wanted to hear. Night was approaching, and I worked hard to maintain a calm composure as I led my mistress onto the bed. Retracting a promise of silence from my mistress, I removed the lamp without arousing her suspicion. I then headed toward the Monument of the Epicureans, and as I had hoped, master Aristippos was waiting impatiently. I smiled in the darkness as we rushed back to my mistress, relishing in the power of control. 7

I slammed the door loudly the moment my master cried, “You are caught, damn you!” (Reardon 368). Pretending to hear Demainete's lover escaping, I grinned as my master seized his wife and proclaimed his satisfaction with her capture. I trailed behind as he led her toward the city, careful to stay out of Demainete's sight. Just as we reached the Pit in the Akademia, Demainete, with a sudden burst of strength, escaped her husband's hands and without any warning, plunged into the Pit. I casted an uncertain gaze at my master as he watched the blood of his wife spilling from her head. I was quite unsettled by the uninterested look on his face, and I wondered if he would uphold his promise to me. 8

The next morning I searched for my master, having spent all night rehearsing my speech, I had finally gathered the nerve to remind him of my freedom. Unfortunately, he was gone, and as I wandered frustratingly into the garden, I overheard a few servants inquiring of my master's presence. I frowned as I listened to their conversation. It seemed that the master had been pardoned for his wife's death and was now desperately trying to secure the peoples' consent for his son's return. I angrily returned to my room, and while I paced back and forth I came to realize my position. Striking a few notes on my lyre, I thought carefully of my current situation. I had not forgotten the look on my master's face when he witnessed my previous mistress' death, and I decided that a man who would flog and banish his own son would not care much for a promise he made to his slave. I scolded myself for my naiveté; in my eagerness for freedom, I had forgotten the fundamental rule. All masters were liars, yet my heart chided me for my prejudice. Knemon was not, he was sincere in his love for me, and I was such a fool to betray him. I looked at my beloved lyre, one of the few possessions I cherished. Perhaps all was not lost; Aristippos was busy and with the recent death of Demainete, therefore I had plenty of time on my hands. There was a new inn that just opened, and I remembered hearing Arsinoe working there. I made up my mind, even if Knemon could return, he would no longer want me, and if I was lucky, I would be able to buy my freedom before I had to see him again. 9

I poured Nausikles another glass of wine, pasting on a smile for him. I was dressed in the finest robe, a present from my lover, and was the envy of the room. Setting my lyre on its side, I listened absentmindedly to the laughter ringing across the room. A courtesan across from me was dangling a grape above her suitor and another was smiling slyly at Nausikles' drunken friend. I sat comfortably on the pillow and casted a meek look at my lover. Nausikles smiled coyly and stood up. His friends gave a cheer and some suggestive remarks as I walked with him out the door. Passing by the courtyard, we were surprised to encounter Arsinoe. My lover casted an uninterested look at his previous mistress as Arsinoe mumbled a greeting. I failed to prevent the look of disdain from crossing my face as I took in her stained robe and bloodshot eyes, and I pitied the woman who had fallen so far from the social ladder. She bristled angrily and brushed against me lightly as she hurried away. Later that night as I laid awake next to Nausikles, I shivered as I remembered the hatred in my ex-friend's eyes. Thunder rumbled outside and rain began to pelt against the windowpanes, while I laid uneasily besides Nausikles, unable to fall back to sleep. 10

I woke gasping for air and quickly gulped down some water that I had taken to place besides me for the last few nights. I gave a silent prayer to Morpheus as I climbed out of bed, for I doubted it was natural to dream of being stabbed to death. Grabbing a comb, I contemplated my nightly visions. I died from a sword wound after seeing Knemon, and while the images were blurry I logically connected the two messages. It would seemed that I was to be killed by my previous lover's hands. Sliding the comb through my hair, I thought of the warning I received a few nights prior. It was not surprising that Arsinoe had allowed jealousy to consume her and had told Demainete's family of my part in her death. It was also not surprising that Aristippos had promised me to them. Luckily I had accepted Nausikles' proposal a few days ago. By eloping with Nausikles I would avoid Demainete's family and escape death at Knemon's hands. Looking at my reflection, I smiled with satisfaction, everything was going according to plan.11

My stomach jumped as the ship rocked back and forth. I held my lyre tightly against me as I breathed in and out deeply. Nausikles was speaking with the captain, and one did not need to understand seafare to recognize the signs of a storm approaching. Already the sky was turning a dark gray and a flash of lighting had appeared not five minutes ago. I sighed with relief when land was spotted, but as I looked at the deserted beach, I felt a pain of longing for Athens. I was alone in an unknown land. 12

“...Take her to the king of Ethiopia to be his wife's confidante,” was Nausikles' answer to the captain's question. I looked down quickly, hoping that Nausikles had not noticed my sudden uneasiness (Reardon 397). The captain was still looking my way, a lecherousness sneer on his face, and I realized that he had asked for my price. Inside, I fumed angrily at this new revelation. For a while, I had doubted Nausikles' sincerity; a merchant's heart could only be bought. Blinking my eyes rapidly, I told myself not to cry; tears were useless to a slave. My sandals sunk into the sand, and I clumsily took another step. Nausikles' hands grasped mine as he helped me toward dryer land, and I succeeded in not twisting away. I could trust no one. 13

Suddenly the earth began to shake. The stench of horses and men overwhelmed me, and as I stood behind Nausikles, I witnessed a massacre before my eyes. At some point in the battle I had stopped screaming, my throat numbed and my body exhausted by today's adventure. I held on to the broken pieces of my lyre, the last remainder of my past. The battle was finally ending, and I looked around for Nausikles. The ship that had bought us here had long left, escaping at the first sign of battle, and the few men that had accompany Nausikles and I to Egypt were still twitching on the battlefield. The sand bled red like the sunset in the sky, and for one delirious moment, I remembered the pomegranate I had eaten for breakfast. The blood that covered my feet was pomegranate red, and the last thing I saw before I fainted was a pair of red hands. 14

When I woke up it was late afternoon, I was on a pallet bed in a small hut. I scrambled to my feet and I was relieved to find myself fully clothed. My stomach rumbled and I was reminded of my hunger. Noticing a bowl of water on a table, I hastily refreshed myself. Hearing noises outside, I dared to sneak a peek. Bandits, I concluded as I observed the tribal community. I watched wearily as an old woman approached me, and I hurried out of the way as she entered the dwelling. My eyes looked longingly at the food she held in her hands. She said something, but I did not understand her. I asked her where I was, but she only shrugged and pointed at the food and then at me. I almost cried with despair. I was a foreigner here—I could no more understood them than they could understand Greek. 15

To be cautious, I watched the woman eat something first before I ate anything. Just as I was relaxing, a large man with unkempt hair entered. Breaking into a smile, he rushed toward me, and although at first I was too surprised to protest, I began to struggle with increase fervor as the beast seize to lay kisses on my mouth. I let out a cry of pain as I found myself on the floor with one hand pressed against my cheek. I cried out in alarm when the beast raised his hand again. The old woman who had dinned with me said something, and in the sentences that followed I realized that the beast was named Thermouthis. Although it was clear that Thermouthis was a man of high position, he also held the woman in some esteem. Rolling his eyes and pointing his fingers at me, Thermouthis added a few more words before departing. 16

In the following days, I became accustomed to my new role. I was not permitted to leave the hut that I shared with the old woman, and I was to submit to Thermouthis' touch, something I had realize after my first encounter with his wrath. In essence, I was the captain's right-hand man's property, and I was to behave as such. Thermouthis was busy during the day, but he would occasionally come to check on me. Usually he called for my service late at night when his comrades were asleep and then the old woman would give me a pitying look before leading me to my new master. My fingers itched for a lyre, and I bitterly wondered about Nausikles. I briefly contemplated suicide; surely death was better than this boredom and loneliness!17

I had been on the island for ten days. Yesterday I had dared to take a step outside the hut when my female companion had left for nourishment, and imagine my astonishment when I saw Knemon walked past my hut! Just as I was about to call out for him, I saw Thermouthis returning and I hurried back inside. The image of him refused to leave my head, and as soon I was able to, I began to write a tablet. Earlier that afternoon, through hand gestures and small pictures, I was able to give instruction to the old woman. The wax had just finished drying when I heard someone entered the dwelling. Hearing the angry voice of Thermouthis, I frantically placed the tablet inside my robe where it rested uncomfortably on my breast. I briefly wondered about the whereabout of the woman, before I was seized to my feet and tagged along. I cried in alarm and tried to move away, but a quick slap and a sharp retort rendered me passive. Immediately I noticed something was wrong. Chaos was rampant as screams and the sound of swords clashed in the air. I blindly held on to Thermouthis as I was rushed away from the burning island. 18

Thermouthis was speaking again, and while I did not understand him, I judged from his crazed eyes and pale parlor that something was wrong. I could still hear babies screaming and feel the heat from the inferno. I jumped slightly as Thermouthis laid heavy hands on my shoulders, and I did not resist as he stole one last kiss from me before he sealed me into a cave and left. I yelled out loud, scared by this turn of events, and suddenly I was crying. For the first time since I could remember, tears ran unashamedly. I dared not move for I knew I was close by the entrance, and although it was ridiculous, I suddenly remembered the dream I had weeks ago. Was this where I died? I took out the tablet from my robe and tucked it under my arm. I waited for Knemon to appear, and oddly enough, I was looking forward to the confrontation. Perhaps slaves could only experience freedom in death.19

It was not long before I heard a man's voice. “Knemon? Is that you?” It was dark, and the large cavern echoed with our entwining voices. The footsteps were coming closer, and I smiled in the darkness. Suddenly I gasped, for I had felt the sting of steel close to my bosom. Crying aloud from the pain, I collapsed to the ground. “I loved you, Knemon,” I whispered even as his footsteps faded away, and happy with the one truthful confession I made in my life, I closed my eyes and embraced freedom. 20