Zopyros concealed his feelings by a long, slow draught of wine.
During his remaining days in Messana, Zopyros had several long walks and talks with Korinna, but always with another member of the family present. On Zopyros' last night, Xanthos gave the promised feast. After the guests—a fairly dull, stuffy lot, Zopyros thought— had been fed, Korinna and her mother, heavily veiled, came out from the women's apartment. Xanthos got up and, holding a fistful of papyrus rolls in one hand and his daughter's hand in the other, said:
"I, Xanthos son of Glaukos, of Messana, do hereby state before these witnesses that an agreement has been reached between myself and this young man, Zopyros son of Megabyzos, of Taras, presently living in Syracuse, and his family, concerning his marriage to my daughter Korinna. I have here three copies of the betrothal contract, because the parties to this agreement all live in different cities. Zopyros has read the contract and compared all three copies to make sure they are identical. He has affixed his signature thereto as a token of agreement with the terms set forth therein. In this contract are stated the sum of money to be settled upon my daughter as dowry; a list of the clothes, ornaments, and other personal possessions she will bring with her; and the sum that Zopyros' father, the respectable Megabyzos, will settle upon him.
"O Zopyros, in the name of Zeus, Hera, Artemis, Apollon, Aphrodite, Demeter, and the other gods and goddesses, in token of my promise to give my daughter Korinna to you in lawful marriage, on a day of good omen to be agreed upon between us, and in accordance with the terms of this contract, I now place her hand in yours."
Zopyros took Korinna's hand and said: "O Xanthos, in the name of Zeus, Hera, Artemis, Apollon, Aphrodite, Demeter, and the other gods and goddesses, in token of my promise to enter into lawful marriage to your daughter Korinna, on a day of good omen to be agreed upon between us, and in accordance with the terms of this contract, I now take her hand from you."
The guests cheered. A tipsy guest bellowed: "Kiss her!" Xanthos frowned at the indecency. The other guests, one after another, toasted the couple before the women went back to their quarters. Drinking and speechmaking went on for hours—long after Zopyros had become bored with it—before the last guest staggered out into the street and set off for home, preceded by a servant bearing a lighted link of tarred rope.
Once again, Zopyros made his overnight stop at Catana, at the foot of the colossal mass of Aetna. Five years before, Catana had been the flourishing Greek city of Katanê. Then Dionysios had invited its people to remove to Syracuse. When they refused, he bribed their President to admit his army to the city. He then sold all the Kataneans—except the President and his kinsmen—into slavery.
The city he turned over to his mutinous Campanian mercenaries, in lieu of arrears in their pay. For the victims of this mass enslavement there would be no homecoming. No Evnos could arrange their redemption, because no men of property survived the enslavement to furnish the ransom money.
Catana still stood, but with a difference. The city wall had been allowed to crumble in places. The filthy streets were full of scarred, unwashed Campanian veterans and their slatternly women, speaking Oscan and glowering suspiciously at the stranger. Ragged children played in the filth or followed the traveler, begging.
Zopyros put up at the town's one inn, then sought the market place to buy some food so that the innkeeper could cook his dinner. A boy pimp tugged at his cloak and said something in broken Greek about a nice, clean sister.
At Xanthos' house, Zopyros had suffered an agony of thwarted lust. Now he felt desire rising again. His blood pounded in his temples. He assured himself that he loved Korinna so passionately that no other woman could interest him; but this, he found, was not quite true. None of his Pythagorean training helped him. The animal in him swept aside all barriers in its demand for plain, loveless, physical relief. When the boy tugged at his cloak again, Zopyros followed him to a small door in a one-room house in a narrow street.
The whore was a buxom, muscular, cheerful Sikelian girl who appeared to enjoy her work. When the passage was over and Zopyros was sponging himself off, she said: "You were on your way to buy food, weren't you? I can cook better than that dirty slob at the inn. If you will get enough for my brother and me, I'll cook your dinner here."
"I'll gladly do that," said Zopyros.
A few minutes later, he was back with the victuals. He sat on the single stool, watching her put copper pots on the little hearth fire. The room had few furnishings other than the stool, the bed, a chest, and a washstand. Large gaps in the plaster showed the brickwork of the house walls.
Now and then Zopyros asked his hostess a question. Since she spoke some Greek and he some Oscan—a tongue akin to Sikelian —they could understand each other with a little effort.
"My name's Ducetia," she said, scratching. "My people were farm folk at Herbessus. One day when we were working the fields for our landowner, a troop of Dionysios' soldiers came suddenly by on their way to attack our city. We had no time to run back to town. I was carrying water, apart from the others, when they caught me. Three horsemen took me into a bosk to rape me.
"Never having been with a man, I thought it would be terrible. But, although it hurt a little at first, I found that by the time the third man had finished I was beginning to enjoy it. When I asked for more, they laughed in a shamefaced way, saying they wished they could oblige. I cursed them as weaklings for bringing me almost to the verge and then disappointing me. At last, one rode out of the bosk and came back with a comrade, who gave me what I demanded.
"They hauled me along with them to sell, but I gave them the slip. After Dionysios raised the siege of Herbessus, I went back to my city. But another family had seized our house and barred the door against me. They drove me out of town with sticks and stones. My own family—I have heard no word of them since.
"I took up with a traveling peddler and tramped the roads with him for a year. I had never heard of harlotry in Herbessus and was astonished to find that men would pay me for doing that which I most enjoyed. When my peddler died of a fever near here, I settled clown to make the best of things. The boy whom I call 'brother,' is an orphan, too. I wouldn't say it was an easy life— we often go hungry—but it's far less work than swinging those big hoes in the vineyards all day."
"Do you ever worry about the future?" asked Zopyros.
"Sometimes. I suppose one of these days I shall get old, and then I shall have to marry one of these Campanian pigs and settle down. But I'll worry about that when the time comes. How did you like your dinner?"
"Fine," lied Zopyros.
She began to clear away. "How about another trick?"
"Dear Herakles, Ducetia, you drained me dry the first time! I'm no three-ball man."
"Oh, come on! A strong young gentleman like you is good for more than one a day!"
"I don't know—I was thinking of my work ..."
"Well, think of my work for a change; it's more fun! Please! I'll make it half price. I need the money for charms for the witch, to keep from getting pregnant."
She planted herself in his lap, kissed him, fondled him, and slipped her dress off one shoulder. Soon they were back on the bed. As he settled in, she gave a gusty sigh of content.
"That's how I like my men! Snorting and pawing, like big black bulls!"
Zopyros walked back to the inn with mixed feelings. On one hand he felt a certain pride in his powers. On the other, although he had done nothing that any Hellene would consider wrong, he was a little disgusted with himself. He had a vague feeling that he ought to have been true to Korinna, even though they were not yet wed. Moreover, he had failed the Pythagorean ethical standards. The divine Pythagoras would have excused venery in moderation —"no more than is necessary to a single man," he had said—but Zopyros had not been moderate.