The diskos was a flat circle of polished bronze or other metal.[403] The specimen in the British Museum is between 8 and 9 inches in diameter, and is inscribed with athletic pictures on either side. It was flung with either hand. A great many attitudes were necessary before the diskos was launched, and every muscle of the body must have been well exercised in the process. The time was given, in the palaistra, by a flute-player. In competitions both the distance and the direction of the throw were taken into consideration.
Boys learnt to throw the javelin and spear by practising with long unpointed rods, which were also used for a variety of physical exercises. The mark seems to have been a sort of croquet-hoop or pair of compasses, fixed into the ground: other targets were also employed.[404] The vases which represent this pursuit often show the paidotribes carrying this hoop or fixing it into the ground. It was planted at a fixed distance which was stepped out.
It may be mentioned, before we leave the “paidotribes,” that his fee for his whole course seems to have been a μνᾶ, about £4:[405] this enabled the pupil to attend his lectures “for ever,” that is, perhaps till the course was finished. Or perhaps this sum made a pupil a life-member of a particular private palaistra.
Let us now look into one of the gymnasia at Athens, the Akademeia or Lukeion. We will suppose that it is late in the afternoon, for this was a favourite time for taking exercise: the Athenians liked to get a good appetite for their evening meal. Outside, a troop of young men who intend to be enrolled in the State-cavalry are practising their evolutions, mounting, in the absence of stirrups, by a leaping-pole, and charging in squadrons. On another side a body of heavy infantry with spear and shield are assembling for a night march into the Megarid;[406] they are packing their supplies, onions and dried fish, perhaps, into their knapsacks as they fall in, and are grumbling at having to leave Athens just when a festival is coming; a burly countryman is complaining to his general that it is not his turn to serve, as he took part in the raid into Boiotia last week, and his general is threatening him with a prosecution for insubordination if he becomes abusive. After paying our respects to the patron deities, Herakles and Hermes and Eros,[407] and having muttered a curse on all tyrants suggested by the statue of Eros which Charmos the father-in-law of Hippias the Peisistratid set up,[408] we enter the gymnasium.
The first room which we come to is the undressing-room.[409] On the benches round the walls a row of men are sitting discussing the exact nature of Self-control: an extremely ugly person, to whom they all pay great respect, is stating that it is an exact science, and, if only they can discover this science, the whole world will become virtuous. Lads and men are stripping all about the room, and passing off to take their exercises elsewhere; others keep coming in and dressing and listening to the discussion for a minute or two. A handsome young fellow comes in: the ugly man makes room for him with great energy, and his friends who are sitting at the end of the bench are pushed off suddenly on to the floor. A shout of laughter, mingled with some strong Attic abuse, arises. Not wishing to be involved as witnesses in an interminable lawsuit, we hurry out through the further door into a great cloister.[410] In the centre of this is a large open space, with no roof. Here we meet a well-known mathematician from Kurene,[411] who is walking round the cloister with a crowd of pupils: he is explaining to them that famous theorem about right-angled triangles, whose proof is so neat that Pythagoras the vegetarian sacrificed a hundred oxen when he discovered it. At intervals the mathematician stops and draws a diagram in the dust with his stick. As we follow him, we can look into the rooms which surround the cloister. In one, a crowd of men are anointing themselves with oil.[412] The rubbing, which is so good for all bodily ills, and the oil, even if not followed by any further exercise, are regarded as an excellent thing. An Athenian gentleman is expected to carry about a certain fragrance of this oil,[413] and his skin must always be sleek with it; but as a rule the anointing is a prelude to exercise, and is meant to make the joints supple and the body slippery enough to elude a wrestler’s grip.[414] A slave or an attendant stands by many of the men, holding one of those dainty oil-flasks which make so great a feature in modern Museums of Archæology. Through the next door we see the “dusting-room.” Various sorts of dust were used for rubbing the body. They served to clean it of sweat after exercise, to open the pores, to warm it when cold, and to soften the skin. A yellow dust was particularly popular; for it made the body glisten so as to be pleasant to look at, as a good body in good condition ought to be.[415] Next perhaps will be the bathing-room—a popular place in the evening, for it was usual to take a bath before dinner.[416] The bathers either splash themselves out of great bowls which stand upon pedestals, or receive a shower bath by getting a companion or an attendant to pour a pitcher of water over them. Tanks capable of receiving the whole body at once were not usual, though known to Homer.[417] Then we see the room of the korukos, or punch-ball, which will present a very curious appearance.[418] The korukos is a large sack hanging from the ceiling by a rope. The lighter korukoi are filled with fig seeds or meal, the heavier with sand. They hang at about the height of a man’s waist. You push one of them gently at first, and more and more violently as you gain experience; having pushed it, you plant yourself in the way of the rebound, and try to stop the sack with your hands or your chest or your back or your head. If you are not strong enough, you will be knocked over, and the room will laugh. This will practise you in standing steady, and make all parts of your body firm and muscular. The korukos can also be used as a punch-ball, to strengthen the boxer’s arms and shoulders. This exercise is especially recommended for boxers and pankratiasts: the latter ought to use the heavier variety. Perhaps there will also be some lay-figures hanging up round the walls, for these also were used for practising. Here, too, some unlucky individuals who, from unpopularity or other causes, are unable to find an antagonist, will be exercising their fists on thin air. But both these expedients were regarded as ridiculous.[419]
There were a large number of other rooms round the cloister, some intended for exercises in wet weather, for, if possible, exercise was always taken out of doors; for it was regarded as a great object to make the skin brown and hard by exposure to the sun. So King Agesilaos put his Asiatic captives up for sale in his camp naked, in order that his Hellenic soldiers, seeing their pale, soft flesh, unused to exposure, might despise their enemy. But as most of these rooms were furnished with seats, they were largely used as lecture-halls by wandering Sophists,[420] who gave free lectures in them to any passer-by who might care to listen, in order to attract regular, paying pupils. So we can take our pick and hear lectures on poetry or metaphysics, music or rhetoric, geography or history, at our pleasure.
After this, we can turn our attention to the great central courtyard,[421] which is surrounded by the cloister, or to the racecourse and open spaces which lie beyond it. In one part will be the wrestling arena.[422] Pairs of oiled, naked combatants will be struggling together, amid a crowd of cheering spectators, and perhaps the trainer will be standing by, giving them directions. One group attracts especial attention: for the pair are going to represent Athens at Olympia next year. Elsewhere the pankratiasts are contending, some sparring at arm’s length, others joined in a deadly grapple, rolling over and over on the ground and pummelling one another’s heads with their gloved knuckles. They are covered with clotted dust and oil and will need much scraping. Then there are the boxers, bearing either the light gloves, or, if they intend to take part in a big competition, the heavy iron balls padded over with leather which were used in the great Games.[423] There are races too in progress, lap by lap round the great Stadion. Some of the runners are naked, others are wearing helmet and shield, since they are practising for the Race in Armour. Friends run beside them for a little way, pacing them and encouraging them. Others are jumping, with the halteres in their hands, into the pit, while their friends mark the point where their heels have left a mark in the sand. A professional flute-player, with his mouth-band on, sets the time. Each is, no doubt, hoping to beat Phaüllos’ great jump of 55 feet—the world’s record. Everywhere are crowds of spectators,[424] and everywhere eager trainers giving advice, hoping, if their pupil gains a prize at some great Games, to make a name for themselves, and attract a crowd of lads to their paid lessons: perhaps they will even be immortalised by some contemporary Pindar in a song in honour of their pupil’s victory.
In another corner, it may be, there will be teams practising together. A regiment of epheboi may be undergoing their gymnastic training before service on the frontier:[425] or a team of them may be training, watched by the rich “gumnasiarchos,” for the torch-race at the festival of Hephaistos, or for the race from the Temple of Dionusos to that of Athena of the Sunshades, where the winner will receive a large bowl containing wine and honey and cheese and meat and olive oil—not all mixed together, let us hope.[426] There may also be teams practising wrestling and other bodily exercises together. Their trainer, “thinking it impossible to lay down separate regulations for each individual, orders roughly what suits the majority. So every one of the team takes an equal amount of exercise, and they all start and all stop running, or wrestling, or whatever it may be, at the same moment.”[427]
In the larger open spaces we shall find Athenians throwing the diskos, like Muron’s celebrated figure, or practising archery, or flinging the spear or javelin. In watching these care must be exercised: unwary spectators may be killed or injured. Mythology is full of unfortunates killed in this way. Was not the fair Huakinthos slain by Apollo’s quoit? Antiphon, too, in his new book on speech-writing, takes as one of his themes a boy killed by a comrade’s javelin accidentally. We can also take a lesson in the use of spear and shield from the teacher of arms: a pair of Sophists, who specialise in this subject, have just come to Athens, and will doubtless be exhibiting their skill here. We remember, though, that the warlike Spartans ridicule these professors, and General Laches regards them as quite useless for military purposes, as we heard him telling Sokrates the other day.[428] So we will pass on.
The vast majority of people in the gymnasium confine themselves to walking about. The colonnades and the gardens are convenient and attractive, and there is plenty to watch everywhere. The “xustos,” or covered cloister,[429] where athletes exercise in bad weather, is particularly popular among the walkers. And while they walk, they talk. There is a group of philosophical students arguing about the Supreme Good or constructing an ideal State. There is a party of inquirers who are discussing the nature of plants, or the varieties of crustaceans. Yonder, a half-naked, unkempt enthusiast is declaiming against luxury. “Man,” he cries, “is independent of circumstances.” Everywhere, walkers and spectators and talkers, but walkers above all.