CHAPTER III
The market for the sale of the Olynthians now stretched before us. As far as one could see, and forming in a straight line six large parallel ways, platforms of planks were erected upon tressels at a height of about a yard from the ground. The population of an entire city was there exposed before the population of another city: the one as merchandise, the other as purchaser. Twenty-five thousand men, women and children, their hands bound behind the back, the ankles shackled with loose cords, waited, for the most part standing—waited the unknown master who was yet to come, purchase, and lead them to some, to them, unknown place on Grecian soil. One soldier guarded forty; servants in crowds circulated with the bread and water needed for the sustenance of such a host of slaves. A great and murmurous noise perpetually ascended to the sky. It was like the sound of a great feast.
Parrhasius penetrated into the principal “street” of slaves, where were exposed for sale young men and young girls who appeared for one reason or another to be of the sort that would command a high price. To my great astonishment I did not catch in their eyes any great expression of sadness. They seemed merely curious. Human sadness and misery, for youth that is, has its certain measure, and they saw their sorrows were about to pass or be moderated by the care of a master. From the time of the ruin of their homes these beautiful beings had experienced to the full all that could give days and nights of despair. The young men no doubt had regained hope of their future escape: the young girls perhaps dreamed of a love that might partly release them. By bravado or by sheer ignorance of the fate in store they all showed a certain good humour. The crowd pressed around them, examining and uncertain before making a purchase. Few could have decided quickly in the midst of such a vast choice. Often they handled the slaves. Hands tested the muscles of a leg, the delicacy of a skin, the firmness of a breast. Then the intending purchasers passed on hoping to find better bargains.
Parrhasius halted an instant before a girl whose tall white form was a harmony of lines.
“Behold,” he said, “this is a beautiful child.”
A seller at once came forward and cried—
“She is the most beautiful one offered for sale, my lord. See how straight she is and white. Sixteen years old yesterday.”
“Eighteen years,” rectified the young girl.
“You lie, by Zeus! She is but sixteen years, my lord; do not credit her when she says otherwise. Look at her black locks lifted up by this comb. When she uncoils her hair it falls to the knees. Look at her long white fingers, untouched by any labour. She is the daughter of a senator.”