The Soaps of Cyprias
Lysicles
Tell me, friend: What is Frustration? To me, it is a rabid rodent
caged and antagonized within my breast that, half-afeared and half-delirious,
savagely screeches and claws and gnaws at my viscera in a futile
attempt to escape. My mind is a torrent of confusion and rage, my
limbs quake, my heart weeps, and all I wish is to hold you. Here
is why:
Since last I wrote, Gryllus has returned at regular intervals
to bathe me and swathe me in his presence. Up until now I have for
the most part surrendered to him, as he grew to represent far too
much effort to resist and, more importantly, for the sake of my
career I resolved to become acclimatized to the nearness of powerful
men who prove themselves unlikable. Thus I have made my body resigned
to his, and with a reasonable reciprocity have given to and taken
from it equal pleasure.
On his most recent visit, Gryllus announced for us an outing.
He stripped me of my uniform and placed me in plain clothes so as
not to draw attention to myself as a truant from school. And then
we walked down the hill together into the beating heart of Rome,
and I admit to finding in myself a surge of excitement as I imagined
the resources that were poised to become available to me through
the opening purse of Gryllus. I was not disappointed. In what he
called my “reward” for bending obedient to his will
and accepting his admiration, we stopped at a vendor’s cart
where he bought for me a skewer of spiced lamb. Then onward to the
shop of a fellow whom I was surprised to discover that I actually
liked, with the surprise stemming from the fact that Gryllus professed
him to be a friend. The man was named Cyprias, and he was a maker
of soap.
I
can hear you asking, What is soap? That is exactly what I said!
Cyprias sang that it is a substance made from goat’s tallow,
wood ash, sea salt, and any combination of perfumes a patrician
could wish for. When I laughed at his concoction (which he claimed
in all seriousness to be a substantial improvement over oil and
strigil!) he merely smiled at me and informed me that most of the
exclusive baths were making it available to their clients and that
he boasted of many private customers of the highest caliber as well.
He then proceeded to hand me a selection of bars from his kettles
and bade me sniff. I confess to have been wooed by them, Lysicles,
and was amazed at the beauteous fragrances that combined into these
wondrous little bars of promise. “Shall they truly render
a body clean?” I asked. To which Gryllus answered slyly, “Let
us go and find out.”
He took me then to a bathhouse that he told me was renowned simply
on account of its exclusivity. And indeed, Gryllus was charged by
it and happily paid well more than what a reasonable nobleman should
expect. I was nervous at first that he would compel me to engage
in acts not suitable for public eyes, but discovered to my relief
that such acts were commonplace within its walls. And then I wondered
at my relief, for should I not instead have been dismayed? It simply
goes to demonstrate how quickly I was adapting and becoming for
Gryllus what he wished of me. As I stepped into the hot water room,
all before me were men and their boys, washing and scrubbing, soaking,
talking, and taking from each other their pleasures. I took a deep
breath, for I sensed there was an ordeal before me, and what had
only moments before been a brilliant, happy, sun-dazzled day had
suddenly darkened into a gloaming of dim and steamy, lamp-lit apprehension.
Gryllus pulled me into the water and wetted the bar of soap. He
began to rub it over me and I was perplexed to see it foam and lather
upon my skin. I could feel the coarseness of the salt and surmised
that its role was the same as the strigil’s: to scrape away
all that was dirty upon me. As Gryllus moved the bar around my shoulders
and across my chest, the scent of it was quick to mix with the steam
and in moments my face was surrounded by a blossoming fragrance
that soothed my brain and put me quickly at ease. I was enraptured
by it, Lysicles, and thoroughly seduced. Then he dipped his hand
into the water and raised it to my shoulders, and I watched as the
foam slid down my front and scurried away onto the waves. And I
was amazed, for I glistened effortlessly clean!
“Miraculous,” I breathed, and Gryllus laughed heartily.
“You see?” he chided, and I smiled at the remembrance
of my skepticism before Cyprias. Then Gryllus reached down into
the water with the bar of soap and rubbed the rest of me, causing
me not unexpectedly to harden for him and present myself as desirous
for more. I confess to feeling a sensation of supreme comfort at
that moment; of allowing the sensuality of the man and his lather
to envelop me in a tingling and tantalizing serenity. But it was
cut short by the approach of a burly fellow that addressed Gryllus
by name and fell into a familiar conversation with him. It was quickly
apparent that the man, who had with him a boy that was several years
older than I, was stealing appreciative gazes in my direction, and
it wasn’t long before he made Gryllus his offer to swap in
our company for a time. I swallowed, knowing well that such was
Gryllus’ prerogative and it certainly was not beneath him
to do so, and, what’s more, the man with whom he was speaking
seemed only interested in taking from me his pleasure and returning
nothing. At the very least, Gryllus had learned that I expect from
him a certain degree of exchange.
I know you will be surprised to read, as was I when I heard it,
that Gryllus declined the offer. He explained to the man that today
was a day given solely to the pleasuring of Antinous, and that he
was unable to oblige. The refusal was met good-naturedly, and they
parted quite amicably. I looked at Gryllus then with a newfound
respect, for it appeared to me that he was at last beginning to
take my interests and my dignity to heart. As Gryllus then massaged
my body, it occurred to me that there was no ordeal to fear, for
although it had indeed come calling, it was denied. The day was
indeed my own, and the man who accompanied it was committed to my
immediate and present happiness. I turned to him and smiled and
thanked him. And then I kissed him.
He was delighted, and not unmoved by it. It seemed to me that
we had crossed a certain threshold together and I found myself thinking
that if he wished to remove me from the Paedagogium and make me
his own, I would not be wholly disappointed. And then he took me
into his mouth and brought me to a climax. I felt my body untangle
upon his tongue, and I was contented.
When we emerged from the bath back into the blinding sun, I was
refreshed and invigorated and happy. I imagined all the privileges
of manhood lining both sides of the street like competing merchants,
courting me and flattering my beauty and proffering all that was
available to be had from life. For the first time ever, I became
aware of the power I wielded and the advantages I could exploit,
simply on account of the pleasing shape of my body. I was both humbled
by it and at the same time emboldened; thankful yet feeling the
drunkenness of some divine entitlement. The wooden sword with which
I used to battle you at war was suddenly a gleaming blade forged
of the most perfect silver, and its weight in my hand was exhilarating.
I suddenly realized how and why a man’s beauty could become
one of his most powerful weapons. And knowing that the gods had
bestowed it upon me, I felt as like Achilles armed from the forge
of Hephaestus.
We strolled amicably past the Amphitheatre and back up the hill
toward school. At the gates, Vestinus was there to greet us and
claim me, which he did without comment. Gryllus bid me a simple
farewell and turned in the direction from whence we came. As I watched
him retreat, I confess to have looked on him as a man most impressive;
most in his element. Vestinus commanded me to my chamber, and I
obeyed him.
When I returned to my bed, Trenus greeted me with an incredulous
face. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “I was
with Gryllus,” I replied smoothly, feeling quite satisfied
with myself for having temporarily escaped the quotidian drudgery
of the school. And that’s when my world began to darken, for
Trenus shook his head in disbelief. “You missed it,”
he said. “You missed the General Inspection.”
The General Inspection happens twice a year and is rarely pre-announced
to the boys. It is an opportunity for the administrators of the
Imperial Household to observe the pupils in their natural habitat
and begin to deliberate about possible offices upon graduation from
the paedagogium. It is a critical moment in the life of a future
page, for not only does it help to familiarize the higher powers
with his appearance and disposition, but is also an opportunity
for him to demonstrate to his superiors the athletic vigour and
intellectual keenness that animates him.
And I had been absent.
Or rather, Gryllus had caused me to be absent, for he must surely
have known beforehand that it was scheduled to occur. And while
I was aware that it would have no immediate effect upon my life
at the school (which was already quite dismal), it was perfectly
obvious to me that I had missed the opportunity to be seen, to be
remembered, and to have the Powers take note of me for their future
and unfathomable reference. I was devastated. But what was far more
painful than the knowledge of my sudden disadvantage was the mortifying
shame at having only moments before thought myself to be privileged,
celebrated, and favoured in the eyes of the gods. How wrong I was!
Instead, they were laughing at my conceitedness, mocking my vanity,
and reveling in the delicious comedy by which Gryllus had so completely
swindled me. The crush of his betrayal was shocking and sickening,
and I crumpled down upon my knees to vomit.
Terseus was instantly sympathetic, for I believe he perceived
but moments after I that it had never been my intent to be absent.
He saw instantly the machinations of Gryllus, and quickly set about
to tend me. He lay me in my bed and went to fetch a shovel with
which to scoop away the reeking slop that once had been a delicious
morsel of spiced lamb. I was humbled, Lysicles. Thoroughly and devastatingly
humbled. Nevermore, I resolved, would I look on or employ my beauty
as a weapon, rank, or tactical advantage. To do so was the recourse
of fools and cowards who were but accidentally and temporarily blessed.
If anything, this beauty was a curse, for was it not the very thing
that effected to rend our twin souls asunder?
The night closed in about me, and as the other boys came to bed
I could hear them snickering at my obtuseness and my foppery. I
slept little. Then, somewhere beyond midnight, the sniffing rodent
discovered my festering heart and burrowed into it, making of my
heavy lungs a nest. Sunrise found me still awake, and all that was
shame had turned to an implacable anger that like a cruel child
delighted to randomly antagonize the little beast while refusing
at the same time to let it escape. Such is my Frustration, Lysicles,
and such is my ignominy. I have written it down and shall now dispatch
it to you in hopes that it will be carried distantly away on this
parchment. And while I should be sorry to burden you with it, I
am desperate to be rid of it. Perhaps if it never finds you, that
will not be such a bad thing: let it be lost forever in the wilds
of the Empire. But if that it succeeds in reaching you, I beg of
you to pray earnestly and long to the gods on my dismal behalf.
A.
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