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Updated: June 29, 2025
Not long after their retreat, the twenty Athenian ships, which were to have joined Phormio before the battle, arrived at Naupactus. Thus the summer ended.
In the course of this winter, after the dispersion of the Peloponnesian fleet, the Athenians in Naupactus, under Phormio, coasted along to Astacus and disembarked, and marched into the interior of Acarnania with four hundred Athenian heavy infantry and four hundred Messenians.
But the condition of honest women in his day did not permit of the freedom of action and fencing dialectic of a Celimene, and consequently it is below our mark of pure Comedy. Sainte-Beuve conjures up the ghost of Menander, saying: For the love of me love Terence. Of the six comedies of Terence, four are derived from Menander; two, the Hecyra and the Phormio, from Apollodorus.
The ensuing winter the Athenians sent twenty ships round Peloponnese, under the command of Phormio, who stationed himself at Naupactus and kept watch against any one sailing in or out of Corinth and the Crissaean Gulf.
Have a brave heart. Remember that Helios can shine lustily even if you are not in Athens, and pray the gods to give a fair return.” Glaucon felt the money pressed within his palm. He saw Phormio turning away. He caught the fishmonger’s hard hand and kissed it twice. “I can never reward you. Not though I live ten thousand years and have all the gold of Gyges.”
Choosing his opening, Phormio flew the signal for attack and rammed one of the flagships of the Corinthian fleet. The Athenians fell upon their enemy and almost at the first blow routed the entire Corinthian force. In addition to those triremes that were sunk outright, twelve remained as prizes with their full complement of crews, and the rest scattered in flight.
Bias leaped back as the moonlight glanced over the face of the stranger. “Master Glaucon, half naked and mad! Ai! woe!” “Glaucon the Alcmæonid,” echoed Phormio, in amazement, and the other still struggled to escape. “Do you not hear? I am innocent. I never visited the Persian spy. I never betrayed the fleet. By what god can I swear it, that you may believe?”
“Envious dog,” commented Agis; and bitter personalities might have followed had not a bell jangled from an adjacent portico. “Phormio, my brother-in-law, with fresh fish from Phaleron,” announced Polus, drawing a coin from his wonted purse,—his cheek; “quick, friends, we must buy our dinners.”
It was said Democrates, in his ever commendable activity, had discovered at the last moment the mountain wall was not as defensible as hoped, and any resistance would have been disastrous. Therefore, whilst the retreat was bewailed, everybody praised the foresight of the orator. Everybody—one should say, except two, Bias and Phormio.
“And so Bias at once told you?” Hermione could not forbear a smile, but her gesture was of desperation. “O Father Zeus—only the testimony of a slave to lean on, I a weak woman and Democrates one of the chief men in Athens! O for strength to wring out all the bitter truth!” “Peace, kyria,” said Phormio, not ungently, “Aletheia, Mistress Truth, is a patient dame, but she says her word at last.
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