"Argos' eyes,"Sostratos said softly. "There's no mythabout Argos and the peacock," Menedemos said. "Of coursenot," Sostratos said. "Back in the days when the myths were made,who'd ever seen a peacock? But if people had, that's the myth they would havemade." While they spoke,Himilkon, a practical man, tossed a net over the distracted peacock. It let outa horrified squawk and tried to get away again, but couldn't. Despite itsstruggles, Himilkon and Hyssaldomos wrestled it back into its cage withoutincurring more than minor flesh wounds. "Please don't letit out again any time soon, boss," the Karian slave pleaded, fastening thehooks and eyes that kept the peacock imprisoned. "Oh, shut up."The merchant drew back his foot as if to kick Hyssaldomos, but relented."If I have a customer, I'll put the bird through his paces." "And me throughmine, by Zeus Labraundeus," Hyssaldomos grumbled. He scowled at Menedemosand Sostratos. "Besides, who says they're customers? Just a couple ofgawkers, if you ask me." "Oh, we might beinterested . . . if the price is right," Menedemos allowed. In the fight withHimilkon and Hyssaldomos, the peacock had shed one of those astonishing tailfeathers. Menedemos plucked it off the ground and admired it. "Threeoboloi if you want to keep it," Himilkon said briskly. "Half adrakhma?" Menedemos yelped. "For a feather?" A drakhma a daycould feed and house a man and his family -  not in any style, but it would puta roof over their heads and keep them from starving. "That'srobbery!" Himilkon smiled."I'll deduct it from the price of the bird . . . if you're acustomer." Like any Hellene goingout where he might spend some money, Menedemos had a couple of oboloi tuckedbetween his cheek and his teeth. He spat the little silver coins into the palmof his hand and dried them on his tunic. Then he nudged his cousin, whoproduced another one. Menedemos handed Himilkon the coins. The Phoenicianpopped them into his own mouth. Menedemos asked, "Well, what do you wantfor him -  and for the peahens, too?"