At first, Athenians, my wife was the best of all: she was a clever, frugal housekeeper, and kept everything in the nicest order. For when I decided to marry and I led a wife into my home, on the one hand for some time I was disposed neither to vex her nor to leave it in her power to do whatever she wished, I kept a watch on her as much as was possible, with such observation of her as was reasonable. But when a child was born to me, from that point on I began to trust her and placed all my affairs in her care, believing that this was the greatest form of intimacy.

Then certainly on that night after she got up, went out of the room, and closed the door, feigning to make fun, and took the key with her, and I, giving no thought to the matter nor having any suspicion, I went to sleep content, having returned from the country. And as the day was nearing, she came and opened the door. I asked why the doors made a noise in the night; she said that the lamp near the child had gone out, and so she had lit it at our neighbor’s. I trusted my wife.

She had been the ideal wife

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