Ancient thermae: grim realities

The balneary epigrams present a gilded dream of ancient bath-houses as the haunts of goddesses, gilded palaces of leisure and pleasure. A few anonymous poems, though, point towards realities that coiuld not be relied on to measure up. Promises of exclusivity and intimacy might mask cramped and overcrowded premises. The hypocausts that heated the warm and hot rooms were not always up to scratch, or owners skimped on fuel bills. They also leaked sooty smoke that called for regular cleaning, which didn't always happen. The deep-clean sponsored by Theodore in the second of these epigrams is presented as a truly heroic labour.

AP 9.609a

This one is where the Graces really bathed:
It has no room for any more than three.

AP 9.615
On a bath at Smyrna

You premises once murky, tell, what man
Rendered you wealthy in the light of day
That shines upon your bathers? Who was he
That found you caked in sooty smut and grime
And scoured it to expose your radiance?
The mind of Theodorus, wise in this
As in all things: how truly did it show,
Even in this, his heartfelt purity;
Though city father, steward of its means,
He never stained his hands with private gain
From public property. Almighty God,
Immortal Christ, protect this patriot
And ward him safe from all calamity.

AP 9.617
On a chilly bath

You bath-attendant, who put walls around
This icy river? What deceitful man
Renamed as bathing-house this mountain spring?
‘The lord of winds, Hippotes’ son, and friend
To the immortal gods’ has gathered in
The gales of every quarter, here to dwell.
Why are these wooden boards beneath our feet?
Their purpose is not warmth; instead they bear
A chilling stream of freshly melted snow:
Phrixus and Narce find themselves at home.
Put up a sign, then: ‘Bathe in Mesorus,
For Boreas is gusting here within.’