{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_56929/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_56929","id":"gutenberg_56929","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56929","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Greece -- Social life and customs -- Fiction","Short stories, Danish -- Translations into English"],"text":"Produced by Charlie Howard and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  PICTURES OF HELLAS\n\n  FIVE TALES OF ANCIENT GREECE\n\n  BY\n  PEDER MARIAGER\n\n  _TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH_\n\n  BY\n  MARY J. SAFFORD\n\n  NEW YORK\n  WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER, PUBLISHER\n  11 MURRAY STREET\n  1888\n\n\n\n\n  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1888\n  BY WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER\n  in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATOR\u2019S PREFACE.\n\n\nThe author\u2019s preface to \u201cPictures of Hellas\u201d is so full, that the\ntranslator has nothing to add to the English version except the\nacknowledgment of valuable assistance rendered in \u201cthe obscure recesses\nof Greek literature\u201d by Professor Andrews, Ph.D., of Madison University.\n\n            MARY J. SAFFORD.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nNearly all the more recent romances and dramas, whose scene is laid in\nclassic times, depict the period of the great rupture between Paganism\nand Christianity. This is true of \u201cHypatia,\u201d \u201cFabiola,\u201d \u201cThe Last Days\nof Pompeii,\u201d \u201cThe Epicureans,\u201d \u201cThe Emperor and The Galilean,\u201d \u201cThe\nLast Athenian,\u201d and many other works. The cause of this coincidence\nis not difficult to understand; for a period containing such strong\ncontrasts invites \u00e6sthetic treatment.\n\nThe present tales derive their material from a different, but no less\ninteresting epoch. They give pictures of the flowering of Hellas, the\ndistant centuries whose marvellous culture rested solely on the purely\nhuman elements of character as developed beneath a mild and radiant sky.\n\nYet it required a certain degree of persistence to procure this\nmaterial. When we examine the Greek writers to find descriptions of\nthe _men_ of those times or the special characteristics of the social\nlife of the period, Greek literature, so rich in accounts of historical\nevents, becomes strangely laconic, nay almost silent.\n\nHow entirely different is the situation of a person who desires to\nsketch a picture of the Frenchmen of the sixteenth or seventeenth\ncenturies. The whole collection of memoirs is at his disposal. In these\nwritings the author discourses familiarly with the reader, gives him\nlifelike portraits of the ladies and gentlemen of the court, and tells\nhim the most minute anecdotes of the society of that day.\n\nGreek literature has nothing of this kind. The description of common\nevents and the history of daily existence are forms of writing of later\norigin, nothing was farther from the minds of ancient authors than the\nidea that _private life_ could contain anything worth noting. Herodotus\nand Thucydides narrated little or nothing of what the novelists of the\npresent day seek, nay, even among the orators only scattered details\nare found, and strangely enough there are more in the speeches of\nLysias than of Demosthenes.\n\nAmong the poets Aristophanes produces a whole gallery of contemporary\ncharacters, but indistinctly and in vague outlines; they were what\nwould now be called \u201coriginals from the street\u201d who, during the\nperformance of his comedies, sat among the spectators, and whom he only\nneeded to mention to evoke the laughter of the crowd. Something more\nmay be gathered from Lucian and Apuleius, together with the better\n\u201cMilesian\u201d tales, especially from Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius while,\non the contrary, the great Alexandrian lumber-room, owed to Athenaeus,\ncontains more gewgaws of learning and curiosa than really marked\ncharacteristics.\n\nIn the obscure recesses of Greek literature, where we are abandoned\nby all translators, and where--as everybody knows who has devoted\nhimself to the interpretation of the classics--only short excursions\ncan be made, we are sometimes surprised at finding, by pure accident,\nuseful matter. Dion Chrysostomus (VII) gives extremely interesting\ndescriptions of life in the Greek villages and commercial towns. But\nwhat is discovered is always so scattered that only a few notes can be\nobtained from numerous volumes.\n\nWhen I decided to turn what I had read to account, I was fully aware\nthat a presentation of ancient life in the form of a romance or novel\nwas one of the most difficult \u00e6sthetic tasks which could be undertaken.\nIf, nevertheless, I devoted myself to it, I naturally regarded the work\nonly as an experiment.\n\nIn choosing the narrow frame-work of short stories I set before myself\nthis purpose--to sketch the ordinary figures of ancient life on a\nhistorical background. I have--resting step by step on the classic\nwriters--endeavored to present some pictures of ancient times; but\nI have no more desired to exalt former ages at the expense of our\nown than the contrary. As to the mode of treatment--I have steadily\nintended to keep the representations objective, and to avoid using\nforeign words or giving the dialogues a form so ancient that they would\nnot be easy to read.[A] The stiff classic ceremonies, foot-washings,\netc., I have almost entirely omitted, and the archaeological and\nhistorical details have everywhere been subordinated to the contents of\nthe story, so that they merely serve to give an antique coloring to the\ndescriptions. Lastly, I have believed that the Greek characters ought\nto be completely banished from the book, and even from the notes and\npreface.\n\n                                  [A] So far as the idiomatic\n                                      differences of the two languages\n                                      would permit, the translator\n                                      has endeavored to retain the\n                                      simplicity of style deemed by the\n                                      author best suited to his purpose.\n\nAfter these general remarks I must be permitted to dwell briefly upon\nthe different tales, partly to point out the authority for such or such\na stroke and partly to give some few more detailed explanations.\n\nLittle is known of the Pelasgian epoch; but it is a historical fact\nthat a woman was abducted at the fountain of Callirrho\u00eb. On this\nincident the first story \u201cZeus Hypsistos\u201d is founded, and the climax\nof Periphas\u2019 death is based upon an ancient idea: a voice of fate. The\nbelief in Ph\u0113mai or Cledones is older than in that of most oracles,\nand dates back to the days of Homer. When Ulysses is wandering about,\npondering over the thought of killing the suitors, he prays to Zeus for\na sign and omen, a voice of fate, which then sounds in a thunder-clap\nand, inside of the house, he hears a slave-girl wishing evil to the\nsuitors. The old demi-god Cychreus of Salamis is mentioned by Pausanias\n(I. 36). It was a universal idea in ancient times that demi-gods liked\nto transform themselves into serpents. In the battle of Salamis a\nserpent appeared in the Athenian fleet; the oracle declared that it was\nthe ancient demi-god Cychreus. In Eleusis Demeter had a serpent called\nthe Cychrean, for Cychreus, who had either slain it or himself assumed\nits form. For the remarkable ceremonial of purification after a murder\n(page 58), see Apollonius\u2019 Argonautica (IV. 702). The words: \u201cZeus was,\nZeus is, and Zeus will be\u201d are borrowed from the ancient hymn sung by\nthe Dodonian priestesses, called Peleiades (doves.)\n\nIn \u201cThe Sycophant\u201d the notes cited on pages 72-73 would be valueless,\nif they did not contain the punishments which, according to Attic law,\nwere appointed for the transgressions named.\n\n_Hetaeriae_ was the name given to secret societies or fraternities,\nwhere six, seven, or more members united to work against or break\ndown the increasing power of the popular government, which was\nexerting a more and more unendurable pressure. There were many kinds\nof \u201c_hetaeriae_,\u201d but the most absolute secrecy was common to all.\nThe members were conspirators, pledged to assist one another by a\nsolemn oath, sworn by what was dearest to them in life. The harmless\n_hetaeriae_ comprised those who were pursuing no political object,\nbut merely consisted of office-seekers whose purpose was to aid one\nanother in the election to office or before the courts of justice. The\n_hetaeria_ here described is of the latter sort; for the delineation\nof a political society of this kind would require a far more extensive\napparatus than could be contained within the brief limits of a tale.\nSeveral of the characters in \u201cThe Hetaeria\u201d have actually existed. The\ncomedian Sthenelus is mentioned by Aristophanes (_vesp._ 1313) as well\nas the orator and tragedian Acestor (_vesp._ 1220; _aves_ 31) both are\nsketched from the more minute details of the Scoliastae. Phanus is also\nmentioned by Aristophanes (_equit._ 1233) as Cleon\u2019s clerk. Among the\nwomen of the tale there is also an historical personage, the foreign\nwitch Ninus, who professed to be a priestess of the Phrygian god\nSabazius. She travelled through Hellas at the time of the Peloponnesian\nWar and reaped a rich harvest by her divination and manufacture of love\npotions; but her end was tragical--she was summoned before the courts\nas a poisoner and condemned to death (A. Schaefer, Demosth. I. 199).\nThe main outlines of the relations between Hipyllos and Cleobule are\ntaken from the commencement of Cnemon\u2019s story in Heliodorus (I. 2) and\nthe description of Sthenelus\u2019 fall from the boards is almost literally\nrepeated from Lucian (The Dream, 26). The account of the naval battle\nat Rhion is an extract from Thucydides (II. 86-92).\n\n\u201cToo Happy\u201d is founded upon an ancient idea: the prayer for a sign\nand the acceptance of an omen. Piracy, which plays a prominent part\nin the narrative, was practised at an early period in the \u00c6gean\nSea and afterwards attained such dangerous extent that large and\nmagnificent fleets of pirate cruisers finally threatened Rome herself\nwith intercepting the importations of grain from Pontus. It might\nperhaps be considered too romantic for a disguised corsair to examine\nthe ship lying in port before plundering her in the open sea. Quite\ndifferent things, however, are reported. The Phoenician pirates had\nsecret agents who discovered where a ship with a rich cargo lay and\npromised the helmsman \u201cten-fold freight money,\u201d if he would anchor\nin some secluded place, behind a promontory, etc., where the vessel\ncould be overpowered. (Philostratus, _vita Apoll. Tyan._ III. 24). The\nconclusion of the story (the ladder hung outside of the ship so that it\ntouches the water) is taken from Plutarch (Pompeius, 24).\n\nIn \u201cLycon with the Big Hand\u201d the artist Aristeides and what is said\nof his paintings are historical. The same is true of the traits of\ncharacter cited about the tyrant Alexander of Pherae. Under the\ndescription of the earthquake is given an account of what is called\nin seismology a _tidal wave_. A side-piece to this may be found in\nThucydides (III. 89) where--after a remark about the frequency of\nearthquakes during the sixth year of the Peloponnesian War--it is\nstated: \u201cAmong these earthquakes the one at Orobi\u00e6 in Eub\u0153a displayed a\nremarkable phenomenon. _The sea receded from the shore; then suddenly\nreturned with a tremendous wave and flooded part of the coast_, so\nthat what was formerly land became a portion of the sea. Many people\nperished.\u201d\n\nIn these five stories the scene is laid in Athens, on the \u00c6gean Sea,\nand in Thessaly--but, wherever it is, I have always endeavored to\ngive the characters life and movement, and make them children of the\ntimes and of the Hellenic soil. I have also sought to delve deeper\ninto the life of ancient times than usually happens in novels. Many\npeculiarities, like the purification after a murder in the first tale,\nthe Baetylus oracle in \u201cThe Hetaeria,\u201d and the use of the great weapon\nof naval warfare, _the dolphin_, in \u201cToo Happy\u201d have scarcely been\npreviously described in any form in our literature. The belief in\nmarvellous stones animated by spirits was widely diffused in ancient\ntimes, as such stones, under the name of _abadir_, were known in\nPhoenicia. The description of the Baetylus oracle is founded upon Pliny\n(17, 9, 51), Photius (p. 1047) and Pausanias (X. 24). It is evident\nenough that the stone-spirit\u2019s answer was given by the ventriloquist\u2019s\nart. Though the ancients had several names for ventriloquists, such as\n_engastrimythae_, _sternomanteis_, etc., the art was certainly little\nknown in daily life, it seems to have been kept secret and used for the\nanswers of oracles, etc. The soothsayer and ventriloquist Eurycles,\nmentioned by Aristophanes, endeavored to make the people believe that a\nspirit spoke from his mouth because he uttered words without moving his\nlips. For the _dolphin_, the weapon used in naval warfare, see _Scholia\ngraeca in Aristoph._ (_equit_ 762) and Thucydides (VII. 41).\n\nIn the ancient dialogue I have always endeavored to give the replies\nan individual coloring, and it will be found that Acestor speaks a\ndifferent language from Sthenelus, Philopator from Polycles, etc.\nPhrases like: \u201cBegone to the vultures,\u201d \u201cshow the hollows under the\nsoles of the feet,\u201d \u201ccasting fire into the bosom,\u201d etc., may easily be\nrecognized as borrowed from the classic writers. To enter into the\nsubject more minutely would be carrying the matter too far. Single\ncharacteristic expressions, such as _palpale legein_, etc. cannot be\nreproduced.\n\nIn introducing the reader to so distant and alien a world, it has been\na matter of great importance to me to win his confidence; with this\npurpose I have sought by quotations to show the authority for what I\nhave written. Here and there, to remove any doubt of the existence of\nan object in ancient times, I have added the Greek names. For the rest\nI have everywhere striven to follow the old maxim _artis est celare\nartem_.\n\n  COPENHAGEN, November 1, 1881.\n\n            P. MARIAGER.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n  ZEUS HYPSISTOS,                                                      1\n\n  THE SYCOPHANT,                                                      69\n\n  THE HETAERIA,                                                       95\n\n  TOO HAPPY,                                                         203\n\n  LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND,                                           225\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n  _Gold-fillet_ (Dr. Schliemann. Hissarlik, Troy.)                     1\n\n  _Dragon figure on a gold plate_ (Dr. Schliemann, Mycen\u00e6.)           65\n\n  _The market of Athens_ at a later period, about 200 B.\u00a0C.\n      (In the upper part, in the background, is the Acropolis\n      with the Parthenon, the colossal statue of Athene, and\n      the Propyl\u00e6a. To the left of the centre is a part of King\n      Attalus\u2019 hall, afterwards the Stoa Poecile, the circular\n      Tholus, and behind, the Bouleuterium. In the foreground is\n      a statue of Eirene, Peace, with the child Plutus in her\n      arms; in the centre of the steps the square orator\u2019s stage\n      with hermae at the corners.)                                    69\n\n  _Antique vase design_,                                              92\n\n  _Athens seen from the road to Eleusis._ (In the centre of the\n      picture the Acropolis, with the lower town in front, in the\n      background Mt. Hymettus.)                                       95\n\n  _Antique vase design_,                                             199\n\n  _The \u00c6gean Sea._ (A large ploion, merchant ship, followed by a\n      pirate craft. Two of the Cyclades in the background.)          203\n\n  _Renaissance design_,                                              222\n\n  _Coast scene in Thessaly_, (near Pass of Thermopyl\u00e6,)              225\n\n  _Ancient jugglers._ (The figure at the right is performing a\n      \u201csword dance.\u201d)                                                318\n\n\n\n\nZEUS HYPSISTOS.\n\nA TALE OF THE PELASGIAN PERIOD.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nZEUS HYPSISTOS.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe region was one of the most noteworthy in Attica. Manifold in\nvariety were the objects crowded together within a narrow space. By the\nside of riven masses of rock appeared the smooth slopes of a mountain\nplateau, and--the centre of the landscape--a huge crag with a flat top\nand steep sides towered aloft like a gigantic stone altar, reared by\nthe earth itself to receive the homage and reverence of mankind. Two\nrivers, a wide and a narrow stream, flowed down its sides. Height and\nvalley, ravine and mountain peak, closely adjoined each other, all easy\nof access and affording a surprising wealth of beautiful views.\n\nThe spot had a lofty destination. Here temples and pillared halls,\nhermae and statues were to appear like the marble embodiment of a\ndream of beauty in the youth of the human race; from hence the light of\nintellect was to diffuse its rays over the whole inhabited world.\n\nBut in the distant ages of which we are now speaking Athens had no\nexistence even in name. Yet a suburb of the city afterwards so renowned\nwas already in course of construction. On the Pnyx, the Areopagus,\nand part of the Museium stood a number of dwellings, and even at the\npresent day traces may be found on these heights of eight or nine\nhundred houses, which must have lodged three or four thousand persons.\n\nThis city, founded by inhabitants of the island of Salamis, was called\nKranaai, and its residents were known by the name of Cranai, dwellers\non the heights.\n\nNothing could be more simple than these houses. As may still be\nseen, they consisted merely of a room hollowed in the cliff, closed\nin front and above with clay and stones,--the latter seem to have\nrested upon logs to prevent a sudden fall during the earthquakes so\nfrequent in this region. Here and there small holes, into which the\nends of the pieces of timber were thrust, may still be discerned in\nthe cliffs. Many of the dwellings were arranged in rows, rising like\nstairs one above another, all with an open space in front to serve as\na place of meeting for the inhabitants. These terraces were connected\nby small steps hewn in the rock; here and there appeared altars,\nlarge storehouses, and tombs, the latter consisting of one or more\nsubterranean rock chambers. Great numbers of such sepulchres are still\nfound scattered over large tracts of the ancient cliff-city.\n\nOther remains of masonry may be seen in the holes in the earth made\nto collect rain-water. More than twenty of these ancient wells can be\ncounted in this region, for though the Attic country was richly dowered\nin many respects, it lacked water, and it was not without cause that\nSolon\u2019s law afterwards prohibited any one from borrowing of a neighbor\nmore than a certain quantity. The inhabitants of Kranaai had located\ntheir wells so skilfully that even now--after the lapse of more than\nthirty centuries--many of them collect and keep the rain.\n\nBelow the cliff-city itself the direction of the streets may still be\ndiscerned, especially in the deep gully leading down to the Ilissus.\nHere there are distinct traces of wheels, between which the stone was\nroughened to give the draught-animals a better foothold, and along the\nsides of the road ran smooth-hewn gutters to carry off the rain-water\npouring down from both bluffs.\n\n\nII.\n\nMany generations had already succeeded each other in the cliff-city,\nwhen a new race settled on the little plateau between the Hill of\nthe Nymphs and the Gulf of Barathron. Like their predecessors,\nthe new-comers originated in Salamis, but they called themselves\nCychreans, from a family descended from Cychreus, one of the demi-gods\nof the island.\n\nWhile on the Pnyx alone was found the altar of Zeus Hypsistos, the\nsupreme Zeus, around which gathered the native inhabitants and the\nCranai to worship a common god, the new-comers erected a sanctuary to\nthe sea-nymph Melite, Hercules\u2019 love, who was related to the \u00c6acidae,\nnatives of Salamis.\n\nThe two neighboring colonies thus each worshipped its own divinity and\nlived in peace and friendship, nay at last some of the Cychreans took\nwives among the daughters of the Cranai.\n\nOn the other hand the new-comers were by no means on good terms with\nthe natives; for, as the latter lived scattered over the country and\ndid not seem to be very numerous, the Cychreans had forced those they\nmet to work for them. They had already employed them to smooth the\ncliff, to enable them to build there, and many of the Pelasgians had\nbeen seriously injured by the toilsome labor. Nay, Tydeus, a tall,\nhandsome youth, brother of one of their chiefs, had suffered a terrible\ndeath, having been stoned because he had defended himself and refused\nto work for the foreigners.\n\nThe Cychreans endeavored to conceal their crime, fearing that when the\nmatter reached the Pelasgians\u2019 ears they would make war upon them.\nThere was very grave cause for alarm; for the Cychreans had often seen\nfrom their cliff Pelasgian scouts hiding behind the clumps of broom on\nthe plains, evidently watching for an opportunity to approach their\nenslaved countrymen. Young, swift-footed youths, whom it was lost\ntime to pursue, had invariably been chosen for this service, so the\nCychreans lay in ambush, captured some of the lads and questioned them\nnarrowly then, as they pretended to know nothing, forced them to work\nlike the others.\n\nThe morning after the capture of these spies the Cychreans noticed\nthat, far out on the plain, a pile of wood had been lighted, on which\nferns and green plants were undoubtedly thrown; for it sent forth a\ndense, blackish-brown smoke, which rose to a considerable height and\ncould be seen far and near. Later in the day another bale-fire was\ndiscovered farther off, and before noon ten columns of smoke were\ncounted from the cliff, five on each side, the last of which were\nalmost lost to sight in the distance. There was something strangely\nmenacing in these murky clouds which, calling to and answering each\nother, rose like a mute accusation towards the sky.\n\nThe whole Cychrean nation, young and old, bond and free, gathered\noutside of their houses and stared at the unknown sign. They suspected\nthat it was a signal for the Pelasgians to assemble, but when they\nspoke of it to the new bondmen the latter said they had never seen such\na smoke, but that the Cychreans might rely upon it that the Pelasgians\nwould not march against them until the arrival of a more propitious\nday. When the new settlers asked when that would be, they answered:\n\n\u201cWhen the moon is large in the sky.\u201d\n\nThe Cychreans were obliged to be content with this, but each man in\nsecret carefully examined his weapons; no one believed himself safe.\n\n\nIII.\n\nLyrcus, son of Xanthios, was one of the principal Cychrean chiefs. He\nwas feared for his strength and, in those days, fear was synonymous\nwith respect. Lyrcus had devoted himself to the trade of war; he\nunderstood how to forge and handle weapons and taught the youths their\nuse. In personal appearance he was a tall man with curling black\nlocks, a reddish-brown beard, and a keen, but by no means ugly face.\nHe usually went clad in a tight-fitting garment made of wolf-skins,\nthat left his muscular legs and arms bare, and wore around his waist\na leather girdle in which was thrust a bronze knife a finger long.\nMany tales about him were in circulation among the Pelasgians; for\nbeing a warlike man he had often quarrelled with them and on predatory\nexcursions with some of his comrades had plundered their lands,\ncarrying off goats, barley, figs, honey, and whatever else pleased him.\n\nLyrcus was no longer very young. He had seen the green leaves unfold\nand the swallows return some forty times. Nevertheless, he had always\nscoffed at love and considered it foolish trifling. When he was not\nforging, his mind was absorbed in the chase and in practising the use\nof arms.\n\nYet, though Lyrcus was so fierce a warrior, Aphrodite had touched\nhis heart and shown that she, as well as Artemis, deserved the name\nof Heka\u00ebrge, the far-shooting. Once, during a short visit to the\nneighboring settlement, Lyrcus had seen Byssa, the fairest maiden in\nthe cliff-city, drawing water from the well in front of her house, and\nhad instantly been seized with an ardent passion for her. Grasping her\nfirmly by the arm, he gazed intently at her and, when the blushing\nmaiden asked why he held her so roughly, he replied: \u201cNever to let you\ngo!\u201d Such was the fierce Lyrcus\u2019 wooing.\n\nByssa\u2019s father, Ariston, the priest of Zeus Hypsistos, was an aged,\ngentle-natured man who dared not refuse the turbulent warrior; yet he\nonly gave his consent on condition that Byssa should keep the faith\nof her ancestors and not offer sacrifices to Melite in the Cychreans\u2019\nsanctuary. Nevertheless, both he and his wife had tears in their eyes\nwhen Lyrcus bore their only child away and, in taking leave of Byssa,\nAriston laid his hands upon her head, saying:\n\n\u201cBe a good wife to this stranger. But do not abandon Zeus Hypsistos,\nthat Zeus Hypsistos may not abandon you.\u201d\n\nSince that day a whole winter had passed, and Lyrcus seemed to love\nByssa more and more tenderly. There was only one subject on which the\nhusband and wife held different opinions. When Lyrcus saw the other\nwomen flocking to Melite\u2019s sanctuary he often wished that Byssa should\naccompany them. But Byssa was inflexible. \u201cRemember your promise to\nmy father,\u201d she said. \u201cWhatever may befall me, I shall never forget\nhis counsel: \u2018Do not abandon Zeus Hypsistos, that Zeus Hypsistos may\nnot abandon you.\u2019\u201d And so the matter rested. But when a Phoenician\nship came to the coast--for in those days the Phoenicians were the\nonly people who dared to sail across the sea--Lyrcus bought the\nfinest stuffs, ornaments, and veils. It seemed as though he could not\nadorn Byssa enough, she was to be more richly attired than any of the\nCychrean women.\n\nByssa had already had one suitor before her marriage, one of the\nPelasgian chiefs, a man thirty-eight years old, named Periphas. He was\nthe owner of a large herd of goats, often offered sacrifices to Zeus,\nsmoothed many a quarrel, and had the reputation of being a good and\nupright man. Yet there was little reason that he should be renowned for\npiety and sanctity, for he could scarcely control his passions and had\nso violent a temper that he had once killed a soothsayer because the\nlatter, in the presence of the people, had predicted that he would die\na shameful death.\n\nWhile offering a sacrifice in the cliff-city Periphas had seen pretty\nByssa and instantly asked her of her father, promising rich bridal\ngifts. But the priest Ariston had answered that the maiden was still\ntoo young.\n\nAfter that time Periphas was often met in the vicinity of the Cranai\u2019s\ncliff and, when sacrifices were offered on the ancient altar, always\nappeared at the head of the Pelasgians. But from the hour Lyrcus had\ncarried Byssa home none of the Cranai had seen him, though it was said\nthat on one of Lyrcus\u2019 pillaging excursions he had shouted:\n\n\u201cBeware, when the day of retribution comes, I shall not content myself\nwith carrying off goats.\u201d\n\nSuch was the state of affairs at the beginning of our tale. It almost\nseemed as if the capture of the spies was to give occasion for war;\none of the youths had succeeded in escaping and the Cychreans feared\nthat during his stay among them he might have obtained news of Tydeus\u2019\ndeath. This Tydeus, who had been so shamefully stoned, was Periphas\u2019\nbrother, and the chief thus had double cause for vengeance--his\nbrother\u2019s murder and his slighted love.\n\nBut spite of the danger, under these circumstances, of leaving the\nCychreans\u2019 cliff Lyrcus had too restless a nature to remain quietly at\nhome. The very day that the columns of smoke had struck such terror\ninto the people he had set out early in the morning, accompanied by six\nor eight men, to hunt on the plains or among the woods that clothed Mt.\nParnes.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe day had been one of scorching heat. The sun had still one-sixth of\nits course to run, and the air quivered over the heated cliffs.\n\nThe Cychreans had sought refuge outside of their small, close dwellings\nto get a breath of the north wind. On each terrace, men, women,\nand children were moving about, the former often clad merely with\nthe skin of some animal thrown around the hips, the boys perfectly\nnude, and the women in looped, sleeveless garments or sometimes with\nonly a short petticoat over the loins. Most of these robes were\nwhite, and the others were made of red, yellow, or blue stuffs; at\nthat time people valued only bright pure colors. Everywhere merry\nconversation was heard, and these hundreds of half-nude figures formed\nan indescribably animated picture against the dark background of rock.\nFear of the Pelasgians seemed to have vanished even before the fires\nwere extinguished, at any rate it did not prevent the Cychreans from\nenjoying the present moment.\n\nOn one of the lowest terraces, directly opposite to the Areopagus,\nstood Lyrcus\u2019 house and beside it the shed where he forged his weapons.\nAt the door he had chained a large yellow dog of the Molossian breed,\na sort of bull-dog, and in the shelter of the dwelling an old female\nslave was busy at a fire, over which she had hung a soot-encrusted clay\nvessel.\n\nA few paces off, towards the edge of the cliff, a canopy of rushes was\nstretched between long poles. Beneath its shadow stood Byssa busied in\nweaving loose bits of woollen stuff into a single piece. The \u201cchain\u201d\nwas placed perpendicularly, so that the weaving was done standing;--the\nhorizontal loom, which had been used in Egypt for centuries, was not\nyet known in Hellas.\n\nAs Byssa stood near the verge of the cliff, with the blue sky behind\nher, there was an excellent opportunity to observe her. She had\nfastened her dark hair in a knot through which a bronze pin was thrust,\nand wore around her neck a row of blue glass beads. The rest of her\ndress consisted merely of a red petticoat, reaching from her hips to\nher knees. But her low brow, her calm black eyes, brilliant complexion,\nand full bust displayed the voluptuous beauty peculiar to the South,\nand which, even in early youth, suggests the future mother. In short,\nshe was a true descendant of the grand Hellenic women, who from the\ndim mists of distant ages appear in the bewitching lore of tradition,\nfair enough to lure the gods themselves and strong enough to bear their\nardent embrace and become the mothers of demi-gods and heroes.\n\nIt was a pleasure to see how nimbly she used her hands, and how swiftly\nthe weaving progressed. Each movement of the young wife\u2019s vigorous,\nrounded, slightly-sun-burned body, though lacking in grace, possessed a\npeculiar witchery on which no man\u2019s eye would have rested with impunity.\n\nBut all men seemed banished from her presence. Every one knew that\nLyrcus\u2019 jealousy was easily inflamed, and however great the charm Byssa\nexercised, fear of the fierce warrior was more potent still.\n\nByssa\u2019s thoughts did not seem to be absorbed in her work. Each moment\nshe glanced up from her weaving.\n\nThe Attic plain lay outspread before her in the sunlight. Here were no\nwaving grain-fields, no luxuriant vineyards; the layer of soil that\ncovered the rocks was so thin that the scanty crop of grass could only\nfeed a few goats. Here and there appeared a few gnarled olive-trees,\nwhose green-grey foliage glistened with a silvery lustre, and wherever\nthere was a patch of moisture the earth was covered with a speckled\ncarpet of crocus, hyacinth, and narcissus blossoms.\n\nFinding the plain always empty and desolate, the young wife at last let\nher hands fall and, sighing deeply, turned towards the slave.\n\n\u201cHow long he stays!\u201d she exclaimed, breaking the silence.\n\n\u201cLyrcus is strong and well armed,\u201d replied the slave as she heaped more\nwood on the fire. \u201cThe Pelasgians fear him worse than death. He will\nreturn unhurt.\u201d\n\nByssa worked on silently; but she was not at ease and looked up from\nher weaving still more frequently than before.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d cried the slave suddenly, \u201cthere they are. Look at Bremon.\u201d[B]\nThe bull-dog had risen on its hind legs and was leaning forward so\nthat the chain was stretched tight; snuffing the wind and growling\nimpatiently it wagged its tail with all its might.\n\n                                  [B] Growler.\n\n\nV.\n\nByssa stepped farther from under the rush canopy and shaded her eyes\nwith her hands. On the right the view was closed by Mt. Lycabettus,\nwhose twin peaks looked almost like one; on the left the gaze rested on\ndark Parnes, whose strangely-formed side-spur, Harma, the chariot, was\ndistinctly visible from the Cychreans\u2019 cliff.\n\nFor a long time Byssa saw nothing, then she accidentally noticed, much\nnearer than she had expected, a white spot among some trees.\n\n\u201cThere he is! There he is!\u201d she cried joyously, clapping her hands.\n\u201cTratta, rejoice! I see a light spot out there--his white horse.\u201d\n\nIn a mountainous country like Attica even the plains are uneven, and a\nrise of the ground concealed her view of the approaching steed.\n\nAt last the light spot appeared again--this time considerably nearer.\nThen several moments passed, during which it seemed to grow larger.\n\nByssa strained her sight to the utmost, her bosom heaving with anxious\nsuspense. Suddenly she turned very pale and throwing herself upon\nTratta\u2019s breast, faltered in a low voice:\n\n\u201cSomething terrible has happened. The horse is alone--riderless.\u201d\n\nAlmost at the same instant she released herself from the slave\u2019s\nembrace and went to the very verge of the cliff. From thence, at a\nlong distance behind the horse, she descried a group of people slowly\nadvancing. Several men who looked like black specks seemed to be\ncarrying another, and several more followed.\n\nAt this sight Byssa uttered a loud shriek and clenched both hands in\nher hair. But Tratta held her back.\n\n\u201cBe calm, child,\u201d she said with all the authority of age. \u201cFirst learn\nwhat has happened. You can find plenty of time to mourn.\u201d\n\nBut Byssa did not heed her. The horse had come very near and was\ngalloping swiftly to its stable at the foot of the cliff.\n\nEre Tratta could prevent it, Byssa hurried to the nearest flight of\nstairs and darted madly down the rough-hewn steps, where the slightest\nstumble would cause mutilation or death. The slave, not without an\nanxious shake of the head, slowly followed.\n\nThe horse had scarcely allowed itself to be caught when Byssa, with\ntears in her eyes and a peculiar solemnity of manner, turned to the old\nservant and pointed to the animal\u2019s heaving flank.\n\nThere was not the slightest wound to be seen; but a streak of blood a\nfinger broad had flowed down the steed\u2019s white side and matted its hair\ntogether.\n\n\u201cI knew it, Tratta, I knew it!\u201d cried Byssa despairingly.\n\nThen, in a lower tone, she added: \u201cIt is _his_ blood.\u201d\n\nBut Tratta answered almost angrily:\n\n\u201cHis or some other person\u2019s; what do you know about it? Help me to get\nthe horse into the shed.\u201d\n\nByssa, without knowing what she was doing, obeyed and then looked out\nover the plain, where she beheld a sight that made her tremble from\nhead to foot.\n\nLyrcus was approaching uninjured at the head of his men.\n\nByssa uttered a shriek of joy that echoed from cliff to cliff as, with\noutstretched arms and fluttering hair, she flew to meet her husband.\n\nLyrcus knit his brows.\n\n\u201cWhat is it? What do you want here?\u201d he asked, surprised to find her at\nthe base of the cliff.\n\nBut Byssa heeded neither words nor look. Throwing her arms around his\nneck she clung to him and covered his wolf-skin robe with tears and\nkisses.\n\n\u201cLyrcus, you are alive,\u201d she repeated frantically, while all the fear\nand suspense she had endured found vent in soothing sobs.\n\n\u201cByssa, speak! What is it?\u201d asked Lyrcus, amazed at the excitement in\nwhich he found his wife.\n\nByssa took him by the hand, led him to the stable, and put her finger\non the red streak upon the horse\u2019s side.\n\n\u201cSimpleton!\u201d said Lyrcus laughing. \u201cThat is no human blood.\u201d And he\npointed to a huge dead wild-boar, which two men could scarcely carry\non a lance flung over their shoulders. \u201cAfter the hunt,\u201d he continued,\n\u201cwe wanted to put the great heavy beast on the horse; but it was\nfrightened, bolted, and ran home.\u201d\n\nMeantime the men had come up. In spite of their fear of Lyrcus they\ncould not refrain from looking at pretty Byssa, who was now doubly\nbeautiful in her agitation and delight. Nay, some were not content\nwith gazing at her face, but cast side-glances at her bare feet and\nankles, which were sufficiently well-formed to attract attention,\nthough it was customary for women to go about with looped garments.\n\nLyrcus noticed these stolen glances, and frowning gripped his lance\nmore firmly.\n\n\u201cWhy do you wear that red rag?\u201d he said harshly, pointing to Byssa\u2019s\nshort petticoat. \u201cHaven\u2019t I given you long robes?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe sun is so hot--and I was alone at my weaving,\u201d stammered the poor\nyoung wife with a burning blush.\n\nAs she spoke, confused and abashed, she put her foot on the lowest step\nof the rock-stairs and was going to hurry up the cliff. But Lyrcus\nseized her and hurling her behind him so that he concealed her with his\nown body, shouted sternly to his companions:\n\n\u201cForward!\u201d\n\nThen he himself went up after them, watching rigidly to see that no one\nlooked back, but left Byssa and the slave to follow as best they could.\n\n\nVI.\n\nOn the cliff above there was great joy among the Cychreans over the\nsplendid game. But when the animal was flayed and its flesh cut into\npieces all, not merely the hunters themselves but their friends and\nrelatives, wanted a share of the prize. From words they came to blows,\nand Lyrcus needed all his authority to restrain the infuriated men.\n\nMeantime the sun had set behind the mountains of Corydallus. The\nolive-trees on the plain cast no shadows, the whole of the level ground\nwas veiled in darkness. Everything was silent and peaceful, ever and\nanon a low twittering rose from the thickets.\n\nThe Cychreans lingered gossipping together after the labor of the\nday. Some of them asked Lyrcus and his companions whether anything\nhad happened during the hunt. Lyrcus replied that small parties of\nPelasgians had been seen passing in the distance, but he seemed to\nattach no importance to the matter, and many of the Cychreans were\npreparing to go to rest--when a child\u2019s clear voice cried in amazement:\n\n\u201cLook, look! The hills are moving!\u201d\n\nEvery eye followed the direction of the child\u2019s finger.\n\nFar away over some low hills, whose crests stood forth in clear relief\nagainst the evening sky, a strange rippling motion was going on. It\nlooked as though some liquid body was flowing down, for one dark rank\nsucceeded another, as wave follows wave.\n\nThere was something in the sight which turned the blood in the\nCychreans\u2019 veins to ice. Nothing was visible on the plain itself;\neverything there was shrouded in the dusk of evening.\n\nAll listened in breathless suspense. Then a rushing sound echoed\nthrough the increasing darkness--a noise like a great body of men in\nmotion, the hum of many voices, distant shouts, songs, and the clash\nof weapons. The din seemed to increase and draw nearer. Then flames\nglimmered, as though instantly covered by dark figures. It was like a\nliving stream, that grew and widened till it surrounded the whole cliff.\n\nThen a torch was lighted and a small party of ten or twelve men\napproached within a bow-shot. Two of them put long horns of spiral\nform to their mouths, and wild echoing notes resounded from cliff to\ncliff. A man clad in a white linen robe stepped forward, raising aloft\na laurel staff. Deep silence followed, and his shrill voice was now\nheard, saying:\n\n\u201cCychreans! Ye have greatly wronged us. Ye have built houses on land\nthat was not yours; ye have made the men of our nation serve you and,\nwhen the youth Tydeus refused, ye basely murdered him.\n\n\u201cFor the surrender of the land and in token of subjection ye must pay\nus, the original inhabitants of the country, an annual tribute of seven\nhundred spears and as many swords and shields.\u201d\n\nHere a loud clamor arose among the Cychreans. They understood that it\nwas the Pelasgians\u2019 intention to disarm them, and their wrath found\nvent in fierce invectives.\n\n\u201cListen to the dogs!\u201d they shouted. \u201cEre the battle has begun, they\ntalk like conquerors. Do the bragging fools suppose they can blow the\ncliff over with their snail horns?\u201d\n\nBut the herald did not allow himself to be interrupted.\n\n\u201cCychreans!\u201d he continued, \u201cthe Pelasgians whom ye have enslaved must\nbe set free and, in compensation for your crime of murder, we demand\nthat you deliver up to us Lyrcus, who has provoked war and pillaged\npeaceful dwellers in the land. These demands we will enforce by arms.\nWe no longer come with entreaties, but with commands.\u201d\n\nAgain a terrible din arose, but Lyrcus ordered silence and springing\nupon a rock, from which he could be seen and heard far and near,\nshouted:\n\n\u201cPelasgians! The land where we have built was desolate and uninhabited;\nit belonged to us as much as to you. When you demand slaves and wish\nme to be delivered over to you, the answer is: _Come and take us_. But\nmark this: it is _you_, not _we_, who begin the war; we only defend\nourselves against assault. This answer is deserved, and approved by our\npeople.\u201d\n\nLoud exulting shouts from the Cychreans hailed his words.\n\nLyrcus gazed confidently around him; for, reckless as he was of his own\nsafety, he was cautious where the people\u2019s welfare was concerned. At\nthe first sign of war he had put the cliff in a posture of defence.\n\nAt all the wider approaches he had piled heaps of huge stones to be\nrolled down on the foe, and where men could climb up singly he had\nstationed sentinels. The rear of the height was inaccessible; here\nstretched for more than four hundred ells the Golf of Barathron,\nbordered along its almost perpendicular sides by cliffs from ninety to\na hundred yards high. This dark, wild chasm was afterwards used for\na place of execution; and it was here that malefactors whom the law\nsentenced \u201cto be hurled into the abyss\u201d ended their days. Towards the\nnorth, the windward side, the cliff had no covering of earth and here\nat its foot, half concealed among some huge boulders, was the entrance\nto a cave which led obliquely upward to some subterranean tombs, whence\na steep passage extended to one of the lower terraces. In this passage\nLyrcus had had steps hewn in order to secure a secret descent to the\nplain, and for farther concealment he had ordered bushes to be planted\noutside of the cave.\n\nThough the Cychreans on the whole were in good spirits, they found\nthemselves in a serious mood as the decisive hour approached. Lyrcus,\nat his first leisure moment, had assured Byssa that the Pelasgians\nwould be received in such a way that not a single man could set foot on\nthe open space before the houses. The young wife silently embraced him;\nher eyes were full of tears and she could not speak. She trusted her\nhusband implicitly, but nevertheless was deeply moved.\n\n\u201cBefore the sun goes down,\u201d she thought, \u201cmany an eye will be closed.\nAnd what will be Lyrcus\u2019 fate?\u201d\n\n\nVII.\n\nThe greater portion of the night passed quietly. They saw the\nPelasgians light fires in a semi-circle around the cliff and noticed\nthe smell of roasted meat. Songs and laughter were heard, and with the\nfires a thicket of spears seemed to have grown out of the earth.\n\nOn the cliff itself deep silence reigned. Yet a strange crackling sound\nechoed upon the night, and the wind brought a light mist and a smell of\nburning. Soon after a red cloud rose into the air and from lip to lip\nran the shout:\n\n\u201cThe store-house is on fire!\u201d\n\nWas it some foolhardy Pelasgian or one of the new-made bondmen who\nhad set it in flames? In any case the task had been no easy one. The\nstore-house, like the dwellings, had been hewn out of the cliff and\ncontained nothing combustible except seeds and the timbers on which\nthe roof rested. Nevertheless, the flames spread swiftly, when the\nfire first reached the air, and a part of the roof fell. Vast lurid\nclouds of smoke whirled aloft and, as usual when seeds are burning,\nnumberless showers of sparks rose with the smoke and fell back again to\nthe earth in a fine rain. Suddenly, just as the fallen timbers burst\ninto a blaze, a lofty column of fire shot up from the roof. The Hill\nof the Nymphs, the Areopagus, and the height known in later times as\nthe Acropolis were illumined by a crimson glow, and the whole Pelasgian\narmy broke into exulting shouts.\n\nSome of the boldest came nearer, and an old bow-legged simpleton,\nridiculously equipped with a gigantic helmet and an enormous club,\nstrode toward the cliff, where he made a movement as though he was\nsetting his foot on the neck of a conquered foe.\n\nAt this defiance a young Cychrean seized his bow and arrow.\n\n\u201c_Rhai--bo--ske--l\u0113s!_ Bow-legs!\u201d he shouted, his voice echoing far\nover the plain, \u201cwhere did you get your shield?\u201d\n\nThe bow-string twanged--and the old man just as he took flight fell\nbackward to the ground.\n\nThe Cychreans clapped their hands and uttered loud shouts of joy.\n\nAt the sight of the old man\u2019s fall--he was probably a chief--a\nbloodthirsty yell ran through the ranks of the Pelasgians. A long word,\nrendered unintelligible by the distance, flew from mouth to mouth till\nit suddenly rang out clearly and distinctly like a command.\n\n\u201c_Sphendon\u0113tai!_ Slingers!\u201d\n\nForth from the dark throng gathered around the fires marched a body of\nmen who had nothing but a sheep-skin around their hips. They formed in\ntwo rows facing the cliff, a score of paces intervening between the\nranks, and the same distance between man and man.\n\nAmong a pastoral race like the Pelasgians the sling was an\nindispensable implement. It served to keep the herds together; for\nwhen a goat or any of the cattle had been hit once or twice by a stone\nfrom a sling the shepherd-dog noticed it and kept a strict watch upon\nthe animal. By skill in the use of the sling the herdsman thus saved\nhimself the trouble of running after the beasts which strayed away from\nthe flocks, and in a mountainous region like Attica, where one can\nscarcely walk a few hundred paces without going up or down, it is well\nto spare the legs.\n\nThe sling itself was very simple. It consisted merely of two woollen\ncords half an ell long and about as thick as the finger, fastened at\neach corner of a piece of leather shaped like a lance-head, with a hole\nin the middle to hold the stone firmly. The art of using the implement\nconsisted in letting one cord drop at the moment the stone was in the\nright curve to reach the mark.\n\nThe men with the sheep-skins round their loins collected stones from\nthe ground and hurled them towards the cliff, until they ascertained\nthe distance--then they took them from the pouches they carried\nsuspended by a leather thong over their shoulders. These stones, of\nwhich each man carried twelve or fourteen, weighed about eight pounds.\nAfterwards bullets the size of a hen\u2019s egg were used and these bullets,\nmarked with the Hellenic stamp, are still found on the plain of\nMarathon.\n\nSuddenly a deafening clatter resounded upon the Cychreans\u2019 cliff from\nthe stones which beat against the houses and fell back on the hard\nground. Soon shrieks of pain blended with the din and Lyrcus perceived\nwith alarm that his people were being badly wounded as, under the hail\nof stones from above, heads were bruised or shoulder-joints injured.\n\nThe youth who had felled the old chieftain again seized his bow, but\nLyrcus dashed it from his hands.\n\n\u201cLuckless wight!\u201d he said, \u201cour bows do not reach half so far as their\nslings. Do you want to show them it is so?\u201d\n\nAfter hurriedly stationing sentinels where there was any shelter, he\nordered his men to retreat into the houses. But even there they were\nnot safe; for when one or more stones struck a roof whose timbers were\nnot new, it fell wholly or in part, wounding men, women, and children.\nThe cliff soon echoed with wails and shrieks of pain, and the deafening\nrattle of the shower of stones was gradually weakening the Cychreans\u2019\ncourage, the more so because they were unable to defend themselves.\n\nThen Lyrcus, who had mounted guard himself, saw a small body of men\napproaching from the Pelasgian camp, evidently to reconnoitre. They\nmoved along the cliff about a bow-shot off for some time, quietly\nallowing the stones from the slings to fly over them. Suddenly one who\nmarched at the head of the band raised a large conch horn to his lips,\nsounding three long, shrill notes, and a great bustle arose among the\nPelasgians.\n\nFive or six hundred men gathered in front of the camp and hastily\nformed in ranks. Leaders were heard firing their zeal and issuing\norders. Then they ran at full speed towards the cliff, where the spies,\nholding their shields over their heads, were already trying to show\nthe advancing soldiers the places most easy to ascend.\n\nAt the moment the dark figures in their goat-skin garments and hoods\nset foot on the cliff, the hail of stones ceased. The Cychreans now\ncame out of their houses and went to the heaps of stones piled on the\nsteps. Though the fire of the store-house was beginning to die away,\nthe lurid flames still afforded sufficient light to show the Pelasgians\ntheir way. When Lyrcus saw that they had scaled part of the height, he\ngave orders to hurl the stones down. The Cychreans set to work eagerly;\nrock after rock rolled down, bounding from one boulder to another.\nAgain loud shrieks of pain arose, but this time from the Pelasgians,\nmany of whom missed their footing, plunged downward, and were mangled\nby the fall.\n\nNevertheless, many of them, partly by escaping the stones and partly by\nprotecting themselves with their shields, succeeded in approaching the\nopen terrace of the crag unhurt. Here the Cychreans rushed upon them,\nbut they defended themselves with the obstinacy of men who have a steep\ncliff behind them. For a long time the battle remained undecided--then\nthe Cychrean women hastened to the aid of the men. They flung ashes and\nsand into the Pelasgians\u2019 eyes, and some finally used heavy hand-mills\nfor weapons. Nay, lads of twelve and fourteen followed their mothers\u2019\nexample and armed themselves with everything on which they could lay\nhands.\n\nWhen Lyrcus perceived that the battle was raging violently he turned\ntowards the burning store-house and, seeing that the fire was nearly\nout, he laughed and exclaimed: \u201cI\u2019ll risk it.\u201d Then, collecting the\nmen who could be spared, he led them by torchlight through the covered\npassage to the plain. Here, under cover of the darkness, he stole\nwith his soldiers behind the Pelasgians\u2019 camp and, while the latter\nwere gazing intently towards the cliff to see whether the attack was\nsuccessful, the Cychreans uttered a loud war cry and unexpectedly\nassailed them in the rear.\n\nLyrcus, as usual, wore his wolf-skin robe and a hood of the same\nfur on which, by way of ornament, he had left the animal\u2019s ears--an\nappendage that gave his head-gear a peculiarly fierce appearance. By\nthe uncertain light of the fires many of the Pelasgians recognized him\nby the hood with the wolf\u2019s ears, and soon the cry was heard:\n\n\u201cLyrcus is upon us! Fly from Lyrcus!\u201d Then began a flight so headlong\nthat many of the soldiers thus taken by surprise did not even give\nthemselves time to pull their spears out of the ground.\n\nJust at that moment a chief in a copper helmet, breast-plate, greaves,\nand shield, sprang from behind a rock, threw himself like a madman\nbefore the fugitives and wounded several with his spear.\n\n\u201cPeriphas!\u201d shouted Lyrcus, hurling his lance at him. But the Pelasgian\nparried it with his shield, and at the same instant its edge was cleft\nby the weapon he stooped behind the rattling pieces. The ash-spear\nwhizzed over his head, ruffling his hair.\n\n\u201cSo near death!\u201d he thought, and an icy chill ran through bone and\nmarrow.\n\nLyrcus drew his sword; but a throng of fugitives pressed between him\nand Periphas--he saw the latter\u2019s glittering helmet whirled around and\nswept away by the stream of men.\n\nAt the name of Lyrcus the alarm spread from watch-fire to watch-fire.\nJust at that moment a loud shriek of terror arose from those who had\nclimbed the Cychreans\u2019 cliff, for when the glow of the flames from the\nburning store-house had died away they were forced in the darkness over\nthe verge of the bluff. This shriek hastened the Pelasgians\u2019 flight;\nthey instantly perceived that they could expect no help from their\ncomrades.\n\nLyrcus, fearing that the enemy might discover how small his band was,\nsoon checked the pursuit, and when his people on the way home vied with\neach other in lauding him as conqueror, he replied:\n\n\u201cIt was their mistake that they used fire as a torch to scale the\ncliff; for when the flames died down they were suddenly left in thick\ndarkness with the foe in front and a steep bluff behind.... I, for my\npart, put my trust in the darkness, under whose cover I surprised the\nPelasgians, and the darkness did not deceive me as their flames deluded\nthem.\u201d\n\n\nVIII.\n\nDuring the first few days after the unsuccessful attack Periphas, from\nfear of the Cychreans, concealed himself in a cave in Mt. Hymettus. It\nwas known only by the herdsman who brought him his provisions, and the\nfurniture consisted of some goat-skin coverlids, a hand-mill, a few\nclay vessels, and a stone hearth.\n\nOne sultry afternoon when the sun shone into the cavern Periphas was\nlying almost naked behind a block of stone at the entrance. Before him\nstood a youth with curling black hair and a deer-skin thrown around\nhis loins. Nomion was the son of a neighboring chieftain, and had been\nTydeus\u2019 friend from boyhood.\n\nBoth looked grave, nay troubled; they were talking about the Cychreans\nand Tydeus\u2019 murder.\n\n\u201cI believe you are mistaken,\u201d said Nomion. \u201cLyrcus had nothing to do\nwith the matter. Tydeus fell in a broil; his refusal to serve the\nCychreans irritated them and made them furious. Each threw a stone and\nwounded him until the hapless youth drew his last breath. It was like a\nswarm of bees attacking a mule; no single bee can be said to kill it,\neach one merely gives its little sting--but the animal dies of them.\u201d\n\nPeriphas shook his head.\n\n\u201cI know better,\u201d he answered. \u201cLyrcus hates me and all my race. Did I\nnot woo Byssa?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d persisted Nomion, who as the son of a chief used greater\nfreedom of speech in addressing Periphas than most others would have\nventured to do. \u201cIf Lyrcus was the murderer, how could he enter the\nplaces of assembly before the houses and move about among the other\nCychreans? Who will associate with an assassin? Are not trials in all\ncases of murder, according to ancient custom, held under the open sky\nthat neither accusers nor judges may be beneath the same roof with the\nslayer?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know,\u201d muttered Periphas with a sullen glance, \u201cthat a murderer is\nunclean.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot merely unclean--but under a double ban. The victim\u2019s and the wrath\nof the gods. Shall the murdered soul wander away from light and life\nwithout demanding a bloody vengeance? And the gods--to whom murder is\nan abomination--shall they forbear to practise righteous retribution?\u201d\n\nPeriphas, averting his face, remained silent.\n\n\u201cForgive me!\u201d exclaimed Nomion, \u201cI forgot that you yourself....\u201d\n\n\u201cThe soothsayer,\u201d--said Periphas, lowering his voice, \u201cyes, he fell\nbefore my spear. But he was rightly served. Did not the fool proclaim\naloud, in the presence of all, what he ought to have confided to me\nalone?\u201d\n\n\u201cYet it was a murder.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, my friend, believe me, it was something very different from their\ncrime. Don\u2019t you know, Nomion, that no Pelasgian owns larger herds than\nI--well! If I have offended the gods, no one has brought them more\nnumerous and costly offerings. Besides, I went directly to Kranaai and\ncaused Ariston to purify me, according to priestly fashion, from the\nstain of blood. As for the dead man\u2019s family--I appeased them long ago\nwith costly gifts.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut--the disposition?\u201d asked Nomion, looking Periphas straight in the\neye.\n\n\u201cThe disposition!\u201d replied Periphas, shunning Nomion\u2019s glance. \u201cYouth,\nyou utter strange words. When neither gods nor men complain, who asks\nabout the disposition?\u201d\n\nAnd Periphas burst into a strange, forced laugh, that echoed almost\nuncannily through the cave.\n\n\u201cBe that as it may,\u201d said Nomion. \u201cIf the Cychreans suffer murderers\nto live among them unpunished, will not they, too, will not the whole\nnation be unclean and exposed to the wrath of the gods?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems so.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet the Cychreans remain victors, while we, Tydeus\u2019 avengers, are\nscattered like chaff before the wind. What is the cause?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps their gods are stronger than ours.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe sea-nymph Melite stronger than Zeus Hypsistos! You cannot believe\nthat.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps we ought to have waited for a lucky day.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d retorted Nomion, \u201cI believe that Lyrcus conquered because he has\ndone no evil. He is a warlike fellow and foremost in the fray, so he\ncannot content himself with carrying away goats, barley, figs, and\nhoney. But he has never killed a man except in fair fight. Had he been\npresent, Tydeus would never have been stoned.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have a remarkably good opinion of Lyrcus,\u201d said Periphas. \u201cBut why\ntalk about this Cychrean continually? There are other chiefs in the\ncountry.... Well! We\u2019ll see whether the gods will protect him another\ntime.\u201d\n\n\u201cPeriphas! What are you planning?\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you know the pretty bird whose name is Kitta? It loves its mate so\ndearly that it cannot live without it. Let the hen be caught in the\nnest by some simple snare, and the cock will fly after her of its own\naccord and allow itself to be captured.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the name of the gods! Do I understand you? Do you mean to steal\nByssa?\u201d\n\n\u201cDoesn\u2019t she seem to you worth having? Well, by Zeus,\u201d continued\nPeriphas, the blood mounting into his cheeks, \u201cI would rather carry her\naway than goats, barley, figs, and honey.\u201d\n\n\u201cBeware, Periphas! Don\u2019t drive Lyrcus to frenzy. He will then be\ncapable of anything.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot when he is in _my_ power.\u201d\n\n\nIX.\n\nAt the foot of the heights of Agrae, a part of Mt. Hymettus, the\nchannel of the Ilissus widens. The river here divides into two arms,\nwhich enclose a level island. At the place where the branches meet the\nbanks form a bluff with two pits; here, trickling between the layers of\nstone, excellent drinking water collects in such abundance as to form a\npond. It is the fountain of Callirho\u00eb (beautiful spring) and is used at\nthe present day as a pool for washing.\n\nAt the time of this story Callirho\u00eb was the place from which the wives\nand daughters of the Cychreans, as well as the Cranai, brought water\nwhen the little wells on the cliffs were exhausted. The fountain of\nClepsydra was considerably nearer; but as the name (water that steals\nforth) implies, it was too scanty to supply two colonies. Therefore\nthe people were obliged to fetch water from the banks of the Ilissus,\nmore than two thousand feet off, in a desolate tract of country called\nAgrae. The journey was not wholly free from peril, for the Pelasgians\nroving over Mt. Hymettus considered the pool their own and looked\naskance at all others who sought to use it. Women had often been\nmolested there and several times even abducted. Therefore it had become\nthe custom for the women and girls to go to the fountain in parties,\nand to be accompanied by armed men. But several years had now elapsed\nsince any one had been molested, and the guard of men was beginning to\nbe rather careless. Instead of weapons, many of the younger ones took\nthe implements of the chase and amused themselves by snaring hares,\ngreat numbers of which were found in this region.\n\nThe trip to the fountain on the whole was a pleasure excursion. With\nthe faculty for making life easy and pleasant possessed by all southern\nnations, the time was well-chosen. In the first place the party started\nin the afternoon; the sun was then behind them and when they returned\nit was hidden below Mt. Corydallus. One of the older men took a syrinx\nor a flute; the young fellows jested with the pretty maids and matrons,\nthey relieved each other in carrying the water-jars, laughter and song\nresounded, sometimes they even danced in long lines on the open ground\nbeside the pool.\n\nA few days after the conversation between Periphas and Nomion in the\ncave on Mt. Hymettus one of these expeditions was made. After the\nrecent victory there was two-fold mirth, and the party could be heard\nfor a long distance amid the rural stillness of the country bordering\nthe Ilissus. At the first sound of the notes of the flute and the merry\nvoices something stirred in the bushes on the crag just below the\nfountain of Callirho\u00eb. Two sunburnt hands pushed the branches aside\nand a brown visage appeared, of which, however, little could be seen,\nas a goat-skin hood was drawn low over the brow. Periphas--for it was\nhe--saw from his hiding-place the women approaching between a double\nrow of men.\n\n\u201cThere they are!\u201d he said to Nomion, who lay concealed behind him.\n\u201cWhat do you say to the plot? First the wife, then the husband.\nTo-morrow morning, perhaps to-night, Lyrcus will be in our power. Will\nyou help me?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, by Zeus, no!\u201d replied Nomion firmly. \u201cOn the contrary, I will\nwarn you again. Consider, Periphas! Don\u2019t throw the last anchor upon\ntreacherous ground. It ill-beseems the younger man to advise the\nolder--may Zeus open your eyes while there is yet time.\u201d\n\n\u201cBegone to the vultures, foolish boy!\u201d cried Periphas angrily. \u201cYou use\nsword and lance like a man. But where is your courage?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the gods, it isn\u2019t courage I lack,\u201d replied Nomion, as he let\nhimself slide down the precipice and vanished among the hills.\n\nMeantime the party had come nearer. Suddenly there was a movement in\nthe last rank and the joyous shout: \u201cA hare! A hare!\u201d Without losing a\nmoment the youths divided into two bands who, with long poles in their\nhands, tried to drive the animal towards some snares set at the end of\nthe valley. The older ones convinced themselves that no Pelasgians were\nin sight, and then slowly followed to witness the result of the chase.\n\nHad Lyrcus been present, this would not have happened; but he had\nremained at home to forge some weapons.\n\n\nX.\n\nThe women, who were left to themselves by the men\u2019s zeal for the\nchase, went to the pool and set down their water-jars. The barren,\ndreary region, where usually nothing was seen except a few goats\nand shepherds, now swarmed with young Cychrean women in white\nand variegated robes. Most of them stood talking together by the\npond--some, weary and breathless, stretched themselves on the mossy\nbank of the river; others wiped the dust from their limbs with dry\nleaves; many gathered flowers in the shade, others waded out into the\nstream to cool their feet in the shallow, but clear and inviting water.\n\nPeriphas, from his hiding-place, saw them all, yet among the whole\nparty his eye sought only one.\n\nByssa was sitting near the pool among some young matrons of her own\nage. She had removed her sandals, and while he was watching her, rested\nher foot on her knee to examine a scratch she had received from the\nstones on the way. A young woman, whose appearance indicated that she\nwas about to become a mother, approached with her arms full of flowers\nand, smiling, flung them all into Byssa\u2019s lap, whispering something in\nher ear as if it were to be kept a secret from the very stones. Byssa\nflushed crimson and snatched up one of the sandals lying by her side to\nmake a feint of punishing her friend; but, as she raised her arm, the\nsandal slipped from her hand and flew far out in the water.\n\nThere was a general outburst of screams and laughter.\n\nByssa started up, shaking all the flowers from her lap on the ground,\nhastily gathered up the folds of her garments, and waded out into the\nstream. But the current had already swept the sandal into somewhat\ndeeper water, so that, to avoid being wet, she was obliged to lift her\nclothes above her knees. She soon perceived that the task was not so\neasy. Every time she stretched out her hand she was baffled. The little\nwhirlpools in the stream played sportively with their prize; each\nmoment they bore the sandal under their light foam, and when it again\nappeared it was in an entirely different place from where its owner\nexpected.\n\nA cold wind was blowing and Byssa, like many of her companions, wore a\ngoat-skin bodice. As she had become heated by the long walk she allowed\nit to hang loosely about her, and every time the pretty Cychrean bent\nforward to grasp the sandal, Periphas\u2019 gaze could take a dangerous\nliberty.\n\nOf all the materials that can be used for clothing, nothing displays\nbetter than fur the smoothness and fairness of a woman\u2019s form. At\nthe sight of the beautiful shoulders and still more exquisite bosom\nrising from the rough, blackish-brown skin Periphas\u2019 eyes dilated,\nand when Byssa\u2019s movements, ere she succeeded in seizing the sandal,\nrevealed more and more of her nude charms, the half-savage Pelasgian\u2019s\npassionate heart kindled.\n\nHe cast a hurried glance towards the spot where the men had vanished\nand, as he neither saw nor heard anything, he took a large green leaf\nbetween his lips to hide the lower part of his face, drew his hood down\nto his eyes, burst suddenly out of the bushes and leaped from the\nshore into the stream.\n\nThe women, shrieking with terror, instantly sprang to their feet.\n\nBut Periphas paid no heed. Seizing Byssa, who was paralyzed by\nsurprise, in his arms, he bore her, spite of her struggles, to the\nshore. Like all well-developed women she was no light burden and,\nnotwithstanding the Pelasgian\u2019s strength, he felt that it would be\nimpossible for him to carry her up the steep bank and therefore put her\ndown, though without releasing his hold on her arm. But Byssa no sooner\nfelt the solid earth under her feet than her senses returned.\n\n\u201cHelp! Help!\u201d she screamed. \u201cShall we fear this one man? Are we not\nstrong enough to capture him?\u201d\n\nAnd, following words by action, she boldly grasped the Pelasgian\u2019s belt\nwith her left hand, which was free.\n\n\u201cQuick! quick!\u201d she added. \u201cOnly hold him a moment--the men will return\ndirectly.\u201d\n\nByssa\u2019s courage produced its effect. The women hurried towards her from\nall sides; yet the nearest gave themselves considerably more time than\nthose who were farther away.\n\nPeriphas perceived that his position was very critical. Without\nreleasing Byssa\u2019s arm, he drew his sword.\n\n\u201cBeware!\u201d he shouted fiercely, \u201cI\u2019ll hew down on the spot the first one\nwho approaches.\u201d\n\nAnd, as Byssa still did not loosen her grasp from his belt, he muttered\nbetween his teeth.\n\n\u201cFollow me, or by Zeus....\u201d He did not finish the sentence, but his\nsinister glance left no doubt of his meaning.\n\nByssa trembled, for she thought of the soothsayer of whose death she\nhad heard.\n\n\u201cYou are the stronger!\u201d she said, and allowed herself to be led up the\nbank without resistance.\n\nAt the top Periphas turned and shouted:\n\n\u201cWomen, the first one who shows herself here I\u2019ll give up to my\nbondmen.\u201d\n\nBut the Pelasgian had nothing more to fear. The sight of the naked\nsword had banished the women\u2019s courage.\n\nHe now carried Byssa among some small hills, where a low, two-wheeled\nvehicle, drawn by two horses, was waiting under the charge of a slave.\n\u201cGet in!\u201d said Periphas imperiously, then, to render her more yielding,\nadded: \u201cNo harm shall befall you! I only want you to serve me as a\nhostage.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will obey,\u201d replied Byssa, \u201cbut on condition that you don\u2019t lay\nhands on me again.\u201d\n\nShe took her place in the front of the chariot, resting both hands on\nthe top. Periphas grasped the reins, dismissed the slave by a sign,\nbraced his feet firmly against the inner foot-board and, standing\nbehind his enemy\u2019s wife, gave his steeds the rein, swung the whip--and\noff they rattled over stock and stone.\n\n\nXI.\n\nMeantime the men had wandered a considerable distance from the\nfountain. The youths succeeded in driving the hare into a snare, whose\nowner thought he had exclusive right to it, while those who had driven\nit into the trap demanded a share of the prize. When the older people\ncame up their opinions differed and, amid the dispute, they did not\nnotice the screams of the women, especially as they often shrieked in\nsport when they splashed water upon each other.\n\nSuddenly a very young girl, scarcely beyond childhood, came running\ntowards them, beckoning with agitated gestures while still a long way\noff. The men suspected that something unusual must have happened and\nhurried to meet the messenger, though without forgetting the hare.\nWeeping bitterly, she told them what had occurred.\n\nHer hearers were filled with alarm.\n\n\u201cByssa carried off!\u201d exclaimed the oldest. \u201cWoe betide us! Woe betide\nus! Curses on the hare, it is the cause of the whole misfortune.\u201d\n\nThe walk home from the fountain was very different from usual.\n\nIn those days it was not well to be the bearer of evil tidings. Lyrcus\u2019\noutbursts of fury were well known; it was also known how passionately\nhe loved Byssa, and no one felt the courage to tell him what had\nhappened. Yet it was necessary that he should hear it.\n\nThe party had almost reached the Cychrean cliff, and still no plan had\nbeen formed. But an unexpected event ended their indecision.\n\nLyrcus came to meet the returning band.\n\nHe had just finished his task of forging and, after standing in the\nheat and smoke, it was doubly pleasant to breathe the cool sea-breeze.\nHe had never felt more joyous and light-hearted.\n\n\u201cHow silent you are!\u201d he called as he advanced. \u201cHave the women lost\ntheir voices? By Pan, that would be the greatest of miracles.\u201d\n\nBut when he came nearer, seeing their troubled faces, he himself became\ngrave, and with the speed of lightning his glance sought Byssa.\n\nThe men, one by one, slunk behind the women.\n\n\u201cWhere is Byssa?\u201d said Lyrcus.\n\nNo one answered.\n\nHe now put the same question to a very young girl, who chanced to be\nthe same one who had rushed from the fountain to meet the men and\nbrought the ill-omened message.\n\nStartled by the unexpected query, she turned pale and vainly tried to\nanswer; her throat seemed choked.\n\nLyrcus seized her firmly by the arm.\n\n\u201cSpeak, luckless girl, speak!\u201d he said. \u201cWhat have you to tell?\u201d\n\nThe girl strove to collect her thoughts, and in faltering words said\nthat a Pelasgian had sprung out of the thicket and carried Byssa away.\n\nThen, falling at Lyrcus\u2019 feet, she clasped her hands over the knife he\nwore in his belt, shrieking:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t kill me. I did nothing....\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere were the men?\u201d asked Lyrcus sternly.\n\nShe was silent.\n\n\u201cWhere were the men?\u201d Lyrcus repeated, in a tone which demanded an\nanswer.\n\nThe girl clasped his knees imploringly.\n\n\u201cThey had gone hunting,\u201d she whispered almost inaudibly.\n\nSeveral minutes passed ere Lyrcus opened his lips. The men wished the\nearth would swallow them; but their chief\u2019s thoughts were already far\nfrom their negligence.\n\n\u201cWho was the Pelasgian?\u201d he asked with a calmness which, to those who\nknew him, boded danger.\n\nNo one replied.\n\nAt last the young wife who had flung the flowers into Byssa\u2019s lap\nstepped forward, drew the kneeling girl away and, without raising her\neyes to Lyrcus, said with a faint blush:\n\n\u201cNo one knew the ravisher. He held in his mouth a green leaf which\nconcealed his face. But Byssa was _forced_ to obey him or she would\nhave been killed before our eyes. He drew his sword.... Directly after\nwe heard a chariot roll away.\u201d\n\n\u201cA chief then!\u201d said Lyrcus, and without another word he returned by\nthe same way he had come.\n\nLyrcus was too good a hunter to have any doubt what he should do. Going\ndirectly home he unfastened Bremon, led him into the house, and let him\nsnuff Byssa\u2019s clothes, repeating:\n\n\u201cWhere is she? Where is Byssa?\u201d\n\nThe dog uttered a low whine, put his muzzle to the ground and snuffed\nseveral times, wagging his tail constantly as if to show that he knew\nwhat was wanted. Lyrcus buckled his sword around his waist, seized a\nspear and shield, flung a cloak over his arm and led Bremon out.\n\nThe dog fairly trembled with impatience, and without once losing the\ntrail guided Lyrcus, who held his chain, directly to the fountain of\nCallirho\u00eb.\n\nHere he followed the bank of the river a short distance but suddenly,\nas if at a loss, began to run to and fro in all directions.\n\nLyrcus released the animal but, as it constantly ran down to the bank\nand snuffed the water, the chief perceived that Byssa must have waded\nout into the stream. So he led Bremon along the shore, hoping to find\nthe place where she had come out on the land.\n\nSuddenly the dog stopped, snuffed, and began to wag his tail again.\nThis was the spot where Periphas had put Byssa down after having\ncarried her to the bank. Bremon now led Lyrcus away from the brink\namong some low hills, but here once more he began to run to and fro\nirresolutely--doubtless where Byssa had entered the chariot.\n\nMeantime night had closed in.\n\nLyrcus at first thought of getting a torch, but soon perceived the\nimpossibility of following the trail of the chariot by torch-light.\nThere was nothing to be done except to wait for morning.\n\nIt was a time of terrible torture.\n\nByssa in a stranger\u2019s power! At the thought he was seized with a frenzy\nof rage that almost stifled him. But whither should he turn? Who was\nthe ravisher--Periphas? No, he would not have had courage for such a\ndeed directly after a defeat. Besides, the abductor seemed to have gone\nin the opposite direction to the road to Periphas\u2019 home.\n\nLyrcus did not know that the Pelasgian had concealed himself in a cave\nin Mt. Hymettus.\n\n\nXII.\n\nWhile Lyrcus allowed himself to be led by Bremon, Periphas was\ncontinuing his wild career. At the foot of a distant height of Hymettus\nhe gave the chariot to a slave and ascended the mountain with Byssa,\nwho had remained perfectly silent during the whole ride.\n\nAt the entrance of the cave Periphas cast a stolen glance at her. The\nyoung wife\u2019s face was clouded and threatening; not only the expression\nof her features, but her bearing and movements showed that she was\nfilled with burning wrath. She resembled at this moment an incensed\nswan, darting along with half-spread wings, every feather ruffled in\nrage. Periphas perceived that he must try to soothe her.\n\nHe led her into a room in the cave where a clay lamp was burning and on\na large flat stone stood dishes containing barley bread, fruit, honey,\nand milk.\n\n\u201cDo not grieve, fair Byssa,\u201d he said. \u201cA man must secure himself\nagainst such a foe as Lyrcus....\u201d\n\n\u201cBy stealing women?\u201d Byssa contemptuously interrupted. \u201cIs that the\ncustom among the Pelasgians? Lyrcus carried home neither maids nor\nmatrons.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps so,\u201d replied Periphas calmly. \u201cBut the Pelasgians have made\nwar upon the Cychreans and were defeated. As one of the chiefs who took\nup arms, I have everything to fear. So I sought a hostage, and where\ncould I find a better one than the woman who is most dear to Lyrcus?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour tongue is smooth, Periphas! But I do not trust you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you fear, Byssa? Hostages are sacred; you are as secure as if\nyou were under a father\u2019s roof.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Lyrcus! Will he have no suspicion? Will he think I have been under\na father\u2019s roof?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will tell him so, and he will believe you. The inside of the cave\nis yours; no one shall molest you. You will be compelled to stay here\nonly a few days, until everything is arranged between the Pelasgians\nand Cychreans.\u201d\n\nByssa gazed sullenly into vacancy.\n\n\u201cBeware, Periphas!\u201d she said. \u201cThis will surely bring misfortune.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo you or to me?\u201d asked Periphas.\n\n\u201cThat I do not know,\u201d replied Byssa. \u201cBut one thing I _do_ know. It\nwill cause bloodshed.\u201d\n\nPeriphas shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\u201cLook,\u201d he said, pointing to a bear-skin couch, \u201cyou can rest here in\nsafety; you must be weary. May the gods grant you pleasant dreams--in\nthe morning everything will seem brighter.\u201d\n\nWith these words he left her, went to the outer part of the cavern,\npassed through the entrance, and walking several paces away clapped his\nhands.\n\nThere was a rustling sound among the huge piles of mouldering debris\nabove the cavern. A dark figure clad in skins, with a huge staff in his\nhand, stood outlined against the grey evening sky. It was the herdsman\nwho supplied the cave with provisions.\n\n\u201cHave you done what I ordered?\u201d asked Periphas. \u201cHave you put sentinels\non both sides and brought the men?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen you sound the horn, Periphas, twenty Pelasgians will hasten to\nyour aid.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo they know Lyrcus, the Cychrean?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot all of them, but some do.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well. When he comes, the men must hide until he is half-way\nbetween them. Then let him be surrounded. I will make the man rich who\nbrings me Lyrcus alive or dead. Tell the warriors so.\u201d\n\nPeriphas then entered the cave and lay down on the couch of skins\nflung behind the boulder projecting at the entrance. It was a still,\nstar-lit evening, yet spite of the peace and silence without, a\nstrange restlessness seized upon him. Sometimes he felt a presentiment\nof impending misfortune, at others he exulted in the thought of having\nByssa in his power. Thanks to the green leaf he had held in his mouth\nwhen he carried her away, none of the Cychreans had recognized him.\nBut so long as Lyrcus knew not where to turn he would not summon the\nwarriors. He would pursue his quest alone and fall into the ambush. At\nthe thought Periphas rubbed his hands and became absorbed in planning\nhow he should best humiliate his captive.\n\nThe night was far advanced ere the Pelasgian leader fell asleep. A\nstrange dream visited him. It seemed as if he were with Byssa--when he\nfelt a hand on his shoulder. The soothsayer whom he had murdered stood\nbefore him, pale and rigid, with a dark blood-stain on his white robes.\nPeriphas stretched out his hand to keep him off, touched his own body,\nfelt with horror an icy, corpse-like chill, opened his eyes, and was\nbroad awake.\n\nAs he rose he accidentally laid his hand on the boulder at the\nentrance. It was dank with the night-dew, and he again felt a chill.\n\n\u201cIt was only the rock,\u201d he muttered, with inexpressible relief.\n\nThe clear dawn brooded over the land like a soft grey gleam. The\nmountains were wrapped in clouds and vapor and the swallows were\ntwittering. Periphas breathed the fresh morning air and felt\nstrengthened and inspirited. His first thought was that in the cave,\nonly a few paces from him, he had the fairest woman in the Cychrean\ncity, the woman whom he had once wooed, and who had been given to\nanother.\n\nDoubtless she, like himself, had at last fallen asleep from weariness.\nHe must go to her, see her.\n\nWith a slight shiver, caused by emotion more than by the chill air of\nthe morning, he bound a goat-skin around his loins, buckled a belt\nabout his waist, thrust his knife into it and with bare feet stole\nnoiselessly into the cave.\n\n\nXIII.\n\nAt every step Periphas took the darkness increased, and the lamplight\nin the inner room was but a feeble substitute for the dawning day. Yet\nhe instantly distinguished the light figure which lay extended on the\nblack skin.\n\nByssa slept resting on her side, with her face half averted. Instead\nof lying on the couch wholly undressed, with her garments loosely\nthrown over her, she had, probably from fear of some nocturnal visitor,\nretained her white kirtle and spread the goat-skin bodice over her\nbreast.\n\nHolding his breath, Periphas stole to the couch with a throbbing heart.\n\nByssa\u2019s head rested on her round arm and her long black hair flowed\ndown in two streams, one behind her shoulders, the other over her\nneck, where it was lost in the swelling outlines of the bust, only\nthe upper portion of which could be seen above the shaggy edge of\nthe bodice. The troubled expression of her features had given place\nto a sweet repose, which harmonized perfectly with the unconstrained\ngrace of her recumbent attitude. Her cheeks were still somewhat paler\nthan usual, but her half-parted lips were ruddy with the freshness of\nyouth. In her slumber she had drawn her limbs under her in a peculiarly\nfeminine way, and from the sea of white folds formed by her garments\nappeared a naked foot as smooth and plump as a child\u2019s.\n\nPeriphas bent softly over the sleeper and listened to her calm, regular\nbreathing. He felt like a thief who dreads being caught, and thought\nwith terror that she might open her eyes. But when his glance fell\nupon the white foot that peeped from under the garments, he mentally\ncompared Byssa to the Pelasgian women who, according to ancient custom,\nclimbed the mountains to bring the shepherds food, and with their brown\nskins and muscular figures closely resembled beasts of burden. He could\nnot avert his gaze from the bare foot. It seemed to him a perfect\nmarvel and, even at the risk of waking Byssa, he could not refrain from\ntouching it. Slowly and cautiously extending his huge hand, he took\nhold of it as gently as if it had been a little bird.\n\nByssa started and sat erect on the couch. Half-stupefied by sleep, she\npushed her long hair back from her eyes with both hands, but scarcely\nhad she recognized the Pelasgian when with a loud shriek she thrust\nhim away.\n\n\u201cWretch!\u201d she exclaimed as she sprang up almost frantic with terror and\nfled.\n\nAt the entrance of the cave she felt herself seized and stopped. She\nturned.\n\nPeriphas was a terrible spectacle; his brown cheeks were deeply flushed\nand his eyes flashed like a wildcat\u2019s.\n\n\u201cWoman!\u201d he gasped breathlessly, in a voice tremulous with passion.\n\u201cYou are in my power ... you shall obey me.\u201d\n\nBut Byssa bent backward over his arm to get as far away from him as\npossible. At that instant, she remembered her father\u2019s parting charge:\n\u201cDo not abandon Zeus Hypsistos, that Zeus Hypsistos may not abandon\nyou.\u201d\n\nShe called loudly upon the god\u2019s name.\n\nPeriphas laughed.\n\n\u201cZeus is far away,\u201d he said.\n\nByssa gazed wildly around the cave, expecting to see Lyrcus appear\nwith spear and shield. But no living creature was visible far or\nnear--naught save clouds and mountains.\n\nAgain Periphas laughed.\n\n\u201cNo one is coming,\u201d he murmured. \u201cIf you want to be saved, help\nyourself.\u201d\n\nThe words darted into Byssa\u2019s brain like a flash of lightning.\n\nYes!--it was \u201ca voice of fate,\u201d a sign sent by the gods, an answer to\nher appeal placed in Periphas\u2019 mouth, without his suspecting it, by\nZeus himself.\n\nA thrill of emotion ran through her frame and with all the strength\nthat animates a person who believes himself acting in the name of a\ngod, she snatched the knife from the Pelasgian\u2019s belt and with the\nspeed of light drove it up to the hilt in his bare breast.\n\nPeriphas staggered back a step. He felt no special pain, he lost very\nlittle blood, yet he perceived that a change was taking place which\ncould mean nothing but death.\n\nTurning frightfully pale, he tottered and covered his eyes with both\nhands as though to escape a sight full of awe and horror.\n\n\u201cThe soothsayer!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cI see him ... in the midst of the\ndarkness.... He is stretching out his arms to clutch me.\u201d\n\nThen, with failing voice, he murmured:\n\n\u201cThat was the prediction ... that vile ... death by a woman\u2019s hand.\u201d\n\nAs he spoke, without an effort to save himself, he fell prostrate on\nthe ground behind the boulder at the entrance of the cave, clouds of\ndust whirling upward around him.\n\nByssa, so brave a few moments before, trembled from head to foot. Her\nknees could no longer support her, and she sank down on a rock at the\nother side of the entrance.\n\nHer eyes, as if by some magic spell, were fixed upon the figure behind\nthe boulder. She saw the last convulsions shake the Pelasgian\u2019s\nshoulders; she saw his hand clench in a spasmodic tremor; she saw the\nwaxen hue of a corpse spread over his body--and could not avert her\ngaze.\n\n\nXIV.\n\nHow long Byssa sat thus she knew not.\n\nShe felt neither hope nor fear; she had no distinct consciousness of\nwhat had happened.\n\nA shadow passed before the entrance of the cave; there was a howl of\njoy, and Byssa felt herself pushed against the cliff.\n\nIt was Bremon, who in delight at finding her trail at the foot of the\nmountain, had snatched his chain from Lyrcus\u2019 hand and now leaped upon\nher, overwhelming her with caresses.\n\nThe dog\u2019s affection cheered Byssa\u2019s heart; she roused herself from her\nstupor and covered the faithful animal with tears and kisses.\n\nAgain a shadow glided past the opening of the cavern.\n\nLyrcus, armed with spear and shield, stood before her, gazing wildly\nbeyond her into the cave as though his glance sought someone. Then he\nlooked searchingly into her eyes, as if he would fain read her inmost\nsoul.\n\nByssa rose--her knees no longer trembled. As though answering the\ndoubt in her husband\u2019s glance, she pointed to the Pelasgian stretched\nin the dust and said:\n\n\u201cI have killed him.\u201d\n\nA shudder ran through Lyrcus\u2019 limbs and he stared, as though unable to\ntrust his eyes, at the lifeless form lying in the darkness.\n\n\u201cByssa!\u201d he cried, stretching out his arms to embrace his wife.\n\nBut she shrank back, shrieking:\n\n\u201cNo, no, do not touch me.\u201d Then in a low tone she added: \u201cShall I go to\nMekone to be purified from the blood?\u201d\n\nFor a moment Lyrcus made no answer, then he replied:\n\n\u201cNo. Go to your father. It was a righteous murder.\u201d\n\nWhen, a short time after, they left the cave Lyrcus lingered behind\nand, unnoticed by his wife, drew the murderous weapon from the wound\nand thrust it into his own belt.\n\nScarcely had Bremon followed the pair out, ere in his joy, he leaped\nand danced around them, barking with all his might.\n\nInstantly the whole mountain seemed to be alive. The loose stones above\nthe cave rattled again and, urged by some dark foreboding, Periphas\u2019\nfaithful herdsman hastily descended. At the same time, from the nearest\nchasm on each side, emerged half a score of armed men, yawning, rubbing\ntheir eyes, and straightening their skin cloaks, as if suddenly roused\nfrom sleep.\n\nThe shepherd entered the cave, but instantly came out again, looking\nvery pale and troubled, as pointing to the two retreating figures he\nshouted wrathfully:\n\n\u201cSeize them! They have killed him ... with his own knife.\u201d\n\nThe sleepy Pelasgians opened their eyes and several recognized the\nCychrean leader.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s Lyrcus!\u201d they shouted to the other party.\n\n\u201cLet us surround him,\u201d was the reply.\n\nThe men approached from both sides and speedily formed a circle around\nthe departing pair. At each step they took the ring grew smaller.\nBremon noticed the danger, showed his teeth, growled, and no longer\nwandered away from his master.\n\n\u201cKeep close behind me, wife,\u201d said Lyrcus.\n\nAnd, to obtain greater freedom of movement, he took off his upper\ngarment and flung it to her. Then, crouching slightly behind his\nshield, he waited until the difficulty of marching on the uneven\nsurface of the mountain should make a breach in the Pelasgians\u2019 circle.\n\n\u201cFollow me!\u201d he called to Byssa, and set off at a run, but to give her\ntime did not go at full speed and, ere he knew it, he was surrounded.\n\nWith the courage given by superior strength Lyrcus now tried to fight\nhis way through. He felled two Pelasgians to the earth, and Bremon\nfuriously attacked two others and made them unfit for combat. But the\npoor dog was soon killed, and Lyrcus needed all his skill in the use of\narms to defend himself.\n\nJust at that moment a loud shout was heard close at hand.\n\n\u201cHold! In the name of the gods, hold!\u201d\n\nA youth in full armor suddenly forced his way to Lyrcus and covered him\nwith his own body.\n\n\u201cPelasgians!\u201d he cried, \u201cso brave a warrior ought not to die thus ...\none against many.\u201d\n\nLyrcus\u2019 assailants let their weapons fall and looked around them in\nsurprise. They were already outflanked by the young chieftain\u2019s men.\n\nSeveral raised their voices:\n\n\u201cThis Cychrean has killed Periphas.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it,\u201d replied the youth; \u201cI heard the shepherd call to you. But\nPeriphas fell by his own deeds. He stole this man\u2019s wife.\u201d\n\nLyrcus had thrust his spear into the ground and used his sword when\nhis assailants pressed upon him. He now drew it out and approached the\nyoung leader.\n\n\u201cWho are you, youth?\u201d he asked in surprise; for he perceived by the\nnew-comers\u2019 arms and dress that they were Pelasgians.\n\n\u201cMy name is Nomion,\u201d the young man answered: \u201cI am a son of Hyllus,\nsurnamed \u2018the old.\u2019 Ten days ago he gave me the command of our tribe.\nA few hours after I assembled the other chiefs to hold a council. My\nmost ardent desire is to establish peace and friendship between the\nPelasgians and Cychreans.\u201d\n\nLyrcus shook his head.\n\n\u201cIt will be no easy task. There is blood between us.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can smooth over Periphas\u2019 murder,\u201d said Nomion, \u201cbut Tydeus\u2019\nassassination is a harder matter. How did he perish?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe fell in a popular brawl one day when I was away fishing.\u201d\n\nNomion nodded with a look of satisfaction.\n\n\u201cI thought that you were absent,\u201d he said.\n\nThen, turning to his men, he shouted in a loud voice:\n\n\u201cThis Cychrean and his wife are free. They can go where they list.\u201d\n\n\nXV.\n\nThe day was far advanced when Lyrcus and his wife reached Kranaai.\nWeighed down by the sin of murder, Byssa could not enter the places\nof general assembly and it was only with difficulty and by circuitous\npaths that she approached the house of her father, the priest Ariston.\n\nThe outer room was empty--Byssa entered and silently seated herself\nbeside the hearth. Lyrcus thrust the bloody knife he had brought from\nthe cave into the earth at her feet.\n\nThen he turned to go; but ere he did so fixed his eyes on Byssa with a\nhalf-anxious, half-pitying look. He would gladly have extended his hand\nto her, uttered a word of encouragement. But he dared not. A fugitive\nmurderer, until the rite of purification had been performed, was like a\nperson plague-stricken.\n\nLyrcus silently departed. Byssa hid her face in her hands, tears\ntrickled through her fingers.\n\nAs she sat there quietly she heard the business of the household\npursuing its usual course. Her father was whetting his sacrificial\nknife, her mother was busying herself with the hand-mill, and the\nfemale slave was chopping wood outside. Then her mother began to hum a\nhymn:\n\n    Zeus Ombrius, we pray thee\n    Gentle, fruitful rain to send,\n    Bless, refresh our native country,\n    Bid the torturing drought to end.\n\nHow well Byssa knew those notes! Her whole soul yearned for her\nparents--and now she must cause them so great a sorrow.\n\nShe dreaded the moment when her father would enter and see her sitting\nby the hearth, crime-stained and unclean. How gladly she would have\nwarned him, that the surprise and shame might not kill the old man! But\na single word from her lips might bring misfortune.\n\nSo she remained sitting silently, hiding her face with both hands. Then\nshe heard a rustling, and a peculiar dry cough told her that her father\nhad entered.\n\nA convulsive shudder ran through her limbs. She dared not raise her\neyes.\n\nAriston had come to put a vessel used to hold offerings in its place in\na recess in the wall. He was clad in a grey garment, worn when he was\noccupied in the house. As he held the dish up to the light to see if it\nwas bright his glance rested upon Byssa.\n\nAt the sight of his daughter, sitting humbly beside the hearth, he\nstared at her as though she were some terrible vision in a dream or a\nspectre risen from Hades. He could not believe what he beheld--then he\nperceived the knife thrust into the earth at her feet.\n\nHis face blanched almost as white as his snowy beard, the vessel fell\nfrom his hand, and he stood for a moment as though turned to stone.\nThen he pressed both hands on his breast.\n\n\u201cHorrible!\u201d he faltered. \u201cByssa ... my gentle Byssa ... has shed blood!\u201d\n\nByssa\u2019s mother, Strybele, appeared in the doorway. Uttering a loud cry,\nshe rushed with outstretched arms toward her daughter.\n\nAriston hastily stepped between them.\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d he said, and with resolute authority led his wife out of the\nroom.\n\n\u201cAriston,\u201d whispered the poor mother, \u201cutter no curses, no evil words.\nRemember, she is your daughter.\u201d\n\nWhen Ariston returned he was clad in his priestly robes. A long white\ngarment fell to his feet, and he wore around his brow a chaplet.\n\nHe approached Byssa. In the deep stillness of the house the mother was\nheard sobbing and praying within.\n\nAriston, raising his voice, said with great solemnity:\n\n\u201cZeus was, Zeus is, and Zeus will be; oh, supreme god Zeus! In thy\nname, Catharsius, cleanser from all guilt, in thy name Meilichius,\nall-merciful one, I say to ... this woman....\u201d\n\nAt the last word his voice trembled.\n\n\u201cThis is thy command, oh Zeus. Purification shall be given to him who\ncomes humbly to ask for purification. No one must ask his name, no one\nmust inquire the name of him who is slain; for it is seemly to keep\nsilence in the presence of the unclean. But no one, neither man nor\nwoman, shall refuse to yield him the blessing of purification.\u201d\n\nAriston then brought the animal to be sacrificed, a tiny sucking-pig.\nThe blood flowed from a wound in the neck.\n\nAt the sight of the red stream he fixed an accusing glance on his\ndaughter\u2019s head and then raised his eyes to Heaven, as though seeking\nrefuge from inexpressible agony.\n\n\u201cWoman,\u201d he murmured, \u201cprepare!\u201d\n\nByssa stretched out her arms.\n\nAriston held the animal before her and let the blood stream down over\nher hands, repeating in a low voice:\n\n\u201cBlood expiates blood.\u201d\n\nThen he brought a basin of consecrated water in which Byssa\u2019s mother,\nto strengthen its effect, had placed a brand from the altar before the\nhouse.\n\nInvoking Zeus as the god of purification and the guardian of those who\nprayed, he washed Byssa\u2019s hands and arms. When this was accomplished\nhe burned the cakes and other offerings, first pouring on them as a\nlibation water mixed with honey--meantime praying that Zeus would\nrestrain the wrath of the goddess of vengeance and show himself\nmerciful and gracious.\n\nThen, taking Byssa\u2019s hand, he drew her up from the hearth.\n\n\u201cMy daughter,\u201d he said, \u201cthe blood is expiated and the uncleanness\nwashed away with consecrated water. Thou art no longer an outcast,\nodious to the gods. Thou canst again enter the places of assemblage and\nthe temples consecrated to the deities; thou canst once more mingle\namong thy companions, amid bond and free. But this is not all. Now that\nthou hast obtained the forgiveness of the gods, thou must be answerable\nto men....\u201d\n\nStrybele anxiously entered, approached Ariston, and seized his arm.\n\n\u201cWhat will be done to her?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cJustice.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill she be punished?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, if she has sinned.\u201d\n\nWith these words Ariston led his daughter into the inner room. A\ncold perspiration stood on his brow, and the muscles around his lips\nquivered. He who had cleansed Byssa from blood did not yet know\n_whose_ blood she had shed.\n\n\u201cSpeak!\u201d he said, \u201cand conceal nothing from us.\u201d\n\nStrybele silently pressed her daughter\u2019s hand.\n\nByssa raised her calm black eyes to her father\u2019s face and answered:\n\n\u201cI have nothing to conceal.\u201d\n\nThen she related the expedition to the fountain, the abduction, and\nthe stay in the cave on Mt. Hymettus. But when she spoke of her appeal\nto Zeus and the sacred tremor with which, as swiftly as the lightning,\nshe had obeyed the god\u2019s sign, Ariston\u2019s eyes sparkled and, bending low\nwith his arms folded on his breast, he said:\n\n\u201cZeus deserts no one. But praised be thou, my daughter, for having\nheard the god\u2019s voice. In saving yourself, you slew the Cychreans\u2019 foe.\nThe nation to which thy husband belongs owes thee thanks and honor.\u201d\n\nStrybele pressed Byssa to her bosom and mother and daughter, clasped in\neach other\u2019s embrace, wept long together.\n\n\nXVI.\n\nAt noon Lyrcus came back to Kranaai for his wife. He found her\nreconciled to gods and men, gay and happy in the reverent admiration\nof her parents. Ariston was proud of his daughter\u2019s having received a\nsign from Zeus, and Strybele tenderly smoothed her dark hair as though\nshe were still a child.\n\nThe meeting between Lyrcus and Byssa was as touching as if there had\nbeen a long separation.\n\nOn their return to the Cychrean city they found the place of assembly\nfilled with an anxious throng. Several boys, while returning from\nbird-snaring, had seen in the distance parties of Pelasgians moving\ntowards the cliff.\n\nLyrcus carried Byssa into the house and then, hurrying to the edge of\nthe bluff, gazed out over the plain.\n\nHe had not waited long ere dark groups appeared from between the low\nhills. There were more than one chieftain\u2019s men.\n\nLyrcus was already in the act of calling his people to arms, when his\neye fell on several Pelasgians marching in front of the others and\namong them Nomion. The young chief held in his left hand an olive\nbranch and, instead of resting his lance on his shoulder he carried it\nunder his arm, with its point turned towards the earth.\n\nAt this sign of peace Lyrcus felt great relief, and the feeling was\nmuch strengthened when Nomion and his companions left their men behind\na bow-shot from the cliff.\n\nShortly after the young Pelasgian, accompanied by three or four other\nleaders, stood before Lyrcus. When he had heard their errand he sounded\nthe horn five times as a signal for the assembling of the oldest and\nmost respected men in the tribe.\n\nAfter all had met and formed a large semi-circle in the place of\nassemblage, Lyrcus stepped forward with Nomion by his side.\n\n\u201cCychreans!\u201d he shouted, \u201clisten in silence to what this stranger has\nto say.\u201d\n\nThen he asked Nomion to step on a block of stone, where he could be\nseen and heard by all.\n\nThe young Pelasgian chief had laid aside helmet, armor, spear, and\nshield. A gold circlet confined his waving black hair, and a white\ncloak with a broad yellow border fell in graceful folds a little below\nhis knees. All eyes rested with pleasure on the handsome youth.\n\n\u201cCychreans!\u201d he said in a clear, loud voice, \u201cwe Pelasgians have\ncome--if you agree--to conclude peace and form an alliance with you.\u201d\n\nA murmur of approval greeted the words; for though the Cychreans had\nrecently conquered, the horrors of war were too freshly remembered for\nthem not to prefer peace.\n\n\u201cAs you know,\u201d Nomion continued, \u201cwe live in friendship with the\nCranai. We now desire that there shall also be a good understanding\nbetween us and you. One of our chiefs, who was your bitterest foe, is\nno more. He was a rich and distinguished man, and his funeral will be\nso magnificent that it will be talked about far and wide. A huge pyre\nshall be erected for him and tall urns, filled with oil and honey,\nshall be placed at the corners of the bier; sheep and oxen, dogs and\nhorses shall be slain and burned upon the pyre. But one thing we will\nnot do--we do not mean to avenge his death. He is responsible for his\nown deeds, and it is a just punishment that he fell by a woman\u2019s hand.\nSince he had taken her for a hostage, she ought to have been sacred to\nhim.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, the youth speaks the truth!\u201d murmured the Elders, and some\napplauded him.\n\nAfter Nomion had explained his wishes more definitely and some of\nthe Elders of the Cychrean nation had spoken, both parties agreed to\nconclude peace and form an alliance for twenty years.\n\nLyrcus, with an impatient gesture, said:\n\n\u201cThen I can close my forge and break my weapons.\u201d\n\nNomion smiled.\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t mean that, Lyrcus,\u201d he replied, \u201cfor what man is mad enough\nto prefer war to peace? Is not war like a tempest or an earthquake? It\nturns everything upside down. In peace the sons bury their fathers, but\nin war fathers bury their sons.\u201d\n\nTo strengthen the compact a lamb was offered to Zeus, to the sun, and\nto the earth--to Zeus and the sun a white wether for the glittering\nmasculine divinity, but to the earth a black ewe-lamb as if to a female\ndeity that acted in secret. During the offerings prayers were addressed\nnot only to the three gods, but to the rivers and to the deities of the\nnether world who avenge perjury.\n\nFinally there was a foaming mixture prepared from Cychrean and\nPelasgian wine, and during the libation an invocation was solemnly\nrepeated.\n\n\u201cOh, Zeus! oh, Sun, oh Earth!... If any one dares to violate this\ncompact, let his brains and his children\u2019s brains be poured out on the\nground like this wine.\u201d\n\nThus they sought to secure peace.\n\nAfter the sacrifices were finished, several voices shouted:\n\n\u201cHail to Lyrcus! The honor is his--he trained us in the use of arms.\u201d\n\n\u201cHail to Byssa!\u201d cried another.\n\n\u201cHonor to Byssa, Byssa the strong and brave. She has received a sign\nfrom Zeus.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe killed the man who brought war upon us.\u201d\n\n\u201cHail to Byssa! We want to see Byssa.\u201d\n\nLyrcus smiled, yet his brows contracted in a frown. He felt half proud,\nhalf jealous.\n\nBut the shouts became so loud and persistent that he was forced to\nyield and hurried into his house.\n\nWhen he came out again, leading Byssa by the hand, every eye was fixed\nupon the pretty native of Kranaai.\n\nShe wore an ample snow-white over-garment and on her head a blue\nSidonian veil, which encircled her black hair like a wreath.\n\nHundreds of voices greeted her with the shout:\n\n\u201cHail, Byssa! Avenger of thyself and of thy people.\u201d\n\nByssa stood motionless, pale with emotion. Lyrcus made a sign that he\nwished to speak; but the people cried: \u201cNo, no, let thy wife speak.\u201d\n\nByssa blushed and lowered her eyes, but she did not lose her presence\nof mind.\n\nA death-like silence reigned over the whole place and, though Byssa\ndid not speak loudly, every word uttered by her clear, resonant voice\nreached the farthest ranks of soldiers.\n\n\u201cCychreans!\u201d she said, \u201cwomen, it seems to me, should be silent among\nmen; for only a man is fit to answer men. Yet, since you give me\nliberty to speak, know that I have only fulfilled a higher command. So\nraise your voices with me and say: Praised be the supreme god, Zeus\nHypsistos.\u201d\n\nThen a deafening shout was raised by hundreds of voices. Even the\ncliffs repeated:\n\n\u201cZeus Hypsistos.\u201d\n\nFrom that day Lyrcus never asked Byssa to accompany the other women to\nMelite\u2019s sanctuary. And when some talked of the miracles performed by\nthe goddess of the place he smiled like one who knows better and said:\n\n\u201cYet Zeus is the mightiest.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE SYCOPHANT.\n\nSECOND YEAR OF THE 89TH OLYMPIAD (423 B.C.)\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE SYCOPHANT.\n\n\nI.\n\nCallippides was universally detested in Athens. Every one knew him to\nbe one of the most dangerous informers, who lived by extorting money\nfrom people by threatening them with some ruinous impeachment.\n\nWhen he entered a workshop, a hair-dresser\u2019s, or a lesche,[C] any of\nthe places where the citizens met to discuss the incidents of the day\nor to drive a bargain, one after another stole away till he was left\nalone. If he bought a fillet from one of the pretty perfume dealers in\nthe market-place, she put his copper coins aside that they might not\nbecome mixed with the other money and so bring ill-luck to the day\u2019s\nreceipts; if he spoke in the street to a female slave who knew the\nresidents of the city she hurried off, and if he had merely laid the\ntips of his fingers on her arm, she rubbed it with the palm of her hand\nas though some poisonous reptile had touched her. If he was seen in any\none\u2019s company more than once, that person was known to be a timid man\nwho was trying to flatter and cajole him in order to be safe from him.\nIn other respects he led so solitary a life that a well-known jester,\nthe parasite Meidias, said of him that \u201cthe only thing that stood near\nhim was his shadow.\u201d\n\n                                  [C] A sort of portico, supplied with\n                                      seats, and free to all.\n\nYet there was _one_ person in Athens who valued him. This was\nPyrrhander, the Ildmand,[D] to whom he was inestimable in tracking the\nhetaeriae or secret societies and who, when Callippides was mentioned,\nused to say: \u201cHe\u2019s the best sleuth-hound in our pack.\u201d\n\n                                  [D] Ildmand--the red-haired, seems to\n                                      have been a nickname for Cleon,\n                                      who at this time was treasurer.\n                                      (Aristophanes, equites v. 901.)\n\nThe sycophant was by no means frightful in his external appearance. On\nthe contrary, he was a stately man. Of noble lineage, he had belonged\nin his youth to the select circle of the \u201cgilded youth\u201d of Athens, and\nin the company of the young Eupatridae, Proxenides and Theagenes, he\nhad squandered his ancestral property in a few years upon horses and\nchariots. At every horse and chariot race he was seen among the most\nexcited spectators. No one could say how often he had been thrown from\nhis chariot while swinging around the race-course, or how frequently\na snorting, foaming team of four horses had been driven over him. The\nlast time this had happened he had been kicked so violently on the\nhead by one of the steeds that he always bore the mark of it. He was\nso severely injured that the physician, Pittalus, had already sent a\nmessenger for the wailing women.\n\nWhen Callippides regained his health, his passion for horses and\nchariots was at an end. His fortune was expended and, like so many\nAthenians of rank before him, he now sold his last Samphora steed and\nbought the sandals of a sycophant. With this foot-covering, which made\nevery step noiseless, he stole around the market-place like a snake or\na scorpion, listened to backbiters, came behind whispering couples,\nquestioned slaves and soon became as full of unsavory secrets as a\nmarsh is full of croaking frogs. These secrets he used for his own\nprofit and the ruin of others.\n\nIn his almost deserted house in the street of the Potters not far\nfrom the Pnyx, the market, and the Prytaneum he had a strange, dismal\nroom, whose like was not to be found in Athens, and which he jestingly\ncalled his Opisthodomus, treasure-chamber. The name was no pious one\nand showed no deep reverence for the gods; for the real Opisthodomus,\nthe apartment where the treasures of the state were kept, was a sacred\nplace behind the Parthenon and was placed under the protection of\nAthene Polias, the defender of the city. But Callippides only used this\ntitle when he was talking to his faithful old Manes, a slave nearly\nseventy years old who, like the house, had been a legacy to him from\nhis ancestors.\n\nWhoever had expected to find gold and silver in Callippides\u2019\ntreasure-chamber would have been greatly mistaken.\n\nThe apartment was almost empty, the only furniture it contained being\nan old arm-chair, a sort of high seat with a foot-stool beside a little\ntable. The riches of the chamber consisted of the notes which covered\nits white walls--all written in a firm, elegant hand. They were found\nby the score, were as tersely composed as possible, and were all\naccurately marked with the day, month, and Archon\u2019s year. Over the door\nleading to the peristyle were the following inscriptions:\n\n  \u201cPOLYCLES, SON OF STRATON. _Accused of deserting from the\n  military service. Sentenced to the_ LOSS OF THE RIGHTS OF\n  CITIZENSHIP, THOUGH WITHOUT FORFEITURE OF PROPERTY.\u201d\n\n  \u201cMANTITHEUS, SON OF CTESIPHON. _Accused of secret understanding\n  with the Spartans. Ran away. Punished by the erection of a pillar\n  of infamy_ INSCRIBED WITH HIS NAME.\u201d\n\nThese and a number of other notes were written with charcoal; but\ndirectly over the entrance, in the most conspicuous place in the room,\nthere were a large collection written with red chalk and embracing the\nmost severe and terrible punishments. The first and second of these\ninscriptions ran as follows:\n\n  \u201cSTEPHANUS, SON OF EUCTEMON. _Accused of treason. Sentenced_ TO\n  DRINK THE HEMLOCK.\n\n  \u201cNAUSICRATES, SON OF GLAUCUS. _Accused of having tempted his\n  step-mother to commit adultery._ HURLED INTO THE GULF.\u201d\n\nYet in his way Callippides seemed to be an honest man, for, little as\nit might have been expected, here and there appeared a sentence whose\nresult had gone against him, as for instance:\n\n  \u201cPOLEMARCHUS, SON OF CALLIAS. _Accused of fraud. Sentenced by\n  the_ Forty _to loss of the rights of citizenship and forfeiture\n  of property. The decree_ DECLARED INVALID _by the_ dicasts of the\n  people _because founded on the deposition of a false witness_.\u201d\n\nTrue, this inscription was placed in the darkest corner, where no\none would easily seek it, and what the record did not relate was\nthat the affair had almost proved a bad one for Callippides--so bad\nthat Pyrrhander, the Ildmand, had required all his influence to save\nhim. But this concealment must be regarded as an allowable military\nstratagem.\n\nIt is certain that the \u201ctreasure-chamber\u201d rarely failed in its purpose.\nHere Callippides used to bring his victims, the unfortunates who\nwere threatened with a dangerous accusation. Scarcely did they find\nthemselves here when, on some pretext, he left them alone. As they\nread the gloomy records, read them by scores, at first with surprise,\nthen with anxiety, and finally with increasing fear, there were few who\nhad confidence in the justice of their cause. As they stood there alone\nwith throbbing hearts, quaking with dread lest everything which in a\nshort time would belong to their Past should make a fresh inscription\non these ill-boding walls, the written characters gradually began to\nrun into each other before their eyes; the red letters seemed to be\ninscribed with blood, and even firm, brave men were ready, almost\nwithout exception, to come to terms with Callippides without bargaining\nas to price, if he would only promise to let the accusation drop. In\nthis way the \u201ctreasure-chamber\u201d justified its name, there was not a\nlittle money in it.\n\nStrangely enough there was one place in the room where a whole row of\nrecords was erased, leaving only a dark stain on the white wall. It had\nhappened in this way.\n\nFrom the first the old slave, Manes, had not liked these notes. During\nthe greater part of his life he had served Philocles, Callippides\u2019\nfather. The latter had been one of the most distinguished of the\nAthenian citizens and had filled the most important offices; he had\nbeen commander of a trireme, inspector of the city walls, and member\nof the Council of Five Hundred. Messengers from tributary cities never\ncame to Athens without seeking him, to bring him costly gifts, as one\nof her principal citizens.\n\nThe room in which he used to receive them was the prettiest in the\nhouse, and richly furnished with brass tripods, ivory couches,\nmagnificent vases, and Milesian carpets.\n\nThis was the apartment of which the son, Callippides, made so unworthy\na use. Every time a new inscription was placed on the walls which to\nManes seemed so sacred he felt as though he had received a stab in his\nhonest old heart. One day, when the number had again increased, he\nplucked up courage and, without asking permission, he was beginning to\nwash the walls as if merely intending to clean the room. But he had\nscarcely commenced, when Callippides came behind him.\n\nTheir eyes met. The master looked so sharply at the servant that for\nthe first time in many years the old man\u2019s pale, wrinkled cheeks\nflushed.\n\n\u201cWell, well!\u201d said Callippides drily and, without another word, he\nseized the largest whip he had left from the time of his passion for\nhorse-racing and belabored the luckless Manes\u2019 back until the shrieking\nslave clasped his knees and begged for mercy.\n\n\u201cBlockhead!\u201d muttered Callippides, flinging the scourge into a corner,\n\u201cdon\u2019t you know that these notes are my livelihood.\u201d\n\nFrom that day the old man never meddled with the inscriptions.\n\nWhatever the \u201ctreasure-chamber\u201d brought in, Callippides had not\nsucceeded in making a new fortune. Men like him, with a restless mind\nand tireless body, only give up one passion to devote themselves to\nanother. He who, when a youth, had cared for nothing except horses and\nchariots, now, in his fortieth year, could not see a pretty hetaera\nfasten up her dress to dance without having his heart kindle with the\nmost ardent love. It was no longer Menippus, the horse-dealer, but\nPhilostratus, the go-between, with whom he had business. Just before we\nmade his acquaintance it was said that, by a written agreement, he had\nhired the key of Philostratus\u2019 garden gate for two months that he might\nbe able to steal in to visit his youngest daughter, fifteen year old\nCharixena. This bargain, in which the father had sold his daughter, was\nrumored to have cost Callippides two bright staters.[E] It was with the\nprofit of his wiles, with blood-money, that he paid for the key of the\nquiet room where Dionysus and Aphrodite, the deities of joy, were to\nreceive him.\n\n                                  [E] A stater was about 20 drachmae--at\n                                      that time a considerable sum. An\n                                      archon received for his daily pay\n                                      only 2 drachmae.\n\nBut Aphrodite did not allow herself to be mocked.\n\nBehind Callippides\u2019 house lay a garden which was in a very neglected\ncondition, so overgrown with weeds that there was scarcely an avenue\nor path, and the statue of Hermes in front of the house had fallen and\nrested on one side. An old stone seat under a tall leafy plane-tree was\nin better preservation, and here Callippides used to seek coolness and\nshade during the burning heat of noon.\n\nWhile resting there one day, half drowsily turning the leaves of a\nyellow roll of manuscript, he heard a door in the next house open\nand saw a young female slave come out to spread a carpet over a\nprettily-carved _ai\u014dra_ (swing) which was hung in the shadiest place\nbetween the pillars of the house. Directly after a little girl seven or\neight years old, dressed in white, came skipping out and was lifted on\nto the rug by the slave. But the swing had scarcely been set in motion\nbefore it began to rock unsteadily and the child, growing impatient,\nleaned back in the seat and shouted:\n\n\u201cNo, Chloris, not you! Stop, stop! My sister knows how to do it a great\ndeal better.\u201d Then the little one began to scream with all her might:\n\u201cMelitta, Melitta!\u201d\n\nThe sycophant, whose profession required him to know everything,\nremembered at the child\u2019s call that the young girl who bore this name\nmust be a daughter of General Myronides, who had recently inherited\nthe next house, and that she was reputed to be _amechan\u014ds kal\u0113_,\nirresistibly pretty. So it was not without eager expectation that he\nawaited her coming. Then he heard a young girl\u2019s voice inside the\nhouse, singing:\n\n   \u201cAmid the vines, amid the leaves\n    Peer forth the lustrous grapes....\u201d\n\nThe singer approached, and Callippides\u2019 heart throbbed faster.\n\nBut he was not taken by surprise when the door opened. Rumor had\ntold the truth; for she was beautiful, fairer than any woman he had\never seen--half child, half maiden, like Polycleitus\u2019 bewitching\nbasket-bearers.[F]\n\n                                  [F] Basket-bearers. This was the\n                                      name given to a chosen band of\n                                      citizens\u2019 daughters who, at\n                                      the Panathenaic Festival, took\n                                      part in the great procession of\n                                      the whole Athenian population.\n                                      They carried on their heads\n                                      baskets containing offerings. A\n                                      representation in marble of these\n                                      beautiful Attic virgins was the\n                                      sculptor Polycleitus\u2019 most famous\n                                      work.\n\nShe laughed so gaily and carelessly at her little sister\u2019s impatience\nthat her dark eyes sparkled and her white teeth glittered between her\nscarlet lips, then as the child turned, stretching its arms towards\nher, she darted to her, embracing and kissing the little one.\n\n\u201cSwing me, Melitta, swing me!\u201d cried the child. \u201cChloris can\u2019t do it.\u201d\n\nMelitta fastened the purple fillet tighter around her black locks,\nremoved the upper garment worn over her red-bordered dress, and told\nthe slave to carry it into the house; then, leaning forward, she put\nthe swing in motion.\n\nSo this was Melitta, the irresistibly pretty Melitta.\n\nCallippides\u2019 glance rested as though spell-bound on the young maiden\nwith the dark eyes, smiling lips, and slender, girlish figure. As she\nstood there in her light robe in the shadow between the pillars of\nthe house, she was surrounded by such an atmosphere of purity that\nit defended her like a shield against evil thoughts. From the black\ncurls that slipped out beneath the purple fillet to the gold-broidered\nsandals everything about her was full of childlike grace.\n\n\u201cHigher!\u201d cried the little girl joyously, striking her feet together\ntill the sandal straps clapped.\n\nMelitta bent still lower to give the swing a stronger push. This\nloosened the gold clasp that fastened her dress at the neck, and the\ndainty dazzling shoulders appeared a moment.\n\nCallippides knew himself, so he was surprised that no flush of passion\nhad crimsoned his face. In the midst of his secret agitation, he\nrecognized this fact as a sign that he was no longer the same man.\n\nAs Melitta soon after stopped the swing and helped the child out,\nher glance fell on the next garden where Callippides, half concealed\nby some bushes, stood motionless as a statue in the shade of the\nplane-tree.\n\nCallippides was a tall, distinguished-looking man. His dark hair\nand beard were cut by Sporgilus, the best barber in Athens, and the\nblood-red scar made by the horse\u2019s hoof on the crown of his head\nwas partially concealed by the hair which, in this place, had grown\nsomewhat thin. His features were dark and stern, but in consequence of\nhis arduous exercises in the race-course, he had retained a bearing\nwhich made him ten years younger. Like all Athenians of noble birth,\nhe paid great attention to his person and most frequently wore a\nsnow-white chiton or tunic of the finest Milesian wool, with a blue\nover-garment of Persian kaunak\u0113, a kind of costly rough woollen fabric\nimported from Sardis. Down to the light soles which belonged to his\ncalling of sycophant he was, in short, in everything an exquisite, a\ndandy, but in such a way that he did not make himself ridiculous. His\ngait showed none of the affected stiffness with which Athenian coxcombs\ntried to attract attention, and he never carried a short staff under\nhis cloak nor walked with a fragrant Median apple in his hands when he\nappeared out of doors.\n\nWomen have quick eyes. Melitta, with a single glance, received an\nimpression of his whole person. The tall, grave, bearded man seemed\nto her to resemble her father--the only free citizen whom in her\nmonotonous life in the women\u2019s apartments she had had an opportunity\nto notice. She let the child go in first, and turned her head again.\nMelitta was very fond of her father. She wanted to see whether she had\nbeen right--whether the man in the next garden resembled him.\n\nAt the young girl\u2019s movement a flood of joy swept through Callippides\u2019\nheart, and he became even happier when he fancied he read good-will in\nthe look with which Melitta gazed at him.\n\nThe sycophant was not spoiled by good-will.\n\nWhen Melitta had disappeared he walked towards the house as if in a\ndream. At the sun-dial he found old Manes who, bending over the pin,\nwas in the act of reading the hour. He looked intently at him but the\nslave did not seem to have noticed anything.\n\nCallippides went into the \u201ctreasure-chamber\u201d and took his seat in the\narm-chair. He imagined that he still saw Melitta with the purple fillet\naround her black curls, with her dark eyes, smiling lips, and dazzling\nshoulders. There was something in the girl\u2019s fresh youth which moved\nhis inmost soul. He, the voluptuary, who was ever seeking to devise\nsome new pleasure, thought that the highest joy he could fancy would\nbe to hold Melitta\u2019s hand in his.\n\n\u201cBy the Graces!\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cshe is a living human flower.\u201d\n\nSuddenly it became evident to him that in a few moments, a far shorter\ntime than the water-clock required to run out, he had become an\nentirely different person. A shudder ran through his limbs and--as if\nafraid to hear his own words, he murmured softly:\n\n\u201cCallippides no longer belongs to himself.\u201d\n\nWhen he again raised his head and looked at the walls they seemed to\nhim, for the first time, as they had appeared to Manes. He did not like\nthe inscriptions, there was something about them which disturbed him,\nso he went into the next room and threw himself on a couch where he\nfell into deep thought. He lay thus a long time; the day declined more\nand more, the short twilight merged into the deep shades of evening.\nWhen he roused himself and looked through the open door the stars were\nshining over the peristyle.\n\nHe called Manes and told him to light the lamp.\n\nAs he rose from the couch his glance fell upon his foot-gear, which,\ncontrary to habit and custom, he had kept on after having come in from\nthe garden. At the sight of the thin soles, the token of his trade of\nsycophant, he shuddered.\n\n\u201cHow cold the wind blows!\u201d he muttered as though to deceive himself.\n\nThen he called again, thrust out his foot, and said:\n\n\u201cManes, take off my soles, and\u201d--he spoke hurriedly--\u201cburn them and\nall the others of the same kind I possess.\u201d\n\nThe old man stood as if he were petrified. If his master had been a\nsoldier and had ordered him to break his sword, he could not have been\nmore dumb with amazement.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you hear?\u201d said Callippides sternly.\n\nManes knelt before him, but his hands trembled so that he was unable to\nopen the buckles.\n\n\u201cYou are growing old, Manes,\u201d said Callippides more gently as though he\nregretted his harshness.\n\nThen he put his foot on the edge of the couch to unfasten the straps\nhimself; but, ere he had touched them with his hands, started up and,\nwith two vigorous kicks, hurled them into the farthest corner of the\nchamber, where they fell on the ground with a clapping noise.\n\n\u201cDid you hear?\u201d he said to Manes, \u201cthe dumb soles spoke. It was their\nfarewell.\u201d\n\nCallippides then drew from his belt a key with three wards which he\ngave to Manes, saying:\n\n\u201cTake it to Philostratus to-morrow morning.\u201d\n\nMares passed from one surprise to another.\n\n\u201cWhat shall I say to him?\u201d he asked timidly.\n\n\u201cThat I have no farther use for it.\u201d\n\nThe old man scarcely believed his ears. He clasped his hands, but dared\nnot speak.\n\n\u201cWhat would you say, Manes,\u201d asked Callippides, \u201cif you should see me\nsome day with a helmet on my head leading a troop of horsemen?\u201d\n\nAt these words the aged face brightened and the old man fixed his eyes\nwith almost a father\u2019s tenderness upon the master whom, when a child,\nhe had often played with on his knee.\n\n\u201cThe day I see you leader of the band of horsemen,\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cthe\nday the bridal torches....\u201d\n\nManes got no farther; at the last word Callippides started up and\ncovered his mouth with his hand.\n\n\u201cSilence, old fool!\u201d he cried sternly. \u201cYou are talking about things\nwhich don\u2019t concern you. Do you want me to tear your tongue out of your\nmouth and fling it to the dogs?\u201d\n\nThe slave silently slunk away, trembling from head to foot.\n\nContrary to his custom Callippides, during the following days, remained\nat home and did not fail to spend the afternoon hours in the garden.\nBut day after day slipped by without his having the smallest glimpse\nof Melitta. The door of the next house often opened; but it was only a\nfemale slave who came out to gather flowers, pluck fruits, or bring in\nfrom the garden the stuffs that had been washed. As each day elapsed,\nCallippides became more and more depressed.\n\nOne night, as he sat half erect on his couch, unable to sleep, he saw\nthrough the open door a narrow ray of light which fell upon the flags\nin the courtyard. Surprised, he rose; the light came from Manes\u2019 room.\nFearing that the old man might be ill, he went to him at once.\n\nManes was sitting working on a pair of sandals, whose straps were\nnot in the best condition. When Callippides entered, he was evidently\nstartled and confused and tried to hide something behind his chair.\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing, Manes?\u201d asked Callippides.\n\n\u201cPutting new straps to a pair of old sandals.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhose are they?\u201d\n\n\u201cMine.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd these?\u201d asked Callippides, taking from behind the chair a pair of\nlittle sandals for a child seven or eight years old, \u201care these yours\ntoo?\u201d\n\nManes silently tried to avoid his master\u2019s eye.\n\nCallippides now understood something of which hitherto he had not\nthought, and knew to whom he owed the frugal meals which had been set\nbefore him during the last few days.\n\nYet he said nothing. Callippides was a man of few words.\n\nHe stood still a moment gazing silently at the old slave, who scarcely\nknew whether he might venture to continue his work or not. Suddenly\nCallippides laid his hand upon his shoulder and said with a strange\ngentleness in his voice:\n\n\u201cGo to rest. Manes; you have worked enough to-day.\u201d\n\nThe old man seized his master\u2019s hand and kissed it. At that moment he\nwould have died for him.\n\nThe next day Callippides, contrary to his usual custom, went out into\nthe garden before noon. Some presentiment told him that this time it\nwould not be in vain. He had remained there only a few minutes when,\nthrough the half open door of the next house, he fancied he heard a\nchild\u2019s voice utter Melitta\u2019s name.\n\nAlmost at the same moment the young girl came out, accompanied by an\nold female slave. Taking from her hand a graceful jug, she began to\nwater the rarer flowers which were planted nearest to the house. Then\nshe searched for buds, removed the withered blossoms, and tied up the\ndrooping branches; in short, she busied herself a long time among the\nflowers, and at every movement her slender figure displayed some fresh\ngirlish charm.\n\nTo-day she wore on her dark locks a gold clasp which fastened a blue\nfillet above her brow, and her white garment was trimmed with a double\nborder of the same color. It seemed to Callippides that the young girl\nlooked a little graver, but even more beautiful than when he first saw\nher.\n\nAs she came to the clump of bushes nearest to the next garden she\nperceived Callippides. The slave, who was holding a red umbrella over\nher young mistress\u2019 head, followed the direction of her glance, but had\nscarcely caught sight of the sycophant when she dropped the umbrella\nand seized the girl\u2019s arm as though some danger threatened her.\n\nMelitta turned in astonishment, and the slave hastily uttered a few\nwords which made her mistress frown. She seemed to contradict her\nattendant, who became more and more vehement.\n\nCallippides had sharp ears--he was a sycophant--and the distance from\nthe two speakers to the spot where he stood was only thirty or forty\npaces. First he caught one of the slave\u2019s words, then more, until at\nlast he distinctly heard her say:\n\n\u201cAs sure as you\u2019re General Myronides\u2019 daughter, he belongs to the\nvenomous brood whose pathway is filled with curses, blood, and corpses.\nYou can see for yourself that he is marked by the wrath of the gods! Is\nnot his shadow blacker than other men\u2019s?\u201d\n\nAs Callippides stood in the green dusk under the plane-tree, with the\nwhite wall of the house behind him, so dense a shadow really fell\nupon him that, from the sunlit spot where the two women stood, it was\nimpossible to discern the colors in his dress.\n\nDisturbed by the slave\u2019s words, Melitta herself fancied she saw\nsomething spectral and threatening in the tall, dark man. With a shriek\nshe dropped the water-jar, gathered the folds of her robe around her,\nand rushed into the house. By the terror with which she closed the\ndoor behind her, Callippides understood that it had shut between them\nforever.\n\nQuietly as ever, though somewhat paler than usual, he went back to the\nhouse. Sometimes he fancied he again heard the door banged, and each\ntime he felt as though his heart would break.\n\nThe lonely and desolate condition, the seclusion from intercourse with\nothers in which he had spent his later years had often weighed heavily,\nnay almost unendurably upon him, yet never had his heart been so empty,\nso dead to all hope, as now. \u201cAlas!\u201d he murmured, \u201ceverything might\nhave been different, entirely different--but it is too late.\u201d He gazed\nsteadily into vacancy, and his eyes expressed a sombre resolve.\n\nSoon after he had come in from the garden he sat down to write, but\ntwice tore up what he had traced before he was satisfied. Then he made\nan exact copy of it.\n\n\u201cNow it only needs the signatures of the witnesses,\u201d he said to\nhimself, as he put his seal-ring on his finger.\n\nAfter standing for some time absorbed in deep thought, he took from a\nchest a flask with a wicker basket-work covering called a _lagynos_.\nWhen he had assured himself that it was empty, he smelled it and was in\nthe act of calling Manes when he suddenly stopped.\n\n\u201cWhy wash it?\u201d he said, looking at the flask with a strange smile. \u201cIt\ncan have held nothing worse than I intend to buy.\u201d\n\nCallippides then left the house, and did not return until the evening.\n\nManes had scarcely lighted the double-wicked lamp, when his master said\nin a curt, imperious tone:\n\n\u201cBring water, efface these inscriptions, and wash the walls clean.\u201d\n\nThe old man would fain have hugged his master, but he had not forgotten\nhow badly he had fared when he let fall a word about the hymeneal\ntorches. Yet never had he obeyed a command with greater joy. Still,\nzealously as he worked, it was not quick enough for Callippides.\n\nWith a restlessness very unusual, he wandered to and fro hurrying the\nslave every moment.\n\nAt last the walls were partially cleaned, but the water stood in great\npools on the flagged floor.\n\n\u201cLet it stay,\u201d said Callippides curtly, \u201cit will soon sink into the\nground.\u201d\n\nThen he added:\n\n\u201cCome here, Manes!\u201d and, after having gazed at him with a long, earnest\nglance, he said with the same strange gentleness as on the evening\nbefore.\n\n\u201cYou have always been a faithful servant to me.\u201d\n\nSomething in both words and tone surprised the old man.\n\n\u201cIs the master going away?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a long time?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps so,\u201d replied Callippides with a faint smile.\n\nTowards dawn Manes had a strange dream. It seemed to him that a vast\nshining Shape formed of mist, with wings on its cap and heels, came\nfloating in to his master and took him by the hand. Scarcely had this\nhappened ere his master himself became a misty form and both soared\nnoiselessly away.\n\nThe old man awoke with a shudder. He felt a chill on his brow as though\nwings were waving around him, and did not exactly know whether he was\nawake or dreaming.\n\nSeized by a gloomy foreboding, he rose from his couch. To his terror\nCallippides\u2019 sleeping-room was empty. The couch was untouched, the\npillow had not been pressed, and an old over-garment lay carefully\nrolled at the foot. It was evident that no one had slept there during\nthe night.\n\nWhen he entered the \u201ctreasure-chamber,\u201d he felt greatly relieved at\nseeing his master sitting in the arm-chair. His head was resting\nagainst the high back and his eyes were closed. He was apparently\nsleeping.\n\nThe old man approached--a penetrating, disagreeable odor, proceeding\nfrom a goblet on the table reached him--the smell of hemlock.\n\nHe now understood everything.\n\n\u201cDead!\u201d he murmured, \u201cdead!\u201d he repeated, as though he could not\nbelieve his own words.\n\nMotionless and carefully attired as usual, Callippides sat in the\nhigh-backed chair he had inherited. His dark hair and beard were\nredolent of perfume, there was not a spot to be seen on his light robe,\nand shining rings glittered on his fingers. The only thing which showed\nhe had fought his last battle, was that his right hand was pressed\nagainst his side as if in an attack of pain, while the left hung\nloosely over the arm of the chair. His features were dark and grave,\nbut neither darker nor graver than usual, and a ray of the dawning day\ncast a delusive semblance of life upon his pallid cheeks.\n\nDirectly above him on the white wall were two lines of an imperfectly\nwashed inscription.\n\nManes, fixing his eyes on it, read:\n\n            ... \u201cSentenced _to\n    drink the hemlock_.\u201d\n\nAt the sight of these words, which stood there like the inscription on\na tomb, marked by the finger of retribution, tears streamed from the\nold slave\u2019s eyes.\n\n\u201cZeus Soter be merciful to him,\u201d he murmured. \u201cHe has sentenced\nhimself!\u201d\n\nDirectly after Manes saw a sheet of papyrus lying on the table. Taking\nit up with a trembling hand he read:\n\n  \u201cCOPY\n  OF\n  CALLIPPIDES\u2019 LAST WILL.\n\n  \u201cMay all be well! I hereby make the following disposition of\n  my estate. The little rented dwelling in the Pir\u00e6eus shall be\n  sold to the highest bidder and the money used for my funeral\n  obsequies, which must be worthy of my birth. The tomb shall be\n  built on the road to Budoron, opposite to the garden attached to\n  General Myronides\u2019 country-seat, and the memorial stone is to\n  be a plain column inscribed with the name and date of birth and\n  death. Nothing more.\n\n  \u201cI free my slave Manes and, as I have no relatives, I give him\n  for his property my house in the Street of the Potters, with the\n  garden belonging to it, on condition that he always takes care of\n  the tomb.\n\n  \u201cThe papyrus furnished with a seal, of which this is a copy, is\n  deposited with Philon, son of Sophilus. The witnesses are: Lycon,\n  son of Hegesias, and Charicles, son of Theron.\u201d\n\nBy the side of the papyrus lay a note in which was written:\n\n  \u201cTo Manes:\n\n  \u201cConceal the manner of my death, that I may go to the grave\n  unmutilated.[G] Say that you found me dead in the chair.\n\n  \u201cIn a box on the table is a ring with an exquisitely-carved\n  stone, representing Charis bathing her mistress Aphrodite in the\n  sacred grove at Paphos. Take the ornament to Melitta, General\n  Myronides\u2019 daughter, and say to her: \u2018My dead master Callippides,\n  your neighbor, begs you to accept this ring, which belonged to\n  his mother. You can wear it without fear; from the day he first\n  saw you he has not been a sycophant.\u2019\n\n  \u201cTo you, my faithful Manes, I say: Farewell, and do not grieve.\n  It is better to have poison in the body than in the soul.\u201d\n\n                                  [G] It was the custom to punish\n                                      suicides by cutting off the right\n                                      hand.\n\nThe old man gave free course to his tears.\n\nAs if in a dream he heard the birds twittering in the garden; the\nrefreshing fragrance of the dewy verdure entered, filling the room, and\nthrough the still morning air echoed nearer and nearer the rumbling of\nchariots. Outside was heard the Acharnians\u2019 usual cry in the streets:\n\n\u201cBuy charcoal! Buy vinegar!\u201d\n\nThe unexpected and the usual, stillness and awakening traffic,\ndeath and life, blended so strangely in this hour that the old man\nexperienced a feeling he had never before known.\n\nWithout knowing what he was doing he knelt and kissed his dead master\u2019s\nhand, then clasping his own he cried in his simple, honest fashion:\n\n\u201cMay the twelve Olympians grant him every blessing! He was a kind\nmaster.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HETAERIA.\n\nTHE SECOND YEAR OF THE 91ST OLYMPIAD (415 B.C.)\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HETAERIA.\n\n\nI.\n\nHipyllos had not mentioned where he was going. Old Myrmex, who\naccompanied him with a blazing pine-torch, did not rack his brains\nto discover, but trudged on with dull indifference, following his\nyoung master step by step. His most distinct feeling was that he was\nbeginning to be tired. They had already traversed the greater part of\nAthens, and at this time--the year Chabrias was archon--Athens was a\nlarge city.\n\nShortly after sunset the master and slave had quitted Hipyllos\u2019\nhouse, just inside the Acharnian Gate, and passed through the length\nof Colonus, the most northern portion of the city. Then they walked\nby the \u201cBig Stones\u201d of the Acropolis with their numerous niches for\nvotive offerings, which may still be seen at the present day. From\nthe Prytaneium they had followed the Street of the Tripods, with its\ntemples of the gods and huge brazen tripods, and had gone from the\nOdeium down through the Theatre of Dionysus, over whose orchestra\npeople were in the habit of making a short cut, as the huge building,\nwith the exception of a few festival days, stood empty almost all\nthe year. Next they had followed the Street of the Temples along the\nsouthern edge of the citadel, where no fewer than six marble temples\ngleamed through the twilight shadows at the foot of the dark cliff.\n\nHipyllos had made this circuit to consume the time until the lamps were\nlighted in the houses. The moment had now come, more and more points of\nlight glimmered through the dusk.\n\nFrom the Street of the Temples master and man turned into a narrow\nalley, which wound between the houses, trees, and garden-walls. There\nwas and is still a marked difference between the air in this quarter\nand the atmosphere of the rest of Athens. South of the Acropolis a\nrefreshing sea-breeze usually blows over country and city.\n\nHipyllos, inhaling the damp air with delight, pursued his walk. He had\na joyous face, and his whole person illumined by the red torch-glare\nmade a striking impression. His white upper-garment, adorned with a\nblue border, formed a picturesque contrast to his sunburnt skin and\nblack locks, and every movement of his well-formed limbs was firm and\nsteadfast, in harmony with the expression of his face.\n\nOld Myrmex did not care for the sea-breeze. He was suffering from\nlumbago and, at the first puff of the damp air, he took his torch into\nhis left hand and rubbed his side with the right--an act in which he\nwas not impeded by his clothing, which consisted of a dark _exomis_,\nthe usual garment worn by slaves, and which, to give freedom of motion,\nleft the right arm, shoulder, and side bare.\n\nAbout the middle of the street the way led close by a side-building,\ndoubtless the women\u2019s apartment of a stately house that apparently\nbelonged to a wealthy citizen. From one of the sparsely scattered\n_thyrides_, a kind of air-hole, the light of a lamp streamed into the\ndarkness. Hipyllos paused. This light must have had some peculiar charm\nfor him, he could not turn his eyes from it.\n\nAs if in the mood when some secret joy renders men communicative he\nsuddenly patted the old man on the shoulder, saying:\n\n\u201cMyrmex, do you know whence that light shines?\u201d And, without waiting\nfor an answer, he added: \u201cFrom the room occupied by Clytie, the fairest\nof all Athenian maidens.\u201d\n\nMyrmex stared at Hipyllos with his mouth wide open in amazement.\n\n\u201cMaster, master!\u201d he stammered, \u201cwhat have you taken into your head?\u201d\n\nHipyllos did not hear. But Myrmex feared his master was in the act of\ncommitting some hasty deed, and he knew that when a citizen was guilty\nof a crime, but denied his offence, it was ordained that he should have\none of his slaves tortured. The law was based on the belief that the\nslave would testify against his master and, if he did not, the master\u2019s\ninnocence was proved.\n\nAs this did not seem to be one of the women who led a dissolute\nlife, but a citizen\u2019s daughter, a closely-guarded maiden, Myrmex\nin imagination already felt himself stretched on the rack, whipped\nwith brushes and scourges, tortured with thumb-screws, laden with\ntile-stones on his stomach, and half-choked by vinegar in both\nnostrils. So he repeated in a still louder tone.\n\n\u201cMaster, master, what have you taken into your head?\u201d\n\nHipyllos picked up a pebble, but just as he was flinging it against\nthe wall, as though in obedience to a preconcerted signal, he saw two\nshadows on the red curtain inside of the loop-hole.\n\n\u201c_Aiboi!_ a piece of ill-luck!\u201d he muttered, dropping the pebble, \u201cshe\nisn\u2019t alone.\u201d\n\nThen kissing his hand to the bright ray of light, he passed on\nhalf reluctantly, farther in the direction of the Cerameicus, the\nnorthwestern part of the city.\n\nMyrmex did not think much; but when an idea once entered his brain he\ndid not let it go easily, and now asked for the third time:\n\n\u201cMaster, master, what have you taken into your head?\u201d\n\nThis time Hipyllos heard him. He cast a glance at his companion and,\nseeing his troubled face, understood the connection of ideas and burst\ninto a loud laugh.\n\n\u201cPoor Myrmex,\u201d he said, pinching the old man\u2019s cheeks, \u201care you afraid\nof the thumb-screws? Pooh! You\u2019ll escape! This is no matter of life\nand death, and a citizen can be compelled to have a slave tortured\nonly in an affair of life and death.... Have you heard,\u201d he continued,\nmischievously, \u201cthe story of Killikon from Miletus? He betrayed his\nnative place to the citizens of Priene, and when his friends, during\nthe preparations, asked what he had in view, constantly replied:\n\u2018Nothing but good.\u2019 Well then! when you ask what I have taken into my\nhead I can, with still better reason, answer: \u2018Nothing but good.\u2019 For\nthe maiden belongs to a highly-respected family, and I intend that she\nshall become my wife.\u201d\n\n\nII.\n\nHipyllos walked on silently for some time, then suddenly exclaimed:\n\n\u201cMyrmex, you don\u2019t know--no words can tell how pretty she is.... It\u2019s\na little more than a month since I first saw her. She was returning\nhome from the temple of Demeter, accompanied by her mother and several\nslaves. The wind raised her veil and revealed a face which, crimsoned\nwith blushes at the notice she was attracting, was the loveliest I had\never seen. The young girl was tall and wore a snow-white robe with a\nbroad violet-blue border; her shining black hair was drawn high above\nher neck, and over her veil a gold clasp ornamented with a large blue\nstone glittered on her brow. Her silver-wrought sandal-straps fitted\nher small feet so trimly, that even men usually blind to the secrets of\nbeauty uttered a murmur of admiration. Whenever the breeze tightened\nher garments, making her movements more visible, her bearing showed a\nreserve and modesty impossible to describe in words and, as she passed,\nI seemed to feel an atmosphere of freshness mingled with the faint\nfragrance of some costly ointment.... Never has any woman so bewitched\nme! At night I dreamed of her dazzlingly white neck and soft black\nhair--heavenly powers, how pretty she is! But you don\u2019t understand\nme, Myrmex; I might as well confide in the trees and stones by the\nwayside.... All the young men she met turned--no one was content with\nmerely seeing her pass. Here, where the girls spend their days in the\nnarrow limits of the women\u2019s apartment, it isn\u2019t three times in a man\u2019s\nlife that he meets such a maiden on the highway.\n\n\u201cAs she and her mother approached the house where we just saw the\nlight shining, one of the slaves ran into the Phalerian street to\nknock at the door, and I now knew who the young girl was. The mansion\nbelonged to the architect Xenocles, and the maiden was doubtless his\ndaughter Clytie, whose beauty I had often heard praised. At the corner\nof the wall the wind blew stronger, so that the women were obliged\nto struggle against it. Suddenly the young girl\u2019s veil was loosened\nand flew away on the breeze. Uttering a loud shriek, she stopped and\ncovered her face with her hands. Rushing on in advance of the rest\nafter the veil, which was whirling around in the air, I caught it as\nit fell and hung on a slender branch. As I approached the young girl,\nwho had let her hands fall and stood blushing crimson, with eyes bent\non the ground, she looked so bewitchingly beautiful that, fairly beside\nmyself, I grasped the hand with which she took the veil, exclaiming:\n\n\u201c\u2018Pretty Clytie, raise your eyes to mine; for here, in your mother\u2019s\npresence, I swear that you and no one else shall become my wife.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe young girl turned pale and snatched her hand from my clasp, but\nshe did what I asked. She raised her large dark eyes and fixed them on\nmine--it seemed to me not with dislike.\n\n\u201cThe mother, however, was very angry and thrust me away, saying:\n\n\u201c\u2018Who are you, Youth, who dares to speak so boldly to a modest maiden?\nClytie--_your_ wife! May all the gods forbid! Know that her father has\npromised her to another....\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018By Zeus!\u2019 I interrupted, \u2018that other shall yield, were he the king of\nPersia himself.\u2019\u201d\n\nMyrmex looked up at his master and laughed in his beard at his audacity.\n\n\u201cThe next morning,\u201d Hipyllos continued, \u201con the walls, the bark of the\ntrees, and the stones along the roadside were the words written by\ndifferent hands:\n\n   \u2018_Clytie is beautiful. No one\n    is lovelier than Clytie._\u2019\n\n\u201cI alone did not write; but, at the hour that everybody was going to\nmarket, I rode my black Samphora steed through the narrow lane. It was\nvery rare to hear the sound of hoofs there and, as I had anticipated,\nthe pretty maid appeared at the peep-hole. Her room was where I had\nexpected. She hastily drew back, but I saw by her glance that she had\nrecognized me. The next day I again rode by. She did not vanish so\nquickly; but I didn\u2019t speak to her, for I did not know whether she was\nalone. The last time I rode through the street I passed close by the\nhouse and laid a laurel-blossom in the loop-hole; when I came back it\nhad been exchanged for a narcissus flower, which lay where it could be\neasily taken. I then sent Manidoros--whom you know: the boldest and\nmost cunning of my slaves--to Phalerian street. He speedily ingratiated\nhimself with Doris, the youngest of Xenocles\u2019 female slaves, and how\nhappy I was when one afternoon he came home and said:\n\n\u201c\u2018Everything has happened as you wish. Doris told me that her young\nmistress has seemed wholly unlike herself ever since she saw you. She\nweeps, dreams, and murmurs your name. But the man to whom her father\nhas promised her--he is a great orator and writer of tragedies--she\nhates worse than death. Doris declares you have used some spell, and\nthat the girl is bewitched.\u2019\u201d\n\nOld Myrmex shook his head.\n\n\u201cMay all this give you happiness!\u201d he murmured.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe master and slave continued their way towards the Cerameicus.\n\nThe district through which they were walking was the most rugged part\nof Athens, and the eye everywhere met the proud outlines of steep\nmountains. A few hundred paces on the right towered the Acropolis; a\nlittle farther away at the left lay the Museium, and five hundred paces\nin front the broad Pnyx and steep Areopagus rose into the air. Most\nof these heights were considerable cliffs and the two nearest, the\nAcropolis and the Museium, towered hundreds of ells above the stony\nground where the road lay.\n\nIt was a bright, clear evening in the month Boedromion. The wind was\ndying away; but every time a faint breeze swept by it bore a peculiar\nspicy odor from the wild thyme that grew on Mt. Hymettus. The crescent\nmoon was high in the heavens. The Acropolis, with the temple on its\nsummit, appeared like a huge, shadowy mass, against which the greyish\nflanks of the Museium lay bathed in moonlight, so that one could count\nthe little white houses.\n\nSuddenly from the distance a loud shriek of pain echoed through the\nevening stillness and repose. A man\u2019s deep voice moaned as if some\none were suffering a torturing death-agony. More than twenty times\nthe: _Oi moi! Oi moi!_ (Woe is me! Woe is me!) was repeated. Every\nsyllable, every intonation was borne through the soft air with peculiar\ndistinctness. A little later the sound became fainter till at last it\ndied away in a dull, breathless silence.\n\nHipyllos started, though he had heard piteous wails in this place\nbefore.\n\nThe cries came from a part of the height where there were no houses.\nThe interior of the cliff was doubtless inhabited, for about twenty\nyards above the place where the road wound light shone through twenty\nor thirty small holes in the mass of rock. These holes, ranged in two\nrows, may be seen at the present day, and inside of them lay--and\nstill remain--some ancient cliff-chambers, whose origin mocks human\nspeculation, since even that period--nearly twenty-three centuries\nago--possessed no knowledge of whose hands had formed them or--if they\nwere tombs--whose bones had mouldered there. At that time these rooms\nwere used for prisons, and many a criminal sentenced to death was\nhere--where no escape was possible--compelled to drain the poisoned cup.\n\nHearing the wails reminded Hipyllos that \u201cthe eleven\u201d were in the habit\nof going at sundown to the prison to loose the chains of the condemned\ncriminal and inform him that his last hour had come. The hapless man\nthen took a bath, and was afterwards compelled to drink a goblet of\nhemlock juice and pace up and down the narrow room until his limbs grew\ncold under him. Then he was obliged to lie down on the couch, cover his\nface, and await death. It was during this torturing expectation that\neven the strongest man uttered lamentations.\n\nWhoever knew this fact could understand the cause when, as on this\nevening, shrieks of anguish echoed from the dark stone chambers.[H]\n\n                                  [H] Numerous subterranean rooms\n                                      are found in the southwestern\n                                      quarter of Athens, the ancient\n                                      cliff-city, which is now almost\n                                      uninhabited. A certain part of\n                                      the eastern base of the Museium\n                                      contains three entrances, the\n                                      central one somewhat dilapidated,\n                                      that lead to two rooms 10-11\n                                      feet in length and a well-like\n                                      air-passage connected with lower\n                                      corridors. These cliff-chambers\n                                      now bear the name of _h\u0113 fylak\u0113\n                                      tu Socratus_, Socrates\u2019 dungeon,\n                                      and are marked as such by oral\n                                      tradition.\n\nEven Myrmex awoke from his indifference and spit three times on his\nbreast to avert misfortune.\n\n\u201cDo as I do,\u201d he said to his master, \u201ckeep ill-luck away.\u201d\n\nHipyllos quickened his pace.\n\n\u201cI fear nothing for myself,\u201d he replied \u201cand I cannot aid the doomed\nman.\u201d\n\nHis features at this moment wore a serious expression which showed\nthat, spite of his youth, he had seen and experienced many things.\n\n\nIV.\n\nHipyllos\u2019 father, Chaeretades, one of the guardians of orphan children,\nwas already advanced in life when he lost his wife, Hipyllos\u2019 mother.\nAfter the short period of mourning, thirty days, he married a young\nwidow named Cleobule, famed for her beauty, but about whom nothing good\nwas said in other respects. Scarcely six months after, rumor asserted\nthat she was carrying on an intrigue with a young Carystian who lived\nin the house.\n\nThe report reached Hipyllos\u2019 ears through the slaves and, stirred to\nhis inmost soul, he taxed Cleobule with her infamy, but she called\nall the gods to witness that she was unjustly suspected, and looked\nso pathetic and beautiful in her despairing grief that Hipyllos did\nnot know what to believe. But, after the Carystian had left the house,\nthe caresses which, as his step-mother, she could venture to bestow\nupon her husband\u2019s son, grew warmer than was seemly and when, at the\ngreat Panathenaic festival, he returned from the procession clad in\nhis holiday robe with a garland on his hair, she ran to meet him,\nembraced him, and called him her young Hippolytus, her young Theseus.\nHe thrust her away so violently that she fell on the tiled pavement\nof the peristyle, and from that hour Cleobule pursued him with the\nbitterest hatred. As he stood alone--Chaeretades was completely in\nher power--this gradually developed in his nature a premature degree\nof firmness and resolution. Nevertheless, he was obliged to submit to\nmany things. Cleobule finally alleged that he associated with dissolute\nrevellers, and persuaded her husband to send him to the fleet of twenty\nships with which Phormion, since the second year of the war, had\nguarded the mouth of the Corinthian Gulf.\n\nHipyllos found the fleet lying off Antirrhium, opposite to the\nPeloponnesian galleys. It seemed strange to suddenly find himself so\nnear the enemy that he could hear the Spartan war-songs and see their\nspears and swords glitter in the sunlight. Aboard young and old were\nconfident of victory, for they had recently defeated a Corinthian fleet\ntwice as large as their own.\n\nThe battle was not long delayed.\n\nEarly in the morning the Peloponnesians rowed into the bay opposite\nNaupactus, a city belonging to the allies of Athens. Phormion was\nhurrying after to defend the place, when the enemy suddenly made a\ncircuit by which they intercepted and captured his last nine ships.\nHipyllos was on the eighth and, frantic at falling into the hands of\nthe foe, he shouted to a party of Messenians from Naupactus whom he saw\non shore:\n\n\u201cMessenians! Will you calmly see ships that were hastening to the aid\nof your city, captured by the enemy? Help us save this one galley.\nWhen we are once free, we will speedily rescue the others.\u201d\n\nThe men on land consulted together a moment, then they waded out into\nthe sea and assisted their allies. But scarcely was the ship freed,\nwhen it rowed to the next, and when two were rescued they easily\nsucceeded in recapturing the others, so that the Peloponnesians only\nkept a single one of the Athenian galleys. Meantime Phormion had rowed\nfarther on with the remainder of the fleet, but, perceiving that the\nPeloponnesians kept no order, he attacked and routed them, capturing\nsix ships. The Athenians raised the sign of victory, jeering at the\nPeloponnesians for doing the same.\n\nHipyllos was universally praised; for he had not only summoned the\nMessenians to the rescue, but had fought bravely and killed a brother\nof Lycophron, one of the commanders of the hostile fleet.\n\nOn his return to Athens Hipyllos found his father on a sick-bed. Shame\nfor Cleobule\u2019s misconduct, which at last could no longer be concealed,\naffected the old man like a slow poison.\n\nHipyllos\u2019 valor in the naval battle at Rhium was his last joy. The very\nday that he had listened to the account of it from one of the officers\nof the fleet he breathed his last, holding his son\u2019s hand in his own.\nHipyllos mourned sincerely for his father. Cleobule was more richly\ndowered by the dead man\u2019s will than she had any right to expect, but\nwas compelled to instantly quit the hearth on which she had brought\ndisgrace.\n\nAt the time we make Hipyllos\u2019 acquaintance he was in independent\npossession of a fine house, numerous slaves, and a fortune of more\nthan thirty talents.[I] The firmness he had acquired in the conflict\nwith his wicked step-mother now served him in good stead. Having early\nlearned to govern himself, he was wiser than most of the men of his own\nage and did not squander his property. When reproached for not keeping\nopen house for his friends and sending a team of four horses to the\ngames, he shook his head and answered:\n\n\u201cWhy should I waste my inheritance? Some day Athens will knock at\nmy door, saying: \u2018Give me a ship for the fleet or a chorus for the\ntheatre\u2019--then will be the time to be open-handed.\u201d\n\n                                  [I] An Attic talent was equal to\n                                      about eleven hundred dollars.\n\n\nV.\n\nHipyllos and Myrmex had now reached the closely-built Cerameicus. But\neven the great market which, half steeped in moonlight, half veiled\nin deep shadow, lay outspread before them with its temples, arcades,\nbooths, altars, hermae, and statues--even here there was little\nmovement.\n\nMost of the people had long since returned from the gymnasia, freedmen\nand slaves had performed the duties of the day, and after sunset\nchildren were not permitted to play outside of the doors of the houses.\n\nYet life was not wholly silent. Laughter and song echoed from the\nwine-shops, and the heavy grating of the stone-saws was heard from many\na sculptor\u2019s; for in those days sculptors had so much to do that their\nslaves were often obliged to work in the evening and part of the night.\nEver and anon the hooting of owls sounded from their countless hidden\nholes in the cliffs and, as usual in the autumn, there was heard,\nlike voices from another world, the wailing notes of invisible birds\nof passage calling to each other in the night as they flew at a dizzy\nheight above the city.\n\nHipyllos turned into a side street, which led from the superb street\nextending from the Dipylum Gate to a long hill in the Melitan quarter.\nHere he told Myrmex to extinguish the torch; then after looking around\nhim and listening, till he thought himself sure that no one was\nfollowing, he directed his steps towards a solitary house at the foot\nof the height which, seen in the moonlight, presented a peculiar aspect.\n\nIt had a hyperoon or upper story which extended only over part of the\nbuilding and was reached by a staircase on the outside. It was an\nold-fashioned, but very convenient style of architecture, especially\nwhen this upper story was used for guest rooms. In those days, when\ntaverns were almost unknown, nearly every house annually received\nvisits from distant guests who, on the great festivals, came to Athens\nto attend the processions and torch-races, or the performances in the\nTheatre of Dionysus. Both stories were so low that a man, by standing\non another\u2019s shoulders, could have reached the roof with a staff.\nNevertheless, the house had a certain air of distinction from being\nenthroned on a huge limestone rock, in whose crumbling sides ten or\ntwelve steps were hewn.\n\nAs Hipyllos and his companion went towards the dwelling there was\na rustling on the outside staircase, and the figure of a boy with\nclosely-cropped hair suddenly appeared outlined against the grey\nevening sky--doubtless a young slave stationed to keep watch. At the\nsight of the approaching forms he began to sing at the top of his\nvoice, apparently to attract the attention of the inmates of the house,\nthe beginning of the old Harmodius chorus:\n\n   \u201cNever has Athens possessed such a man,\n    Never did citizen so serve the city....\u201d\n\nThen he suddenly stopped and, in the stillness, which seemed doubly\nas profound as before, a dog was heard barking within the dwelling.\nHipyllos went up to the door of the house and signed to Myrmex to\nknock with the copper ring. Scarcely had the heavy blow fallen, when\na frantic deafening barking was heard, interrupted by a short howl as\nthough the dog had been silenced by a kick. A heavy step approached\ninside and a rough voice asked:\n\n\u201cWho knocks so late?\u201d\n\nHipyllos thrust Myrmex aside and, while he mentioned his master\u2019s name,\nhe himself put his lips to the door and replied in a low tone:\n\n\u201cZeus Philios and Nike.\u201d\n\nThis was evidently a preconcerted watch-word, for the door instantly\nopened. The door-keeper, a big, strong slave, with dark-brown hair and\nbeard, raised the smoking lamp aloft and, recognizing Hipyllos, said in\na mysterious tone: \u201cXenocles and Acestor have come.\u201d Then he led him\nacross a courtyard only five or six paces wide to a room from which\nechoed loud voices and laughter.\n\n\nVI.\n\nHipyllos raised the curtain hanging over the door and entered a\nsmall, low chamber, lighted by a lamp with two wicks placed on a high\nbronze pedestal. The rest of the furniture consisted of four couches\nand a table covered with goblets, wreaths, fillets for the hair, and\nalabaster phials of perfume with necks so narrow that the precious\ncontents could only ooze out drop by drop.\n\nIn this room were three men. Two reclined on the same couch, half\nresting against each other, the third stood before them with folded\narms, talking to the pair. One of the couple on the couch was a small,\nwhite-haired, white-robed man, with a pair of strangely brilliant eyes,\nthe other was a stately personage with long black locks and rings on\nhis fingers, clad in a showy yellow robe. The one who stood before them\nwas a large, stout bald man, with a weather-beaten face and a grey\nbeard, very plainly dressed in a grey chiton, but there was something\nin his bearing which attracted attention. He carried his head high, and\nhis whole outer man bore the impress of unwavering self-confidence and\nunbending pride. He was evidently a man of action, and had more than\nonce held command when the point in question was life and death. His\nmanner clearly showed that he was host and the others were his guests.\n\nWhen Hipyllos entered he advanced several steps to meet him, patted him\non the shoulder, and said in a curt, loud tone: \u201cI like a youth who\ncomes at the right hour--spite of chariot-races, dice, women, and wine.\nBy Zeus, when I was young--I always came late.\u201d\n\nThuphrastos--this was the speaker\u2019s name--had formerly been a captain\nof horsemen and was known by the name of C\u014dd\u014dn, the barker. From asthma\nor habit, he rarely uttered more than five or six words at a time, and\nso abruptly that his speech really bore some resemblance to a dog\u2019s\nbarking.\n\n\u201cHa! ha! ha!\u201d chimed in the little white-haired man. \u201cAnd I was often\noutside the house till late into the night. But, though my father was\nonly a poor miller, he watched his household strictly enough. For a\nlong time I told our old slave-woman to put a pair of dusty sandals\noutside of my door, so that he should think I was at home. One night,\nhowever, he found the chamber empty, so that trick was over. Ah, I was\na young fellow then--it seems so short a time ago--yet now I am old.\u201d\n\nHipyllos greeted the speaker with marked respect. He was the architect\nXenocles, the lovely Clytie\u2019s father.\n\n\u201cOld!\u201d repeated the man in the yellow robe--the orator and tragedian\nAcestor--\u201cold, don\u2019t say that!\u201d And, glancing at the others, he added\n\u201cSpite of his white hair, Xenocles is the most active man among us.\nLike the swan, the bird of Phoebus Apollo--he has no age.\u201d\n\n\u201cHm,\u201d muttered Thuphrastos tartly, \u201cdon\u2019t listen to him. Orators are\ncunning flatterers. Old friend,\u201d he continued, laying his hand on\nXenocles\u2019 shoulder, \u201cwe both know better. Age is a sickness of the\nwhole body. We can--at a hundred paces--distinguish a _Koppa_-stallion\nfrom an animal destined for sacrifice; we can, if necessary, chew our\nbarley bread, but--the girls turn their backs upon us.\u201d\n\nHipyllos exchanged a cold greeting with the stately Acestor, Clytie\u2019s\nacknowledged suitor.\n\nThe latter scarcely seemed to notice the young man; for Hipyllos was\nnot known by many, while every child recognized the orator Acestor. He\nwell knew what pleased the multitude, and talked with equal ease and\nfluency about campaigns, legal cases, art, the working of mines, and\nthe cultivation of vineyards. He was indebted for what he had learned\nsolely and entirely to his excellent memory--he was far from rich\nenough to own a library. Books were extraordinarily expensive. Three\nsmall treatises by Philolaos, the Pythagorean philosopher, cost 110\nminae.[J]\n\n                                  [J] About 1800 dollars.\n\nWhether from lack of will or lack of conviction, Acestor was in one\nrespect an incapable orator. He could never control an assembly\nthat was unfavorable to him. Signs of disapproval from the majority\ncompletely upset him, clouded his brain, and made him contradict\nhimself. Yet he was able to sway an audience as he pleased when sure\nof having his hearers with him. He seemed created to delude credulous\nfolk; thousands on thousands had applauded him, and many thought that,\nas orator and debater, he surpassed Antiphon the Rhamnusian, and as a\ntragedian he deserved to rank by the side of the great Pratinas. The\nmore sagacious, on the other hand, held a totally different opinion;\nthey said that he \u201cpuffed himself up till the city was too small for\nhim,\u201d thought his voice shrill and his statements untrustworthy and as\nto his tragedy they remarked with old Cratinus that he \u201cought to be\nflogged until he learned to write more briefly.\u201d\n\nHis worst opponents went still farther. They openly called him _Carian_\nor _Phrygian_, nay even gave him the slave-name of _Sacas_--all to\nintimate that they did not consider him a native Athenian, but a\nforeigner who had smuggled himself into the list of citizens. The\npunishment for this imposition was very severe, and consisted of\nhaving the hair clipped and being enslaved. Yet nothing was more common\nthan for foreigners, nay, even fugitive slaves, to bribe the recording\nclerks and be entered in the register of citizens. A revision of this\nregister had led to the perplexing, almost incredible discovery, that\nno fewer than 4,760 persons had insinuated themselves among 14,240\nnative citizens.\n\nHipyllos had not yet taken his seat when the slave-boy\u2019s resonant\nvoice was again heard outside. The blow of the knocker on the door\nechoed through the house, and the dog in the outer hall snuffed but,\nremembering the kick, contented itself with growling. Shortly after a\npeculiarly firm step echoed across the peristyle.\n\n\u201cHush!\u201d exclaimed little Xenocles. \u201cWhat a step. If Heracles himself\nwas approaching, it could not sound different. I\u2019ll wager that is\nLamon.\u201d\n\n\nVII.\n\nThe door-curtain was drawn aside admitting a broad-shouldered man of\nmiddle height, with muscular limbs, sunburnt skin, short neck, curling\nlocks, and thick beard. He wore a purple fillet around his hair and\nwas clad in a robe of dazzling whiteness. This was Lamon, famed for\nhis remarkable strength, who in the 88th Olympiad would have won the\nprize for wrestling, had he not unintentionally crushed to death his\nopponent, a Heracleotian athlete. Lamon was a fuller by trade. In\nthose days, when the white robe was commonly worn, the business was a\nvery general and very profitable occupation, since the fine woollen\nstuff, every time it was to be cleansed from stains and soils, had\nto be entrusted to the fuller where, among other processes, it was\nsubjected to a skilful bleaching. Lamon was therefore regarded,\ncertainly with good reason, as a very well-to-do citizen.\n\nThere was silent admiration, mingled with a touch of submission, in the\ngreeting of all. At that time strength was a power to which every one\nbowed. Thuphrastos alone showed no special reverence. This man, who\nbelonged to one of the most distinguished families in Athens, had early\ngiven numerous proofs of intelligence and courage. One day, during\nthe expedition against rebellious Megara, he was separated from the\nheavily armed troops by a dense fog and very hard pressed by the foe.\nAt night he ordered each of his men to collect _two_ beds of leaves,\nand in the early dawn he retreated. The Megarians pursued, counted\nthe heaps of leaves, and believing the Attic horsemen to be twice as\nnumerous as they really were, did not dare to attack them, but held a\ncouncil. Meantime Pericles came up with his heavily armed troops and\nthe Megarians were surrounded, which ended the campaign.\n\nBut Thuphrastos was conscious of his distinction. He had a peculiar\nway of using his eyes, lowering them slowly as though measuring the\nperson with whom he was conversing from head to foot. Lamon was thus\ninspected, after which he greeted him, with a certain reserve, it is\ntrue, as one great man salutes another, yet with evident good-will.\n\nStately Acestor sprang up from his couch, went to meet the fuller, and\npressing his hand, said:\n\n\u201cI greet you, Heracles of our day!\u201d Then, turning to the others--he\nusually seemed to speak to as many persons as possible at once--\u201cWith\nLamon among us we can laugh at all informers and slaves of the city\npolice force. Lamon be praised, he is our shield, our armor!\u201d\n\nWith these words Acestor raised his head and arched his chest as\nthough, having bowed to another, he hastened to take the place that was\nhis due.\n\nLamon who, like most remarkably strong men, was somewhat grave and\ntaciturn, now opened his mouth for the first time and, without paying\nthe least heed to Acestor\u2019s flattery, said:\n\n\u201cIt is late. If Sthenelus and Lysiteles would come, we could begin.\u201d\n\nWith these words he reclined on the couch opposite to Xenocles and\nbeckoned to Hipyllos.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nLamon\u2019s wish appeared to be uttered in a lucky hour; for it was\nscarcely spoken when again a stir arose in the house and, directly\nafter, voices echoed in the peristyle outside. It was a peculiar\nexchange of words, which could scarcely be called a conversation,\nsince only every other sentence was heard. One of the speakers,\nespecially, had a voice so low that it was lost in a faint murmur. The\nother, on the contrary, talked in very high, clear tones, emphasizing\neach syllable with a distinctness that could only proceed from long\ntraining. It was easy to perceive that his mode of speech was connected\nwith his profession of addressing words to a numerous assembly. Yet,\nthough his voice was so well developed, there was something frivolous,\nmocking, almost insolent in the tone, which precluded the thought that\nthe man might be an orator.\n\nThe dialogue outside began with a whining mutter, which sounded almost\nas if it came from a disconsolate dog.\n\n\u201cWhy!\u201d replied the loud-voiced speaker, \u201cwhat is there strange in that?\nWhere should two ragamuffins like ourselves meet better than in the\nHimatiopolis Agora (Rag-market)?\u201d\n\nAgain a mutter was heard, that sounded like a feeble remonstrance.\n\n\u201cSimpleton!\u201d replied the loud voice, and each of the sonorous Attic\nwords rang out so distinctly that it was impossible not to listen.\n\u201cHow can you make yourself richer than you are? My cloak, my robe,\nevery thread I have belong to the clothes-dealers, I own that! But\nthe wine I have here\u201d (the listeners knew that the speaker patted\nhimself in the stomach) \u201cbelongs to me, it is my own,--my own, do you\nunderstand?--even if it isn\u2019t paid for. So am I not right in esteeming\nwine more than clothes?\u201d\n\nThe question was answered by a rude laugh, which could scarcely have\nproceeded from the low-voiced man, but was doubtless uttered by the\ndoor-keeper as he followed the guests across the peristyle.\n\n\u201cGood!\u201d cried Xenocles smiling, \u201cthere is our merry brother Sthenelus\nthe actor.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the other,\u201d added Acestor, as if the last comer was not worth\nmentioning by name.\n\nThe curtain was raised and two persons entered, each a queer figure in\nhis own way. The loud-tongued man, Sthenelus the comedian, was a plump\nfellow about forty years old, with a red face, a still rosier nose,\nsmall, piercing eyes, and tousled brown hair. His costume consisted\nof a shabby grey robe, whose white border was full of spots. At the\nfirst step through the door he sank low on one side--he was very\nlame. He had not been born with this infirmity, but once, on one of\nthe great festivals, while personating Cecrops with floating plumes,\ngold-broidered cloak, and sword with an ivory hilt by his side, he\nhad carelessly stepped off the boards and fallen. Half stunned by the\naccident he had heard, as though in a dream, the frantic laughter of\nthe crowd. For where was Cecrops? The hero\u2019s helmet and mask were lying\nin the dust, and the comedian\u2019s red face suddenly appeared, while\nbeneath the magnificent garments were some shabby rags with a pair of\nthin legs, whose lack of proportion to the huge _cothurni_ would alone\nhave been sufficient to awake the mirth of the populace. But this\nfall, amid the laughter of thousands upon thousands of people, had\nserious consequences; from that day Sthenelus was lame.\n\nNo one pitied him. Who knew much about a poor comedian? In whatever\ncharacter he appeared the spectators saw only a close linen mask,\nwhich covered the whole head, and a costume that suited the mask. An\nAgonist\u0113s might appear in three or four parts, year after year on the\ngreat holidays, might grow old on the stage, but win admiration and\naffection--impossible! It was the lifelike disguise, the mask and robe\nwhich the populace applauded. _Who_ was concealed beneath no one knew\nand no one cared to know.\n\nAs Sthenelus\u2019 lameness had rendered him useless as an actor, he was\nobliged to fight his way through the world as he best could. The\nscanty alms bestowed by the state upon all cripples was far from being\nsufficient for his needs. He first sold his stage paraphernalia, his\nmasks, daggers, etc., and then wandered through the small towns in the\nneighborhood of Athens, making merriment for the inhabitants. He went,\nas he himself said, from tragedy to comedy. Jesting became his means of\nlivelihood, and to keep up his courage he drank whenever opportunity\noffered, and in those days opportunities were not rare.\n\n\u201cWhy! why!\u201d he said as he entered, \u201cyou are as solemn as the\nAreopagites themselves. By Heracles, it was far livelier where I\u2019ve\nbeen! I come from Halipedon; the good folks there were amusing\nthemselves by jumping on leather bottles. Finally a fat sausage-dealer\nset his flat feet on one so that it burst with a loud report--and over\nhe went slap on his back in the midst of the mire. There wasn\u2019t a dry\nthread on him. Ha! ha! ha!\u201d\n\nThe other new-comer, Lysiteles, a small, wizened, hump-backed man,\nplucked Sthenelus\u2019 robe to warn him to be less noisy. Then he greeted\nthe assembled group, but in an awkward, humble way, as though he knew\nno one would notice the salutation, after which he shrank into himself\nstill more, so that nothing was seen of his face except a big pale\nforehead covered with a network of wrinkles.\n\nThis man was one of the utterly ruined idlers, of whom there were so\nmany in Athens. As a youth he had been attractive, gay, haughty, and\nextravagant, but all that was left of the \u201cmagnificent\u201d Lysiteles\nwas a decrepit old man of sixty who, with age, had red, rheumy eyes.\nThe jester Meidias asserted that Hermes had changed his eyes to two\nfountains, which wept for his lost fortune day and night. On the whole\nLysiteles was accustomed to be made the butt of jests. Some dissolute\nyoung fellows had once dragged him in to a dinner at the house of\n\u00c6gidion, a well-known hetaera from Corinth. After the banquet the\nquestion was asked.\n\n\u201cCan any one tell why Lysiteles is more crooked and bent than any other\nAthenian?\u201d\n\n\u00c6gidion who, clad in a robe of semi-transparent stuff from Amorgos, was\nreclining on a couch, stretched out her smooth arm adorned with a gold\nbracelet and beckoned to Lysiteles. Fixing her dark eyes on him, she\ngave him a light tap on his lean stomach and said: \u201cIt\u2019s hard for an\nempty sack to stand upright.\u201d\n\n\nIX.\n\nThuphrastos invited the last arrivals to be seated.\n\nLysiteles took the couch farthest in the rear, while Sthenelus\nstretched himself at full length on one of the front ones, close beside\nthe master of the house.\n\nThen a tall mixing-vessel was placed on the tiled floor. It was a\nvase made of burnt clay, adorned with a mask of Silenus, surrounded\nby fruits and flowers. Into this beautiful vessel the Chian wine was\npoured, after being mixed--by the general desire--in the proportion of\none part wine to three of water. Sthenelus alone demurred. \u201cIt\u2019s frog\u2019s\nwine, not human beings\u2019 wine!\u201d he said.\n\nThuphrastos gave each of his guests a wreath, and set small tables\nbearing goblets in front of the couches.\n\nTo any one familiar with Attic customs there was something remarkable\nin these preparations. Not a single slave was present to wait upon the\ncompany. This exclusion of the servants was scarcely natural; but it\nagreed with having a watchword demanded at the door of the house. This\nwas evidently no ordinary drinking-bout.\n\nWhen the goblets were filled Thuphrastos stood forth among the men\nwith a certain solemnity of manner. Pouring a little of the mixed wine\ninto a shallow drinking-cup, he said: \u201cTo the good spirit,\u201d sipped the\nliquor, and passed the cup to his next neighbor.\n\nWhile the wine was going the round of the company, he gazed around the\ncircle with an earnest look, then, raising his voice, he said in his\nsingularly abrupt fashion:\n\n\u201cIn a short time--on the eleventh day of the month--there will be a\npopular assembly and election of magistrates. Who can foresee the\nresult? Shall we come forth rejoicing as victors or grieving and\nexasperated by defeat?\u201d\n\nOne of the wicks of the lamp flared up. Thuphrastos\u2019 eyes rested on\nLysiteles, who sat cowering at the back of the group. The old captain\ndid not consider his manner sufficiently attentive.\n\n\u201cMan!\u201d he shouted, as if he wanted to rouse him from sleep.\n\nLysiteles started and approached with unsteady steps, looking still\nmore hump-backed than before.\n\n\u201cThe elections are close at hand,\u201d repeated Thuphrastos, raising his\nvoice as though speaking to a deaf man. \u201cMany,\u201d he added, laying his\nhand on Lysiteles\u2019 shoulder, \u201csee in you a man sorely persecuted by the\ngods--to whom no one ought to refuse anything. Others have formerly\nbeen your friends and table companions. You can win votes--many votes,\nif you choose.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d said Acestor, \u201che is feather-brained; he might betray us.\u201d\n\nSthenelus half started from his couch. There seemed to be a singular\ncomradeship existing between him and Lysiteles. He himself jeered at\nhim, but he would not allow any one else to do so.\n\n\u201cFeather-brained?\u201d he repeated, and staring fixedly at Acestor he\nrolled the rug spread over the couch into a bundle and, propping his\nelbow on it, raised himself a little. \u201cMy friends,\u201d he continued,\nwaving his hand with the gesture of an orator, \u201clend me your ears! I\nknow a man who in former days was handsome, wealthy, and extravagant.\nHe was called \u201cthe Magnificent.\u201d Now he is only a shadow, and considers\nhimself a worm. I know another man too. He\u2019s as showy and stately\nas one of Pyrilampes\u2019 peacocks, as hollow and noisy as a drum; but,\nbecause many admire him, he fancies himself a demi-god and behaves as\nthough he had vanquished the king of Persia himself. Now, I ask, which\nof these two is the more feather-brained?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy Zeus, the second!\u201d cried little Xenocles, with more haste than\nprudence.\n\nAll except the grave Lamon burst into a peal of laughter, because it\nwas Xenocles, Acestor\u2019s friend, who had made this answer.\n\nAn angry sparkle flashed into Acestor\u2019s eyes; his lips parted. But\nThuphrastos anticipated him.\n\n\u201cNo quarrelling!\u201d he shouted harshly. \u201cLysiteles has sworn faith. He\nwill keep his oath.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat he will,\u201d said Sthenelus with a glance at Acestor. \u201cDoesn\u2019t he\nknow--as we all do--that a drawn sword is hanging over our heads?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d added Xenocles, \u201cthese are evil days. What changes have\nhappened during the last few months! First happiness, rejoicing, the\nintoxication of battle when the expedition to Sicily was determined.\nThe younger men flocked to the wrestling-schools and baths, the older\nones to the work-shops and wine-rooms; the island was described and\nsketched with the surrounding sea and the cities facing Libya. All\nquoted Alcibiades\u2019 words: \u2018Sicily is only the earnest money--Libya and\nKarch\u0113don are the wages of the battle. When we once possess them, we\nwill conquer Italy and surround the Peloponnesus. A great future is\nbefore us; Athens is worthy to rule the world!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Acestor, \u201cand lo--in the midst of the rejoicings came evil\nsigns and omens. What did men whisper in each other\u2019s ears? Socrates\u2019\ngood spirit had predicted evil--the soothsayers, and the oracle of\nAmmon foretold terrible things--a man mutilated himself on the altar of\nthe twelve gods--and ravens had pecked the golden fruits on the bronze\npalm-tree at Delphi.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn truth,\u201d continued Xenocles, \u201cthe omens were not false. Soon came\nthat fateful morning when all the hermae in the market-place except\nthose outside of Leagoras\u2019 house, were found broken and shamefully\ndisfigured. Many insolent hands must have united to accomplish so\nmuch mischief in a single night. Who will ever forget the frightful\ntumult in the city when the sacrilege was reported? All the morning\nthe heralds\u2019 voices were heard, first summoning men to the council and\nafterwards to the popular assembly. Just before noon, a reward of ten\nthousand drachmae was offered for the first accusation. This opened\nthe door to all the powers of evil. Citizens, metic, and slaves vied\nwith each other in making indictments in the council. What did it avail\nthat Alcibiades was ordered to sail with the fleet? That didn\u2019t end the\nmatter....\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary,\u201d muttered Thuphrastos, \u201cday by day there was more and\nmore legal prosecution. Every time the heralds summoned the people to a\ncouncil terror and confusion arose. Peaceful citizens talking together\nin the market hastily separated from each other--every one feared a\nfalse accusation and sought refuge beside his own hearth-stone.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd not without reason,\u201d observed Xenocles. \u201cWhat has become of\nthose denounced like Diocleides or the rich metic Teucros?--all gone,\neither fugitives or sentenced to death! Remember the two members of\nthe council, who first sought refuge at the altar of the gods, and\nafterwards--when bail had been given for them--mounted their horses to\nleave wives, children and all they possessed--glad to escape with only\ntheir lives! The gods be praised that it has been more quiet in the\ncity lately.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be too secure,\u201d said Acestor in a warning tone. \u201cPhanus, Cleon\u2019s\nclerk and confidential man, has not forgotten the time when his\nmaster was treasurer. He bore all the hetaeriae ill-will, but he has\nbeen three times worse since Cleon\u2019s death. Now that he has joined\nPeisandros, Charicles, and the other open or secret rulers, he sees\nin every convivial meeting of friends a threat against the safety of\nthe state, and has in his pay a whole pack of informers who, like\nsleuth-hounds, understand how to scent an hetaeria, often without any\nother clue than a chance word or a vague hint.\u201d\n\nLysiteles groaned; all the others were silent.\n\n\nX.\n\nIt was some time before the conversation was resumed. There seemed to\nbe no special friendship between these \u201cfriends;\u201d each had his own\nhopes and wishes.\n\nThuphrastos\u2019 desire was to be elected state envoy to one of the\ntributary cities which threatened revolt. It was an office that lasted\nonly thirty days, but during this short time afforded an excellent\nopportunity for money-making. The envoy only needed to inspire the\ncity with the fear of a stern punishment, to induce it to enter into\nan agreement in which he placed his demands as high as possible and\nrequired the payment for each separate item in ready money. This was\nthe universal method of proceeding and Thuphrastos had no hesitation in\nfollowing it. In and for itself the proud captain of horse set little\nvalue on money; but he was a poor manager and continually in debt. This\nwas not without peril at a period when an irresponsible debtor might be\nsold as a slave, so it was extremely important for him to be elected,\nand he anticipated with anxiety and suspense what the next popular\nassembly would bring.\n\nXenocles did not aspire so high. He wanted to be superintendent of\nthe public aqueducts. These, which were supplied from the neighboring\nmountains, bore no resemblance to the Roman aqueducts, but consisted of\ndeep canals with reservoirs from which the water was distributed to the\ncity. No one was more familiar with this gigantic work than Xenocles;\nfor in his youth he had been employed by Meton who had superintended\nthe excavations and masonry of the whole of the newest portion.\n\n\u201cHad you not been a member of our hetaeria,\u201d said Sthenelus, \u201cyou\nshould never have had my vote.\u201d And when Xenocles asked the reason he\nreplied: \u201cBecause, by Zeus, you know the aqueducts far too well--you\u2019ll\nbe a costly superintendent.\u201d\n\nLamon cherished wholly different wishes. He wanted to be\ngymnasiarch[K]--a post for which he was fitted both by his dexterity\nin physical exercises and his unusual strength. He was one of those\nwho daily visited the Lyceium. It was a pleasure and delight to\nwander among the crowd in the roofless marble halls around the open\nsquares, and gaze over the yellowish-white sand, where hundreds of\nthe handsomest youths, wrestling nude in the sunlight, displayed their\nagility and strength.\n\n                                  [K] Inspector of the gymnasia.\n\nAcestor agreed with Thuphrastos, flattered Lamon, and said what he\nthought would please Xenocles; but in his heart he despised them all\nand considered himself the chief man in the hetaeria. Nevertheless\nhe appeared to desire nothing except to become one of the people\u2019s\nadvocates. Every one who knew his high opinion of himself wondered that\nhe did not aspire to some greater goal. Hipyllos had also noticed that\nAcestor had been unusually silent at the last meetings of the hetaeria\nand concluded that he was cherishing some secret plan. Thuphrastos also\nthought his manner strange, and determined to keep a watchful eye upon\nhim.\n\nHipyllos was very differently situated. As, with his fortune, he\nbelonged to the class of \u201cknights\u201d and was bound to serve in the\nmounted troops with the weapons, horses, and other costly outfit\nincidental to this duty, the thought of obtaining the position of a\ncaptain in the police force was natural. By the aid of Thuphrastos and\nothers he succeeded in being elected, and had thus attained the end of\nhis desires, but in doing so had by no means loosened the bond uniting\nthem to the hetaeria.\n\nSthenelus would have liked to be public herald, but he was a cripple\nand the heralds, these sacred and unblemished men with the serpent\nstaves, the \u201cfriends of Zeus,\u201d must be persons without any physical\ndefects. Therefore, like Lysiteles, he was obliged to wait until one\nof their more fortunately situated \u201cfriends\u201d had been elected. Many of\nthose chosen to fill public offices could have clerks, and to Sthenelus\nand Lysiteles, from whose houses smoke was never seen to rise, a\nclerk\u2019s salary, though small, would have been a real blessing from the\ngods.\n\nThuphrastos talked of the numerous law cases that would pour in upon\nhim when the time of his embassy had expired. Oppressed citizens,\ninformers who knew that he had obtained money, envious fellow\nsolicitors--would all rush to him.\n\n\u201cSo it\u2019s worth while, Friends, to be firm,\u201d he said. \u201cYou, Hipyllos,\u201d\nhe added with a winning smile, \u201cmust contrive to have your uncle appear\nbefore the court.\u201d\n\nThis was evidently an allusion to a very aristocratic and distinguished\nman. It was a common custom to bring powerful families into the courts\nof justice to make an impression upon the judges. Xenocles who, from\nhis impoverished youth, had cherished a special reverence for all\nprominent personages, raised his head like a horse pricking its ears.\n\n\u201cHipyllos\u2019 uncle?\u201d he asked, \u201cwho is that?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe former archon, Euthydemus.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn archon!\u201d repeated Xenocles, gazing at Hipyllos as though the latter\nhad suddenly grown taller.\n\nHipyllos thought of pretty Clytie, and did not lose his opportunity.\n\n\u201cWhy yes,\u201d he said carelessly, \u201cour family is said to descend from\nthe Pallantidae, Theseus\u2019 old antagonists. It has numbered not a few\narchons, among them one whose name you all know--Lacrateides.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d exclaimed Lamon with unexpected energy, \u201cthe one in whose\narchonship the severe winter happened. My grandmother often spoke of\nit. The roads were covered with snow, and poor people struggled for\nroom in the baths so that some fell on the stoves and were burned.\u201d\n\nXenocles stared at Hipyllos.\n\n\u201cA descendant of Lacrateides!\u201d he exclaimed, clasping both his hands.\n\u201cExcellent young man! You belong to one of the noblest races in\nAthens--and you never mentioned it till now!\u201d\n\nThuphrastos, to whom this interruption seemed long, loudly cleared his\nthroat.\n\n\u201cTo business!\u201d he said harshly. \u201cWhat do you think? Shall we deal with\nMegas, the dyer?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is a man highly esteemed,\u201d replied Lamon. \u201cHis whole family\nconnection see with his eyes and speak with his lips. He disposes of\nnumerous votes.\u201d\n\n\u201cMegas!\u201d exclaimed Sthenelus, \u201cThe dyer without a work-shop ... yes,\nby Zeus, I know him. He\u2019s a man of strict Spartan manners--always goes\nplainly dressed and bare-footed.... But when this pattern of manly\nsobriety meets his companions at night there is--I swear to you--no\ninfamy that is not committed. To me that Megas is detestable.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, there is Medon, the brass-founder,\u201d said Xenocles. \u201cHe\u2019s\na pleasanter fellow to bargain with. Do you know him?--A stout,\nsun-burned man, who loves wine and is always laughing. His family is\neven more numerous than the one of which Megas is head.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not win them both?\u201d asked Hipyllos.\n\n\u201cThere isn\u2019t money enough,\u201d replied Thuphrastos.\n\n\u201cShall it be Medon?\u201d said Xenocles.\n\nAfter some discussion, this was generally approved.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d said Hipyllos, more thoughtful than some of the older men, \u201cif\nMegas finds out that we go to Medon--will he not be vexed and perhaps\nbetray us?\u201d\n\n\nXI.\n\nAs a captain in the mounted police Hipyllos was obliged to have a\nhelmet, breast-plate, shield, lance, sword, and spurs; besides the\narmor required for the forehead, chest, and flanks of the horse. The\ngreater part of this costly equipment was made by the armorer Sauros.\nThe latter did not live, like most of those who followed his trade,\nin the Scambonidae quarter of the city, but in the street of the\nsun-dials, and his forge was in the alley obliquely opposite to the\nside-building of Xenocles\u2019 house. This was a place Hipyllos never\nwearied of visiting; merely to know he was near pretty Clytie was a\ndelight to him.\n\nThe day after the meeting at Thuphrastos\u2019 house, he was to try on the\ncuirass. He reached Sauros\u2019 shop just at twilight. The smith had gone\nout, but a young slave who was filing a metal plate thought he would\nsoon return. The work-shop was filled with smoke and unpleasant odors,\nso Hipyllos preferred to wait outside.\n\nA luxuriant garden extended to a slope, along which ran a walk\novergrown with vines supported on cross-bars resting on tall poles. The\nend of this walk, where Hipyllos stood, was closed by a dilapidated\nwall.\n\nA wide view was obtained from this place. At the left rose the hill\nof the Museium and farther on the Acropolis towered into the air. The\nstreets, trees, and houses between stood forth in dusky outlines amid\nthe gloom of twilight. Lamps shone here and there. The sky was slightly\novercast, and the foliage exhaled a strong odor as though it was going\nto rain. Ever and anon a sleepy gust of wind stirred the damp air.\nEverything expressed peace and rest, and the most profound silence\nreigned in this quarter of the city.\n\nSuddenly light footsteps and mysterious whispers were heard at a little\ndistance.\n\nHipyllos looked through a gap in the ruined wall, and saw several women\napproaching from the other end of the walk. The first one carried a\nlantern with horn sides and seemed to be showing the second the way. A\nthird figure followed.\n\nThe woman with the lantern was dressed in a strange, outlandish\ncostume. Over her head a blue cloth wrought with silver stars was drawn\nin long folds, two of which hung down on her breast, and on her hair\nabove the brow, in place of a clasp, glittered a gold sun. She wore a\nblue robe, and across her bosom and shoulder passed a broad white band\nupon which were embroidered golden suns, crescents, and stars.\n\nAt this time there lived in Athens a woman of foreign birth named\nNinus, who called herself a priestess of the Phrygian god Sabazius. She\nforetold future events and brewed love-potions, while invoking gods and\ndemons. Rumor said that she had a large number of customers, especially\nwomen.\n\nHipyllos did not doubt that this was the person he saw. She seemed\nto be about forty years old; her face was still beautiful, though\nuncommonly pale, and as cold and motionless as if hewn from stone.\n\nHer companion was closely-veiled and wrapped in a long, dark robe\ndrawn over her face like a hood. Hipyllos could not catch the smallest\nglimpse of her features, but so far as he could judge from her figure,\nbearing, and gait, she was young, and so, too, seemed the female slave\nwho followed her.\n\nThe new-comers directed their steps towards the vine-covered alley\nwhere Hipyllos was standing. The priestess of Sabazius set the lantern\non a stone table just inside the ruined wall, and took from a basket a\nquantity of strange things. As well as Hipyllos could see by the dim\nlight, among them were metal bowls, laurel branches, purple wool, an\niron gridiron, some wax figures, and a wheel.\n\nDuring these preparations her veiled companion had often showed signs\nof impatience.\n\n\u201cOh, if I had never come!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cA daughter outside of\nher father\u2019s house after dark! If my mother should miss me--what a\ndisgrace!\u201d\n\nThe voice which echoed in clear, musical tones on the stillness of\nevening made Hipyllos\u2019 heart throb. He had never heard Clytie speak,\nbut it seemed to him that she _must_ speak thus.\n\n\u201cHave no fear, pretty maid,\u201d said Ninus in a singularly deep voice with\na foreign accent. \u201cLet Doris run back and keep watch. Then you can be\ncalled at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, dear Doris, run, run!\u201d\n\nThe slave lingered, but was obliged to obey.\n\nHearing the name of Doris strengthened Hipyllos in the belief that\nClytie stood before him, for the slave through whom he had learned from\nManodoros that her mistress loved him was called Doris.\n\n\u201cMake haste, good Ninus,\u201d said the veiled figure when she was left\nalone with the priestess. \u201cI am trembling with fright.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me time,\u201d muttered Ninus. \u201cDo you suppose the gods can be invoked\nas we draw water or chop wood? It would be a pity,\u201d she added, pointing\nto the numerous articles on the table, \u201cif all this should have been\ndone in vain. I was obliged to bargain with and bribe slaves. How else\ncould I get a man\u2019s shoe or the fringe from his upper garment? But to\nbargain and bribe....\u201d\n\nNinus paused, casting a side-glance at the young girl, who remained\nsilent. The priestess saw that she must speak more plainly.\n\n\u201cBut to bribe,\u201d she added, \u201crequires money, a great deal of money.\u201d\n\n\u201cI haven\u2019t any; I\u2019ve never had money.\u201d\n\nThis was evidently not the first time the answer had been given to\nNinus. She understood how to help herself.\n\n\u201cWell, well!\u201d she cried, \u201cif you have no money, my pretty one, you\nprobably have many rings, clasps, and such things.\u201d\n\nThe veiled figure threw back her cloak; two dazzlingly white arms\nappeared a moment and unfastened a brooch from her forehead. But the\nlight from the lantern was so faint that Hipyllos rather imagined than\nsaw the features which to him were the dearest in the world.\n\n\u201cTake this ornament,\u201d she said; \u201cI have many of them.... Take this pin\nand clasp too.\u201d\n\nNinus bent her head to conceal her delight.\n\n\u201cGenerous girl!\u201d she exclaimed, \u201cwho would not gladly serve a maiden\nfair as Aphrodite and blooming as Artemis?\u201d\n\n\u201cOffer your thanks to Doris,\u201d said the veiled figure. \u201cShe persuaded\nme to come. She has told you all, even that terrible thing--the worst\nmisfortune which could befall me.\u201d\n\n\nXII.\n\nHipyllos strained his attention to the utmost.\n\nNinus herself seemed to become somewhat thoughtful at hearing the\ngirl\u2019s words.\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t you speak to your mother?\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cAh, no, no! Mother will not venture to help me. She wants only what my\nfather desires.\u201d\n\nNinus was silent a moment.\n\n\u201cYet there is no other way,\u201d she said. \u201cYou must either go to your\nmother or do what Doris advises.\u201d\n\n\u201cFollow Doris\u2019 advice?\u201d cried the veiled figure impetuously. \u201cNo,\nnever, never! What are you asking? I should die with shame.\u201d\n\nHow eagerly Hipyllos listened. Here was something he did not understand.\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d replied Ninus, \u201cit must be torture to a respectable girl. Yet\nto _him_....\u201d\n\nThe muffled figure hastily interrupted her.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she said, \u201cI know whom you mean.\u201d\n\nA faint smile flitted over Ninus\u2019 pallid features.\n\n\u201cAha!\u201d she murmured. \u201cYou are afraid I might utter his name, and that\nit might be an ill-omen. So you think of him very often, pretty maid?\u201d\n\nThe young girl bent her head with a bewitching air of embarrassment.\n\n\u201cThen it is true,\u201d Ninus persisted, \u201cyou often think of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlways,\u201d was the reply.\n\nHipyllos could have hugged the sorceress for that one word.\n\n\u201cGirl,\u201d said Ninus suddenly, \u201cis your mind devout and your body pure?\u201d\n\n\u201cBefore coming here I prayed to the gods and anointed myself.\u201d\n\nNinus was silent for a time, then going close to the muffled form she\nasked in a whisper:\n\n\u201cHave you ever heard of stones animated with souls, which have fallen\nfrom the skies? We call them _baetyli_, but among your people they are\nknown by the name of _orites_ or _siderites_.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know nothing about them,\u201d replied the young girl, then seizing the\npriestess\u2019 hand with an enquiring gesture she murmured: \u201cTell me, what\ndo these _baetyli_ give?\u201d\n\n\u201cCounsel.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! Stones--talk?\u201d\n\n\u201cHush, hush! In the name of the gods--silence. It is a great mystery.\u201d\n\nHipyllos listened attentively. He had already heard of a strange\nconnection between demons and stones; he knew that in the temple of\nApollo at Delphi there was a stone that had fallen from the sky, which\nwas daily anointed with oil. This was the stone Rhea had let Cronos\nswallow instead of Zeus.\n\n\u201cAs you know, fair maid,\u201d Ninus continued, \u201cI will gladly serve you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall not be ungrateful.\u201d\n\nNinus shook her head.\n\n\u201cPromises are words written in water,\u201d she murmured.\n\nThe young girl, without answering, began to draw a ring from her finger\nbut Ninus prevented it.\n\n\u201cThe ring is worth eight drachmae,\u201d she said. \u201cConjuring with the stone\nwill cost ten times as much. Know that hitherto no Hellene has made\na _baetylus_ speak. Such things can only be learned in Phrygia....\nFarewell, maiden; we must part....\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t leave me!\u201d cried the girl, seizing Ninus\u2019 robe. \u201cLook!\u201d she\nadded drawing from her arm a glittering gold band, \u201cif this is enough,\ntake it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am easily satisfied,\u201d said Ninus, snatching the gold. \u201cWell then,\nI\u2019ll tell you everything. Before a _baetylus_ will show its power one\nmust fast thrice seven days and hold no conversation with men; then\nthe stone must be washed in spring-water and clad in swaddling clothes\nlike a little child. Even this is not enough. A lamp must be lighted in\na clean room in the house, incense offered, and prayers repeated. All\nthis I have done from the hour Doris first told me.\u201d\n\nNinus now thrust both hands down into the basket and, with great care,\ndrew out a smooth oval stone, wrapped in swaddling clothes like a\nnew-born child.\n\nHolding out the stone, she bowed low.\n\nHipyllos felt like a person who, at some untimely hour, had entered a\nsanctuary and beheld things no mortal eye ought to see.\n\n\u201cMaiden,\u201d whispered Ninus, \u201ctake the _baetylus_ in your arms and rock\nit to and fro. But beware of dropping it; for then it would be angry.\u201d\n\nThe veiled figure received the stone with evident anxiety.\n\nNinus now lighted some charcoal on the gridiron by the flame of the\nlantern, scattered incense upon it, and let the smoke rise before\nthe _baetylus_. Then, taking it from Clytie\u2019s hands, she removed the\nswaddling clothes and anointed it with oil.\n\n\u201cLook!\u201d she cried, raising it in the air, \u201cthe soul is coming.\u201d\n\nHipyllos felt a slight thrill of awe. He fancied he saw the stone make\na slight movement in the priestess\u2019 hands.\n\nNinus now rocked it more violently and in a strange tone, that sounded\nlike the monotonous buzzing of an Egyptian sistrum, chanted the\nfollowing words:\n\n    Orites, lend thine ear,\n    Stone smooth and splendid,\n    Let us the spirit hear\n    Within thy heart hid.\n    Stone that thyself canst stir,\n    From earth arising,\n    Lipless art thou, yet murmur\n    Counsel inspiring.\n\nAgain the stone seemed to make a slight movement.\n\nThe priestess of Sabazius, bending over it, whispered:\n\n\u201cBy the two great mysteries, life and death, I conjure thee, Orites,\nraise thy voice and answer. Shall this maiden apply to her mother or\nshall she follow the advice of the slave-girl, Doris?\u201d\n\nA whimpering sound like an infant\u2019s cry was heard.\n\nNinus bent lower and kissed the stone three times--a strange, weak\nvoice, which seemed to issue from it with difficulty, said slowly,\nsyllable by syllable, the two words:\n\n\u201c_O-bey Do-ris!_\u201d\n\nHipyllos had been made no wiser by this scene. He did not yet know what\nterrible thing had happened to Clytie or for what reason she sought\nadvice.\n\nThe priestess of Sabazius wiped the perspiration from her forehead,\nand in absolute silence washed the _baetylus_ and put on its swaddling\nclothes.\n\n\u201cSee!\u201d she said as she replaced it in the basket, \u201cthe spirit is\ndeparting again.... But know one thing, girl; you must do what the\n_baetylus_ advised; the \u2018Unknown\u2019 do not give their counsel in vain.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will do it,\u201d replied the muffled figure sighing. \u201cBut--the other\nthing of which Doris told you?\u201d\n\nNinus smiled.\n\n\u201cYou haven\u2019t seen him for ten days,\u201d she murmured. \u201cAnd you think that\nhe has forgotten you?\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Ninus!\u201d cried the girl, pressing her hand upon her bosom. \u201cHe is\nmy hope, my only hope. Your spells will not harm him?\u201d\n\nThere was such tender anxiety in the question, that Hipyllos felt an\nalmost unconquerable desire to spring forward and clasp the young girl\nin his arms.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Ninus. \u201cThese spells will do no harm. But, since I fulfil\nyour wishes in this, give me the ring you showed me just now.\u201d\n\nClytie hastened to comply with the demand.\n\nNinus then drew out an article wrapped in a cloth. \u201cThis is one of his\nsandals,\u201d she whispered. Scattering sulphur on the charcoal she held\nthe sandal in the smoke, then flung salt into the flame, saying in a\nslow, solemn tone:\n\n\u201cHi-pyl-los, Cly-ti-e!\u201d\n\nThe young man felt a shiver run through his limbs at hearing his name\nso suddenly.\n\nNinus glanced around. This was the moment when the person summoned,\ndrawn by an invincible power, ought to appear and fall at his loved\none\u2019s feet.\n\nThe priestess shrugged her shoulders.\n\n\u201cHm!\u201d she muttered, as though baffled. \u201cYour fear was not groundless,\npretty maid. Take this vessel I use in pouring libations and wrap the\npurple wool around it, put these laurel branches on the flames, hold\nthe wax near them, and set the dish beneath.\u201d\n\nAt the same time Ninus raised aloft a tri-colored wax image and flung\nfragrant boughs upon the fire before it.\n\n\u201cHear me, most terrible of goddesses, mysterious Hecate!\u201d she cried,\n\u201cmercifully aid us and make our spells more powerful than those\nof Medea and Circe. Let his blood burn as these laurel leaves are\nconsumed in the flame, and his heart bleed and melt with tenderness\nfor this maiden as this wax melts from the heat.\u201d\n\nNinus started and listened.\n\nThe baying of a dog was heard in the stillness of the night.\n\n\u201cHush!\u201d she muttered. \u201cI hear dogs barking. Hecate is near--in the\ncross-road yonder, where her altar stands. Strike these metal basins\nagainst each other--let the sound tell her that we feel her approach.\nOh, Hecate, stern, exalted goddess, I will pour three libations in thy\nhonor! Thrice accursed be each new fancy of the man this maiden loves.\nLet him instantly desert her rivals, as Theseus deserted the hapless\nAriadne.\u201d\n\nThen, seizing the wheel, she set it in motion.\n\n\u201cLet his footsteps circle around this maiden\u2019s dwelling, as this wheel\nturns on its axle. Direct his steps hither, lofty goddess,\u201d continued\nNinus, throwing a powder upon the charcoal. \u201c_Appear, oh Hipyllos,\nappear!_\u201d she called loudly. A clear yellow flame shot high into\nthe air and vanished with a faint crackling sound, like a flash of\nlightning.\n\nBy the glow the young girl had seen Hipyllos\u2019 face appear and disappear\nlike a vision in a dream--a wall seemed to open and close over it.\nTerror and surprise made her utter a piercing shriek. Ninus fancied\nherself watched and blew out the light.\n\nWhile Hipyllos, dazzled by the blaze, was groping his way around the\ncorner of the wall he heard the dry twigs snapping under hurried\nfootsteps. It was the two women, who were stealing away through the\nother end of the long arbor. He wanted to follow them, but ran into the\narms of the armorer\u2019s slave who was looking for him to say that his\nmaster had come. Almost at the same moment the door of Xenocles\u2019 house\nclosed with a bang, rendering farther pursuit useless.\n\nHe followed the slave into the shop. Sauros deserved credit for his\nwork; the cuirass fitted admirably. But Hipyllos did not hear the\nsmith\u2019s long explanations; his sole desire was to be alone with his\nthoughts. So, when the fitting was over, he hastily took his leave,\ncalled his slave, told him to light a torch and set out on his homeward\nway. His disappointment at pretty Clytie\u2019s escape had already vanished;\nnay even his anxiety about the trouble threatening her was forced to\nyield to the blissful thought of being beloved by the fairest maiden in\nAthens. He knew that now from her own lips--for it did not occur to him\nto doubt that the muffled figure was Clytie herself.\n\n\nXIII.\n\nThe following day Hipyllos returned from the race-course shortly\nafter noon and flung himself upon a couch; but his blood was too\nkeenly stirred for him to find immediate repose. He still saw and\nheard only the chariot-races. A long, long course, marble benches\nfilled with passionately excited spectators, slanting rows of chariot\nsheds, falling barricades, horses dashing forward four abreast,\nclouds of dust, clapping of hands, and shouts of: \u201cSpeude, speude!\u201d\n(haste) and: \u201cAristeue!\u201d (keep ahead)--all this had gone to his\nhead like intoxication. Gradually his excitement died away into a\npleasant lassitude, and at the same time his thoughts wandered to\nthe conjuration the day before in Sauros\u2019 garden. Again he heard the\npriestess of Sabazius say: \u201cYou think of him very often, pretty maid?\u201d\nand recalled the bewitching movement with which the young girl had bent\nher head and whispered the one word: \u201cAlways!\u201d that had almost made\nhim betray himself in his delight. He had reached this point in his\nlove-dream, when the door-keeper entered.\n\n\u201cA young slave-girl wants to speak to you,\u201d he said. \u201cShe has a letter\nfrom her mistress.\u201d\n\nHipyllos started from the couch.\n\n\u201cBring her in--quick.\u201d\n\nHe understood two things--that some misfortune must really have\nbefallen Clytie, and that what Doris had advised and the _baetylus_\nconfirmed was--to write to him.\n\nA young slave with a bright face entered and, folding her arms across\nher breast, bowed before him.\n\nHipyllos hastily advanced to meet her.\n\n\u201cIn the name of the gods, what has happened?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cThis letter will tell you,\u201d replied Doris--for it was she--and handed\nhim two wax-tablets folded together.\n\nHipyllos broke the ribbon that confined them, opened the tablets, and\nread the lines traced upon the wax. They ran as follows:\n\n  \u201cClytie, Xenocles\u2019 daughter, greets Hipyllos, Chaeretades\u2019 son.\n\n  \u201cIt is necessary, doubly necessary, for me to write, first for\n  the sake of the matter itself and secondly because a higher\n  power has counselled me to do so. But I shall make the message\n  short--for it concerns a misfortune. Know that my father, urged\n  by that man, has hastened my marriage, and the wedding will take\n  place in five days. Woe is me, funeral flambeaux would be more\n  welcome than those bridal torches. Yet how is escape possible?\n  Can a daughter contend against her father? Can a wife oppose her\n  husband? My mother kisses me and weeps with me, but says she\n  dares not do that. You, oh Hipyllos, are the only person with\n  whom I can seek refuge. What you will do, I know not. But I turn\n  to you as an ill-treated slave flies to the altar. Your vow that\n  day, in my mother\u2019s hearing, was no promise written in water. I\n  read sincerity and truth in your face, and since that hour I have\n  considered you the master of my life. You will not yield. In the\n  midst of my grief I have but _one_ joy--that you cannot see me.\n  My cheeks are crimson with shame, and my eyes are full of tears.\n  This letter, the first and last, I still write as a maiden.\u201d\n\nWhile reading these lines the most varied feelings assailed Hipyllos;\nhe felt both grieved and charmed. He again glanced over the letter,\nand the superscription awakened a feeling of delight. The young girl,\neducated under her mother\u2019s eye, was honesty itself--it had not once\noccurred to her to write anonymously. She did not utter a single unkind\nword about Acestor, the source of her trouble; she merely alluded to\nhim as \u201cthat man.\u201d And how touching was her confidence! She did not\nknow what he would do, yet she appealed to him as the only person with\nwhom she could find refuge. And the last warning that there was only a\nshort time for action she expressed in the words \u201cI write this _still_\nas a maiden.\u201d\n\nThere was something so womanly in the letter that Hipyllos felt his\nheart swell with pride and happiness. It seemed as though some part of\nthe lovely girl\u2019s personality clung to the wax tablets and the delicate\nlines traced upon them, and again he vowed to win her, cost what it\nmight.\n\nHipyllos glanced from the letter to the slave.\n\nShe was a blooming girl, sixteen or seventeen years old, rather tall\nthan short, with a brown skin and curling black hair. Her dress was a\nwhite linen robe, confined under the youthful bosom by a girdle striped\nwith blue and yellow.\n\nDoris smilingly returned the look. She understood the whole matter.\n\n\u201cWhy is the wedding so hurried?\u201d asked Hipyllos. \u201cWhy does it take\nplace in five days?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow should I know?\u201d replied Doris. \u201cSome of the slaves think Acestor\nneeds the dowry.\u201d\n\nHipyllos took from a low chest a reed, \u201cthe black kind,\u201d and a roll of\nthe papyrus known among dealers by the name of _taneotica_.\n\nWhile Doris, knowing that on her return she would be obliged to\ndescribe every couch, rug, and tripod, was gazing around the room,\nHipyllos sat down at a small table and wrote as his youth and love\ndictated:\n\n  \u201cI greet you, beautiful Clytie, my light, my soul, and my life!\n\n  \u201cYour letter has been a source of both terror and delight. But\n  the terror is conquered and the delight remains. Rely upon me,\n  I shall leave nothing untried. But should I not save you in the\n  five days, my advice is this: Feign illness, so that the marriage\n  must be delayed. I shall thus gain more time. And now farewell,\n  dearest treasure of my soul! Be of good courage and calm\n  yourself.\u201d\n\nA drachma was slipped with the letter into Doris\u2019 hand and, blushing\nfor joy, she left Hipyllos with the best wishes for him and Clytie.\n\nThe young man was scarcely alone ere he became absorbed in thought.\n\u201cFive days!\u201d he murmured, \u201cfive days!\u201d He could have killed Acestor,\nbut he perceived that violence was no way to win the fair girl. To go\nto Xenocles and tell him everything would certainly be the simplest\nmethod, but would the latter break his pledged word, especially so\nshort a time before the wedding? It surely was not probable. After\nlong irresolution Hipyllos thought of Thuphrastos. The old soldier was\nclever in everything he undertook, experienced in all the relations of\nlife, and renowned for his wise counsel. Besides, Clytie\u2019s father had\nthe greatest respect for him. Perhaps he might help.\n\n\nXIV.\n\nThe next moment Hipyllos was on his way to Thuphrastos. It was just\nthe hour between the time to go to market and the time of visiting the\ngymnasia. As the young man expected, he found the old captain at home.\nThe latter received him kindly and listened to him attentively but,\nwhen Hipyllos mentioned his real errand, Thuphrastos frowned and gave\nhim a flat refusal.\n\n\u201cWhat do you ask?\u201d he said in his rough way. \u201cI am to go to\nXenocles--and dictate to him to whom he shall marry his daughter? Make\nmyself a laughing-stock for him and others? No, young man, you don\u2019t\nknow Thuphrastos.\u201d\n\nHipyllos bent his head and fixed his eyes upon the ground. His last\nhope was destroyed.\n\nThere was a moment\u2019s silence, in which the dog was heard rattling his\nchain outside.\n\nThuphrastos straightened his grey robe, rubbed his bald pate, and\nabsently pulled his beard. Hipyllos felt ashamed of his request and\nlooked thoroughly disheartened. At last Thuphrastos laid his hand on\nhis shoulder and sat down on the couch by his side.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t lower your eyes like a woman,\u201d he said, and then added in a\nkinder tone: \u201cPluck up your courage! There are other ways and means.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d asked Hipyllos, raising his head.\n\n\u201cListen--I\u2019m going to give you a piece of advice. The old general\nStratocles once saw some of his heavy-armed troopers turn pale when\nabout to meet the foe. He instantly shouted: \u2018If any of you have\nforgotten anything in the camp, you can go and get it!\u2019 One man sneaked\ntimidly out of the ranks, followed by five or six others. \u2018Good!\u2019 cried\nStratocles, \u2018the cowards have gone! Now we have only brave men among\nus.\u2019 Then he rushed forward, and the enemy fled.... But, young man, you\ndon\u2019t yet fully understand?\u201d\n\nHipyllos made a gesture of denial.\n\n\u201cWell then,\u201d Thuphrastos continued with a certain impetuosity, as\nthough he could not utter what he had to say quickly enough, \u201cI think\nyour rival, Acestor, is a chatterer and a coward--I mean--that, like\nthose slaves, he must be brought to show himself in his true colors.\nThen Xenocles--without asking anybody\u2019s advice--will let him go.\u201d\n\n\u201cSplendid! Excellent!\u201d cried Hipyllos, clapping his hands. \u201cMen don\u2019t\npraise your clever counsel without cause. But how is this to be\nmanaged?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy Zeus, there\u2019s no difficulty about that. Make yourself small as he\nmakes himself great--feign to be timid, and let him show himself brave.\nThen, when he has puffed himself up well, give him a real fright.\nPretend that the meetings of the hetaeriae are discovered, that the\nhouse is surrounded by bowmen, and when he is trembling with terror and\ndoesn\u2019t know where to hide, do as Stratocles did with the cowards--give\nhim an excuse to slip away, and he\u2019ll speedily show the hollows under\nthe soles of his feet.\u201d\n\nHipyllos laughed. The pair talked together some time longer, and when\nthe young man went away all anxiety and doubt had forsaken him.\n\n\nXV.\n\nHipyllos\u2019 letter was a joy and comfort to Clytie, but it did not\nsoothe her. Five days was so short a time! Amid tears and caresses\nshe confided in her mother, and described Hipyllos with such loving\neloquence that Maira (her mother) was won over to her wishes. Though\nClytie had little faith in her intercession, she went to her and by\nentreaties and persuasions induced her to promise to tell her story to\nXenocles. Two of the five days had already passed, so there was no time\nto lose.\n\nThe next evening, when the husband and wife were supping together, the\nhusband comfortably extended on a couch and the wife sitting humbly\non its outer edge, Maira--not without a secret tremor--ventured\nto mention the subject; but the hot-tempered little man scarcely\nunderstood what she was talking about, ere he started up and repulsed\nher in such a way that she dared not revert to the matter again. Every\nhope of Maira\u2019s assistance was thus cut off, and to speak to her father\nherself did not even enter the young girl\u2019s mind. She could do nothing\nbut fix her last faint hope on Hipyllos.\n\nYet, when the day before the wedding arrived without any prospect\nof deliverance, Clytie ceased to weep and fell into a state of dull\ninsensibility, like a person who is utterly hopeless. \u201cWhat is the\nuse of pretending to be ill?\u201d she thought. They will say: \u201cIt is\nnothing--it will pass off! Can I oppose them all? Can I keep the bridal\nprocession waiting? No, even if I complain of sickness, they will lift\nme into the chariot and let that man carry me to his house.\u201d\n\nFrom that moment she felt as though she had no will in anything.\n\nWhen evening came, the last evening she was to spend under her parents\u2019\nroof, her mother and a few female slaves were busied about her in her\nmaiden-bower. It was a small room with reddish-brown walls, lighted by\na clay lamp which stood on a brass tripod. Clytie sat on a low chair,\nwith her face turned from the lamp, and Doris stood behind her in the\nact of fastening her hair into a knot. At the back of the room Maira\nand a middle-aged slave, who had been Clytie\u2019s nurse, were busied in\nexamining robes, kerchiefs, girdles, and over-garments, which they\nspread out on the young girl\u2019s bed, a small maple-wood couch, covered\nwith embroidered pillows and coverlets.\n\nA sorrowful, troubled mood prevailed. Even the atmosphere of the little\nroom was heavy, as though saturated with the peculiar damp freshness of\nwomen\u2019s clean garments, mingled with a penetrating odor of ointments\nand Median apples, the latter being laid between the stuffs to perfume\nthem. Now and then Clytie\u2019s mother and the nurse exchanged a few words,\nbut as softly as if they were trying not to disturb some sick person.\nClytie resigned herself in perfect silence to the care of her favorite\nattendant, and even the latter\u2019s nimble tongue was still.\n\nSuddenly a girl\u2019s merry voice was heard outside. According to ancient\ncustom the bride, on her marriage eve, bathed in water brought from the\nFountain of Enneacrunus.\n\nThis water must be brought by a virgin, and a young neighbor, Coronis,\nthe daughter of a rich basket-maker, who from childhood had been\nClytie\u2019s friend and looked up to her with admiration, had gone with her\nslaves to the fountain to fetch the water.\n\nAs she entered, a breath of gayety and life seemed to come into the\nsilent room. Coronis was a merry little maid, with a childish face,\nwhose dark eyes, lips, cheeks, dimples--all laughed. She was dressed\nentirely in white, and carried the laurel branch used for purification.\nThis she instantly put down by the door, as if to say: \u201cStay there, you\nuseless, solemn thing.\u201d\n\nShe had so much to tell that she scarcely took time to greet Clytie and\nher mother. She had met at the fountain two other bride-maids; they\nhad talked together, and Coronis therefore knew all about the weddings\nwhich were to take place the next day; she knew the fathers, mothers,\nbrides, and bridegrooms, and had a great deal to say about the marriage\ngarments, bridesmen, and nuptial banquets.\n\nWhen her story was ended, preparations were made for a ceremony which\nthe art of those days has represented upon many a vase.\n\nDoris placed a bath-tub shaped like a mussel-shell in the middle of\nthe floor, and set the full hydria beside it. Then, kneeling before\nher mistress, she loosed her girdle and unfastened the clasps on her\nshoulders. Two slight pulls were sufficient to make the garments fall\naround the hips, and from a cloud of white folds appeared the whole\nupper portion of the maiden\u2019s slender form, whose fairness, seen\nagainst the brown wall, became doubly dazzling and seemed created to\nensnare both eyes and hearts.\n\nNow began the familiar talk that always takes place among women on such\noccasions.\n\n\u201cHow beautiful you are, dear!\u201d exclaimed little Coronis, pressing a\nlight kiss on her friend\u2019s shoulder. \u201cWhat a complexion--what is the\nfinest Syrian stuff compared with its smoothness!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the middle-aged nurse, with as much self-satisfaction as\nthough she considered Clytie her own work, \u201cI know that even Leda\u2019s\nbosom was not more beautiful, ... no breast-band is needed here.\u201d\n\nDoris glanced with a smile at Coronis and the nurse.\n\n\u201cWhat you praise deserves the highest compliments,\u201d she said, \u201cbut it\nis not what I value most.\u201d With a look of earnest affection she knelt\nbefore Clytie, took her hand, and kissed it. \u201cWhat I value most is\nmy beautiful mistress\u2019 goodness. I have served her daily ever since\nshe was a little child--and never in that long time has she uttered a\nsingle unkind word.\u201d\n\n\u201cBelieve me, my Clytie,\u201d the mother added, not without a certain pride,\nthough her eyes were full of tears, \u201cyou will be fortunate and happy.\nWhat husband can fail to love you--so good and so beautiful!\u201d\n\nCoronis now took her friend by the hand. As Clytie rose, the garments\nslipped lower and remained lying around her on the floor like a broad\nwhite linen garland. An instant, but only an instant, the young girl,\nfaintly illumined by the lamp, stood in the white beauty of her snowy\nlimbs in the dusky room; then, with a swift movement, she stepped out\nof the folds of her robes into the bath-tub.\n\nCoronis, with a mischievous expression, raised the full hydria.\n\n\u201cPrepare to shiver, Clytie,\u201d she said laughing. \u201cI\u2019m going to do what\nis written in Lamprus\u2019 bath-song.\u201d And holding it so that the water\ntrickled down over the shining, supple body, she chanted in a low tone:\n\n   \u201cSlowly pour the fountain\u2019s water\n    O\u2019er the white neck of the bride;\n    Brow and bosom let it moisten,\n    Hand, and foot, and back, and side!\n    Soon the fair one will perceive the\n    Cooling freshness of the bath,\n    As her fair limbs\u2019 marble whiteness\n    The pink bloom of roses hath.\u201d\n\nWhile Doris was wiping her mistress\u2019 back with a soft woollen cloth,\nthe latter\u2019s eyes followed the quivering drops of water that chased and\nmingled with each other on her white neck before trickling in waving\nstreams over the smooth skin. Clytie was not vain of her beauty; but\nwhen, as now, she looked down over the soft slope of her shoulders\nand the chaste curves of her bosom she could not help receiving an\nimpression of something uncommonly pretty. The water had not only\nstrengthened her body, but given fresh vigor to her mind. A multitude\nof thoughts darted through her brain. Did not Homer himself tell the\nstory of a bloody war waged for a fair woman\u2019s sake? So woman\u2019s beauty\nmust be something precious. And for whom was _she_ destined?\n\nShe saw in imagination her bridegroom Acestor--stately and boastful,\nbut without a trace of Attic refinement, heavy and dull. She had only\ncast one hasty, timid glance at him, but a woman\u2019s glance is like a\nflash of lightning, and she had caught him fixing his eyes on her with\nan expression she had never seen. She felt that it was monstrous, a\ndesecration, to be given to this man, and secretly vowed to shun no\nmeans of escaping so bitter a fate.\n\nThis resolve was soon to be tested.\n\n\nXVI.\n\nScarcely had Maira, accompanied by the nurse, left the room to go with\nCoronis to the door and make a final survey of the house, when a noise\nlike a pebble flung against the wall was heard outside. Faint as the\nsound was, Doris started and Clytie, who was in the act of putting on\nher tunic, stopped, blushed crimson, and held her breath to listen.\n\nDoris ran to the peep-hole and drew the red curtain aside. A voice\nwhispered a few words which sounded like a question.\n\nBefore Doris replied, she turned towards Clytie and said: \u201cIt is his\nslave Manodoros.... He asks if you are alone.\u201d\n\nThen she put her head through the hole and answered in a smothered\ntone: \u201cYes, entirely alone. But what do you want? Speak. My mistress\u2019\nmother has just gone out, and will be back directly.\u201d\n\nAgain there was a whisper outside.\n\nDoris stretched her arm through the opening as far as she could. At\nthe same moment her neck and ears grew crimson, and she stamped her\nfoot impatiently. \u201cLet go!\u201d she cried, \u201clet go! This is no time for\ntrifling.\u201d When she again turned, she held in her hand a letter written\non a papyrus-scroll.\n\n\u201cRead it, dear Mistress,\u201d she said as she took the bath-tub and carried\nit away. \u201cI\u2019ll keep watch outside.\u201d\n\nClytie seized the letter with a trembling hand and broke the seal. The\ndull expression of her features had vanished, and her lovely face was\nradiant with expectation and hope.\n\nThe letter contained the following lines, which seemed to have been\nhastily written, for here and there a word was erased and changed for\nanother.\n\n  \u201cDEAREST CLYTIE!\n\n  \u201cYou are alone against many; I fear you may let yourself be\n  over-persuaded. You must fly; it is the only way of escape. The\n  priestess of Sabazius is willing to receive you. Doris must go,\n  too, or she will be tortured and confess everything.\n\n  \u201cIn the name of all the gods, do what I advise, my beloved. Have\n  you not yourself called me the lord of your life? You can easily\n  escape through the garden; keep concealed a few days, and all\n  danger will be over. I shall know how to soothe your father\u2019s\n  wrath. Besides, can it be counted against the many happy years\n  awaiting us?\u201d\n\nIf this letter had come earlier, Clytie would never have decided upon\na step so entirely opposed to what was seemly for an Attic maiden. The\nidea of quitting her father\u2019s roof would have appeared to her the most\nimpossible of all. Yet, now that her aversion to Acestor had become as\nintense as her love for Hipyllos, she thought the letter very bold, but\nat the same time perceived that Hipyllos told the truth. The danger was\nimminent, and there was no escape save flight if they were not to be\nparted forever.\n\n\u201cHe is right,\u201d she thought. \u201cI have called him the lord of my life.\nShould I then fail to fulfil his first command? No--I will do what he\ndirects--happen what may.\u201d\n\nWhen Doris entered to fetch the empty hydria, Clytie stood before her\nwith flushed cheeks and a glance which expressed firm resolution.\n\n\u201cWhen everything is quiet in the house,\u201d she said, \u201cI shall fly through\nthe garden. You will go with me.\u201d\n\nDoris stared at her in open-mouthed amazement; the empty hydria she\nhad taken dropped from her hand and broke with a rattling noise on the\ntiled floor.\n\n\u201cMay the gods avert the warning!\u201d she murmured, as she picked up the\npieces.\n\nBut Clytie did not allow herself to be disturbed.\n\n\u201cWhen father and mother are asleep,\u201d she continued, \u201cyou must slip into\ntheir chamber and get the key of the garden.\u201d\n\nDoris scarcely believed her ears. She no longer recognized Clytie. Was\nthis the timid young girl who had been afraid to meet Ninus and whom\nshe was obliged to lead step by step? Now it was Clytie who commanded\nand Doris who hesitated.\n\n\u201cBut, do you think, Mistress...?\u201d\n\nClytie raised her hand with a gesture that commanded silence.\n\nAt the same moment steps were heard outside. Clytie\u2019s mother returned\nand, sending Doris away, seated herself on the edge of the couch and\ndrew the young girl down beside her. This was the last evening the\ndaughter would spend at home. Maira tenderly stroked Clytie\u2019s hair,\nclasped her hands in her own, and talked a long time to her in a\nwhisper. When they at last parted it was reluctantly, after many an\nembrace and caress, and the eyes of both were wet with tears.\n\nClytie felt a twinge of remorse, but it did not change her resolve.\n\nTearing a strip of papyrus from Hipyllos\u2019 letter, she wrote the\nfollowing lines:\n\n  \u201cDear Mother!\n\n  \u201cForgive me, I must fly--I abhor that man. But do not fear! I\n  shall seek a safe place, where no harm will befall me. Doris goes\n  with me. In a few days, when the danger is over, I will come\n  back. Farewell, dear mother, blessings on you for your love! I\n  leave my father\u2019s house a virgin, and as a virgin I shall return.\u201d\n\nWhen Clytie had fastened the strip of papyrus with a pin to the pillow,\nshe gathered together the few articles of clothing she would need for\na short absence. Doris now came stealing in; she had been listening\noutside the chamber. Xenocles and his wife were not yet asleep,\nbut were talking to each other; she had heard them utter the word\n\u201cbride-man.\u201d\n\n\nXVII.\n\nAn hour later Doris again glided through the open hall of the women\u2019s\napartment, called the _prostas_, to the chamber occupied by Clytie\u2019s\nparents. She listened, but heard nothing; the conversation seemed to\nhave ceased. The room was one of the few apartments in a Greek house\nthat could be closed by a door. Fortunately this door was ajar, but to\nslip in Doris was obliged to push it farther open. Scarcely had she\ntouched it when she was startled by a loud, distinct creaking. She felt\nher cheeks grow bloodless, but she must go in. With the utmost caution\nshe again took hold of the door, and this time it opened noiselessly.\nSilently as a shadow she stole bare-footed into the room. A sultry,\nheavy atmosphere greeted her. She heard the breathing of the sleepers,\nbut there was no other sound. From the peristyle the faint light of\nthe night-heavens shone through the open doorway. Doris saw the bed\nindistinctly; something light trailed on the floor beside it--doubtless\na woman\u2019s long robes hanging from a chain. She cautiously groped her\nway forward, fearing to knock against something and make a noise. There\nwas a strange feeling of insecurity about her, and her feet seemed\nas heavy as lead. With dilated eyes she saw, or fancied that she saw,\ntwo human figures stretched upon the bed. Advancing a few steps nearer\nshe felt paralyzed with terror and on the point of falling. One of\nthe figures sat upright in the bed and turned its face towards her.\nShe could not see the eyes, but was aware that the person saw her\ndistinctly.\n\n\u201cIs it you, Doris? What do you want?\u201d a voice said, interrupting the\nsilence.\n\nDoris knew the tones, though amid the darkness and stillness of the\nnight they seemed to have a ghostly sound. It was Maira who spoke.\n\nThe mother was so engrossed by the thought of her daughter\u2019s wedding,\nthat she had not been greatly startled by seeing Doris glide in. The\nvoice merely sounded a little surprised.\n\nDoris could not answer; it was impossible for her to utter a single\nword.\n\n\u201cWhat do you want so late?\u201d Maira said again, this time with a touch of\nimpatience.\n\nDoris forced herself to control her voice.\n\n\u201cThe key....\u201d she stammered, \u201cI want to get the key.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe night-lamp has gone out, and I want to light it at the neighbor\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cSimpleton, you can light it from Clytie\u2019s. It is shining on the\npillars outside.\u201d\n\nThis was unanswerable--Doris thought her cause lost. But the very\nmagnitude of the danger forced her to calm herself. She drew a long\nbreath, and once more felt in possession of her wits. She _would_ have\nthe key. And all the resolution and defiance that exist in a firm\ndetermination suddenly filled her soul so completely that, heedless\nwhether she roused Xenocles or not, she went straight to her goal.\n\n\u201cBut I must have the key,\u201d she replied in a tone that sounded cold and\nstrange in her own ears, \u201cI want to pour out the bath-water.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet it stand till morning.\u201d\n\nDoris felt with her hand over the wall near the head of the bed and\nfound the nail with the three-toothed key, which she took quietly\nwithout any extreme haste.\n\n\u201cI dare not let the water stand,\u201d she said, \u201cmy mistress ordered me to\npour it out.\u201d\n\nWithout waiting for a reply, she left the room as lightly as a feather,\nand breathless with joy and excitement ran back to Clytie, before whom\nshe triumphantly held aloft the key.\n\nClytie clasped her in her arms and kissed her tenderly, then,\nwithout losing a moment, she gave her the bundle of clothes, threw\na blue-striped kerchief over her head, and holding her faithful\nmaid-servant\u2019s hand, glided out of the room.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nClytie\u2019s heart was throbbing with excitement. In passing on she raised\nthe curtain hanging at the door of the apartment in which stood the\nimages of the household gods, and bowing towards the little statues,\nwholly invisible in the gloom, murmured in a low tone:\n\n\u201cDo not be wrathful, protectors of my race! Do not desert me because I\nforsake you.\u201d\n\nThen, accompanied by Doris, she walked through the open hall into a\nlarge work-room set apart for women. The darkness here was so great\nthat nothing was visible save two narrow grey streaks; these were the\nloop-holes in the wall, through which the room received its light by\nday. A warm atmosphere, the heat emanating from human bodies, greeted\nthe fugitives, and they heard the heavy breathing of numerous sleepers.\nMost of the female slaves of the household spent the night here on\ncouches made of piles of cushions or felt rugs ranged along the wall.\nAs Doris moved towards the garden door she ran against something,\nprobably a tall tripod. She hastily caught at it, but in the darkness\nmissed her aim and it fell with a heavy crash, while a copper lamp\nwhich had stood upon it rattled on the stone floor. The slave women\nstarted from their sleep; the shrieks of one terrified the others till\nall vied in screaming. Hasty footsteps crossed the peristyle, and a\nman\u2019s voice cried angrily:\n\n\u201cWhat an ado! Why are you yelling so? What is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cHush, you simpletons!\u201d said Doris\u2019 well-known tones, \u201cdo you take\nme for a thief who has lifted the door off its hinges or dug his way\nthrough under the wall?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d asked the door-keeper of the women\u2019s\napartment; for it was he who had hurried in.\n\nMeantime Doris had found the lock and put the key in it.\n\n\u201cOh, pshaw!\u201d she replied, as though vexed by so much disturbance,\n\u201cI\u2019m going to pour out the bath-water. In the dark I ran against a\ntripod--it fell, and so they screamed as if they were possessed by some\nevil demon.\u201d\n\nWith these words she opened the door, pushed Clytie out, and followed\nherself.\n\nThe fugitives now found themselves in the garden. Here the darkness\nwas not too great to permit them to distinguish without difficulty the\npaths winding between the black masses of the shrubs and trees. A damp\nwind blew into their faces and the odor of the flowers was oppressively\nstrong; they heard a rustling among the leaves, like the sound of dice\ndropping on a copper shield, and big drops fell singly.\n\nAfter the anxiety she had experienced Clytie felt unspeakable relief.\nIt seemed as if she inhaled liberty with every breath of the\nnight air, and she thought with a touch of joyful dread of meeting\nHipyllos. Doris was still absorbed by the remembrance of the nocturnal\ndisturbance in the house, but consoled herself by thinking that the\ndoor-keeper would explain everything.\n\nOutside the garden gate stood two dark figures. One wore his hair cut\nshort--so he was a slave; the other had long locks, and though both\nappeared like dim black outlines Clytie instantly recognized Hipyllos\nby the stately way in which his mantle was draped about him--in itself\nsufficient to mark the young Eupatride.\n\nClytie\u2019s heart beat faster, and she suddenly trembled in every limb\nas she had done the evening she stole out to meet the priestess of\nSabazius. She had scarcely stepped outside of the garden, when Hipyllos\nhurried towards her.\n\n\u201cI thank you,\u201d he said, \u201cblessings on you for coming.\u201d\n\nThe young girl made no reply; she was far too much agitated and\nconfused to be able to utter a single word.\n\n\u201cYou saw the necessity,\u201d Hipyllos continued, \u201cand besides....\u201d\n\nHe paused and, smiling, gazed into her face; he had never seen her look\nlovelier. The blue-striped kerchief she had thrown over her head cast a\nslight shadow upon her features, which lent them a mysterious charm.\n\n... \u201cAnd besides,\u201d he added, \u201cyou wrote that you trusted me.\u201d\n\nClytie raised her dark eyes to him.\n\nHipyllos threw his arm around her waist, and though he felt a slight\nmovement of resistance he led her in this way the short distance to the\nhired house where the priestess of Sabazius lived. It was a dwelling\ncalled a _tristegos_, a three-storied house which belonged to Sauros,\nthe armorer, and stood close beside his workshop.\n\nAt the first subdued tap of the knocker, Ninus was ready and opened the\ndoor.\n\nHipyllos clasped both of Clytie\u2019s hands.\n\n\u201cWe must part,\u201d he said. \u201cBut, whatever happens, do not go home until\nyou have received a message from me. And now farewell, you beautiful\none, you darling, you light of my life!\u201d\n\nHe pressed her to his breast, and ere she could prevent it he had\nsnatched a kiss.\n\nBut Clytie tore herself from his embrace, gathered the folds of her\nrobe around her, and fled as lightly as a deer up the steps, where her\nslender figure vanished in the darkness.\n\nHipyllos gazed after her.\n\n\u201cBy Aphrodite,\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cshe is like a butterfly.\u201d\n\n\nXIX.\n\nMaira did not sleep much that night. The next morning she was surprised\nnot to see Doris flitting about the house, and having found Clytie\u2019s\nroom empty, she did not doubt that her daughter was in the garden with\nher favorite attendant. She went there and called repeatedly; but, when\nsilence was the only reply, a presentiment of misfortune darted through\nher mind. She hurried back to Clytie\u2019s chamber, searched it, found the\npapyrus note on the pillow, and read its contents with breathless haste.\n\n\u201cMerciful Gods!\u201d she exclaimed, clasping her hands. \u201cGone--fled in the\nnight!... Clytie, Clytie, how could you cause me such sorrow? Make our\nhouse the scorn of envious neighbors--What will your father say? He\nwill rage and curse you....\u201d\n\nSuddenly a revulsion of feeling came over her.\n\n\u201cWell, let him rage,\u201d she murmured, \u201clet him rage and call down\ncurses.... To drive my Clytie to this! How she must have suffered! But,\nby Hera, he shall hear the truth.\u201d\n\nShe was already on her way to her chamber, when she paused.\n\n\u201cWhat am I doing!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cThe first thing is to conceal\nClytie\u2019s flight. No one must suspect that her room is empty.\u201d\n\nCalling Eunoa, the oldest female slave in the house, she said to her:\n\u201cClytie is ill. Sit down here outside of her door and let no one enter,\nnot even her nurse. Do exactly as I tell you.\u201d\n\nEunoa opened her eyes in astonishment; she had never heard her mistress\nspeak in so curt and imperious a tone.\n\nWhen Maira entered her bed-room, there was a certain solemnity in her\nmanner that attracted Xenocles\u2019 attention. Stretching himself on the\ncouch, he beckoned to her.\n\nBut, instead of taking her seat on the edge, Maira remained standing\nbefore him, gazing steadily into his face. Xenocles scarcely believed\nhis eyes. It was the first time during the twenty years of their\nmarried life that his wife had not instantly done whatever he requested.\n\n\u201cSit down,\u201d he repeated, again pointing to the seat.\n\nMaira did not seem to hear.\n\n\u201cI have evil tidings,\u201d she said coldly. \u201cA misfortune has happened to\nus during the night.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it? What is it?\u201d cried the excitable little man, and pointing\nto the strip of papyrus she held in her hand, he asked: \u201cIs this the\nmisfortune?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is from Clytie,\u201d replied Maira, and read the contents in a tone\nwhich seemed to imply that the matter was no concern of hers.\n\nAt the words: \u201cForgive me, I must fly,\u201d Xenocles started and, with a\nstiff movement, as though both his limbs had suddenly become one, he\nswung himself up from his reclining posture and put his feet on the\nfloor so that he sat erect on the couch. He seemed to have been struck\nspeechless, and his hands fumbled with his belt, which he had not yet\nbuckled.\n\nHe was thinking of Clytie\u2019s childhood, of her pretty, gentle face, her\ninnocent caresses. His eyes filled with tears--he could not believe\nthat she had gone.\n\nMaira was a good wife and loved her husband tenderly; but she was not\nmore generous than the majority of the female sex. Deeply as Xenocles\nwas moved, it did not occur to her to spare him. All that she had\nsilently endured for years must be uttered.\n\n\u201cNow we have no daughter,\u201d she said, as a sort of preamble.\n\nXenocles was silent, the muscles around his mouth twitched convulsively.\n\nA pause ensued. At that early hour of the morning the house was so\nstill that the flies were heard buzzing in the sunshine on the rush\ncarpet inside the door.\n\n\u201cIt would have been better,\u201d Maira continued, \u201cif you had not always\nhad your head filled with your plans and measurements for buildings.\nWhole days passed without your saying a word to Clytie or me, and if\nI spoke to you about anything that disturbed you, I was so harshly\nrebuffed that I often dared not address you. Doris the slave-girl\nknew ten times as much about Clytie\u2019s affairs. By Adrasteia, it\u2019s an\neasy matter to be a father, if a man considers it enough to give his\ndaughter home and clothes and food. But, if you had had any love for\nyour child, had you suspected what she hoped and longed for, had you\nknown what she feared more than death--this misfortune would not have\nbefallen us.\u201d\n\nXenocles gazed at Maira as though she were a stranger. He understood\nthat it was maternal affection which made her so strong, and at the\nsame time dimly felt that perhaps he had some reason to reproach\nhimself.\n\nHe bent his head.\n\n\u201cWhat is to be done?\u201d he murmured. \u201cTell me, Maira. You have always\nbeen a good wife to me.\u201d\n\nAt these simple words all Maira\u2019s wrath vanished. She involuntarily\nsat down beside her husband and, as their eyes met, she threw her arms\naround his neck and kissed him.\n\n\u201cFirst,\u201d she whispered, \u201cwe must conceal Clytie\u2019s flight. Then you\nmust--better now than later--go to Acestor and tell him that Clytie is\nill and the wedding must be postponed. You can say she is delirious and\nno one is allowed to see her.\u201d\n\nXenocles rose.\n\n\u201cIt will be a hard task,\u201d he said.\n\nFortunately Acestor\u2019s house stood in the Melitan quarter so Xenocles,\nwhile on his way to it, had time to clear his brain.\n\nAs he had feared, he found the slaves in the act of decorating the\nbuilding with garlands and green branches.\n\n\u201cTake all this down!\u201d said the impetuous little man. \u201cThe bride is ill.\nThere will be no wedding.\u201d\n\nThe door-keeper, who was standing at the half-open door watching the\nslaves, heard these words and hurrying to his master, repeated them\nwhile announcing the visitor.\n\nXenocles was not a man to stand waiting at an open door, especially\nin the house of his future son-in-law. He followed close behind, but\nwhile crossing the peristyle he started at the sound of a blow, and\ndistinctly heard the words:\n\n\u201cTake that, bird of misfortune, for your evil tidings.\u201d\n\nAcestor received Xenocles with a sullen face and frowning brow.\n\n\u201cIs what this blockhead says true?\u201d he asked, without letting Xenocles\nhave time to speak.\n\n\u201cThe gods have given me a bitter cup to drain,\u201d replied the little man\nwith dignity. \u201cMy daughter has had a sudden attack of illness. She is\ndelirious, and no one is permitted to see her. The wedding must be\ndeferred.\u201d\n\nAcestor made no reply, but stared angrily into vacancy.\n\n\u201cStrange!\u201d he muttered, \u201cA bride who falls ill on her wedding day--who\never heard of such a thing? By Zeus, this or something else seems to\nme a bad omen. Do not forget that you owe me compensation and, by the\ngods, a double one. In the first place the girl is beautiful enough for\nmany to desire to wed her, even without a dowry, and secondly I had\ncalculated on the amount agreed upon as a sum of which I was sure.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will think of it,\u201d replied Xenocles coldly, and went away even more\ndispleased with Acestor than with himself.\n\nOn the walk home he recalled the events of the morning and, as Clytie\u2019s\nflight, Maira\u2019s reproaches, and Acestor\u2019s greed passed through his\nmind, he sighed heavily and exclaimed:\n\n\u201cThe gods know where all this will end.\u201d\n\n\nXX.\n\nTwo days after the hetaeria assembled at Lamon\u2019s home. The house, where\nfor many generations a large bleaching business had been carried on,\nstood on the side of the Museium. All the water used was laboriously\ndrawn up by slaves or beasts of burden; but on the other hand the dust\nof the city did not rise here, so the cloth could be dried in the open\nair, and moreover there was no trouble with road-inspectors on account\nof the waste-water. It ran down the hill-side unheeded.\n\nTo reach the door, customers from the lower part of the city\nwere obliged to pass around the longest wing of the house; this\ninconvenience had been endured for many generations. They followed, as\nit were, the customs of their forefathers and the idea of change did\nnot occur to them.\n\nBut Lamon had understood how to help himself. By the side of the\nbleaching-room was one for hanging clothes which looked out upon the\nlower part of the city and this, for his customers\u2019 convenience, he\nhad transformed into an open shop, by first replacing the outer wall\nby a few pillars and then having a marble-topped counter built across\nthe stone floor. On this customers laid their bundles and from it was\ndelivered the finished work which, furnished with the owner\u2019s mark,\nhung on the wall inside. In the evening the place of the outer wall was\nsupplied by a curtain, and at night with a grating reaching from roof\nto floor.\n\nIn this room, next in size to the workshop, the secret society had\nassembled. It was late in the evening, and at each end of the counter\nlamps were burning on tall brass tripods. The green curtain between the\npillars was drawn, and closed the apartment like a wall.\n\nBusiness discussions had not yet commenced; Thuphrastos and Hipyllos\nwere talking about armor and weapons. Xenocles had several times given\nsigns of impatience, till at last Sthenelus laughed, saying:\n\n\u201cLet the weapons rest! Xenocles has something to tell and, it seems to\nme, something important.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, by Zeus, I have!\u201d cried the eager little man and, glancing\ncautiously around him in every direction, he whispered: \u201cI fear we are\nbetrayed.\u201d\n\nAcestor started from his couch.\n\n\u201cBetrayed?\u201d he repeated with evident anxiety.\n\nXenocles looked enquiringly at Sthenelus, who nodded assent.\n\n\u201cI was talking with Sthenelus this morning at the market,\u201d the little\nwhite-haired man continued. \u201cWe were standing in front of the arcade of\nZeus the Liberator and, when we parted Sthenelus called after me: \u2018You\nknow we meet this evening at Lamon\u2019s.\u2019 The words were spoken by the\nstatue of Zeus the Liberator. As I turned to go, Sthenelus pointed to\nthe ground. A little round shadow, like a man\u2019s head, appeared in the\ngreat one cast by the pedestal. Urged by the same fear, we both hurried\nbehind the statue and saw a thin man with tangled hair walking rapidly\naway. He was scarcely ten paces from us.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho was the man?\u201d asked Acestor breathlessly.\n\n\u201cCephisodemos.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne of the most dangerous informers.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s all over with us!\u201d murmured Lysiteles rising.\n\nDrops of perspiration stood on Acestor\u2019s brow; nevertheless he strove\nto appear calm, and proposed that the meeting should break up and each\nperson go to his own home.\n\nThuphrastos took a different view of the matter. He wanted to judge for\nhimself, and therefore asked one question after another. Had the market\nechoed with shouts and cries or was the time for buying and selling\nover? How far from the statue were the speakers standing? He put these\nand several more questions, then when he had learned what he wished to\nknow he shrugged his shoulders saying:\n\n\u201cNo one can judge with certainty whether the spy heard anything or\nnot, but an empty fear ought not to put men to flight. Let us go on as\nthough nothing had happened.\u201d\n\nThere was such perfect calmness in Thuphrastos\u2019 manner that it\ncommunicated itself to the others. Only Acestor and Lysiteles seemed\nundecided for a moment; but, when the others remained, they were\nashamed to go and stayed also.\n\nIt was easy to see that Acestor had had some great plan in view. He\nwas clad in all the splendor with which he appeared in the popular\nassemblies; his long, carefully arranged hair was perfumed, he had\ndonned a dazzlingly white chiton, adorned around the neck and at the\nbottom with an embroidered blue border, and on the fore-finger of his\nright hand he wore a large seal ring.\n\n\nXXI.\n\nAcestor did not instantly commence what he had to say. Calmness must\nfirst be restored to the minds of the assembly so, glancing with\na smile around the circle, he began in a tone intended to command\nattention.\n\n\u201cIs it not true, oh! my friends, that you would be greatly amazed if I\nsaid: \u2018You have never seen Athens.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d exclaimed Xenocles, who was always too impatient to\nlike riddles.\n\n\u201cYou know,\u201d Acestor continued, \u201cthat some faces, to appear beautiful,\nshould be seen from the front, others from the side. That is the way\nwith cities--some should be seen from the sea, others from the land....\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd whence shall Athens be seen?\u201d asked Xenocles, to whom this\nintroduction seemed too long.\n\n\u201cBy Zeus, from this spot.\u201d\n\nLamon smiled.\n\n\u201cWhy yes,\u201d he said, \u201cPythocleides from Ceos, Pericles\u2019 first teacher\nin the arts of the Muses, came here in his old age. He was perfectly\nbewitched by the view of the city, and used to say afterwards: \u2018No one\nhas seen Athens save he who has beheld it from Lamon\u2019s house on the\nMuseium.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, show us Athens!\u201d cried Sthenelus. \u201cBy Pan, you have made me\nvery curious though, having been born in the Street of the Sculptors, I\nthought I knew the city.\u201d\n\nLamon made a sign to Acestor and the two men, each from his own side,\ndrew the green curtain apart between the pillars.\n\nThe first impression was so overpowering that no one found words to\npraise it. Beyond the dark frame formed by the roof, pillars, and floor\nof the apartment the whole space was filled with a subdued light, like\na bluish mist. The moon itself was not visible; it was obliquely\nbehind the house. The transition from the lamp-light had been so sudden\nthat at first the group could see nothing; but scarcely had the tripods\nwith the lamps been moved farther back ere the outlines of stately\nhouses and the dark tops of trees began to appear.\n\nIn front of the house, towards the brow of the hill, was a stone\nbalustrade, on which stood vases containing large-leaved plants.\nBehind these, far down in the valley, were seen like a forest the\nwide-stretching k\u0113poi or gardens, amid whose dark poplars and cypresses\nshone here and there a curve of the Ilissus, glittering like molten\nsilver. Not far from the foot of the hill spread the low Limnae with\nits labyrinth of buildings, and the ancient sanctuary of Dionysus,\nwhich seemed buried in the shadows of the night. Farther away red\nspecks of light gleamed through the dusk; they moved very slowly,\nmeeting, crossing, and moving away from each other--they were the\ntorches carried by pedestrians along the way leading from the citadel\nto the market. Beyond this tract the ground rose in three or four\nlofty undulations, on whose crests appeared houses and trees, among\nthe latter single palms, but distant and small, like delicately carved\ntoys. Between the largest of these hills the flat top and steep sides\nof the Acropolis towered dark and frowning into the air. Close against\nthe cliff, as if comparing itself with it, stood the vast Theatre of\nDionysus, over whose encircling wall the eye pierced the dark gulf\nformed by the steeply-rising seats. But on the summit, towering over\nthe low Limnae, glimmered the white marble temple, with its delicate,\nshadowy rows of columns, above which again rose the colossal statue of\nthe patron goddess of Athens, visible for miles away, as in motionless\ngrandeur it seemed to both rule and watch.\n\nA strangely sublime impress rested upon this whole landscape, where the\ngods had once wandered and where, so to speak, each spot was sacred.\nUpon the height Pallas Athene had planted the olive-tree sacred to\nher, and yonder, by the shore of the Ilissus, almost on the very spot\nwhere his altar stood, Boreas had borne away the Princess Oreithyia.\nSometimes a cool evening breeze, following the course of the stream,\nswept through the valley. A distant, confused sound, the breathing of\nthe half slumbering city, then reached the ear; but when the wind died\naway everything was still, and houses, trees, and mountains, steeped in\nthe melancholy lustre of the moonbeams, once more rose before the eyes\nin majestic silence.\n\n\u201cMagnificent! Marvellous!\u201d exclaimed little Xenocles, extending his\narms towards the city as though he would fain embrace it.\n\n\u201cFriends,\u201d said Acestor, but paused while his glance wandered around\nthe room as though in search of something.\n\nSthenelus\u2019 eyes twinkled; he knew all Acestor\u2019s tricks of art.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d he said, \u201cAcestor wants the bema.[L] But if you are willing,\nLamon, surely he can speak from the marble counter.\u201d\n\n                                  [L] Orator\u2019s stage.\n\nLamon, who was again drawing the green curtain between the pillars,\nmade a sign of assent.\n\nSthenelus, spite of his lameness, dragged a bench up to the counter.\n\n\u201cThe bema is ready,\u201d he said, offering Acestor his hand.\n\nThe latter took it, and stepped clumsily upon the bench and from the\nbench to the counter. He was apparently no adept in physical exercises\nand, when he visited the gymnasia, doubtless did so only to meet\norators and poets in the arcades.\n\nAfter having thrown back his head and shut his eyes to collect his\nthoughts, he extended both hands.\n\n\u201cFriends,\u201d he said, and his powerful voice filled the room so that it\ngave back a resonant echo, \u201cwhat the eye-ball is to the eye, Athens\nis to Hellas. As an orator and teacher of the art of oratory, I have\ntravelled through many lands and visited many cities. I don\u2019t say this\nto pride myself upon it, but to show that I am competent to judge. I\nhave seen what great cities are, and how they are governed. Now I say\nto you: Athens is going to her destruction! If I--which perhaps I am\nnot quite unworthy to do--stood at the head of public affairs, I should\nknow well what was needed. Then, like a second Pericles.\u201d\n\nAt this comparison Thuphrastos knit his brows; the blood rushed to his\nbrain and, clenching his hands, he rose from the couch. Every one was\naware that he had known Pericles and admired him with his whole soul.\n\nThere was perfect silence in the room. All eyes rested on Thuphrastos,\nwho walked straight to the counter, seized Acestor by his bare leg, and\nshook him, saying:\n\n\u201cCome to your senses, Sacas! You forget how wide is the gulf between\nyou and a Pericles.\u201d\n\nAt the slave name of Sacas Acestor sprung heavily down on the tiled\nfloor. He was deadly pale, his eyes sparkled with a fierce, gloomy\nlight, and he raised his hand to deal a blow.\n\nThuphrastos did not make the slightest movement to parry it; folding\nhis arms across his chest, he held his furious antagonist in check with\nhis cold glance, as though he had been a vicious dog. For a moment the\ntwo men stood motionless, gazing into each other\u2019s faces, then they\nfelt a grasp on the arm that seemed like an iron band.\n\n\u201cNo quarrelling!\u201d said Lamon\u2019s deep voice and, as the simplest way of\nrestoring peace, he seized Acestor round the loins and lifted him on\nthe counter as easily as if he had been a child. \u201cTalk on!\u201d he added\ncurtly, and returned to his seat without looking at him as though it\nwas a matter of course that he should be obeyed.\n\nAcestor passed his hand across his brow several times, and it was long\nere he could control his voice.\n\n\u201cIf we desire to save Athens,\u201d he at last resumed, \u201cwe must manage to\nhave the friends of the rulers kept away from the popular assemblies.\nThen it will not be difficult to destroy them; for they have many foes.\u201d\n\nLamon and Sthenelus uttered a murmur of disapproval.\n\nIt was a special agreement that the hetaeria should labor only for the\nadvantage of fellow members, and not meddle in affairs of state. After\nexchanging glances with Hipyllos, Thuphrastos, to the surprise of every\none, made a gesture as if he were not yet weary of hearing what Acestor\nhad to say. Still, the latter felt that his listeners were not in\nharmony with him; he paused abruptly, as if his thoughts were eluding\nhim, and then added, raising his voice louder and louder as though\ntrying to deafen himself with his own words:\n\n\u201cCharicles and Aristocrates ought to resign their offices, Peisandros\nmust be banished and Phanos, who has made so many citizens wretched by\nhis pursuit of the hetaeriae, should not only forfeit his position as\nclerk, but have erected in some conspicuous place a pillar of infamy\nbearing his name.\u201d\n\nHere Acestor suddenly stopped and stared with dilated eyes at the\ncurtain between the pillars, as though he had beheld through an opening\nall the horrors of Hades. Without adding another word, he jumped down\nfrom the counter and pointed with trembling hand to the threshold\nbetween the columns.\n\nAll followed the direction of his eyes.\n\nUnder the green curtain was seen on each side a pair of feet. The\nsight of these motionless feet aroused an indescribable excitement\namong the men. At first no one believed his eyes; then all rose from\ntheir couches. It was so still that, for the first time in the course\nof the evening, the water was heard trickling in the fulling-room\nadjoining.\n\n\u201cDunces of slaves!\u201d muttered Lamon, shaking his clenched hand towards\nthe interior of the house. \u201cYou have forgotten the garden. They have\ncome upon us from the hill.\u201d\n\nHipyllos exchanged a significant glance with Thuphrastos and, pointing\nto Acestor, said in a very low tone:\n\n\u201cIt has turned out differently from what we expected. The jest has\nbecome earnest.\u201d\n\n\nXXII.\n\nScarcely had the sudden silence warned those standing outside that they\nwere discovered, when the curtain was drawn back.\n\nThe clerk Phanos, the persecutor of the hetaeriae, entered the room,\nwhile his companion, a subaltern officer of the city police, remained\nstanding at the entrance.\n\n\u201cThe house is surrounded!\u201d cried the latter in a loud voice. \u201cNo one\ncan escape.\u201d\n\nWith these words he pulled the curtain farther aside and beyond it\nappeared, like a living wall, the dark figures of the toxoternae or\nbowmen, whose helmets, spears, and shields flashed in the torchlight.\n\nAll eyes were fixed on Phanos, a small, stout man, with a pale,\nhandsome face. A lock of black hair hung low on his forehead, but\nthe most remarkable thing about him was his eyes--a pair of clear,\nlight-blue eyes, sparkling with intelligence, whose gaze was doubly\npiercing because he bent his head a little and looked out from under\nhis eye-brows. It was evident that those eyes forgot no one, and that\neach person on whom they rested might as well have been recorded in a\nbook. He wore a plain white robe, entirely without ornament, and had\nthrown a brown mantle around him.\n\nAt sight of Phanos Acestor made a movement as though he were about\nto escape through the peristyle. \u201cWhere are you going?\u201d whispered\nThuphrastos. \u201cYou will run directly into the arms of the archers. No,\nhide, hide!--Phanos has heard every word.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn there!\u201d added Xenocles hastily, pointing to the door of the\nbleaching-room. \u201cHe hasn\u2019t seen you yet. Perhaps you will be forgotten.\u201d\n\nAcestor crept behind the counter and stole like a thief into the\nbleaching-room, closing the door carefully behind him.\n\nIt was quite time. Half a score of the slaves of the city police\npressed in from the peristyle and watched every exit, among them the\ndoor through which Acestor had slipped.\n\nWhile this was happening Phanos had gazed sternly around him, but at\nthe sight of Thuphrastos and Xenocles his face brightened. Approaching\nLamon, the owner of the house, he held out his hand.\n\n\u201cLamon,\u201d he said, in so loud a tone that the officer and slaves could\nhear, \u201cit is fortunate for you that I meet men like Thuphrastos and\nXenocles here. I know them--they are plotting no evil. Your hetaeria\ndoes not seem to be of the sort we so rigidly pursue. You are\noffice-seekers, not men striving to usurp the government. I have now\nseen with my own eyes.... Yet--did I not hear a chatterer shrieking\namong you? He has shouted intolerably long; I\u2019ll close his lips.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you heard that,\u201d replied Lamon, \u201cyou must have heard our\ndisapproval.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then,\u201d continued Phanos, \u201cspeak frankly. To what places do you\nwant to be elected?\u201d\n\nLamon--and then the others--obeyed the command without hesitation.\n\n\u201cVery well!\u201d Phanos then continued, \u201cpromise to break up the hetaeria,\nand you shall lose nothing. The places of which we dispose are not\ndependent upon election, but are appointments. But there must be no\nmore meetings of the hetaeria. If, in spite of your promise, you\nsecretly assemble, woe betide you! No punishment will be too severe for\nus.\u201d\n\nWithout bending an inch, or condescending to flattery, Thuphrastos\nthanked the clerk for his consideration and, after having exchanged\nglances with Lamon and the others, promised, in the name of himself\nand his friends, to disband the hetaeria.\n\nPhanos now turned towards Hipyllos, the youngest of the group.\n\n\u201cBring me that shrieker,\u201d he said to him, \u201cthe only one of you who\nfled.\u201d And, with a smile that showed he had noticed everything, he\npointed to the door of the bleaching-room and added, \u201cYou\u2019ll find him\nin there.\u201d\n\nNo command could have been more welcome to Hipyllos. His heart throbbed\nwith joyous anticipation; he had a presentiment that he was near his\naim.\n\n\nXXIII.\n\nThe sentinel at the door made way at a sign from Phanos, and Hipyllos\nhurried into the bleaching-room.\n\nA suffocating odor of sulphur, mingled with a horrible smell of urine\nand soap, greeted him. A copper lamp was burning on a tripod placed\nnear the wall, and he scanned the whole apartment with a single glance.\nAt the back were five recesses in the wall containing reservoirs of\nwater, where lay soaking the material to be stamped by the slaves on\nthe morrow. In the middle of the workshop stood a large stone table,\non which lay some batlets. On the left, over a pole under the ceiling,\nhung a purple robe, in whose lower folded part was flung an iron\nteasel. Behind this article of clothing one could see the drying-room,\nwhere Hipyllos noticed hundreds of garments hanging on long poles. He\nwas going to creep under them, when he heard a smothered sound from\nthe opposite direction. Here, ranged along the wall, stood a number of\nwicker baskets, the height of a man, which resembled hen-coops. Clothes\nwere spread over five or six where, as the vapor in the room showed,\nsulphur had been recently lighted to give them the requisite whiteness.\nFrom one of the centre ones issued a strange stifled moaning.\n\n\u201cI have him!\u201d murmured Hipyllos smiling, as he took hold of the handle\non top shaped like an owl, the sacred bird of Athens. When he had\nremoved the basket, Acestor sat crouching before him with half-closed\neyes, panting and groaning, almost fainting. The sulphur under the\nclothes had nearly smothered him, and Hipyllos found it difficult to\nlift him upon his legs.\n\nBut how entirely transformed was the stately Acestor! A couple of small\nmetal jars filled with powdered sulphur had been placed under the\nbasket, ready for the next day\u2019s bleaching. In his confusion and terror\nAcestor had overturned them and, as he had afterwards pressed his\nhands on his head, he had filled his hair, eye-brows, and beard with\nsulphur, besides yellow spots on his nose, forehead, and cheeks. He had\nno sooner taken a few long breaths when he began to sneeze as though\nhis head would burst. He seemed to be completely stupefied; his limbs\ntottered under him and he allowed himself to be led like a child.\n\nWithout wasting a word upon him, Hipyllos brought him before the\nwaiting group.\n\nAt sight of this pitiful figure all burst into a shout of laughter;\neven the slaves mounting guard laughed till the spears shook in their\nhands.\n\n\u201cWhy, why,\u201d said Phanos, \u201cis this the hero who banishes officials and\nerects pillars of infamy? Who would believe it? Does he look like a\nmurderer?\u201d\n\nA fresh burst of laughter greeted the words.\n\n\u201cBut--dangerous or not,\u201d Phanos continued, \u201che has committed a crime\nand deserves punishment.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat has he done?\u201d asked Xenocles.\n\n\u201cHe is a spurious citizen. His father\u2019s name cannot be found in the\ntemple of Apollo Patrous.\u201d\n\nAcestor raised his head and fixed his eyes on Phanos with a venomous\nglance.\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken,\u201d he said. \u201cIt can be found there.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the side of _your_ father\u2019s name.\u201d\n\nPhanos recoiled a step as though struck by an invisible shaft; but the\nnext moment the veins in his temples swelled, and his eyes flashed.\n\n\u201cWretch!\u201d he exclaimed, his lips quivering with indignation. \u201cMy\nfather\u2019s name is not to be found in the temple--he was, as every one\nknows, a freedman. Nevertheless, my right to citizenship is a legal\none, bestowed for services rendered to the state. Note this, Gobryas,\nson of Tisamenos.\u201d\n\nThese words fell upon Acestor like a thunder-bolt. At hearing his\nname, his real name, which he had believed concealed from every one, he\nperceived that all was discovered.\n\nThrowing himself at Phanos\u2019 feet, he raised his arms submissively.\n\n\u201cMercy!\u201d he murmured, \u201cmercy!\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you know the dungeons in the cliff?\u201d asked Phanos sternly.\n\nAcestor made a sign of assent.\n\n\u201cWell! Sthenelus can tell you what rumor says of them.\u201d\n\nMerry Sthenelus limped a few steps nearer, cleared his throat, and\nanswered in a sepulchral voice:\n\n\u201cRumor says that prisoners _walk_ into them, but are _carried_ out,\nfeet foremost.\u201d\n\nAcestor kissed the edge of Phanos\u2019 robe.\n\n\u201cMercy!\u201d he cried. \u201cMercy! Forgive my evil speech.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpare him,\u201d said Xenocles.\n\n\u201cLet him run,\u201d added Thuphrastos.\n\n\u201cWell then,\u201d replied Phanos, \u201cyou boasted of your travels, Acestor. You\nmust journey farther still. If you don\u2019t want to have your hair clipped\nand become a slave for having your name spuriously inserted on the\ncitizens\u2019 list, you must leave Athens before to-morrow noon.\u201d\n\nAcestor bowed his head under Phanos\u2019 hand in token of submission.\n\n\u201cMilon!\u201d shouted Phanos.\n\nThe officer of the city-watch, who was still mounting guard inside the\ncurtain, came forward.\n\n\u201cFollow this man,\u201d said Phanos, pointing to Acestor, \u201cand don\u2019t lose\nsight of him. When he has quitted Athens, report to me.\u201d\n\nMilon grasped Acestor\u2019s arm and went away with him.\n\nXenocles gazed after them.\n\n\u201cBy Zeus!\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cbelieve me or not as you choose, but I\u2019ve\nalways had a presentiment that the eagle might become a crow.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d replied Thuphrastos, \u201chave always seen the crow, never the\neagle.\u201d\n\nWhen, soon after, the house was cleared of the city-watch, the friends\nlooked at each other a moment in silence.\n\n\u201cWho has done this?\u201d asked Lamon.\n\nThuphrastos shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\u201cIs there any way of knowing who has denounced an hetaeria?\u201d he\nmuttered.\n\n\u201cIt was probably Megas,\u201d whispered Lysiteles in his faint, cracked\nvoice.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Sthenelus positively, \u201chad it been he, by Zeus, he would\nhave been with them. Megas would have wanted to enjoy the sight of\nour faces when we were surprised. No, it was not he. I think it was\nCephidosemos, who watched Xenocles and myself from behind the column.\nAs an informer he is afraid of drawing hatred on his head, so he keeps\naway.\u201d\n\nThuphrastos passed his hand thoughtfully over his beard.\n\n\u201cWhat offices can Phanos bestow upon us?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI have heard,\u201d answered Lamon, \u201cthat a tax-collector is to be sent to\nsome of the rebellious cities. He will have hundreds of soldiers with\nhim. It would not surprise me, Thuphrastos, if you should be appointed\nto that office.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell!\u201d exclaimed the old captain, \u201cI shall rely on Phanos\u2019 words. He\nnever forgets.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will all trust him!\u201d echoed the group in chorus.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d continued Thuphrastos, turning to Xenocles, \u201chowever we may\nfare, there is _one_ person who will lose....\u201d\n\n\u201cWhom do you mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy Zeus, your daughter! Was she not betrothed to Acestor, and was not\nthe wedding to have taken place this very day?\u201d\n\nXenocles made a repellent gesture.\n\n\u201cDo not speak of it!\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cWell then,\u201d replied Thuphrastos, \u201cI\u2019ll give you a son-in-law and, by\nthe gods, a better one than that chatterer.\u201d\n\nXenocles raised his head with a questioning glance.\n\n\u201cThe man I shall bring you is not far off,\u201d continued Thuphrastos.\n\u201cHere you see Hipyllos! He loves the maiden. We know of him--what\nnobody knew about that shrieker--that he is rich. He showed his\ncourage at the battle of Antirrhium--he has archons in his family. What\nmore can you desire?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing, by Zeus!\u201d answered Xenocles laughing and grasping the young\nman\u2019s hand, \u201cwhat objection should I have to a son-in-law who will make\nme a family connection of Lacrateides?\u201d\n\nHipyllos pressed Xenocles\u2019 hand in both his own.\n\n\u201cFather!\u201d he cried warmly, \u201cgive me your daughter Clytie! Neither you\nnor she shall repent it--that I swear by all the gods.\u201d\n\nSoon after Hipyllos stole out into the peristyle and called his slave.\n\n\u201cMyrmex,\u201d he whispered, \u201churry down to the house of Sauros, the\narmorer. Ask for Ninus, the priestess of Sabazius, and let her see that\nthe young lady and her slave return home at once without being seen.\nLook, here is money.\u201d\n\nWhen Hipyllos returned, the last discussion among the hetaeria took\nplace. It lasted an hour; finally the members of the society released\none another from their oaths and divided the money which had been\ncontributed.\n\nAs soon as possible Hipyllos slipped away, without taking leave of any\none except Lamon, the owner of the house.\n\n\nXXIV.\n\nHipyllos walked swiftly down the hill. He wanted to be the first to\ncarry the glad tidings to Clytie.\n\nAbout half way he met Myrmex, who was apparently returning after having\nperformed his errand. As the way was stony and the moon often concealed\nbehind clouds the old man had lighted a torch, but Hipyllos wanted\nneither him nor his torch--he let the moon light him as best it could\nand hurried past him, exclaiming:\n\n\u201cFollow me, and put out the torch when you enter the street.\u201d\n\nThen, leaping rather than walking down the hill, he turned into the\ndark, shaded Limnae, and soon saw the familiar ray of light stream out\nto meet him from the side-building of Xenocles\u2019 house. Hurrying towards\nit, he picked up a pebble from the ground and flung it against the wall.\n\nThe red curtain was drawn aside and in the opening appeared the object\nof his longing--Clytie! As the lamp stood back in the room the rays\ndivided and left her almost in darkness, but the youthful figure formed\na shadowy outline, which was quite enough to make a lover\u2019s heart\nthrob. Though Hipyllos was unable to distinguish her features, the\nluxuriant hair, the childish roundness of the cheeks, and the graceful\nslope of the shoulders possessed bewitching suggestions of youthful\nbeauty, and Hipyllos knew that these signs were no delusions.\n\nSpite of the darkness outside, Clytie recognized him and exclaimed:\n\n\u201cEternal Gods! What has happened? Good or evil fortune? Speak, speak, I\nimplore you.\u201d\n\nHipyllos listened in delight. Every word uttered by the young girl\u2019s\nlips echoed with a silvery cadence upon the silence of the night.\n\nHe pushed a log against the wall with his foot, and sprang upon it.\n\n\u201cDear, lovely Clytie,\u201d he whispered, \u201cgive me your hand! What I have to\nsay is surely worth a clasp of the fingers.\u201d\n\nHe now told her in a few words the events of the evening; but he was\napparently not satisfied with a mere clasp of the hand.\n\nSuddenly the street was illumined by a broad ray of light and, though\nHipyllos\u2019 shadow, gigantic and strangely distorted, fell on the wall\nand the loop-hole it was not difficult for the new-comers to see that\nhe was in the act of pressing his lips upon a dazzlingly white arm,\nwhich vainly strove to escape the caress.\n\n\u201cAha!\u201d cried an angry voice, \u201ca pretty sight, by Heracles....\u201d\n\nClytie, with a half-stifled shriek, vanished from the loop-hole and\nHipyllos, turning, leaped down from the log.\n\nAccompanied by a slave bearing a blazing torch Xenocles, after\nfollowing a cross-path over the hill, had just emerged from the\nshrubbery. Hipyllos had not thought that the active little man, spite\nof his age, was almost as agile in his gait as he himself.\n\nXenocles seemed furiously enraged, and struck fiercely at the youth\nwith his clenched fists.\n\n\u201cBegone!\u201d he shouted. \u201cBegone from my sight. Do you suppose I will give\nmy daughter to a rake who steals to the maiden\u2019s room in the darkness\nof night. Be off from here, I say; Clytie shall never be your wife.\u201d\n\nAt these words Hipyllos turned deadly pale and his head swam. Now that\nall obstacles were removed, now that he believed himself at the goal of\nhis wishes, this had happened so unexpectedly that it seemed as though\nthe earth had yawned under his feet.\n\nThrowing himself at Xenocles\u2019 feet, he clasped his knees and with tears\nin his eyes exclaimed in the most imploring accents: \u201cMy father, punish\nme, let me be scourged by your slaves--I will offer my back to them\nmyself, but forgive me! Your daughter is dearer to me than the light of\nmy eyes.\u201d\n\nA singular twitching convulsed Xenocles\u2019 features; he averted his face,\nbut unable to control himself, burst into a loud laugh.\n\n\u201cYoung man,\u201d he said, when he was once more capable of speech, \u201cconfess\nthat I gave you a terrible fright. But,\u201d he added, raising his voice,\n\u201cyou both deserved it--she not less than you. Now I understand the\nwhole affair--had she not been accompanied by you, she would never have\ndared to fly from her father\u2019s house at night.\u201d\n\nHipyllos scarcely knew himself how he took leave of Xenocles. Now that\neverything had resulted happily he was fairly intoxicated with joy.\nAttended by Myrmex he wandered about, revelling in his delight, through\nthe moon-lit night. What cared he for the rough rioters he met, or the\nmuffled thieves who watched behind the altars on the cross-roads.\n\nDid not everything seem to smile upon him? He had come into the\n\u201cGardens,\u201d the loveliest part of Athens. In the centre of the ground\nsloping towards the river towered a tall plane-tree at whose foot a\nfountain rippled; around it stretched thickets of Agnus castus trees,\nagainst whose dark background white statues were clearly relieved. Of\nthe nine sanctuaries in this quarter the marble temple of Aphrodite\ngleamed through dark, towering cypresses; below it the waves of the\nIlissus, consecrated to the Muses, sparkled in their deep channel, and\nfrom a path along the bank of the stream gay conversation echoed upon\nthe silence of the night. Suddenly a youthful voice, which seemed the\nembodiment of light-heartedness, began the following song:\n\n   \u201cWherefore, prithee, need I learn\n    Justice, law, and oratory?\n    Wherefore must I my thoughts turn\n    To things valueless to me?\n    Let me rather gaily seek\n    With my friends for mirth and joy,\n    Teach me tender words to speak\n    And with fair Aphrodite toy.\u201d\n\nHipyllos softly repeated the last words of the song. He felt as though,\nlike the gods themselves, he was walking on the clouds. Just at that\nmoment repeated groans happened to attract his attention, and turning\nhe saw that his old slave could scarcely keep up with him.\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter, Myrmex?\u201d he asked good-naturedly. \u201cDon\u2019t you\nsee that I am as happy as a god--and here you are growing worse than\nSisyphus himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be angry,\u201d whined the old man. \u201cIt is growing late. Haven\u2019t we\nwalked far enough to-day?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then--home!\u201d replied Hipyllos laughing, \u201cbut to-morrow....\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d asked Myrmex rather anxiously.\n\n\u201cTo-morrow I shall go to the Lyceium to listen to the wise teachings\nof Hippias from Elis. He who can boast of being able to answer any\nquestion must surely be a man of varied knowledge.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what do you want him to teach you?\u201d\n\n\u201cFirst to make _happiness_ a household goddess.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd next?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo bind her wings.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo that she can always stay with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cEven so, wise Myrmex.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTOO HAPPY.\n\nTHIRD YEAR OF THE 98TH OLYMPIAD (386 B.C.)\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTOO HAPPY.\n\n\nOne beautiful summer day in the month Metageitnion a large ship sailed\npast the eastern point of Crete and steered with its two shovel-shaped\nrudders into the \u00c6gean Sea. A fresh east wind fluttered the purple flag\nand made the white sail, strengthened by a network of cordage, swell\nabove the waves.\n\nThe ship was called a Samian, and its deeply-arched bow showed that\nit was built to contain a large cargo. Although nearly a quarter of\na stadium long--or about as large as the largest war-vessel of those\ndays--she was evidently a peaceful trader; for below the protecting\nfigure-head--a Doris, daughter of Oceanus--with which the curve of the\nprow was adorned and whose name the ship bore, one would have vainly\nlooked for the weapons peculiar to a ship\u2019s armament, the projecting\niron-shod embolus or beak. On the stern was the statue of the goddess\nAthene, the familiar \u201cAttic sign,\u201d which showed that the vessel was an\nAthenian ship. To strengthen the joining of the planks the hull, from\nstem to stem, was surrounded with numerous belts of thick ropes which,\nlike the hull itself, were smeared with a mixture of pitch and wax.\nAlong the vessel\u2019s sides appeared a row of semi-circular air-holes, and\nthrough the openings made for the rudders ran the hawsers wound about\na capstan. Outside, just below the figure-head, two huge eyes were\npainted--probably to indicate that the ship understood how to find her\nway over the sea.\n\nAt the curve of the prow, the highest part of the Samian, where the\nbearded steersman managed the double helm, stood a little group\nof travellers talking gaily with each other. They were Lydian and\nPhoenician merchants, availing themselves of the opportunity to go to\nAthens, as the merchantman, after having visited the most important\nports in Asia Minor, would return home fully laden to the Pir\u00e6eus for\nrepairs.\n\nThe sailors who had gathered in the bow sang their monotonous songs or\nfell asleep, stretched in the shade behind the sail, in the very act of\nchewing onions, while some young slaves, busied in making preparations\nfor an approaching meal, moved to and fro among them.\n\nAt the foot of the mast was a red and white striped tent, low enough\nnot to interfere with the movements of the sail. This tent was closed\nby a curtain, though not so completely that those within could not\nkeep an eye upon a little white-robed boy four or five years old, who\nwas riding up and down on a speckled hobby-horse. The space for play\nwas very small and he sometimes ran among a pile of chests and boxes,\nwhere he tripped, stumbled, and almost fell. Whenever this happened, a\nwoman\u2019s voice inside the pavilion said:\n\n\u201cCallias must stay where mother told him--or Mormo will come.\u201d\n\nThe tent contained two persons, the ship\u2019s owner and master, a young\nAttic merchant, who was reclining on a couch, and his wife, who sat on\nthe edge of the seat in front of him.\n\nGlaucus--the merchant\u2019s name--was a man of five and twenty, with a\nhandsome, somewhat pallid face. He was clad in a reddish-brown robe\nwith a broad white border and, as the summer day was scorching hot, he\nwore no girdle around his waist. In his hand he held a manuscript, but\nhad let it fall by his side as though his thoughts were not fixed on\nthe contents.\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d he suddenly exclaimed, as he pushed back his dark locks and flung\nthe scroll on a table, \u201cI cannot forget that strange man!\u201d\n\n\u201cWho was he?\u201d asked his wife.\n\n\u201cHow do I know, Charicleia? He rowed out to the ship in the bay of\nCelenderis to sell us some sheep he had in his boat. You had gone on\nshore with the slaves to make some purchases. Scarcely had he come on\nboard, ere he asked in the most simple-minded way about everything he\nsaw. He wanted to know whether Indian ivory or Sardian purple was the\ndearer, and whether a house could be built for the money one of the\ngold embroidered carpets from Babylon had cost.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did the man look?\u201d asked Charicleia.\n\n\u201cHe resembled Heracles, as he is represented on the stage by the\nactors. He was tall, large-limbed, walked with his back bent, was\nclumsy and awkward in his movements, and had tangled hair hanging low\non his forehead.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat else did he notice on board?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe could not weary of examining everything. He had never supposed that\nthere were ships so large. Finally he became so troublesome that I\nordered my sailors to put him back in his boat; but the giant defended\nhimself and--quicker than speech--two of my steersmen lay stretched on\nthe deck, one with his face bleeding from a blow. Frantic with rage, I\ngripped his breast, shouting: \u2018Quit my ship, Barbarian or, by Zeus, you\nwill fare ill.\u2019 But lo! something very like a miracle happened before\nour eyes. At the word: \u2018Barbarian,\u2019 he drew himself up, flung back his\nhair, and suddenly stood before us like a totally different being.\nHis stupid look had vanished, his eyes flashed, and his huge figure\nand dark face made a terrible impression of untamed strength and\nfierceness. \u2018We shall meet again, Athenian!\u2019 he said and, pushing my\npeople aside like bundles of straw, he swung himself down into the boat\nand rowed swiftly to the shore.\u201d\n\n\u201cGlaucus,\u201d said the young wife, turning pale, \u201cI am afraid of this man.\u201d\n\n\u201cSimpleton!\u201d replied Glaucus smiling, \u201cyou ought rather to rejoice\u201d\nand, lowering his voice, he added: \u201cI long for some touch of adversity.\nWe are too fortunate, we fare like the happy gods. We have nothing\nto desire.... Have I not a superabundance of property and wealth, a\nspacious, handsome house, large store-houses in Athens and the Pir\u00e6eus,\nnumerous ships at sea, and a beautiful villa at Salamis? And as to the\nfuture, have I not my little Callias to inherit all I possess?\u201d\n\nNow that he had spoken of his wealth and his son, he thought of his\nwife. In ancient times women were little valued.\n\nHalf rising on his couch he let his eyes rest on Charicleia\u2019s figure.\nHer thin, light dress, with a pattern of small green leaves, displayed\nthe delicate neck and white shoulders, and the mere way in which she\ncarried her head revealed the young _oikodespoina_ (mistress of the\nhouse) who was born of a noble race and accustomed to command numerous\nslaves.\n\nGlaucus clasped her soft, ringed hand.\n\n\u201cAnd have I not,\u201d he added, \u201ca good and beautiful wife?\u201d\n\nCharicleia raised her dark eyes to his and replied by a pressure of the\nhand that meant: \u201cAnd haven\u2019t I the best and handsomest of husbands?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t look at me so, my bee,\u201d[M] said Glaucus smiling. \u201cMy whole\nsoul yearns to you. But you know what the sailors say: \u2018Ships must be\nkept free from Aphrodite\u2019s lures, first because they are sacred, and\nsecondly because it isn\u2019t right to trifle, when there is only a plank\nbetween us and death.\u2019\u201d\n\n                                  [M] A common term of endearment for\n                                      women. Of course the allusion\n                                      was not to the bee as armed with\n                                      a sting, but to the producer of\n                                      honey, the sweetest thing known\n                                      at that period.\n\nCharicleia was not listening to him.\n\n\u201cSo you think,\u201d she said reflectively, \u201cthat we are too happy. Do you\nfear the envy of the gods?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do,\u201d Glaucus whispered, as though afraid of being heard by invisible\nears.\n\n\u201cConsole yourself, my friend. The happy gods have no wishes. But I have\none so important to me that the doubt of its fulfilment is a thorn in\nmy heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what is this desire?\u201d asked Glaucus in surprise.\n\n\u201cThat, when our lives draw near their end, we may die together. Think,\nGlaucus, if one of us should suddenly be left alone. Beneficent Gods!\nhow often I have prayed ye to avert this misfortune.\u201d\n\n\u201cBeware, Charicleia!\u201d said Glaucus gravely. \u201cDo not pray for foolish\nthings. Life and death are in the power of the gods--what do we know\nabout them? Perhaps you would bitterly repent your wish, if the\nheavenly powers should grant it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, no, no!\u201d cried Charicleia. \u201cLet death come _when_ and _as_ it\nwill, if it only snatches us away together.\u201d\n\nWith these words she drew the curtain of the tent aside. Before them\nlay the glittering sea, furrowed with its greenish billows, which\nseemed to roll sleepily away in the sunshine. In the distance two of\nthe Cyclades raised their rocky heights towards the sky, and far away\nto the north towered some bluish-black clouds, so sharply outlined\nagainst the clear azure of the heavens that they resembled jagged\nmountain peaks.\n\n\u201cIf my wish has found favor with Ye, Heavenly Powers,\u201d cried\nCharicleia, raising her arms with southern fervor towards the sky,\n\u201coh! give me, in my husband\u2019s presence, a sign that my prayer will be\ngranted.\u201d\n\nStepping entirely out of the pavilion she gazed around her. Glaucus\nhad risen from the couch and, standing in the shadow, followed the\ndirection of her glance. Even little Callias had a presentiment that\nsomething was expected. Pausing in his play, he ran to his mother and\ntook hold of her dress.\n\nJust at that moment a dazzling flash of lightning darted from the dark\nsky far away, followed in a few moments by the roll of distant thunder.\nThree white birds, one small and two large ones, flew with rapid\nstrokes of their long wings over the ship, following each other at\nprecisely the same distance, as though bound together by some invisible\nchain. They mounted higher and higher as if they wanted to soar into\nthe sky and soon became mere indistinct specks.\n\n\u201cLook!\u201d exclaimed Charicleia, her face radiant with joy, \u201cthey come\nfrom the right and move towards the left. My prayer will be fulfilled.\u201d\nAnd kneeling, she stretched her arms towards the sky, saying:\n\u201c_Dechomai ton oi\u014dnon!_ I accept the omen.\u201d\n\nAgain from the distance, as if in confirmation, echoed a low peal of\nthunder.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d remarked Glaucus, \u201cthere were _three_ birds, one smaller than\nthe others...?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d said Charicleia, clasping his hands, \u201cperhaps it is the\nwill of the gods that we must die while Callias is still a child. In\nthat case I accept the omen for him also. Let him follow us!\u201d\n\nWhatever impression this scene had made upon Glaucus, it had not\nescaped his notice that meantime a strange tumult had arisen on deck.\nEager, anxious conversation echoed from the stern where the steersman\nstood, several young slaves were running to and fro, nay even the lazy\nsailors in the bow were beginning to move. Some of them strolled slowly\npast the tent.\n\n\u201cWhat has happened?\u201d asked Glaucus. \u201cA small vessel has been sighted in\nthe offing....\u201d began one.\n\n\u201cWhich seems to be following us,\u201d added another.\n\nGlaucus went to the steersman.\n\n\u201cEver since we passed Rhodus,\u201d said the latter, \u201cthat little ship\nyonder has been following us, always steering in the same direction.\nTwice I have intentionally tacked, and each time I saw that the vessel\nturned with us. So I fear she is a Cilician pirate.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome here, Egyptian!\u201d said Glaucus, beckoning to the oldest of the\nsailors, a bald, grey-bearded man of very singular aspect.\n\nHe had been dubbed \u201cEgyptian\u201d because for many years he had sailed to\nBusiris, Bubastis, and other cities on the Nile. No one had ever seen\nhim wear anything except a garment of braided mats, through which his\nlean arms and legs looked like a little child\u2019s first rude drawings of\nthe human figure. His skin seemed tanned by the Libyan sun and never\nappeared clean, and his mouth was a tightly closed straight line as if\nhe had no lips. It might be supposed that few words escaped them.\n\n\u201cWhat do _you_ think, Egyptian?\u201d said Glaucus, raising his voice--the\nman was somewhat deaf.\n\n\u201cThe rustling of a fig-leaf,\u201d[N] replied the Egyptian curtly, shrugging\nhis shoulders.\n\n                                  [N] A false alarm.\n\n\u201cWhat kind of craft do you think she is?\u201d asked Glaucus.\n\n\u201cA Myoparian,\u201d was the reply.\n\nMyoparian (nimble as a mouse) was the name given to small swift-sailing\nships belonging to the Cyclades. In earlier times they had often been\nused to plunder trading-vessels, but at this date were employed only\nfor peaceful purposes and had the best reputation.\n\nThe Egyptian\u2019s statement was therefore eagerly welcomed.\n\n\u201cThe man is right,\u201d said one of the Phoenician merchants, stroking his\nbraided beard. \u201cHow often small ships are seen following large ones! It\nis partly because their captains think the steersmen of large vessels\nhave more experience and partly because they hope for a refuge in case\nof need.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d objected one of the travelers, \u201cpirates can just as well pursue\nus in a Myoparian they have captured as in any other vessel.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I be permitted to speak, Master,\u201d said a native-born Athenian\nslave, turning to Glaucus. He was a young man with a refined,\nintelligent face, whose natural beauty was not even destroyed by hair\nclosely cut after the slave-fashion.\n\nGlaucus nodded assent.\n\n\u201cI think the steersman is right,\u201d said the youth. \u201cIf that vessel is as\nfleet as is said, yet holds back, there is surely some evil intended,\nwhich will not appear until the time seems favorable.\u201d\n\nSo the talk went on and the most contradictory opinions were expressed.\nThe dispute was not yet over at the approach of sunset.\n\nThe western sky was radiant with golden light and far above the ship a\nfew thin clouds, which formerly had scarcely been noticed, were clearly\nrelieved against the deep azure as they assumed a bright crimson hue,\nwhich made them resemble light feathers. Even the sea shared the sunset\nsplendor and mirrored the fiery glow, against which the long billows\nlooked like dark, moving streaks.\n\nThe Samian made little headway. The sail flapped feebly to and fro;\nthere was not wind enough to fill it, and ere the sun had sunk beneath\nthe sea the last faint breeze had died away.\n\nThe rowers were now obliged to take their seats; the celeustis began\nthe monotonous chant that marked the time, yet nimbly as the oars\nmoved, the great ship advanced slowly.\n\nIt was far different with the small vessel, whose distance seemed\ngradually to decrease, and there could soon be no doubt that it was\ngaining upon the Attic ship. Ere long those on the latter could see\nthe white foam washing under the Myoparian\u2019s bow--a sign of the speed\nwith which she was moving--and soon after they perceived that she was\nstrongly manned and had all her oars out. From that time the vessel\napproached so swiftly that it seemed to grow every moment.\n\nSuddenly one of the Lydian merchants exclaimed in a loud voice:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s all over with us! They are pirates, the craft is Thyamis\u2019 ship\nfrom Coracesium. Once before I have been robbed by him and barely\nescaped with my life.\u201d\n\nAt these words indescribable terror and confusion arose on board. Some\ncovered their faces to await death, others uttered loud lamentations\nand wrung their hands irresolutely; a few tried to hide in the ship\u2019s\nhold, others wanted to have the boats lowered to escape by flight, and\nsome young slaves, in their fear of losing a life which scarcely seemed\nof any special value, ran to and fro as though out of their senses.\n\nAmid this universal irresolution, the Myoparian came close behind.\n\nGlaucus comforted his wife with a few soothing words and told her to\nstay inside of the tent with little Callias. He himself went to the\nstern, collected the passengers and sailors around him, and said:\n\n\u201cFriends, if we do not repulse that wretch\u2019s attack, many of us must\nlose our lives. But we are numerous enough, if we only resolve to do\nso, to save ourselves and the ship. Besides the steersman and myself,\nthere are on board five foreign merchants and six sailors; so in all,\nwe have thirteen free men, while of slaves there are the fourteen\noarsmen, four slaves of my own, and ten who accompanied the foreign\nmerchants. As the Myoparian has no boats, we can only be attacked on\n_one_ side and there only for a distance not exceeding the length of\nyonder little vessel. Twenty brave men would be enough to repel such\nan assault, and we,--including freemen and slaves--number more than\nforty! You can obtain weapons from the steersman; for though I have\nnever met pirates until now, I have always been ready to receive them.\nIf we repulse the attack, I will free my slaves and give each sailor\na large reward. Show courage and firmness--and the victory will be\nours. Besides, we shall fight from a higher position as if we were in a\nfortress.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet them come,\u201d said the steersman coolly, \u201cwe\u2019ll receive them in\nsuch a way that hereafter they\u2019ll avoid attacking an Attic ship.\u201d\n\nThe crew, in answer to these words, maintained an ominous silence and,\nwhen the steersman distributed the weapons, he noticed that many of the\nmen were reluctant to take them.\n\nOne of the rowers, a Cretan with a sly, crafty face, had alarmed the\nmen on their way to him.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be simpletons!\u201d he had said. \u201cThrow the swords into the sea in\ntime. Those whom the pirates catch with arms in their hands will be\nkilled at once.\u201d\n\nMeantime, twilight had begun to close in. The glowing colors in the\nsky had faded, the black storm-cloud had risen higher, and the sea\nstretched sullen and leaden-hued below.\n\nThe Myoparian glided past the ship at some distance. It was a proud\nsight to behold the light craft, with a fringe of snow-white foam\nbefore her prow, cut through the billows, while the glittering oars\nrose and fell in regular time. The pirate swept round the Athenian ship\nin a wide curve and, as though to display her superiority, encircled it\nseveral times in ever narrowing rounds, so that the big, clumsy Samian\nlay as though besieged by this one little craft.\n\nSuddenly a score of fir-wood torches were lighted on board the\nMyoparian and, by the glare of their red, flaring flames, reflected\nlike quivering streaks of fire over the sea, the vessel was seen\nswarming with dark, threatening figures, among whom, ever and anon,\nwas noticed the glint of shining arms. There was something strangely\ngloomy about this glimmer which made the Egyptian say:\n\n\u201cDo you see those weapons? They cut the eye as they wound the flesh.\u201d\n\nOn an empty space near the pirate\u2019s stern stood her captain, a gigantic\nman, clad with barbaric splendor. Around his dark hair was bound\na broad fillet of yellow byssus, embroidered with gold; a superb\nviolet-blue upper-robe hung loosely over his shoulders and opened over\na dazzlingly white chiton, fastened with a gold belt. On his feet he\nhad short _endromides_ or half boots of the same magnificent hue as his\nupper robe, and in his hand he held a trident of polished steel that\nsparkled and flashed in the torch-light.\n\n\u201cWoe betide us! Woe betide us!\u201d repeated the Lydian merchant, who had\nfirst recognized the vessel. \u201cIt is Thyamis, the most terrible of all\nthe Cilician corsairs.\u201d\n\nGlaucus, too, recognized the man in spite of his changed exterior. Now\nhe understood why the giant had desired to see everything on board when\nthe Samian lay at anchor in the bay at Celenderis.\n\nThe Myoparian with a few powerful strokes of the oars approached still\nnearer, so that it lay side by side with the Attic ship.\n\nAt a sign from his captain, one of the pirates sprang upon the gunwale\nand shouted to the crew of the merchantman:\n\n\u201cLuckless men! Why do you seek death? Why resist a superior force?\nYield the ship, then you can get into your boats and row wherever you\nchoose.\u201d\n\nBut Glaucus stepped into the stern of his ship and answered:\n\n\u201cWretches! Know that we lack neither men nor weapons. If you attack, we\nwill defend ourselves and fight till the victory is ours.\u201d\n\nThe corsairs\u2019 reply was only a jeering laugh.\n\nThen there was a great bustle on board the Myoparian. The mast was\nraised, hoisting a yard consisting of two pieces, from which hung a\nlarge dark object bearing a certain resemblance to a dolphin, for it\nwas distaff-shaped, thickest in the middle and lessening at both ends.\nThis object was evidently very heavy; the mast creaked and strained and\nthe yard bent perceptibly under its weight.\n\nThe pirate-ship again approached the merchantman and lay alongside. A\nman with an evil, almost animal face, wearing a red Phrygian cap on his\nhead, climbed up the yard far enough to be able to look down on the\nSamian\u2019s deck.\n\n\u201cToo late to yield now!\u201d he shouted. \u201cNow you must all die.\u201d\n\nAt these words some of the young slaves burst into loud lamentations;\nbut above every other sound echoed from the tent a frightened child\u2019s\nsobbing and wailing, which would not be silenced, no matter how\ntenderly it was hushed.\n\n\u201cWhat a horrible bawler!\u201d cried the man with the Phrygian cap. \u201cJust\nwait! When the dolphin comes, he\u2019ll stop his mouth.\u201d\n\nThen, swinging himself over among the rigging that supported the mast,\nhe called to the men below: \u201cHeave!\u201d\n\nThe pirates, with a quick swing, brought the yard over the great ship.\nThe man in the red cap pulled with all his might at a rope he held\nin his hand, and the missile suspended from the yard--the so-called\n\u201cdolphin,\u201d a leaden mass of immense weight, plunged down upon the tent\njust as Charicleia came out of it, holding the crying child by the\nhand. There was a terrible, deafening crash, the ship trembled from\nmasthead to keel as though every seam was separating; almost at the\nsame moment there was heard--this time under the deck--a similar crash,\naccompanied by a violent jarring and a strange, gurgling, rippling\nnoise like the bubbling of a spring.\n\nThe tent was dragged down and partly covered a yawning hole in the\ndeck, from which rose splinters yards long. Charicleia had felt little\nCallias\u2019 hand torn from hers by some terrible, resistless power, and at\nthe same moment, while half buried under the folds of the tent, a warm,\nsticky stream had spurted over her foot. Though she had not seen it,\nshe well knew what it was.\n\nPale as a corpse, she staggered back a step and seemed on the verge\nof fainting. Then, as if in a dream, she heard the red-capped corsair\nburst into a laugh and call to his comrades:\n\n\u201cYou see, it hit! The bawler is silenced. He has ridden down to Hades\non the dolphin.\u201d\n\nAt the words and laugh a mist of blood seemed to dim Charicleia\u2019s\neyes; she seized a sword and with the scream of a wild beast rushed\nupon the wretch, who was clinging with one hand to the rigging of the\npirate-vessel and with the other to the Samian. He had no time to parry\nthe attack, no time to open his lips, ere the glittering weapon was\nburied to the hilt in his breast. He moved his head and neck several\ntimes as if stifling, a stream of blood welled from his mouth, the red\ncap fell off, his hands loosed their grip, and he fell headlong into\nthe dark gulf between the ships.\n\nA fierce cry of rage rose from the pirates; they placed ladders against\nthe trader\u2019s bow and some of the boldest sprang on her deck--others\nfollowed.\n\nDeeply as Glaucus was moved, he made every effort to inspire his men\nwith courage, but most of them threw down their arms and begged the\ncorsairs to spare their lives.\n\nThyamis now gave orders to stop the slaughter and commanded the sailors\nand foreign merchants to leave the ship without taking anything except\nthe clothes they wore. The slaves were compelled to go in couples on\nboard the pirate craft.\n\nThe Samian\u2019s boat was lowered into the water, and the seamen vied with\neach other in leaping in, believing that they would only be safe when\nfar away from Thyamis and his band. Overcrowded though this boat was,\nthere was no danger; the sea was calm, there were men enough to row,\nand the distance to the nearest of the Cyclades was not great.\n\nGlaucus and his wife were now led down to the Myoparian, while Thyamis\nwent on board of the Samian. He showed his men where the ivory, purple,\nand gold-embroidered carpets from Babylon were to be found, and the\ncostliest part of the cargo was soon transferred to the pirate craft.\nThe merchantman filled faster and faster, and already lay considerably\nlower.\n\nThyamis ordered his vessel to be rowed away from the sinking ship.\n\nThe darkness had gradually increased and the Samian looked like a\nblack, shapeless mass. The part of the hull still remaining above the\nwater grew smaller and smaller. Suddenly the stern sank and, with a\nstrangely unexpected movement, the prow rose high in the air for a\nmoment, then the great ship sank with terrible speed. A roaring noise\nlike a whirlpool echoed over the sea, and a spot of whirling snow-white\nfoam for a short time marked the spot where the vessel had gone down.\n\nGlaucus, who had watched the scene, pressed his wife\u2019s hand.\n\n\u201cThe envious wretches!\u201d he exclaimed with suppressed fury. \u201cIt was my\nbest and handsomest ship.\u201d\n\nCharicleia raised her eyes to heaven in mute accusation.\n\nSoon after both were brought before Thyamis, who sat in all his\nsplendor upon a sort of throne at the stern. As they approached he\nrose with a courtesy that boded ill.\n\n\u201cDo not imagine, Glaucus,\u201d he said \u201cthat it is my intention to detain\nyou and your wife captive to extort a ransom. We _Barbarians_, though\ninferior to you, are also men of honor. Athenian, depart in peace to\nyour native city.\u201d\n\nThe pirates now brought a ladder and fastened it outside of the ship,\nso that the end touched the water; then they formed two ranks, holding\nflaring torches to light the descent to the sea.\n\n\u201cI salute you, Glaucus!\u201d added Thyamis, pointing to the ladder: \u201cThe\nway is open. You and your wife are free!\u201d\n\nGlaucus stood as though petrified by this grewsome jest. But the\npirates pressed upon him with their torches and compelled him and his\nwife to approach the ladder. Charicleia was deadly pale, and trembled\nso that she could scarcely stand. Glaucus clasped her hand, whispering:\n\n\u201cTake courage! Your dearest wish will be fulfilled. Did you not say:\n\u2018Let death come _when_ and _as_ it will, if it only snatches us away\ntogether.\u2019 And did you not yourself accept the omen?\u201d\n\nThe young wife\u2019s eyes filled with tears.\n\n\u201cForgive me!\u201d she stammered. \u201cI did not know what I was asking.\u201d\n\nWith a look in which love conquered the fear of death she raised her\neyes to her husband\u2019s face and threw her arms around his neck. Glaucus\nclasped her waist and went slowly down the steps of the ladder.\n\nWhen he had reached the last one he paused and glanced up at the ship.\nBut at the sight of the pirates\u2019 curious, malicious faces, which did\nnot express even the faintest touch of compassion, he understood that\nall hope was over and, too proud to beg for his life, he pressed\nCharicleia closer to his breast and took the fatal step from the last\nround of the ladder.\n\nThe sea closed over their heads, forming a small, swiftly revolving\nwhirlpool, and through this narrowing circle the too happy mortals,\nunited in death as in life, entered the great unknown country whence no\none returns.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nLYCON WITH THE BIG HAND.\n\nSECOND YEAR OF THE 103D OLYMPIAD (367 B.C.)\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nLYCON WITH THE BIG HAND.\n\n\nI.\n\nFew young men in Athens had so many acquaintances as Lycon, yet he did\nnot possess a single friend. He was courteous to all, but intimate\nwith no one, had a care-free disposition, liked to try his luck at\nastragals[O] or dice, always knew where the best Chian wine and the\nprettiest girls could be found, and was never unwilling to lend an\nacquaintance a few drachmae. So Lycon was universally esteemed, nay\npeople even overlooked certain eccentricities which were contradictory\nto Attic custom. For instance, he never visited the gymnasium, and when\nsome one spoke to him about it, he carelessly replied:\n\n                                  [O] A game like knuckle-bones.\n\n\u201cWhat should I do there? Oratory and subtleties of speech I don\u2019t\nunderstand--and why train my body? I\u2019m strong enough as I am, and have\nbetter uses for my time.\u201d\n\nAs to Lycon\u2019s appearance--he had handsome, though rather harsh black\nhair, manly, somewhat stern features, large heavy eyebrows, a short but\nthick beard, a broad-shouldered, strongly-built frame, and unusually\nlarge hands, from which he received the nickname Lycon _ho makrocheir_,\nLycon with the big hand.\n\nHe was entered on the citizens\u2019 list as Lycon, son of Megacles. But\nnobody had known this Megacles, and no one could tell where the house\nof Lycon\u2019s parents stood, or had stood. All that was known about him\nwas that, two years before, he had suddenly appeared in Athens--as he\nsaid, after a long residence in Bithynia where his father had died.\nNow and then it was whispered that he was \u201ca spurious citizen,\u201d and\nat one of the examinations to which these lists were occasionally\nsubjected, he was questioned by the demarchs or district inspectors.\nTo them Lycon stated that his father had been a ship\u2019s captain and for\nmany years had been absent from Athens; he had himself gone to sea with\nhim, and the rough work on board had given him large, hard hands. One\nof the demarchs, a rich ship-owner, thought he could entrap Lycon by\nquestioning him about the names of the various parts of a vessel. But\nthe latter was at no loss for an answer. This resulted greatly to his\nadvantage; the ship-owner declared himself satisfied, and Lycon\u2019s name\nremained on the list.\n\nStill, there were many strange things about him. For instance, he knew\nso little of the poets that, as the jester Stephanus said, he might\neasily have been persuaded that one of Pindar\u2019s odes was written by\nHomer. But, if any one laughed at such stupendous ignorance, Lycon said:\n\n\u201cYou are laughing at my pedagogue, not at me. It is his fault. He was\nso weak that he submitted to everything, and we played and quarrelled\nduring the time we ought to have learned something useful.\u201d\n\nIt was one of Lycon\u2019s peculiarities that, though he never refused an\ninvitation to a drinking-bout, he had no inclination to attend any\nof the great festivals to which strangers flocked from all parts of\nHellas, the islands, and the new colonies, to see the processions, the\nperformances at the theatre, or the torchlight races. On such days\nLycon either remained at home in his little house in the Ceriadae\nsuburb, or went away for a short journey, remaining absent until the\nstrangers might be supposed to have left Athens. This singular conduct\nwas not noticed by many, for on holidays most persons have enough\nto do to attend to their own affairs. But the few who did remark it\nmarvelled.\n\nOnly one individual knew the cause of Lycon\u2019s eccentricities. This was\nthe artist Aristeides from Thebes, a quiet, thoughtful young man, who\nnever said more than he meant. He enjoyed a high reputation for his\npowerful picture of the battle between the Persians and Macedonians, a\npainting containing hundreds of human figures; but his master-piece was\nthe plundering of a captured city, in which a dying mother holds her\ndelicate babe away from her breast, that it may not drink blood instead\nof milk.\n\nThis Aristeides once went on a pleasure excursion with Lycon--both\non horseback, attended by a single slave--to the beautifully located\nDeceleia at the foot of Mt. Parnes. Wearied by the noon-tide heat,\nthey sought shelter on the way in the wretched log-hut owned by a\npoor countryman, who received them kindly, gave them a bowl of fresh\ngoat\u2019s-milk, and offered them his rude bed; but it was so dirty that,\nafter exchanging glances, they begged permission to lie on the hay\nstored in the shed opposite. The man led the way there. Lycon stretched\nhimself comfortably upon the fragrant hay, yawned, and fell asleep.\nAristeides also slept, but was roused soon after by a movement of Lycon\nand, turning over, suddenly felt broad awake.\n\nLycon\u2019s robe had opened at the throat, baring his shoulder. On the\nsunburned skin appeared a large white scar, consisting of three marks\nwhich together formed a kappa.[P]\n\n                                  [P] Kappa, the letter K. This is an\n                                      abbreviation of the word Klemma,\n                                      theft. Slaves were usually\n                                      branded on the forehead (or on\n                                      the ears or hands.) The mark\n                                      seems to have been stamped on the\n                                      shoulder only by special favor,\n                                      when the offence was trivial.\n\n\u201cA slave!\u201d cried Aristeides, \u201cand branded!\u201d\n\nAt first he was almost stupefied; then he moved away from Lycon\u2019s side\nand sat down on a log a short distance off.\n\n\u201cNow I understand everything,\u201d he thought, \u201chis fear of undressing in\nthe gymnasium--his unknown origin--his large hands--his ignorance of\nthe poets--and his absence during the great festivals.... So he is a\nfugitive slave, and has been punished for theft. Before his flight he\nprobably robbed his master and of no inconsiderable sum. He was entered\nin the citizens\u2019 list by bribery, and now the thievish, branded slave\nlives in Athens as a free citizen, and enjoys himself on his defrauded\nmaster\u2019s money.\u201d\n\nAristeides rose to go to the city magistrates, but ere he left the shed\nhe started and listened.\n\nLycon was laughing in his sleep.\n\nThere was something so joyous and light-hearted in his laughter that\nAristeides involuntarily paused.\n\n\u201cLook!\u201d murmured Lycon, stretching out his arm as though pointing,\n\u201cnow fat Dryas is jumping!--The leather bottle is bursting--he\u2019ll\nfall--plump! there he lies on his stomach in the water.\u201d\n\nAnd Lycon laughed again.\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d said Aristeides, \u201ca man who laughs in his sleep like a child is\nnot wicked.... Who knows whether freedom has not made him a different\nand a better man? Certainly nothing dishonorable is known about him,\nand he is universally respected.... Perhaps his master has made up his\nloss long ago. Perhaps he has himself repaid the stolen money; he has\nslaves who work for him. Besides, how does the matter concern me?\u201d\n\nThe artist went nearer to the sleeper and looked at him.\n\nA pleasant smile was hovering around Lycon\u2019s mouth. \u201cTake this!\u201d he\nmuttered, and his big hand made a gesture as if he were giving alms.\n\nAristeides felt a sudden inspiration.\n\n\u201cHad the gods desired to punish him,\u201d he thought, \u201cthey would have made\nhim betray himself to a foe, not to a friend.\u201d\n\nGlad to have found such a consolation to his mind, he carefully drew\nLycon\u2019s robe together and fastened it at the neck. His hand shook a\nlittle as he did so. If Lycon should suddenly open his eyes, what might\nhe not do in his despair at seeing his secret discovered!\n\nBut Lycon slept on. Without rousing him, Aristeides went around into\nthe shade behind the house, where the slaves were waiting with the\nhorses. Beckoning to Lycon\u2019s servant, he said:\n\n\u201cWhen your master wakes, tell him that a dream I had in my sleep\ncompels me to return home at once. Beg him from me to go on as though I\nwere still in his company.\u201d\n\nWith these words he swung himself on the horse and rode away so fast\nthat his slave could scarcely follow him.\n\nFrom that hour Aristeides held aloof from Lycon, without attracting any\nspecial attention from the latter. But whenever, later, conversation\nturned upon Lycon\u2019s eccentricities Aristeides found special\ngratification in going as near the truth as possible. He always said:\n\n\u201cThere is a sign that explains them.\u201d\n\nDid he make the remark from a vague spite against Lycon or a child\u2019s\ndelight in playing with fire? He did not know himself, but he never\nsaid more.\n\n\nII.\n\nLycon, who suspected no evil, continued his usual mode of life. One\nnoon he went to the house of a freedman named Opasion, who usually had\ngay doings in his home, as he lived by entertaining young men. The\nlittle peristyle, scarcely ten feet long, was filled with a noisy,\nlaughing party. Half a score of youths in mantles of every hue had\nformed a circle around two fighting quails.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll bet fifteen drachmae against you, Opasion,\u201d shouted one voice.\n\n\u201cSo will I,\u201d added a second.\n\n\u201cHegesias\u2019 quail is braver. See, your bird is giving way, Opasion--it\nyields again. Ha! ha! ha! Now it\u2019s outside of the circle.\u201d\n\n\u201cConquered, conquered!\u201d shouted the whole party in chorus, joined by\nthe freedman.\n\n\u201cYour bird lost, Opasion. Down with the money.\u201d\n\nThe freedman, a short, stout fellow, with a foxy face, lifted a rumpled\nbird in the air and shrieked into its ear, as though trying to drown\nthe shouts of victory. At the same time the other bird was borne away\nin triumph, and then carefully taken under its owner\u2019s arm as if it\nwere the most costly treasure.\n\nLycon walked carelessly on to the so-called banqueting hall found in\nevery large house, but which usually offered only a very limited space.\nHe cast a hurried glance around the room but saw no strange faces.\nSeven or eight young men whom he met every day were just breakfasting,\nreclining singly or in pairs upon leather-covered couches, before which\nstood small tables bearing numerous spots of grease and the marks of\nwet goblets.\n\nAt the back of the room a couple of half naked boys, slaves, were\nbusily washing cups and dishes, and not far from them on a low chair\nwithout a back sat two young girls from fifteen to twenty years old.\nThey were whispering eagerly together, and by the way they fixed their\neyes on the young men reclining upon the couches, it was easy to guess\nthe subject of the talk. Both were pretty, but their bold glances and\ncareless laughter showed that they were women of free lives, accustomed\nto associate with men.\n\nThe older and larger of the two held in her hand a Phrygian double\nflute. Her back hair was covered by a blue kerchief and the locks on\nher brow were adorned with a clasp of polished steel. Her whole costume\nconsisted of a saffron-yellow robe, originally fine and costly, now\nsomewhat frayed, open at the left side to the hip and fastened up above\nthe knee. The younger and prettier, who was evidently a juggler, as she\nrested her feet on a box containing short swords, balls, and small bows\nand arrows, wore on her head a red hood to confine her dark curls, and\nmoreover was wrapped in a faded green mantle, which she drew closely\naround her. Whenever, during the conversation, she moved her hands this\nloose upper dress parted, showing that she had a totally different\nunder-garment and a pair of short, parti-colored breeches, which\nsurrounded her loins like a wide belt.\n\nThe young men paid no attention to the girls. Their talk turned upon\nthe best way of getting hold of a father\u2019s money during his life.\nOpinions seemed to vary greatly. The more experienced agreed in holding\naloof from the matter themselves and having their fathers deceived by\na cunning slave, while those less skilled preferred to beg the money\nfrom their mothers, on the threat of going to sea or enlisting in the\nlight-armed troops.\n\n\u201cThe old theme again!\u201d said Lycon smiling, after having greeted and\nshaken hands with all present except Aristeides, who was busily\ncleansing his hands after the meal in the dough prepared for the\npurpose.\n\n\u201cLycon speaks the truth,\u201d cried a pale-faced young man with flabby\nfeatures, afterwards known as the architect Deinocrates. \u201cWe must talk\nabout something else. This subject doesn\u2019t suit _him_.\u201d\n\nLycon, who had neither father nor mother, understood the concealed\nsting, but kept silence in order not to enter deeper into the matter.\n\nThe talk ceased for a moment; the god Hermes--as the saying went in\nthose days--passed through the room. Then a quick step echoed over the\nflags of the peristyle, and a tall young fellow with a light beard\nsuddenly stood among them. He seemed to have just arrived from a\njourney, for dust lay thick amid the folds of his brown mantle, and he\nwore a broad-brimmed felt hat.\n\n\u201cPhorion!\u201d cried seven or eight voices in a breath, \u201cwe greet you,\nwelcome!\u201d\n\nThe new-comer flung his cloak and hat to one of the boys who came\nhurrying up, pressed Aristeides\u2019 hand, and lay down in the vacant place\nby his side.\n\n\u201cWhere are you from, Phorion?\u201d asked pallid Deinocrates.\n\n\u201cFrom Thessaly.\u201d\n\nLycon, who was reclining alone upon a couch at the nearest table,\nforgot his barley cake and raised his head.\n\n\u201cFrom what city in Thessaly?\u201d\n\n\u201cMethone in the province of Magnesia, on the Pagasaean Gulf.\u201d\n\nAristeides\u2019 eyes happened to rest on Lycon, who had turned deadly pale\nand was pressing his hand upon his breast.\n\n\u201cFrom which of the citizens did you receive hospitality? continued\nDeinocrates.\n\n\u201cFrom Simonides, dealer in grain.\u201d\n\nLycon started so that he almost upset the little table in front of the\ncouch.\n\n\u201cHow strange!\u201d exclaimed Deinocrates eagerly. \u201cSimonides was my\nfather\u2019s host, too, and I have often heard him praise his cheerful\ntemper and great fondness for the comic writers. He owns, if I\nremember rightly, many of old Magnes, the Icarian\u2019s, comedies in the\nmanuscripts, as the author himself revised them, and--especially in\n\u201cthe Harpers\u201d knows the merriest scenes by heart.... You perceive I am\nacquainted with the man without having seen him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! he is no longer the same person!\u201d said Phorion gravely. \u201cGrief\nand sickness have prematurely aged him.... All his misery was brought\nupon him by a dishonest slave.\u201d\n\nAgain Aristeides looked at Lycon, but this time not accidentally.\n\nThe perspiration stood in big drops on his brow, his cheeks were\nflushed, and he passed his great hand over his face as he was in the\nhabit of doing when deeply moved.\n\n\u201cMade miserable by a dishonest slave!\u201d exclaimed Deinocrates, \u201cyou must\ntell us about it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe story is soon told,\u201d replied Phorion. \u201cBut come here, boy. Push\nthe tables aside, brush the bones and fruit-skins away, and bring wine,\nwine! I am dying of thirst.\u201d\n\nWhen everything was arranged, the slave brought a silver vessel and\npoured some wine into it from an ancient silver cup, the show-piece in\nOpasion\u2019s house.\n\nPhorion took the vessel. The flute-player rose, put her instrument to\nher lips, and began a subdued, solemn melody.\n\n\u201cLet this beaker,\u201d said the young man, \u201cbe offered to the gods of my\nnative city, with thanks for their gracious protection on my journey!\u201d\n\nThen he poured out some of the contents of the cup.\n\nThe notes of the flute sounded louder, but not so loud as to drown the\nnoise of the wine falling on the smooth stones of the floor. Then the\nsubdued melody followed. Phorion drank a few sips from the beaker and\npassed it to Aristeides, who also took a little, and so it went the\nround of the party, always accompanied by the music of the flute.\n\nLycon gazed with a strangely vacant glance at the preparations for the\ndrinking-bout, and it was evidently a relief to him when Deinocrates\nasked the new-comer to continue his story.\n\n\u201cAbout five years ago,\u201d resumed Phorion, \u201cSimonides bought a young\nslave called Zenon.\u201d\n\nHearing this name so suddenly, Lycon turned ghastly pale and, half\nfalling back on his couch, made a groping movement with his hands, as\nthough he had suddenly been plunged into the blackest darkness.\n\nAristeides pitied him, and, to force him to control himself, said:\n\n\u201cAre you ill, Lycon?\u201d\n\nLycon passed his huge hand over his face; the muscles around his mouth\nquivered, and it was a moment ere he could mutter a few words which\nsounded as if he had taken too large a mouthful.\n\n\u201cSo,\u201d continued Phorion, \u201cSimonides bought a young slave named Zenon.\nHe hadn\u2019t given much for him, because Zenon had robbed his former\nmaster, a physician in the neighboring city of Ormenium; he had been\nbranded and fled to Poseidon\u2019s altar in Methone. Nobody would buy him,\nbut when he fell weeping at Simonides\u2019 feet and promised to conquer\nhis evil propensities, the latter was touched and bought him for less\nthan a mina.[Q] For more than a year his conduct obtained his master\u2019s\napproval and won his favor and confidence. One day Simonides was\nvisited by a man from Hypata, with whom he had business relations.\nZenon waited on the table and saw the stranger pay Simonides nearly\na talent, partly in ready money and partly in drafts on well-known\nmoneylenders in Athens, and noticed that this property was placed in a\nbox where many bags of darics[R] were already kept. The next morning\nthe chest where the box had been placed was found broken open. The box\nhad gone, and with it Zenon. Simonides sent mounted messengers to this\ncity, but Zenon had already had the drafts cashed, the more easily\nbecause his master\u2019s seal ring was in the chest.\n\n\u201cSimonides had the great robbery and an exact description of the\nthief\u2019s personal appearance proclaimed in the market by the public\nheralds; but all his efforts were useless. Grief and worry over this\ngreat loss broke down his health. He was attacked by paralysis, his\nright side was benumbed, his mouth drawn awry, and for a time he was\nalmost speechless. The once gay, jovial man is now a mere shadow of his\nformer self. Though he is too proud to complain, I think the slaves\ntake advantage of his condition and do what they choose. There is not\nthe least sign of the order that formerly existed in the house. In\nthe vestibule lay fragments of broken wine-jars, fruit-skins, faded\ngarlands, and the handles of burnt torches. Yet not even to his best\nfriend, Polycles the wine-dealer, has he mentioned their negligence.\nThe only complaint that ever escaped the lips of the sick man, so\ndeserted by his servants, was the wish: \u2018If I only had a son! I could\ndepend upon him.\u2019\u201d\n\n                                  [Q] Mina = equal to about $20.\n\n                                  [R] Persian gold coin, named for\n                                      Darius, value a little over $5.\n\n\u201cBy Heracles!\u201d cried one of the reckless young fellows, \u201che\u2019ll find\nthat wish hard to get--weak as he is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why not?\u201d replied Phorion gravely. \u201cOf what consequence here is\nthe mere tie of blood? Nothing is needed except a son\u2019s affection.\nYes,\u201d he added warmly, \u201camong those who have known Simonides in his\ndays of happiness, why should there not be one person that would take\npleasure in coming to the sick man\u2019s help and making amends for the\nwrong others have done him?\u201d\n\nOpasion thrust his foxy face from behind one of the pillars, and\nnoticing that the conversation had almost ceased, made a sign to the\nyoung girls.\n\nThe flute-player began a lively tune; the juggler threw off her shabby\nupper-robe and took from the box she used as a foot-stool nine short\nswords whose handles ended in a sharp point. These swords she stuck\nfirmly into the cracks between the flag-stones, placing them in two\nrows, all with their keen two-edged blades in the air. Then she stepped\nbetween them and, after straightening her short breeches a little,\nwalked on her hands, to the music of the flute, between the weapons,\nthen rising turned somersaults over them so swiftly that the eye could\nscarcely follow the movements of her slender, pliant body.\n\nThis was the dangerous sword-dance, always greatly admired.\n\nThe young men clapped their hands and shouted their plaudits.\n\n\u201cWhat ought not a _man_ to be able to accomplish,\u201d exclaimed\nDeinocrates, \u201cwhen a woman can learn to leap so boldly between swords?\u201d\n\nAristeides had not watched this scene; his eyes were fixed on Lycon.\nThe latter had risen. He was a little paler than usual and stood gazing\ninto vacancy with a strange look, as if he saw something far, far away.\nSomething extraordinary seemed to be occupying his thoughts, and he\nrepeatedly passed his huge hand over his face.\n\nThen, apparently by chance, he approached Phorion. \u201cI\u2019m going to\nThessaly in a few days,\u201d he said in a tone which he endeavored to make\nas careless as possible, \u201cand shall probably visit Methone. If you\nwish, Phorion I will carry your regards to Simonides.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo so, and if you can, be his guest for a short time. Perhaps there\nis reason to report the servants\u2019 conduct to the magistrates. His\ndaughter Myrtale, according to his own account, is a child of seventeen\nwho cannot rule slaves. But one thing you must know in advance--the\ndoor-keeper turns all strangers away; it is not easy to get into the\nhouse.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall get in,\u201d said Lycon.\n\n\nIII.\n\nA few days after Lycon might have been seen with a large travelling-hat\non his head riding along the road between Halus and Iton in the\nprovince of Phthiotis in Thessaly. He had sold his house in Athens and\nall his slaves except one, a slender boy named Paegnion who, carrying a\nbundle suspended from a stick over his shoulders, accompanied him. He\nhimself had a similar bundle fastened to his horse; in his hand he held\na switch cut from the trunk of a vine and, when his cloak blew aside,\nthe handle of a short sword appeared in his belt. Beside Paegnion\nwalked a young slave from Halus, who was to take the hired horse back.\n\nIt was a pleasant summer morning when Lycon rode down the stony road\nover a spur of Mt. Othrys.\n\nBefore him on his left hand rose huge limestone cliffs, their sides\novergrown with poplar, plane, and ash-trees, and their summits\ncovered with thorny tragacanth bushes. Far below, one smiling valley\nlay beside another and through them all the river Amphrysus wound\nin glittering curves. The morning mists still rested on the wide\nlandscape, revealing, ever and anon, a glimpse of distant cities at the\nfoot of the mountains and undulating plains, with yellow grain-fields\nand luxuriant vineyards, interspersed here and there with clumps of\nfig-trees and groves of dwarf and stone oaks. Far at the right the\nwhite marble temples of a city glimmered against the dark-blue waters\nof a bay in the Pagasaean gulf. On the other side of the valley rose\nlofty hills, and beyond them--at the farthest point of view--the two\nsnow-capped peaks of Pelion towered into the air.\n\nLycon let his gaze wander over the broad, sun-steeped landscape, and\ninhaled with pleasure the pure mountain air. Freedom had never seemed\nto him more alluring. The nearer he approached Methone, the more\nanxiously he asked himself whether he, who for years had lived as a\nfree citizen, must again sink into a wretched, subservient bondman. He\nfancied he already felt on his neck the pressure of the wooden ring by\nwhich sweet-toothed slaves were prevented from raising their hands to\ntheir lips; he imagined he had fetters on his limbs and the heavy block\ndragging after him, and he shuddered at the thought of the smoking iron\nand its hissing on the skin.\n\nWho told him he would escape this punishment? Had he not stolen a\nsecond time?\n\n\u201cBy Zeus!\u201d he muttered, \u201cI\u2019m afraid I have made the dog\u2019s throw.\u201d[S]\n\n                                  [S] The worst throw in a game of dice.\n\nBut, remembering how he had altered during the past few years, he\nsuddenly exclaimed: \u201cNo, I will not return as Zenon, but as Lycon.\u201d\n\nHe had incautiously uttered the last words aloud and, starting, looked\naround him. The strange slave had paid no heed; but it was important\nfor him to know whether Paegnion had heard them.\n\nHe beckoned to the boy, bent down from his horse, and took him by the\near.\n\n\u201cDid you hear what I said?\u201d he asked curtly. \u201cTell the truth.\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe so,\u201d stammered Paegnion, somewhat bewildered by this sudden\nattack.\n\n\u201cRepeat my words.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not return as Zenon, but as Lycon.\u201d\n\nLycon drew his short sword and placed its point against Paegnion\u2019s bare\nbreast. The lad uttered a loud shriek.\n\n\u201cDid you ever cut yourself with a knife?\u201d asked Lycon. \u201cThen think what\nyou will feel if I thrust now. Well then! If you repeat one word of\nwhat I said, I will drive this sword into you, if it were at the altar\nof the gods. So guard your mouth.\u201d\n\nWithout listening to Paegnion\u2019s assurances, he gave the horse a light\nblow with his whip and continued his way down to the valley.\n\nThe next day Lycon was riding up the Street of the Bakers in Methone,\nat whose end was seen the sea with the ships where he had learned the\nnautical expressions that had proved so useful to him with the district\ninspector at Athens. Though no anxiety was apparent in his bearing,\nhis heart beat faster than usual. There was no change in the little\ncity; it seemed as though he had never been away, he recognized every\nhouse, every wall, every stone. He was obliged to wait a moment at the\nlaurel-tree and statue of Hermes, outside of Simonides\u2019 house, ere he\ncould control his voice sufficiently to say to Paegnion: \u201cKnock!\u201d\n\nPaegnion seized the copper ring on the door and rapped loudly. The\ndoor-keeper was not at his post. It was a long time before he came\nand drew the bolt, and he opened the door no wider than was necessary\nto thrust out his hand. Lycon recognized in him an old slave named\nSatyrus, who had a sullen face and lazy bearing.\n\nAt sight of the youth in travelling dress, he said harshly: \u201cWhat do\nyou want? My master is sick and receives no one.\u201d With these words\nhe slammed the door so that the whole house shook. Lycon signed to\nPaegnion, who knocked again. \u201cMy good fellow,\u201d he called, \u201cannounce me\nto your master. Tell him I am Lycon the Athenian, son of Megacles, and\nthat I bring a greeting and message from Phorion, who was his guest\na short time ago.\u201d The door-keeper went grumbling away. At last he\nreturned, opened the door, and said in a milder tone:\n\n\u201cCome in, he\u2019ll speak to you.\u201d\n\nSending away the boy with the hired horse, Lycon entered the dwelling.\nAnxious as he felt, he noticed that the appearance of the vestibule\nagreed exactly with Phorion\u2019s description. There was dirt and disorder\nin every corner.\n\nWhile crossing the peristyle, Lycon addressed a few words to Paegnion.\nAt the sound of his voice a young girl who was just gliding into the\nwomen\u2019s apartment, stopped, turned her head, and fixed upon him a look\nof wonder and surprise, but ere he had time to notice her she had\nvanished through the door. He had only caught a glimpse of a blue robe\nand a pair of questioning dark eyes. Was it Myrtale, whom he had last\nseen as a child, and with whom he had often played in the garden and at\nSimonides\u2019 country-seat?\n\nAbsorbed in these thoughts, Lycon had walked so rapidly towards the\nroom usually occupied by the master of the house that old Satyrus, the\ndoor-keeper, found it hard to keep up with him.\n\n\u201cQueer!\u201d he muttered, \u201cthough you are a stranger, one would suppose you\nknew the house.\u201d\n\nLycon saw that he had been on the point of betraying himself, but he\nwas quick-witted.\n\n\u201cOf course I know the house, my good fellow,\u201d he replied smiling\u201c--from\nmy friend Phorion\u2019s description.\u201d\n\n\nIV.\n\nSimonides was just breakfasting. On seeing how weak and feeble he had\nbecome, Lycon could scarcely control his emotion, and it cut him to the\nheart when he saw the crooked mouth--the mark paralysis had stamped\nupon him for life.\n\n\u201cThief!\u201d he thought; \u201cit is your work!\u201d and he passed his big hand over\nhis face to hide his tears. He longed to throw himself at his master\u2019s\nfeet and clasp his knees.\n\nSimonides did not rise when Lycon entered, but gave him his hand and\ngreeted him kindly.\n\n\u201cWelcome!\u201d he said. \u201cYou are Phorion\u2019s friend, I hear, and bring\na greeting and message from him. How is his blind father? Does\nPraxagoras, the physician from Cos, think he will succeed in restoring\nhis lost sight?\u201d\n\nLycon could not answer; he knew nothing about Phorion\u2019s father.\n\n\u201cHow is his wife, who was so ill after the birth of her last child?\u201d\n\nLycon knew nothing of Phorion\u2019s wife either. He felt extremely\nuncomfortable, tried to turn the conversation into another channel and,\nby way of explanation, added carelessly:\n\n\u201cI know Phorion only in the market, the arcades, and other places where\nmen daily meet in Athens. He has never spoken of his family.\u201d\n\nSimonides raised his head and looked intently at Lycon.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d he exclaimed, apparently with some little disappointment. \u201cI\nthought that you and Phorion were intimate friends. There is an old\nacquaintanceship between us, dating from the time when his father and I\nwere both young.\u201d\n\nThe conversation now took a different turn, as Simonides asked for news\nfrom Athens. This was a subject on which Lycon could talk, and the more\nfreely because relieved from his worst fear. Simonides evidently had\nnot recognized him. His long hair and thick beard, especially his heavy\neyebrows, which he had had clipped very frequently to make them large\nand bushy, had entirely changed his appearance.\n\nSimonides had offered his guest some refreshments after his journey.\nIn the long time that elapsed before they were brought Lycon saw a\nconfirmation of the bad condition of household affairs. He also noticed\nthat two goblets stood on the little table; of course Simonides had\nhad a companion at his meal, doubtless his daughter, Myrtale, who,\naccording to the universal Hellenic custom, had left the room when the\ndoor-keeper announced a stranger. She was probably the young girl of\nwhom he had caught a glimpse in the peristyle.\n\nAfter the meal Simonides offered to let a slave called Conops show\nLycon around the city. He called, but no one came. He rapped repeatedly\non the floor with his cane: but no one seemed to hear--the veins on\nLycon\u2019s forehead swelled and his heavy eyebrows met in a frown.\n\n\u201cWretches!\u201d he muttered.\n\n\u201cBe not angry, Simonides,\u201d he added warmly, clasping his hand in both\nhis own, \u201cbe not angry if, though a stranger, I speak freely of things\nwhich do not concern me. Let me, I beg you, talk in your name to these\nsluggards. Imagine that I am your son and have returned from a long\njourney. Come! Lean on my arm, let us go about the house and see what\nthe slaves are doing.\u201d\n\nSimonides fixed a puzzled glance upon Lycon.\n\n\u201cStranger,\u201d he said, \u201cyou speak singular words. You have not been half\nso long under my roof as the water-clock needs to run out, yet you seem\nto read the wishes of my soul. Who are you, young man? Your voice is\nstrangely familiar, yet no ... you speak the Attic dialect so purely\nthat Phorion, who was born in the city, has no better accent.\u201d\n\nWith these words he rose slowly, by the help of his cane, and took\nLycon\u2019s arm.\n\n\u201cAnother person,\u201d he added, \u201cmight perhaps be angry with you or feel\noffended. I am neither. It is seldom, very seldom, that a careless\nyouth has so much affection for a sick and feeble man. Come, my\nson--let me call you so--try whether you can help me to restore the\ndiscipline of the house, but do not suppose that the victory will be\nan easy one. Thistles which have grown all the year are not uprooted\nby the first jerk. If you could stay with me for a time--yet I will\nnot urge you,\u201d he added smiling faintly, \u201cthat you may not say you\nare drubbed into accepting the invitation. A resident of Athens will\nscarcely waste time on our little city.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think so?\u201d said Lycon, smiling. \u201cI will gladly stay, if you\nbelieve that I can serve you.\u201d\n\nSimonides had difficulty in dragging himself onward. Fortunately\nthe distance was not great; in ancient times the houses were small,\nsupplied with numerous corners, it is true, but covering little space.\nSupported by Lycon\u2019s arm, Simonides walked through the short colonnade\noutside of the men\u2019s rooms; in the little peristyle of the women\u2019s\napartment, where he was forced to stop a moment to rest, no human\nbeing appeared and the small chambers occupied by the slaves,--half\na score of dungeon-like cells,--all stood empty. The same state of\naffairs existed in the women\u2019s work-room. In the door leading to the\ngarden sat, or rather lay, one of the youngest slaves of the household,\na light-haired boy seven or eight years old. He had leaned his head\nagainst the door-post and, overcome by the noonday heat, had fallen\nasleep.\n\n\u201cLook!\u201d whispered Lycon, pointing to the boy, \u201cfortune favors us. The\nsentinel is slumbering at his post. We shall come upon them unawares.\u201d\n\nLoud, merry talk reached them from the garden.\n\n\u201cConops has slept on the bench long enough,\u201d said a harsh voice, not\nwithout a shade of envy.\n\n\u201cHow he snores!\u201d added another.\n\n\u201cOnly a swine-herd can snore like that.\u201d\n\n\u201cPour some wine into his mouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cTickle him on the nose with a straw.\u201d\n\n\u201cPut a frog on his neck.\u201d\n\nThe last proposal was greeted with shrill laughter.\n\nLycon pushed the sleeping boy away with his foot and, in the midst of\nthe slaves\u2019 noisy mirth, the master of the house and his guest suddenly\nstood among them.\n\nA strange spectacle was presented to their eyes. On a roughly-made\ncouch, which had been carried into the shade, lay the largest and\nstrongest of the slaves, the swine-herd Conops, almost naked, snoring\nloudly with his mouth wide open. Close around him stood those who had\nproposed to wake him, and behind this group some half nude boys, lying\nflat on the ground, were playing dice, while a couple of older slaves\nsitting at a table were quietly drinking a tankard of wine which they\nhad forgotten to mix with water. Still farther away some young men were\nromping on a bench beneath some blossoming Agnus-castus trees with two\nslave-girls who, at the sight of the new-comers, started up with a loud\nshriek and, covering their faces with their hands, fled around the\nnearest corner of the house.\n\nLycon did not speak a word to the slaves, but as he turned slowly with\nSimonides to go back to the dwelling by the same path, he said as\nthough continuing an interrupted conversation:\n\n\u201cMy advice is this: Sell them all to the mines in Laurium--they will be\ncured of laziness there--and buy new ones, even if you have to pay more\nfor them.\u201d\n\nHe had spoken loud enough for the nearest slaves to hear every word.\n\nWork in the mines of Laurium was considered the hardest slave-labor\nin Hellas. What terror and consternation therefore seized upon the\npampered, idle slaves in Simonides\u2019 house at the prospect so suddenly\nopened before them.\n\nA low, but eager murmur instantly arose behind the retreating figures.\nMany were talking at the same time and in an angry tone.\n\n\u201cDo you hear?\u201d said Lycon to Simonides, \u201cthe medicine is beginning to\nwork.\u201d\n\nThe old man pressed his hand.\n\n\nV.\n\nLycon let himself be shown around the city by the boy he had found\nsleeping with his head against the door-post, and invented errands to\nmany of the citizens but none of them recognized him.\n\nMeantime his young slave, Paegnion, was sauntering idly about\nthe house. He was tired, so he welcomed the event when some one\nunexpectedly spoke to him in the peristyle of the women\u2019s apartment.\n\n\u201cWhat is your name, my lad?\u201d asked a gay, musical voice from one of the\nlittle openings in the wall facing the peristyle.\n\nPaegnion looked up. All he saw inside the small opening was a delicate\nwhite hand, which had drawn aside the Coan curtain, some shining\nbraids of brown hair, a gold fillet, and a pair of mischievous black\neyes, whose sparkle vied with the fillet.\n\n\u201cWhat is your name, my lad?\u201d the voice repeated.\n\n\u201cPaegnion.\u201d\n\n\u201cA pretty name! Are many boys in Athens called Paegnion as well as you?\u201d\n\n\u201cSome, but not many.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas your master a pretty name too?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is called Lycon.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas he no other name?\u201d\n\nPaegnion was silent.\n\n\u201cWell then!\u201d said the gay voice in a strangely contemptuous tone, and\nthe hand moved as though to close the curtain.\n\nPaegnion feared the conversation was over.\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d he hastened to ask.\n\n\u201cI thought Attic youths were more clever than others--so clever that\ntheir masters could never conceal anything from them. Now I see that\nthe Athenian lads are no brighter than our own.\u201d\n\nPaegnion felt a little nettled.\n\n\u201cI _could_ answer you, if I _chose_,\u201d he muttered roughly.\n\n\u201cAnd why don\u2019t you choose, Paegnion?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I don\u2019t want to be thrust through the breast with a long\nknife.\u201d\n\n\u201cEmpty threats! And you care for them? A boy like you isn\u2019t easily\nkilled.... No, say rather that you know nothing.\u201d\n\nAnd again the delicate hand moved as if to drop the curtain.\n\n\u201cBut I _do_ know something,\u201d Paegnion hastened to reply. \u201cHe has, as\nyou say, another name.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho told you so?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did he say?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I won\u2019t tell.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you so timid, Paegnion? I thought the Attic boys were braver.\nBesides, what do you risk by telling me, a woman? I shall never see\nyour master, never have a chance to speak to him--what do you fear?\u201d\n\nPaegnion reflected a moment.\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d he cried resolutely, \u201cI dare not! He might find out.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s a pity! I thought you would earn some money. Look!\u201d the young\ngirl continued, holding out a number of small flat silver coins in a\nbox and showing them to Paegnion, \u201chere are twelve triobols.\u201d\n\nThe lad gazed covetously at the glittering coins.\n\n\u201c_Twelve_ triobols,\u201d he repeated with a crafty smile, \u201cand I am\n_fifteen_ years old.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall have three more. But make haste, somebody might come. What\ndid your master say?\u201d\n\nPaegnion looked around him.\n\n\u201cOn the way here,\u201d he whispered, advancing close to the wall, \u201cmy\nmaster rode for a time absorbed in thought; then he suddenly exclaimed:\n\u2018No, I will not return as Zenon, but as Lycon.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI knew it!\u201d cried the girl and, forgetting the money, she clapped her\nhands so that the obols fell on the ground and rolled about in every\ndirection.\n\nPaegnion was not slow in picking up his treasure.\n\n\u201cThe three triobols,\u201d he then said, \u201cthe three triobols you promised\nme.\u201d\n\nThe girl disappeared from the opening. A moment after a fold of the\ncurtain was raised and, if Paegnion had had eyes for it, he might have\nseen a beautiful white arm bared to the shoulder, but the lad was more\nintent upon obols than arms.\n\nAt this moment the back door of the garden creaked on its rusty hinges,\nand Paegnion ran with all his might to the little guest-room at the\ncorner of the house, which had been assigned to him and his master.\n\nWhen Lycon--for it was he--was crossing the small courtyard on the way\nto the guest-room he saw that the household slaves, half a score in\nall, had assembled there. Some were carrying hay from a large cart into\na barn, others were pouring water over the rude wheels, consisting of\nround wooden disks, to cleanse them from lumps of clay, and others were\nstanding idle in the shade. But, whether busy or not, there was an air\nof malevolence about them and not one uttered a word. The prospect of\nforced labor in the Laurium mines rested like a dark cloud on every\nface.\n\nThe big swine-herd, Conops, held in his hand a bunch of dry leaves with\nwhich he was wiping the sweat from the heaving flanks of a mule.\n\nLycon passed quietly on to the guest-room, where he called to Conops in\na curt, authoritative tone:\n\n\u201cOpen the door. You see I am carrying something under my cloak.\u201d\n\nThe huge fellow did not stir.\n\nLycon beckoned to the little boy and gave him his bundle.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you know,\u201d he then said to Conops, \u201cthat I am your master\u2019s\nguest, and that you should obey a guest as you would your master\nhimself?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps that is the custom in Athens,\u201d replied Conops impudently,\nlooking at the others. \u201cIn Methone slaves do what they choose.\u201d\n\nLycon\u2019s great hand suddenly fell upon Conops\u2019 cheek. So violent was\nthe blow that the swine-herd reeled several paces aside, struck his\nhead against the stable-wall, and scratched one of his ears. Dizzy and\nconfused as he was, he was servile enough to recognize in the hand that\nstruck such a blow a superior power, which it would not do to defy.\n\n\u201cWhat a cuff!\u201d he muttered, wiping away the blood which streamed from\nhis ear upon his brown shoulder then, glancing at the others again, he\nadded with evident admiration of the blow: \u201cI never had such a knock\nbefore.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe door!\u201d said Lycon curtly.\n\nConops opened it without a word.\n\nLycon now turned to the slaves and informed them that the order of the\nhousehold must and should be restored. No one would be overburdened\nwith work; but, if each did his share, there would seem to be less\nto be done. Then he represented to the slaves who had been born in\nSimonides\u2019 house how shamefully they had behaved in consulting only\ntheir own convenience, while their master was ill and helpless, needing\nmore than anything else careful attendance.\n\nHe soon succeeded in touching the hearts of the slaves and, when\nhe perceived it, he added that Simonides would forgive and forget\neverything if within three days they would bring him the household\ninstruments of punishment which they had thrown away and broken. If one\nof the older slaves fulfilled this demand, Simonides would make him\noverseer of the others, but should they persist in their negligence\ntheir master, with an Attic slave-dealer\u2019s assistance, would sell them\nto the mines.\n\n\nVI.\n\nEarly the next morning, while the dew was still sparkling on the leaves\nand in the grass, Simonides\u2019 daughter, Myrtale, a girl of seventeen,\ncame out of the women\u2019s apartment into the garden. She had thrown over\nher head a red scarf with small white stars, from beneath which fell\nher thick dark-brown locks. Her figure, though not tall, was well\ndeveloped, and its delicately-rounded outlines were fully displayed by\nthe red robe she wore. The little Methonian bore no resemblance to the\nstately marble caryatides which as images of the Attic virgins adorned\nthe vestibule of the Erechtheum; but her whole figure was so instinct\nwith life and youth that no eye could help lingering on it with\npleasure. Even the swine-herd, Conops, turned his clumsy head to watch\nher as she passed and among the slaves, who half neglected and half\nadmired her, she was never called anything but _h\u0113 pais_, \u201cthe child.\u201d\n\nMyrtale, however, was a child who had a will of her own and a very\ndetermined one. Having early lost her mother, she had had no female\ncompanionship except her nurse, who indulged her in everything. She had\nbeen educated in a much freer manner than was usually the case with\nHellenic maidens. She took her meals with her father, even when his\nfriend Polycles, the wine-dealer, visited him. When Polycles noticed\nthat the young girl did not lack intelligence he often asked her\nopinion, and this pleased Simonides, who spoiled his only child and\ntreated her more like a son and heir than like a daughter.\n\nNay, when Simonides, during his days of health, read aloud the plays\nof Magnes, the Icarian, Myrtale, at that time a girl of thirteen\nor fourteen, was usually present and stimulated by the unbridled\nlaughter of the two friends, understood much that had been previously\nincomprehensible, and caught many an allusion which the two men did not\nsuspect that she could comprehend. In this way Myrtale had learned to\nknow more of the world and life than other young girls who spent their\ndays in a virgin chamber.[T]\n\n                                  [T] Part of the women\u2019s apartment.\n\nThe slaves\u2019 negligence, the only thing that could have shadowed her\nyouth, disturbed her far less than it troubled her father, since she\nalways had her faithful nurse with her and--thanks to the freedom\ngranted her--enjoyed her life like a careless child, to whom the\npresent moment is everything.\n\nWhen Myrtale came out into the garden early that morning, she stood\nstill for a time irresolute but, woman-like, not idle. Seeing how dark\nand wet the ground was and what big drops glittered in the grass, she\ninstantly set to work to fasten up her dress that it might not be\nsoiled by dampness. Then she tripped on through maples, ivy, and vines\ntwined around poles which rested on stout posts, towards the most\nsecluded part of the garden. When she reached the bee-hives and heard\nthe buzzing of the insects, she paused a moment, laughed softly, and\nsaid to herself with a mischievous little smile:\n\n\u201cNow I know what to do--he shall be forced to confess everything.\u201d\nSeeing some superb white lilies, she left her silver-embroidered\nsandals in the garden-path and skipped on her little bare feet into\nthe wet grass. While gathering the flowers she felt as though ants\nwere crawling on her and, raising her dress a little, looked over her\nshoulder at her ankles, carefully examining each. The pretty girl\nthought herself alone and unobserved, and there was something so\nbewitching in her whole appearance that it would have been a pity not\nto have had a witness.\n\nBut there _was_ a witness.\n\nLycon, who had been unable to sleep all night, because each passing day\nbrought the decision of his fate nearer, had gone out into the garden\nearly and seated himself on a bench in the nearest thicket. From his\ngreen ambush not one of Myrtale\u2019s movements escaped his notice. Had\nhe been familiar with Homer, he would have thought that she resembled\nDanae, Acrisius\u2019 daughter, and deserved the name of Callisphyrus, the\nmaid with the beautiful calves. But Lycon knew nothing of Homer, so he\ncontented himself with muttering:\n\n\u201cIs that Myrtale? How pretty she has grown.\u201d\n\nYet he did not go to meet her. Of course she would have been frightened\nby the sight of a strange man. And what should he talk about? He had\nnothing to say to her.\n\nWhile Myrtale was putting on her silver-wrought sandals, a black\nand white goat, with trailing tether, came running towards her. She\nglanced at the wet, rough-coated animal, then at her light dress and,\ndrawing back, clapped her hands violently to frighten the creature\naway. But the goat did not understand. It merely stopped in its run and\napproached slowly, holding its head very high, evidently supposing the\nmovement of her hands a challenge to play. With the mischievousness\nnatural to this animal it suddenly made a couple of short, frolicsome\nleaps, lowered its head and sharp horns, and darted towards the young\ngirl.\n\nWithout hesitation Myrtale pulled up the nearest flower-stake and\ndefended herself against the goat. But the animal, now it was once\nin fighting mood, constantly renewed the attack and the young girl\nfound it more and more difficult to keep the creature at bay. She was\ntherefore more pleased than alarmed when the bushes rustled and Lycon\nsprang out and seized the goat\u2019s tether.\n\nMyrtale silently put back the flower-stake, and busied herself in tying\nup the plant.\n\nFor some time neither spoke.\n\n\u201cAre you Myrtale, Simonides\u2019 daughter?\u201d asked Lycon, as he watched the\npretty Methonian with a pleasure he had never felt before.\n\nMyrtale nodded assent.\n\n\u201cAre you Lycon, the Athenian, my father\u2019s guest?\u201d she inquired, without\nraising her eyes to the stranger\u2019s face.\n\nLycon had scarcely time to reply, for the goat now renewed its attack\nupon him. He laughed:\n\n\u201cCome, my kid. You shall learn that I am not called Lycon with the big\nhand for nothing.\u201d\n\nSeizing one of the goat\u2019s horns with one hand, and its little tail with\nthe other, he lifted the mischievous animal from the ground so that\nits four legs hung loosely down. When he set it on the earth again\nthe creature was thoroughly cowed. Bleating feebly, it unresistingly\nallowed itself to be dragged back to the grass-plot from which it had\nescaped.\n\nAt the beehives Myrtale managed to have Lycon pass tolerably near them.\nWhile the insects were buzzing most thickly around him, she suddenly\nexclaimed:\n\n\u201cA bee, a bee!\u201d and laying her hand on Lycon\u2019s neck added: \u201cDon\u2019t you\nfeel any pain? It must have stung you. I saw it creep out from under\nyour robe.\u201d\n\nLycon denied feeling any hurt.\n\n\u201cLet me see your shoulder!\u201d continued Myrtale. \u201cAn old woman from\nHypata taught me two magic words with which the stings of wasps and\nbees can be instantly cured.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is unnecessary,\u201d replied Lycon curtly.\n\n\u201cDo as I beg you,\u201d urged Myrtale.\n\n\u201cGirl!\u201d cried Lycon impatiently, \u201cyou ask foolish things.... I will not\ndo it.\u201d\n\nMyrtale\u2019s eyes flashed, the color in her cheeks deepened, and she\nsuddenly stopped.\n\n\u201cZenon,\u201d she said, raising her voice, \u201cI, the daughter of your master\nSimonides, command you to do it.\u201d\n\nIf the earth had opened at Lycon\u2019s feet he could not have been more\nsurprised and horrified than by these words.\n\n\u201cMerciful Gods!\u201d he exclaimed, turning pale and clasping his hands,\n\u201chow do you know?--Who has told you?\u201d\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d said Myrtale sternly. \u201cNeither my father nor the slaves\nrecognized you, but I knew you at the first sound of your voice, though\nyou now speak the Attic dialect. You are Zenon, do not deny it. Shall\nI call Conops and the others, and have your robe torn off? There is a\nkappa on your shoulder; I know it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, miserable man that I am!\u201d exclaimed Lycon, wringing his hands,\nwhile his eyes filled with tears. \u201cI have seen you to my destruction.\u201d\nAnd falling at Myrtale\u2019s feet, he clasped her knees, adding: \u201cHow shall\nI answer? What am I to say?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe truth.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, I will conceal nothing, but tell you a secret which is the key of\nmy soul. Know that I am not, as you suppose, slave-born. My parents\nwere free and lived in Carystus at Eub\u0153a. My father was overseer\nof the slaves in the marble quarries. During my childhood he lived\ncomfortably; but afterwards he began to drink, became involved in\ndebt, and with his wife and child was sold into slavery. Yet, with my\nfree birth, I had obtained a different temper from that of a slave.\nThe scourge humbled far more than it hurt me, and I could not laugh\nwith the rest when the pain was over. Day and night I plotted to gain\nmy freedom and, as I could not purchase it, I resolved to steal it.\nTo be free I could have robbed the gods themselves. The first time I\nfailed--I was caught and branded. The next I was more successful....\nThere--now you know my crime.\u201d\n\nAnd he then told her about his happy life in Athens, his deep\nrepentance at Phorion\u2019s description of Simonides\u2019 illness, and his\ndetermination to restore the discipline of the household in order to\nobtain forgiveness.\n\nMyrtale did not lose a single word, but while Lycon was kneeling before\nher she noticed that his tearful eyes were very handsome, and that a\ndelicate odor of ointment rose from his hair. The power of trifles has\nalways been great, especially with women. This perfume made a strange\nimpression upon her. For a moment she forgot that Lycon was a slave,\nand compared him in her mind with the son of their neighbor the baker,\nwho after having spent ten days in Athens went as foppishly clad and\nmoved as stiffly as the Athenian dandies. She looked at Lycon\u2019s broad\nshoulders and sinewy arms--and whatever the cause, she felt more kindly\ndisposed.\n\n\u201cYou are a strange person,\u201d she said, gazing into Lycon\u2019s eyes. \u201cWho\nand what are you?... Half Athenian and half Methonian, half citizen and\nhalf slave, half Lycon and half Zenon. I will do as my father once did:\nI will trust you, though perhaps I am unwise.\u201d\n\nWith these words she was hurrying towards the house, but Lycon seized a\nfold of her robe.\n\n\u201cMyrtale,\u201d he said, \u201cbelieve me, a good emotion induced me to return.\nConsider how free from care my life was in Athens, and what I have\nrisked. Do not make me miserable--do not prematurely reveal my secret,\nso that your father will refuse me his forgiveness! He who has once\nbeen free is of no value as a slave.\u201d\n\nMyrtale noticed the shudder that ran through his limbs, and felt\nstrangely moved. She read in Lycon\u2019s eyes the anguish he was suffering\nand to console him said:\n\n\u201cHave no fear! Myrtale does not hate Lycon.... I have never forgotten\nhow kind you were to me when I was a child. I still have the little\ncart you made for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d said Lycon, deeply moved as he seized her arm and kissed it,\n\u201cI did not suppose that little Myrtale would become such a girl--so\ngood and so beautiful!\u201d\n\nMyrtale smiled.\n\n\u201cNow Lycon is forgetting Zenon!\u201d she replied, and raising her light\ndress, ran off towards the house.\n\nBut Lycon was by no means cheerful. On the contrary he was very anxious\nat knowing his secret was in a woman\u2019s keeping. \u201cThe sooner I speak to\nSimonides the better,\u201d he thought.\n\n\nVII.\n\nTwo days after, just as Lycon had breakfasted with the master of the\nhouse, Carion, the old slave, entered. Lycon was going to rise and\nleave the room, but Simonides took him by the arm and made him keep\nhis place on the edge of the couch.\n\n\u201cMaster,\u201d said old Carion, \u201cI have come to ask for myself and the rest\nof the slaves that you will forgive and forget. If you only will not\nsell us to the mines, we will obey you in everything and, as a token of\nour submission, we bring you the household implements of punishment,\nall of them, and in good condition.\u201d\n\nSimonides could scarcely believe his ears, and turned to his guest in\nspeechless surprise. Lycon laughed in his sleeve.\n\nAt a sign from Carion, two young slaves entered and laid at their\nmaster\u2019s feet large and small whips, iron collars, fetters, stocks,\nbranding irons, neck-wheels, and the so-called \u201ctree,\u201d which served\nas a pillory and at the same time inflicted the torture of sitting in\na doubled up position. Bringing in all these articles consumed time\nenough to enable Simonides to regain his composure.\n\nWithout showing his satisfaction in the presence of the slaves, he\nreplied that he would grant their petition and forgive what had\nhappened. No one should suffer oppression, but if any one did wrong\nhe would be punished. Carion, the first who had given an example of\nobedience, would be made overseer of the others, and in token that he\nhimself was ready to forget what had happened, each of them would be\nreceived that evening as if he were entering his master\u2019s house for the\nfirst time. He should be led to the hearth by the overseer and there\nreceive figs, dried grapes, nuts, and small pastry cakes, in token that\nthere was an abundance in the house and he would lack nothing.\n\nSimonides then ordered the slaves to carry the instruments of\npunishment to the room intended for them.\n\nScarcely was he alone with Lycon ere, with overflowing affection, he\npressed him to his breast.\n\n\u201cBy all the gods of friendship!\u201d he exclaimed, \u201ctell me by what magic\nyou have accomplished this?\u201d\n\nLycon now mentioned the chastisement he had given Conops, and the\ndemand he had made of the slaves in their master\u2019s name under the\npenalty of labor in the mines.\n\nSimonides grasped Lycon\u2019s hand and pressed it in both his own.\n\n\u201cThough a stranger,\u201d he said, \u201cyou have fulfilled my dearest wish and\nrestored order to my household. May the gods bless you for it! To my\ndying day I shall remember this time as a happy hour. But tell me, my\nson, is there nothing you desire, nothing I can do for you?\u201d\n\nLycon averted his face. Now, in this decisive moment, which he had\nanticipated during so many days and nights, he could not force himself\nto utter a single word.\n\n\u201cMy son,\u201d persisted Simonides, \u201cthere is something that weighs upon\nyour heart. Do not deny it. By Zeus, I want to see only happy faces\nto-day. So, tell me what it is.\u201d\n\nLycon sprang from the couch and threw himself at Simonides\u2019 feet.\n\n\u201cPardon, Master!\u201d he faltered, \u201cI am not worthy to be your guest.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat fire-brand are you casting into my bosom,\u201d cried Simonides,\nhalf-raising himself on the couch as, seized by a dark foreboding, he\ngazed with dilated eyes at the kneeling figure.\n\nLycon turned deadly pale. Grasping a fold of Simonides\u2019 robe, he said\nin a voice almost choked with emotion:\n\n\u201cMaster ... don\u2019t you know me?... I am your slave Zenon.\u201d\n\n\u201cWonder-working Gods!\u201d exclaimed Simonides doubtfully, \u201cwhat am I\ncompelled to hear!\u201d\n\n\u201cMercy, Master, mercy!\u201d\n\nSimonides, uttering a fierce cry, kicked Lycon away with his foot.\n\n\u201cThief,\u201d he shouted, trembling with rage, \u201cmiserable thief, you have\nstolen my money and my health, what do you seek in my house? Have you\ncome here to rob me a second time?... For two years I have not suffered\nyour name to be spoken in my hearing.... Begone, begone from my sight,\nyou source of my misery--you destroyer of the happiness of my life!\u201d\n\nAnd as Lycon still lingered, Simonides pointed to the door of the\nperistyle, shouting imperatively: \u201cGo, go, I command you!\u201d\n\nLycon left the room with drooping head, without casting a glance\nbehind. He no longer had a hope.\n\nAt the same moment the curtain at the door of a side-chamber stirred\nslightly, and soon after Myrtale entered and silently seated herself\non the edge of the couch at her father\u2019s feet. She was very pale, and\nthrough the folds of her thin dress the rapid rising and falling of her\nbosom showed that she was struggling for breath. Simonides scarcely\nseemed to notice her and, without moving or looking up, she waited\npatiently for him to speak.\n\nAt last he broke the silence.\n\n\u201cDo you know who Lycon is?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cYes, I know.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you did not tell me?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was _his_ business to confess, not mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you advise, Myrtale?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo wait until to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo let Lycon sentence himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cOne of two things will happen--either he will run away during the\nnight and then his solicitude for himself will be greater than his\nrepentance, or he will stay, and then his repentance will be deep\nenough to make him prefer to suffer everything rather than not obtain\nyour forgiveness.\u201d\n\nSimonides drew Myrtale towards him and stroked her pretty brown hair.\n\n\u201cPolycles is right,\u201d he said, \u201cyour name ought to have been Metis[U]\nand not Myrtale.... But will not Lycon take advantage of the night to\nsteal from me again?\u201d\n\n                                  [U] Prudence, ingenuity.\n\nMyrtale made no reply, but the lines around her mouth expressed so much\nwrath and scorn that Simonides in surprise looked at her more closely.\nA glittering streak ran from her eyes down over her cheeks.\n\n\u201cSo you trust him?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI _do_ trust him,\u201d replied Myrtale so earnestly that her father\nremained silent a long time.\n\n\u201cWas I too severe?\u201d he said at last.\n\nMyrtale did not answer.\n\n\u201cRemember, child, that the service he has rendered to me is nothing in\ncomparison to the crime he committed. If his own sin had not made me\nill, I should never have needed his assistance.\u201d\n\nThe next morning, while Lycon was uncertain whether he ought to go to\nSimonides or wait for the latter\u2019s orders, a boy entered and said:\n\n\u201cSimonides asks Lycon to come to him.\u201d\n\nThis message showed he was not to be treated as a slave.\n\n\u201cI will come,\u201d Lycon hastily replied, and when the lad had gone he\nfairly leaped into the air in his delight.\n\nBefore he had left the guest-room he remembered that during his\nrestless sleep he had had a dream. In his childhood he had often seen\na little boy, the son of poor parents, known by the name of unlucky\nKnemon, because he looked so doleful that everybody slapped and pushed\nhim because he really seemed to invite cuffs. This boy had appeared\nto him in the dream. Lycon tried to push him aside--but at the same\nmoment the lad was transformed and Eros himself stood smiling before\nhim, a garland of roses on his hair. Gazing intently at Lycon he shook\nhis finger at him. Lycon thought of Myrtale and murmured: \u201cI accept the\nomen.\u201d\n\nThis dream now returned to his mind.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cyesterday I was a doleful, unlucky Lycon; I\ninvited a beating--so Simonides kicked me.... Would a dog get so many\nblows if it did not crouch before its master? Well, I will be braver\nto-day.\u201d\n\nWith these words he took up the two bundles he had brought with him\nfrom Athens.\n\n\u201cWhat have you there?\u201d asked Simonides, as he saw Lycon enter with a\npackage under each arm.\n\n\u201cNot my property, but yours,\u201d replied Lycon.\n\nSimonides understood that the parcels contained the ready money and\narticles of value Lycon had brought with him from Athens.\n\n\u201cPut them there,\u201d he said, pointing to a small cabinet.\n\nLycon laid the bundles down.\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d Simonides continued, \u201cwhat did you think about your position\nin the city?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing--by Zeus!\u201d said Lycon, as though amused by his own freedom\nfrom anxiety. \u201cI had so much to do in becoming acquainted with people\nand things in Athens, that I forgot both past and future and, when I\nheard Phorion speak of your illness and your servants\u2019 laziness and\nnegligence, I was so busy in selling my house and slaves to hasten to\nyour assistance that not until during the journey here did I find an\nopportunity to think of scourges, fetters, and branding-irons--in short\nof all that might await me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid it not occur to you to run away during the night?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly,\u201d replied Lycon; \u201cbut I said to myself: \u2018Then it would have\nbeen better not to come at all.\u2019 So I stayed.\u201d\n\n\u201cWere you not afraid of being enslaved again?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Lycon quietly; \u201cyou would not do that. You know that a man\nwho has lived for years as a free citizen cannot become a bondsman.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, by Hera!\u201d exclaimed Simonides laughing, \u201cyou are a strange\nmortal. Yesterday you were all humility, and to-day you dictate what I\nam to do. Yet I like Lycon better to-day than yesterday! Take one of my\nslaves with you, look about the city and return at dinner time; by that\ntime I shall have considered what will serve you best.\u201d\n\n\nVIII.\n\nAccompanied by the gigantic Conops, who had volunteered his services,\nLycon went to the market. It was a little open square, one side\noccupied by the council-hall, a pretty new pillared building, another\nby an ancient temple of Poseidon, one of the noteworthy objects in the\ncity, a third by an arcade used for a shelter in rainy weather, and the\nfourth by the houses of the citizens.\n\nThough it was still early in the day, the place was crowded. Lycon\nfound entertainment in looking about him for, although only in\nminiature, this market-place was an image of the one in Athens.\n\nCountry people, standing in booths made of interwoven green branches,\nwere selling fresh cheese, eggs, honey, oil, fruit, and green\nvegetables; one or two potters were loudly praising their painted jars;\nbakers\u2019 wives were half concealed behind huge piles of bread and cakes,\nand young flower-girls sat among their bright-hued, fragrant wares,\nbusily making wreaths. Freemen, as well as male and female slaves,\nwandered among the booths, bargaining here and there, while youths\nin light mantles, with embroidered fillets around their hair, jested\nwith the prettiest saleswomen. But the most successful person was a\n_neurospastes_, the owner of a puppet-show, who had taken his stand on\na spot generally used for a slave-mart. Unseen himself, he pulled the\nhidden strings which set the ugly puppets\u2019 bodies in motion so that, to\nthe delight of the children and their pedagogues, the figures made the\nmost ridiculous gestures.\n\nLycon had stopped a moment to look at the busy puppets and the laughing\nchildren, when a strange, deafening noise was suddenly heard.\n\nIt seemed as though a countless number of chains were falling with\na prolonged, rattling clash into a measureless depth, yet it was\nimpossible to tell whence the sound came. It filled the earth and\nthe air, and withal was so mighty, so startling, that all jest, all\nconversation ceased. Even the animals were roused from their usual\nrepose, and the swallows which had been darting and twittering about\nthe market-place and up and down the long Street of the Bakers,\nsuddenly gathered into flocks and soared screaming into the air as if\ntrying to escape some danger.\n\nNo one remembered having heard anything like it; no one knew what it\nwas. But, from the people who came thronging up, it was soon learned\nthat the noise had been just as loud inside the most closely shut rooms\nin the houses as in the open market-place and just as near and distinct\nin each remote part of the city, nay even on the ships in the port. The\ncrews of the vessels declared that the sound came from the water.\n\nOnly one old smith, a man almost a hundred years of age, seemed to\nsuspect the cause. He shook his head anxiously, but would not speak\nfreely. \u201cI may be wrong,\u201d he said, \u201cbut take my advice. Keep out of the\nhouses--that will perhaps save many a life.\u201d\n\nLycon felt as though some misfortune was impending. Accompanied by\nConops, without knowing where he was going, he had walked down to the\nharbor, where he had not been since his return to the city. The view\nhere offered to his gaze was so magnificent and beautiful that it made\nthe same impression as if he were beholding it for the first time. Ere\nlong he felt his mind relieved and his former light-heartedness return.\n\n\u201cWhat should happen?\u201d he said to himself. \u201cCan a summer day be clearer\nor brighter than this?\u201d\n\nThe sun rode high in the heavens. Not a cloud was visible far or near,\nand not a breath of air was stirring. About thirty boats and small\nvessels were lying at a quay built of large limestone-blocks--the ones\nwhose masts were seen from the Street of the Bakers. On the right the\ngaze rested upon the highest part of the city, above which rose the\ndistant mountains of Pherae; at the left the smiling, fertile coast\nextended almost as far as the eye could reach, towering upward into a\nspur of Pelion. Over the green water of the bay, that glittered like\na mirror, fishing boats and pleasure craft glided past each other and\nbeyond, like a broad dark-blue stripe, appeared the Pagasaean Gulf,\nwhich melted into the open sea, flashing like gold in the sunshine.\nOn the opposite side of the gulf rose the promontory of Pyrrha, while\nthrough the mists of distance gleamed the coast-cities, and behind them\nthe ridge of the Othrys mountains, over which led the road to Locris,\nB\u0153otia, and Attica.\n\nLycon stopped at the first of the little vessels, whose owner, an old\nsailor named Dorion, he had formerly known. The sight of this man\nvividly brought to mind what strangely different fates the same years\nmay bring. While he himself had been in Athens, seeing and hearing so\nmany new things that his memory could scarcely retain them, Dorion\nhad daily sailed to and fro across the same corner of the bay to get\nand sell sand. Yet he seemed content, and when Lycon entered into\nconversation with him he told him with joyous satisfaction that his\nboat was new, that his sons had built it, and that it was large enough\nfor him to make longer voyages.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d cried Dorion, suddenly interrupting himself and springing into\nthe bow, \u201clook, look, how the sea is falling! Holy Dioscuri! What is\nhappening before our eyes?... I never saw the water run out so fast.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the second marvel to-day,\u201d said Lycon. \u201cWhat can it mean?\u201d\n\nEven while they were speaking the boat and all the other small vessels\nsank lower and lower, so that the lime-stone quay seemed to tower\nfar above them. Confused shouts and shrieks echoed from one craft to\nanother and a moment after the inner bay, except for a few pools of\nwater, lay as dry as a heath. Where the glittering surface of the waves\nhad just extended, nothing was now seen save the greyish sand overgrown\nhere and there with large and small patches of sea-weed. The little\nvessels which a short time before were flitting about far out on the\nwater, now lay on dry ground, keeling over upon one side, and their\ncrews were seen like small black dots standing around them uncertain\nwhat to do.\n\nConops, who had watched what was occurring with less indifference and\ndullness than usual, now made an apt remark.\n\n\u201cIf the bay had been a drinking cup,\u201d he said, \u201cand there was an\ninvisible mouth reaching from one shore to the other, the water could\nnot have been drained quicker--in five, six long swallows.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d cried Dorion suddenly, \u201cif I see aright, the water is\nreturning.\u201d\n\nLycon shaded his eyes with his hand and looked out towards the bay.\nThe mass of water was moving across the cove like a rampart nine or\nten ells high, the crest and bottom white with foam, and at a velocity\ngreater than that of a man running at full speed. He saw the billow\nroll under the craft resting on the ground, raise them aloft, and sweep\nthem onward in its own mad course.\n\nFollowed by Conops, he leaped into Dorion\u2019s boat, shouting at the top\nof his voice to the people in the other vessels:\n\n\u201cLoose the boats from the quay!... or the water will fill them and\ndrown us all.\u201d\n\nThese words ran from mouth to mouth.\n\nThen a thundering roar echoed from the approaching mass of water, it\nburied the quay in snowy foam, raised one boat after another,--not\nwithout partially filling them--and bore them with furious speed up the\nStreet of the Bakers, which lay straight before the landing-place.\n\nLycon, Dorion, and Conops had succeeded, with the help of oars and\npoles, in keeping their craft clear of trees and houses. As if in a\ndream they heard wild cries of terror and saw the two buildings nearest\nthe harbor sink under the force of the water, while some of the small\nvessels were stranded on the fallen walls and pillars.\n\nSoon after another surge came rolling in and, amid fresh shrieks from\ndrowning men, swept the boats farther on into the middle of the long\nstreet. Lycon saw with delight that Simonides\u2019 house stood uninjured,\nthough the water was more than half way over the door.\n\nAlmost at the same moment human figures were seen on the roofs of the\nnearest houses, and they heard the shrieks and wails of women, which\nreminded Lycon of the lamentations daily resounding during the Adonis\nfestival in Athens. But it was easy to perceive that this was a more\nserious matter for, with the shrieks mingled the shouts of numerous men\ncalling, each from his own side of the street, to the boats for aid.\n\nLycon\u2019s heart swelled with a humanity as warm as the greatness of the\nperil surrounding him. Springing to the stern he shouted to the men in\nthe nearest boats:\n\n\u201cFriends! let us thank the gods for our own deliverance by saving as\nmany of these unfortunates as possible. Let nine or ten of the boats\nrow about in the next street. There is enough for us all to do until\nevening, though there seems to be only one street besides this under\nwater.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Athenian is right,\u201d replied a voice from another vessel. \u201cLet us\ndo what we can for the city. Have we not all acquaintances and friends\nhere?\u201d\n\nLycon and Dorion now rowed the boat to Simonides\u2019 house. There was\nonly one person to be seen on the roof--Paegnion.\n\n\u201cWhere are Simonides and his daughter?\u201d asked Lycon.\n\n\u201cOn the roof of the women\u2019s apartment.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd where are the slaves?\u201d enquired Conops.\n\n\u201cOn the stable.\u201d\n\nLycon poled the boat between the buildings. Suddenly it was shaken from\nstem to stern by a strange, mysterious shock, which congealed the blood\nin Lycon\u2019s veins. This shock was repeated, though the boat was floating\nin water three ells deep and had not run against anything.\n\nAt the same moment a cry of horror ran from roof to roof.\n\n\u201c_Seiei, seiei!_ The earth is shaking, it\u2019s an earthquake.\u201d\n\nLycon now understood that the day\u2019s prodigies, the noise and the flood,\nwere connected with what was occurring.\n\nThough neither of the shocks had lasted longer than the short time\nrequired for a man to raise his arms and let them fall again, the\nresult was terrible; two of the houses in the street sank crashing\ninto the water with the hapless people on their roofs. Fortunately\nthe ruins formed a heap large enough to enable most of the inmates to\nkeep themselves above the tide until the boats could come to their\nassistance.\n\nLycon perceived that there was no time to lose. Anxiously as his\nown heart throbbed, he encouraged Dorion and Conops. They took off\nPaegnion, though not without difficulty and, uniting their strength,\nurged the boat towards the women\u2019s apartment.\n\nBut between the buildings the dark, muddy water moved in a powerful\nstream and, as Dorion unluckily broke his oar, the boat was swept\nwith irresistible force past the corner of the women\u2019s apartment out\ninto the garden. Here it struck against the tops of some bushes and\nsuddenly struck fast between the trunks of two trees concealed at the\nbottom by the water and at the top by leaves. It required a long time\nand much exertion to release it from this position, and the task was\nnot accomplished until after the water had reached a level in the\nflooded streets, so that the current was less swift. When they at last\nsucceeded in getting back to the women\u2019s apartment, they found it\nimpossible to save Simonides and his daughter without the help of a\nladder.\n\nLycon was beginning to get impatient over these delays, for the day was\nwaning.\n\nConops knew that there ought to be a ladder in the stable, but when\nthe boat reached the place it had disappeared. After some search it\nwas found where they least expected to discover it. A rude two-wheeled\nharvest cart had caught on a marble monument by the side of the house,\nand the pole of this cart had accidentally run between the rounds of\nthe ladder and held it fast.\n\nIt was not without fresh difficulties that they succeeded in raising\nthe ladder to the roof of the women\u2019s apartment; and it was high\ntime, for the stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky. Lycon found\nSimonides and Myrtale in a very exhausted condition; the clothing of\nboth was drenched with water, and they had spent the whole afternoon\nin dread lest the house should yield to the pressure of the flood and\nsink beneath it. The overseer Carion, who had helped Myrtale carry her\nfather up the stairs, had vainly sought to obtain dry garments; nothing\ncould be found in the little rooms under the roof.\n\nSimonides was shaking so violently with a feverish chill that his teeth\nchattered; his eyes were closed and he muttered now and then a few\nunintelligible words; but when Lycon carried him down to the boat he\npressed his hand. When Lycon turned to bring Myrtale she was already\nstanding by her father\u2019s side. Light and agile as the pretty little\ncreature which shades itself with its tail,[V] she had sprung into the\nboat unaided.\n\n                                  [V] Squirrel.\n\nFortunately the craft was a large one, for there were many to save\nand, much as Lycon hastened the work of rescuing the slaves and their\nchildren from the stable-roof, by the time all had embarked night had\nclosed in, so that it was difficult to find the way out between the\nbuildings.\n\n\nIX.\n\nIt was a strange voyage, which none of the occupants of the boat ever\nforgot. The Street of the Bakers, the largest and finest street in the\ncity, usually so full of life, this evening, for the first time within\nthe memory of man, neither resounded with loud conversations from door\nto door, nor the merry songs of young men echoing from the wine-shops;\nsilence reigned in harmony with the ruin that everywhere met the eye.\nThe rippling and gurgling of the water, as well as the light strokes\nof the oars and the murmured words of the boatmen when two craft met,\nwere the only sounds that interrupted the gloomy stillness. The houses\nwere outlined in dark masses against the sky; but whenever an opening\nbetween them was reached columns of smoke and blazing flames were seen\nin the distance, which shed a murky light on the angles of the houses,\nthe faces in the boats, and the smallest ripple upon the surface of the\nwater. Ever and anon a shower of sparks fell hissing into the waves,\nand sometimes the cool evening breeze swept a veil of smoke over the\nstreet, bringing with it a suffocating smell of fire.\n\nAt the edge of the flood the people stood in little groups talking\ntogether. From them it was learned that some of the houses in the\nhigher part of the city had also fallen. There had been fire on their\nhearths, the flames had caught the ruins, and it was these buildings\nwhich were now burning.\n\nAt the house of Polycles the wine-dealer, where Lycon, by Myrtale\u2019s\nrequest, took her father, an unusual bustle prevailed. Lanterns were\nhung on slender poles in front of the house, and at a number of small\ntables sat part of the citizens, discussing over a goblet of wine all\nthat had happened on this eventful day.\n\nAt the sight of Lycon, who, with the closely-veiled Myrtale, was\nsupporting Simonides, an eager murmur arose; some rose to get a better\nview; others pointed to him as though saying: \u201cThat\u2019s he!\u201d and from one\ntable to another the question ran in low tones:\n\n\u201cIs that the Athenian?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe one who saved the sailors by unfastening the boats?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who helped the citizens in the flooded streets?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho knows him?--Who can tell whether it\u2019s he?\u201d\n\nThe temptation was too strong for Conops; he forgot to ask whether he\nmight speak.\n\n\u201cI can tell you that!\u201d he replied, not without a touch of pride; \u201che\u2019s\nmy master\u2019s guest, and I\u2019ve been with him all day, first at market and\nthen in the boat--he and no other is Lycon the Athenian.\u201d\n\nA universal shout of applause rang out; several women of light repute,\nwho were passing, flung him kisses, and Polycles, the owner of the\nhouse, grasped his hand, saying:\n\n\u201cIf you are the Lycon of whom everybody is talking, you are a man of\nhonor to whom the city owes more than a new robe.\u201d\n\nThen, with the most cordial sympathy, Polycles welcomed the sick\nSimonides and his daughter, and learning from the latter\u2019s lips that\nthey had spent the afternoon in terror lest the house should fall and\nbury them in the water, he said:\n\n\u201cI won\u2019t take you to my old stone mansion--there might be another\nshock of earthquake--but I have in my garden a good new wooden barn,\nwhere you can rest in safety and be supplied by my old housekeeper\nwith everything necessary. The slaves shall be cared for as well as\npossible.\u201d And, as he took Simonides\u2019 arm out of Lycon\u2019s to guide him\nand Myrtale to their temporary abode, he called to one of the boys who\nwere hurrying about waiting on the guests and ordered him to bring\nLycon wine, barley bread, cheese, and fruit.\n\nWhile the latter was hurriedly eating the meal before returning to\nDorian\u2019s boat, Polycles came back from the garden and Lycon hastened to\nsay:\n\n\u201cI see that many of the citizens have assembled here. Could not some\nof the younger ones relieve one another in guarding the burned houses,\nthat no one in the absence of the master and the darkness of the night,\nmay get in and take what still remains. A watch will be kept from the\nboats upon the houses in the flooded streets.\u201d\n\nInstead of answering, Polycles turned to the people seated at the\ntables and called in a loud voice:\n\n\u201cCitizens, this stranger puts us to shame. He seems to think more and\ntake wiser care of our city than we who were born and have spent our\nlives here. Do you know what he proposes?\u201d\n\nPolycles had scarcely repeated Lycon\u2019s advice ere twelve or fourteen\nyoung men came forward, ready for the required service. Soon after they\nwere divided into three parties, the first of which, supplied with a\nsack of Chian wine and accompanied by some slaves, went to the scene of\nthe fire.\n\n\u201cMy house is yours,\u201d said Polycles to Lycon, \u201ccome here when there is\nnothing more to be saved. You will need rest and sleep if the night is\nquiet.\u201d\n\nBefore Lycon, followed by Conops, again entered the boat, he lighted\nwith the help of some of the citizens a large pile of wood on the\nedge of the flood, so that the vessels might be provided with torches\nwhenever they brought anything they had rescued ashore. Then an\nagreement was made between the captains of the boats about sharing the\nwork. Half a score of the craft were stationed in each street, five\non a side. The rest were to help wherever assistance was most needed\nand, as ladders had been found necessary in many instances, most of the\nboats were provided with them.\n\nWhen everything was arranged in this way, the work of rescue\nprogressed more rapidly than Lycon had expected, and when at last no\nvoice called for aid, the twenty boats had saved the owners of more\nthan twenty houses, besides a large number of slaves.\n\nLycon, attended by Conops, now hurried back to Polycles\u2019 house. The\nwine-dealer came to meet him with a troubled face and told him that\nSimonides was dangerously ill. The cold and fright he had endured had\nbeen too severe a trial for him.\n\nAs Lycon entered the wooden barn where Simonides and his daughter were\nlodged, his first glance sought the sick man. The latter\u2019s eyes were\nopen, but stared fixedly into vacancy, and his thin hands fumbled to\nand fro over the coverlids with a convulsive twitching. Lycon wished to\napproach, but Polycles held him back.\n\nOn the opposite side of the couch sat a little man of grave and\ndignified bearing, dressed in a white robe. Lycon instantly saw that\nthis was the physician; for ever and anon he took the sick man\u2019s hand\nto judge of his condition by the pulse, and on a little table close\nbeside him lay his pouch of medicines and the instruments used in his\nprofession. At the foot of the bed stood the overseer, Carion, with\nclasped hands and eyes fixed on his suffering master.\n\nThe preparations hastily made for the latter\u2019s comfort showed that\nthe household was a wealthy one. Milesian carpets were hung in a\nsemi-circle around the couch to shut out every draught of air, and\nbeneath its ivory feet Babylonian stuffs had been spread to prevent any\nchill from the stone floor.\n\nThe twitching of the sick man\u2019s hands gradually ceased. The physician\nrose softly and went to Polycles.\n\n\u201cSimonides is better,\u201d he said. \u201cBut if you have anything important to\ndiscuss with him, do not delay. His voice will soon become thick and\nunintelligible.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think his death is near?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it is the will of the gods, he may live a day or more; but he will\nnever rise from this bed.\u201d\n\nSoon after, the restless movements of the patient\u2019s hands ceased and\nthey fell feebly on the coverlid. Raising his head with difficulty he\nlooked around him.\n\n\u201cWhere is Myrtale?\u201d was his first question.\n\n\u201cShe is preparing a decoction the doctor ordered,\u201d replied the\nwine-dealer.\n\n\u201cAnd Lycon?\u201d\n\n\u201cHere,\u201d said Polycles, beckoning to Lycon to approach the bed.\n\n\u201cIs it true,\u201d asked Simonides, \u201cthat you have saved the citizens in the\nflooded streets, besides numerous slaves?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot my boat only, all the small craft.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s the same thing,\u201d said Simonides with a faint smile, \u201cyou will now\nand in the future be regarded as one of the benefactors of the city,\na sort of demi-god--and as it is not seemly for a demi-god to be a\nbondsman, I shall give you your liberty. Polycles, who knows everything\nthat concerns you, has added the necessary codicil to my last will,\nwhich he and the physician have signed as witnesses.\u201d\n\nLycon knelt beside the couch, clasped Simonides\u2019 hand, and covered it\nwith kisses. \u201cI thank you,\u201d he faltered, overwhelmed by emotion. \u201cYou\nhave fulfilled my dearest wish. I have obtained my freedom--and this\ntime I did not steal it.\u201d\n\nSoon after the curtain at the door was pushed aside and Myrtale\nentered, followed by the old housekeeper. She held a glass cup in her\nhands and seemed to have eyes only for her sick father. The physician\npoured a few drops from a little flask into the smoking potion, and\nSimonides drank a few mouthfuls. \u201cHow it revives me!\u201d he said, while\nMyrtale was straightening the embroidered pillows under his head and\nshoulders. \u201cAre those lamps which shine so? It seems as though I saw\nthe sun in the midst of the night.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you feel better, old friend?\u201d asked Polycles.\n\nA glimmer of his former mirthful spirit sparkled in Simonides\u2019 small\nbrown eyes.\n\n\u201cThat fellow yonder,\u201d he whispered, pointing to the physician, \u201chas\ngiven me too many drops. He didn\u2019t make me well, but drunk.\u201d\n\nThen, with an unexpectedly sudden movement, he seized Myrtale\u2019s arm.\nHis mouth and chin projected so that he was almost unrecognizable, and\na corpse-like hue overspread his face as swiftly as though an unseen\nhand had caused it by gliding lightly over it.\n\n\u201cHe is dying! he is dying!\u201d cried Myrtale and, sobbing passionately,\nshe flung herself upon her father\u2019s breast.\n\n\nX.\n\nA large clay jar filled with water, placed outside the door of\nPolycles\u2019 dwelling, announced the next morning, to all who passed,\nthat the mansion was a house of mourning. While the female slaves were\nperfuming and dressing the dead man, Polycles was talking with Myrtale\nabout Simonides\u2019 last will.\n\nMyrtale had no brother, but was a so-called inheriting daughter.[W] As\nthere was no kinsman whom she could wed and endow with her fortune,\nSimonides had bequeathed his whole property, amounting to twenty\ntalents, to his friend Polycles on condition that he should marry\nMyrtale. If Polycles was not willing to do this, he was to inherit only\ntwo talents and then use his best judgment in choosing a husband for\nthe young girl who, in such a case, was to keep all the rest of the\nfortune as a dowry.\n\n                                  [W] In Athens, daughters inherited\n                                      only in default of male heirs.\n\nMuch as Myrtale was absorbed in her grief, she felt the importance\nof the arrangements which would decide her fate. So it was a great\nrelief to her when Polycles said that he was too old to take a young\nwife and, moreover, had been warned in a dream against marrying again.\nOne night in his sleep he had seen his house decked with garlands as\nthough for a bridal; but when he was leading the bride home the green\nwreath vanished and, in its place above the door, hung an oil-jar,\ntwined with a blue ribbon, as though for an offering at a tomb. The\ninterpreter of dreams being consulted had said that if Polycles married\nhe would die on his wedding day.\n\nPolycles then asked the young girl to consider him a second father,\nand added that he would not act against her wishes in the choice of a\nbridegroom.\n\nDuring the day another shock of earthquake was felt, and though it\ndid no damage except to open cracks in the ancient walls of the city,\nuniversal terror was aroused. Some fled to the market-place, and\nothers, fearing another flood, to the nearest heights. This dread,\nhowever, proved groundless. On the contrary, the water in the inundated\nstreets began to fall so rapidly that the boats were obliged to follow\nit in haste, and by noon they were again lying at their usual place,\nmoored to the lime-stone quay, though this quay no longer rose so far\nabove the surface of the tide and the whole of the old shore, with its\npebbles, sea-weed, and mussel-shells, remained under the waves.\n\nSimonides\u2019 funeral was conducted as beseemed a wealthy family. The\ncorpse, crowned with myrtle and resting on embroidered pillows, was\ndisplayed upon a couch, where it was seen during the day by a throng of\ncitizens, old and young, rich and poor, some of the latter clad in grey\nor black clothes with closely cut hair, asserting by this mourning garb\na distant relationship.\n\nOn the day of the funeral obsequies hundreds of persons assembled\noutside the house and, before the sun rose, the funeral procession\nstarted amid the mournful notes of Carian flutes, alternating with\na chorus of men\u2019s voices. This choir was followed by the dead man\u2019s\nfriends and acquaintances, numbering more than half the citizens of the\nplace. Then came the bier, an ivory bed, borne by friends and freedmen,\namong them Lycon, to whom many hands pointed and many lips mentioned as\nthe \u201cpreserver of the city, the quick-witted Athenian.\u201d On the ivory\ncouch lay the dead man, robed in white and covered with so many wreaths\nand blue and red sacrifice ribbons, that the magnificent purple carpet\nin which he was wrapped could scarcely be seen. By the side of the bier\nwalked slaves bearing oil jars, boxes of ointment, and other articles\nbelonging to the funeral rites. Then came a few elderly kinswomen, for\nMyrtale was too young to follow the corpse. The train was closed by\na few sacrifice attendants in short parti-colored mantles and light\nhalf boots, who bore on their heads small offering-tables covered with\nofferings of the same kind as those the slaves carried beside the bier.\n\nAt the farthest end of Polycles\u2019 garden the funeral train stopped on\na height which afforded a view of the city, harbor, bay, and country\nbeyond. This had always been Simonides\u2019 favorite spot, and he had often\nexpressed a desire to be laid to rest here.\n\nAt the foot of the hill was seen the huge funeral pyre, a heap of logs\nfilled with combustible materials. After it had been adorned with the\njars, vases, and dishes brought, and the bier lifted upon it, it was\nlighted by torches. Amid the sobs and wails of the spectators, the\nflames flared high into the air and in an instant the smoke and red\nblaze enveloped the bier, concealing it from every eye. Many an oil\njar, many a box of ointment was now flung upon the fire as a last token\nof affection and, when it was once more possible to see the pyre, the\nbier had crumbled into a dark, shapeless mass, from which rose a column\nof black smoke.\n\nThe majority of the procession returned to Polycles\u2019 house and there,\nas the dead man\u2019s guests, partook of a festal banquet. Some few, among\nthem Lycon, remained until the ashes were collected and the bones\ncommitted to the bosom of the earth.\n\nThree days after the first, and nine days after the second offering to\nthe dead was brought to the grave. About a week later a marble column\nwas erected upon it, crowned with a capital made of colored acanthus\nleaves. The thirtieth day after the funeral obsequies Myrtale twined\nthe memorial column with blue and red sacrifice ribbons from which hung\nsmall oil jars, after which she poured milk, honey, spring-water, and\nmixed wine on the ground as a sacrifice to the rich man\u2019s shade, taking\ncareful heed to throw each one of the vessels she had used over her\nshoulder, so that they were shattered, for none of the articles which\nhad served at a funeral ceremonial could be used by the living.\n\nWith this offering the time of mourning ended.\n\n\nXI.\n\nA few days later Polycles and Myrtale visited Simonides\u2019 country-house\nto look after a vineyard whose fruit, in Polycles\u2019 opinion, was the\nbest in Thessaly. When they returned home, accompanied by a male and\nfemale slave, evening was approaching. The sun was sinking behind some\nhills, and the atmosphere glowed with orange and crimson hues. The\nroad they were following was only marked by a few deep wheel tracks\nin the grass; on the right was a clump of gnarled olive trees, whose\nfoliage as usual reflected the color of the sky, so that now in the\nsunset radiance they seemed covered with a golden veil; on the left\na brook flowed between hedges of flowering laurel. A light mist was\nrising from the meadows, and the whole air was filled with the spicy\nodor of blossoms. Ever and anon a faint twitter echoed from the bushes;\nsometimes a bee, apparently bewildered and drowsy, buzzed upward from\nthe grass at their feet, and through the profound stillness of the\ncountry a dog\u2019s bark was heard in the distance.\n\nThere was something in the peacefulness of the evening which invited\nfamiliar conversation. Polycles took Myrtale\u2019s hand.\n\n\u201cDear child,\u201d he said. \u201cIt is time to think of your affairs.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean, Polycles?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am wondering whether among the youths of the city, whom you must\nhave seen on festival days, there is not one you would like for a\nhusband.\u201d\n\nMyrtale blushed faintly, but shook her head.\n\n\u201cThere is Theagenes, the son of Straton, the dyer. True, he is rather\nstout for a young man, but he is clever, talks well, and has a fortune\nat least as large as your own.\u201d\n\nMyrtale made no reply; but struck, with the tassel on the corner of her\nupper robe, the head of a dandelion growing by the roadside, so that\nits white down flew in every direction.\n\nPolycles understood that the proposed suitor was excluded from the list.\n\n\u201cThere is Eumolpus, son of Socles the rope-maker!\u201d he continued. \u201cHe is\nslender, well-formed, and handsome. True, he is on intimate terms with\na hetaira, but after marriage....\u201d\n\nMyrtale made no answer in words; but the tassel was put in motion with\nthe same result as before.\n\n\u201cThere is also,\u201d added Polycles, \u201cyoung Nicias, your neighbor\u2019s son.\nI don\u2019t deny that since his visit to Athens he has become a dandy;\nbut....\u201d\n\nThis was too much for Myrtale; she forgot the reserve required of a\nyoung girl and wrathfully exclaimed:\n\n\u201cThe coxcomb!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is there no one?\u201d\n\nMyrtale silently lowered her eyes; then, to change the conversation,\nsaid:\n\n\u201cHow is the house in the Street of the Bakers? Has it been much damaged\nby the flood and the earthquake?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly one of the pillars in the peristyle was twisted awry; but the\ndamage has been repaired and, so far as your home is concerned, you can\nhave the wedding there any day.\u201d\n\nAs they approached the city Myrtale became more and more thoughtful.\nSuddenly she sighed, drew her hand from her companion\u2019s clasp, and\nremarked:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a pity that Lycon is a slave!\u201d Then, as if fearing she had said\ntoo much, she hastened to add: \u201cDon\u2019t you think so, too?\u201d\n\nPolycles looked keenly at her and, in spite of the dusk of evening, he\nnoticed that her cheeks were flushed.\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, child,\u201d he replied. \u201cLycon is no slave. Your father\nfreed him on the day of his death.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I knew nothing about it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou were standing at the hearth, preparing the decoction the physician\nhad ordered.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear father!\u201d exclaimed Myrtale, deeply moved, kissing her fingers\nas if she had seen the dead man alive before her.\n\n\u201cBut that doesn\u2019t settle everything,\u201d said Polycles gravely. \u201cIn Athens\nLycon is a spurious citizen and subject to the penalty of the law. He\nwould be made a slave there.\u201d\n\nMyrtale started.\n\n\u201cDo what you can for him,\u201d she said hurriedly, clasping Polycles\u2019 hand\nin both her own.\n\n\u201cThat is no easy matter,\u201d replied Polycles, who found a secret\nsatisfaction in being entreated to do what he himself intended. \u201cIt\u2019s\nno easy matter, I tell you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou _can_ free him, if you _wish_. Remember what he has done for the\ncity. Besides, did he not save my father\u2019s life and mine?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll think of it,\u201d said Polycles.\n\n\u201cNo, no, you must promise me!\u201d exclaimed Myrtale. \u201cSave him from the\npunishment of the law, and I will be a daughter to you!\u201d And raising\nherself on tiptoe, she flung her arms around Polycles\u2019 neck and kissed\nhim on the cheek.\n\nPolycles felt the soft pressure of Myrtale\u2019s youthful figure and, when\nhe had taken leave of her at the door of the women\u2019s apartment in his\nhouse, he stood still, absorbed in thought.\n\n\u201cBy Aphrodite!\u201d he cried, \u201cthe girl is bewitching, and I am not so\nold....\u201d\n\nBut at the same instant he beheld, as he had done in his dream,\nthe oil-jar suspended by a blue ribbon over the door of his house.\nHe pressed his hands upon his eyes and, when he entered his lonely\nsleeping-room, he said, sighing:\n\n\u201cPolycles, you are a greater simpleton than I had supposed.\u201d\n\n\nXII.\n\nThe next morning the public criers summoned the citizens to a popular\nassembly, and soon after the streets were filled with young and old,\nrich and poor, who, amid hubbub, shrieks, and laughter, flocked towards\nthe theatre, the place where popular assemblies were usually held in\nthe smaller cities.\n\nThessaly, renowned for its beautiful river valley, its fine horses,\nand its powerful sorceresses, was at that time under the sole rule\nof Alexander of Pherae--a man who treated his subjects so harshly\nthat he ordered some to be buried alive and had others dressed in\nbear-skins and torn to pieces by dogs. Like all tyrants, he lived in\nperpetual fear. He had so little faith in his own body guard that he\nhad himself watched by a dog; he spent the night in the upper loft of\nhis stately palace, that he might be able to draw the ladder up after\nhim. The family to which he belonged had raised themselves from Tagoi,\nchiefs elected by the people, to sovereigns, and he himself, like his\npredecessor, had paved his way to power by murder.\n\nBut heavily as Alexander\u2019s yoke rested upon the city of Pherae, it was\ncomparatively little felt in Methone, though the latter was scarcely a\nday\u2019s journey away. When the little city had sent its quota of men to\nthe army and paid its taxes, the citizens had full liberty to attend to\ntheir own affairs, while the descendants of the original inhabitants\nof the country, as slaves, penestae, performed all the field work and\ndrudgery. Whoever did not know better might have easily believed that\nMethone was a free state.\n\nOn the way to the place of assembly, Polycles followed the least\nfrequented streets. Suddenly he signed to the slaves who accompanied\nhim to keep back and, throwing his arm over Lycon\u2019s shoulder, he said\nto him:\n\n\u201cMy friend, I have important matters to discuss with you to-day! You\nknow that Simonides, in his last will, left me his fortune and his\ndaughter. But, as I am too old to marry a young wife, I want to ask if\nyou are willing to take the girl with a dowry of eighteen talents?\u201d\n\nLycon stopped, but did not utter a word in reply. If the rude statue\nof Poseidon in front of the temple of the god had suddenly descended\nfrom its pedestal and come towards him, he could not have been more\nspeechless with bewilderment.\n\n\u201cThat this may be done,\u201d Polycles continued smiling, \u201cI will adopt you\nas a son and make you my heir. True, I should have preferred a suitor\nwho was the girl\u2019s equal in birth, but as she seems to incline to you,\nI will submit to her wish.\u201d\n\nLycon drew a long breath, and passed his huge hand over his face\nseveral times.\n\n\u201cI thank you, Polycles,\u201d he said at last, \u201cI thank you from my heart!\nBut how is this to be? I am a freedman, it is true; but you forget....\u201d\n\n\u201cI forget nothing,\u201d answered Polycles. \u201cBut one thing you must\nknow--the citizens must hear the whole story ... your condition of\nslave, your sin, and the punishment whose mark you bear. In a little\nplace like Methone nothing can be hidden, so it is better to confess\neverything yourself rather than have it discovered by others. Besides,\nmatters relating to inheritance, marriage, and other kindred affairs\nare often discussed in our popular assemblies. Here, where all the\ncitizens know each other, no distinction is made between public and\nprivate business.\u201d\n\nIn front of the theatre the city police were busily engaged in urging\non the groups of gossiping, laughing citizens by threatening to mark\nthem with ropes covered with red paint. These ropes left ugly stains on\nmantles, and the people therefore tried to avoid them.\n\nBut the largest crowd outside of the theatre was not disturbed by the\npolice. It consisted of slaves waiting for the close of the assembly to\nattend their masters to the market, baths, or gymnasium. These slaves\nwere no less merry than the citizens. Their attention was specially\ndirected to the flat roofs of the nearest houses, where a group of\nyoung slave-girls were busily sunning rugs and cushions, to get an\nopportunity to see the throngs of men and be seen by them. Signs, not\nalways the most seemly, were sometimes exchanged between the square\nbefore the theatre and the roofs.\n\nAt the entrance the recording clerk objected to admitting Lycon; but\nPolycles patted him on the shoulder, saying: \u201cIf this man isn\u2019t a\ncitizen of Methone, he will soon become one. Let him go in.\u201d\n\nThe interior of the theatre presented a deep, semi-circular recess,\nsurrounded by a mound of earth slanting upward, covered with stone\nbenches, and supported by a thick encircling wall. About the center of\nthe place, between the seats rising around, stood the altar, where, at\nthe moment Polycles and Lycon entered, a priest in a long white robe,\nwith a garland on his hair, was in the act of offering the customary\nsacrifice of purification. When this short ceremony was over the chief\nmagistrate took his seat and a struggle, half jest, half earnest,\nfollowed, for all wanted places in the front row where they could hear\nbest.\n\nThe chief magistrate opened the meeting by relating the misfortunes\nwhich had recently overwhelmed the place. When he spoke of the\nefficient service rendered by the boats during the flood, a smith rose\nin the crowd and in a deep voice shouted:\n\n\u201cLet us not forget the brave Athenian, Lycon. But for him many of us\nwould have perished. It is he who saved us by first unmooring the\nboats.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, the smith is right!\u201d responded many voices, with an\nearnestness which showed that the speakers themselves had been among\nthe number of those rescued.\n\nThe dead and missing had not even one word of remembrance. Human life\nwas of little value in those days. On the other hand, the magistrate\ndid not forget to mention that the lands of the city had suffered very\nlittle damage, almost all of them having been too high to be reached\nby the flood. The shocks of earthquake had caused warm springs, which\npossibly possessed healing powers, to bubble up in many places, and in\nthat case they might become a source of great wealth to the city and\nperhaps render it as much frequented as Aedepsus in Eub\u0153a.\n\nAs exaggerated rumors of the injury sustained by the city had been in\ncirculation, this report was received with joy, and the assembly was\nin the best humor when a tall, thin man, with hollow cheeks and a long\nbeard, stepped forward saying:\n\n\u201cI am a friend of the simple, frugal customs of our ancestors.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s why you go ragged and shoeless,\u201d shouted a youthful voice from\none of the nearest passages between the seats.\n\nThe speaker was a little disconcerted, but recovered his composure.\n\n\u201cI do not favor the new custom of bestowing on any one who does the\nplace a trifling service the high-sounding title of benefactor of the\ncity, and overwhelming him with rewards and marks of distinction. If\nwe keep on so there will soon be as many benefactors as citizens; one\nafter another is not only released from paying taxes, but granted money\nto boot, while the really useful citizens, the instructors of youth and\nthe people....\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is that speaking?\u201d asked a white-bearded old man on the front row\nof seats, holding his hand to his ear to catch the answer:\n\n\u201cThat is the orator, Philopator,\u201d replied the person addressed, with a\nscornful emphasis on the word \u201corator.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe\u2019s also called the man with the mustard face,\u201d added another.\n\nAs these explanations were given to a deaf man, Philopator could not\navoid hearing them. Perceiving that the current of feeling was against\nhim, he continued more rapidly with visible irresolution.\n\n\u201cThe gods forbid that I should envy anybody. No one can feel a deeper\nreverence for actual services, deeds truly great, exploits really\nnoble. But, my friends, is there anything great in saving a few people\nin a boat? That requires neither the sage\u2019s sagacity, the warrior\u2019s\ncourage, nor the sacrifice of self. It is a thing any one can do, the\nignorant as well as the expert.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you ought to have done it, Philopator,\u201d shouted the smith\u2019s deep\nvoice, and as there was something in Philopator\u2019s appearance that\nshowed he had never handled an oar, the interruption caused immoderate\nlaughter.\n\nPhilopator wiped the perspiration from his brow.\n\n\u201cI have never boasted of seamanship,\u201d he replied.\n\nThe words were received with a fresh outbreak of mirth.\n\n\u201cYou have talked enough!\u201d cried a voice.\n\n\u201cWe know what you want to say!\u201d shouted a second.\n\n\u201cBack to your seat!\u201d added a third.\n\nThen, as the luckless orator still remained standing, a terrible tumult\narose and at the same time deafening shouts burst like a gust of wind\nor a sudden tempest over the assembly.\n\nThe wretched Philopator, at whom hundreds of throats were yelling,\nbecame fairly frantic. He turned deadly pale, tore his hair, and ran to\nand fro in the level space as though out of his senses. As his voice\nwould have been lost amid the shouts, he threw himself humbly on his\nknees and extended his arms towards the benches from which echoed the\nmost furious cries. At last the storm subsided and the smith\u2019s deep\nvoice said:\n\n\u201cGo back to your seat, Philopator, that\u2019s the best thing to do.\u201d\n\nThe orator followed the good advice and, trembling from head to foot,\nslunk back to his place, where he cowered making himself as small as\npossible.\n\nPolycles signed to Lycon to seat himself behind the bema, where he was\nconcealed from every one; then he himself stepped forward, apparently\nas calm as when moving among the guests in front of his house.\n\n\u201cFellow citizens,\u201d he said, \u201cI am no professional orator like\nPhilopator yonder, but perhaps you will listen to me, since I wish to\nspeak to you of a man who came to us in an evil time and who, within a\nfew days, has become dear to the whole city.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak, speak!\u201d shouted numerous voices.\n\n\u201cMuch evil and much good can be told of him. I will begin with the\nevil.... You think Lycon is an Athenian--he is not. You think Lycon is\na citizen--he is not that either. He is a freedman, who a little more\nthan a month ago was a slave.\u201d\n\nThis statement was followed by silence so profound that no one would\nhave believed himself to be in the same place and among the same men\nwho a short time before were yelling at Philopator. Amid the breathless\nexpectation of the throng, external surroundings suddenly seemed like\na revelation from another world. The wind was heard sighing through\nthe tree-tops and the swallows twittering in the air. Many on the back\nseats rose and held their hands behind their ears, that they might not\nlose a single word.\n\nPolycles did not spare Lycon, but told the people that his dead friend\nSimonides a few years before had bought a young slave named Zenon, who,\nafter being branded for theft, had fled to Poseidon\u2019s altar. For a long\ntime Zenon had served his new master well; but when he saw a man from\nHypata pay Simonides a large sum of money, he ran away with it during\nthe night.\n\nA movement passed through the assembly, one man muttered to another.\nPolycles foresaw a fresh storm.\n\n\u201cFriends and fellow citizens,\u201d he said in a jesting tone; \u201cwe know each\nother, so I shall not ask you to keep quiet. On the contrary, I will\nbeg you to chatter and yell to your hearts\u2019 content, in order to have\nit over the sooner.\u201d\n\nSome of the men laughed; but most were already too angry to allow\nthemselves to be softened by a jest.\n\n\u201cA branded slave!\u201d cried some.\n\n\u201cAnd we have been permitted to do him honor!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did no one tell us?\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us drive this Zenon out of the city!\u201d\n\n\u201cWe\u2019ll stone him!\u201d\n\n\u201cTruly a fine benefactor to add to the rest of the city\u2019s benefactors!\u201d\nshouted Philopator. But those who sat nearest seized his robe and\nforced him back into his seat. As he made wild gestures with his arms\nand assumed the air of a deeply injured man, the smith turned towards\nhim.\n\n\u201cPhilopator!\u201d\n\nHe merely uttered the man\u2019s name, but in precisely the same tone as if\nhe had been a dog. Philopator made no reply, but shrunk into as small a\nspace in his corner as possible.\n\nAt the sight of this submission, which could only be explained by a\nthorough respect for the smith\u2019s brawny fists, a noisy expression of\nmirth ran through the assembly.\n\nPolycles continued:\n\n\u201cI will now speak of Lycon\u2019s good qualities,\u201d and he related how\nthe latter had been respected as a citizen and popular with all in\nAthens. \u201cWe Methonians,\u201d he added, \u201chave cause to be proud that an\ninsignificant slave from this city was found worthy to associate with\nthe leading men in Athens, so that he was daily seen arm in arm with\nthe rich Timotheus, son of Conon.\u201d\n\nPolycles knew his fellow citizens, the Methonians. If anything could\nflatter their pride, it would be to have one of their own number, and a\npoor slave into the bargain, win favor and affection in Athens.\n\n\u201cEven if the man did once take what belonged to others,\u201d observed a\nfriendly philosopher, \u201cthere may be some good in him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Lycon is really a good man,\u201d replied Polycles, and now related\nhow the latter, who was living so prosperously in Athens, had no sooner\nheard of Simonides\u2019 illness and the slaves\u2019 neglect than he sold\neverything he possessed and came to Methone to restore order in the\nhousehold and obtain his master\u2019s forgiveness.\n\n\u201cThat was a noble act! Yes, by Zeus, a noble act!\u201d shouted many voices.\n\nPolycles then spoke of the flood and, by a clever inspiration,\ndescribed how Philopator, who thought it was so easy to save a few\npeople in a boat, would have behaved. At sight of the gigantic billow\nthat rolled in, threatening to sweep everything away, he would surely\nhave been no less disconcerted than at the storm which had recently\nburst upon him in the assembly. He would have fled at full speed up\nthe street, but would have been overtaken by the water and met his\ndeath with the men in the boats. But how had Lycon behaved? Instead\nof flying before the flood, he had jumped into the nearest boat and,\ninstead of thinking solely of himself, in the midst of the peril had\nremembered others and warned the men in the rest of the boats. \u201cHad it\nnot been for Lycon,\u201d said Polycles, raising his voice, \u201cnot only would\nthirty men in the boats have perished, but a number of free citizens,\nas well as slaves, would have lost their lives in the flooded streets.\nFor, on that day of misfortune, Lycon, with perhaps a score of boats,\nsaved from about twenty flooded houses eighty citizens, men, women and\nchildren, besides more than two hundred and seventy slaves. So great is\nthe number of those who owe their lives to Lycon.\u201d\n\nA deafening tumult of joy arose, a storm of applause, and it was long\nere Polycles could again be heard.\n\n\u201cI think, therefore,\u201d he added, \u201cthat Lycon has some claim--even if\nPhilopator does not consider it--to deserve the name of benefactor of\nthe city.\u201d\n\nJust at that moment a voice from one of the back seats shouted: \u201cWhere\nis Lycon? We want to see him.\u201d\n\nThe cry was instantly taken up by all, and the whole theatre echoed\nwith the call: \u201cWhere is Lycon?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems to me,\u201d said Polycles, smiling, \u201cthat the very men who a\nshort time ago wanted to drive Lycon out of the city and stone him, are\nnow shouting the loudest.\u201d\n\nThese words roused much noisy hilarity. The worthy Methonians could\nnot help laughing themselves at the ease with which they passed from\none extreme to the other.\n\n\u201cAs I knew you would want to see Lycon,\u201d Polycles added, \u201cI have, with\nthe chief magistrate\u2019s permission, brought him with me.\u201d He beckoned to\nLycon and the latter, pale with emotion but apparently calm, now came\nforward before the rampart of human faces formed by the seats towering\nbefore him.\n\nAt the sight of Lycon\u2019s frank, good-natured face and powerful form, a\nnew and long continued storm of applause arose.\n\n\u201cDear friends and fellow citizens,\u201d Polycles began again, \u201cI will\npropose to you to reward this man in a way that will bring no great\nexpense upon the city and yet, perhaps, best suit his own wishes.\nSimonides, as you know, bequeathed me his fortune with his daughter.\nBut, as I am too old to take a young wife and the girl has a fancy for\nLycon, I thought of giving her to him in marriage, by which he will\ncome into possession of the greater part of her property. But, to do\nthis, you must make him a citizen; then I will adopt him as a son and\nname him my heir, that he may become a proper suitor. But to prevent\nany one in future from taunting Lycon with having been a branded slave,\nI propose to you that as a public reward, you bestow upon him exemption\nfrom taxes and a free maintenance in the Prytaneium.\n\n\u201cLastly, let there be hung in the temple of Poseidon a tablet bearing\na representation of Lycon\u2019s deed at the time of the flood and a short\naccount of his life, in which it should be stated that he had been a\nbranded slave. Coming generations could then read there that the city\nof Methone did her duty even to the most insignificant person. This,\ndear fellow citizens, is my proposal concerning Lycon. If any one has a\nbetter plan to suggest, I will gladly recall it.\u201d\n\nThe rope-maker, Socles, rose. He was a small, stout man, with big,\nprominent eyes and a wide half open mouth, which gave him an extremely\nfoolish air.\n\n\u201cI can vote for no reward to this Lycon,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause, by Zeus, he seems to me one of the most foolish of men!...\nIf he was living so merrily and contentedly at Athens as is said, why\ndoesn\u2019t he stay there? What does he want here of us?\u201d\n\nLycon laughed and asked:\n\n\u201cOf what city is this man a native?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf Ch\u00e6roneia.\u201d\n\n\u201cAha!\u201d exclaimed Lycon laughing, \u201cI thought the man who reproached me\nfor my return to Methone, the only good deed I ever performed, must be\na--B\u0153otian!\u201d\n\nSocles did not know what to answer and, seeing him stand there with\nhis mouth wide open, an image of B\u0153otian stupidity, the whole assembly\nburst into a roar of laughter, so scornful, noisy, deafening in its\nmirth, that it seemed as if every stone in the theatre was laughing.\n\nSocles stood for a moment as though paralyzed with bewilderment.\nThen, wrapping his mantle around him, he started with crimson face for\nthe nearest entrance, slipping through the crowd, striding over empty\nplaces in the stone benches, and forcing his way through the groups\nin the passages. It was done so quickly that it looked as if the fat\nlittle man was blown away over the seats by the unbridled laughter of\nthe throng.\n\n\u201cWhy, why, how he jumps!\u201d shouted the smith, shaking with glee as,\nfairly convulsed with merriment, he loudly slapped his thigh.\n\n\u201cLycon has made Socles a deer!\u201d cried a second voice.\n\n\u201cHe skips like a discus behind the mark!\u201d added a third.\n\nWhen silence was partially restored, the chief magistrate put Polycles\u2019\nproposal to vote. All raised their hands except Philopator. But when\nthe smith, who still kept an eye on him, cleared his throat loudly and\nlooked askance at him, Philopator\u2019s hand also rose, though slowly and\nreluctantly.\n\nThe chief magistrate, a white-haired old man of venerable aspect,\nembraced Lycon in the presence of the whole assembly and said to him in\na tone so loud and distinct that amid the deep silence it was heard in\nthe most distant seats:\n\n\u201cYou are now a citizen of Methone and a guest of the Prytaneium. May\nyou have happiness and prosperity.\u201d\n\n\nXIII.\n\nThe next day Polycles sent by a trustworthy messenger a letter to the\nship-owner in Athens who had been the demarch of Lycon\u2019s district. The\nwine-dealer knew him, for the latter had visited Methone more than once\nin his ship. Ten days after the answer came, stating that if Lycon\nwould pay a fine of ten minae his name would be erased from the list of\ncitizens, thereby avoiding any legal prosecution.\n\nAt this message Lycon drew a deep breath, like a man who has reached\ndry land after fighting a long time for his life among the waves.\n\n\u201cThe gods be praised!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cNow, for the first time, I can\nuse my liberty as a thing which belongs to me, and which no man has a\nright to take away.\u201d\n\nMyrtale embraced Polycles, and said with her brightest smile:\n\n\u201cSo you, too, are a benefactor! Have you not saved the city\u2019s deliverer\nfrom becoming a slave in a strange place?\u201d\n\nA few days after Lycon, attended by Conops, made an excursion to the\nneighboring city of Ormenium, the place where he had been a slave\nbefore he fled to Poseidon\u2019s altar in Methone. In Ormenium he visited\nhis former master, a physician, and remained a long time with him.\nOn his departure the physician accompanied him part of the way to\nMethone and, as they took leave of each other, he asked Lycon if he\nwas serious in the request he had made him. When Lycon answered in the\naffirmative, the doctor laughed and shook his head as though it was\nvery extraordinary. \u201cTake it then,\u201d he said, handing him something\nwrapped in cloth, which Lycon carefully concealed in the folds of his\nrobe.\n\nAfter having been elected a citizen of Methone, Lycon had gone to live\nin the house in the Street of the Bakers. Much of the furniture had\nbeen ruined by the flood so, with the help of Myrtale\u2019s nurse, he was\nobliged to provide the women\u2019s apartment with many things ere a bride\ncould be received and a new household established.\n\nOne day, early in the morning, the old mansion was adorned with\ngarlands and the door, especially, was decked and surrounded with ropes\nof flowers decorated with tassels of blossoms. Polycles\u2019 house, the\nbride\u2019s present home, was ornamented in the same way.\n\nDarkness had scarcely closed in, when the roll of wheels and the hum\nof many voices were heard outside of the door of the latter dwelling.\nAccompanied by a numerous train, a chariot drawn by white mules stopped\nbefore the door, ready to bear the bride home. Lycon and his chosen\nbridesman, Polycles, entered the house and received from the hand of\nan elderly female relative the closely-veiled bride to conduct her to\nthe chariot, where each took a seat beside the muffled figure.\n\nThe nuptial torches were lighted, and the procession started. The\nflames cast their red glare over the magnificent holiday robes; the\nflutes sounded, and the hymeneal hymns echoed far through the stillness\nof the evening.\n\nThe inhabitants had all gathered outside the doors of their houses,\nand within the dusky vestibules appeared the heads of male and female\nslaves. All who were passing stopped and greeted the procession with\nthe words: \u201cHappiness and prosperity!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow peaceful and beautiful it is here,\u201d whispered Lycon to his bride.\n\u201cIn Athens, on the contrary, on such an evening there is more noise and\nbustle than usual. Every bridal procession is surrounded by beggars,\ncarrying tame crows in their hands.\u201d\n\n\u201cCrows?\u201d repeated Myrtale in surprise.\n\n\u201cIt is really so,\u201d replied Lycon, smiling. \u201cAmong the Athenians the\ncrow is the bird sacred to bridals, and when a beggar carries one in\nhis hand no one can forbid him to follow the procession into the house,\nto sing the ancient vulgar crow-song and then make himself at home.\u201d\n\nOn reaching home the wedded pair, according to custom, were overwhelmed\nwith a shower of little cakes, figs, dried grapes, and small\ncoins--emblematical of the prosperity to be expected.\n\nThe festal hall was lighted by tripods bearing numerous lamps; on one\nside stood tables for the men, on the other for the women. Among the\nguests were the old chief magistrate who had presided at the popular\nassembly, the citizens who had been on the most intimate terms with\nSimonides, and some of the female relatives of the bride. Young slaves\nin new garments, with purple fillets around their hair, placed between\nthe couches little tables bearing favorite dishes.\n\nWhen the wedding cakes were eaten it was nearly midnight. The oldest\nfemale relative now led the young couple across the peristyle to the\nquiet sleeping room. All the guests followed, and the nuptial hymn was\nsung once more outside of the closed door. But when the last visitor\nhad gone and the porter closed the heavy house-door with a noise that\nechoed through the peristyle, Lycon clasped Myrtale\u2019s hand, saying:\n\n\u201cThat noise is dearer to me than the notes of the nuptial hymn. Now we\nare alone; now I have you forever.\u201d\n\nHe drew her towards him and his lips sought hers, but Myrtale, reared\nin the seclusion of the virgin-chamber, had never been alone with any\nman, and blushing deeply, averted her face.\n\nLycon took the clay lamp, shaped like a couch on which lay a sleeping\nEros, and pointing to the little god, said:\n\n\u201cThe love that fills my breast will never slumber until my hair is\nwhite and my back bowed with age. It would be an evil omen if I let\nthis lamp burn on our bridal night. Neither now nor in the future\nshall it shine for us.\u201d\n\nWith these words, he flung it down so that it was broken in the fall\nand lay shattered on the tiled floor.\n\nIn the intense darkness which had surrounded them, he drew Myrtale to\nhis breast. His heart throbbed as it never had before, and the gloom\nseemed filled with little dancing flames like those of the broken lamp.\nWith the perfume from Myrtale\u2019s hair, he felt as if he were breathing\nan atmosphere of warm, ardent youth, and in the silence which Eros\ncommands his mouth again sought the small, fresh lips.\n\nThis time Myrtale did not avert her face.\n\n\nXIV.\n\nTime passes swiftly to the happy; ere they realized it a year had gone\nby.\n\nOne day every door in the house was adorned with an olive garland--a\nson had been born to its owner. Lycon said that the child should be\nreared. The father was at liberty to expose or even kill it.\n\nThe infant was carried by the midwife around the blazing household\naltar. Parents, relatives, and even slaves gave it a multitude of\npresents, principally platagai, children\u2019s rattles.\n\nAt the great sacrificial banquet on the tenth day after the boy\u2019s\nbirth, Lycon, to Myrtale\u2019s delight, named the child Simonides.\n\nLycon took pride in enlarging his dead master\u2019s business, but never\ncommenced any great enterprise without having consulted the clever and\nexperienced Polycles. On the day that the latter completed his sixtieth\nyear, Lycon, to his great joy, gave him the vineyard which, in his\nopinion, produced the best wine in Thessaly.\n\nThis present had cost Lycon more than Polycles ever knew. When he first\nspoke of it to Myrtale, she eagerly opposed the plan and made many\nobjections.\n\n\u201cPolycles is rich enough,\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cBut not too rich to have this gift please him.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a man\u2019s duty to bequeath what he possesses to his children.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is also a man\u2019s duty to show his gratitude to one who has done him\nmany kindnesses and helped make him prosperous.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you will give Polycles the vineyard?\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall.\u201d\n\n\u201cEven against my wish?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget, dear one, that but for Polycles I should have had nothing.\u201d\n\nThe blood rushed into Myrtale\u2019s cheeks and her eyes flashed.\n\n\u201cAnd you forget,\u201d she said, \u201cthat everything you possess is mine.\u201d\n\nThe words had scarcely escaped her lips ere she regretted them.\n\nLycon passed his huge hand over his face, rose, and left her.\n\nMyrtale stole after him. She saw him cross the peristyle and enter a\nlittle room where part of the furniture was kept. Through the door,\nwhich stood ajar, she watched him open a box and take out something\nwrapped in cloth. But, as she cautiously pushed the door in order to\nsee better, her shadow fell on Lycon\u2019s arm and he turned.\n\n\u201cWhat have you there?\u201d asked Myrtale, slightly confused at being\ndiscovered.\n\n\u201cWhat is mine--it belongs to no one else.\u201d\n\nMyrtale understood the reproof. Her eyes filled with tears as she sank\nat Lycon\u2019s feet and clasped his knees.\n\n\u201cForgive me,\u201d she whispered humbly, \u201cforget my wicked words.\u201d\n\n\u201cForget them--I cannot. But I will treat you as if you had never\nuttered them.\u201d\n\nMyrtale still remained on her knees; Lycon raised her and she pressed\nher lips upon his shoulder.\n\n\u201cWhat have you there?\u201d she timidly repeated.\n\n\u201cA peacemaker. The image of a good spirit.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me see it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Lycon, wrapping the cloth closer. \u201cIf any one else should\nlook at the image it would lose its power. So promise me that you will\nnever,--either now or in future--ask to see it.\u201d\n\nMyrtale pointed to an ivory couch which stood in the little room; Lycon\nreclined upon it, and she took her seat on the edge at his side.\n\n\u201cWhat harm would it do if I, your wife, should see it?\u201d she whispered\ncoaxingly, putting her arm around Lycon\u2019s neck.\n\n\u201cI have told you,\u201d replied Lycon. \u201cDo what I ask.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then,\u201d murmured Myrtale sighing, \u201cI promise.\u201d\n\nBut at the same moment she turned pale, as if she felt a sudden chill.\n\n\u201cConfess!\u201d she cried in a strangely altered tone. \u201cIt is the picture of\nan Athenian woman.\u201d\n\nLycon shrank from the fierce expression of her face and, ere he could\nprevent it, she had seized the little article which he had laid on the\nedge of the couch in front of her.\n\nShe tore off the cloth with her teeth. A clumsy square bit of iron\nappeared. She turned and twisted it in her hands until, on one end, she\ndiscovered the letter K formed of three raised lines.\n\nIt was the stamp of the brand Lycon bore on his shoulder.\n\nMyrtale instantly understood why he kept the rough bit of iron. To him,\nas he had said, it was the image of a good spirit.\n\nBy keeping this sign of his humiliation, he not only crushed all\narrogance, but learned to judge mildly, govern himself, and become a\nbetter man. By remembering that he had been a slave, he made others\nforget it.\n\nMyrtale felt a new emotion. Her heart swelled with affection, and\nthrowing herself into her husband\u2019s arms, she covered his face with\ntears and kisses.\n\n\u201cThe gods be praised for what has happened!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cTo-day you\nhave become doubly dear to me! For the first time I know you wholly.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLycon and Myrtale filled the place of children to the lonely Polycles,\nand he was never happier than when they visited him in the quiet\nevening hours.\n\nThe hillock in the garden, which had been Simonides\u2019 favorite spot and\nwhere his monument stood, was the goal of their walks, and when they\nhad offered their homage to the dead man by adorning his grave with\nflowers, they sat down on a bench among a group of tall plane-trees to\ngaze over the city and country.\n\nOne evening, when the distant, sun-illumined mountains of Pherae were\ngleaming more brightly than ever through the twilight, Lycon exclaimed:\n\n\u201cSimonides was right! Where is there a spot more beautiful than this?\u201d\n\nMyrtale looked him in the face and suddenly asked:\n\n\u201cDo you never wish yourself back in Athens?\u201d\n\nPolycles raised his eyebrows. In his opinion this was evidently a\nvery difficult question. But Lycon found the answer easy. Clasping\nMyrtale\u2019s hand, he said:\n\n\u201cHow can you ask? In Athens I was gay; here I am happy.\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nADVERTISEMENTS\n\n_WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER\u2019S_ LIST OF PUBLICATIONS.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n_TRANSLATIONS._\n\n\nSPANISH AUTHORS.\n\n  ENRIQUE PEREZ ESCRICH.\n\n  =The Martyr of Golgotha=, from the Spanish by Ad\u00e8le Josephine Godoy,\n      two vols., paper, $1.00, Cloth, $1.75 per set.\n\n  B. PEREZ GALD\u00d3S.\n\n  =Gloria=, from the Spanish by Clara Bell, two vols. paper, $1.00,\n      cloth, $1.75 per set.\n\n  =Leon Roch=, from the Spanish by Clara Bell, two volumes, paper,\n      $1.00. Cloth, $1.75.\n\n  =Marianela=, from the Spanish by Clara Bell, one vol. paper, 50 cts.\n      cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =Trafalgar=, from the Spanish by Clara Bell, one vol. paper, 50 cts.\n      cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =The Court of Charles IV.=, from the Spanish by Clara Bell, one vol.,\n      paper, 50 cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n\nFRENCH.\n\n  Mme. SOPHIE COTTIN.\n\n  =Elizabeth=, or the Exiles of Siberia, from the French, one vol.\n      paper, 25 cts., cloth, 50 cts.\n\n  =Matilda=, Princess of England, from the French by Jennie W. Raum,\n      two vols. paper, $1.00, cloth, $1.75 per set.\n\n  Mme. AUGUSTUS CRAVEN.\n\n  =Eliane=, from the French by Lady Georgiana Fullerton, one vol.\n      paper, 50 cents, cloth, 90 cents.\n\n  OCTAVE FEUILLET.\n\n  =A Romance of a Poor Young Man=, from the French by J.\u00a0H. Hagar, one\n      vol. paper, 50 cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  LE\u00cfLA-HANOUM\n\n  =A Tragedy at Constantinople=, from the French by Gen. R.\u00a0E.\n      Colston, one vol. paper, 50 cts.. cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  PIERRE-LOTI.\n\n  =From Lands of Exile=, from the French by Clara Bell, one vol.,\n      paper, 50 cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  BERNARDIN DE SAINT-PIERRE.\n\n  =Paul and Virginia=, from the French by Clara Bell, one vol., paper,\n      25 cts., cloth, 50 cts.\n\n\nITALIAN.\n\n  ANTON GIULIO BARRILI.\n\n  =The Devil\u2019s Portrait=, from the Italian by Evelyn Wodehouse, one\n      vol. paper, 40 cts., cloth, 75 cts.\n\n  =The Eleventh Commandment=, from the Italian by Clara Bell, one vol.\n      paper, 50 cts. cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =A Whimsical Wooing=, from the Italian by Clara Bell, one vol.\n      paper, 25 cts., cloth, 50 cts.\n\n  LA MARCHESA COLOMBI.\n\n  =The Wane of an Ideal=, from the Italian by Clara Bell, one vol.\n      paper, 50 cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n\nRUSSIAN.\n\n  COUNT LEON TOLSTO\u00cf.\n\n  =War and Peace=, translated into French by a Russian Lady, and from\n      the French by Clara Bell. Authorized Edition. Complete in Three\n      Parts. Paper, $3.00. Cloth, $5.25. Half calf, $12.00.\n\n  Part I, BEFORE TILSIT, 1805-1807, in two vols, paper, $1.00, cloth,\n      $1.75.\n\n  Part II, THE INVASION, 1807-1812, in two vols, paper, $1.00, cloth,\n      $1.75.\n\n  Part III, BORODINO, the French at Moscow, 1812-1820, in two vols,\n      paper, $1.00. cloth, $1.75.\n\n=Katia=, from the French. Authorized edition. one volume, paper, 25\ncts. cloth, 50 cts.\n\n=The Cossacks=, a tale of the Caucasus in 1852 from the Russian by\nEugene Schuyler. one vol., paper, 50 cts. cloth, $1.00.\n\n=What I Believe=, from the Russian by Constantine Popoff, one volume\n12mo., paper, 60 cents, cloth, $1.00.\n\n\nDUTCH.\n\n  CARL VOSMAER.\n\n  =The Amazon=, from the Dutch by E.\u00a0J. Irving, one vol. paper, 40 cts.\n      cloth, 75 cts.\n\n\nDANISH.\n\n  PETER MARIAGER.\n\n  =Pictures of Hellas=, five tales of ancient Greece, from the Danish\n      by Mary J. Safford. Illustrated, one vol., 16mo paper, 50 cts.,\n      12mo cloth, $1.00.\n\n\nTURKISH.\n\n  =The Story of Jewad=, a Romance by \u2018Al\u00ee \u2018Az\u012bz Efendi, the Cretan,\n      translated from the Turkish by E.\u00a0J.\u00a0W. Gibb, M.R.A.S. _Membre\n      de la Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 Asiatique de Paris_. 12mo. paper, 60 cents, Cloth,\n      $1.00.\n\n\nGERMAN.\n\n  FELIX DAHN.\n\n  =Felicitas=, from the German by Mary J. Safford, one vol. paper, 50\n      cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =The Ebers Gallery=, a collection of paintings, illustrating the\n      romances of Georg Ebers, one vol. Folio, sheets in neat case,\n      $22.50., half mor. gilt edges, $40.00, full mor. $50 00.\n\n  GEORG EBERS.\n\n  =An Egyptian Princess=, from the German by Eleanor Grove; revised\n      edition, two vols. paper, 80 cts., cloth, $1.50.\n\n  =A Question=, from the German by Mary J. Safford; authorized\n      edition, one vol. paper, 40 cts. cloth, 75 cts.\n\n  =A Word, Only a Word=, from the German by Mary J. Safford, one vol.,\n      paper, 50 cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =Homo Sum=, from the German by Clara Bell; authorized edition, one\n      vol. paper, 40 cts., cloth, 75 cts.\n\n  =Serapis=, from the German by Clara Bell; authorized edition, one\n      vol. paper, 50 cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =The Bride of the Nile=, from the German by Clara Bell; authorized\n      edition, two vols., paper, $1.00, cloth, $1.75.\n\n  =The Burgomaster\u2019s Wife=, from the German by Mary J. Safford, one\n      vol. paper, 50, cloth, 75 cts.\n\n  =The Emperor=, from the German, by Clara Bell; authorized edition,\n      two vols. paper, 80 cts., cloth, $1.50 per set.\n\n  =The Sisters=, from the German by Clara Bell; authorized edition, one\n      vol., pa. 40 cts., cl. 75 cts.\n\n  =Uarda=, from the German by Clara Bell; authorized edition, revised,\n      corrected, and enlarged from the latest German edition, two vols.\n      paper, 80 cts., cloth, $1.50.\n\n  =Lorenz Alma Tadema=, his Life and Works, from the German by Mary J.\n      Safford, one vol. paper, 40 cts., cloth, 75 cts.\n\n  =Richard Lepsius=, a biography, from the German by Zoe Dana\n      Underhill, one vol. 12mo, paper, 60 cts., cloth, $1.25.\n\n  =Ebers\u2019 Romances=, 14 vols. cloth in box, $11.00, half calf extra, in\n      neat case, $28.00.\n\n  =Ebers\u2019 Romances and Biographies=, 16 vols., cloth, in box, $13.00,\n      half calf, extra, in neat case, $32.00.\n\n  ERNST ECKSTEIN.\n\n  =Aphrodite=, from the German, by Mary J. Safford, one vol. paper, 50\n      cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =Prusias=, from the German by Clara Bell, two vols. paper, $1.00,\n      cloth, $1.75 per set.\n\n  =Quintus Claudius=, from the German by Clara Bell, two vols. paper,\n      $1.00, cloth, 1.75 per set.\n\n  =The Chaldean Magician=, from the German, by Mary J. Safford, one\n      vol., pa. 25 cts., cl. 50 cts.\n\n  =The Will=, from the German by Clara Bell, two vols. paper, $1.00,\n      cloth, $1.75 per set.\n\n  ROBERT HAMERLING.\n\n  =Aspasia=, from the German by Mary J. Safford, two vols. paper,\n      $1.00, cloth, $1.75 per set.\n\n  W. VON HILLERN.\n\n  =A Graveyard Flower=, from the German by Clara Bell, one vol. paper,\n      40 cts., cloth, 75 cts.\n\n  =Ernestine=, from the German by S. Baring Gould, two vols. paper, 80\n      cts., cloth, $1.50 per set.\n\n  =Higher Than The Church=, from the German, by Mary J. Safford, one\n      vol. paper, 25 cts. cloth, 50 cts.\n\n  =The Hour Will Come=, from the German, by Clara Bell, one vol. paper,\n      40 cts., cloth, 75 cts.\n\n  OSSIP SCHUBIN.\n\n  =Our Own Set=, from the German by Clara Bell, one vol. paper, 50\n      cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =Gloria Victis=, from the German, by Mary Maxwell, one vol., paper,\n      50 cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  ADOLF WILBRANDT.\n\n  =Fridolin\u2019s mystical Marriage=, from the German, by Clara Bell, one\n      vol. paper, 50cts cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  GEORGE TAYLOR.\n\n  =Antinous=, from the German by Mary J. Safford, one vol. paper, 50\n      cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  =Clytia=, from the German by Mary J. Safford, one vol. paper, 50cts.\n      cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  WILHELM WALLOTH.\n\n  =The King\u2019s Treasure House=, from the German by Mary J. Safford, one\n      vol. paper, 50 cts., cloth. 90 cts.\n\n\nMISCELLANEOUS.\n\n  ROSE TERRY COOKE.\n\n  =Poems=, new and enlarged edition, one vol., 12mo cloth, $1.50.\n\n  LADY CUST.\n\n  =The Invalid\u2019s Own Book=, a Collection of Recipes from various books\n      and various countries. One vol., paper, 25 cts. Cloth, 60 cts.\n\n  A.\u00a0M. GIBSON.\n\n  =A Political Crime=, The History of the Great Fraud, one vol., 12mo.\n      cloth, price $1.50, Gilt Top uncut, $1.65.\n\n  S. REYNOLDS HOLE.\n\n  =A Book About Roses.= How to grow and show them! one vol. paper, 50\n      cts., cloth, 90 cts.\n\n  A. RAMOS DIAS deVILLEGAS.\n\n  =A Practical method for Learning Spanish=, one vol. 12mo. cloth,\n      price 75 cts.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  =Henry Irving=, a short account of his public life. Paper, with\n      frontispiece, 50 cts., cloth, with four illustrations, $1.25.\n\n  G.\u00a0H. LEWES.\n\n  =Ranthorpe=, one vol. paper. 40 cts. cloth, 75 cts.\n\n  OTTO KUPHAL, PH. D.\n\n  =A method for the Idiomatic Study of German.=\n\n      Part One, Lessons, Exercises, and Vocabulary, large, 12mo., 536\n      pages. Price $2.25.\n\n      Part Two, Notes. [In Press.]\n\n  GEORGE E. RAUM.\n\n  =A Tour Around the World=. one vol. 12mo., Cloth Gilt Sides, $1.50.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  =Locomotives and Locomotive Building=, being a brief sketch of the\n      growth of the Railroad system and of the various Improvements in\n      Locomotive Building in America, together with a History of the\n      Origin and Growth of the Rogers Locomotive and Machine Works.\n      Paterson, N.\u00a0J., from 1831 to 1886. Illustrated, one volume,\n      octavo, Cloth, $2.00.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s Notes\n\n\nThe punctuation in this book was unusually inconsistent. Transcriber\nhas attempted to correct the more obvious errors, particularly with\nregard to the omission of quotation marks, but there were too many to\ndocument individually.\n\nSimple spelling errors were corrected.\n\nAmbiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained; occurrences of\ninconsistent hyphenation have not been changed.\n\nPage 134: \u201cMuseium\u201d was printed that way.","title":"Pictures of Hellas: Five Tales of Ancient Greece","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":75256}