'^
 
 Pictures of Hellas 
 
 FIVE TALES OF ANCIENT GREECE 
 
 BY 
 
 PEDER MARIAGER 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH 
 
 IIY 
 
 MARY J. SAFFORD 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 "WILLIAM S. GOTTSBEIiGEK, PUBLISHER 
 
 I I MURRAY STREET
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1888 
 
 By WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington
 
 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 The author's preface to " Pictures of Hellas " is 
 so full, that the translator has nothing to add to the 
 English version except the acknowledgment of valu- 
 able assistance rendered in " the obscure recesses of 
 Greek literature " by Professor Andrews, Ph. D. of 
 Madison University. 
 
 Mary J. Safford.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Nearly all the more recent romances and dramas, 
 whose scene is laid in classic times, depict the period 
 of the great rupture between Paganism and Christi- 
 anity. This is true of " Hypatia," " Fabiola," " The 
 Last Days of Pompeii," " The Epicureans," " The Em- 
 peror and The Galilean," " The Last Athenian, " and 
 many other works. The cause of this coincidence is 
 not difficult to understand; for a period containing 
 such strong contrasts invites aesthetic treatment. 
 
 The present tales derive their material from a 
 different, but no less interesting epoch. They give 
 pictures of the flowering of Hellas, the distant centuries 
 whose marvellous culture rested solely on the purely 
 human elements of character as developed beneath a 
 mild and radiant sky. 
 
 Yet it required a certain degree of persistence to 
 procure this material. When we examine the Greek 
 writers to find descriptions of the men of those times 
 or the special characteristics of the social life of the 
 period, Greek literature, so rich in accounts of histori- 
 cal events, becomes strangely laconic, nay almost 
 silent. 
 
 How entirely different is the situation of a person
 
 II PREFACE. 
 
 who desires to sketch a picture of the Frenchmen of 
 the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries. The whole col- 
 lection of memoirs is at his disposal. In these writ- 
 ings the author discourses familiarly with the reader, 
 gives him lifelike portraits of the ladies and gentlemen 
 of the court, and tells him the most minute anecdotes 
 of the society of that day. 
 
 Greek literature has nothing of this kind. The de- 
 scription of common events and the history of daily ex- 
 istence are forms of writing of later origin, nothing was 
 farther from the minds of ancient authors than the idea 
 that private life could contain anything worth noting. 
 Herodotus and Thucydides narrated little or nothing of 
 what the novelists of the present day seek, nay, even 
 among the orators only scattered details are found, and 
 strangely enough there are more in the speeches of 
 Lysias than of Demosthenes. 
 
 Among the poets Aristophanes produces a whole 
 gallery of contemporary characters, but indistinctly and 
 in vague outlines; they were what would now be 
 called " originals from the street " who, during the per- 
 formance of his comedies, sat among the spectators, and 
 whom he only needed to mention to evoke the laugh- 
 ter of the crowd. Something more may be gathered 
 from Lucian and Apuleius, together with the better 
 " Milesian " tales, especially from Heliodorus and 
 Achilles Tatius while, on the contrary, the great Alex- 
 andrian lumber-room, owed to Athenaeus, contains 
 more gewgaws of learning and curiosa than really 
 marked characteristics.
 
 PREFACE. Ill 
 
 In the obscure recesses of Greek literature, where 
 we are abandoned by all translators, and where — as 
 everybody knows who has devoted himself to the inter- 
 pretation of the classics — only short, excursions can be 
 made, we are sometimes surprised at finding, by pure 
 accident, useful matter. Dion Chrysostomus (VII) 
 gives extremely interesting descriptions of Hfe in the 
 Greek villages and commercial towns. But what is 
 discovered is always so scattered that only a few notes 
 can be obtained from numerous volumes. 
 
 When I decided to turn what I had read to ac- 
 count, I was fully aware that a presentation of ancient 
 life in the form of a romance or novel was one of the 
 most difficult aesthetic tasks which could be under- 
 taken. If, nevertheless, I devoted myself to it, I 
 naturally regarded the work only as an experiment. 
 
 In choosing the narrow frame-work of short stories I 
 set before myself this purpose — to sketch the ordinary 
 figures of ancient life on a historical background. I 
 have — resting step by step on the classic writers — en- 
 deavored to present some pictures of ancient times; 
 but I have no more desired to exalt former ages at the 
 expense of our own than the contrary. As to the mode 
 of treatment — I have steadily intended to keep the 
 representations objective, and to avoid using foreign 
 words or giving the dialogues a form so ancient 
 that they would not be easy to read. * The stiff 
 
 *So far as the idiomatic differences of the two languages would 
 permit, the translator has endeavored to retain the simplicity of style 
 deemed by the author best suited to his purpose.
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 classic ceremonies, foot-washings, etc., I have almost 
 entirely omitted, and the archaeological and historical 
 details have everywhere been subordinated to the con- 
 tents of the story, so that they merely serve to give an 
 antique coloring to the descriptions. Lastly, I have 
 believed that the Greek characters ought to be com- 
 pletely banished from the book, and even from the 
 notes and preface. 
 
 After these general remarks I must be permitted to 
 dwell briefly upon the different tales, partly to point 
 out the authority for such or such a stroke and partly 
 to give some few more detailed explanations. 
 
 Little is known of the Pelasgian epoch ; but it is a 
 historical fact that a woman was abducted at the foun- 
 tain of Callirrhoe. On this incident the first story 
 " Zeus Hypsistos " is founded, and the climax of Peri- 
 phas' death is based upon an ancient idea : a voice of 
 fate. The belief in Phemai or Cledones is older than 
 in that of most oracles, and dates back to the days of 
 Homer. When Ulysses is wandering about, ponder- 
 ing over the thought of killing the suitors, he prays to 
 Zeus for a sign and omen, a voice of fate, which then 
 sounds in a thunder-clap and, inside of the house, he 
 hears a slave-girl wishing evil to the suitors. The old 
 demi-god Cychreus of Salamis is mentioned by Pau- 
 sanias (I. t,6). It was a universal idea in ancient times 
 that demi-gods liked to transform themselves into ser- 
 pents. In the battle of Salamis a serpent appeared in 
 the Athenian fleet; the oracle declared that it was the 
 ancient demi-god Cychreus. In Eleusis Demeter had
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 a serpent called the Cychrean, for Cychreus, who had 
 either slain it or himself assumed its form. For the re- 
 markable ceremonial of purification after a murder 
 (page 58), see Apollonius' Argonautica (IV. 702). 
 The words : " Zeus was, Zeus is, and Zeus will be " are 
 borrowed from the ancient hymn sung by the Dodo- 
 nian priestesses, called Peleiades (doves.) 
 
 In "The Sycophant" the notes cited on pages 72- 
 73 would be valueless, if they did not contain the 
 punishments which, according to Attic law, were 
 appointed for the transgressions named. 
 
 Hetaeriae was the name given to secret societies 
 or fraternities, where six, seven, or more members 
 united to work against or break down the increasing 
 power of the popular government, which was exerting 
 a more and more unendurable pressure. There were 
 many kinds of " hetaeriae^' but the most absolute secrecy 
 was common to all. The members were conspirators, 
 pledged to assist one another by a solemn oath, sworn 
 by what was dearest to them in life. The harmless 
 hetaeriae comprised those who were pursuing no politi- 
 cal object, but merely consisted of office-seekers whose 
 purpose was to aid one another in the election to office 
 or before the courts of justice. The hetaeria here de- 
 scribed is of the latter sort; for the delineation of a po- 
 litical society of this kind would reciuire a far more ex- 
 tensive apparatus than could l)e contained within the 
 brief limits of a tale. Several of the characters in 
 " The Hetaeria " have actually existed. The comedian 
 Sthenelus is mentioned by Aristophanes [vesp. 1313) as
 
 Vf PREFACE. 
 
 well as the orator and tragedian Acestor {vesp. 1220; 
 aves 31) both are sketched from the more minute de- 
 tails of the Scohastae. Phanus is also mentioned by 
 Aristophanes (eqiiit. 1233) as Cleon's clerk. Among 
 the women of the tale there is also an historical 
 personage, the foreign witch Ninus, who professed to 
 be a priestess of the Phrygian god Sabazius. She trav- 
 elled through Hellas at the time of the Peloponnesian 
 War and reaped a rich harvest by her divination and 
 manufacture of love potions; but her end was tragical — 
 she was summoned before the courts as a poisoner and 
 condemned to death (A. Schaefer, Demosth. I. 199). 
 The main outlines of the relations between Hipyllos 
 and Cleobule are taken from the commencement of 
 Cnemon's story in Heliodorus (I. 2) and the descrip- 
 tion of Sthenelus' fall from the boards is almost literally 
 repeated from Lucian (The Dream, 26). The account 
 of the naval battle at Rhion is an extract from Thucy- 
 dides (II. 86-92). 
 
 " Too Happy " is founded upon an ancient idea : 
 the prayer for a sign and the acceptance of an omen. 
 Piracy, which plays a prominent part in the narrative, 
 was practised at an early period in the ^gean Sea and 
 afterwards attained such dangerous extent that large 
 and magnificent fleets of pirate cruisers finally threat- 
 ened Rome herself with intercepting the importations 
 of grain from Pontus. It might perhaps be considered 
 too romantic for a disguised corsair to examine the ship 
 lying in port before plundering her in the open sea. 
 Quite different things, however, are reported. The
 
 PREFACE. VII 
 
 Phoenician pirates had secret agents who discovered 
 where a ship with a rich cargo lay and promised the 
 helmsman " ten-fold freight money," if he would anchor 
 in some secluded place, behind a promontory, etc., 
 where the vessel could be overpowered. (Philostratus, 
 vita ApoU. Tyan. III. 24). The conclusion of the 
 story (the ladder hung outside of the ship so that it 
 touches the water) is taken from Plutarch (Pompeius, 
 24). 
 
 In " Lycon with the Big Hand " the artist Aristeides 
 and what is said of his paintings are historical. The 
 same is true of the traits of character cited about the 
 tyrant Alexander of Pherae. Under the description of 
 the earthquake is given an account of what is called in 
 seismology a tidat wave. A side-piece to this may be 
 found in Thucydides (III. 89) where — after a remark 
 about the frequency of earthquakes during the sixth 
 year of the Peloponnesian War — it is stated : " Among 
 these earthquakes the one at Orobiae in Euboea dis- 
 played a remarkable phenomenon. The sea receded 
 from the shore ; f/ieti suddenly retiirjied with a tremeti- 
 dous wave and flooded part of the coast, so that what 
 was formerly land became a portion of the sea. Many 
 people perished." 
 
 In these five stories the scene is laid in Athens, on 
 the ^gean Sea, and in Thessaly — but, wherever it is, I 
 have always endeavored to give the characters life and 
 movement, and make them children of the times and of 
 the Hellenic soil. I have also sought to delve deeper 
 into the life of ancient times than usually happens in
 
 VIII PREFACE. 
 
 novels. Many peculiarities, like the purification after 
 a murder in the first tale, the Baetylus oracle in 
 " The Hetaeria," and the use of the great weapon of 
 naval warfare, the dolpfmi, in " Too Happy " have 
 scarcely been previously described' in any form in our 
 literature. The belief in marvellous stones animated 
 by spirits was widely diffused in ancient times, as such 
 stones, under the name of abadir, were known in Phoe- 
 nicia. The description of the Baetylus oracle is 
 founded upon Pliny (17, 9, 51), Photius (p. 1047) and 
 Pausanias (X. 24). It is evident enough that the 
 stone-spirit's answer was given by the ventriloquist's 
 art. Though the ancients had several names for ven- 
 triloquists, such as engastri)Jiythae, sternomanteis, etc., 
 the art was certainly little known in daily life, it seems 
 to have been kept secret and used for the answers of 
 oracles, etc. The soothsayer and ventriloquist Eury- 
 cles, mentioned by Aristophanes, endeavored to make 
 the people believe that a spirit spoke from his mouth 
 because he uttered words without moving his lips. 
 For the dolphin, the weapon used in naval warfare, see 
 Scholia graeca in Aiistoph. (eqiiit 762) and Thucydides 
 (VII. 41). 
 
 In the ancient dialogue I have always endeavored 
 to give the replies an individual coloring, and it will be 
 found that Acestor speaks a different language from 
 Sthenelus, Philopator from Polycles, etc. Phrases like : 
 '* Begone to the vultures," " show the hollows under 
 the soles of the feet," " casting fire into the bosom," 
 etc., may easily be recognized as borrowed from the
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 classic writers. To enter into the subject more min- 
 utely would be carrying the matter too far. Single 
 characteristic expressions, such as palpale legei?i, etc. 
 cannot be reproduced. 
 
 In introducing the reader to so distant and alien a 
 world, it has been a matter of great importance to me 
 to win his confidence ; with this purpose I have sought 
 by quotations to show the authority for what I have 
 written. Here and there, to remove any doubt of the 
 existence of an object in ancient times, I have added 
 the Greek names. For the rest I have everywhere 
 striven to follow the old maxim artis est celare artetn. 
 
 Copenhagen, November i, 1881. 
 
 P. Mariager.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS, - - . - 1 
 
 THE SYCOPHANT, ... - 69 
 
 THE HETAERIA, - - ' - " 95 
 
 TOO HAPPY, - . - . . 203 
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND, - - - 225
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Gold-fillet (Dr. Schliemann. Hissarlik, Troy.) ..... I 
 
 Dragon figure on a gold plate (Dr. Schliemann, Mycenae.). 65 
 
 The market of Athens at a later period, about 200 B. C. (In 
 the upper part, in the background, is the Acropolis with 
 the Parthenon, the colossal statue of Athene, and the 
 Propyla;a. To the left of the centre is a part of King 
 Attalus' hall, afterwards the Stoa Poecile, the circular 
 Tholus, and behind, the Bouleuterium. In the fore- 
 ground is a statue of Eirene, Peace, with the child 
 Plutus in her arms ; in the centre of the steps the square 
 orator's stage with hermae at the corners 69 
 
 Antique vase design, 92 
 
 Athens seen from the road to Elejisis. (In the centre of the 
 picture the Acropolis, with the lower town in front, in 
 the background Mt. Hymettus.) 95 
 
 Antique vase design, , . , 199 
 
 The Aegean Sea. (A large ploion, merchant ship, followed by 
 
 a pirate craft. Two of the Cyclades in the background. ) 203 
 
 Jienaissance design, 222 
 
 Coast scene in Thessaly, (near Pass of Thermopylae,) . . 225 
 
 Ancient jugglers, (Tlie figure at the right is performing a, 
 
 "sword dance.") 318
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS 
 
 A TALE OF THE PELASGIAN PERIOD.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 
 
 The region was one of the most noteworthy in 
 Attica. Manifold in variety were the objects crowded 
 together within a narrow space. By the side of riven 
 masses of rock appeared the smooth slopes of a moun- 
 tain plateau, and — the centre of the landscape — a 
 huge crag with a flat top and steep sides towered aloft 
 like a gigantic stone altar, reared by the earth itself to 
 receive the homage and reverence of mankind. Two 
 rivers, a wide and a narrow stream, flowed down its 
 sides. Height and valley, ravine and mountain peak, 
 closely adjoined each other, all easy of access and af- 
 fording a surprising wealth of beautiful views. 
 
 The spot had a lofty destination. Here temples 
 and pillared halls, hermae and statues were to appear
 
 2 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 like the marble embodiment of a dream of beauty in 
 the youth of the human race ; from hence the light of 
 intellect was to diffuse its rays over the whole inhabited 
 world. 
 
 But in the distant ages of which we are now speak- 
 ing Athens had no existence even in name. Yet a 
 suburb of the city afterwards so renowned was already 
 in course of construction. On the Pnyx, the Areopagus, 
 and part of the Museium stood a number of dwellings, 
 and even at the present day traces may be found on 
 these heights of eight or nine hundred houses, which 
 must have lodged three or four thousand persons. 
 
 This city, founded by inhabitants of the island of 
 Salamis, was called Kranaai, and its residents were 
 known by the name of Cranai, dwellers on the heights. 
 
 Nothing could be more simple than these houses. 
 As may still be seen, they consisted merely of a room 
 hollowed in the cliff, closed in front and above with 
 clay and stones, — the latter seem to have rested upon 
 logs to prevent a sudden fall during the earthquakes so 
 frequent in this region. Here and there small holes, 
 into which the ends of the pieces of timber were thrust, 
 may still be discerned in the cliffs. Many of the dwell- 
 ings were arranged in rows, rising like stairs one above 
 another, all with an open space in front to serve as a 
 place of meeting for the inhabitants. These terraces 
 were connected by small steps hewn in the rock ; here 
 and there appeared altars, large storehouses, and tombs, 
 the latter consisting of one or more subterranean rock 
 chambers. Great numbers of such sepulchres are still
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 3 
 
 found scattered over large tracts of the ancient cliff- 
 city. 
 
 Other remains of masonry may be seen in the holes 
 in the earth made to collect rain-water. More than 
 twenty of these ancient wells can be counted in this 
 region, for though the Attic country was richly dowered 
 in many respects, it lacked water, and it was not with- 
 out cause that Solon's law afterwards prohibited any 
 one from borrowing of a neighbor more than a certain 
 quantity. The inhabitants of Kranaai had located 
 their wells so skilfully that even now — after the lapse 
 of more than thirty centuries — many of them collect 
 and keep the rain. 
 
 Below the cliff-city itself the direction of the streets 
 may still be discerned, especially in the deep gully 
 leading down to the Ilissus. Here there are distinct 
 traces of wheels, between which the stone was rough- 
 ened to give the draught-animals a better foothold, and 
 along the sides of the road ran smooth-hewn gut- 
 ters to carry off the rain-water pouring down from 
 both bluffs. 
 
 II. 
 
 Many generations had already succeeded each 
 other in the cliff-city, when a new race settled on the 
 litde plateau between the Hill of the Nymphs and the 
 Gulf of Barathron. Like their predecessors, the new- 
 comers originated in Salamis, but they called them-
 
 4 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 selves Cychreans, from a family descended from Cy- 
 chreus, one of the demi-gods of the island. 
 
 While on the Pnyx alone was found the altar of 
 Zeus Hypsistos, the supreme Zeus, around which 
 gathered the native inhabitants and the Cranai to 
 worship a common god, the new-comers erected a 
 sanctuary to the sea-nymph Melite, Hercules' love, 
 who was related to the ^acidae, natives of Salamis. 
 
 The two neighboring colonies thus each worshipped 
 its own divinity and lived in peace and friendship, nay 
 at last some of the Cychreans took wives among the 
 daughters of the Cranai. 
 
 On the other hand the new-comers were by no 
 means on good terms with the natives ; for, as the latter 
 lived scattered over the country and did not seem to 
 be very numerous, the Cychreans had forced those they 
 met to work for them. They had already employed 
 them to smooth the cliff, to enable them to build there, 
 and many of the Pelasgians had been seriously injured 
 by the toilsome labor. Nay, Tydeus, a tall, handsome 
 youth, brother of one of their chiefs, had sufifered a 
 terrible death, having been stoned because he had de- 
 fended himself and refused to work for the foreigners. 
 
 The Cychreans endeavored to conceal their crime, 
 fearing that when the matter reached the Pelasgians' 
 ears they would make war upon them. There was 
 very grave cause for alarm; for the Cychreans had 
 often seen from their cliff Pelasgian scouts hiding be- 
 hind the clumps of broom on the plains, evidently 
 watching for an opportunity to approach their enslaved
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 5 
 
 countrymen. Young, swift-footed youths, whom it was 
 lost time to pursue, had invariably been chosen for 
 this service, so the Cychreans lay in ambush, captured 
 some of the lads and questioned them narrowly then, 
 as they pretended to know nothing, forced them to work 
 like the others. 
 
 The morning after the capture of these spies the 
 Cychreans noticed that, far out on the plain, a pile of 
 wood had been lighted, on which ferns and green 
 plants were undoubtedly thrown ; for it sent forth a 
 dense, blackish-brown smoke, which rose to a consider- 
 able height and could be seen far and near. Later in 
 the day another bale-fire was discovered farther off, 
 and before noon ten columns of smoke were counted 
 from the cliff, five on each side, the last of which were 
 almost lost to sight in the distance. There was some- 
 thing strangely menacing in these murky clouds which, 
 calling to and answering each other, rose like a mute 
 accusation towards the sky. 
 
 The whole Cychrean nation, young and old, bond 
 and free, gathered outside of their houses and stared 
 at the unknown sign. They suspected that it was a 
 signal for the Pelasgians to assemble, but when they 
 spoke of it to the new bondmen the latter said they 
 had never seen such a smoke, but that the Cychreans 
 might rely upon it that the Pelasgians would not march 
 against them until the arrival of a more propitious 
 day. When the new settlers asked when that would 
 be, they answered : 
 
 " When the moon is large in the sky."
 
 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 The Cychreans were obliged to be content with 
 this, but each man in secret carefully examined his 
 weapons ; no one believed himself safe. 
 
 III. 
 
 Lyrcus, son of Xanthios, was one of the principal 
 Cychrean chiefs. He was feared for his strength and, 
 in those days, fear was synonymous with respect. Lyr- 
 cus had devoted himself to the trade of war ; he under- 
 stood how to forge and handle weapons and taught 
 the youths their use. In personal appearance he was 
 a tall man with curling black locks, a reddish-brown 
 beard, and a keen, but by no means ugly face. He 
 usually went clad in a tight-fitting garment made of 
 wolf-skins, that left his muscular legs and arms bare, 
 and wore around his waist a leather girdle'in which was 
 thrust a bronze knife a finger long. Many tales about 
 him were in circulation among the Pelasgians; for 
 being a warlike man he had often quarrelled with them 
 and on predatory excursions with some of his comrades 
 had plundered their lands, carrying off goats, barley, 
 figs, honey, and whatever else pleased him. 
 
 Lyrcus was no longer very young. He had seen 
 the green leaves unfold and the swallows return some 
 forty times. Nevertheless, he had always scoffed at 
 love and considered it foolish trifling. When he was 
 not forging, his mind was absorbed in the chase and 
 in practising the use of arms.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 7 
 
 Yet, though Lyrcus was so fierce a warrior, Aphro- 
 dite had touched his heart and shown that she, as well 
 as Artemis, deserved the name of Hekaerge, the far- 
 shooting. Once, during a short visit to the neighbor- 
 ing settlement, Lyrcus had seen Byssa, the fairest 
 maiden in the cliff-city, drawing water from the well in 
 front of her house, and had instantly been seized with 
 an ardent passion for her. Grasping her firmly by the 
 arm, he gazed intently at her and, when the blushing 
 maiden asked why he held her so roughly, he replied : 
 " Never to let you go !" Such was the fierce Lyrcus' 
 wooing. 
 
 Byssa's father, Ariston, the priest of Zeus Hypsis- 
 tos, was an aged, gentle-natured man who dared not 
 refuse the turbulent warrior ; yet he only gave his con- 
 sent on condition that Byssa should keep the faith of 
 her ancestors and not offer sacrifices to Melite in the 
 Cychreans' sanctuary. Nevertheless, both he and his 
 wife had tears in their eyes when Lyrcus bore their 
 only child away and, in taking leave of Byssa, Ariston 
 laid his hands upon her head, saying : 
 
 " Be a good wife to this stranger. But do not 
 abandon Zeus Hypsistos, that Zeus Hypsistos may not 
 abandon you." 
 
 Since that day a whole winter had passed, and 
 Lyrcus seemed to love Byssa more and more tenderly. 
 There was only one subject on which the husband and 
 wife held different opinions. When Lyrcus saw the 
 other women flocking to Melite's sanctuary he often 
 wished that Byssa should accompany them. But
 
 8 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Byssa was inflexible. " Remember your promise to 
 my father," she said. " Whatever may befall me, I 
 shall never forget his counsel : ' Do not abandon Zeus 
 Hypsistos, that Zeus Hypsistos may not abandon 
 you.' " And so the matter rested. But when a Phoe- 
 nician ship came to the coast — for in those days the 
 Phoenicians were the only people who dared to sail 
 across the sea — Lyrcus bought the finest stuffs, orna- 
 ments, and veils. It seemed as though he could not 
 adorn Byssa enough, she was to be more richly attired 
 than any of the Cychrean women. 
 
 Byssa had already had one suitor before her mar- 
 riage, one of the Pelasgian chiefs, a man thirty-eight 
 years old, named Periphas. He was the owner of a 
 large herd of goats, often offered sacrifices to Zeus, 
 smoothed many a quarrel, and had the reputation of 
 being a good and upright man. Yet there was little 
 reason that he should be renowned for piety and sanc- 
 tity, for he could scarcely control his passions and had 
 so violent a temper that he had once killed a sooth- 
 sayer because the latter, in the presence of the people, 
 had predicted that he would die a shameful death. 
 
 While offering a sacrifice in the cliff-city Periphas 
 had seen pretty Byssa and instantly asked her of her 
 father, promising rich bridal gifts. But the priest Ariston 
 had answered that the maiden was still too young. 
 
 After that time Periphas was often met in the 
 vicinity of the Cranai's cliff and, when sacrifices were 
 offered on the ancient altar, always appeared at the 
 head of the Pelasgians. But from the hour Lyrcus
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 9 
 
 had carried Byssa home none of the Cranai had seen 
 him, though it was said that on one of Lyrcus' pillag- 
 ing excursions he had shouted : 
 
 " Beware, when the day of retribution comes, I 
 shall not content myself with carrying off goats." 
 
 Such was the state of affairs at the beginning of our 
 tale. It almost seemed as if the capture of the spies 
 was to give occasion for war ; one of the youths had 
 succeeded in escaping and the Cychreans feared that 
 during his stay among them he might have obtained 
 news of Tydeus' death. This Tydeus, who had been 
 so shamefully stoned, was Periphas' brother, and the 
 chief thus had double cause for vengeance — his 
 brother's murder and his shghted love. 
 
 But spite of the danger, under these circumstances, 
 of leaving the Cychreans' cliff Lyrcus had too restless 
 a nature to remain quietly at home. The very day 
 that the columns of smoke had struck such terror into 
 the people he had set out early in the morning, accom- 
 panied by six or eight men, to hunt on the plains or 
 among the woods that clothed Mt. Parnes. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The day had been one of scorching heat. The sun 
 had still one-sixth of its course to run, and the air 
 quivered over the heated cliffs. 
 
 The Cychreans had sought refuge outside of their 
 small, close dwellings to get a breath of the north
 
 lO PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 wind. On each terrace, men, women, and children 
 were moving about, the former often clad merely with 
 the skin of some animal thrown around the hips, the 
 boys perfectly nude, and the women in looped, sleeve- 
 less garments or sometimes with only a short petticoat 
 over the loins. Most of these robes were white, and 
 the others were made of red, yellow, or blue stuffs ; at 
 that time people valued only bright pure colors. 
 Everywhere merry conversation was heard, and these 
 hundreds of half-nude figures formed an indescribably 
 animated picture against the dark background of rock. 
 Fear of the Pelasgians seemed to have vanished even 
 before the fires were extinguished, at any rate it did not 
 prevent the Cychreans from enjoying the present mo- 
 ment. 
 
 On one of the lowest terraces, directly opposite to 
 the Areopagus, stood Lyrcus' house and beside it the 
 shed where he forged his weapons. At the door he 
 had chained a large yellow dog of the Molossian breed, 
 a sort of bull-dog, and in the shelter of the dwelling an 
 old female slave was busy at a fire, over which she had 
 hung a soot-encrusted clay vessel. 
 
 A few paces off, towards the edge of the cliff, a 
 canopy of rushes was stretched between long poles. 
 Beneath its shadow stood Byssa busied in weaving 
 loose bits of woollen stuff into a single piece. The 
 " chain " was placed perpendicularly, so that the weav- 
 ing was done standing ; — the horizontal loom, which 
 had been used in Egypt for centuries, was not yet 
 known in Hellas.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. II 
 
 As Byssa stood near the verge of the cUff, with the 
 blue sky behind her, there was an excellent opportunity 
 to observe her. She had fastened her dark hair in a 
 knot through which a bronze pin was thrust, and wore 
 around her neck a row of blue glass beads. The rest 
 of her dress consisted merely of a red petticoat, reach- 
 ing from her hips to her knees. But her low brow, her 
 calm black eyes, brilliant complexion, and full bust dis- 
 played the voluptuous beauty pecuhar to the South, 
 and which, even in early youth, suggests the future 
 mother. In short, she was a true descendant of the 
 grand Hellenic women, who from the dim mists of dis- 
 tant ages appear in the bewitching lore of tradition, 
 fair enough to lure the gods themselves and strong 
 enough to bear their ardent embrace and become the 
 mothers of demi-gods and heroes. 
 
 It was a pleasure to see how nimbly she used her 
 hands, and how swiftly the weaving progressed. Each 
 movement of the young wife's vigorous, rounded, 
 slightly-sun-bumed body, though lacking in grace, pos- 
 sessed a peculiar witchery on which no man's eye 
 would have rested with impunity. 
 
 But all men seemed banished from her presence. 
 Every one knew that Lyrcus' jealousy was easily in- 
 flamed, and however great the charm Byssa exercised, 
 fear of the fierce warrior was more potent still. 
 
 Byssa's thoughts did not seem to be absorbed in her 
 work. Each moment she glanced up from her weaving. 
 
 The Attic plain lay outspread before her in the sun- 
 light. Here were no waving grain-fields, no luxuriant
 
 12 PICTURES OF HELLAS 
 
 vineyards ; the layer of soil that covered the rocks was 
 so thin that the scanty crop of grass could only feed a 
 few goats. Here and there appeared a few gnarled 
 olive-trees, whose green-grey foliage glistened with a 
 silvery lustre, and wherever there was a patch of moist- 
 ure the earth was covered with a speckled carpet of 
 crocus, hyacinth, and narcissus blossoms. 
 
 Finding the plain always empty and desolate, the 
 young wife at last let her hands fall and, sighing deeply, 
 turned towards the slave. 
 
 " How long he stays !" she exclaimed, breaking the 
 silence. 
 
 " Lyrcus is strong and well armed," replied the slave 
 as she heaped more wood on the fire. " The Pelasgians 
 fear him worse than death. He will return unhurt." 
 
 Byssa worked on silently ; but she was not at ease 
 and looked up from her weaving still more frequently 
 than before. 
 
 " Why," cried the slave suddenly, " there they are. 
 Look at Bremon." * The bull-dog had risen on its hind 
 legs and was leaning forward so that the chain was 
 stretched tight ; snuffing the wind and growling impa- 
 tiently it wagged its tail with all its might. 
 
 V. 
 
 Byssa stepped farther from under the rush canopy 
 and shaded her eyes with her hands. On the right the 
 
 * Growler.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 15 
 
 view was closed by Mt. Lycabettus, whose twin peaks 
 looked almost like one ; on the left the gaze rested on 
 dark Parnes, whose strangely-formed side-spur, Harma, 
 the chariot, was distinctly visible from the Cychreans' 
 cliff. 
 
 For a long time Byssa saw nothing, then she acci- 
 dentally noticed, much nearer than she had expected, 
 a white spot among some trees. 
 
 " There he is ! There he is !" she cried joyously, 
 clapping her hands. " Tratta, rejoice ! I see a light 
 spot out there — his white horse." 
 
 In a mountainous country like Attica even the 
 plains are uneven, and a rise of the ground concealed 
 her view of the approaching steed. 
 
 At last the light spot appeared again — this time 
 considerably nearer. Then several moments passed, 
 during which it seemed to grow larger. 
 
 Byssa strained her sight to the utmost, her bosom 
 heaving with anxious suspense. Suddenly she turned 
 very pale and throwing herself upon Tratta's breast, 
 faltered in a low voice : 
 
 " Something terrible has happened. The horse is 
 alone — riderless." 
 
 Almost at the same instant she released herself from 
 the slave's embrace and went to the very verge of the 
 cliff. From thence, at a long distance behind the 
 horse, she descried a group of people slowly advancing. 
 Several men who looked like black specks seemed to 
 be carrying another, and several more followed. 
 
 At this sight Byssa uttered a loud shriek and
 
 14 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 clenched both hands in her hair. But Tratta held her 
 back. 
 
 " Be calm, child," she said with all the authority of 
 age. " First learn what has happened. You can find 
 plenty of time to mourn." 
 
 But Byssa did not heed her. The horse had come 
 very near and was galloping swiftly to its stable at the 
 foot of the cliff. 
 
 Ere Tratta could prevent it, Byssa hurried to the 
 nearest flight of stairs and darted madly down the 
 rough-hewn steps, where the slightest stumble would 
 cause mutilation or death. The slave, not without an 
 anxious shake of the head, slowly followed. 
 
 The horse had scarcely allowed itself to be caught 
 when Byssa, with tears in her eyes and a peculiar sol- 
 emnity of manner, turned to the old servant and 
 pointed to the animal's heaving flank. 
 
 There was not the slightest wound to be seen ; but 
 a streak of blood a finger broad had flowed down the 
 steed's white side and matted its hair together. 
 
 " I knew it, Tratta, I knew it !" cried Byssa despair- 
 ingly. 
 
 Then, in a lower tone, she added : " It is his 
 blood." 
 
 But Tratta answered almost angrily : 
 
 " His or some other person's ; what do you know 
 about it ? Help me to get the horse into the shed." 
 
 Byssa, without knowing what she was doing, obeyed 
 and then looked out over the plain, where she beheld a 
 sight that made her tremble from head to foot.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 1 5 
 
 Lyrcus was approaching uninjured at the head of 
 his men. 
 
 Byssa uttered a shriek of joy that echoed from cHff 
 to cUff as, with outstretched arms and fluttering hair, 
 she flew to meet her husband. 
 
 Lyrcus knit his brows. 
 
 " What is it ? What do you want here ?" he asked, 
 surprised to find her at the base of the chff". 
 
 But Byssa heeded neither words nor look. Throw- 
 ing her arms around his neck she clung to him and 
 covered his wolf-skin robe with tears and kisses. 
 
 " Lyrcus, you are alive," she repeated frantically, 
 while all the fear and suspense she had endured found 
 vent in soothing sobs. 
 
 " Byssa, speak ! What is it ?" asked Lyrcus, amazed 
 at the excitement in which he found his wife. 
 
 Byssa took him by the hand, led him to the stable, 
 and put her finger on the red streak upon the horse's 
 side. 
 
 " Simpleton !" said Lyrcus laughing. " That is no 
 human blood. And he pointed to a huge dead wild- 
 boar, which two men could scarcely carry on a lance 
 flung over their shoulders. "After the hunt," he con- 
 tinued, " we wanted to put the great heavy beast on 
 the horse; but it was frightened, bolted, and ran 
 home." 
 
 Meantime the men had come up. In spite of their 
 fear of Lyrcus they could not refrain from looking at 
 pretty Byssa, who was now doubly beautiful in her agi- 
 tation and delight. Nay, some were not content with
 
 l6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 gazing at her face, but cast side-glances at her bare 
 feet and ankles, which were sufficiently well-formed to 
 attract attention, though it was customary for women 
 to go about with looped garments. 
 
 Lyrcus noticed these stolen glances, and frowning 
 gripped his lance more firmly. 
 
 " Why do you wear that red rag ?" he said harshly, 
 pointing to Byssa's short petticoat. " Haven't I given 
 you long robes ?" 
 
 " The sun is so hot — and I was alone at my weav- 
 ing," stammered the poor young wife with a burning 
 blush. 
 
 As she spoke, confused and abashed, she put her 
 foot on the lowest step of the rock-stairs and was going 
 to hurry up the cliff. But Lyrcus seized her and hurl- 
 ing her behind him so that he concealed her with his 
 own body, shouted sternly to his companions : 
 
 " Forward !" 
 
 Then he himself went up after them, watching 
 rigidly to see that no one looked back, but left Byssa 
 and the slave to follow as best they could. 
 
 VI. 
 
 On the cliff above there was great joy among the 
 Cychreans over the splendid game. But when the 
 animal was flayed and its flesh cut into pieces all, not 
 merely the hunters themselves but their friends and 
 relatives, wanted a share of the prize. From words
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. l^ 
 
 they came to blows, and Lyrcus needed all his au- 
 thority to restrain the infuriated men. 
 
 Meantime the sun had set behind the mountains of 
 Corydallus. The olive-trees on the plain cast no shad- 
 ows, the whole of the level ground was veiled in dark- 
 ness. Everything was silent and peaceful, ever and 
 anon a low twittering rose from the thickets. 
 
 The Cychreans lingered gossipping together after 
 the labor of the day. Some of them asked Lyrcus and 
 his companions whether anything had happened during 
 the hunt. Lyrcus replied that small parties of Pelas- 
 gians had been seen passing in the distance, but he 
 seemed to attach no importance to the matter, and 
 many of the Cychreans were preparing to go to rest — 
 when a child's clear voice cried in amazement : 
 
 " Look, look ! The hills are moving !" 
 
 Every eye followed the direction of the child's 
 finger. 
 
 Far away over some low hills, whose crests stood 
 forth in clear relief against the evening sky, a strange 
 rippling motion was going on. It looked as though 
 some liquid body was flowing down, for one dark rank 
 succeeded another, as wave follows wave. 
 
 There was something in the sight which turned the 
 blood in the Cychreans' veins to ice. Nothing was 
 visible on the plain itself; everything there was 
 shrouded in the dusk of evening. 
 
 All listened in breathless suspense. Then a rushing 
 sound echoed through the increasing darkness — a 
 noise like a great body of men in motion, the hum of
 
 15 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 many voices, distant shouts, songs, and the clash of 
 Aveapons. The din seemed to increase and draw 
 nearer. Then flames gUmmered, as though instantly 
 covered by dark figures. It was like a living stream, 
 that grew and widened till it surrounded the whole cliff. 
 
 Then a torch was lighted and a small party of ten 
 or twelve men approached within a bow-shot. Two of 
 them put long horns of spiral form to their mouths, and 
 wild echoing notes resounded from cliff to cHff. A 
 man clad in a white linen robe stepped forward, raising 
 aloft a laurel staff. Deep silence followed, and his 
 shrill voice was now heard, saying : 
 
 " Cychreans ! Ye have greatly wronged us. Ye 
 have built houses on land that was not yours ; ye have 
 made the men of our nation serve you and, when the 
 youth Tydeus refused, ye basely murdered him. 
 
 " For the surrender of the land and in token of sub- 
 jection ye must pay us, the original inhabitants of the 
 country, an annual tribute of seven hundred spears and 
 as many swords and shields." 
 
 Here a loud clamor arose among the Cychreans. 
 They understood that it was the Pelasgians' intention 
 to disarm them, and their wrath found vent in fierce 
 invectives. 
 
 " Listen to the dogs !" they shouted. " Ere the 
 battle has begun, they talk like conquerors. Do the 
 bragging fools suppose they can blow the cliff over 
 with their snail horns ?" 
 
 But the herald did not allow himself to be inter- 
 rupted.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 19 
 
 " Cychreans !" he continued, " the Pelasgians whom 
 ye have enslaved must be set free and, in compensa- 
 tion for your crime of murder, we demand that you de- 
 liver up to us Lyrcus, who has provoked war and pil- 
 laged peaceful dwellers in the land. These demands 
 we will enforce by arms. We no longer come with en- 
 treaties, but with commands." 
 
 Again a terrible din arose, but Lyrcus ordered si- 
 lence and springing upon a rock, from which he could 
 be seen and heard far and near, shouted : 
 
 " Pelasgians ! The land where we have built was 
 desolate and uninhabited ; it belonged to us as much 
 as to you. When you demand slaves and wish me to 
 be delivered over to you, the answer is : Come and take 
 MS. But mark this : it is you, not we, who begin the 
 war; we only defend ourselves againt assault. This 
 answer is deserved, and approved by our people." 
 
 Loud exulting shouts from the Cychreans hailed 
 his words. 
 
 Lyrcus gazed confidently around him ; for, reckless 
 as he was of his own safety, he was cautious where the 
 people's welfare was concerned. At the first sign of 
 war he had put the clitf in a posture of defence. 
 
 At all the wider approaches he had piled heaps of 
 huge stones to be rolled down on the foe, and where 
 men could climb up singly he had stationed sentinels. 
 The rear of the height was inaccessible ; here stretched 
 for more than four hundred ells the Gulf of Barathron, 
 bordered along its almost perpendicular sides by cliffs 
 from ninety to a hundred yards high. This dark, wild
 
 20 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 chasm was afterwards used for a place of execution; 
 and it was here that malefactors whom the law sen- 
 tenced " to be hurled into the abyss " ended their days. 
 Towards the north, the windward side, the cliff had no 
 covering of earth and here at its foot, half concealed 
 among some huge boulders, was the entrance to a cave 
 which led obliquely upward to some subterranean 
 tombs, whence a steep passage extended to one of 
 the lower terraces. In this passage Lyrcus had had 
 steps hewn in order to secure a secret descent to the 
 plain, and for farther concealment he had ordered 
 bushes to be planted outside of the cave. 
 
 Though the Cychreans on the whole were in good 
 spirits, they found themselves in a serious mood as the 
 decisive hour approached. Lyrcus, at his first leisure 
 moment, had assured Byssa that the Pelasgians would 
 be received in such a way that not a single man could 
 set foot on the open space before the houses. The 
 young wife silently embraced him ; her eyes were full 
 of tears and she could not speak. She trusted her hus- 
 band impHcitly, but nevertheless was deeply moved. 
 
 " Before the sun goes down," she thought, " many 
 an eye will be closed. And what will be Lyrcus* 
 fate ?" 
 
 VII. 
 
 The greater portion of the night passed quietly. 
 They saw the Pelasgians light fires in a semi-circle
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 2 1 
 
 around the clifif and noticed the smell of roasted meat. 
 Songs and laughter were heard, and with the fires a 
 thicket of spears seemed to have grown out of the 
 earth. 
 
 On the cliff itself deep silence reigned. Yet a 
 strange crackhng sound echoed upon the night, and 
 the wind brought a light mist and a smell of burning. 
 Soon after a red cloud rose into the air and from lip to 
 lip ran the shout : 
 
 " The store-house is on fire !" 
 
 Was it some foolhardy Pelasgian or one of the new- 
 made bondmen who had set it in flames ? In any case 
 the task had been no easy one. The store-house, like 
 the dwellings, had been hewn out of the cliff and con- 
 tained nothing combustible except seeds and the tim- 
 bers on which the roof rested. Nevertheless, the 
 flames spread swiftly, when the fire first reached the 
 air, and a part of the roof fell. Vast lurid clouds of 
 smoke whirled aloft and, as usual when seeds are burn- 
 ing, numberless showers of sparks rose with the smoke 
 and fell back again to the earth in a fine rain. Sud- 
 denly, just as the fallen timbers burst into a blaze, a 
 lofty column of fire shot up from the roof. The Hill 
 of the Nymphs, the Areopagus, and the height known 
 in later times as the Acropolis were illumined by a 
 crimson glow, and the whole Pelasgian army broke 
 into exulting shouts. 
 
 Some of the boldest came nearer, and an old bow- 
 legged simpleton, ridiculously equipped with a gigantic 
 helmet and an enormous club, strode toward the cliff,
 
 22 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 where he made a movement as though he was setting 
 his foot on the neck of a conquered foe. 
 
 At this defiance a young Cychrean seized his bow 
 and arrow. 
 
 " Rhai — bo — ske — les ! Bow-legs !" he shouted, his 
 voice echoing far over the plain, " where did you get 
 your shield ?" 
 
 The bow-string twanged — and the old man just as 
 he took flight fell backward to the ground. 
 
 The Cychreans clapped their hands and uttered 
 loud shouts of joy. 
 
 At the sight of the old man's fall — he was probably 
 a chief — a bloodthirsty yell ran through the ranks of 
 the Pelasgians. A long word, rendered unintelligible 
 by the distance, flew from mouth to mouth till it sud- 
 denly rang out clearly and distinctly like a command. 
 
 " Sphendonetai ! Slingers !" 
 
 Forth from the dark throng gathered around the 
 fires marched a body of men who had nothing but a 
 sheep-skin around their hips. They formed in two 
 rows facing the cliff, a score of paces intervening be- 
 tween the ranks, and the same distance between man 
 and man. 
 
 Among a pastoral race like the Pelasgians the sling 
 was an indispensable implement. It served to keep the 
 herds together; for when a goat or any of the cattle 
 had been hit once or twice by a stone from a sling the 
 shepherd-dog noticed it and kept a strict watch upon 
 the animal. By skill in the use of the sling the herds-
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 23 
 
 man thus saved himself the trouble of running after the 
 beasts which strayed away from the flocks, and in a 
 mountainous region like Attica, where one can scarcely 
 walk a few hundred paces without going up or down, 
 it is well to spare the legs. 
 
 The sling itself was very simple. It consisted 
 merely of two woollen cords half an ell long and about 
 as thick as the finger, fastened at each comer of a 
 piece of leather shaped like a lance-head, with a hole 
 in the middle to hold the stone firmly. The art of 
 using the implement consisted in letting one cord drop 
 at the moment the stone was in the right curve to 
 reach the mark. 
 
 The men with the sheep-skins round their loins col- 
 lected stones from the ground and hurled them towards 
 the cliff, until they ascertained the distance — then they 
 took them from the pouches they carried suspended by 
 a leather thong over their shoulders. These stones, of 
 which each man carried twelve or fourteen, weighed 
 about eight pounds. Afterwards bullets the size of a 
 hen's egg were used and these bullets, marked with the 
 Hellenic stamp, are still found on the plain of Mara- 
 thon. 
 
 Suddenly a deafening clatter resounded upon the 
 Cychreans' cliff from the stones which beat against the 
 houses and fell back on the hard ground. Soon shrieks 
 of pain blended with the din and Lyrcus perceived 
 with alarm that his people were being badly wounded 
 as, under the hail of stones from above, heads were 
 bruised or shoulder-joints injured.
 
 24 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 The youth who had felled the old chieftain again 
 seized his bow, but Lyrcus dashed it from his hands. 
 
 " Luckless wight !" he said, " our bows do not reach 
 half so far as their slings. Do you want to show them 
 it is so ?" 
 
 After hurriedly stationing sentinels where there was 
 any shelter, he ordered his men to retreat into the 
 houses. But even there they were not safe ; for when 
 one or more stones struck a roof whose timbers were 
 not new, it fell wholly or in part, wounding men, 
 women, and children. The cliff soon echoed with 
 wails and shrieks of pain, and the deafening rattle of 
 the shower of stones was gradually weakening the Cy- 
 chreans' courage, the more so because they were un- 
 able to defend themselves. 
 
 Then Lyrcus, who had mounted guard himself, saw 
 a small body of men approaching from the Pelasgian 
 camp, evidently to reconnoitre. They moved along 
 the cliff about a bow-shot off for some time, quietly al- 
 lowing the stones from the slings to fly over them. 
 Suddenly one who marched at the head of the band 
 raised a large conch horn to his lips, sounding three 
 long, shrill notes, and a great bustle arose among the 
 Pelasgians. 
 
 Five or six hundred men gathered in front of the 
 camp and hastily formed in ranks. Leaders were 
 heard firing their zeal and issuing orders. Then they 
 ran at full speed towards the cliff, where the spies, 
 holding their shields over their heads, were already try-
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 25 
 
 ing to show the advancing soldiers the places most 
 easy to ascend. 
 
 At the moment the dark figures in their goat-skin 
 garments and hoods set foot on the cliff, the hail of 
 stones ceased. The Cychreans now came out of 
 their houses and went to the heaps of stones piled on 
 the steps. Though the fire of the store-house was be- 
 ginning to die away, the lurid flames still afforded suf- 
 ficient light to show the Pelasgians their way. When 
 Lyrcus saw that they had scaled part of the height, he 
 gave orders to hurl the stones down. The Cychreans 
 set to work eagerly; rock after rock rolled down, 
 bounding from one boulder to another. Again loud 
 shrieks of pain arose, but this time from the Pelasgians, 
 many of whom missed their footing, plunged down- 
 ward, and were mangled by the fall. 
 
 Nevertheless, many of them, partly by escaping the 
 stones and partly by protecting themselves with their 
 shields, succeeded in approaching the open terrace of 
 the crag unhurt. Here the Cychreans rushed upon 
 them, but they defended themselves with the obstinacy 
 of men who have a steep cliff behind them. For a long 
 time the battle remained undecided — then the Cy- 
 chrean women hastened to the aid of the men. They 
 flung ashes and sand into the Pelasgians' eyes, and 
 some finally used heavy hand-mills for weapons. Nay, 
 lads of twelve and fourteen followed their mothers' ex- 
 ample and armed themselves with everything on which 
 they could lay hands. 
 
 When Lyrcus perceived that the battle was raging
 
 26 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 violently he turned towards the burning store-house 
 and, seeing that the fire was nearly out, he laughed 
 and exclaimed : " I'll risk it." Then, collecting the 
 men who could be spared, he led them by torchlight 
 through the covered passage to the plain. Here, under 
 cover of the darkness, he stole with his soldiers behind 
 the Pelasgians' camp and, while the latter were gazing 
 intently towards the cliff to see whether the attack was 
 successful, the Cychreans uttered a loud war cry and 
 unexpectedly assailed them in the rear. 
 
 Lyrcus, as usual, wore his wolf-skin robe and a 
 hood of the same fur on which, by way of ornament, he 
 had left the animal's ears — an appendage that gave 
 his head-gear a peculiarly fierce appearance. By the 
 uncertain light of the fires many of the Pelasgians 
 recognized him by the hood with the wolf's ears, and 
 soon the cry was heard : 
 
 " Lyrcus is upon us ! Fly from Lyrcus !" Then 
 began a flight so headlong that many of the soldiers 
 thus taken by surprise did not even give themselves 
 time to pull their spears out of the ground. 
 
 Just at that moment a chief in a copper helmet, 
 breast-plate, greaves, and shield, sprang from behind a 
 rock, threw himself like a madman before the fugitives 
 and wounded several with his spear. 
 
 "Periphas!" shouted Lyrcus, hurling his lance at 
 him. But the Pelasgian parried it with his shield, and 
 at the same instant its edge was cleft by the weapon he 
 stooped behind the rattling pieces. The ash-spear 
 whizzed over his head, ruffling his hair.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. IJ 
 
 " So near death !" he thought, and an icy chill ran 
 through bone and marrow. 
 
 Lyrcus drew his sword ; but a throng of fugitives 
 pressed between him and Periphas — he saw the latter's 
 glittering helmet whirled around and swept away by 
 the stream of men. 
 
 At the name of Lyrcus the alarm spread from 
 watch-fire to watch-fire. Just at that moment a loud 
 shriek of terror arose from those who had climbed the 
 Cychreans' cliff, for when the glow of the flames from 
 the burning store-house had died away they were 
 forced in the darkness over the verge of the bluff. 
 This shriek hastened the Pelasgians' flight; they in- 
 stantly perceived that they could expect no help from 
 their comrades. 
 
 Lyrcus, fearing that the enemy might discover how 
 small his band was, soon checked the pursuit, and 
 when his people on the way home vied with each other 
 in lauding him as conqueror, he replied : 
 
 "It was their mistake that they used fire as a torch 
 to scale the cliff; for when the flames died down they 
 were suddenly left in thick darkness with the foe in 
 front and a steep bluff behind. ... I, for my part, put 
 my trust in the darkness, under whose cover I surprised 
 the Pelasgians, and the darkness did not deceive me as 
 their flames deluded them."
 
 28 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 During the first few days after the unsuccessful at- 
 tack Periphas, from fear of the Cychreans, concealed 
 himself in a cave in Mt. Hymettus. It was known 
 only by the herdsman who brought him his provisions, 
 and the furniture consisted of some goat-skin coverlids, 
 a hand-mill, a few clay vessels, and a stone hearth. 
 
 One sultry afternoon when the sun shone into the 
 cavern Periphas was lying almost naked behind a block 
 of stone at the entrance. Before him stood a youth 
 with curling black hair and a deer-skin thrown around 
 his loins. Nomion was the son of a neighboring chief- 
 tain, and had been Tydeus' friend from boyhood. 
 
 Both looked grave, nay troubled ; they were talking 
 about the Cychreans and Tydeus' murder. 
 
 " I believe you are mistaken," said Nomion. " Lyr- 
 cus had nothing to do with the matter. Tydeus fell in 
 a broil ; his refusal to serve the Cychreans irritated 
 them and made them furious. Each threw a stone and 
 wounded him until the hapless youth drew his last 
 breath. It was like a swarm of bees attacking a mule ; 
 no single bee can be said to kill it, each one merely 
 gives its little sting — but the animal dies of them." 
 
 Periphas shook his head. 
 
 " I know better," he answered. " Lyrcus hates me 
 and all my race. Did I not woo Byssa ?" 
 
 " No, no," persisted Nomion, who as the son of a
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 2^ 
 
 chief used greater freedom of speech in addressing 
 Periphas than most others would have ventured to do. 
 If Lyrcus was the murderer, how could he enter the 
 places of assembly before the houses and move about 
 among the other Cychreans ? Who will associate with 
 an assassin ? Are not trials in all cases of murder, ac- 
 cording to ancient custom, held under the open sky 
 that neither accusers nor judges may be beneath the 
 same roof with the slayer?" 
 
 " I know," muttered Periphas with a sullen glance, 
 '* that a murderer is unclean." 
 
 " Not merely unclean — but under a double ban. 
 The victim's and the wrath of the gods. Shall the 
 murdered soul wander away from light and life without 
 demanding a bloody vengeance ? And the gods — 
 to whom murder is an abomination — shall they forbear 
 to practise righteous retribution ?" 
 
 Periphas, averting his face, remained silent. 
 
 " Forgive me !" exclaimed Nomion, " I forgot that 
 you yourself . . ." 
 
 "The soothsayer," — said Periphas, lowering his 
 voice, " yes, he fell before my spear. But he was rightly 
 served. Did not the fool proclaim aloud, in the pres- 
 ence of all, what he ought to have confided to me 
 alone ?" 
 
 " Yet it was a murder." 
 
 " No, my friend, believe me, it was something very 
 different from their crime. Don't you know, Nomion, 
 that no Pelasgian owns larger herds than I — well ! If 
 I have offended the gods, no one has brought them
 
 30 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 more numerous and costly offerings. Besides, I went 
 directly to Kranaai and caused Ariston to purify me, 
 according to priestly fashion, from the stain of blood. 
 As for the dead man's family — I appeased them long 
 ago with costly gifts." 
 
 " But — the disposition ?" asked Nomion, looking 
 Periphas straight in the eye. 
 
 " The disposition !" replied Periphas, shunning No- 
 mion's glance. "Youth, you utter strange words. 
 When neither gods nor men complain, who asks about 
 the disposition ?" 
 
 And Periphas burst into a strange, forced laugh, 
 that echoed almost uncannily through the cave. 
 
 " Be that as it may," said Nomion. " If the 
 Cychreans suffer murderers to live among them unpun- 
 ished, will not they, too, will not the whole nation be 
 unclean and exposed to the wrath of the gods ?" 
 
 " It seems so." 
 
 " Yet the Cychreans remain victors, while we, Ty- 
 deus' avengers, are scattered like chaff before the wind. 
 What is the cause ?" 
 
 " Perhaps their gods are stronger than ours." 
 
 " The sea-nymph Melite stronger than Zeus Hyp- 
 sistos ! You cannot believe that." 
 
 " Perhaps we ought to have waited for a lucky 
 day." 
 
 "No," retorted Nomion, "I believe that Lyrcus 
 conquered because he has done no evil. He is a war- 
 like fellow and foremost in the fray, so he cannot con- 
 tent himself with carrying away goats, barley, figs, and
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 31 
 
 honey. But he has never killed a man except in fair 
 fight. Had he been present, Tydeus would never have 
 been stoned." 
 
 " You have a remarkably good opinion of Lyrcus," 
 said Periphas. " But why talk about this Cychrean 
 continually ? There are other chiefs in the country . . . 
 Well ! We'll see whether the gods will protect him an- 
 other time." 
 
 " Periphas ! What are you planning ?" 
 
 " Do you know the pretty bird whose name is 
 Kitta ? It loves its mate so dearly that it cannot live 
 without it. Let the hen be caught in the nest by some 
 simple snare, and the cock will fly after her of its own 
 accord and allow itself to be captured." 
 
 *' In the name of the gods ! Do I understand you ? 
 Do you mean to steal Byssa ?" 
 
 " Doesn't she seem to you worth having ? Well, 
 by Zeus," continued Periphas, the blood mounting into 
 his cheeks, " I would rather carry her away than goats, 
 barley, figs, and honey." 
 
 " Beware, Periphas ! Don't drive Lyrcus to frenzy. 
 He will then be capable of anything." 
 
 " Not when he is in 7ny power." 
 
 IX. 
 
 At the foot of the heights of Agrae, a part of Mt. 
 Hymettus, the channel of the Ilissus widens. The river 
 here divides into two arms, which enclose a level
 
 32 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 island. At the place where the branches meet the 
 banks form a bluff with two pits; here, trickling be- 
 tween the layers of stone, excellent drinking water col- 
 lects in such abundance as to form a pond. It is the 
 fountain of Callirhoe (beautiful spring) and is used at 
 the present day as a pool for washing. 
 
 At the time of this story Callirhoe was the place 
 from which the wives and daughters of the Cychreans, 
 as well as the Cranai, brought water when the little 
 wells on the cliffs were exhausted. The fountain of 
 Clepsydra was considerably nearer; but as the name 
 (water that steals forth) implies, it was too scanty to 
 supply two colonies. Therefore the people were obliged 
 to fetch water from the banks of the Ilissus, more than 
 two thousand feet off, in a desolate tract of country 
 called Agrae. The journey was not wholly free from 
 peril, for the Pelasgians roving over Mt. Hymettus 
 considered the pool their own and looked askance at 
 all others who sought to use it. Women had often 
 been molested there and several times even abducted. 
 Therefore it had become the custom for the women 
 and girls to go to the fountain in parties, and to be ac- 
 companied by armed men. But several years had now 
 elapsed since any one had been molested, and the 
 guard of men was beginning to be rather careless. In- 
 stead of weapons, many of the younger ones took the 
 implements of the chase and amused themselves by 
 snaring hares, great numbers of which were found in 
 this region. 
 
 The trip to the fountain on the whole was a pleas-
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 23 
 
 ure excursion. With the faculty for making life easy 
 and pleasant possessed by all southern nations, the 
 time was well-chosen. In the first place the party 
 started in the afternoon ; the sun was then behind them 
 and when they returned it was hidden below Mt. 
 Corydallus. One of the older men took a syrinx or a 
 flute ; the young fellows jested with the pretty maids 
 and matrons, they relieved each other in carrying the 
 water-jars, laughter and song resounded, sometimes 
 they even danced in long lines on the open ground be- 
 side the pool. 
 
 A few days after the conversation between Periphas 
 and Nomion in the cave on Mt. Hymettus one of these 
 expeditions was made. After the recent victory there 
 was two-fold mirth, and the party could be heard for a 
 long distance amid the rural stillness of the country 
 bordering the Ilissus. At the first sound of the notes 
 of the flute and the merry voices something stirred in 
 the bushes on the crag just below the fountain of Cal- 
 lirhoe. Two sunburnt hands pushed the branches 
 aside and a brown visage appeared, of which, however, 
 little could be seen, as a goat-skin hood was drawn low 
 over the brow. Periphas — for it was he — saw from 
 his hiding-place the women approaching between a 
 double row of men. 
 
 " There they are !" he said to Nomion, who lay 
 concealed behind him. " What do you say to the 
 jilot ? First the wife, then the husband. To-morrow 
 morning, perhaps to-night, Lyrcus will be in our power. 
 Will you help me ?" 
 
 3
 
 34 PICTURKS OF HELLAS. 
 
 " No, by Zeus, no !" replied Nomion fimily. " On 
 the contrary, I will warn you again. Consider, Peri- 
 phas ! Don't throw the last anchor upon treacherous 
 ground. It ill-beseems the younger man to advise the 
 older — may Zeus open your eyes while there is yet 
 time." 
 
 " Begone to the vultures, foolish boy !" cried Peri- 
 phas angrily. " You use sword and lance like a man. 
 But where is your courage ?" 
 
 " By the gods, it isn't courage I lack," replied No- 
 mion, as he let himself slide down the precipice and 
 vanished among the hills. 
 
 Meantime the party had come nearer. Suddenly 
 there was a movement in the last rank and the joyous 
 shout : " A hare ! A hare !" Without losing a moment 
 the youths divided into two bands who, with long 
 poles in their hands, tried to drive the animal towards 
 some snares set at the end of the valley. The older 
 ones convinced themselves that no Pelasgians were in 
 sight, and then slowly followed to witness the result of 
 the chase. 
 
 Had Lyrcus been present, this would not have 
 happened; but he had remained at home to forge 
 some weapons. 
 
 X. 
 
 The women, who were left to themselves by the 
 men's zeal for the chase, went to the pool and set down
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 
 
 35 
 
 their water-jars. The barren, dreary region, where 
 usually nothing was seen except a few goats and shep- 
 herds, now swarmed with young Cychrean women in 
 white and variegated robes. Most of them stood talk- 
 ing together by the pond — some, weary and breath- 
 less, stretched themselves on the mossy bank of the 
 river; others wiped the dust from their limbs with dry 
 leaves; many gathered flowers in the shade, others 
 waded out into the stream to cool their feet in the shal- 
 low, but clear and inviting water. 
 
 Periphas, from his hiding-place, saw them all, yet 
 among the whole party his eye sought only one. 
 
 Byssa was sitting near the pool among some young 
 matrons of her own age. She had removed her san- 
 dals, and while he was watching her, rested her foot on 
 her knee to examine a scratch she had received from 
 the stones on the way. A young woman, whose ap- 
 pearance indicated that she was about to become a 
 mother, approached with her arms full of flowers and, 
 smiling, flung them all into Byssa's lap, whispering 
 something in her ear as if it were to be kept a secret 
 from the very stones. Byssa flushed crimson and 
 snatched up one of the sandals lying by her side to 
 make a feint of punishing her friend ; but, as she raised 
 her arm, the sandal slipped from her hand and flew far 
 out in the water. 
 
 There was a general outburst of screams and laugh- 
 ter. 
 
 Byssa started up, shaking all the flowers from her 
 lap on the ground, hastily gathered up the folds of her
 
 T,6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 garments, and waded out into the stream. But the 
 current had already swept the sandal into somewhat 
 deeper water, so that, to avoid being wet, she was 
 obliged to lift her clothes above her knees. She soon 
 perceived that the task was not so easy. Every time 
 she stretched out her hand she was baffled. The little 
 whirlpools in the stream played sportively with their 
 prize ; each moment they bore the sandal under their, 
 light foam, and when it again appeared it was in an 
 entirely different place from where its owner ex- 
 pected. 
 
 A cold wind was blowing and Byssa, like many of 
 her companions, wore a goat-skin bodice. As she had 
 become heated by the long walk she allowed it to hang 
 loosely about her, and every time the pretty Cychrean 
 bent forward to grasp the sandal, Periphas' gaze could 
 take a dangerous liberty. 
 
 Of all the materials that can be used for clothing, 
 nothing displays better than fur the smoothness and 
 fairness of a woman's form. At the sight of the beau- 
 tiful shoulders and still more exquisite bosom rising 
 from the rough, blackish-brown skin Periphas' eyes 
 dilated, and when Byssa's movements, ere she succeeded 
 in seizing the sandal, revealed more and more of her 
 nude charms, the half-savage Pelasgian's passionate 
 heart kindled. 
 
 He cast a hurried glance towards the spot where 
 the men had vanished and, as he neither saw nor heard 
 anything, he took a large green leaf between his lips to 
 hide the lower part of his face, drew his hood down to
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 37 
 
 his eyes, burst suddenly out of the bushes and leaped 
 from the shore into the stream. 
 
 The women, shrieking with terror, instantly sprang 
 to their feet. 
 
 But Periphas paid no heed. Seizing Byssa, who 
 was paralyzed by surprise, in his arms, he bore her, 
 spite of her struggles, to the shore. Like all well-de- 
 veloped women she was no light burden and, notwith- 
 standing the Pelasgian's strength, he felt that it would 
 be impossible for him to carry her up the steep bank 
 and therefore put her down, though without releasing 
 his hold on her arm. But Byssa no sooner felt the 
 solid earth under her feet than her senses returned. 
 
 " Help ! Help !" she screamed. " Shall we fear 
 this one man ? Are we not strong enough to capture 
 him?" 
 
 And, following words by action, she boldly grasped 
 the Pelasgian's belt with her left hand, which was 
 free. 
 
 " Quick ! quick !" she added. " Only hold him a 
 moment — the men will return directly." 
 
 Byssa's courage produced its effect. The women 
 hurried towards her from all sides; yet the nearest 
 gave themselves considerably more time than those 
 who were farther away. 
 
 Periphas perceived that his position was very criti- 
 cal. Without releasing Byssa's arm, he drew his 
 sword. 
 
 " Beware!" he shouted fiercely, " I'll hew down on 
 the spot the first one who approaches."
 
 38 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 And, as Byssa still did not loosen her grasp from 
 his belt, he muttered between his teeth. 
 
 " Follow me, or by Zeus. . . ." He did not finish 
 the sentence, but his sinister glance left no doubt of his 
 meaning. 
 
 Byssa trembled, for she thought of the soothsayer 
 of whose death she had heard. 
 
 " You are the stronger !" she said, and allowed her- 
 self to be led up the bank without resistance. 
 
 At the top Periphas turned and shouted : 
 
 " Women, the first one who shows herself here I'll 
 give up to my bondmen." 
 
 But the Pelasgian had nothing more to fear. The 
 sight of the naked sword had banished the women's 
 courage. 
 
 He now carried Byssa among some small hills, 
 where a low, two-wheeled vehicle, drawn by two 
 horses, was waiting under the charge of a slave. " Get 
 in !" said Periphas imperiously, then, to render her more 
 yielding, added : " No harm shall befall you ! I only 
 want you to serve me as a hostage." 
 
 " I will obey," replied Byssa, " but on condition 
 that you don't lay hands on me again." 
 
 She took her place in the front of the chariot, rest- 
 ing both hands on the top. Periphas grasped the reins, 
 dismissed the slave by a sign, braced his feet firmly 
 against the inner foot-board and, standing behind his 
 enemy's wife, gave his steeds the rein, swung the whip 
 — and off they rattled over stock and stone.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 39 
 
 XL 
 
 Meantime the men had wandered a considerable 
 distance from the fountain. The youths succeeded in 
 driving the hare into a snare, whose owner thought he 
 had exclusive right to it, while those who had driven 
 it into the trap demanded a share of the prize. When 
 the older people came up their opinions differed and, 
 amid the dispute, they did not notice the screams of 
 the women, especially as they often shrieked in sporf 
 when they splashed water upon each other. 
 
 Suddenly a very young girl, scarcely beyond child- 
 hood, came running towards them, beckoning with 
 agitated gestures while still a long way off. The men 
 suspected that something unusual must have happened 
 and hurried to meet the messenger, though without for- 
 getting the hare. Weeping bitterly, she told them 
 what had occurred. 
 
 Her hearers were filled with alarm. 
 
 " Byssa carried off!" exclaimed the oldest. "Woe 
 betide us ! Woe betide us ! Curses on the hare, it is 
 the cause of the whole misfortune." 
 
 The walk home from the fountain was very differ- 
 ent from usual. 
 
 In those days it was not well to be the bearer of 
 evil tidings. Lyrcus' outbursts of fury were well 
 known ; it was also known how passionately he loved 
 Byssa, and no one felt the courage to tell him what had
 
 40 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 happened. Yet it was necessary that he should hear 
 it. 
 
 The party had almost reached the Cychrean cliff, 
 and still no plan had been formed. But an unexpected 
 event ended their indecision. 
 
 Lyrcus came to meet the returning band. 
 
 He had just finished his task of forging and, after 
 standing in the heat and smoke, it was doubly pleasant 
 to breathe the cool sea-breeze. He had never felt 
 more joyous and hght-hearted. 
 
 " How silent you are !" he called as he advanced. 
 " Have the women lost their voices ? By Pan, that 
 would be the greatest of miracles." 
 
 But when he came nearer, seeing their troubled 
 faces, he himself became grave, and with the speed of 
 Hghtning his glance sought Byssa. 
 
 The men, one by one, slunk behind the women. 
 
 " Where is Byssa ?" said Lyrcus. 
 
 No one answered. 
 
 He now put the same question to a very young 
 girl, who chanced to be the same one who had rushed 
 from the fountain to meet the men and brought the ill- 
 omened message. 
 
 Startled by the unexpected query, she turned pale 
 and vainly tried to answer; her throat seemed 
 choked. 
 
 Lyrcus seized her firmly by the arm. 
 
 " Speak, luckless girl, speak !" he said. " What 
 have you to tell ?" 
 
 The girl strove to collect her thoughts, and in fal-
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 4I 
 
 tering words said that a Pelasgian had sprung out of 
 the thicket and carried Byssa away. 
 
 Then, falHng at Lyrcus' feet, she clasped her hands 
 over the knife he wore in his belt, shrieking : 
 
 " Don't kill me. I did nothing. . . ." 
 
 " Where were the men ?" asked Lyrcus sternly. 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 Where were the men ?" Lyrcus repeated, in a tone 
 which demanded an answer. 
 
 The girl clasped his knees imploringly. 
 
 " They had gone hunting," she whispered almost 
 inaudibly. 
 
 Several minutes passed ere Lyrcus opened his lips. 
 The men wished the earth would swallow them ; but 
 their chief's thoughts were already far from their negli- 
 gence. 
 
 " Who was the Pelasgian ?" he asked with a calm- 
 ness which, to those who knew him, boded danger. 
 
 No one replied. 
 
 At last the young wife who had flung the flowers 
 into Byssa's lap stepped forward, drew the kneeling 
 girl away and, without raising her eyes to Lyrcus, said 
 with a faint blush : 
 
 " No one knew the ravisher. He held in his mouth 
 a green leaf which concealed his face. But Byssa was 
 forced to obey him or she would have been killed before 
 our eyes. He drew his sword. . . . Directly after we 
 heard a chariot roll away." 
 
 " A chief then !" said Lyrcus, and without another 
 word he returned by the same way he had come.
 
 42 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Lyrcus was too good a hunter to have any doubt 
 what he should do. Going directly home he unfas- 
 tened Bremon, led him into the house, and let him 
 snuff Byssa's clothes, repeating : 
 
 " Where is she ? Where is Byssa ?" 
 
 The dog uttered a low whine, put his muzzle to the 
 ground and snuffed several times, wagging his tail con- 
 stantly as if to show that he knew what was wanted. 
 Lyrcus buckled his sword around his waist, seized a 
 spear and shield, flung a cloak over his arm and led 
 Bremon out. 
 
 The dog fairly trembled with impatience, and with- 
 out once losing the trail guided Lyrcus, who held his 
 chain, directly to the fountain of Callirhoe. 
 
 Here he followed the bank of the river a short dis- 
 tance but suddenly, as if at a loss, began to run to and 
 fro in all directions. 
 
 Lyrcus released the animal but, as it constantly ran 
 down to the bank and snuffed the water, the chief per- 
 ceived that Byssa must have waded out into the 
 stream. So he led Bremon along the shore, hoping to 
 find the place where she had come out on the land. 
 
 Suddenly the dog stopped, snuffed, and began to 
 wag his tail again. This was the spot where Periphas 
 had put Byssa down after having carried her to the 
 bank. Bremon now led Lyrcus away from the brink 
 among some low hills, but here once more he began to 
 run to and fro irresolutely — doubtless where Byssa 
 had entered the chariot. 
 
 Meantime night had closed in.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 43 
 
 Lyrcus at first thought of getting a torch, but soon 
 perceived the impossibihty of following the trail of the 
 chariot by torch-light. There vvas nothing to be done 
 except to wait for morning. 
 
 It was a time of terrible torture. 
 
 Byssa in a stranger's power! At the thought he 
 was seized with a frenzy of rage that almost stifled him. 
 But whither should he turn ? Who was the ravisher — 
 Periphas ? No, he would not have had courage for 
 such a deed directly after a defeat. Besides, the ab- 
 ductor seemed to have gone in the opposite direction 
 to the road to Periphas' home. 
 
 Lyrcus did not know that the Pelasgian had con- 
 cealed himself in a cave in Mt. Hymettus. 
 
 XII. 
 
 While Lyrcus allowed himself to be led by Bremon, 
 Periphas was continuing his wild career. At the foot 
 of a distant height of Hymettus he gave the chariot to 
 a slave and ascended the mountain with Byssa, who 
 had remained perfectly silent during the whole ride. 
 
 At the entrance of the cave Periphas cast a stolen 
 glance at her. The young wife's face was clouded and 
 threatening; not only the expression of her features, 
 but her bearing and movements showed that she was 
 filled with burning wrath. She resembled at this 
 moment an incensed swan, darting along with half-
 
 44 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 spread wings, every feather ruffled in rage. Periphas 
 perceived that he must try to soothe her. 
 
 He led her into a room in the cave where a clay 
 lamp was burning and on a large flat stone stood 
 dishes containing barley bread, fruit, honey, and milk. 
 
 " Do not grieve, fair Byssa," he said, " A man 
 must secure himself against such a foe as Lyrcus. ..." 
 
 " By stealing women ?" Byssa contemptuously in- 
 terrupted. " Is that the custom among the Pelasgians ? 
 Lyrcus carried home neither maids nor matrons." 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied Periphas calmly. " But the 
 Pelasgians have made war upon the Cychreans and 
 were defeated. As one of the chiefs who took up arms, 
 I have everything to fear. So I sought a hostage, and 
 where could I find a better one than the woman who 
 is most dear to Lyrcus ?" 
 
 " Your tongue is smooth, Periphas ! But I do not 
 trust you." 
 
 " What do you fear, Byssa ? Hostages are sacred; 
 you are as secure as if you were under a father's roof" 
 
 " And Lyrcus ! Will he have no suspicion ? Will 
 he think I have been under a father's roof?" 
 
 "You will tell him so, and he will believe you. 
 The inside of the cave is yours; no one shall molest 
 you. You will be compelled to stay here only a few 
 days, until everything is arranged between the Pelas- 
 gians and Cychreans." 
 
 Byssa gazed sullenly into vacancy. 
 
 " Beware, Periphas !" she said. " This will surely 
 bring misfortune."
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 45 
 
 " To you or to me ?" asked Periphas. 
 
 " That I do not know," replied Byssa. " But one 
 thing I do know. It will cause bloodshed." 
 
 Periphas shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Look," he said, pointing to a bear-skin couch, 
 " you can rest here in safety ; you must be weary. 
 May the gods grant you pleasant dreams — in the 
 morning everything will seem brighter." 
 
 With these words he left her, went to the outer 
 part of the cavern, passed through the entrance, and 
 walking several paces away clapped his hands. 
 
 There was a rustling sound among the huge piles 
 of mouldering debris above the cavern. A dark figure 
 clad in skins, with a huge staff in his hand, stood out- 
 lined against the grey evening sky. It was the herds- 
 man who supplied the cave with provisions. 
 
 " Have you done what I ordered ?" asked Periphas. 
 " Have you put sentinels on both sides and brought 
 the men ?" 
 
 "When you sound the horn, Periphas, twenty Pe- 
 lasgians will hasten to your aid." 
 
 " Do they know Lyrcus, the Cychrean ?" 
 
 " Not all of them, but some do." 
 
 " Very well. When he comes, the men must hide 
 until he is half-way between them. Then let him be 
 surrounded. I will make the man rich who brings me 
 Lyrcus alive or dead. Tell the warriors so." 
 
 Periphas then entered the cave and lay down on 
 the couch of skins flung behind the boulder projecting 
 at the entrance. It was a still, star-lit evening, yet
 
 46 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 spite of the peace and silence without, a strange rest- 
 lessness seized upon him. Sometimes he felt a pre- 
 sentiment of impending misfortune, at others he exulted 
 in the thought of having Byssa in his power. Thanks 
 to the green leaf he had held in his mouth when he 
 carried her away, none of the Cychreans had recog- 
 nized him. But so long as Lyrcus knew not where to 
 turn he would not summon the warriors. He would 
 pursue his quest alone and fall into the ambush. At 
 the thought Periphas rubbed his hands and became ab- 
 sorbed in planning how he should best humiliate his 
 captive. 
 
 The night was far advanced ere the Pelasgian 
 leader fell asleep. A strange dream visited him. It 
 seemed as if he were with Byssa — when he felt a hand 
 on his shoulder. The soothsayer whom he had mur- 
 dered stood before him, pale and rigid, with a dark 
 l)lood-stain on his white robes. Periphas stretched out 
 his hand to keep him off, touched his own body, felt 
 with horror an icy, corpse-like chill, opened his eyes, 
 and was broad awake. 
 
 As he rose he accidentally laid his hand on the 
 boulder at the entrance. It was dank with the night- 
 dew, and he again felt a chill. 
 
 " It was only the rock," he muttered, with inex- 
 pressible relief 
 
 The clear dawn brooded over the land like a soft 
 grey gleam. The mountains were wrapped in clouds 
 and vapor and the swallows were twittering. Periphas 
 breathed the fresh morning air and felt strengthened
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 47 
 
 and inspirited. His first thought was that in the cave, 
 only a few paces firom him, he had the fairest woman 
 in the Cychrean city, the woman whom he had once 
 wooed, and who had been given to another. 
 
 Doubtless she, like himself, had at last fallen asleep 
 from weariness. He must go to her, see her. 
 
 With a slight shiver, caused by emotion more than 
 by the chill air of the morning, he bound a goat-skin 
 around his loins, buckled a belt about his waist, thrust 
 his knife into it and with bare feet stole noiselessly 
 into the cave. 
 
 xni. 
 
 At every step Periphas took the darkness increased, 
 and the lamplight in the inner room was but a feeble 
 substitute for the dawning day. Yet he instantly dis- 
 tinguished the light figure which lay extended on the 
 black skin. 
 
 Byssa slept resting on her side, with her face half 
 averted. Instead of lying on the couch wholly un- 
 dressed, with her garments loosely thrown over her, 
 she had, probably from fear of some nocturnal visitor, 
 retained her white kirtle and spread the goat-skin bod- 
 ice over her breast. 
 
 Holding his breath, Periphas stole to the couch 
 with a throbbing heart. 
 
 Byssa's head rested on her round arm and her long 
 black hair flowed down in two streams, one behind her
 
 40 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 shoulders, the other over her neck, where it was lost in 
 the swelhng outhnes of the bust, only the upper portion 
 of which could be seen above the shaggy edge of the 
 bodice. The troubled expression of her features had 
 given place to a sweet repose, which harmonized per- 
 fectly with the unconstrained grace of her recumbent 
 attitude. Her cheeks were still somewhat paler than 
 usual, but her half-parted lips were ruddy with the 
 freshness of youth. In her slumber she had drawn her 
 limbs under her in a peculiarly feminine way, and from 
 the sea of white folds formed by her garments appeared 
 a naked foot as smooth and plump as a child's. 
 
 Periphas bent softly over the sleeper and listened to 
 her calm, regular breathing. He felt like a thief who 
 dreads being caught, and thought with terror that she 
 might open her eyes. But when his glance fell upon 
 the white foot that peeped from under the garments, he 
 mentally compared Byssa to the Pelasgian women who, 
 according to ancient custom, climbed the mountains to 
 bring the shepherds food, and with their brown skins 
 and muscular figures closely resembled beasts of bur- 
 den. He could not avert his gaze from the bare foot. 
 It seemed to him a perfect marvel and, even at the 
 risk of waking Byssa, he could not refrain from touch- 
 ing it. Slowly and cautiously extending his huge hand, 
 he took hold of it as gently as if it had been a little 
 bird. 
 
 Byssa started and sat erect on the couch. Half- 
 stupefied by sleep, she pushed her long hair back from 
 her eyes with both hands, but scarcely had she recog-
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 49 
 
 nized the Pelasgian when with a loud shriek she 
 thrust him away. 
 
 " Wretch !" she exclaimed as she sprang up almost 
 frantic with terror and fled. 
 
 At the entrance of the cave she felt herself seized 
 and stopped. She turned. 
 
 Periphas was a terrible spectacle ; his brown cheeks 
 were deeply flushed and his eyes flashed like a wild- 
 cat's. 
 
 " Woman !" he gasped breathlessly, in a voice trem- 
 ulous with passion. " You are in my power. . . . you 
 shall obey me." 
 
 But Byssa bent backward over his arm to get as 
 far away from him as possible. At that instant, she 
 remembered her father's parting charge : " Do not 
 abandon Zeus Hypsistos, that Zeus Hypsistos may not 
 abandon you." 
 
 She called loudly upon the god's name. 
 
 Periphas laughed. 
 
 '5 Zeus is far away," he said. 
 
 Byssa gazed wildly around the cave, expecting to 
 see Lyrcus appear with spear and shield. But no 
 living creature was visible far or near — naught save 
 clouds and mountains. 
 
 Again Periphas laughed. 
 
 " No one is coming," he murmured. " If you want 
 to be saved, help yourself" 
 
 The words darted into Byssa's brain like a flash of 
 lightning. 
 
 Yes ! — it was " a voice of fate," a sign sent by the
 
 50 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 gods, an answer to her appeal placed in Periphas' 
 mouth, without his suspecting it, by Zeus himself. 
 
 A thrill of emotion ran through her frame and with 
 all the strength that animates a person who believes 
 himself acting in the name of a god, she snatched the 
 knife from the Pelasgian's belt and with the speed of 
 light drove it up to the hilt in his bare breast. 
 
 Periphas staggered back a step. He felt no special 
 pain, he lost very little blood, yet he perceived that a 
 change was taking place which could mean nothing 
 but death. 
 
 Turning frightfully pale, he tottered and covered 
 his eyes with both hands as though to escape a sight 
 full of awe and horror. 
 
 " The soothsayer !" he exclaimed. " I see him. . . . 
 in the midst of the darkness. . . . He is stretching out 
 his arms to clutch me." 
 
 Then, with failing voice, he murmured : 
 
 " That was the prediction. . . . that vile. . . . death 
 by a woman's hand." 
 
 As he spoke, without an effort to save himself, he 
 fell prostrate on the ground behind the boulder at the 
 entrance of the cave, clouds of dust whirling upward 
 around him. 
 
 Byssa, so brave a few moments before, trembled 
 from head to foot. Her knees could no longer support 
 her, and she sank down on a rock at the other side of 
 the entrance. 
 
 Her eyes, as if by some magic spell, were fixed 
 upon the figure behind the boulder. She saw the last
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 5I 
 
 convulsions shake the Pelasgian's shoulders; she saw 
 his hand clench in a spasmodic tremor ; she saw the 
 waxen hue of a corpse spread over his body — and 
 could not avert her gaze. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 How long Byssa sat thus she knew not. 
 
 She felt neither hope nor fear; she had no distinct 
 consciousness of what had happened. 
 
 A shadow passed before the entrance of the cave ; 
 there was a howl of joy, and Byssa felt herself pushed 
 against the cliff. 
 
 It was Bremon, who in delight at finding her trail 
 at the foot of the mountain, had snatched his chain 
 from Lyrcus' hand and now leaped upon her, over- 
 whelming her with caresses. 
 
 The dog's affection cheered Byssa's heart ; she 
 roused herself from her stupor and covered the faithful 
 animal with tears and kisses. 
 
 Again a shadow glided past the opening of the 
 cavern. 
 
 Lyrcus, armed with spear and shield, stood before 
 her, gazing wildly beyond her into the cave as though 
 his glance sought someone. Then he looked search- 
 ingly into her eyes, as if he would fain read her inmost 
 soul. 
 
 Byssa rose — her knees no longer trembled. As
 
 52 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 though answering the doubt in her husband's glance, 
 she pointed to the Pelasgian stretched in the dust and 
 said : 
 
 " I have killed him." 
 
 A shudder ran through Lyrcus' limbs and he stared, 
 as though unable to trust his eyes, at the lifeless form 
 lying in the darkness. 
 
 " Byssa !" he cried, stretching out his arms to em- 
 brace his wife. 
 
 But she shrank back, shrieking : 
 
 " No, no, do not touch me." Then in a low tone 
 she added : " Shall 1 go to Mekone to be purified from 
 the blood ?" 
 
 " For a moment Lyrcus made no answer, then he 
 replied : 
 
 " No. Go to your father. It was a righteous 
 murder." 
 
 When, a short time after, they left the cave Lyrcus 
 lingered behind and, unnoticed by his wife, drew the 
 murderous weapon from the wound and thrust it into 
 his own belt. 
 
 Scarcely had Bremen followed the pair out, ere in 
 his joy, he leaped and danced around them, barking 
 with all his might. 
 
 Instantly the whole mountain seemed to be alive. 
 The loose stones above the cave rattled again and, 
 urged by some dark foreboding, Periphas' faithful 
 herdsman hastily descended. At the same time, from 
 the nearest chasm on each side, emerged half a score 
 of armed men, yawning, rubbing their eyes, and
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 53 
 
 Straightening their skin cloaks, as if suddenly roused 
 from sleep. 
 
 The shepherd entered the cave, but instantly came 
 out again, looking very pale and troubled, as pointing 
 to the two retreating figures he shouted wrathfully : 
 
 " Seize them ! They have killed him. . . . with his 
 own knife." 
 
 The sleepy Pelasgians opened their eyes and several 
 recognized the Cychrean leader. 
 
 " It's Lyrcus !" they shouted to the other party. 
 
 " Let us surround him," was the reply. 
 
 The men approached from both sides and speedily 
 formed a circle around the departing pair. At each 
 step they took the ring grew smaller. Bremon noticed 
 the danger, showed his teeth, growled, and no longer 
 wandered away from his master. 
 
 " Keep close behind me, wife," said Lyrcus. 
 
 And, to obtain greater freedom of movement, he 
 took off his upper garment and flung it to her. Then, 
 crouching slightly behind his shield, he waited until the 
 difficulty of marching on the uneven surface of the 
 mountain should make a breach in the Pelasgians' 
 circle. 
 
 " Follow me !" he called to Byssa, and set off at a 
 run, but to give her time did not go at full speed and, 
 ere he knew it, he was surrounded. 
 
 With the courage given by superior strength Lyrcus 
 now tried to fight his way through. He felled two 
 Pelasgians to the earth, and Bremon furiously attacked 
 two others and made them unfit for combat. But the
 
 54 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 poor dog was soon killed, and Lyrcus needed all his 
 skill in the use of arms to defend himself. 
 
 Just at that moment a loud shout was heard close 
 at hand. 
 
 " Hold ! In the name of the gods, hold !" 
 
 A youth in full armor suddenly forced his way to 
 Lyrcus and covered hfm with his own body. 
 
 " Pelasgians !" he cried, " so brave a warrior ought 
 not to die thus. . . . one against many." 
 
 Lyrcus' assailants let their weapons fall and looked 
 around them in surprise. They were already out- 
 flanked by the young chieftain's men. 
 
 Several raised their voices : 
 
 "This Cychrean has killed Periphas." 
 
 " I know it," replied the youth ; " I heard the shep- 
 herd call to you. But Periphas fell by his own deeds. 
 He stole this man's wife." 
 
 Lyrcus had thrust his spear into the ground and 
 used his sword when his assailants pressed upon him. 
 He now drew it out and approached the young leader. 
 
 " Who are you, youth ?" he asked in surprise ; for 
 he perceived by the new-comers' arms and dress that 
 they were Pelasgians. 
 
 " My name is Nomion," the young man answered : 
 " I am a son of Hyllus, sumamed ' the old.' Ten days 
 ago he gave me the command of our tribe. A few 
 hours after I assembled the other chiefs to hold a coun- 
 cil. My most ardent desire is to estabhsh peace and 
 friendship between the Pelasgians and Cychreans." 
 
 Lyrcus shook his head.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 55 
 
 " It will be no easy task. There is blood between 
 us." 
 
 " I can smooth over Periphas' murder," said No- 
 mion, " but Tydeus' assassination is a harder matter. 
 How did he perish ?" 
 
 " He fell in a popular brawl one day when I was 
 away fishing." 
 
 Nomion nodded with a look of satisfaction. 
 
 " I thought that you were absent," he said. 
 
 Then, turning to his men, he shouted in a loud 
 voice : 
 
 " This Cychrean and his wife are free. They can 
 go where they list." 
 
 XV. 
 
 The day was far advanced when Lyrcus and his 
 wife reached Kranaai. Weighed down by the sin of 
 murder, Byssa could not enter the places of general as- 
 sembly and it was only with difficulty and by circuitous 
 paths that she approached the house of her father, the 
 priest Ariston. 
 
 The outer room was empty — Byssa entered and 
 silently seated herself beside the hearth. Lyrcus thrust 
 the bloody knife he had brought from the cave into the 
 earth at her feet. 
 
 Then he turned to go ; but ere he did so fixed his 
 eyes on Byssa with a half-anxious, half-pitying look. 
 Jie would gladly have extended his hand to her, uttered
 
 56 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 a word of encouragement. But he dared not. A fugi- 
 tive murderer, until the rite of purification had been 
 performed, was Uke a person plague-stricken. 
 
 Lyrcus silently departed. Byssa hid her face in her 
 hands, tears trickled through her fingers. 
 
 As she sat there quietly she heard the business of 
 the household pursuing its usual course. Her father 
 was whetting his sacrificial knife, her mother was busy- 
 ing herself with the hand-mill, and the female slave was 
 chopping wood outside. Then her mother began to 
 hum a hymn : 
 
 Zeus Ombrius, we pray thee 
 Gentle, fruitful rain to send, 
 Bless, refresh our native country, 
 Bid the torturing drought to end. 
 
 How well Byssa knew those notes ! Her whole 
 soul yearned for her parents — and now she must cause 
 them so great a sorrow. 
 
 She dreaded the moment when her father would 
 enter and see her sitting by the hearth, crime-stained 
 and unclean. How gladly she would have warned 
 him, that the surprise and shame might not kill the old 
 man ! But a single word from her lips might bring 
 misfortune. 
 
 So she remained sitting silently, hiding her face 
 with both hands. Then she heard a rustling, and a pe- 
 culiar dry cough told her that her father had entered. 
 
 A convulsive shudder ran through her limbs. She 
 dared not raise her eyes.
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. ^ 57 
 
 Ariston had come to put a vessel used to hold offer- 
 ings in its place in a recess in the wall. He was clad 
 in a grey garment, worn when he was occupied in the 
 house. As he held the dish up to the light to see if it 
 was bright his glance rested upon Byssa. 
 
 At the sight of his daughter, sitting humbly beside 
 the hearth, he stared at her as though she were some 
 terrible vision in a dream or a spectre risen from 
 Hades. He could not believe what he beheld — then 
 he perceived the knife thrust into the earth at her 
 feet. 
 
 His face blanched almost as white as his snowy 
 beard, the vessel fell from his hand, and he stood for a 
 moment as though turned to stone. Then he pressed 
 both hands on his breast. 
 
 " Horrible !" he faltered. " Byssa. . . . my gentle 
 Byssa. . . . has shed blood !" 
 
 Byssa's mother, Strybele, appeared in the doorway. 
 Uttering a loud cry, she rushed with outstretched arms 
 toward her daughter. 
 
 Ariston hastily stepped between them. 
 
 "Come!" he said, and with resolute authority led 
 his wife out of the room. 
 
 " Ariston," whispered the poor mother, " utter no 
 curses, no evil words. Remember, she is your daugh- 
 ter." 
 
 When Ariston returned he was clad in his priestly 
 robes. A long white garment fell to his feet, and he 
 wore around his brow a chaplet. 
 
 He approached Byssa. In the deep stillness of the
 
 58 ' PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 house the mother was heard sobbing and praying 
 within. 
 
 Ariston, raising his voice, said with great solem- 
 nity : 
 
 " Zeus was, Zeus is, and Zeus Avill be ; oh, supreme 
 god Zeus ! In thy name, Catharsius, cleanser from all 
 guilt, in thy name Meilichius, all-merciful one, I say 
 to. . . . this woman. . . ." 
 
 At the last word his voice trembled. 
 
 " This is thy command, oh Zeus. Purification 
 shall be given to him who comes humbly to ask for 
 purification. No one must ask his name, no one must 
 inquire the name of him who is slain ; for it is seemly 
 to keep silence in the presence of the unclean. But no 
 one, neither man nor woman, shall refuse to yield him 
 the blessing of purification." 
 
 Ariston then brought the animal to be sacrificed, a 
 tiny sucking-pig. The blood flowed from a wound 
 in the neck. 
 
 At the sight of the red stream he fixed an accusing 
 glance on his daughter's head and then raised his eyes 
 to Heaven, as though seeking refuge from inexpress- 
 ible agony. 
 
 " Woman," he murmured, " prepare !" 
 
 Byssa stretched out her arms. 
 
 Ariston held the animal before her and let the 
 blood stream down over her hands, repeating in a low 
 voice : 
 
 " Blood expiates blood." 
 
 Then he brought a basin of consecrated water in
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 5^ 
 
 which Byssa's mother, to strengthen its effect, had 
 placed a brand from the altar before the house. 
 
 Invoking Zeus as the god of purification and the 
 guardian of those who prayed, he washed Byssa's 
 hands and arms. When this was accomplished he 
 burned the cakes and other offerings, first pouring on 
 them as a libation water mixed with honey — mean- 
 time praying that Zeus would restrain the wrath of the 
 goddess of vengeance and show himself merciful and 
 gracious. 
 
 Then, taking Byssa's hand, he drew her up from 
 the hearth. 
 
 " My daughter," he said, " the blood is expiated 
 and the uncleanness washed away with consecrated 
 water. Thou art no longer an outcast, odious to the 
 gods. Thou canst again enter the places of assem- 
 blage and the temples consecrated to the deities ; thou 
 canst once more mingle among thy companions, amid 
 bond and free. But this is not all. Now that thou 
 hast obtained the forgiveness of the gods, thou must be 
 answerable to men. . . ." 
 
 Strybele anxiously entered, approached Ariston, 
 and seized his arm. 
 
 " What will be done to her ?" she asked. 
 
 "Justice." 
 
 " Will she be punished ?" 
 
 " Yes, if she has sinned. 
 
 With these words Ariston led his daughter into the 
 inner room. A cold perspiration stood on his brow, 
 and the muscles around his lips quivered. He who
 
 6o PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 had cleansed Byssa from blood did not yet know 
 whose blood she had shed. 
 
 " Speak!" he said, "and conceal nothing from us." 
 
 Strybele silently pressed her daughter's hand. 
 
 Byssa raised her calm black eyes to her father's 
 face and answered : 
 
 " I have nothing to conceal." 
 
 Then she related the expedition to the fountain, the 
 abduction, and the stay in the cave on Mt. Hymettus. 
 But when she spoke of her appeal to Zeus and the 
 sacred tremor with which, as swiftly as the lightning, 
 she had obeyed the god's sign, Ariston's eyes sparkled 
 and, bending low with his arms folded on his breast, 
 he said : 
 
 " Zeus deserts no one. But praised be thou, my 
 daughter, for having heard the god's voice. In saving 
 yourself, you slew the Cychreans' foe. The nation to 
 which thy husband belongs owes thee thanks and 
 honor." 
 
 Strybele pressed Byssa to her bosom and mother 
 and daughter, clasped in each other's embrace, wept 
 long together. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 At noon Lyrcus came back to Kranaai for his wife. 
 He found her reconciled to gods and men, gay and 
 happy in the reverent admiration of her parents. 
 Ariston was proud of his daughter's having received a
 
 ' ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 6l 
 
 sign from Zeus, and Strybele tenderly smoothed her 
 dark hair as though she were still a child. 
 
 The meeting between Lyrcus and Byssa was as 
 touching as if there had been a long separation. 
 
 On their return to the Cychrean city they found 
 the place of assembly filled with an anxious throng. 
 Several boys, while returning from bird-snaring, had 
 seen in the distance parties of Pelasgians moving 
 towards the cliff. 
 
 Lyrcus carried Byssa into the house and then, hur- 
 rying to the edge of the bluff, gazed out over the plain. 
 
 He had not waited long ere dark groups appeared 
 from between the low hills. There were more than 
 one chieftain's men. 
 
 Lyrcus was already in the act of calling his people 
 to arms, when his eye fell on several Pelasgians march- 
 ing in front of the others and among them Nomion. 
 The young chief held in his left hand an olive branch 
 and, instead of resting his lance on his shoulder he 
 carried it under his arm, with its point turned towards 
 the earth. 
 
 At this sign of peace Lyrcus felt great relief, and 
 the feeling was much strengthened when Nomion and 
 his companions left their men behind a bow-shot from 
 the cliff. 
 
 Shortly after the young Pelasgian, accompanied by 
 three or four other leaders, stood before Lyrcus. 
 When he had heard their errand he sounded the horn 
 five times as a signal for the assembling of the oldest 
 and most respected men in the tribe.
 
 62 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 After all had met and formed a large semi-circle in 
 the place of assemblage, Lyrcus stepped forward with 
 Nomion by his side. 
 
 " Cychreans !" he shouted, " listen in silence to 
 what this stranger has to say." 
 
 Then he asked Nomion to step on a block of stone, 
 where he could be seen and heard by all. 
 
 The young Pelasgian chief had laid aside helmet, 
 armor, spear, and shield. A gold circlet confined his 
 waving black hair, and a white cloak with a broad yel- 
 low border fell in graceful folds a little below his 
 knees. All eyes rested with pleasure on the handsome 
 youth. 
 
 " Cychreans !" he said in a clear, loud voice, " we 
 Pelasgians have come — if you agree — to conclude 
 peace and form an alliance with you." 
 
 A murmur of approval greeted the words; for 
 though the Cychreans had recently conquered, the 
 horrors of war were too freshly remembered for them 
 not to prefer peace. 
 
 " As you know," Nomion continued, " we live in 
 friendship with the Cranai. We now desire that there 
 shall also be a good understanding between us and you. 
 One of our chiefs, who was your bitterest foe, is no 
 more. He was a rich and distinguished man, and his 
 funeral will be so magnificent that it will be talked 
 about far and wide. A huge pyre shall be erected for 
 him and tall urns, filled with oil and honey, shall be 
 placed at the corners of the bier; sheep and oxen, 
 dogs and horses shall be slain and burned upon the
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 63 
 
 pyre. But one thing we will not do — we do not 
 mean to avenge his death. He is responsible for his 
 own deeds, and it is a just punishment that he fell by a 
 woman's hand. Since he had taken her for a hostage, 
 she ought to have been sacred to him." 
 
 " Yes, yes, the youth speaks the truth !" murmured 
 the Elders, and some applauded him. 
 
 After Nomion had explained his wishes more defin- 
 itely and some of the Elders of the Cychrean nation 
 had spoken, both parties agreed to conclude peace and 
 form an alliance for twenty years. 
 
 Lyrcus, with an impatient gesture, said : 
 
 "Then I can close my forge and break my weapons." 
 
 Nomion smiled. 
 
 " You don't mean that, Lyrcus," he replied, " for 
 what man is mad enough to prefer war to peace ? Is 
 not war like a tempest or an earthquake ? It turns 
 everything upside down. In peace the sons bury their 
 fathers, but in war fathers bury their sons." 
 
 To strengthen the compact a lamb was offered to 
 Zeus, to the sun, and to the earth — to Zeus and the 
 sun a white wether for the glittering masculine di- 
 vinity, but to the earth a black ewe-lamb as if to a 
 female deity that acted in secret. During the offerings 
 prayers were addressed not only to the three gods, but 
 to the rivers and to the deities of the nether world who 
 avenge perjury. 
 
 Finally there was a foaming mixture prepared from 
 Cychrean and Pelasgian wine, and during the libation 
 an invocation was solemnly repeated.
 
 64 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 "Oh, Zeus! oh, Sun, oh Earth! ... If any one 
 dares to violate this compact, let his brains and his 
 childrens' brains be poured out on the ground like this 
 wine." 
 
 Thus they sought to secure peace. 
 
 After the sacrifices were finished, several voices 
 shouted : 
 
 "Hail to Lyrcus! The honor is his — he trained 
 us in the use of arms." 
 
 " Hail to Byssa !" cried another, 
 
 " Honor to Byssa, Byssa the strong and brave. 
 She has received a sign from Zeus." 
 
 " She killed the man who brought war upon us." 
 
 " Hail to Byssa! We want to see Byssa." 
 
 Lyrcus smiled, yet his brows contracted in a frown. 
 He felt half proud, half jealous. 
 
 But the shouts became so loud and persistent that 
 he was forced to yield and hurried into his house. 
 
 When he came out again, leading Byssa by the 
 hand, every eye was fixed upon the pretty native of 
 Kranaai. 
 
 She wore an ample snow-white over-garment and 
 on her head a blue Sidonian veil, which encircled her 
 black hair like a wreath 
 
 Hundreds of voices greeted her with the shout : 
 
 " Hail, Byssa ! Avenger of thyself and of thy 
 people." 
 
 Byssa stood motionless, pale with emotion. Lyr- 
 cus made a sign that he wished to speak 5 but the 
 people cried : " No, no, let thy wife speak."
 
 ZEUS HYPSISTOS. 
 
 65 
 
 Byssa blushed and lowered her eyes, but she did 
 not lose her presence of mind. 
 
 A death-like silence reigned over the whole place 
 and, though Byssa did not speak loudly, every word 
 uttered by her clear, resonant voice reached the far- 
 thest ranks of soldiers. 
 
 " Cychreans !" she said, " women, it seems to me, 
 should be silent among men ; for only a man is fit to 
 answer men. Yet, since you give me liberty to speak, 
 know that I have only fulfilled a higher command. 
 So raise your voices with me and say : Praised be the 
 supreme god, Zeus Hypsistos." 
 
 Then a deafening shout was raised by hundreds of 
 voices. Even the clifis repeated : 
 
 "Zeus Hypsistos." 
 
 From that day Lyrcus never asked Byssa to accom- 
 pany the other women to Melite's sanctuary. And 
 when some talked of the miracles performed by the 
 goddess of the place he smiled like one who knows 
 better and said : 
 
 " Yet Zeus is the mightiest."
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 
 
 SECOND YEAR OF THE 89TH OLYMPIAD (423 B.C.)
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 
 
 I. 
 
 Callippides was universally detested in Athens. 
 Every one knew him to be one of the most dangerous 
 informers, who lived by extorting money from people 
 by threatening them with some ruinous impeachment. 
 
 When he entered a workshop, a hair-dresser's, or a 
 lesche, * any of the places where the citizens met to dis- 
 
 * A sort of portico, supplied with seats, and free to all.
 
 70 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 CUSS the incidents of the day or to drive a bargain, one 
 after another stole away till he was left alone. If he 
 bought a fillet from one of the pretty perfume dealers 
 in the market-place, she put his copper coins aside 
 that they might not become mixed with the other 
 money and so bring ill-luck to the day's receipts; 
 if he spoke in the street to a female slave who knew 
 the residents of the city she hurried off, and if he had 
 merely laid the tips of his fingers on her arm, she 
 rubbed it with the palm of her hand as though some 
 poisonous reptile had touched her. If he was seen in 
 any one's company more than once, that person was 
 known to be a timid man who was trying to flatter and 
 cajole him in order to be safe from him. In other 
 respects he led so solitary a life that a well-known 
 jester, the parasite Meidias, said of him that " the only 
 thing that stood near him was his shadow." 
 
 Yet there was one person in Athens who valued 
 him. This was Pyrrhander, the Ildmand, * to whom 
 he was inestimable in tracking the hetaeriae or secret 
 societies and who, when Callippides was mentioned, 
 used to say : " He's the best sleuth-hound in our 
 pack." 
 
 The sycophant was by no means frightful in his ex- 
 ternal appearance. On the contrary, he was a stately 
 man. Of noble lineage, he had belonged in his youth 
 to the select circle of the " gilded youth " of Athens, 
 and in the company of the young Eupatridae, Proxe- 
 
 * Ildmand — the red-haired, seems to have been a nickname for 
 Cleon, who at this time was treasurer, (Aristophanes, equites v. 901.)
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 7 1 
 
 nides and Theagenes, he had squandered his ancestral 
 property in a few years upon horses and chariots. At 
 every horse and chariot race he was seen among the 
 most excited spectators. No one could say how often 
 he had been thrown from his chariot while swinging 
 around the race-course, or how frequently a snorting, 
 foaming team of four horses had been driven over him. 
 The last time this had happened he had been kicked so 
 violently on the head by one of the steeds that he 
 always bore the mark of it. He was so severely in- 
 jured that the physician, Pittalus, had already sent a 
 messenger for the wailing women. 
 
 When Callippides regained his health, his passion for 
 horses and chariots was at an end. His fortune was 
 expended and, like so many Athenians of rank before 
 him, he now sold his last Samphora steed and bought 
 the sandals of a sycophant. With this foot-covering, 
 which made every step noiseless, he stole around the 
 market-place like a snake or a scorpion, listened to 
 backbiters, came behind whispering couples, questioned 
 slaves and soon became as full of unsavory secrets as 
 a marsh is full of croaking frogs. These secrets he 
 used for his own profit and the ruin of others. 
 
 In his almost deserted house in the street of the 
 Potters not far from the Pnyx, the market, and the 
 Prytaneum he had a strange, dismal room, whose like 
 was not to be found in Athens, and which he jestingly 
 called his Opisthodomus, treasure-chamber. The name 
 was no pious one and showed no deep reverence for 
 the gods ; for the real Opisthodomus, the apartment
 
 72 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 where the treasures of the state were kept, was a 
 sacred place behind the Parthenon and was placed 
 under the protection of Athene Polias, the defender of 
 the city. But Callippides only used this title when he 
 was talking to his faithful old Manes, a slave nearly 
 seventy years old who, like the house, had been a 
 legacy to him from his ancestors. 
 
 Whoever had expected to find gold and silver in 
 Callippides' treasure-chamber would have been greatly 
 mistaken. 
 
 The apartment was almost empty, the only fur- 
 niture it contained being an old arm-chair, a sort of 
 high seat with a foot-stool beside a little table. The 
 riches of the chamber consisted of the notes which 
 covered its white walls — all written in a firm, elegant 
 hand. They were found by the score, were as tersely 
 composed as possible, and were all accurately marked 
 with the day, month, and Archon's year. Over the 
 door leading to the peristyle were the following inscrip- 
 tions : 
 
 "POLYCLES, SON OF StRATON. " MANTITHEUS, SON OF CTESI- 
 
 ^* Accused of deserting fiom the " PHON. Accused of secret tin- 
 
 ''tuiiitary service. Sentenced '^ derstanding with the Spar- 
 
 " to the LOSS OF THE RIGHTS ^^ tans. Han away. Punished 
 
 "OF CITIZENSHIP, THOUGH '^ l>y the erection of a pillar of 
 
 "WITHOUT FORFEITURE OF " /;//(7WJ INSCRIBED WITH HIS 
 
 "PROPERTY. " NAME. 
 
 These and a number of other notes were written 
 with charcoal ; but directly over the entrance, in the 
 most conspicuous place in the room, there were a large
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 
 
 73 
 
 collection written with red chalk and embracing the 
 most severe and terrible punishments. The first and 
 second of these inscriptions ran as follows : 
 
 " STEPHANOS, SON OF EUCTE- ** NAUSICRATES, SON OF GLAU- 
 
 "MON. Accused of treason. "CUS. Accused of having 
 
 *^ Sentenced TO DRINK THE ^' tejnpted his step-7nother to 
 
 "HEMLOCK. "commit adultety. HURLED 
 
 "INTO THE GULF. 
 
 Yet in his way Callippides seemed to be an honest 
 man, for, little as it might have been expected, here 
 and there appeared a sentence whose result had gone 
 against him, as for instance : 
 
 "POLEMARCHUS, SON OF CALLIAS. Accused of 
 "fraud. Sentenced by the Forty to loss of the rights 
 " of citizenship and forfeiture of property. The 
 decree declared invalid by the dicasts of the 
 people because founded on the deposition of a false 
 witness. 
 
 True, this inscription was placed in the darkest 
 comer, where no one would easily seek it, and what 
 the record did not relate was that the affair had almost 
 proved a bad one for Callippides — so bad that Pyrr- 
 hander, the Ildmand, had required all his influence to 
 save him. But this concealment must be regarded as 
 an allowable military stratagem. 
 
 It is certain that the " treasure-chamber " rarely 
 failed in its purpose. Here Callippides used to bring 
 his victims, the unfortunates who were threatened with 
 a dangerous accusation. Scarcely did they find them-
 
 74 ■ PICTURES OF HELLAS, 
 
 selves here when, on some pretext, he left them alone. 
 As they read the gloomy records, read them by scores, 
 at first with surprise, then with anxiety, and finally with 
 increasing fear, there were few who had confidence in 
 the justice of their cause. As they stood there alone 
 with throbbing hearts, quaking with dread lest every- 
 thing which in a short time would belong to their Past 
 should make a fresh inscription on these ill-boding 
 walls, the written characters gradually began to run 
 into each other before their eyes ; the red letters 
 seemed to be inscribed with blood, and even firm, brave 
 men were ready, almost without exception, to come to 
 terms with Callippides without bargaining as to price, if 
 he would only promise to let the accusation drop. In 
 this way the "treasure-chamber" justified its name, 
 there was not a little money in it. 
 
 Strangely enough there was one place in the room 
 where a whole row of records was erased, leaving only 
 a dark stain on the white wall. It had happened in 
 this way. 
 
 From the first the old slave. Manes, had not liked 
 these notes. During the greater part of his life he had 
 served Philocles, Callippides' father. The latter had 
 been one of the most distinguished of the Athenian 
 citizens and had filled the most important offices ; he 
 had been commander of a trireme, inspector of the city 
 walls, and member of the Council of Five Hundred. 
 Messengers from tributary cities never came to Athens 
 without seeking him, to bring him costly gifts, as one 
 of her principal citizens.
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 75 
 
 The room in which he used to receive them was 
 the prettiest in the house, and richly furnished with 
 brass tripods, ivory couches, magnificent vases, and 
 Milesian carpets. 
 
 This was the apartment of which the son, Cal- 
 lippides, made so unworthy a use. Every time a new 
 inscription was placed on the walls which to Manes 
 seemed so sacred he felt as though he had received a 
 stab in his honest old heart. One day, when the num- 
 ber had again increased, he plucked up courage and, 
 without asking permission, he was beginning to wash 
 the walls as if merely intending to clean the room. 
 But he had scarcely commenced, when Callippides 
 came behind him. 
 
 Their eyes met. The master looked so sharply at 
 the servant that for the first time in many years the old 
 man's pale, wrinkled cheeks flushed. 
 
 " Well, well !" said Callippides drily and, without 
 another word, he seized the largest whip he had left 
 from the time of his passion for horse-racing and be- 
 labored the luckless Manes' back until the shrieking 
 slave clasped his knees and begged for mercy. 
 
 " Blockhead !" muttered Callippides, flinging the 
 scourge into a corner, " don't you know that these 
 notes are my livelihood." 
 
 From that day the old man never meddled with the 
 inscriptions. 
 
 Whatever the " treasure-chamber " brought in, Cal- 
 lippides had not succeeded in making a new fortune. 
 Men like him, with a restless mind and tireless body.
 
 76 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 only give up one passion to devote themselves to 
 another. He who, Avhen a youth, had cared for 
 nothing except horses and chariots, now, in his fortieth 
 year, could not see a pretty hetsera fasten up her dress 
 to dance without having his heart kindle with the most 
 ardent love. It was no longer Menippus, the horse- 
 dealer, but Philostratus, the go-between, with whom he 
 had business. Just before we made his acquaintance 
 it was said that, by a written agreement, he had hired 
 the key of Philostratus' garden gate for two months 
 that he might be able to steal in to visit his youngest 
 daughter, fifteen year old Charixena. This bargain, in 
 which the father had sold his daughter, was rumored 
 to have cost Callippides two bright staters.* It was 
 with the profit of his wiles, with blood-money, that he 
 paid for the key of the quiet room where Dionysus and 
 Aphrodite, the deities of joy, were to receive him. 
 
 But Aphrodite did not allow herself to be mocked. 
 
 Behind Callippides' house lay a garden which was 
 in a very neglected condition, so overgrown with 
 weeds that there was scarcely an avenue or path, and 
 the statue of Hermes in front of the house had fallen 
 and rested on one side. An old stone seat under a tall 
 leafy plane-tree was in better preservation, and here 
 Callippides used to seek coolness and shade during the 
 burning heat of noon. 
 
 While resting there one day, half drowsily turning 
 the leaves of a yellow roll of manuscript, he heard a 
 
 *A stater was about 20 drachmae — at that time a considerable 
 sum. An archon received for his daily pay only 2 drachmae.
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 77 
 
 door in the next house open and saw a young female 
 slave come out to spread a carpet over a prettily- 
 carved aidra (swing) which was hung in the shadiest 
 place between the pillars of the house. Directly after 
 a little girl seven or eight years old, dressed in white, 
 came skipping out and was lifted on to the rug by the 
 slave. But the swing had scarcely been set in motion 
 before it began to rock unsteadily and the child, grow- 
 ing impatient, leaned back in the seat and shouted : 
 
 " No, Chloris, not you ! Stop, stop ! My sister 
 knows how to do it a great deal better." Then the 
 little one began to scream with all her might : " Mel- 
 itta, Melitta!" 
 
 The sycophant, whose profession required him to 
 know everything, remembered at the child's call that 
 the young girl who bore this name must be a daughter 
 of General Myronides, who had recently inherited the 
 next house, and that she was reputed to be amechanos 
 kale, irresistibly pretty. So it was not without eager 
 expectation that he awaited her coming. Then he 
 heard a young girl's voice inside the house, singing ; 
 
 "Amid the vines, amid the leaves 
 Peer forth the lustrous grapes. ..." 
 
 The singer approached, and Callippides' heart 
 throbbed faster. 
 
 But he was not taken by surprise when the door 
 opened. Rumor had told the truth; for she was 
 beautiful, fairer than any woman he had ever seen —
 
 yS PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 half child, half maiden, like Polycleitus' bewitching 
 basket-bearers.* 
 
 She laughed so gaily and carelessly at her little 
 sister's impatience that her dark eyes sparkled and her 
 white teeth glittered between her scarlet lips, then as 
 the child turned, stretching its arms towards her, she 
 darted to her, embracing and kissing the little one. 
 
 "Swing me, Melitta, swing me!" cried the child. 
 " Chloris can't do it." 
 
 Melitta fastened the purple fillet tighter around her 
 black locks, removed the upper garment worn over her 
 red-bordered dress, and told the slave to carry it into 
 the house ; then, leaning forward, she put the swing in 
 motion. 
 
 So this was Melitta, the irresistibly pretty Melitta. 
 
 Callippides' glance rested as though spell-bound on 
 the young maiden with the dark eyes, smiling lips, and 
 slender, girlish figure. As she stood there in her light 
 robe in the shadow between the pillars of the house, 
 she was surrounded by such an atmosphere of purity 
 that it defended her like a shield against evil thoughts. 
 From the black curls that slipped out beneath the 
 purple fillet to the gold-broidered sandals everything 
 about her was full of childlike grace. 
 
 " Higher !" cried the little girl joyously, striking her 
 feet together till the sandal straps clapped. 
 
 * Basket-bearers. This was the name given to a chosen band of 
 citizens' daughters who, at the Panathenaic Festival, took part in the 
 great procession of the whole Athenian population. They carried on 
 their heads baskets containing offerings. A representation in marble 
 of these beautiful Attic virgins was the sculptor Polycleitus' most 
 famous work.
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 79 
 
 Melitta bent still lower to give the swing a stronger 
 push. This loosened the gold clasp that fastened her 
 dress at the neck, and the dainty dazzling shoulders 
 appeared a moment. 
 
 Callippides knew himself, so he was surprised that 
 no flush of passion had crimsoned his face. In the 
 midst of his secret agitation, he recognized this fact as 
 a sign that he was no longer the same man. 
 
 As Melitta soon after stopped the swing and helped 
 the child out, her glance fell on the next garden where 
 Callippides, half concealed by some bushes, stood mo- 
 tionless as a statue in the shade of the plane-tree. 
 
 Callippides was a tall, distinguished-looking man. 
 His dark hair and beard were cut by Sporgilus, the 
 best barber in Athens, and the blood-red scar made by 
 the horse's hoof on the crown of his head was partially 
 concealed by the hair which, in this place, had grown 
 somewhat thin. His features were dark and stern, but 
 in consequence of his arduous exercises in the race- 
 course, he had retained a bearing which made him ten 
 years younger. Like all Athenians of noble birth, he 
 paid great attention to his person and most frequently 
 wore a snow-white chiton or tunic of the finest Milesian 
 wool, with a blue over-garment of Persian kaunake, a 
 kind of costly rough woollen fabric imported from 
 Sardis. Down to the light soles which belonged to his 
 calling of sycophant he was, in short, in everything an 
 exquisite, a dandy, but in such a way that he did not 
 make himself ridiculous. His gait showed none of the 
 affected stifthess with which Athenian coxcombs tried
 
 8o PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 to attract attention, and he never carried a short staff 
 under his cloak nor walked with a fragrant Median 
 apple in his hands when he appeared out of doors. 
 
 Women have quick eyes. Melitta, with a single 
 glance, received an impression of his whole person. 
 The tall, grave, bearded man seemed to her to re- 
 semble her father — the only free citizen whom in her 
 monotonous life in the women's apartments she had 
 had an opportunity to notice. She let the child go in 
 first, and turned her head again. Melitta was very 
 fond of her father. She wanted to see whether she 
 had been right — whether the man in the next garden 
 resembled him. 
 
 At the young girl's movement a flood of joy swept 
 through Callippides' heart, and he became even happier 
 when he fancied he read good-will in the look with 
 which Melitta gazed at him. 
 
 The sycophant was not spoiled by good-will. 
 
 When Melitta had disappeared he walked towards 
 the house as if in a dream. At the sun-dial he found 
 old Manes who, bending over the pin, was in the act 
 of reading the hour. He looked intently at him but 
 the slave did not seem to have noticed anything. 
 
 Callippides went into the " treasure-chamber" and 
 took his seat in the arm-chair. He imagined that he 
 still saw Melitta with the purple fillet around her black 
 curls, with her dark eyes, smiling lips, and dazzling 
 shoulders. There was something in the girl's fresh 
 youth which moved his inmost soul. He, the volup- 
 tuary, who was ever seeking to devise some new pleas-
 
 ^HE SYCOPHANT. 8 1 
 
 ure, thought that the highest joy he could fancy would 
 be to hold Melitta's hand in his. 
 
 " By the Graces !" he exclaimed, " she is a living 
 human flower." 
 
 Suddenly it became evident to him that in a few 
 moments, a far shorter time than the water-clock re- 
 quired to run out, he had become an entirely different 
 person. A shudder ran through his limbs and — as if 
 afraid to hear his own words, he murmured softly : 
 
 " Callippides no longer belongs to himself" 
 
 When he again raised his head and looked at the 
 walls they seemed to him, for the first time, as they 
 had appeared to Manes. He did not like the inscrip- 
 tions, there was something about them which disturbed 
 him, so he went into the next room and threw himself 
 on a couch where he fell into deep thought. He lay 
 thus a long time; the day declined more and more, 
 the short twilight merged into the deep shades of even- 
 ing. When he roused himself and looked through the 
 open door the stars were shining over the peristyle. 
 
 He called Manes and told him to hght the lamp. 
 
 As he rose from the couch his glance fell upon his 
 foot-gear, v/hich, contrary to habit and custom, he had 
 kept on after having come in from the garden. At the 
 sight of the thin soles, the token of his trade of syco- 
 phant, he shuddered. 
 
 " How cold the wind blows !" he muttered as 
 though to deceive himself 
 
 Then he called again, thrust out his foot, and said : 
 
 " Manes, take off my soles, and " — he spoke hur- 
 
 6
 
 82 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 riedly — "burn them and all the others of the same 
 kind I possess." 
 
 The old man stood as if he were petrified. If his 
 master had been a soldier and had ordered him to 
 break his sword, he could not have been more dumb 
 with amazement. 
 
 " Don't you hear ?" said Callippides sternly. 
 
 Manes knelt before him, but his hands trembled so 
 that he was unable to open the buckles. 
 
 " You are growing old. Manes," said Callippides 
 more gently as though he regretted his harshness. 
 
 Then he put his foot on the edge of the couch to 
 unfasten the straps himself; but, ere he had touched 
 them with his hands, started up and, with two vigorous 
 kicks, hurled them into the farthest comer of the 
 chamber, where they fell on the ground with a clapping 
 noise. 
 
 " Did you hear ?" he said to Manes, " the dumb 
 soles spoke. It was their farewell." 
 
 Callippides then drew from his belt a key with three 
 wards which he gave to Manes, saying : 
 
 " Take it to Philostratus to-morrow morning." 
 
 Manes passed from one surprise to another. 
 
 " What shall I say to him ?" he asked timidly. 
 
 " That I have no farther use for it." 
 
 The old man scarcely believed his ears. He 
 clasped his hands, but dared not speak. 
 
 " What would you say, Manes," asked Callippides, 
 *' if you should see me some day with a helmet on my 
 head leading a troop of horsemen ?"
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 83 
 
 At these words the aged face brightened and the 
 old man fixed his eyes with almost a father's tender- 
 ness upon the master whom, when a child, he had 
 often played with on his knee. 
 
 " The day I see you leader of the band of horse- 
 men," he exclaimed, " the day the bridal torches. . . ." 
 
 Manes got no farther ; at the last word Callippides 
 started up and covered his mouth with his hand. 
 
 "Silence, old fool!" he cried sternly. "You are 
 talking about things which don't concern you. Do 
 you want me to tear your tongue out of your mouth 
 and fling it to the dogs ?" 
 
 The slave silently slunk away, trembling from head 
 to foot. 
 
 Contrary to his custom Callippides, during the fol- 
 lowing days, remained at home and did not fail to 
 spend the afternoon hours in the garden. But day 
 after day slipped by without his having the smallest 
 glimpse of Melitta. The door of the next house often 
 opened ; but it was only a female slave who came out 
 to gather flowers, pluck fruits, or bring in from the 
 garden the stuffs that had been washed. As each day 
 elapsed, Callippides became more and more depressed. 
 
 One night, as he sat half erect on his couch, unable 
 to sleep, he saw through the open door a narrow ray of 
 light which fell upon the flags in the courtyard. Sur- 
 prised, he rose ; the light came from Manes' room. 
 Fearing that the old man might be ill, he went to him 
 at once. 
 
 Manes was sitting working on a pair of sandals,
 
 54 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 whose Straps were not in the best condition. When 
 Callippides entered, he was evidently startled and con- 
 fused and tried to hide something behind his chair. 
 
 " What are you doing, Manes ?" asked Callippides. 
 
 " Putting new straps to a pair of old sandals." 
 
 " Whose are they ?" 
 
 " Mine." 
 
 "And these?" asked Callippides, taking from behind 
 the chair a pair of little sandals for a child seven or 
 eight years old, " are these yours too ?" 
 
 Manes silently tried to avoid his master's eye. 
 
 Callippides now understood something of which 
 hitherto he had not thought, and knew to whom he 
 owed the frugal meals which had been set before him 
 during the last few days. 
 
 Yet he said nothing. Callippides was a man of few 
 words. 
 
 He stood still a moment gazing silently at the old 
 slave, who scarcely knew whether he might venture to 
 continue his work or not. Suddenly Callippides laid his 
 hand upon his shoulder and said with a strange gentle- 
 ness in his voice : 
 
 "Go to rest. Manes; you have worked enough 
 to-day." 
 
 The old man seized his master's hand and kissed it. 
 At that moment he would have died for him. 
 
 The next day Callippides, contrary to his usual 
 custom, went out into the garden before noon. Some 
 presentiment told him that this time it would not be in 
 vain. He had remained there only a few minutes
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 85 
 
 when, through the half open door of the next house, he 
 fancied he heard a child's voice utter Melitta's name. 
 
 Almost at the same moment the young girl came 
 out, accompanied by an old female slave. Taking 
 from her hand a graceful jug, she began to water the 
 rarer flowers which were planted nearest to the house. 
 Then she searched for buds, removed the withered 
 blossoms, and tied up the drooping branches ; in short, 
 she busied herself a long time among the flowers, and 
 at every movement her slender figure displayed some 
 fresh girlish charm. 
 
 To-day she wore on her dark locks a gold clasp 
 which fastened a blue fillet above her brow, and her 
 white garment was trimmed with a double border of 
 the same color. It seemed to Callippides that the 
 young girl looked a little graver, but even more beauti- 
 ful than when he first saw her. 
 
 As she came to the clump of bushes nearest to the 
 next garden she perceived Callippides. The slave, who 
 was holding a red umbrella over her young mistress' 
 head, followed the direction of her glance, but had 
 scarcely caught sight of the sycophant when she 
 dropped the umbrella and seized the girl's arm as 
 though some danger threatened her. 
 
 Mehtta turned in astonishment, and the slave 
 hastily uttered a few words which made her mistress 
 frown. She seemed to contradict her attendant, who 
 became more and more vehement. 
 
 Callippides had sharp ears — he was a sycophant — 
 and the distance from the two speakers to the spot
 
 86 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 where he stood was only thirty or forty paces. First 
 he caught one of the slave's words, then more, until at 
 last he distinctly heard her say : 
 
 "As sure as you're General Myronides' daughter, 
 he belongs to the venomous brood whose pathway is 
 filled with curses, blood, and corpses. You can see 
 for yourself that he is marked by the wrath of the 
 gods ! Is not his shadow blacker than other men's ?" 
 
 As Callippides stood in the green dusk under the 
 plane-tree, with the white wall of the house behind 
 him, so dense a shadow really fell upon him that, from 
 the sunlit spot where the two women stood, it was im- 
 possible to discern the colors in his dress. 
 
 Disturbed by the slave's words, Melitta herself 
 fancied she saw something spectral and threatening in 
 the tall, dark man. With a shriek she dropped the 
 water-jar, gathered the folds of her robe around her, 
 and rushed into the house. By the terror with which 
 she closed the door behind her, Callippides understood 
 that it had shut between them forever. 
 
 Quietly as ever, though somewhat paler than usual, 
 he went back to the house. Sometimes he fancied he 
 again heard the door banged, and each time he felt as 
 though his heart would break. 
 
 The lonely and desolate condition, the seclusion 
 from intercourse with others in which he had spent his 
 later years had often weighed heavily, nay almost unen- 
 durably upon him, yet never had his heart been so 
 empty, so dead to all hope, as now. " Alas !" he 
 murmured, " everything might have been different, en-
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 87 
 
 tirely different — but it is too late." He gazed 
 steadily into vacancy, and his eyes expressed a sombre 
 resolve. 
 
 Soon after he had come in from the garden he sat 
 down to write, but twice tore up what he had traced 
 before he was satisfied. Then he made an exact copy 
 of it. 
 
 " Now it only needs the signatures of the wit- 
 nesses," he said to himself, as he put his seal-ring on 
 his finger. 
 
 After standing for some time absorbed in deep 
 thought, he took from a chest a flask with a wicker 
 basket-work covering called a lagynos. When he had 
 assured himself that it was empty, he smelled it and 
 was in the act of calling Manes when he suddenly 
 stopped. 
 
 " Why wash it ?" he said, looking at the flask with 
 a strange smile. " It can have held nothing worse 
 than I intend to buy." 
 
 Callippides then left the house, and did not return 
 until the evening. 
 
 Manes had scarcely lighted the double-wicked 
 lamp, when his master said in a curt, imperious 
 tone: 
 
 " Bring water, efface these inscriptions, and wash 
 the walls clean." 
 
 The old man would fain have hugged his master, 
 but he had not forgotten how badly he had fared when 
 he let fall a word about the hymeneal torches. Yet 
 never had he obeyed a command with greater joy.
 
 88 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Still, zealously as he worked, it was not quick enough 
 for Callippides. 
 
 With a restlessness very unusual, he wandered to 
 and fro hurrying the slave every moment. 
 
 At last the walls were partially cleaned, but the 
 water stood in great pools on the flagged floor. 
 
 " Let it stay," said Callippides curtly, " it will soon 
 sink into the ground." 
 
 Then he added : 
 
 " Come here. Manes !" and, after having gazed at 
 him with a long, earnest glance, he said with the same 
 strange gentleness as on the evening before. 
 
 " You have always been a faithful servant to me." 
 
 Something in both words and tone surprised the 
 old man. 
 
 " Is the master going away ?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " For a long time ?" 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied Callippides with a faint smile. 
 
 Towards dawn Manes had a strange dream. It 
 seemed to him that a vast shining Shape formed of 
 mist, with wings on its cap and heels, came floating in 
 to his master and took him by the hand. Scarcely had 
 this happened ere his master himself became a misty 
 form and both soared noiselessly away. 
 
 The old man awoke with a shudder. He felt a 
 chill on his brow as though wings were waving around 
 him, and did not exactly know whether he was awake 
 or dreaming. 
 
 Seized by a gloomy foreboding, he rose from his
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 89 
 
 couch. To his terror CalHppides' sleeping-room was 
 empty. The couch was untouched, the pillow had not 
 been pressed, and an old over-garment lay carefully 
 rolled at the foot. It was evident that no one had 
 slept there during the night. 
 
 When he entered the "treasure chamber," he felt 
 greatly relieved at seeing his master sitting in the arm- 
 chair. His head was resting against the high back 
 and his eyes were closed. He was apparently sleep- 
 ing. 
 
 The old man approached — a penetrating, dis- 
 agreeable odor, proceeding from a goblet on the table 
 reached him — the smell of hemlock. 
 
 He now understood everything. 
 
 "Dead!" he murmured, "dead!" he repeated, as 
 though he could not believe his own words. 
 
 Motionless and carefully attired as usual, CalHppides 
 sat in the high-backed chair he had inherited. His 
 dark hair and beard were redolent of perfume, there 
 was not a spot to be seen on his light robe, and shining 
 rings glittered on his fingers. The only thing which 
 showed he had fought his last battle, was that his right 
 hand was pressed against his side as if in an attack 
 of pain, while the left hung loosely over the arm of the 
 chair. His features were dark and grave, but neither 
 darker nor graver than usual, and a ray of the dawning 
 day cast a delusive semblance of life upon his pallid 
 cheeks. 
 
 Directly above him on the white wall were two 
 lines of an imperfectly washed inscription.
 
 90 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Manes, fixing his eyes on it, read : 
 
 " Sentenced to 
 
 " drink the hemlock.'^ 
 
 At the sight of these words, which stood there hke 
 the inscription on a tomb, marked by the finger of 
 retribution, tears streamed from the old slave's eyes. 
 
 " Zeus Soter be merciful to him," he murmured. 
 " He has sentenced himself!" 
 
 Directly after Manes saw a sheet of papyrus lying 
 on the table. Taking it up with a trembling hand he 
 read : 
 
 " Copy 
 
 OF 
 
 Callippides' Last Will. 
 
 " May all be well ! I hereby make the following 
 " disposition of my estate. The little rented dwelling 
 " in the Pirseeus shall be sold to the highest bidder and 
 " the money used for my funeral obsequies, which must 
 " be worthy of my birth. The tomb shall be built on 
 " the road to Budoron, opposite to the garden attached 
 "to General Myronides' country-seat, and the memorial 
 " stone is to be a plain column inscribed with the name 
 " and date of birth and death. Nothing more. 
 
 " I free my slave Manes and, as I have no relatives, 
 " I give him for his property my house in the Street of 
 " the Potters, with the garden belonging to it, on con- 
 " dition that he always takes care of the tomb.
 
 THE SYCOPHANT. 9I 
 
 " The papyrus furnished with a seal, of which this 
 " is a copy, is deposited with Philon, son of Sophilus. 
 " The witnesses are : Lycon, son of Hegesias, and 
 " Charicles, son of Theron." 
 
 By the side of the papyrus lay a note in which was 
 written : 
 
 " To Manes : 
 
 "Conceal the manner of my death, that 
 I may go to the grave unmutilated.* Say that you 
 found me dead in the chair. 
 
 In a box on the table is a ring with an exquisitely- 
 carved stone, representing Charis bathing her mistress 
 Aphrodite in the sacred grove at Paphos. Take the 
 ornament to Melitta, General Myronides' daughter, 
 and say to her : ' My dead master Callippides, your 
 neighbor, begs you to accept this ring, which belonged 
 to his mother. You can wear it without fear; from 
 the day he first saw you he has not been a sycophant.' 
 " To you, my faithful Manes, I say : Farewell, 
 and do not grieve. It is better to have poison in the 
 body than in the soul." 
 
 The old man gave free course to his tears. 
 
 As if in a dream he heard the birds twittering in 
 the garden ; the refreshing fragrance of the dewy ver- 
 dure entered, filling the room, and through the still 
 
 * It was the custom to punish suicides by cutting off the right 
 hand.
 
 92 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 morning air echoed nearer and nearer the rumbling of 
 chariots. Outside was heard the Achamians' usual 
 cry in the streets : 
 
 *' Buy charcoal ! Buy vinegar !" 
 
 The unexpected and the usual, stillness and awak- 
 ening traffic, death and life, blended so strangely in 
 this hour that the old man experienced a feeling he 
 had never before known. 
 
 Without knowing what he was doing he knelt and 
 kissed his dead master's hand, then clasping his own 
 he cried in his simple, honest fashion : 
 
 " May the twelve Olympians grant him every bless- 
 ing ! He was a kind master."
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 THE SECOND YEAR OF THE 9IST OLYMPIAD (415 B.C.)
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 I. 
 
 HiPYLLOS had not mentioned where he was going. 
 Old Myrmex, who accompanied him with a blazing 
 pine-torch, did not rack his brains to discover, but 
 trudged on with dull indifference, following his young 
 master step by step. His most distinct feeling was 
 that he was beginning to be tired. They had already 
 traversed the greater part of Athens, and at this time 
 — the year Chabrias was archon — Athens was a large 
 city.
 
 g6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Shortly after sunset the master and slave had 
 quitted Hipyllos' house, just inside the Acharnian Gate, 
 and passed through the length of Colonus, the most 
 northern portion of the city. Then they walked by 
 the " Big Stones" of the Acropolis with their numerous 
 niches for votive offerings, which may still be seen at 
 the present day. From the Prytaneium they had fol- 
 lowed the Street of the Tripods, with its temples of the 
 gods and huge brazen tripods, and had gone from the 
 Odeium down through the Theatre of Dionysus, over 
 whose orchestra people were in the habit of making a 
 short cut, as the huge building, with the exception of a 
 few festival days, stood empty almost all the year. 
 Next they had followed the Street of the Temples 
 along the southern edge of the citadel, where no fewer 
 than six marble temples gleamed through the twilight 
 shadows at the foot of the dark cliff. 
 
 Hipyllos had made this circuit to consume the time 
 until the lamps were lighted in the houses. The mo- 
 ment had now come, more and more points of light 
 ghmmered through the dusk. 
 
 From the Street of the Temples master and man 
 turned into a narrow alley, which wound between the 
 houses, trees, and garden-walls. There was and is still a 
 marked difference between the air in this quarter and 
 the atmosphere of the rest of Athens. South of the 
 Acropolis a refreshing sea-breeze usually blows over 
 country and city. 
 
 Hipyllos, inhaling the damp air with delight, pur- 
 sued his walk. He had a joyous face, and his whole
 
 THE HETAERIA. 97 
 
 person illumined by the red torch-glare made a striking 
 impression. His white upper-garment, adorned with a 
 blue border, formed a picturesque contrast to his sun- 
 burnt skin and black locks, and every movement of his 
 well-formed limbs was firm and steadfast, in harmony 
 with the expression of his face. 
 
 Old Myrmex did not care for the sea-breeze. He 
 was suffering from lumbago and, at the first puff of the 
 damp air, he took his torch into his left hand and 
 rubbed his side with the right — an act in which he 
 was not impeded by his clothing, which consisted of a 
 dark exomis, the usual garment worn by slaves, and 
 which, to give freedom of motion, left the right arm, 
 shoulder, and side bare. 
 
 About the middle of the street the way led close by 
 a side-building, doubtless the women's apartment of a 
 stately house that apparently belonged to a wealthy 
 citizen. From one of the sparsely scattered fhyrides, a 
 kind of air-hole, the light of a lamp streamed into the 
 darkness. Hipyllos paused. This light must have had 
 some peculiar charm for him, he could not turn his 
 eyes from it. 
 
 As if in the mood when some secret joy renders 
 men communicative he suddenly patted the old man 
 on the shoulder, saying : 
 
 " Myrmex, do you know whence that light shines ?" 
 And, without waiting for an answer, he added : " From 
 the room occupied by Clytie, the fairest of all Athe- 
 nian maidens." 
 
 7
 
 98 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Myrmex stared at Hipyllos with his mouth wide 
 open in amazement. 
 
 " Master, master !" he stammered, " what have you 
 taken into your head ?" 
 
 Hipyllos did not hear. But Myrmex feared his 
 master was in the act of committing some hasty deed, 
 and he knew that when a citizen was guilty of a crime, 
 but denied his offence, it was ordained that he should 
 have one of his slaves tortured. The law was based 
 on the belief that the slave would testify against his 
 master and, if he did not, the master's innocence was 
 proved. 
 
 As this did not seem to be one of the women who 
 led a dissolute life, but a citizen's daughter, a closely- 
 guarded maiden, Myrmex in imagination already felt 
 himself stretched on the rack, whipped with brushes 
 and scourges, tortured with thumb-screws, laden with 
 tile-stones on his stomach, and half-choked by vinegar 
 in both nostrils. So he repeated in a still louder tone. 
 
 " Master, master, what have you taken into your 
 head ?" 
 
 Hipyllos picked up a pebble, but just as he was 
 flinging it against the wall, as though in obedience to a 
 preconcerted signal, he saw two shadows on the red 
 curtain inside of the loop-hole. 
 
 " Aiboi I a piece of ill-luck !" he muttered, dropping 
 the pebble, " she isn't alone." 
 
 Then kissing his hand to the bright ray of light, he 
 passed on half reluctantly, farther in the direction of 
 the Cerameicus, the northwestern part of the city.
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 99 
 
 Myrmex did not think much ; but when an idea 
 once entered his brain he did not let it go easily, and 
 now asked for the third time : 
 
 " Master, master, what have you taken into your 
 head ?" 
 
 This time Hipyllos heard him. He cast a glance 
 at his companion and, seeing his troubled face, under- 
 stood the connection of ideas and burst into a loud 
 laugh. 
 
 " Poor Myrmex," he said, pinching the old man's 
 cheeks, " are you afraid of the thumb-screws ? Pooh ! 
 You'll escape ! This is no matter of life and death, 
 and a citizen can be compelled to have a slave tor- 
 tured only in an affair of life and death. . . . Have 
 you heard," he continued, mischievously, the story of 
 Killikon from Miletus ? He betrayed his native place 
 to the citizens of Priene, and when his friends, during 
 the preparations, asked what he had in view, con- 
 'stantly replied: 'Nothing but good.' Well then! 
 when you ask what I have taken into my head I can, 
 with still better reason, answer : ' Nothing but good.' 
 For the maiden belongs to a highly-respected family, 
 and I intend that she shall become my wife." 
 
 II. 
 
 Hipyllos walked on silently for some time, then 
 suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 " Myrmex, you don't know — no words can tell
 
 lOO PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 how pretty she is. . . . It's a Uttle more than a month 
 since I first saw her. She was returning home fi"om 
 the temple of Demeter, accompanied by her mother 
 and several slaves. The wind raised her veil and re- 
 vealed a face which, crimsoned with blushes at the 
 notice she was attracting, was the loveliest I had ever 
 seen. The young girl was tall and wore a snow-white 
 robe with a broad violet-blue border; her shining 
 black hair was drawn high above her neck, and over 
 her veil a gold clasp ornamented with a large blue 
 stone glittered on her brow. Her silver-wrought 
 sandal-straps fitted her small feet so trimly, that even 
 men usually blind to the secrets of beauty uttered a 
 murmur of admiration. Whenever the breeze- tight- 
 ened her garments, making her movements more 
 visible, her bearing showed a reserve and modesty im- 
 possible to describe in words and, as she passed, I 
 seemed to feel an atmosphere of freshness mingled 
 with the faint fragrance of some costly ointment. . . . 
 Never has any woman so bewitched me ! At night I 
 dreamed of her dazzlingly white neck and soft black 
 hair — heavenly powers, how pretty she is ! But you 
 don't understand me, Myrmex; I might as well con- 
 fide in the trees and stones by the wayside. . . . All 
 the young men she met turned — no one Avas content 
 with merely seeing her pass. Here, where the girls 
 spend their days in the narrow limits of the women's 
 apartment, it isn't three times in a man's life that he 
 meets such a maiden on the highway. 
 
 "As she and her mother approached the house
 
 THE HETAERIA. lOI 
 
 where we just saw the Hght shining, one of the slaves 
 ran into the Phalerian street to knock at the door, and 
 I now knew who the young girl was. The mansion 
 belonged to the architect Xenocles, and the maiden 
 Avas doubtless his daughter Clytie, whose beauty I had 
 often heard praised. At the comer of the wall the 
 wind blew stronger, so that the women were obliged to 
 struggle against it. Suddenly the young girl's veil was 
 loosened and flew away on the breeze. Uttering a 
 loud shriek, she stopped and covered her face with her 
 hands. Rushing on in advance of the rest after the 
 veil, which was whirling around in the air, I caught it 
 as it fell and hung on a slender branch. As I ap- 
 proached the young girl, who had let her hands fall 
 and stood blushing crimson, with eyes bent on the 
 ground, she looked so bewitchingly beautiful that, fairly 
 beside myself, I grasped the hand with which she took 
 the veil, exclaiming : 
 
 " ' Pretty Clytie, raise your eyes to mine ; for here, 
 in your mother's presence, I swear that you and no one 
 else shall become my wife.' 
 
 " The young girl turned pale and snatched her 
 hand from my clasp, but she did what I asked. She 
 raised her large dark eyes and fixed them on mine — it 
 seemed to me not with dislike. 
 
 " The mother, however, was very angry and thrust 
 me away, saying : 
 
 " ' Who are you. Youth, who dares to speak so 
 boldly to a modest maiden ? Clytie — your wife !
 
 I02 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 May all the gods forbid ! Know that her father has 
 promised her to another. . . .' 
 
 " ' By Zeus !' I interrupted, ' that other shall yield,, 
 were he the king of Persia himself.' " 
 
 Myrmex looked up at his master and laughed in 
 his beard at his audacity. 
 
 " The next morning," Hipyllos continued, " on the 
 walls, the bark of the trees, and the stones along the 
 roadside were the words written by different hands : 
 
 ' C lytic is beautiful. No one 
 is lovelier than Clytie. ' 
 
 " I alone did not write ; but, at the hour that 
 everybody was going to market, I rode my black Sam- 
 phora steed through the narrow lane. It was very 
 rare to hear the sound of hoofs there and, as I had an- 
 ticipated, the pretty maid appeared at the peep-hole. 
 Her room was where I had expected. She hastily 
 drew back, but I saw by her glance that she had 
 recognized me. The next day I again rode by. She 
 did not vanish so quickly ; but I didn't speak to her, 
 for I did not know whether she was alone. The last 
 time I rode through the street I passed close by the 
 house and laid a laurel-blossom in the loop-hole ; 
 when I came back it had been exchanged for a nar- 
 cissus flower, which lay where it could be easily taken. 
 I then sent Manidoros — whom you know: the bold- 
 est and most cunning of my slaves — to Phalerian 
 street. He speedily ingratiated himself with Doris, the
 
 THE HETAERIA. IO3 
 
 youngest of Xenocles' female slaves, and how happy I 
 was when one afternoon he came home and said : 
 
 " ' Everything has happened as you wish. Doris 
 told me that her young mistress has seemed wholly 
 unlike herself ever since she saw you. She weeps, 
 dreams, and murmurs your name. But the man to 
 whom her father has promised her — he is a great 
 orator and writer of tragedies — she hates worse than 
 death. Doris declares you have used some spell, and 
 that the girl is bewitched.' " 
 
 Old Myrmex shook his head. 
 
 " May all this give you happiness I" he murmured. 
 
 III. 
 
 The master and slave continued their way towards 
 the Cerameicus. 
 
 The district through which they were walking was 
 the most rugged part of Athens, and the eye every- 
 where met the proud outlines of steep mountains. A 
 few hundred paces on the right towered the Acropolis; 
 a little farther away at the left lay the Museium, and 
 five hundred paces in front the broad Pnyx and steep 
 Areopagus rose into the air. Most of these heights 
 were considerable cliffs and the two nearest, the 
 Acropolis and the Museium, towered hundreds of ells 
 above the stony ground where the road lay. 
 
 It was a bright, clear evening in the month Boe- 
 dromion. The wind was dying away ; but every time
 
 I04 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 a faint breeze swept by it bore a peculiar spicy odor 
 from the wild thyme that grew on Mt. Hymettus. 
 The crescent moon was high in the heavens. The 
 Acropolis, with the temple on its summit, appeared 
 like a huge, shadowy mass, against which the greyish 
 flanks of the Museium lay bathed in moonlight, so that 
 one could count the little white houses. 
 
 Suddenly from the distance a loud shriek of pain 
 echoed through the evening stillness and repose. A 
 man's deep voice moaned as if some one were suffer- 
 ing a torturing death-agony. More than twenty times 
 the: Oi moi / 01 moi .' (Woe is me! Woe is me!) 
 was repeated. Every syllable, every intonation was 
 borne through the soft air with peculiar distinctness. 
 A little later the sound became fainter till at last it 
 died away in a dull, breathless silence. 
 
 Hipyllos started, though he had heard piteous 
 wails in this place before. 
 
 The cries came from a part of the height where 
 there were no houses. The interior of the cliff was 
 doubtless inhabited, for about twenty yards above the 
 place where the road wound light shone through 
 twenty or thirty small holes in the mass of rock. 
 These holes, ranged in two rows, may be seen at the 
 present day, and inside of them lay — and still remain 
 
 — some ancient cliff-chambers, whose origin mocks 
 human speculation, since even that period — nearly 
 twenty-three centuries ago — possessed no knowledge of 
 whose hands had formed them or — if they were tombs 
 
 — whose bones had mouldered there. At that time
 
 THE HETAERIA. I05 
 
 these rooms were used for prisons, and many a criminal 
 sentenced to death was here — where no escape was 
 possible — compelled to drain the poisoned cup. 
 
 Hearing the wails reminded Hipyllos that "the 
 eleven " were in the habit of going at sundown to the 
 prison to loose the chains of the condemned criminal 
 and inform him that his last hour had come. The 
 hapless man then took a bath, and was afterwards 
 compelled to drink a goblet of hemlock juice and pace 
 up and down the narrow room until his limbs grew 
 cold under him. Then he was obliged to lie down 
 on the couch, cover his face, and await death. It was 
 during this torturing expectation that even the strong- 
 est man uttered lamentations. 
 
 Whoever knew this fact could understand the cause 
 when, as on this evening, shrieks of anguish echoed 
 from the dark stone chambers.* 
 
 Even Myrmex awoke from his indifference and spit 
 three times on his breast to avert misfortune. 
 
 " Do as I do," he said to his master, " keep ill-luck 
 away." 
 
 Hipyllos quickened his pace. 
 
 " I fear nothing for myself," he replied " and I 
 cannot aid the doomed man." 
 
 * Numerous subterranean rooms are found in the southwestern 
 quarter of Athens, the ancient clift city, which is now almost unin- 
 habited. A certain part of the eastern base of the Museium contains 
 three entrances, the central one somewhat dilapidated, that lead to 
 two rooms 10 — 11 feet in length and a well-like air-passage con- 
 nected with lower corridors. These cliff-chambers now bear the 
 name of he fy lake tii Socnitiis, Socrates' dungeon, and are marked 
 as such by oral tradition.
 
 Io6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 His features at this moment wore a serious expres- 
 sion which showed that, spite of his youth, he had seen 
 and experienced many things. 
 
 IV. 
 
 HiPYLLOs' father, Chaeretades, one of the guar- 
 dians of orphan children, was already advanced in life 
 when he lost his wife, Hipyllos' mother. After the 
 short period of mourning, thirty days, he married a 
 young widow named Cleobule, famed for her beauty, 
 but about whom nothing good was said in other 
 respects. Scarcely six months after, rumor asserted 
 that she was carrying on an intrigue with a young 
 Carystian who lived in the house. 
 
 The report reached Hipyllos' ears through the 
 slaves and, stirred to his inmost soul, he taxed Cleo- 
 bule with her infamy, but she called all the gods to 
 witness that she was unjustly suspected, and looked so 
 pathetic and beautiful in her despairing grief that 
 Hipyllos did not know what to believe. But, after the 
 Carystian had left the house, the caresses which, as his 
 step-mother, she could venture to bestow upon her 
 husband's son, grew warmer than was seemly and 
 when, at the great Panathenaic festival, he returned 
 from the procession clad in his holiday robe with a 
 garland on his hair, she ran to meet him, embraced 
 him, and called him her young Hippolytus, her young
 
 THE HETAERIA. I07 
 
 Theseus. He thrust her away so violently that she 
 fell on the tiled pavement of the peristyle, and from 
 that hour Cleobule pursued him with the bitterest 
 hatred. As he stood alone — Chaeretades was com- 
 pletely in her power — this gradually developed in his 
 nature a premature degree of firmness and resolution. 
 Nevertheless, he was obliged to submit to many things. 
 Cleobule finally alleged that he associated with disso- 
 lute revellers, and persuaded her husband to send him 
 to the fleet of twenty ships with which Phormion, since 
 the second year of the war, had guarded the mouth of 
 the Corinthian Gulf. 
 
 Hipyllos found the fleet lying off Antirrhium, oppo- 
 site to the Peloponnesian galleys. It seemed strange 
 to suddenly find himself so near the enemy that he 
 could hear the Spartan war-songs and see their spears 
 and swords ghtter in the sunlight. Aboard young and 
 old were confident of victory, for they had recently de- 
 feated a Corinthian fleet twice as large as their own. 
 
 The battle was not long delayed. 
 
 Early in the morning the Peloponnesians rowed 
 into the bay opposite Naupactus, a city belonging to 
 the allies of Athens. Phormion was hurrying after to 
 defend the place, when the enemy suddenly made a 
 circuit by which they intercepted and captured his last 
 nine ships. Hipyllos was on the eighth and, frantic at 
 falling into the hands of the foe, he shouted to a party 
 of Messenians from Naupactus whom he saw on shore: 
 
 " Messenians ! Will you calmly see ships that were 
 hastening to the aid of your city, captured by the
 
 lo8 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 enemy ? Help us save this one galley. When we are 
 once free, we will speedily rescue the others." 
 
 The men on land consulted together a moment, 
 then they waded out into the sea and assisted their 
 allies. But scarcely was the ship freed, when it rowed 
 to the next, and when two were rescued they easily 
 succeeded in recapturing the others, so that the Pelo- 
 ponnesians only kept a single one of the Athenian gal- 
 leys. Meantime Phormion had rowed farther on with 
 the remainder of the fleet, but, perceiving that the Pelo- 
 ponnesians kept no order, he attacked and routed 
 them, capturing six ships. The Athenians raised the 
 sign of victory, jeering at the Peloponnesians for doing - 
 the same. 
 
 Hipyllos was universally praised ; for he had not 
 only summoned the Messenians to the rescue, but had 
 fought bravely and killed a brother of Lycophron, one 
 of the commanders of the hostile fleet. 
 
 On his return to Athens Hipyllos found his father 
 on a sick-bed. Shame for Cleobule's misconduct, 
 which at last could no longer be concealed, affected 
 the old man like a slow poison. 
 
 Hipyllos' valor in the naval battle at Rhium was 
 his last joy. The very day that he had listened to the 
 account of it from one of the officers of the fleet he 
 breathed his last, holding his son's hand in his own. 
 Hipyllos mourned sincerely for his father. Cleobule 
 was more richly dowered by the dead man's will than 
 she had any right to expect, but was compelled to in-
 
 THE HETAERIA. IO9 
 
 stantly quit the hearth on which she had brought dis- 
 grace. 
 
 At the time we make Hipyllos' acquaintance he 
 was in independent possession of a fine house, numer- 
 ous slaves, and a fortune of more than thirty talents.* 
 The firmness he had acquired in the conflict with his 
 wicked stepmother now served him in good stead. 
 Having early learned to govern himself, he was wiser 
 than most of the men of his own age and did not 
 squander his property. When reproached for not 
 keeping open house for his friends and sending a team 
 of four horses to the games, he shook his head and an- 
 swered : 
 
 " Why should I waste my inheritance ? Some day 
 Athens will knock at my door, saying : " Give me a 
 ship for the fleet or a chorus for the theatre — then 
 will be the time to be open-handed." 
 
 V. 
 
 Hipyllos and Myrmex had now reached the 
 closely-built Cerameicus. But even the great market 
 which, half steeped in moonlight, half veiled in deep 
 shadow, lay outspread before them with its temples, 
 arcades, booths, altars, hermae, and statues — even 
 here there was little movement. 
 
 Most of the people had long since returned from 
 the gymnasia, freedmen and slaves had performed the 
 
 * An Attic talent was equal to about eleven hundred dollars.
 
 no PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 duties of the day, and after sunset children were not 
 permitted to play outside of the doors of the houses. 
 
 Yet life was not wholly silent. Laughter and song 
 echoed from the wine-shops, and the heavy grating of 
 the stone-saws was heard from many a sculptor's ; 
 for in those days sculptors had so much to do that 
 their slaves were often obliged to work in the evening 
 and part of the night. Ever and anon the hooting of 
 owls sounded from their countless hidden holes in the 
 cliffs and, as usual in the autumn, there was heard, like 
 voices from another world, the wailing notes of in- 
 visible birds of passage calling to each other in the 
 night as they flew at a dizzy height above the city. 
 
 Hipyllos turned into a side street, which led from 
 the superb street extending from the Dipylum Gate to 
 a long hill in the Melitan quarter. Here he told 
 Myrmex to extinguish the torch; then after looking 
 around him and listening, till he thought himself sure 
 that no one was following, he directed his steps 
 towards a solitary house at the foot of the height 
 which, seen in the moonlight, presented a peculiar 
 aspect. 
 
 It had a hyperoon or upper story which extended 
 only over part of the building and was reached by a 
 staircase on the outside. It was an old-fashioned, but 
 very convenient style of architecture, especially when 
 this upper story was used for guest rooms. In those 
 days, when taverns were almost unknown, nearly every 
 house annually received visits from distant guests who, 
 on the great festivals, came to Athens to attend the
 
 THE HETAERIA. Ill 
 
 processions and torch-races, or the performances in the 
 Theatre of Dionysus, Both stories were so low that a 
 man, by standing on another's shoulders, could have 
 reached the roof with a staff. Nevertheless, the house 
 had a certain air of distinction from being enthroned 
 on a huge limestone rock, in whose crumbling sides 
 ten or twelve steps were hewn. 
 
 As Hipyllos and his companion went towards the 
 dwelling there was a rustHng on the outside staircase, 
 and the figure of a boy with closely-cropped hair sud- 
 denly appeared outlined against the grey evening sky 
 — doubtless a young slave stationed to keep watch. 
 At the sight of .the approaching forms he began to sing 
 at the top of his voice, apparently to attract the atten- 
 tion of the inmates of the house, the beginning of the 
 old Harmodius chorus : 
 
 " Never has Athens possessed such a man, 
 Never did citizen so serve the city. ..." 
 
 Then he suddenly stopped and, in the stillness, 
 which seemed doubly as profound as before, a dog was 
 heard barking within the dwelling. Hipyllos went up 
 to the door of the house and signed to Myrmex to 
 knock with the copper ring. Scarcely had the heavy 
 blow fallen, when a frantic deafening barking was 
 heard, interrupted by a short howl as though the dog 
 had been silenced by a kick. A heavy step ap- 
 proached inside and a rough voice asked : 
 
 " Who knocks so late ?"
 
 112 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Hipyllos thrust Myrmex aside and, while he men- 
 tioned his master's name, he himself put his lips to the 
 door and replied in a low tone : 
 
 " Zeus Philios and Nike." 
 
 This was evidently a preconcerted watch-word, for 
 the door instantly opened. The door-keeper, a big, 
 strong slave, with dark-brown hair and beard, raised 
 the smoking lamp aloft and, recognizing Hipyllos, said 
 in a mysterious tone : " Xenocles and Acestor have 
 come." Then he led him across a courtyard only five 
 or six paces wide to a room from which echoed loud 
 voices and laughter. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Hipyllos raised the curtain hanging over the door 
 and entered a small, low chamber, hghted by a lamp 
 with two wicks placed on a high bronze pedestal. 
 The rest of the furniture consisted of four couches and 
 a table covered with goblets, wreaths, fillets for the 
 hair, and alabaster phials of perfume with necks sa 
 narrow that the ecious contents could only ooze out 
 drop by drop. 
 
 In this room were three men. Two reclined on 
 the same couch, half resting against each other, the 
 third stood before them with folded arms, talking to 
 the pair. One of the couple on the couch was a 
 small, white-haired, white-robed man, with a pair of 
 strangely brilliant eyes, the other was a stately person-
 
 THE HETAERIA. II3 
 
 age with long black locks and rings on his fingers, clad 
 in a showy yellow robe. The one who stood before 
 them was a large, stout bald man, with a weatherrbeaten 
 face and a grey beard, very plainly dressed in a grey 
 chiton, but there was something in his bearing which 
 attracted attention. He carried his head high, and his 
 whole outer man bore the impress of unwavering self- 
 confidence and unbending pride. He was evidently a 
 man of action, and had more than once held command 
 when the point in question was life and death. His 
 manner clearly showed that he was host and the others 
 were his guests. 
 
 When Hipyllos entered he advanced several steps 
 to meet him, patted him on the shoulder, and said in a 
 curt, loud tone : " I like a youth who comes at the 
 right hour — spite of chariot-races, dice, women, and 
 wine. By Zeus, when I was young — I always came 
 late." 
 
 Thuphrastos — this was the speaker's name — had 
 formerly been a captain of horsemen and was known 
 by the name of Codon, the barker. From asthma or 
 habit, he rarely uttered more than five or six words at 
 a time, and so abruptly that his speech really bore 
 some resemblance to a dog's barking. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" chimed in the little white-haired 
 man. " And I was often outside the house till late into 
 the night. But, though my father was only a poor 
 miller, he watched his household strictly enough. For 
 a long time I told our old slave-woman to put a pair 
 of dusty sandals outside of my door, so that he should
 
 114 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 think I was at home. One night, however, he found 
 the chamber empty, so that trick was over. Ah, I was 
 a young fellow then — it seems so short a time ago — 
 yet now I am old." 
 
 Hipyllos greeted the speaker with marked respect. 
 He was the architect Xenocles, the lovely Clytie's 
 father. 
 
 "Old!" repeated the man in the yellow robe — 
 the orator and tragedian Acestor — " old, don't say 
 that ! And, glancing at the others, he added " Spite 
 of his white hair, Xenocles is the most active man 
 among us. Like the swan, the bird of Phoebus Apollo 
 — he has no age." 
 
 " Hm," muttered Thuphrastos tartly, " don't listen 
 to him. Orators are cunning flatterers. Old friend," 
 he continued, laying his hand on Xenocles' shoulder, 
 " we both know better. Age is a sickness of the whole 
 body. We can — at a hundred paces — distinguish a 
 JCoJ>pa-sta.\\ion from an animal destined for sacrifice; 
 we can, if necessary, chew our barley bread, but — the 
 girls turn their backs upon us." 
 
 Hipyllos exchanged a cold greeting with the stately 
 Acestor, Clytie's acknowledged suitor. 
 
 The latter scarcely seemed to notice the young 
 man; for Hipyllos was not known by many, while 
 every child recognized the orator Acestor. He well 
 knew what pleased the multitude, and talked with 
 equal ease and fluency about campaigns, legal cases, 
 art, the working of mines, and the cultivation of vine- 
 yards. He was indebted for what he had learned
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 115 
 
 solely and entirely to his excellent memory — he was 
 far from rich enough to own a library. Books were ex- 
 traordinarily expensive. Three small treatises by Phil- 
 olaos, the Pythagorean philosopher, cost no minae.* 
 
 Whether from lack of will or lack of conviction, 
 Acestor was in one respect an incapable orator. He 
 could never control an assembly that was unfavorable 
 to him. Signs of disapproval from the majority com- 
 pletely upset him, clouded his brain, and made him 
 contradict himself Yet he was able to sway an audi- 
 ence as he pleased when sure of having his hearers 
 with him. He seemed created to delude credulous 
 folk ; thousands on thousands had applauded him, and 
 many thought that, as orator and debater, he surpassed 
 Antiphon the Rhamnusian, and as a tragedian he de- 
 served to rank by the side of the great Pratinas. The 
 more sagacious, on the other hand, held a totally 
 different opinion ; they said that he " puffed himself 
 up till the city was too small for him," thought his 
 voice shrill and his statements untrustworthy and as to 
 liis tragedy they remarked with old Cratinus that he 
 " ought to be flogged until he learned to write more 
 briefly." 
 
 His worst opponents went still farther. They 
 openly called him Carian or Phrygian, nay even gave 
 him the slave-name of Sacas — all to intimate that 
 they did not consider him a native Athenian, but a 
 foreigner who had smuggled himself into the list of 
 citizens. The punishment for this imposition was very 
 
 * About 1800 dollars.
 
 Il6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 severe, and consisted of having the hair clipped and 
 being enslaved. Yet nothing was more common than 
 for foreigners, nay, even fugitive slaves, to bribe the 
 recording clerks and be entered in the register of citi- 
 zens. A revision of this register had led to the per- 
 plexing, almost incredible discovery, that no fewer than 
 4,760 persons had insinuated themselves among 14,240 
 native citizens. 
 
 Hipyllos had not yet taken his seat when the slave- 
 boy's resonant voice was again heard outside. The 
 blow of the knocker on the door echoed through the 
 house, and the dog in the outer hall snuffed but, re- 
 membering the kick, contented itself with growling. 
 Shortly after a peculiarly firm step echoed across the 
 peristyle. 
 
 " Hush !" exclaimed little Xenocles. "What a 
 step. If Heracles himself was approaching, it could 
 not sound different. I'll wager that is Lamon." 
 
 VII. 
 
 The door-curtain was drawn aside admitting a 
 broad-shouldered man of middle height, with muscular 
 limbs, sunburnt skin, short neck, curling locks, and 
 thick beard. He wore a purple fillet around his hair and 
 was clad in a robe of dazzling whiteness. This was 
 Lamon, famed for his remarkable strength, who in the 
 88th Olympiad would have won the prize for wrestling, 
 had he not unintentionally crushed to death his oppo-
 
 THE HETAERIA. II7 
 
 nent, a Heracleotian athlete. Lamon was a fuller by 
 trade. In those days, when the white robe was com- 
 monly worn, the business was a very general and very 
 profitable occupation, since the fine woollen stuff, every 
 time it was to be cleansed from stains and soils, had to 
 be entrusted to the fuller where, among other processes, 
 it was subjected to a skilful bleaching. Lamon was 
 therefore regarded, certainly with good reason, as a 
 very well-to-do citizen. 
 
 There was silent admiration, mingled with a touch 
 of submission, in the greeting of all. At that time 
 strength was a power to which every one bowed. 
 Thuphrastos alone showed no special reverence. This 
 man, who belonged to one of the most distinguished 
 families in Athens, had early given numerous proofs of 
 intelligence and courage. One day, during the expe- 
 dition against rebellious Megara, he was separated 
 from the heavily armed troops by a dense fog and very 
 hard pressed by the foe. At night he ordered each of 
 his men to collect two beds of leaves, and in the early 
 dawn he retreated. The Megarians pursued, counted 
 the heaps of leaves, and believing the Attic horsemen 
 to be twice as numerous as they really were, did not 
 dare to attack them, but held a council. Meantime 
 Pericles came up with his heavily armed troops and 
 the Megarians were surrounded, which ended the cam- 
 paign. 
 
 But Thuphrastos was conscious of his distinction. 
 He had a peculiar way of using his eyes, lowering them 
 slowly as though measuring the person with whom he
 
 Il8 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 was conversing from head to foot. Lamon was thus 
 inspected, after which he greeted him, with a certain 
 reserve, it is true, as one great man salutes another, yet 
 with evident good-will. 
 
 Stately Acestor sprang up from his couch, went to 
 meet the fuller, and pressing his hand, said : 
 
 " I greet you, Heracles of our day !" Then, turn- 
 ing to the others — he usually seemed to speak to as 
 many persons as possible at once — " With Lamon 
 among us we can laugh at all informers and slaves of 
 the city police force. Lamon be praised, he is our 
 shield, our armor!" 
 
 With these words Acestor raised his head and 
 arched his chest as though, having bowed to another, 
 he hastened to take the place that was his due. 
 
 Lamon who, like most remarkably strong men, was 
 somewhat grave and taciturn, now opened his mouth 
 for the first time and, without paying the least heed to 
 Acestor's flattery, said : 
 
 " It is late. If Sthenelus and Lysiteles would 
 come, we could begin." 
 
 With these words he reclined on the couch opposite 
 to Xenocles and beckoned to Hipyllos. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Lamon's wish appeared to be uttered in a lucky 
 hour; for it was scarcely spoken when again a stir 
 arose in the house and, directly after, voices echoed in
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 119 
 
 the peristyle outside. It was a peculiar exchange of 
 words, which could scarcely be called a conversation, 
 since only every other sentence was heard. One of 
 the speakers, especially, had a voice so low that it was 
 lost in a faint murmur. The other, on the contrary, 
 talked in very high, clear tones, emphasizing each syl- 
 lable with a distinctness that could only proceed from 
 long training. It was easy to perceive that his mode 
 of speech was connected with his profession of address- 
 ing words to a numerous assembly. Yet, though his 
 voice was so well developed, there was something frivo- 
 lous, mocking, almost insolent in the tone, which pre- 
 cluded the thought that the man might be an orator. 
 
 The dialogue outside began with a whining mutter, 
 which sounded almost as if it came from a disconsolate 
 dog. 
 
 " Why !" replied the loud-voiced speaker, " what is 
 there strange in that ? Where should two ragamuffins 
 like ourselves meet better than in the Himatiopolis 
 Agora (Rag-market) ?" 
 
 Again a mutter was heard, that sounded like a 
 feeble remonstrance. 
 
 " Simpleton !" replied the loud voice, and each of 
 the sonorous Attic words rang out so distinctly that it 
 was impossible not to listen. " How can you make 
 yourself richer than you are ? My cloak, my robe, 
 every thread I have belong to the clothes-dealers, I 
 own. that! But the wine I have here" (the listeners 
 knew that the speaker patted himself in the stomach) 
 "belongs to me, it is my own, — my own, do you un-
 
 I20 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 derstand ? — even if it isn't paid for. So am I not 
 right in esteeming wine more than clothes ?" 
 
 The question was answered by a rude laugh, which 
 could scarcely have proceeded from the low-voiced 
 man, but was doubtless uttered by the door-keeper as 
 he followed the guests across the peristyle. 
 
 " Good !" cried Xenocles smiling, " there is our 
 merry brother Sthenelus the actor." 
 
 " And the other," added Acestor, as if the last 
 comer was not worth mentioning by name. 
 
 The curtain was raised and two persons entered, 
 each a queer figure in his own way. The loud-tongued 
 man, Sthenelus the comedian, was a plump fellow about 
 forty years old, with a red face, a still rosier nose, 
 small, piercing eyes, and tousled brown hair. His cos- 
 tume consisted of a shabby grey robe, whose Avhite bor- 
 der was full of spots. At the first step through the 
 door he sank low on one side — he was very lame. He 
 had not been born with this infirmity, but once, on one 
 of the great festivals, while personating Cecrops with 
 floating plumes, gold-broidered cloak, and sword with 
 an ivory hilt by his side, he had carelessly stepped off 
 the boards and fallen. Half stunned by the accident 
 he had heard, as though in a dream, the frantic laughter 
 of the crowd. For where was Cecrops ? The hero's 
 helmet and mask were lying in the dust, and the co- 
 median's red face suddenly appeared, while beneath the 
 magnificent garments were some shabby rags with a 
 pair of thin legs, whose lack of proportion to the huge 
 cothjirtii would alone have been sufiicient to awake the
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 mirth of the populace. But this fall, amid the laughter 
 of thousands upon thousands of people, had serious 
 consequences ; from that day Sthenelus was lame. 
 
 No one pitied him. Who knew much about a poor 
 comedian ? In whatever character he appeared the 
 spectators saw only a close linen mask, which covered 
 the whole head, and a costume that suited the mask. 
 An Agonistes might appear in three or four parts, 
 year after year on the great holidays, might grow old 
 on the stage, but win admiration and affection — im- 
 possible ! It was the lifelike disguise, the mask and 
 robe which the populace applauded. IF/io was con- 
 cealed beneath no one knew and no one cared to 
 know. 
 
 As Sthenelus' lameness had rendered him useless as 
 an actor, he was obliged to fight his way through the 
 world as he best could. The scanty alms bestowed by 
 the state upon all cripples was far from being sufficient 
 for his needs. He first sold his stage paraphernalia, 
 his masks, daggers, etc., and then wandered through 
 the small towns in the neighborhood of Athens, making 
 merriment for the inhabitants. He went, as he himself 
 said, from tragedy to comedy. Jesting became his 
 means of livelihood, and to keep up his courage he 
 drank whenever opportunity oftered, and in those days 
 opportunities were not rare. 
 
 " Why ! why !" he said as he entered, " you are as 
 solemn as the Areopagites themselves. By Heracles, 
 it was far livelier where I've been ! I come from 
 Halipedon ; the good folks there were amusing them-
 
 122 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 selves by jumping on leather bottles. Finally a fat 
 sausage-dealer set his flat feet on one so that it burst 
 with a loud report — and over he went slap on his 
 back in the midst of the mire. There wasn't a dry 
 thread on him. Ha ! ha ! ha !" 
 
 The other new-comer, Lysiteles, a small, wizened, 
 hump-backed man, plucked Sthenelus' robe to warn 
 him to be less noisy. Then he greeted the assembled 
 group, but in an awkward, humble way, as though he 
 knew no one would notice the salutation, after which 
 he shrank into himself still more, so that nothing was 
 seen of his face except a big pale forehead covered 
 with a network of wrinkles. 
 
 This man was one of the utterly ruined idlers, of 
 whom there were so many in Athens. As a youth he 
 had been attractive, gay, haughty, and extravagant, 
 but all that was left of the " magnificent " Lysiteles 
 was a decrepit old man of sixty who, with age, had 
 red, rheumy eyes. The jester Meidias asserted that 
 Hermes had changed his eyes to two fountains, which 
 wept for his lost fortune day and night. On the whole 
 Lysiteles was accustomed to be made the butt of jests. 
 Some dissolute young fellows had once dragged him in 
 to a dinner at the house of ^-Egidion, a well-known 
 hetsera from Corinth. After the banquet the ques- 
 tion was asked . 
 
 " Can any one tell why Lysiteles is more crooked 
 and bent than any other Athenian ?" 
 
 ^gidion who, clad in a robe of semi-transparent 
 stuff from Amorgos, was reclining on a couch, stretched
 
 THE HETAERIA. I23 
 
 out her smooth arm adorned with a gold bracelet and 
 
 beckoned to Lysiteles. Fixing her dark eyes on him, 
 
 she gave him a light tap on his lean stomach and said : 
 
 " It's hard for an empty sack to stand upright." 
 
 IX. 
 
 Thuphrastos invited the last arrivals to be seated. 
 
 Lysiteles took the couch farthest in the rear, while 
 Sthenelus stretched himself at full length on one of the 
 front ones, close beside the master of the house. 
 
 Then a tall mixing-vessel was placed on the tiled 
 floor. It was a vase made of burnt clay, adorned with 
 a mask of Silenus, surrounded by fruits and flowers. 
 Into this beautiful vessel the Chian wine was poured, 
 after being mixed — by the general desire — in the 
 proportion of one part wine to three of water. Sthen- 
 elus alone demurred. " It's frog's wine, not human 
 beings' wine!" he said. 
 
 Thuphrastos gave each of his guests a wreath, and 
 set small tables bearing goblets in front of the couches. 
 
 To any one familiar with Attic customs there was 
 something remarkable in these preparations. Not a 
 single slave was present to wait upon the company. 
 This exclusion of the servants was scarcely natural ; 
 but it agreed with having a watchword demanded at 
 the door of the house. This was evidently no ordinary 
 drinking-bout. 
 
 When the goblets were filled Thuphrastos stood
 
 124 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 forth among the men with a certain solemnity of 
 manner. Pouring a little of the mixed wine into a 
 shallow drinking-cup, he said : " To the good spirit," 
 sipped the liquor, and passed the cup to his next 
 neighbor. 
 
 While the wine was going the round of the com- 
 pany, he gazed around the circle with an earnest look, 
 then, raising his voice, he said in his singularly abrupt 
 fashion : 
 
 " In a short time — on the eleventh day of the 
 month — there will be a popular assembly and election 
 of magistrates. Who can foresee the result ? Shall we 
 come forth rejoicing as victors or grieving and exasper- 
 ated by defeat ?" 
 
 One of the wicks of the lamp flared up. Thu- 
 phrastos' eyes rested on Lysiteles, who sat cowering at 
 the back of the group. The old captain did not con- 
 sider his manner sufficiently attentive. 
 
 " Man !" he shouted, as if he wanted to rouse him 
 from sleep. 
 
 Lysiteles started and approached with unsteady 
 steps, looking still more hump-backed than before. 
 
 " The elections are close at hand," repeated Thu- 
 phrastos, raising his voice as though speaking to a deaf 
 man. " Many," he added, laying his hand on Lysi- 
 teles' shoulder, " see in you a man sorely persecuted 
 by the gods — to whom no one ought to refuse any- 
 thing. Others have formerly been your friends and 
 table companions. You can win votes — many votes, 
 if you choose."
 
 THE HETAERIA. 1 25 
 
 "But," said Acestor, "he is feather-brained; he 
 might betray us." 
 
 Sthenekis half started from his couch. There 
 seemed to be a singular comradeship existing between 
 him and Lysiteles. He himself jeered at him, but he 
 would not allow any one else to do so. 
 
 " Feather-brained ?" he repeated, and staring fixedly 
 at Acestor he rolled the rug spread over the couch into 
 a bundle and, propping his elbow on it, raised himself a 
 little. " My friends," he continued, waving his hand 
 with the gesture of an orator, " lend me your ears ! I 
 know a man who in former days was handsome, 
 wealthy, and extravagant. He was called " the Mag- 
 nificent." Now he is only a shadow, and considers 
 himself a worm. I know another man too. He's as 
 showy and stately as one of Pyrilampes' peacocks, as 
 hollow and noisy as a drum ; but, because many admire 
 him, he fancies himself a demi-god and behaves as 
 though he had vanquished the king of Persia himself. 
 Now, I ask, which of these two is the more feather- 
 brained ?" 
 
 " By Zeus, the second !" cried little Xenocles, with 
 more haste than prudence. 
 
 All except the grave Lamon burst into a peal of 
 laughter, because it was Xenocles, Acestor's friend, who 
 had made this answer. 
 
 An angry sparkle flashed into Acestor's eyes; his 
 lips parted. But Thuphrastos anticipated him. 
 
 "No quarrelling!" he shouted harshly. "Lysiteles 
 has sworn faith. He will keep his oath."
 
 126 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 " That he will," said Sthenelus with a glance at 
 Acestor. " Doesn't he know — as we all do — that a 
 drawn sword is hanging over our heads ?" 
 
 " Ah !" added Xenocles, " these are evil days. 
 What changes have happened during the last few 
 months ! First happiness, rejoicing, the intoxication of 
 battle when the expedition to Sicily was determined. 
 The younger men flocked to the wrestling-schools and 
 baths, the older ones to the work-shops and wine- 
 rooms; the island was described and sketched with 
 the surrounding sea and the cities facing Libya. All 
 quoted Alcibiades' words : ' Sicily is only the earnest 
 money — Libya and Karchedon are the wages of the 
 battle. When we once possess them, we will conquer 
 Italy and surround the Peloponnesus. A great future 
 is before us; Athens is worthy to rule the world!" 
 
 "Yes," said Acestor, " and lo — in the midst of the 
 rejoicings came evil signs and omens. What did men 
 whisper in each other's ears ? Socrates' good spirit 
 had predicted evil — the soothsayers, and the oracle of 
 Amnion foretold terrible things — a man mutilated 
 himself on the altar of the twelve gods — and ravens 
 had pecked the golden fruits on the bronze palm-tree 
 at Delphi." 
 
 " In truth," continued Xenocles, " the omens were 
 not false. Soon came that fateful morning when all 
 the hermae in the market-place except those outside 
 of Leagoras' house, were found broken and shame- 
 fully disfigured. Many insolent hands must have 
 united to accomplish so much mischief in a single
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 127 
 
 night. Who will ever forget the frightful tumult in the 
 city when the sacrilege was reported ? All the morn- 
 ing the heralds' voices were heard, first summoning 
 men to the council and afterwards to the popular as- 
 sembly. Just before noon, a reward of ten thousand 
 drachmae was offered for the first accusation. This 
 opened the door to all the powers of evil. Citizens, 
 metic, and slaves vied with each other in making in- 
 dictments in the council. What did it avail that Alci- 
 biades was ordered to sail with the fleet ? That didn't 
 end the matter. . . ." 
 
 " On the contrary," muttered Thuphrastos, " day 
 by day there was more and more legal prosecution. 
 Every time the heralds summoned the people to a 
 council terror and confusion arose. Peaceful citizens 
 talking together in the market hastily separated from 
 each other — every one feared a false accusation and 
 sought refuge beside his own hearth-stone." 
 
 " And not without reason," observed Xenocles. 
 " What has become of those denounced like Diocleides 
 or the rich metic Teucros ? — all gone, either fugitives 
 or sentenced to death ! Remember the two members 
 of the council, who first sought refuge at the altar of 
 the gods, and afterwards — when bail had been given 
 for them — mounted their horses to leave wives, chil- 
 dren and all they possessed — glad to escape with only 
 their lives ! The gods be praised that it has been 
 more quiet in the city lately." 
 
 " Don't be too secure," said Acestor in a warning 
 tone. " Phanus, Cleon's clerk and confidential man.
 
 128 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 has not forgotten the time when his master was treas- 
 urer. He bore all the hetaeriae ill-will, but he has 
 been three times worse since Cleon's death. Now that 
 he has joined Peisandros, Charicles, and the other open 
 or secret rulers, he sees in every convivial meeting of 
 friends a threat against the safety of the state, and has 
 in his pay a whole pack of informers who, like sleuth- 
 hounds, understand how to scent an hetaeria, often 
 without any other clue than a chance word or a vague 
 hint." 
 
 Lysiteles groaned ; all the others were silent. 
 
 X. 
 
 It was some time before the conversation was re- 
 sumed. There seemed to be no special friendship 
 between these " friends ; " each had his own hopes 
 and wishes. 
 
 Thuphrastos' desire was to be elected state envoy 
 to one of the tributary cities which threatened revolt. 
 It was an office that lasted only thirty days, but 
 during this short time afforded an excellent opportunity 
 for money-making. The envoy only needed to inspire 
 the city with the fear of a stern punishment, to induce 
 it to enter into an agreement in which he placed his 
 demands as high as possible and required the payment 
 for each separate item in ready money. This was the 
 universal method of proceeding and Thuphrastos had 
 no hesitation in following it. In and for itself the
 
 THE HETAERIA. 1 29 
 
 proud captain of horse set little value on money ; but 
 he was a poor manager and continually in debt. This 
 was not without peril at a period when an irresponsible 
 debtor might be sold as a slave, so it was extremely 
 important for him to be elected, and he anticipated 
 with anxiety and suspense what the next popular as- 
 sembly would bring. 
 
 Xenocles did not aspire so high. He wanted to be 
 superintendent of the public aqueducts. These, which 
 were supplied from the neighboring mountains, bore no 
 resemblance to the Roman aqueducts, but consisted of 
 deep canals with reservoirs from which the water was 
 distributed to the city. No one was more familiar 
 with this gigantic work than Xenocles; for in his 
 youth he had been employed by Meton who had su- 
 perintended the excavations and masonry of the whole 
 of the newest portion. 
 
 " Had you not been a member of our hetaeria," 
 said Sthenelus, " you should never have had my vote." 
 And when Xenocles asked the reason he replied : 
 " Because, by Zeus, you know the aqueducts far too 
 well — you'll be a costly superintendent." 
 
 Lamon cherished wholly different wishes. He 
 wanted to be gymnasiarch * — a post for which he was 
 fitted both by his dexterity in physical exercises and 
 his unusual strength. He was one of those who daily 
 visited the Lyceium. It was a pleasure and delight to 
 wander among the crowd in the roofless marble halls 
 around the open squares, and gaze over the yellowish- 
 
 * Inspector of the gymnasia. 
 9
 
 130 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 white sand, where hundreds of the handsomest youths, 
 wrestHng nude in the sunUght, displayed their agihty 
 and strength. 
 
 Acestor agreed with Thuphrastos, flattered Lamon, 
 and said what he thought would please Xenocles ; but 
 in his heart he despised them all and considered him- 
 self the chief man in the hetaeria. Nevertheless 
 he appeared to desire nothing except to become one of 
 the people's advocates. Every one who knew his high 
 opinion of himself wondered that he did not aspire to 
 some greater goal. Hipyllos had also noticed that 
 Acestor had been unusually silent at the last meetings 
 of the hetaeria and concluded that he was cherishing 
 some secret plan. Thuphrastos also thought his man- 
 ner strange, and determined to keep a watchful eye 
 upon him. 
 
 Hipyllos was very differently situated. As, with 
 his fortune, he belonged to the class of " knights " and 
 was bound to serve in the mounted troops with the 
 weapons, horses, and other costly outfit incidental to 
 this duty, the thought of obtaining the position of a 
 captain in the police force was natural. By the aid of 
 Thuphrastos and others he succeeded in being elected, 
 and had thus attained the end of his desires, but in 
 doing so had by no means loosened the bond uniting 
 them to the hetaeria. 
 
 Sthenelus would have liked to be public herald, but 
 he was a cripple and the heralds, these sacred and un- 
 blemished men with the serpent staves, the " friends of 
 Zeus," must be persons without any physical defects.
 
 THE HETAERIA. 13I 
 
 Therefore, like Lysiteles, he was obUged to wait until 
 one of their more fortunately situated " friends " had 
 been elected. Many of those chosen to fill public 
 offices could have clerks, and to Sthenelus and Lysi- 
 teles, from whose houses smoke was never seen to rise, 
 a clerk's salary, though small, would have been a real 
 blessing from the gods. 
 
 Thuphrastos talked of the numerous law cases that 
 would pour in upon him when the time of his embassy 
 had expired. Oppressed citizens, informers who knew 
 that he had obtained money, envious fellow solicitors 
 — would all rush to him. 
 
 " So it's worth while. Friends, to be firm," he said. 
 "You, Hipyllos," he added with a winning smile, 
 •" must contrive to have your uncle appear before the 
 court." 
 
 This was evidently an allusion to a very aristocratic 
 and distinguished man. It was a common custom to 
 bring powerful families into the courts of justice to 
 make an impression upon the judges. Xenocles who, 
 from his impoverished youth, had cherished a special 
 reverence for all prominent personages, raised his head 
 like a horse pricking its ears. 
 
 " Hipyllos' uncle ?" he asked, " who is that ?" 
 
 " The former archon, Euthydemus." 
 
 " An archon !" repeated Xenocles, gazing at Hip- 
 yllos as though the latter had suddenly grown taller. 
 
 Hipyllos thought of pretty Clytie, and did not lose 
 his opportunity. 
 
 " Why yes," he said carelessly, " our family is said
 
 132 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 to descend from the Pallantidae, Theseus' old antago- 
 nists. It has numbered not a few archons, among 
 them one whose name you all know — Lacrateides." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Lamon with unexpected energy, 
 the one in whose archonship the severe winter hap- 
 pened. My grandmother often spoke of it. The roads 
 were covered with snow, and poor people struggled 
 for room in the baths so that some fell on the stoves 
 and were burned." 
 
 Xenocles stared at Hipyllos. 
 
 " A descendant of Lacrateides !" he exclaimed, 
 clasping both his hands. " Excellent young man ! 
 You belong to one of the noblest races in Athens — 
 and you never mentioned it till now !" 
 
 Thuphrastos, to whom this interruption seemed 
 long, loudly cleared his throat. 
 
 " To business !" he said harshly. " What do you 
 think ? Shall we deal with Megas, the dyer ?" 
 
 " He is a man highly esteemed," replied Lamon. 
 " His whole family connection see with his eyes and 
 speak with his lips. He disposes of numerous votes." 
 
 " Megas !" exclaimed Sthenelus, " The dyer without 
 a work-shop. . . . yes, by Zeus, I know him. He's a 
 man of strict Spartan manners — always goes plainly 
 dressed and bare-footed. . . . But when this pattern 
 of manly sobriety meets his companions at night there 
 is — I swear to you — no infamy that is not committed. 
 To me that Megas is detestable." 
 
 " Well, there is Medon, the brass-founder," said 
 Xenocles. " He's a pleasanter fellow to bargain with.
 
 THE HETAERIA. I33 
 
 Do you know him ? — A stout, sun-burned man, who 
 loves wine and is always laughing. His family is even 
 more numerous than the one of which Megas is head." 
 
 " Why not win them both ?" asked Hipyllos. 
 
 " There isn't money enough," replied Thuphrastos. 
 
 " Shall it be Medon ?" said Xenocles. 
 
 After some discussion, this was generally approved. 
 
 " But," said Hipyllos, more thoughtful than some 
 of the older men, if Megas finds out that we go to 
 Medon — will he not be vexed and perhaps betray 
 us ?" 
 
 XI. 
 
 As a captain in the mounted police Hipyllos was 
 obliged to have a helmet, breast-plate, shield, lance, 
 sword, and spurs ; besides the armor required for the 
 forehead, chest, and flanks of the horse. The greater 
 part of this costly equipment was made by the armorer 
 Sauros. The latter did not live, like most of those who 
 followed his trade, in the Scambonidae quarter of the 
 city, but in the street of the sun-dials, and his forge 
 was in the alley obliquely opposite to the side-building 
 of Xenocles' house. This was a place Hipyllos never 
 wearied of visiting; merely to know he was near 
 pretty Clytie was a delight to him. 
 
 The day after the meeting at Thuphrastos' house, 
 he was to try on the cuirass. He reached Sauros' 
 shop just at twihght. The smith had gone out, but a
 
 134 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 young slave who was filing a metal plate thought he 
 would soon return. The work-shop was filled with 
 smoke and unpleasant odors, so Hipyllos preferred to 
 wait outside. 
 
 A luxuriant garden extended to a slope, along 
 which ran a walk overgrown with vines supported on 
 cross-bars resting on tall poles. The end of this walk, 
 where Hipyllos stood, was closed by a dilapidated wall. 
 
 A wide view was obtained from this place. At the 
 left rose the hill of the Museium and farther on the 
 Acropolis towered into the air. The streets, trees, and 
 houses between stood forth in dusky outlines amid the 
 gloom of twilight. Lamps shone here and there. The 
 sky was slightly overcast, and the foliage exhaled a 
 strong odor as though it was going to rain. Ever and 
 anon a sleepy gust of wind stirred the damp air. 
 Everything expressed peace and rest, and the most 
 profound silence reigned in this quarter of the city. 
 
 Suddenly light footsteps and mysterious whispers 
 were heard at a little distance. 
 
 Hipyllos looked through a gap in the ruined wall, 
 and saw several women approaching from the other 
 end of the walk. The first one carried a lantern with 
 horn sides and seemed to be showing the second the 
 way. A third figure followed. 
 
 The woman with the lantern was dressed in a 
 strange, outlandish costume. Over her head a blue 
 cloth wrought with silver stars was drawn in long 
 folds, two of which hung down on her breast, and on 
 her hair above the brow, in place of a clasp, glittered a
 
 THE HETAERIA. I35 
 
 gold sun. She wore a blue robe, and across her 
 bosom and shoulder passed a broad white band upon 
 which were embroidered golden suns, crescents, and 
 stars. 
 
 At this time there lived in Athens a woman of 
 foreign birth named Ninus, who called herself a priest- 
 ess of the Phrygian god Sabazius. She foretold future 
 events and brewed love-potions, while invoking gods 
 and demons. Rumor said that she had a large num- 
 ber of customers, especially women. 
 
 Hipyllos did not doubt that this was the person he 
 saw. She seemed to be about forty years old; her 
 face was still beautiful, though uncommonly pale, and 
 as cold and motionless as if hewn from stone. 
 
 Her companion was closely veiled and wrapped in 
 a long, dark robe drawn over her face like a hood. 
 Hipyllos could not catch the smallest glimpse of her 
 features, but so far as he could judge from her figure, 
 bearing, and gait, she was young, and so, too, seemed 
 the female slave who followed her. 
 
 The new-comers directed their steps towards the 
 vine-covered alley where Hipyllos was standing. The 
 priestess of Sabazius set the lantern on a stone table 
 just inside the ruined wall, and took from a basket a 
 quantity of strange things. As well as Hipyllos could 
 see by the dim light, among them were metal bowls, 
 laurel branches, purple wool, an iron gridiron, some 
 wax figures, and a wheel. 
 
 During these preparations her veiled companion 
 had often showed signs of impatience.
 
 136 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 "Oh, if I had never come!" she exclaimed. "A 
 daughter outside of her father's house after dark! If 
 my mother should miss me — what a disgrace !" 
 
 The voice which echoed in clear, musical tones on 
 the stillness of evening made Hipyllos' heart throb. 
 He had never heard Clytie speak, but it seemed to 
 him that she must speak thus. 
 
 " Have no fear, pretty maid," said Ninus in a sin- 
 gularly deep voice with a foreign accent. " Let Doris 
 run back and keep watch. Then you can be called at 
 once." 
 
 " Yes, dear Doris, run, run !" 
 
 The slave hngered, but was obliged to obey. 
 
 Hearing the name of Doris strengthened Hipyllos 
 in the beUef that Clytie stood before him, for the slave 
 through whom he had learned from Manodoros that 
 her mistress loved him was called Doris. 
 
 " Make haste, good Ninus," said the veiled figure 
 when she was left alone with the priestess. " I am 
 trembling with fright." 
 
 " Give me time," muttered Ninus. " Do you sup- 
 pose the gods can be invoked as we draw water or 
 chop wood ? It would be a pity," she added, pointing 
 to the numerous articles on the table, if all this should 
 have been done in vain. I was obliged to bargain 
 with and bribe slaves. How else could I get a man's 
 shoe or the fringe from his upper garment ? But to 
 bargain and bribe. ..." 
 
 Ninus paused, casting a side-glance at the young
 
 THE hItAERIA. 137 
 
 girl, who remained silent. The priestess saw that she 
 must speak more plainly. 
 
 " But to bribe," she added, " requires money, a 
 great deal of money." 
 
 " I haven't any; I've never had money." 
 
 This was evidently not the first time the answer 
 had been given to Ninus. She understood how to 
 help herself. 
 
 " Well, well !" she cried, " if you have no money, 
 my pretty one, you probably have many rings, clasps, 
 and such things." 
 
 The veiled figure threw back her cloak ; two daz- 
 zlingly white arms appeared a moment and unfastened 
 a brooch from her forehead. But the light from the 
 lantern was so faint that Hipyllos rather imagined than 
 saw the features which to him were the dearest in the 
 world. 
 
 " Take this ornament," she said ; " I have many of 
 them. . . . Take this pin and clasp too." 
 
 Ninus bent her head to conceal her delight. 
 
 " Generous girl !" she exclaimed, " who would not 
 gladly serve a maiden fair as Aphrodite and blooming 
 as Artemis ?" 
 
 " Offer your thanks to Doris," said the veiled 
 figure. " She persuaded me to come. She has told 
 you all, even that terrible thing — the worst misfortune 
 which could befall me."
 
 138 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 XII. 
 
 HiPYLLOS Strained his attention to the utmost. 
 
 Ninus herself seemed to become somewhat thought- 
 ful at hearing the girl's words. 
 
 " Why don't you speak to your mother ?" she said. 
 
 " Ah, no, no ! Mother will not venture to help me. 
 She wants only what my father desires." 
 
 Ninus was silent a moment. 
 
 " Yet there is no other way," she said. " You must 
 either go to your mother or do what Doris advises." 
 
 " Follow Doris' advice ?" cried the veiled figure 
 impetuously. " No, never, never ! What are you 
 asking ? I should die with shame." 
 
 How eagerly Hipyllos listened. Here was some- 
 thing he did not understand. 
 
 " True," replied Ninus, " it must be torture to a 
 respectable girl. Yet to him. . . ." 
 
 The muffled figure hastily interrupted her. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I know whom you mean." 
 
 A faint smile flitted over Ninus' pallid features. 
 
 "Aha!" she murmured. "You are afraid I might 
 utter his name, and that it might be an ill-omen. So 
 you think of him very often, pretty maid ?" 
 
 The young girl bent her head with a bewitching air 
 of embarrassment. 
 
 " Then it is true," Ninus persisted, " you often 
 think of him ?"
 
 THE HETAERIA. I39 
 
 " Always," was the reply. 
 
 Hipyllos could have hugged the sorceress for that 
 one word. 
 
 " Girl," said Ninus suddenly, " is your mind devout 
 and your body pure ?" 
 
 " Before coming here I prayed to the gods and 
 anointed myself." 
 
 Ninus was silent for a time, then going close to the 
 muffled form she asked in a whisper : 
 
 " Have you ever heard of stones animated with 
 souls, which have fallen from the skies ? We call 
 them baetyli, but among your people they are known 
 by the name of orites or side rite sT 
 
 " I know nothing about them," replied the young 
 girl, then seizing the priestess' hand with an enquiring 
 gesture she murmured : " Tell me, what do these 
 baetyli give ?" 
 
 " Counsel." 
 
 "What! Stones — talk?" 
 
 " Hush, hush ! In the name of the gods — silence. 
 It is a great mystery." 
 
 Hipyllos listened attentively. He had already 
 heard of a strange connection between demons and 
 stones; he knew that in the temple of Apollo at 
 Delphi there was a stone that had fallen from the sky, 
 which was daily anointed with oil. This was the 
 stone Rhea had let Cronos swallow instead of Zeus. 
 
 " As you know, fair maid," Ninus continued, " I 
 will gladly serve you." 
 
 " I shall not be ungrateful."
 
 140 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Ninus shook her head. 
 
 " Promises are words written in water," she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 The young girl, without answering, began to draw 
 a ring from her finger but Ninus prevented it. 
 
 " The ring is worth eight drachmae," she said. 
 ^' Conjuring with the stone will cost ten times as much. 
 Know that hitherto no Hellene has made a baetylus 
 speak. Such things can only be learned in Phrygia . . . 
 Farewell, maiden ; we must part. . . ." 
 
 " Don't leave me !" cried the girl, seizing Ninus' 
 robe. " Look !" she added drawing from her arm a 
 glittering gold band, " if this is enough, take it." 
 
 " I am easily satisfied," said Ninus, snatching the 
 gold. " Well then, I'll tell you everything. Before a 
 baetylus will show its power one must fast thrice seven 
 days and hold no conversation with men; then the 
 stone must be washed in spring-water and clad in 
 swaddling clothes like a little child. Even this is not 
 enough. A lamp must be lighted in a clean room in 
 the house, incense offered, and prayers repeated. All 
 this I have done from the hour Doris first told me." 
 
 Ninus now thrust both hands down into the basket 
 and, with great care, drew out a smooth oval stone, 
 wrapped in swaddling clothes like a new-born child. 
 
 Holding out the stone, she bowed low. 
 
 Hipyllos felt like a person who, at some untimely 
 hour, had entered a sanctuary and beheld things no 
 mortal eye ought to see. 
 
 " Maiden," whispered Ninus, " take the haetyhis in
 
 THE HETAERIA. I4I 
 
 your arms and rock it to and fro. But beware of 
 dropping it ; for then it would be angry," 
 
 The veiled figure received the stone with evident 
 anxiety. 
 
 Ninus now lighted some charcoal on the gridiron 
 by the flame of the lantern, scattered incense upon it, 
 and let the smoke rise before the baetyliis. Then, 
 taking it from Clytie's hands, she removed the swad- 
 dling clothes and anointed it with oil. 
 
 " Look !" she cried, raising it in the air, " the soul 
 ,is coming." 
 
 Hipyllos felt a slight thrill of awe. He fancied he 
 saw the stone make a slight movement in the priestess' 
 hands. 
 
 Ninus now rocked it more violently and in a 
 strange tone, that sounded like the monotonous buzzing 
 of an Egyptian sistrum, chanted the following words : 
 
 Orites, lend thine ear, 
 Stone smooth and splendid, 
 Let us the spirit hear 
 Within thy heart hid. 
 Stone that thyself canst stir, 
 From earth arising, 
 Lipless art thou, yet murmur 
 Counsel inspiring. 
 
 Again the stone seemed to make a slight move- 
 ment. 
 
 The priestess of Sabazius, bending over it, whis- 
 pered :
 
 142 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 " By the two great mysteries, life and death, I con- 
 jure thee, Orites, raise thy voice and answer. Shall 
 this maiden apply to her mother or shall she follow the 
 advice of the slave-girl, Doris ?" 
 
 A whimpering sound like an infant's cry was heard. 
 
 Ninus bent lower and kissed the stone three times 
 — a strange, weak voice, which seemed to issue from it 
 with difficulty, said slowly, syllable by syllable, the two 
 words : 
 
 " 0-bey Do-risT 
 
 Hipyllos had been made no wiser by this scene. . 
 He did not yet know what terrible thing had happened 
 to Clytie or for what reason she sought advice. 
 
 The priestess of Sabazius wiped the perspiration 
 from her forehead, and in absolute silence washed the 
 iaetylus and put on its swaddling clothes. 
 
 "See!" she said as she replaced it in the basket, 
 " the spirit is departing again. . . . But know one thing, 
 girl; you must do what the baetylus advised; the 
 ' Unknown ' do not give their counsel in vain." 
 
 " I will do it," replied the muffled figure sighing. 
 ■" But — the other thing of which Doris told you ?" 
 
 Ninus smiled. 
 
 " You haven't seen him for ten days," she mur- 
 mured. "And you think that he has forgotten you ?" 
 
 " Dear Ninus !" cried the girl, pressing her hand 
 upon her bosom. " He is my hope, my only hope. 
 Your spells will not harm him ?" 
 
 There was such tender anxiety in the question, that
 
 THE HETAERIA. 143 
 
 Hipyllos felt an almost unconquerable desire to spring 
 forward and clasp the young girl in his arms. 
 
 " No," rephed Ninus. " These spells will do no 
 harm. But, since I fulfil your wishes in this, give me 
 the ring you showed me just now." 
 
 Clytie hastened to comply with the demand. 
 
 Ninus then drew out an article wrapped in a cloth. 
 *' This is one of his sandals," she whispered. Scatter- 
 ing sulphur on the charcoal she held the sandal in the 
 smoke, then flung salt into the flame, saying in a slow, 
 solemn tone : 
 
 " Hi-pyl-los, Cly-ti-e !" 
 
 The young man felt a shiver run through his limbs 
 at hearing his name so suddenly. 
 
 Ninus glanced around. This was the moment 
 when the person summoned, drawn by an invincible 
 power, ought to appear and fall at his loved one's feet. 
 
 The priestess shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " Hm !" she muttered, as though baffled. " Your 
 fear was not groundless, pretty maid. Take this vessel 
 I use in pouring libations and wrap the purple wool 
 around it, put these laurel branches on the flames, hold 
 the wax near them, and set the dish beneath." 
 
 At the same time Ninus raised aloft a tri-colored 
 wax image and flung fragrant boughs upon the fire 
 before it. 
 
 " Hear me, most terrible of goddesses, mysterious 
 Hecate!" she cried, " mercifully aid us and make our 
 spells more powerful than those of Medea and Circe. 
 Let his blood bum as these laurel leaves are consumed
 
 144 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 in the flame, and his heart bleed and melt with tender- 
 ness for this maiden as this wax melts from the heat." 
 
 Ninus started and listened. 
 
 The baying of a dog was heard in the stillness of 
 the night. 
 
 " Hush !" she muttered. " I hear dogs barking. 
 Hecate is near — in the cross-road yonder, where her 
 altar stands. Strike these metal basins against each 
 other — let the sound tell her that we feel her ap- 
 proach. Oh, Hecate, stern, exalted goddess, I will 
 pour three libations in thy honor! Thrice accursed be 
 each new fancy of the man this maiden loves. Let 
 him instantly desert her rivals, as Theseus deserted the 
 hapless Ariadne." 
 * Then, seizing the wheel, she set it in motion. 
 
 " Let his footsteps circle around this maiden's 
 dwelling, as this wheel turns on its axle. Direct his 
 steps hither, lofty goddess," continued Ninus, throwing 
 a powder upon the charcoal. " Appear, oh Hipyllos, 
 appear r'' she called loudly. A clear yellow flame shot 
 high into the air and vanished with a faint crackling 
 sound, like a flash of lightning. 
 
 By the glow the young girl had seen Hipyllos' face 
 appear and disappear like a vision in a dream — a wall 
 seemed to open and close over it. Terror and surprise 
 made her utter a piercing shriek. Ninus fancied her- 
 self watched and blew out the light. 
 
 While Hipyllos, dazzled by the blaze, was groping 
 his way around the corner of the wall he heard the 
 dry twigs snapping under hurried footsteps. It was
 
 THE HETAERIA. I45 
 
 the two women, who were steahng away through the 
 other end of the long arbor. He wanted to follow 
 them, but ran into the arms of the armorer's slave who 
 was looking for him to say that his master had come. 
 Almost at the same moment the door of Xenocles' 
 house closed with a bang, rendering farther pursuit 
 useless. 
 
 He followed the slave into the shop. Sauros de- 
 served credit for his work; the cuirass fitted admir- 
 ably. But Hipyllos did not hear the smith's long ex- 
 planations; his sole desire was to be alone with his 
 thoughts. So, when the fitting was over, he hastily 
 took his leave, called his slave, told him to light a 
 torch and set out on his homeward way. His dis- 
 appointment at pretty Clytie's escape had already 
 vanished ; nay even his anxiety about the trouble 
 threatening her was forced to yield to the blissful 
 thought of being beloved by the fairest maiden in 
 Athens. He knew that now from her own lips — for 
 it did not occur to him to doubt that the muffled figure 
 was Clytie herself. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The following day Hipyllos returned from the 
 race-course shortly after noon and flung himself upon a 
 couch ; but his blood was too keenly stirred for him to 
 find immediate repose. He still saw and heard only 
 the chariot-races. A long, long course, marble benches
 
 14-6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 filled with passionately excited spectators, slanting rows 
 of chariot sheds, falling barricades, horses dashing for- 
 ward four abreast, clouds of dust, clapping of hands, 
 and shouts of: " Speude, speude !" (haste) and: 
 "Aristeue!" (keep ahead) — all this had gone to his 
 head like intoxication. Gradually his excitement died 
 away into a pleasant lassitude, and at the same time 
 his thoughts wandered to the conjuration the day 
 before in Sauros' garden. Again he heard the priestess 
 of Sabazius say : " You think of him very often, pretty 
 maid ?" and recalled the bewitching movement with 
 which the young girl had bent her head and whispered 
 the one word : " Always !" that had almost made him 
 betray himself in his delight. He had reached this 
 point in his love-dream, when the door-keeper entered. 
 
 " A young slave-girl wants to speak to you," he 
 said. " She has a letter from her mistress." 
 
 Hipyllos started from the couch. 
 
 " Bring her in — quick." 
 
 He understood two things — that some misfortune 
 must really have befallen Clytie, and that what Doris 
 had advised and the baetyliis confirmed was — to write 
 to him. 
 
 A young slave with a bright face entered and, fold- 
 ing her arms across her breast, bowed before him. 
 
 Hipyllos hastily advanced to meet her. 
 
 " In the name of the gods, what has happened ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "This letter will tell you," replied Doris — for it
 
 THE HETAERIA. 147 
 
 was she — and handed him two wax-tablets folded to- 
 gether. 
 
 Hipyllos broke the ribbon that confined them, 
 opened the tablets, and read the lines traced upon the 
 wax. They ran as follows : 
 
 " Clytie, Xenoc.les' daughter, greets Hipyllos, Chae- 
 Tetades' son. 
 
 " It is necessary, doubly necessary, for me to write, 
 first for the sake of the matter itself and secondly 
 because a higher power has counselled me to do so. 
 But I shall make the message short — for it concerns a 
 misfortune. Know that my father, urged by that man, 
 has hastened my marriage, and the wedding will take 
 place in five days. Woe is me, funeral flambeaux 
 would be more welcome than those bridal torches. 
 Yet how is escape possible ? Can a daughter contend 
 against her father ? Can a wife oppose her husband ? 
 My mother kisses me and weeps with me, but says she 
 dares not do that. You, oh Hipyllos, are the only 
 person with whom I can seek refuge. What you will 
 do, I know not. But I turn to you as an ill-treated 
 slave flies to the altar. Your vow that day, in my 
 mother's hearing, was no promise written in water. I 
 read sincerity and truth in your face, and since that 
 hour I have considered you the master of my life. 
 You will not yield. In the midst of my grief I have 
 but 07ie joy — that you cannot see me. My cheeks 
 are crimson with shame, and my eyes are full of tears. 
 This letter, the first and last, I still write as a maiden."
 
 148 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 While reading these hnes the most varied feeUngs 
 assailed Hipyllos ; he felt both grieved and channed. 
 He again glanced over the letter, and the superscrip- 
 tion awakened a feeling of delight. The young girl, 
 educated under her mother's eye, was honesty itself — 
 it had not once occurred to her to write anonymously. 
 She did not utter a single unkind word about Acestor, 
 the source of her trouble ; she merely alluded to him 
 as " that man." And how touching was her confi- 
 dence ! She did not know what he would do, yet she 
 appealed to him as the only person with whom she 
 could find refuge. And the last warning that there 
 was only a short time for action she expressed in the 
 words " I write this still as a maiden." 
 
 There was something so womanly in the letter that 
 Hipyllos felt his heart swell with pride and happiness. 
 It seemed as though some part of the lovely girl's per- 
 sonality clung to the wax tablets and the delicate lines 
 traced upon them, and again he vowed to win her, 
 cost what it might. 
 
 Hipyllos glanced from the letter to the slave. 
 
 She was a blooming girl, sixteen or seventeen years 
 old, rather tall than short, with a brown skin and curl- 
 ing black hair. Her dress was a white linen robe, 
 confined under the youthful bosom by a girdle striped 
 with blue and yellow. 
 
 Doris smilingly returned the look. She understood 
 the whole matter. 
 
 " Why is the wedding so hurried ?" asked Hipyllos. 
 " Why does it take place in five days ?"
 
 THE HETAERIA. 149 
 
 " How should I know ?" replied Doris. " Some of 
 the slaves think Acestor needs the dowry." 
 
 Hipyllos took from a low chest a reed, " the black 
 kind," and a roll of the papyrus known among dealers 
 by the name of taneotica. 
 
 While Doris, knowing that on her return she would 
 be obliged to describe every couch, rug, and tripod, 
 was gazing around the room, Hipyllos sat down at a 
 small table and wrote as his youth and love dictated : 
 
 " I greet you, beautiful Clytie, my light, my soul, 
 and my life ! 
 
 " Your letter has been a source of both terror and 
 delight. But the terror is conquered and the delight 
 remains. Rely upon me, I shall leave nothing untried. 
 But should I not save you in the five days, my advice 
 is this : Feign illness, so that the marriage must be 
 delayed. I shall thus gain more time. And now fare- 
 well, dearest treasure of my soul ! Be of good courage 
 and calm yourself." 
 
 A drachma was slipped with the letter into Doris' 
 hand and, blushing for joy, she left Hipyllos with the 
 best wishes for him and Clytie. 
 
 The young man was scarcely alone ere he became 
 absorbed in thought. " Five days !" he murmured, 
 " five days !" He could have killed Acestor, but he 
 perceived that violence was no way to win the fair girl. 
 To go to Xenocles and tell him everything would cer- 
 tainly be the simplest method, but would the latter
 
 150 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 break his pledged word, especially so short a time 
 before the wedding ? It surely was not probable. 
 After long irresolution Hipyllos thought of Thuphras- 
 tos. The old soldier was clever in everything he un- 
 dertook, experienced in all the relations of life, and re- 
 nowned for his wise counsel. Besides, Clytie's father 
 had the greatest respect for him. Perhaps he might 
 help. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The next moment Hipyllos was on his way to 
 Thuphrastos. It was just the hour between the time 
 to go to market and the time of visiting the gymnasia. 
 As the young man expected, he found the old captain 
 at home. The latter received him kindly and listened 
 to him attentively but, when Hipyllos mentioned his 
 real errand, Thuphrastos frowned and gave him a flat 
 refusal. 
 
 " What do you ask ?" he said in his rough way. 
 " I am to go to Xenocles — and dictate to him to 
 whom he shall marry his daughter ? Make myself a 
 laughing-stock for him and others ? No, young man, 
 you don't know Thuphrastos." 
 
 Hipyllos bent his head and fixed his eyes upon the 
 ground. His last hope was destroyed. 
 
 There was a moment's silence, in which the dog 
 was heard rattling his chain outside. 
 
 Thuphrastos straightened his grey robe, rubbed his
 
 THE HETAERIA. 151 
 
 bald pate, and absently pulled his beard, Hipyllos 
 felt ashamed of his request and looked thoroughly dis- 
 heartened. At last Thuphrastos laid his hand on his 
 shoulder and sat down on the couch by his side, 
 
 " Don't lower your eyes like a woman," he said, 
 and then added in a kinder tone : " Pluck up your 
 courage ! There are other ways and means." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" asked Hipyllos, raising his 
 head. 
 
 " Listen — I'm going to give you a piece of advice. 
 The old general Stratocles once saw some of his heavy- 
 armed troopers turn pale when about to meet the foe. 
 He instantly shouted : ' If any of you have forgotten 
 anything in the camp, you can go and get it!' One 
 man sneaked timidly out of the ranks, followed by five 
 or six others. ' Good !' cried Stratocles, ' the cowards 
 have gone ! Now we have only brave men among 
 us.' Then he rushed forward, and the enemy fled. . . . 
 But, young man, you don't yet fully understand ?" 
 
 Hipyllos made a gesture of denial. 
 
 " Well then," Thuphrastos continued with a certain 
 impetuosity, as though he could not utter what he had 
 to say quickly enough, " I think your rival, Acestor, is 
 a chatterer and a coward — I mean — that, like those 
 slaves, he must be brought to show himself in his true 
 colors. Then Xenocles — without asking anybody's 
 advice — will let him go." 
 
 " Splendid ! Excellent !" cried Hipyllos, clapping 
 his hands. " Men don't praise your clever counsel 
 without cause. But how is this to be managed ?"
 
 152 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 " By Zeus, there's no difficulty about that. Make 
 yourself small as he makes himself great — feign to be 
 timid, and let him show himself brave. Then, when 
 he has puffed himself up well, give him a real fright. 
 Pretend that the meetings of the hetaeriae are dis- 
 covered, that the house is surrounded by bowmen, and 
 when he is trembling with terror and doesn't know 
 where to hide, do as Stratocles did with the cowards — 
 give him an excuse to slip away, and he'll speedily 
 show the hollows under the soles of his feet." 
 
 Hipyllos laughed. The pair talked together some 
 time longer, and when the young man went away all 
 anxiety and doubt had forsaken him. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Hipyllos' letter was a joy and comfort to Clytie, 
 but it did not soothe her. Five days was so short a 
 time ! Amid tears and caresses she confided in her 
 mother, and described Hipyllos with such loving elo- 
 quence that Maira (her mother) was won over to her 
 wishes. Though Clytie had little faith in her interces- 
 sion, she went to her and by entreaties and persuasions 
 induced her to promise to tell her story to Xenocles. 
 Two of the five days had already passed, so there was 
 no time to lose. 
 
 The next evening, when the husband and wife were 
 supping together, the husband comfortably extended 
 on a couch and the wife sitting humbly on its outer
 
 THE HETAERIA. 153 
 
 edge, Maira — not without a secret tremor — ventured 
 to mention the subject ; but the hot-tempered httle 
 man scarcely understood what she was talking about, 
 ere he started up and repulsed her in such a way that 
 she dared not revert to the matter again. Every hope 
 of Maira's assistance was thus cut off, and to speak to 
 her father herself did not even enter the young girl's 
 mind. She could do nothing but fix her last faint 
 hope on Hipyllos. 
 
 Yet, when the day before the wedding arrived 
 without any prospect of deliverance, Clytie ceased to 
 weep and fell into a state of dull insensibility, like a 
 person who is utterly hopeless. " What is the use of 
 pretending to be ill?" she thought. They will say: 
 *' It is nothing — it will pass off! Can I oppose them 
 all ? Can I keep the bridal procession waiting ? No, 
 even if I complain of sickness, they will lift me into 
 the chariot and let that man carry me to his house." 
 
 From that moment she felt as though she had no 
 will in anything. 
 
 When evening came, the last evening she was to 
 spend under her parents' roof, her mother and a few 
 female slaves were busied about her in her maiden- 
 bower. It was a small room with reddish-brown walls, 
 lighted by a clay lamp which stood on a brass tripod. 
 Clytie sat on a low chair, with her face turned from the 
 lamp, and Doris stood behind her in the act of fasten- 
 ing her hair into a knot. At the back of the room 
 Maira and a middle-aged slave, who had been Clytie's 
 nurse, were busied in examining robes, kerchiefs, gir-
 
 154 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 dies, and over-garments, which they spread out on the 
 young girl's bed, a small maple-wood couch, covered 
 with embroidered pillows and coverlets. 
 
 A sorrowful, troubled mood prevailed. Even the 
 atmosphere of the little room was heavy, as though 
 saturated with the peculiar damp freshness of women's 
 clean garments, mingled with a penetrating odor of 
 ointments and Median apples, the latter being laid 
 between the stuffs to perfume them. Now and then 
 Clytie's mother and the nurse exchanged a few words, 
 but as softly as if they were trying not to disturb some 
 sick person. Clytie resigned herself in perfect silence 
 to the care of her favorite attendant, and even the 
 latter's nimble tongue was still. 
 
 Suddenly a girl's merry voice was heard outside. 
 According to ancient custom the bride, on her mar- 
 riage eve, bathed in water brought from the Fountain 
 of Enneacrunus. 
 
 This water must be brought by a virgin, and a 
 young neighbor, Coronis, the daughter of a rich 
 basket-maker, who from childhood had been Clytie's 
 friend and looked up to her with admiration, had gone 
 with her slaves to the fountain to fetch the water. 
 
 As she entered, a breath of gayety and life seemed 
 to come into the silent room. Coronis was a merry 
 little maid, with a childish face, whose dark eyes, lips, 
 cheeks, dimples — all laughed. She was dressed en- 
 tirely in white, and carried the laurel branch used for 
 purification. This she instantly put down by the door, 
 as if to say : " Stay there, you useless, solemn thing."
 
 THE HETAERIA. I55 
 
 She had so much to tell that she scarcely took time 
 to greet Clytie and her mother. She had met at the 
 fountain two other bride-maids; they had talked to- 
 gether, and Coronis therefore knew all about the wed- 
 dings which were to take place the next day; she 
 knew the fathers, mothers, brides, and bridegrooms, 
 and had a great deal to say about the marriage gar- 
 ments, bridesmen, and nuptial banquets. 
 
 When her story was ended, preparations were itiade 
 for a ceremony which the art of those days has repre- 
 sented upon many a vase. 
 
 Doris placed a bath-tub shaped like a mussel-shell 
 in the middle of the floor, and set the full hydria beside 
 it. Then, kneeling before her mistress, she loosed her 
 girdle and unfastened the clasps on her shoulders. 
 Two slight pulls were sufficient to make the garments 
 fall around the hips, and from a cloud of white folds 
 appeared the whole upper portion of the maiden's slen- 
 der form, whose fairness, seen against the brown wall, 
 became doubly dazzling and seemed created to ensnare 
 both eyes and hearts. 
 
 Now began the familiar talk that always takes 
 place among women on such occasions. 
 
 " How beautiful you are, dear !" exclaimed little 
 Coronis, pressing a light kiss on her friend's shoulder. 
 " What a complexion — what is the finest Syrian stuff 
 compared with its smoothness !" 
 
 " Yes," said the middle-aged nurse, with as much 
 self-satisfaction as though she considered Clytie her
 
 156 nCTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 own work, " I know that even Leda's bosom was not 
 more beautiful, ... no breast-band is needed here." 
 
 Doris glanced with a smile at Coronis and the 
 nurse. 
 
 " What you praise deserves the highest compli- 
 ments," she said, " but it is not what I value most." 
 With a look of earnest affection she knelt before Clytie, 
 took her hand, and kissed it. " What I value most is 
 my beautiful mistress' goodness. I have served her 
 daily ever since she was a Httle child — and never in 
 that long time has she uttered a single unkind word." 
 
 " Believe me, my Clytie," the mother added, not 
 ■without a certain pride, though her eyes were full of 
 tears, " you will be fortunate and happy. What hus- 
 band can fail to love you — so good and so beautiful!" 
 
 Coronis now took her friend by the hand. As 
 Clytie rose, the garments slipped lower and remained 
 lying around her on the floor like a broad white linen 
 garland. An instant, but only an instant, the young 
 girl, faintly illumined by the lamp, stood in the white 
 beauty of her snowy limbs in the dusky room ; then, 
 with a swift movement, she stepped out of the folds of 
 her robes into the bath-tub. 
 
 Coronis, with a mischievous expression, raised the 
 full hydria. 
 
 " Prepare to shiver, Clytie," she said laughing. 
 " I'm going to do what is written in Lamprus' bath- 
 song." And holding it so that the water trickled 
 down over the shining, supple body, she chanted in a 
 low tone :
 
 THE HETAERIA. , I57 
 
 "Slowly pour the fountain's water 
 O'er the white neck of the bride; 
 Brow and bosom let it moisten, 
 Hand, and foot, and back, and side! 
 Soon the fair one will perceive the 
 Cooling freshness of the bath, 
 As her fair limbs' marble whiteness 
 The pink bloom of roses hath." 
 
 While Doris was wiping her mistress' back with a 
 soft woollen cloth, the latter's eyes followed the quiv- 
 ering drops of water that chased and mingled with 
 each other on her white neck before trickling in wav- 
 ing streams over the smooth skin. Clytie was not 
 vain of her beauty; but when, as now, she looked 
 down over the soft slope of her shoulders and the 
 chaste curves of her bosom she could not help receiv- 
 ing an impression of something uncommonly pretty. 
 The water had not only strengthened her body, but 
 given fresh vigor to her mind. A multitude of 
 thoughts darted through her brain. Did not Homer 
 himself tell the story of a bloody war waged for a 
 fair woman's sake ? So woman's beauty must be 
 something precious. And for whom was she destined ? 
 
 She saw in imagination her bridegroom Acestor — 
 stately and boastful, but without a trace of Attic refine- 
 ment, heavy and dull. She had only cast one hasty, 
 timid glance at him, but a woman's glance is like a 
 flash of lightning, and she had caught him fixing his 
 eyes on her with an expression she had never seen. 
 She felt that it was monstrous, a desecration, to be
 
 158 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 given to this man, and secretly vowed to shun no 
 means of escaping so bitter a fate. 
 This resolve was soon to be tested. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Scarcely had Maira, accompanied by the nurse, 
 left the room to go with Coronis to the door and make 
 a final survey of the house, when a noise like a pebble 
 flung against the wall was heard outside. Faint as the 
 sound was, Doris started and Clytie, who was in the 
 act of putting on her tunic, stopped, blushed crimson, 
 and held her breath to listen. 
 
 Doris ran to the peep-hole and drew the red cur- 
 tain aside. A voice whispered a few words which 
 sounded like a question. 
 
 Before Doris replied, she turned towards Clytie and 
 said : " It is his slave Manodoros. . . . He asks if 
 you are alone." 
 
 Then she put her head through the hole and an- 
 swered in a smothered tone : " Yes, entirely alone. 
 But what do you want ? Speak. My mistress' 
 mother has just gone out, and will be back directly." 
 
 Again there was a whisper outside. 
 
 Doris stretched her arm through the opening as far 
 as she could. At the same moment her neck and ears 
 grew crimson, and she stamped her foot impatiently. 
 *' Let go !" she cried, " let go ! This is no time for
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 159 
 
 trifling." When she again turned, she held in her 
 hand a letter written on a papyrus-scroll. 
 
 " Read it, dear Mistress," she said as she took the 
 bath-tub and carried it away. " I'll keep watch out- 
 side." 
 
 Clytie seized the letter with a trembling hand and 
 broke the seal. The dull expression of her features 
 had vanished, and her lovely face was radiant with ex- 
 pectation and hope. 
 
 The letter contained the following lines, which 
 seemed to have been hastily written, for here and there 
 a word was erased and changed for another. 
 
 " Dearest Clytie ! 
 
 "You are alone against many; I fear you may 
 let yourself be over-persuaded. You must fly ; it is 
 the only way of escape. The priestess of Sabazius is 
 willing to receive you. Doris must go, too, or she will 
 be tortured and confess everything. 
 
 " In the name of all the gods, do what I advise, 
 my beloved. Have you not yourself called me the 
 lord of your life ? You can easily escape through the 
 garden ; keep concealed a few days, and all danger 
 will be over. I shall know how to soothe your father's 
 wrath. Besides, can it be counted against the many 
 happy years awaiting us ?" 
 
 If this letter had come earlier, Clytie would never 
 have decided upon a step so entirely opposed to what 
 was seemly for an Attic maiden. The idea of quitting
 
 l6o PICTURES OK HELLAS. 
 
 her father's roof would have appeared to her the most 
 impossible of all. Yet, now that her aversion to Aces- 
 tor had become as intense as her love for Hipyllos, she 
 thought the letter very bold, but at the same time per- 
 ceived that Hipyllos told the truth. The danger was 
 imminent, and there was no escape save flight if they 
 were not to be parted forever. 
 
 " He is right," she thought. " I have called him 
 the lord of my life. Should I then fail to fulfil his first 
 command? No — I will do what he directs — happen 
 what may." 
 
 When Doris entered to fetch the empty hydria, 
 Clytie stood before her with flushed cheeks and a 
 glance which expressed firm resolution. 
 
 " When everything is quiet in the house," she said, 
 " I shall fly through the garden. You will go with me." 
 
 Doris stared at her in open-mouthed amazement; 
 the empty hydria she had taken dropped from her 
 hand and broke with a rattling noise on the tiled floor. 
 
 " May the gods avert the warning !" she murmured, 
 as she picked up the pieces. 
 
 But Clytie did not allow herself to be disturbed. 
 
 " When father and mother are asleep," she con- 
 tinued, " you must shp into their chamber and get the 
 key of the garden." 
 
 Doris scarcely beheved her ears. She no longer 
 recognized Clytie. Was this the timid young girl who 
 had been afraid to meet Ninus and whom she was 
 obliged to lead step by step ? Now it was Clytie who 
 commanded and Doris who hesitated.
 
 THE HETAERIA. l6l 
 
 " But, do you think, Mistress, . . . ?" 
 
 Clytie raised her hand with a gesture that com- 
 manded silence. 
 
 At the same moment steps were heard outside. 
 Clytie's mother returned and, sending Doris away, 
 seated herself on the edge of the couch and drew the 
 young girl down beside her. This was the last even- 
 ing the daughter would spend at home. Maira ten- 
 derly stroked Clytie's hair, clasped her hands in her 
 own, and talked a long time to her in a whisper. 
 When they at last parted it was reluctantly, after many 
 an embrace and caress, and the eyes of both were wet 
 with tears. 
 
 Clytie felt a twinge of remorse, but it did not 
 change her resolve. 
 
 Tearing a strip of papyrus from Hipyllos' letter, she 
 wrote the following lines : 
 
 " Dear Mother ! 
 
 " Forgive me, I must fly — I abhor that man. 
 But do not fear ! I shall seek a safe place, where no 
 harm will befall me. Doris goes with me. In a few 
 days, when the danger is over, I will come back. 
 Farewell, dear mother, blessings on you for your love ! 
 I leave my father's house a virgin, and as a virgin I 
 shall return." 
 
 When Clytie had fastened the strip of papyrus with 
 a pin to the pillow, she gathered together the few 
 articles of clothing she would need for a short absence.
 
 l62 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Doris now came stealing in ; she had been Ustening 
 outside the chamber. Xenocles and his wife were not 
 yet asleep, but were talking to each other; she had 
 heard them utter the word "bride-man." 
 
 XVII. 
 
 An hour later Doris again glided through the open 
 hall of the women's apartment, called the prostas, to 
 the chamber occupied by Clytie's parents. She lis- 
 tened, but heard nothing ; the conversation seemed to 
 have ceased. The room was one of the iQ\N apart- 
 ments in a Greek house that could be closed by a 
 door. Fortunately this door was ajar, but to slip in 
 Doris was obliged to push it farther open. Scarcely 
 had she touched it when she was startled by a loud, 
 distinct creaking. She felt her cheeks grow bloodless, 
 but she must go in. With the utmost caution she 
 again took hold of the door, and this time it opened 
 noiselessly. Silently as a shadow she stole barefooted 
 into the room. A sultry, heavy atmosphere greeted 
 her. She heard the breathing of the sleepers, but 
 there was no other sound. From the peristyle the 
 faint light of the night-heavens shone through the open 
 doorway. Doris saw the bed indistinctly \ something 
 light trailed on the floor beside it — doubtless a 
 woman's long robes hanging from a chair. She cau- 
 tiously groped her way forward, fearing to knock 
 against something and make a noise. There was a
 
 THE HETAERIA. 163 
 
 Strange feeling of insecurity about her, and her feet 
 seemed as heavy as lead. With dilated eyes she saw, 
 or fancied that she saw, two human figures stretched 
 upon the bed. Advancing a few steps nearer she felt 
 paralyzed with terror and on the point of falling. One 
 of the figures sat upright in the bed and turned its face 
 towards her. She could not see the eyes, but was 
 aware that the person saw her distinctly. 
 
 " Is it you, Doris ? What do you want ?" a voice 
 said, interrupting the silence. 
 
 Doris knew the tones, though amid the darkness 
 and stillness of the night they seemed to have a ghostly 
 sound. It was Maira who spoke. 
 
 The mother was so engrossed by the thought of her 
 daughter's wedding, that she had not been greatly 
 startled by seeing Doris glide in. The voice merely 
 sounded a little surprised. 
 
 Doris could not answer ; it was impossible for her 
 to utter a single word. 
 
 " What do you want so late ?" Maira said again, 
 this time with a touch of impatience. 
 
 Doris forced herself to control her voice. 
 
 " The key. . . ." she stammered, " I want to get the 
 key." 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " The night-lamp has gone out, and 1 want to light 
 it at the neighbor's." 
 
 " Simpleton, you can light it from Clytie's. It is 
 shining on the pillars outside." 
 
 This was unanswerable — Doris thought her cause
 
 164 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 lost. But the very magnitude of the danger forced her 
 to calm herself. She drew a long breath, and once 
 more felt in possession of her wits. She tvotild have 
 the key. And all the resolution and defiance that 
 exist in a firm determination suddenly filled her soul so 
 completely that, heedless whether she roused Xenocles 
 or not, she went straight to her goal. 
 
 " But I must have the key," she replied in a tone 
 that sounded cold and strange in her own ears, " I 
 want to pour out the bath-water." 
 
 " Let it stand till morning." 
 
 Doris felt with her hand over the wall near the 
 head of the bed and found the nail with the three- 
 toothed key, which she took quietly without any ex- 
 treme haste. 
 
 " I dare not let the water stand," she said, " my 
 mistress ordered me to pour it out." 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, she left the room as 
 lightly as a feather, and breathless with joy and excite- 
 ment ran back to Clytie, before whom she trium- 
 phantly held aloft the key. 
 
 Clytie clasped her in her arms and kissed her ten- 
 derly, then, without losing a moment, she gave her the 
 bundle of clothes, threw a blue-striped kerchief over 
 her head, and holding her faithful maid-servant's hand, 
 glided out of the room.
 
 THE HETAERIA. 165 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Clytie's heart was throbbing with excitement. In 
 passing on she raised the curtain hanging at the door 
 of the apartment in which stood the images of the 
 household gods, and bowing towards the Httle statues, 
 wholly invisible in the gloom, murmured in a low 
 tone : 
 
 " Do not be wrathful, protectors of my race ! Do 
 not desert me because I forsake you." 
 
 Then, accompanied by Doris, she walked through 
 the open hall into a large work-room set apart for 
 women. The darkness here was so great that nothing 
 was visible save two narrow grey streaks ; these were 
 the loop-holes in the wall, through which the room 
 received its light by day. A warm atmosphere, the 
 heat emanating from human bodies, greeted the fugi- 
 tives, and they heard the heavy breathing of numerous 
 sleepers. Most of the female slaves of the household 
 spent the night here on couches made of piles of 
 cushions or felt rugs ranged along the wall. As Doris 
 moved towards the garden door she ran against some- 
 thing, probably a tall tripod. She hastily caught at it, 
 but in the darkness missed her aim and it fell with a 
 heavy crash, while a copper lamp which had stood 
 upon it rattled on the stone floor. The slave women 
 started from their sleep ; the shrieks of one terrified
 
 1 66 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 the others till all vied in screaming. Hasty footsteps 
 crossed the peristyle, and a man's voice cried angrily : 
 
 " What an ado ! Why are you yelling so ? What 
 is it ?" 
 
 " Hush, you simpletons !" said Doris' well-known 
 tones, " do you take me for a thief who has lifted the 
 door off its hinges or dug his way through under the 
 wall ?" 
 
 " What are you doing here ?" asked the door- 
 keeper of the women's apartment ; for it was he who 
 had hurried in. 
 
 Meantime Doris had found the lock and put the 
 key in it. 
 
 " Oh, pshaw !" she replied, as though vexed by so 
 much disturbance, " I'm going to pour out the bath- 
 water. In the dark I ran against a tripod — it fell, 
 and so they screamed as if they were possessed by 
 some evil demon." 
 
 With these words she opened the door, pushed 
 Clytie out, and followed herself. 
 
 The fugitives now found themselves in the garden. 
 Here the darkness was not too great to permit them to 
 distinguish without difficulty the paths winding between 
 the black masses of the shrubs and trees. A damp 
 wind blew into their faces and the odor of the flowers 
 was oppressively strong; they heard a rustling among 
 the leaves, hke the sound of dice dropping on a copper 
 shield, and big drops fell singly. 
 
 After the anxiety she had experienced Clytie felt 
 unspeakable relief. It seemed as if she inhaled liberty
 
 THE HETAERIA. 167 
 
 with every breath of the night air, and she thought 
 with a touch of joyful dread of meeting Hipyllos. 
 Doris was still absorbed by the remembrance of the 
 nocturnal disturbance in the house, but consoled her- 
 self by thinking that the door-keeper would explain 
 everything. 
 
 Outside the garden gate stood two dark figures. One 
 wore his hair cut short — so he was a slave ; the other 
 had long locks, and though both appeared like dim 
 black outlines Clytie instantly recognized Hipyllos by 
 the stately way in which his mantle was draped about 
 him — in itself sufficient to mark the young Eupatride. 
 
 Clytie's heart beat faster, and she suddenly trem- 
 bled in every limb as she had done the evening she 
 stole out to meet the priestess of Sabazius. She had 
 scarcely stepped outside of the garden, when Hipyllos 
 hurried towards her. 
 
 " I thank you," he said, blessings on you for 
 coming." 
 
 The young girl made no reply ; she was far too 
 much agitated and confused to be able to utter a single 
 word. 
 
 " You saw the necessity," Hipyllos continued, 
 " and besides. . . ." 
 
 He paused and, smiling, gazed into her face; he 
 had never seen her look lovelier. The blue-striped 
 kerchief she had thrown over her head cast a slight 
 shadow upon her features, which lent them a mysteri- 
 ous charm.
 
 l68 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 . . . . " And besides," he added, " you wrote that 
 you trusted me." 
 
 Clytie raised her dark eyes to him, 
 
 Hipyllos threw his arm around her waist, and 
 though he felt a shght movement of resistance he led 
 her in this way the short distance to the hired house 
 where the priestess of Sabazius lived. It was a dwell- 
 ing called a tristegos, a three-storied house which be- 
 longed to Sauros, the armorer, and stood close beside 
 his workshop. 
 
 At the first subdued tap of the knocker, Ninus was 
 ready and opened the door. 
 
 Hipyllos clasped both of Clytie's hands. 
 
 " We must part," he said. " But, whatever hap- 
 pens, do not go home until you have received a mes- 
 sage from me. And now farewell, you beautiful one, 
 you darling, you light of my life !" 
 
 He pressed her to his breast, and ere she could 
 prevent it he had snatched a kiss. 
 
 But Clytie tore herself from his embrace, gathered 
 the folds of her robe around her, and fled as hghtly as 
 a deer up the steps, where her slender figure vanished 
 in the darkness. 
 
 Hipyllos gazed after her. 
 
 " By Aphrodite," he exclaimed, " she is like a but- 
 terfly."
 
 THE HETAERIA. 1 69 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Maira did not sleep much that night, The next 
 morning she was surprised not to see Doris flitting 
 about the house, and having found Cly tie's room 
 empty, she did not doubt that her daughter was in the 
 garden with her favorite attendant. She went there 
 and called repeatedly ; but, when silence was the only 
 reply, a presentiment of misfortune darted through her 
 mind. She hurried back to Clytie's chamber, searched 
 it, found the papyrus note on the pillow, and read its 
 contents with breathless haste. 
 
 " Merciful Gods !" she exclaimed, clasping her 
 hands. " Gone — fled in the night ! . . . . Clytie, 
 Clytie, how could you cause me such sorrow ? Make 
 our house the scorn of envious neighbors — What will 
 your father say ? He will rage and curse you. . . ." 
 
 Suddenly a revulsion of feeling came over her. 
 
 " Well, let him rage," she murmured, " let him rage 
 and call down curses. . . . To drive my Clytie to 
 this ! How she must have suffered ! But, by Hera, 
 he shall hear the truth." 
 
 She was already on her way to her chamber, when 
 she paused. 
 
 " What am I doing !" she exclaimed. " The first 
 thing is to conceal Clytie's flight. No one must sus- 
 pect that her room is empty." 
 
 Calling Eunoa, the oldest female slave in the house,
 
 170 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 she said to her : " Clytie is ill. Sit down here outside 
 of her door and let no one enter, not even her nurse. 
 Do exactly as I tell you." 
 
 Eunoa opened her eyes in astonishment ; she had 
 never heard her mistress speak in so curt and imperi- 
 ous a tone. 
 
 When Maira entered her bed-room, there was a 
 certain solemnity in her manner that attracted Xen- 
 ocles' attention. Stretching himself on the couch, he 
 beckoned to her. 
 
 But, instead of taking her seat on the edge, Maira 
 remained standing before him, gazing steadily into his 
 face. Xenocles scarcely believed his eyes. It was the 
 first time during the twenty years of their married Hfe 
 that his wife had not instantly done whatever he re- 
 quested. 
 
 " Sit down," he repeated, again pointing to the 
 seat. 
 
 Maira did not seem to hear. 
 
 " I have evil tidings," she said coldly. " A mis- 
 fortune has happened to us during the night." 
 
 " What is it ? What is it ?" cried the excitable little 
 man, and pointing to the strip of papyrus she held in 
 her hand, he asked : " Is this the misfortune ?" 
 
 " It is from Clytie," replied Maira, and read the 
 contents in a tone which seemed to imply that the 
 matter was no concern of hers. 
 
 At the words : " Forgive me, I must fly," Xenocles 
 started and, with a stiff movement, as though both his 
 limbs had suddenly become one, he swung himself up
 
 THE HETAERIA. I71 
 
 from his reclining posture and put his feet on the floor 
 so that he sat erect on the couch. He seemed to have 
 been struck speechless, and his hands fumbled with his 
 belt, which he had not yet buckled. 
 
 He was thinking of Clytie's childhood, of her 
 pretty, gentle face, her innocent caresses. His eyes 
 filled with tears — he could not believe that she had 
 gone. 
 
 Maira was a good wife and loved her husband ten- 
 derly; but she was not more generous than the ma- 
 jority of the female sex. Deeply as Xenocles was 
 moved, it did not occur to her to spare him. All that 
 she had silently endured for years must be uttered. 
 
 " Now we have no daughter," she .said, as a sort of 
 preamble. 
 
 Xenocles was silent, the muscles around his mouth 
 twitched convulsively. 
 
 A pause ensued. At that early hour of the morn- 
 ing the house was so still that the flies were heard buz- 
 zing in the sunshine on the rush carpet inside the door. 
 
 " It would have been better," Maira continued, " if 
 you had not always had your head filled with your 
 plans and measurements for buildings. Whole days 
 passed without your saying a word to Clytie or me, 
 and if I spoke to you about anything that disturbed 
 you, I was so harshly rebuffed that I often dared not 
 address you. Doris the slave-girl knew ten times as 
 much about Clytie's affairs. By Adrasteia, it's an easy 
 matter to be a father, if a man considers it enough to 
 give his daughter home and clothes and food. But, if
 
 172 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 you had had any love for your child, had you suspected 
 what she hoped and longed for, had you known what 
 she feared more than death — this misfortune would 
 not have befallen us." 
 
 Xenocles gazed at Maira as though she were a 
 stranger. He understood that it was maternal affec- 
 tion which made her so strong, and at the same time 
 dimly felt that perhaps he had some reason to reproach 
 himself. 
 
 He bent his head. 
 
 " What is to be done ?" he murmured. "Tell me, 
 Maira. You have always been a good wife to me." 
 
 At these simple words all Maira's wrath vanished. 
 She involuntarily sat down beside her husband and, as 
 their eyes met, she threw her arms around his neck and 
 kissed him. 
 
 " First," she whispered, " we must conceal Clytie's 
 ■flight. Then you must — better now than later — go 
 to Acestor and tell him that Clytie is ill and the wed- 
 ding must be postponed. You can say she is deHrious 
 and no one is allowed to see her." 
 
 Xenocles rose. 
 
 " It will be a hard task," he said. 
 
 Fortunately Acestor's house stood in the Melitan 
 quarter so Xenocles, while on his way to it, had time 
 to clear his brain. 
 
 As he had feared, he found the slaves in the act of 
 decorating the building with garlands and green 
 branches.
 
 THE HETAERIA. 1/5 
 
 '' Take all this down !" said the impetuous little 
 man. " The bride is ill. There will be no wedding." 
 
 The door-keeper, who was standing at the half- 
 open door watching the slaves, heard these words and 
 hurrying to his master, repeated them while announ- 
 cing the visitor. 
 
 Xenocles was not a man to stand waiting at an 
 open door, especially in the house of his future son-in- 
 law. He followed close behind, but while crossing the 
 peristyle he started at the sound of a blow, and dis- 
 tinctly heard the words : 
 
 " Take that, bird of misfortune, for your evil tid- 
 ings." 
 
 Acestor received Xenocles with a sullen face and 
 frowning brow. 
 
 " Is what this blockhead says true ?" he asked, 
 without letting Xenocles have time to speak. 
 
 " The gods have given me a bitter cup to drain," 
 replied the little man with dignity. " My daughter 
 has had a sudden attack of illness. . She is dehrious, 
 and no one is permitted to see her. The wedding 
 must be deferred." 
 
 Acestor made no reply, but stared angrily into 
 vacancy. 
 
 " Strange !" he muttered, " A bride who falls ill on 
 her wedding day — who ever heard of such a thing? 
 By Zeus, this or something else seems to me a bad 
 omen. Do not forget that you owe me compensation 
 and, by the gods, a double one. In the first place the 
 girl is beautiful enough for many to desire to wed her,
 
 174 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 even without a dowry, and secondly I had calculated 
 on the amount agreed upon as a sum of which I 
 was sure." 
 
 " I will think of it," replied Xenocles coldly, and 
 went away even more displeased with Acestor than 
 with himself. 
 
 On the walk home he recalled the events of the 
 morning and, as Clytie's flight, Maira's reproaches, and 
 Acestor's greed passed through his mind, he sighed 
 heavily and exclaimed : 
 
 " The gods know where all this will end." 
 
 XX. 
 
 Two days after the hetaeria assembled at Lamon's 
 home. The house, where for many generations a large 
 bleaching business had been carried on, stood on the 
 side of the Museium. All the water used was labori- 
 ously drawn up by slaves or beasts of burden ; but on 
 the other hand the dust of the city did not rise here, so 
 the cloth could be dried in the open air, and moreover 
 there was no trouble with road-inspectors on account 
 of the waste-water. It ran down the hill-side un- 
 heeded. 
 
 To reach the door, customers from the lower part 
 of the city were obliged to pass around the longest 
 wing of the house ; this inconvenience had been en- 
 dured for many generations. They followed, as it
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 175 
 
 were, the customs of their forefathers and the idea of 
 change did not occur to them. 
 
 But Lamon had understood how to help himself. 
 By the side of the bleaching - room was one for 
 hanging clothes which looked out upon the lower 
 part of the city and this, for his customers' con- 
 venience, he had transformed into an open shop, by 
 first replacing the outer wall by a few pillars and then 
 having a marble-topped counter built across the stone 
 floor. On this customers laid their bundles and from 
 it was delivered the finished work which, furnished 
 with the owner's mark, hung on the wall inside. In 
 the evening the place of the outer wall was supplied 
 by a curtain, and at night with a grating reaching from 
 roof to floor. 
 
 In this room, next in size to the workshop, the 
 secret society had assembled. It was late in the even- 
 ing, and at each end of the counter lamps were burn- 
 ing on tall brass tripods. The green curtain between 
 the pillars was drawn, and closed the apartment like a 
 Avail, 
 
 Business discussions had not yet commenced ; 
 Thuphrastos and Hipyllos were talking about armor 
 and weapons. Xenocles had several times given signs 
 of impatience, till at last Sthenelus laughed, saying : 
 
 " Let the weapons rest ! Xenocles has something 
 to tell and, it seems to me, something important." 
 
 "Yes, by Zeus, I have!" cried the eager little man 
 and, glancing cautiously around him in every direction, 
 he whispered : " I fear we are betrayed."
 
 176 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Acestor started from his couch. 
 
 " Betrayed ?" he repeated with evident anxiety. 
 
 Xenocles looked enquiringly at Sthenelus, who 
 nodded assent. 
 
 " I was talking with Sthenelus this morning at the 
 market," the little white-haired man continued. " We 
 were standing in front of the arcade of Zeus the Lib- 
 erator and, when we parted Sthenelus called after me : 
 * You know we meet this evening at Lamon's.' The 
 words were spoken by the statue of Zeus the Liberator. 
 As I turned to go, Sthenelus pointed to the ground. 
 A little round shadow, like a man's head, appeared in 
 the great one cast by the pedestal. Urged by the 
 same fear, we both hurried behind the statue and saw 
 a thin man with tangled hair walking rapidly away. 
 He was scarcely ten paces from us." 
 
 " Who was the man ?" asked Acestor breathlessly. 
 
 " Cephisodemos." 
 
 " One of the most dangerous informers." 
 
 " It's all over with us !" murmured Lysiteles rising. 
 
 Drops of perspiration stood on Acestor's brow; 
 nevertheless he strove to appear calm, and proposed 
 that the meeting should break up and each person go 
 to his own home. 
 
 Thuphrastos took a different view of the matter. 
 He wanted to judge for himself, and therefore asked 
 one question after another. Had the market echoed 
 with shouts and cries or was the time for buying and 
 selling over ? How far from the statue were the 
 .speakers standing ? He put these and several more
 
 THE HETAERIA. I 77 
 
 questions, then when he had learned what he wished 
 to know he shrugged his shoulders saying : 
 
 " No one can judge with certainty whether the spy 
 heard anything or not, but an empty fear ought not to 
 put men to flight. Let us go on as though nothing 
 had happened." 
 
 There was such perfect calmness in Thuphrastos' 
 manner that it communicated itself to the others. 
 Only Acestor and Lysiteles seemed undecided for a 
 moment; but, when the others remained, they were 
 ashamed to go and stayed also. 
 
 It was easy to see that Acestor had had some great 
 plan in view. He was clad in all the splendor with 
 which he appeared in the popular assemblies ; his long, 
 carefully arranged hair was perfumed, he had donned 
 a dazzlingly white chiton, adorned around the neck and 
 at the bottom with an embroidered blue border, and 
 on the fore-finger of his right hand he wore a large seal 
 ring. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Acestor did not instantly commence what he had 
 to say. Calmness must first be restored to the minds 
 of the assembly so, glancing with a smile around the 
 circle, he began in a tone intended to command atten- 
 tion. 
 
 " Is it not true, oh ! my friends, that you would be
 
 17S PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 greatly amazed if I said : ' You have never seen 
 Athens.' " 
 
 " What do you mean ?" exclaimed Xenocles, who 
 was always too impatient to hke riddles. 
 
 " You know," Acestor continued, " that some faces, 
 to appear beautiful, should be seen from the front, 
 others from the side. That is the way with cities — 
 some should be seen from the sea, others from the 
 land " 
 
 " And whence shall Athens be seen ?" asked Xeno- 
 cles, to whom this introduction seemed too long. 
 
 " By Zeus, from this spot." 
 
 Lamon smiled. 
 
 " Why yes," he said, " Pythocleides from Ceos, 
 Pericles' first teacher in the arts of the Muses, came 
 here in his old age. He was perfectly bewitched by 
 the view of the city, and used to say afterwards : ' No 
 one has seen Athens save he who has beheld it from 
 Lamon's house on the Museium.' " 
 
 "Well then, show us Athens!" cried Sthenelus. 
 " By Pan, you have made me very curious though, 
 having been born in the Street of the Sculptors, I 
 thought I knew the city." 
 
 Lamon made a sign to Acestor and the two men, 
 each from his own side, drew the green curtain apart 
 between the pillars. 
 
 The first impression was so overpowering that no 
 one found words to praise it. Beyond the dark frame 
 formed by the roof, pillars, and floor of the apartment 
 the whole space was filled with a subdued light, like a
 
 THE HETAERIA. I 79 
 
 bluish mist. The moon itself was not visible; it was 
 obliquely behind the house. The transition from the 
 lamp-light had been so sudden that at first the group 
 could see nothing; but scarcely had the tripods with 
 the lamps been moved farther back ere the outlines of 
 stately houses and the dark tops of trees began to ap- 
 pear. 
 
 In front of the house, towards the brow of the hill, 
 was a stone balustrade, on which stood vases contain- 
 ing large-leaved plants. Behind these, far down in the 
 valley, were seen like a forest the wide-stretching kepoi 
 or gardens, amid whose dark poplars and cypresses 
 shone here and there a curve of the Ilissus, glittering 
 like molten silver. Not far from the foot of the hill 
 spread the low Limnae with its labyrinth of buildings, 
 and the ancient sanctuary of Dionysus, which seemed 
 buried in the shadows of the night. Farther away red 
 specks of light gleamed through the dusk ; they moved 
 very slowly, meeting, crossing, and moving away from 
 each other — they were the torches carried by pedes- 
 trians along the way leading from the citadel to the 
 market. Beyond this tract the ground rose in three or 
 four lofty undulations, on whose crests appeared houses 
 and trees, among the latter single palms, but distant 
 and small, like delicately carved toys. Between the 
 largest of these hills the flat top and steep sides of the 
 Acropolis towered dark and frowning into the air. 
 Close against the cliff, as if comparing itself with it, 
 stood the vast Theatre of Dionysus, over whose en- 
 circling wall the eye pierced the dark gulf formed by
 
 l8o PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 the steeply-rising seats. But on the summit, towering 
 over the low Limnae, glimmered the white marble 
 temple, with its delicate, shadowy rows of columns, 
 above which again rose the colossal statue of the 
 patron goddess of Athens, visible for miles away, as in 
 motionless grandeur it seemed to both rule and watch. 
 
 A strangely sublime impress rested upon this whole 
 landscape, where the gods had once wandered and 
 where, so to speak, each spot was sacred. Upon the 
 height Pallas Athene had planted the olive-tree sacred 
 to her, and yonder, by the shore of the Ilissus, almost 
 on the very spot where his altar stood, Boreas had 
 borne away the Princess Oreithyia. Sometimes a cool 
 evening breeze, following the course of the stream, 
 swept through the valley. A distant, confused sound, 
 the breathing of the half slumbering city, then reached 
 the ear; but when the wind died away everything was 
 still, and houses, trees, and mountains, steeped in the 
 melancholy lustre of the moonbeams, once more rose 
 before the eyes in majestic silence. 
 
 " Magnificent ! Marvellous !" exclaimed little Xen- 
 ocles, extending his arms towards the city as though 
 he would fain embrace it. 
 
 " Friends," said Acestor, but paused while his 
 glance wandered around the room as though in search 
 of something. 
 
 Sthenelus' eyes twinkled; he knew all Acestor's 
 tricks of art. 
 
 " Why," he said, " Acestor wants the bema.* But 
 
 * Orator's stage.
 
 THE HETAERIA. l8l 
 
 if you are willing, Lamon, surely he can speak from the 
 marble counter." 
 
 Lamon, who was again drawing the green curtain 
 between the pillars, made a sign of assent. 
 
 Sthenelus, spite of his lameness, dragged a bench 
 up to the counter. 
 
 " The bema is ready," he said, offering Acestor his 
 hand. 
 
 The latter took it, and stepped clumsily upon the 
 bench and from the bench to the counter. He was 
 apparently no adept in physical exercises and, when he 
 visited the gymnasia, doubtless did so only to meet 
 orators and poets in the arcades. 
 
 After having thrown back his head and shut his 
 eyes to collect his thoughts, he extended both hands. 
 
 " Friends," he said, and his powerful voice filled the 
 room so that it gave back a resonant echo, " what the 
 eye-ball is to the eye, Athens is to Hellas. As an ora- 
 tor and teacher of the art of oratory, I have travelled 
 through many lands and visited many cities. I don't 
 say this to pride myself upon it, but to show that I am 
 competent to judge. I have seen what great cities are, 
 and how they are governed. Now I say to you : 
 Athens is going to her destruction ! If I — which per- 
 haps I am not quite unworthy to do — stood at the 
 head of public affairs, I should know well what was 
 needed. Then, like a second Pericles. 
 
 At this comparison Thuphrastos knit his brows; 
 the blood rushed to his brain and, clenching his hands, 
 he rose from the couch. Every one was aware that he
 
 152 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 had known Pericles and admired him with his whole 
 soul. 
 
 There was perfect silence in the room. All eyes 
 rested on Thuphrastos, who walked straight to the 
 counter, seized Acestor by his bare leg, and shook him, 
 saying : 
 
 " Come to your senses, Sacas ! You forget how 
 wide is the gulf between you and a Pericles." 
 
 At the slave name of Sacas Acestor sprung heavily 
 down on the tiled floor. He was deadly pale, his eyes 
 sparkled with a fierce, gloomy light, and he raised his 
 hand to deal a blow. 
 
 Thuphrastos did not make the slightest movement 
 to parry it ; folding his arms across his chest, he held 
 his furious antagonist in check with his cold glance, as 
 though he had been a vicious dog. For a moment 
 the two men stood motionless, gazing into each other's 
 faces, then they felt a grasp on the arm that seemed 
 like an iron band. 
 
 " No quarrelling !" said Lamon's deep voice and, 
 as the simplest way of restoring peace, he seized Aces- 
 tor round the loins and lifted him on the counter as 
 easily as if he had been a child. " Talk on !" he added 
 curtly, and returned to his seat without looking at him 
 as though it was a matter of course that he should be 
 obeyed. 
 
 Acestor passed his hand across his brow several 
 times, and it was long ere he could control his voice. 
 
 " If we desire to save Athens," he at last resumed, 
 " we must manage to have the friends of the rulers
 
 THE HETAERIA. 183 
 
 kept away from the popular assemblies. Then it will 
 not be difficult to destroy them ; for they have many 
 foes. 
 
 Lamon and Sthenelus uttered a murmur of disap- 
 proval. 
 
 It was a special agreement that the hetaeria 
 should labor only for the advantage of fellow members, 
 and not meddle in affairs of state. After exchanging 
 glances with Hipyllos, Thuphrastos, to the surprise of 
 every one, made a gesture as if he were not yet weary 
 of hearing what Acestor had to say. Still, the latter 
 felt that his listeners were not in harmony with him; 
 he paused abruptly, as if his thoughts were eluding 
 him, and then added, raising his voice louder and 
 louder as though trying to deafen himself with his own 
 words : 
 
 " Charicles and Aristocrates ought to resign their 
 offices, Peisandros must be banished and Phanos, who 
 has made so many citizens wretched by his pursuit of 
 the hetaeriae, shotild not only forfeit his position as 
 clerk, but have erected in some conspicuous place a 
 pillar of infamy bearing his name. 
 
 Here Acestor suddenly stopped and stared with 
 dilated eyes at the curtain between the pillars, as 
 though he had beheld through an opening all the hor- 
 rors of Hades. Without adding another word, he 
 jumped down from the counter and pointed with trem- 
 bling hand to the threshold between the columns. 
 
 All followed the direction of his eyes. 
 
 Under the green curtain was seen on each side a
 
 184 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 pair of feet. The sight of these motionless feet aroused 
 an indescribable excitement among the men. At first 
 no one believed his eyes; then all rose from their 
 couches. It was so still that, for the first time in the 
 course of the evening, the water was heard trickling 
 in the fulling-room adjoining. 
 
 " Dunces of slaves !" muttered Lamon, shaking his 
 clenched hand towards the interior of the house. 
 " You have forgotten the garden. They have come 
 upon us from the hill." 
 
 Hipyllos exchanged a significant glance with Thu- 
 phrastos and, pointing to Acestor, said in a very low 
 tone: 
 
 " It has turned out differently from what we ex- 
 pected. The jest has become earnest." 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Scarcely had the sudden silence warned those 
 standing outside that they were discovered, when the 
 curtain was drawn back. 
 
 The clerk Phanos, the persecutor of the hetaeriae, 
 entered the room, while his companion, a subaltern 
 officer of the city police, remained standing at the en- 
 trance. 
 
 "The house is surrounded!" cried the latter in a 
 loud voice. " No one can escape." 
 
 With these words he pulled the curtain farther aside
 
 THE HETAERIA. 185 
 
 and beyond it appeared, like a living wall, the dark 
 figures of the toxoternae or bowmen, whose helmets, 
 spears, and shields flashed in the torchlight. 
 
 All eyes were fixed on Phanos, a small, stout man, 
 with a pale, handsome face. A lock of black hair 
 hung low on his forehead, but the most remarkable 
 thing about him was his eyes — a pair of clear, light- 
 blue eyes, sparkling with intelligence, whose gaze was 
 doubly piercing because he bent his head a little and 
 looked out from under his eye-brows. It was evident 
 that those eyes forgot no one, and that each person 
 on whom they rested might as well have been recorded 
 in a book. He wore a plain white robe, entirely with- 
 out ornament, and had thrown a brown mantle around 
 him. 
 
 At sight of Phanos Acestor made a movement as 
 though he were about to escape through the peristyle. 
 " Where are you going ?" whispered Thuphrastos. 
 " You will run directly into the arms of the archers. 
 No, hide, hide! — Phanos has heard every word." 
 
 " In there !" added Xenocles hastily, pointing to 
 the door of the bleaching-room. " He hasn't seen you 
 yet. Perhaps you will be forgotten." 
 
 Acestor crept behind the counter and stole like a 
 thief into the bleaching-room, closing the door carefully 
 behind him. 
 
 It was quite time. Half a score of the slaves of 
 the city police pressed in from the peristyle and 
 watched every exit, among them the door through 
 which Acestor had slipped.
 
 l86 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 While this was happening Phanos had gazed 
 sternly around him, but at the sight of Thuphrastos 
 and Xenocles his face brightened. Approaching La- 
 mon, the owner of the house, he held out his hand. 
 
 " Lamon," he said, in so loud a tone that the offi- 
 cer and slaves could hear, " it is fortunate for you that 
 I meet men like Thuphrastos and Xenocles here. I 
 know them — they are plotting no evil. Your het- 
 aeria does not seem to be of the sort we so rigidly 
 pursue. You are office-seekers, not men striving to 
 usurp the government. I have now seen with my own 
 eyes. . . . Yet — did I not hear a chatterer shrieking 
 among you? He has shouted intolerably long; I'll 
 close his lips." 
 
 " If you heard that," replied Lamon, " you must 
 have heard our disapproval." 
 
 " Well then," continued Phanos, " speak frankly. 
 To what places do you want to be elected ?" 
 
 Lamon — and then the others — obeyed the com- 
 mand without hesitation. 
 
 " Very well !" Phanos then continued, " promise to 
 break up the hetaeria, and you shall lose nothing. 
 The places of which we dispose are not dependent 
 upon election, but are appointments. But there must 
 be no more meetings of the hetaeria. If, in spite of 
 your promise, you secretly assemble, woe betide you ! 
 No punishment will be too severe for us." 
 
 Without bending an inch, or condescending to flat- 
 tery, Thuphrastos thanked the clerk for his considera- 
 tion and, after having exchanged glances with Lamon
 
 THE HETAERIA. 187 
 
 and the others, promised, in the name of himself and 
 his friends, to disband the hetaeria. 
 
 Phanos now turned towards Hipyllos, the youngest 
 of the group. 
 
 " Bring me that shrieker," he said to him, " the 
 only one of you who fled." And, with a smile that 
 showed he had noticed everything, he pointed to the 
 door of the bleaching-room and added, " You'll find 
 him in there." 
 
 No command could have been more welcome to 
 Hipyllos. His heart throbbed with joyous anticipa- 
 tion; he had a presentiment that he was near his aim. 
 
 xxni. 
 
 The sentinel at the door made way at a sign from 
 Phanos, and Hipyllos hurried into the bleaching-room. 
 
 A suffocating odor of sulphur, mingled with a hor- 
 rible smell of urine and soap, greeted him. A copper 
 lamp was burning on a tripod placed near the wall, and 
 he scanned the whole apartment with a single glance. 
 At the back were five recesses in the wall containing 
 reservoirs of water, where lay soaking the material to 
 be stamped by the slaves on the morrow. In the 
 middle of the workshop stood a large stone table, on 
 which lay some batlets. On the left, over a pole under 
 the ceiling, hung a purple robe, in whose lower folded 
 part was flung an iron teasel. Behind this article of 
 clothing one could see the drying-room, where Hip-
 
 ISO PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 yllos noticed hundreds of garments hanging on long 
 poles. He was going to creep under them, when he 
 heard a smothered sound from the opposite direction. 
 Here, ranged along the wall, stood a number of wicker 
 baskets, the height of a man, which resembled hen- 
 coops. Clothes were spread over five or six where, as 
 the vapor in the room showed, sulphur had been re- 
 cently lighted to give them the requisite whiteness. 
 From one of the centre ones issued a strange stifled 
 moaning. 
 
 " I have him !" murmured Hipyllos smiling, as he 
 took hold of the handle on top shaped like an owl, the 
 sacred bird of Athens. When he had removed the 
 basket, Acestor sat crouching before him with half- 
 closed eyes, panting and groaning, almost fainting. 
 The sulphur under the clothes had nearly smothered 
 him, and Hipyllos found it diflicult to lift him upon his 
 legs. 
 
 But how entirely transformed was the stately Aces- 
 tor ! A couple of small metal jars filled with powdered 
 sulphur had been placed under the basket, ready for the 
 next day's bleaching. In his confusion and terror 
 Acestor had overturned them and, as he had after- 
 wards pressed his hands on his head, he had filled his 
 hair, eye-brows, and beard with sulphur, besides yellow 
 spots on his nose, forehead, and cheeks. He had no 
 sooner taken a few long breaths when he began to 
 sneeze as though his head would burst. He seemed to 
 be completely stupefied ; his limbs tottered under him 
 and he allowed himself to be led like a child.
 
 THE HETAERIA. 189 
 
 Without wasting a word upon him, Hipyllos 
 brought him before the waiting group. 
 
 At sight of this pitiful figure all burst into a shout 
 of laughter; even the slaves mounting guard laughed 
 till the spears shook in their hands. 
 
 " Why, why," said Phanos, " is this the hero who 
 banishes officials and erects pillars of infamy ? Who 
 would believe it ? Does he look like a murderer ?" 
 
 A fresh burst of laughter greeted the words. 
 
 "But — dangerous or not," Phanos continued, "he 
 lias committed a crime and deserves punishment." 
 
 " What has he done ?" asked Xenocles. 
 
 " He is a spurious citizen. His father's name can- 
 not be found in the temple of Apollo Patrous." 
 
 Acestor raised his head and fixed his eyes on 
 Phanos with a venomous glance. 
 
 " You are mistaken," he said. " It can be found 
 there." 
 
 " Where ?" 
 
 " By the side oi your father's name." 
 
 Phanos recoiled a step as though struck by an in- 
 visible shaft; but the next moment the veins in his 
 temples swelled, and his eyes flashed. 
 
 " Wretch !" he exclaimed, his lips quivering with in- 
 dignation. " My father's name is not to be found in 
 the temple — he was, as every one knows, a freedman. 
 Nevertheless, my right to citizenship is a legal one, be- 
 stowed for services rendered to the state. Note this, 
 Gobryas, son of Tisamenos." 
 
 These words fell upon Acestor like a thunder-bolt.
 
 IQO PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 At hearing his name, his real name, which he had be- 
 lieved concealed from every one, he perceived that all 
 was discovered. 
 
 Throwing himself at Phanos' feet, he raised his 
 arms submissively. 
 
 " Mercy !" he murmured, " mercy !" 
 
 " Do you know the dungeons in the cliff?" asked 
 Phanos sternly. 
 
 Acestor made a sign of assent. 
 
 " Well ! Sthenelus can tell you what rumor says of 
 them." 
 
 Merry Sthenelus limped a few steps nearer, cleared 
 his throat, and answered in a sepulchral voice : 
 
 " Rumor says that prisoners walk into them, but 
 are carried out, feet foremost." 
 
 Acestor kissed the edge of Phanos' robe. 
 
 " Mercy !" he cried. " Mercy ! Forgive my evil 
 speech." 
 
 " Spare him," said Xenocles. 
 
 " Let him run," added Thuphrastos. 
 
 " Well then," replied Phanos, " you boasted of your 
 travels, Acestor. You must journey farther still. If 
 you don't want to have your hair clipped and become 
 a slave for having your name spuriously inserted on the 
 citizens' list, you must leave Athens before to-morrow 
 noon." 
 
 Acestor bowed his head under Phanos' hand in 
 token of submission. 
 
 " Milon !" shouted Phanos.
 
 THE HETAERIA. I9I 
 
 The officer of the city-watch, who was still mount- 
 ing guard inside the curtain, came forward. 
 
 " Follow this man," said Phanos, pointing to Aces- 
 tor, " and don't lose sight of him. When he has 
 quitted Athens, report to me." 
 
 Milon grasped Acestor's arm and went away with 
 him. 
 
 Xenocles gazed after them. 
 
 " By Zeus !" he exclaimed, " believe me or not as 
 you choose, but I've always had a presentiment that 
 the eagle might become a crow." 
 
 " And I," replied Thuphrastos, " have always seen 
 the crow, never the eagle." 
 
 When, soon after, the house was cleared of the city- 
 watch, the friends looked at each other a moment in 
 silence. 
 
 " Who has done this ?" asked Lamon. 
 
 Thuphrastos shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Is there any way of knowing who has denounced 
 an hetaeria ?" he muttered. 
 
 *' It was probably Megas," whispered Lysiteles in 
 his faint, cracked voice. 
 
 " No," replied Sthenelus positively, " had it been 
 he, by Zeus, he would have been with them. Megas 
 would have wanted to enjoy the sight of our faces 
 when we were surprised. No, it was not he. I think 
 it was Cephidosemos, who watched Xenocles and myself 
 from behind the column. As an informer he is afraid 
 of drawing hatred on his head, so he keeps away."
 
 192 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Thuphrastos passed his hand thoughtfully over his 
 be^rd. 
 
 " What offices can Phanos bestow upon us ?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "I have heard," answered Lamon, "that a tax-col- 
 lector is to be sent to some of the rebellious cities. He 
 will have hundreds of soldiers with him. It would not 
 surprise me, Thuphrastos, if you should be appointed 
 to that office." 
 
 " Well !" exclaimed the old captain, " I shall rely 
 on Phanos' words. He never forgets." 
 
 "We will all trust him!" echoed the group in 
 chorus. 
 
 " But," continued Thuphrastos, turning to Xen- 
 ocles, " however we may fare, there is one person who 
 will lose. . . ." 
 
 " Whom do you mean ?" 
 
 " By Zeus, your daughter ! Was she not betrothed 
 to Acestor, and was not the wedding to have taken 
 place this very day ?" 
 
 Xenocles made a repellent gesture. 
 
 " Do not speak of it !" he cried. 
 
 " Well then," replied Thuphrastos, " I'll give you a 
 son-in-law and, by the gods, a better one than that 
 chatterer." 
 
 Xenocles raised his head with a questioning glance. 
 
 "The man I shall bring you is not far off," con- 
 tinued Thuphrastos. " Here you see Hipyllos ! He 
 loves the maiden. We know of him — what nobody 
 knew about that shrieker — that he is rich. He showed
 
 THE HETAERIA. I93 
 
 his courage at the battle of Antirrhium — he has ar- 
 chons in his family. What more can you desire ?" 
 
 " Nothing, by Zeus !" answered Xenocles laughing 
 and grasping the yovlng man's hand, " what objection 
 should I have to a son-in-law who will make me a 
 family connection of Lacrateides ?" 
 
 Hipyllos pressed Xenocles' hand in both his own. 
 
 " Father !" he cried warmly, " give me your daugh- 
 ter Clytie ! Neither you nor she shall repent it — that 
 I swear by all the gods." 
 
 Soon after Hipyllos stole out into the peristyle and 
 called his slave. 
 
 " Myrmex," he whispered, " hurry down to the 
 house of Sauros, the armorer. Ask for Ninus, the 
 priestess of Sabazius, and let her see that the young 
 lady and her slave return home at once without being 
 seen. Look, here is money." 
 
 When Hipyllos returned, the last discussion among 
 the hetaeria took place. It lasted an hour ; finally 
 the members of the society released one another from 
 their oaths and divided the money which had been 
 contributed. 
 
 As soon as possible Hipyllos slipped away, without 
 taking leave of any one except Lamon, the owner of 
 the house. 
 
 13
 
 194 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 HiPYLLOS walked swiftly down the hill. He 
 wanted to be the first to carry the glad tidings to 
 Clytie. 
 
 About half way he met Myrmex, who was appar- 
 ently returning after having performed his errand. As 
 the way was stony and the moon often concealed 
 behind clouds the old man had lighted a torch, but 
 Hipyllos wanted neither him nor his torch — he let the 
 moon light him as best it could and hurried past him, 
 exclaiming : 
 
 " Follow me, and put out the torch when you enter 
 the street." 
 
 Then, leaping rather than walking down the hill, 
 he turned into the dark, shaded Limnae, and soon saw 
 the familiar ray of light stream out to meet him from 
 the side-building of Xenocles' house. Hurrying tow- 
 ards it, he picked up a pebble from the ground and 
 flung it against the wall. 
 
 The red curtain was drawn aside and in the open- 
 ing appeared the object of his longing — Clytie ! As 
 the lamp stood back in the room the rays divided and 
 left her almost in darkness, but the youthful figure 
 formed a shadowy outline, which was quite enough to
 
 THE HETAERIA. I95 
 
 make a lover's heart throb. Though Hipyllos was un- 
 able to distinguish her features, the luxuriant hair, the 
 childish roundness of the cheeks, and the graceful 
 slope of the shoulders possessed bewitching suggestions 
 of youthful beauty, and Hipyllos knew that these signs 
 were no delusions. 
 
 Spite of the darkness outside, Clytie recognized him 
 and exclaimed : 
 
 " Eternal Gods ! What has happened ? Good or 
 evil fortune ? Speak, speak, I implore you." 
 
 Hipyllos listened in delight. Every word uttered 
 by the young girl's lips echoed with a silvery cadence 
 upon the silence of the night. 
 
 He pushed a log against the wall with his foot, and 
 sprang upon it. 
 
 " Dear, lovely Clytie," he whispered, *' give me 
 your hand ! What I have to say is surely worth a 
 clasp of the fingers." 
 
 He now told her in a few words the events of the 
 evening ; but he was apparently not satisfied with a 
 mere clasp of the hand. 
 
 Suddenly the street was illumined by a broad ray of 
 light and, though Hipyllos' shadow, gigantic and 
 strangely distorted, fell on the wall and the loop-hole 
 it was not difficult for the new-comers to see that he 
 was in the act of pressing his lips upon a dazzlingly 
 white arm, which vainly strove to escape the caress. 
 
 " Aha !" cried an angry voice, " a pretty sight, by 
 Heracles. . . ."
 
 196 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Clytie, with a half-stifled shriek, vanished from the 
 loop-hole and Hipyllos, turning, leaped down from the 
 log. 
 
 Accompanied by a slave bearing a blazing torch 
 Xenocles, after following a cross-path over the hill, had 
 just emerged from the shrubbery. Hipyllos had not 
 thought that the active httle man, spite of his age, was 
 almost as agile in his gait as he himself. 
 
 Xenocles seemed furiously enraged, and struck 
 fiercely at the youth with his clenched fists. 
 
 " Begone 1" he shouted. " Begone from my sight. 
 Do you suppose I will give my daughter to a rake who 
 steals to the maiden's room in the darkness of night. 
 Be off from here, I say ; Clytie shall never be your 
 wife." 
 
 At these words Hipyllos turned deadly pale and 
 his head swam. Now that all obstacles were removed, 
 now that he believed himself at the goal of his wishes, 
 this had happened so unexpectedly that it seemed as 
 though the earth had yawned under his feet. 
 
 Throwing himself at Xenocles' feet, he clasped his 
 knees and with tears in his eyes exclaimed in the most 
 imploring accents : " My father, punish me, let me be 
 scourged by your slaves — I will offer my back to 
 them myself, but forgive me ! Your daughter is dearer 
 to me than the hght of my eyes." 
 
 A singular twitching convulsed Xenocles' features ; 
 he averted his face, but unable to control himself, 
 burst into a loud laugh.
 
 THE HETAERIA. I97 
 
 "Young man," he said, when he was once more 
 capable of speech, " confess that I gave you a terrible 
 fright. But," he added, raising his voice, " you both 
 deserved it — she not less than you. Now I under- 
 stand the Avhole affair — had she not been accom- 
 panied by you, she would never have dared to fly 
 from her father's house at night." 
 
 Hipyllos scarcely knew hunself how he took leave 
 of Xenocles. Now that everything had resulted hap- 
 pily he was fairly intoxicated with joy. Attended by 
 Myrmex he wandered about, revelling in his delight, 
 through the moon-lit night. What cared he for the 
 rough rioters he met, or the muffled thieves who 
 watched behind the altars on the cross-roads. 
 
 Did not everything seem to smile upon him ? He 
 had come into the " Gardens," the lovehest part of 
 Athens. In the centre of the ground sloping towards 
 the river towered a tall plane-tree at whose foot a 
 fountain rippled ; around it stretched thickets of Agnus 
 castus trees, against whose dark background white 
 statues were clearly relieved. Of the nine sanctuaries 
 in this quarter the marble temple of Aphrodite gleamed 
 through dark, towering cypresses ; below it the waves 
 of the Ilissus, consecrated to the Muses, sparkled in 
 their deep channel, and from a path along the bank of 
 the stream gay conversation echoed upon the silence of 
 the night. Suddenly a youthful voice, which seemed 
 the embodiment of light-heartedness, began the follow- 
 ing song :
 
 198 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 " Wherefore, prithee, need I learn 
 Justice, law, and oratory ? 
 Wherefore must I my thoughts turn 
 To things valueless to me ? 
 Let me rather gaily seek 
 With my friends for mirth and joy, 
 Teach me tender words to speak 
 And with fair Aphrodite toy." 
 
 Hipyllos softly repeated the last words of the song. 
 He felt as though, like the gods themselves, he was 
 walking on the clouds. Just at that moment repeated 
 groans happened to attract his attention, and turning 
 he saw that his old slave could scarcely keep up with 
 him. 
 
 " What is the matter, Myrmex ?" he asked good- 
 naturedly. " Don't you see that I am as happy as a 
 god — and here you are growing worse than Sisyphus 
 himself." 
 
 " Don't be angry," whined the old man. " It is 
 growing late. Haven't we walked far enough to-day ?" 
 
 " Well then — home !" replied Hipyllos laughing, 
 "but to-morrow. . . ." 
 
 " What are you going to do ?" asked Myrmex 
 rather anxiously. 
 
 " To-morrow I shall go to the Lyceium to listen to 
 the wise teachings of Hippias from Elis. He who can 
 boast of being able to answer any question must surely 
 be a man of varied knowledge." 
 
 " And what do you want him to teach you ?" 
 
 " First to make happiness a household goddess."
 
 THE HETAERIA. 
 
 199 
 
 " And next ?" 
 
 " To bind her wings." 
 
 " So that she can always stay with you ?" 
 
 " Even so, wise Myrmex."
 
 TOO HAPPY. 
 
 THIRD YEAR OF THE qStH OLYMPIAD {^86 B.C.)
 
 TOO HAPPY. 
 
 One beautiful summer day in the month Metageit- 
 nion a large ship sailed past the eastern point of Crete 
 and steered with its two shovel-shaped rudders into the 
 ^gean Sea. A fresh east wind fluttered the purple 
 flag and made the white sail, strengthened by a net- 
 work of cordage, swell above the waves. 
 
 The ship was called a Samian, and its deeply- 
 arched bow showed that it was built to contain a large 
 cargo. Although nearly a quarter of a stadium long 
 — or about as large as the largest war- vessel of those 
 days — she was evidently a peaceful trader ; for below
 
 204 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 the protecting figure-head — a Doris, daughter of 
 Oceanus — with which the curve of the prow was 
 adorned and whose name the ship bore, one would 
 have vainly looked for the weapons peculiar to a ship's 
 armament, the projecting iron-shod embolus or beak. 
 On the stern was the statue of the goddess Athene, the 
 familiar '• Attic sign," which showed that the vessel 
 was an Athenian ship. To strengthen the joining of 
 the planks the hull, from stem to stem, was surrounded 
 with numerous belts of thick ropes which, like the hull 
 itself, were smeared with a mixture of pitch and wax. 
 Along the vessel's sides appeared a row of semi-circular 
 air-holes, and through the openings made for the rud- 
 ders ran the hawsers wound about a capstan. Out- 
 side, just below the figure-head, two huge eyes were 
 painted — probably to indicate that the ship under- 
 stood how to find her way over the sea. 
 
 At the curve of the prow, the highest part of the 
 Samian, where the bearded steersman managed the 
 double helm, stood a httle group of travellers talking 
 gaily with each other. They were Lydian and Phoe- 
 nician merchants, availing themselves of the oppor- 
 tunity to go to Athens, as the merchantman, after 
 having visited the most important ports in Asia Minor, 
 would return home fully laden to the Piraeeus for 
 repairs. 
 
 The sailors who had gathered in the bow sang 
 their monotonous songs or fell asleep, stretched in the 
 shade behind the sail, in the very act of chewing 
 onions, while some young slaves, busied in making
 
 TOO HAPPY. 205 
 
 preparations for an approaching meal, moved to and 
 fro among them. 
 
 At the foot of the mast was a red and white striped 
 tent, low enough not to interfere with the movements 
 of the sail. This tent was closed by a curtain, though 
 not so completely that those within could not keep an 
 eye upon a little white-robed boy four or five years old, 
 who was riding up and down on a speckled hobby- 
 horse. The space for play was very small and he 
 sometimes ran among a pile of chests and boxes, where 
 he tripped, stumbled, and almost fell. Whenever this 
 happened, a woman's voice inside the pavilion said : 
 
 " Callias must stay where mother told him — or 
 Mormo will come." 
 
 The tent contained two persons, the ship's owner 
 and master, a young Attic merchant, who was reclining 
 on a couch, and his wife, who sat on the edge of the 
 seat in front of him. 
 
 Glaucus — the merchant's name — was a man of five 
 and twenty, with a handsome, somewhat pallid face. 
 He was clad in a reddish-brown robe with a broad 
 white border and, as the summer day was scorching 
 hot, he wore no girdle around his waist. In his hand 
 he held a manuscript, but had let it fall by his side as 
 though his thoughts were not fixed on the contents 
 
 " No !" he suddenly exclaimed, as he pushed back 
 his dark locks and flung the scroll on a table, " I can- 
 not forget that strange man !" 
 
 " Who was he ?" asked his wife. 
 
 " How do I know, Charicleia ? He rowed out to
 
 2o6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 the ship in the bay of Celenderis to sell us some sheep 
 he had in his boat. You had gone on shore with the 
 slaves to make some purchases. Scarcely had he 
 come on board, ere he asked in the most simple- 
 minded way about everything he saw. He wanted to 
 know whether Indian ivory or Sardian purple was the 
 dearer, and whether a house could be built for the 
 money one of the gold embroidered carpets from 
 Babylon had cost." 
 
 " How did the man look ?" asked Charicleia. 
 
 "He resembled Heracles, as he is represented on 
 the stage by the actors. He was tall, large-limbed, 
 walked with his back bent, was clumsy and awkward 
 in his movements, and had tangled hair hanging low 
 on his forehead." 
 
 "What else did he notice on board ?" 
 
 " He could not weary of examining everything. 
 He had never supposed that there were ships so large. 
 Finally he became so troublesome that I ordered my 
 sailors to put him back in his boat ; but the giant de- 
 fended himself and — quicker than speech — two of 
 my steersmen lay stretched on the deck, one with his 
 face bleeding from a blow. Frantic with rage, I 
 gripped his breast, shouting : " Quit my ship. Bar- 
 barian or, by Zeus, you will fare ill. But lo ! some- 
 thing very like a miracle happened before our eyes. 
 At the word : ' Barbarian,' he drew himself up, flung 
 back his hair, and suddenly stood before us like a 
 totally different being. His stupid look had vanished, 
 his eyes flashed, and his huge figure and dark face
 
 TOO HAPPY. 207 
 
 made a terrible impression of untamed strength and 
 fierceness. ' We shall meet again, Athenian !' he said 
 and, pushing my people aside like bundles of straw, he 
 swung himself down into the boat and rowed swiftly to 
 the shore." 
 
 " Glaucus," said the young wife, turning pale, " I 
 am afraid of this man." 
 
 " Simpleton !" replied Glaucus smiling, " you ought 
 rather to rejoice " and, lowering his voice, he added : " I 
 long for some touch of adversity. We are too fortu- 
 nate, we fare like the happy gods. We have nothing 
 to desire. . . . Have I not a superabundance of prop- 
 erty and wealth, a spacious, handsome house, large 
 store-houses in Athens and the Piraeeus, numerous 
 ships at sea, and a beautiful villa at Salamis ? And as 
 to the future, have I not my little Callias to inherit all 
 I possess ?" 
 
 Now that he had spoken of his wealth and his 
 son, he thought of his wife. In ancient times women 
 were little valued. 
 
 Half rising on his couch he let his eyes rest on 
 Charicleia's figure. Her thin, light dress, with a pat- 
 tern of small green leaves, displayed the delicate neck 
 and white shoulders, and the mere way in which she 
 carried her head revealed the young oikodespoina 
 (mistress of the house) who was born of a noble race 
 and accustomed to command numerous slaves. 
 
 Glaucus clasped her soft, ringed hand. 
 
 " And have I not, he added, '* a good and beauti- 
 ful wife ?"
 
 2o8 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Charicleia raised her dark eyes to his and rephed 
 by a pressure of the hand that meant : " And haven't 
 I the best and handsomest of husbands ?" 
 
 " Don't look at me so, my bee,* said Glaucus smil- 
 ing. " My whole soul yearns to you. But you know 
 what the sailors say : ' Ships must be kept free from 
 Aphrodite's lures, first because they are sacred, and 
 secondly because it isn't right to trifle, when there is 
 only a plank between us and death.' " 
 
 Charicleia was not listening to him. 
 
 "So you think," she said reflectively, "that we are 
 too happy. Do you fear the envy of the gods ?" 
 
 " I do," Glaucus whispered, as though afraid of 
 being heard by invisible ears. 
 
 " Console yourself, my friend. The happy gods 
 have no wishes. But I have one so important to me 
 that the doubt of its fulfilment is a thorn in my heart." 
 
 " And what is this desire ?" asked Glaucus in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " That, when our lives draw near their end, we may 
 (lie together. Thmk, Glaucus, if one of us should sud- 
 denly be left alone. Beneficent Gods ! how often I 
 have prayed ye to avert this misfortune." 
 
 " Beware, Charicleia !" said Glaucus gravely. " Do 
 not pray for foolish things. Life and death are in the 
 power of the gods — what do we know about them ? 
 Perhaps you would bitterly repent your wish, if the 
 heavenly powers should grant it." 
 
 "* A common term of endearment for women. Of course the al- 
 lusion was not to the bee as armed with a sting, but to the producer 
 of honey, the sweetest thing known at that period.
 
 TOO HAPPY. 209 
 
 " Oh, no, no !" cried Charicleia. " Let death come 
 when and as it will, if it only snatches us away to- 
 gether." 
 
 With these words she drew the curtain of the tent 
 aside. Before them lay the glittering sea, furrowed 
 with its greenish billows, which seemed to roll sleepily 
 away in the sunshine. In the distance two of the 
 Cyclades raised their rocky heights towards the sky, 
 and far away to the north towered some bluish-black 
 clouds, so sharply outlined against the clear azure of 
 the heavens that they resembled jagged mountain peaks. 
 
 " If my wish has found favor with Ye, Heavenly 
 Powers," cried Charicleia, raising her arms with south- 
 ern fervor towards the sky, " oh ! give me, in my hus- 
 band's presence, a sign that my prayer will be granted." 
 
 Stepping entirely out of the pavilion she gazed 
 around her. Glaucus had risen from the couch and, 
 standing in the shadow, followed the direction of her 
 glance. Even little Callias had a presentiment that 
 something was expected. Pausing in his play, he ran 
 to his mother and took hold of her dress. 
 
 Just at that moment a dazzling flash of lightning 
 darted from the dark sky far away, followed in a few 
 moments by the roll of distant thunder. Three white 
 birds, one small and two large ones, flew with rapid 
 strokes of their long wings over the ship, following 
 each other at precisely the same distance, as though 
 bound together by some invisible chain. They mounted 
 higher and higher as if they wanted to soar into the 
 sky and soon became mere indistinct si^ecks. 
 14
 
 210 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 " Look !" exclaimed Charicleia, her face radiant 
 with joy, " they come from the riglit and move towards 
 the left. My prayer will be fulfilled." And kneeling, 
 she stretched her arms towards the sky, saying : 
 '■'■ DecJiomai ton oionon ' I accept the omen." 
 
 Again from the distance, as if in confirmation, 
 echoed a low peal of thunder. 
 
 " But," remarked Glaucus, " there were three birds, 
 one smaller than the others. . . . ?" 
 
 " My friend," said Charicleia, clasping his hands, 
 " perhaps it is the will of the gods that we must die 
 while Callias is still a child. In that case I accept the 
 omen for him also. Let him follow us !" 
 
 Whatever impression this scene had made upon 
 Glaucus, it had not escaped his notice that meantime a 
 strange tumult had arisen on deck. Eager, anxious 
 conversation echoed from the stern where the steers- 
 man stood, several young slaves were running to and 
 fro, nay even the lazy sailors in the bow were begin- 
 ning to move. Some of them strolled slowly past the 
 tent. 
 
 " What has happened ?" asked Glaucus. 
 
 " A small vessel has been sighted in the offing. ..." 
 began one. 
 
 " Which seems to be followmg us," added another. 
 
 Glaucus went to the steersman. 
 
 " Ever since we passed Rhodus," said the latter, 
 " that little ship yonder has been following us, always 
 steering in the same direction. Twice I have inten-
 
 TOO HAPPY. 211 
 
 tionally tacked, and each time I saw that the vessel 
 turned with us. So I fear she is a CiUcian pirate." 
 
 " Come here, Egyptian !" said Glaucus, beckoning 
 to the oldest of the sailors, a bald, grey-bearded man of 
 very singular aspect. 
 
 He had been dubbed " Egyptian " because for 
 many years he had sailed to Busiris, Bubastis, and 
 other cities on the Nile. No one had ever seen him 
 wear anything except a garment of braided mats, 
 through which his lean arms and legs looked like a 
 little child's first rude drawings of the human figure. 
 His skin seemed tanned by the Libyan sun and never 
 appeared clean, and his mouth was a tightly closed 
 straight line as if he had no lips. It might be sup- 
 posed that few words escaped them. 
 
 " What do you think, Egyptian ?" said Glaucus, 
 raising his voice — the man was somewhat deaf. 
 
 " The rustling of a fig-leaf," * replied the Egyptian 
 curtly, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 " What kind of craft do you think she is ?" asked 
 Glaucus. 
 
 " A Myoparian," was the reply. 
 
 " Myoparian (nimble as a mouse) was the name 
 given to small swift-sailing ships belonging to the Cy- 
 clades. In earlier times they had often been used 
 to plunder trading-vessels, but at this date were em- 
 ployed only for peaceful purposes and had the best 
 reputation. 
 
 * A false alarm.
 
 212 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 The Egyptian's statement was therefore eagerly 
 welcomed. 
 
 " The man is right," said one of the Phoenician 
 merchants, stroking his braided beard. " How often 
 small ships are seen following large ones ! It is partly 
 because their captains think the steersmen of large 
 vessels have more experience and partly because they 
 hope for a refuge in case of need." 
 
 " But," objected one of the travelers, " pirates can 
 just as well pursue us in a Myoparian they have cap- 
 tured as in any other vessel." 
 
 " May I be permitted to speak. Master," said a na- 
 tive-born Athenian slave, turning to Glaucus. He was 
 a young man with a refined, intelligent face, whose 
 natural beauty was not even destroyed by hair closely 
 cut after the slave-fashion. 
 
 Glaucus nodded assent. 
 
 " I think the steersman is right," said the youth. 
 " If that vessel is as fleet as is said, yet holds back, 
 there is surely some evil intended, which will not ap- 
 pear until the time seems favorable." 
 
 So the talk went on and the most contradictory 
 opinions were expressed. The dispute was not yet 
 over at the approach of sunset. 
 
 The western sky was radiant with golden light and 
 far above the ship a few thin clouds, which formerly 
 had scarcely been noticed, were clearly relieved against 
 the deep azure as they assumed a bright crimson hue, 
 which made them resemble light feathers. Even the 
 sea shared the sunset splendor and mirrored the fiery
 
 TOO HAPPY. 213 
 
 glow, against which the long billows looked like dark, 
 moving streaks. 
 
 The Samian made little headway. The sail flapped 
 feebly to and fro ; there was not wind enough to fill it, 
 and ere the sun had sunk beneath the sea the last faint 
 breeze had died away. 
 
 The rowers were now obhged to take their seats; 
 the celeustis began the monotonous chant that marked 
 the time, yet nimbly as the oars moved, the great ship 
 advanced slowly. 
 
 It was far different with the small vessel, whose dis- 
 tance seemed gradually to decrease, and there could 
 soon be no doubt that it was gaining upon the Attic 
 ship. Ere long those on the latter could see the white 
 foam washing under the Myoparian's bow — a sign of 
 the speed with which she was moving — and soon 
 after they perceived that she was strongly manned and 
 had all her oars out. From that time the vessel ap- 
 proached so swiftly that it seemed to grow every mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Suddenly one of the Lydian merchants exclaimed 
 in a loud voice : 
 
 " It's all over with us ! They are pirates, the craft 
 is Thyamis' ship from Coracesium. Once before I have 
 been robbed by him and barely escaped with my life." 
 
 At these words indescribable terror and confusion 
 arose on board. Some covered their faces to await 
 death, others uttered loud lamentations and wrung 
 their- hands irresolutely; a few tried to hide in the 
 ship's hold, others wanted to have the boats lowered to
 
 214 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 escape by flight, and some young slaves, in their fear of 
 losing a life which scarcely seemed of any special 
 value, ran to and fro as though out of their senses. 
 
 Amid this universal irresolution the Myoparian 
 came close behind. 
 
 Glaucus comforted his wife with a few soothing 
 words and told her to stay inside of the tent with little 
 Callias. He himself went to the stern, collected the 
 passengers and sailors around him, and said : 
 
 " Friends, if we do not repulse that wretch's attack^ 
 many of us must lose our lives. But we are numerous 
 enough, if we only resolve to do so, to save ourselves 
 and the ship. Besides the steersman and myself there 
 are on board five foreign merchants and six sailors ; so 
 in all we have thirteen free men, while of slaves there 
 are the fourteen oarsmen, four slaves of my own, and 
 ten who accompanied the foreign merchants. As the 
 Myoparian has no boats, we can only be attacked on 
 one side and there only for a distance not exceeding 
 the length of yonder little vessel. Twenty brave men 
 would be enough to repel such an assault, and we, — 
 including freemen and slaves — number more than 
 forty ! You can obtain weapons from the steersman ; 
 for though I have never met pirates until now, I have 
 always been ready to receive them. If we repulse the 
 attack, I will free my slaves and give each sailor a 
 large reward. Show courage and firmness — and the 
 victory will be ours. Besides, we shall fight from a 
 higher position as if we were in a fortress." 
 
 " Let them come," said the steersman coolly, " we'll
 
 TOO HAPPY. 215 
 
 receive them in such a way that hereafter they'll avoid 
 attacking an Attic ship." 
 
 The crew, in answer to these words, maintained an 
 ominous silence and, when the steersman distributed 
 the weapons, he noticed that many of the men were re- 
 luctant to take them. 
 
 One of the rowers, a Cretan with a sly, crafty face, 
 had alarmed the men on their way to him. 
 
 " Don't be simpletons !" he had said. '' Throw the 
 swords into the sea in time. Those whom the pirates 
 catch with arms in their hands will be killed at once." 
 
 Meantime twilight had begun to close in. The 
 glowing colors in the sky had faded, the black storm- 
 cloud had risen higher, and the sea stretched sullen 
 and leaden-hued below. 
 
 The Myoparian glided past the ship at some dis- 
 tance. It was a proud sight to behold the light craft, 
 with a fringe of snow-white foam before her prow, cut 
 through the billows, while the glittering oars rose and 
 fell in regular time. The pirate swept round the Athe- 
 nian ship in a wide curve and, as though to display her 
 superiority, encircled it several times in ever narrowing 
 rounds, so that the big, clumsy Samian lay as though 
 besieged by this one little craft. 
 
 Suddenly a score of fir-wood torches were lighted 
 on board the Myoparian and, by the glare of their red, 
 flaring flames, reflected like quivering streaks of fire 
 over the sea, the vessel was seen swarming with dark, 
 threatening figures, among whom, ever and anon, was 
 noticed the ghnt of shining arms. There was some-
 
 2l6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 thing strangely gloomy about this glimmer which made 
 the Egyptian say : 
 
 " Do you see those weapons ? They cut the eye 
 as they wound the flesh." 
 
 On an empty space near the pirate's stem stood 
 her captain, a gigantic man, clad with barbaric splen- 
 dor. Around his dark hair was bound a broad fillet of 
 yellow byssus, embroidered with gold ; a superb violet- 
 blue upper-robe hung loosely over his shoulders and 
 opened over a dazzlingly-white chiton, fastened with a 
 gold belt. On his feet he had short endromides or 
 half boots of the same magnificent hue as his upper 
 robe, and in his hand he held a trident of polished 
 steel that sparkled and flashed in the torch-hght. 
 
 " Woe betide us ! Woe betide us !" repeated the 
 Lydian merchant, who had first recognized the vessel. 
 It is Thyamis, the most terrible of all the Cilician cor- 
 sairs. 
 
 Glaucus, too, recognized the man in spite of his 
 changed exterior. Now he understood why the giant 
 had desired to see everything on board when the 
 Samian lay at anchor in the bay at Celenderis. 
 
 The Myoparian with a few powerful strokes of the 
 oars approached still nearer, so that it lay side by side 
 with the Attic ship. 
 
 At a sign from his captain one of the pirates sprang 
 upon the gunwale and shouted to the crew of the mer- 
 chantman : 
 
 " Luckless men ! Why do you seek death ? Why
 
 TOO HAPPY. 
 
 217 
 
 resist a superior force ? Yield the ship, then you can 
 get into your boats and row wherever you choose." 
 
 But Glaucus stepped into the stern of his ship and 
 answered : 
 
 " Wretches ! Know that we lack neither men nor 
 weapons. If you attack, we will defend ourselves and 
 fight till the victory is ours." 
 
 The corsairs' reply was only a jeering laugh. 
 
 Then there was a great bustle on board the Myo- 
 parian. The mast was raised, hoisting a yard consist- 
 ing of two pieces, from which hung a large dark object 
 bearing a certain resemblance to a dolphin, for it was 
 distaff-shaped, thickest in the middle and lessening at 
 both ends. This object was evidently very heavy; 
 the mast creaked and strained and the yard bent per- 
 ceptibly under its weight. 
 
 The pirate-ship again approached the merchantman 
 and lay alongside. A man with an evil, almost 
 animal face, wearing a red Phrygian cap on his head, 
 climbed up the yard far enough to be able to look 
 down on the Samian's deck, 
 
 "Too late to yield now !" he shouted. " Now you 
 must all die." 
 
 At these words some of the young slaves burst into 
 loud lamentations; but above every other sound 
 echoed from the tent a frightened child's sobbing and 
 wailing, which would not be silenced, no matter how 
 tenderly it was hushed. 
 
 " What a horrible bawler !" cried the man with the
 
 2l8 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Phrygian cap. " Just wait ! When the dolphin comes, 
 he'll stop his mouth." 
 
 Then, swinging himself over among the rigging 
 that supported the mast, he called to the men below : 
 " Heave !" 
 
 The pirates, with a quick swing, brought the yard 
 over the great ship. The man in the red cap pulled 
 with all his might at a rope he held in his hand, and 
 the missile suspended from the yard — the so-called 
 " dolphin," a leaden mass of immense weight, plunged 
 down upon the tent just as Charicleia came out of it, 
 holding the crying child by the hand. There was a 
 terrible, deafening crash, the ship trembled from mast- 
 head to keel as though every seam was separating ; 
 almost at the same moment there was heard — this 
 time under the deck — a similar crash, accompanied by 
 a violent jarring and a strange, gurgling, rippling noise 
 like the bubbling of a spring. 
 
 The tent was dragged down and partly covered a 
 yawning hole in the deck, from which rose splinters 
 yards long. Charicleia had felt little Callias' hand 
 torn from hers by some terrible, resistless power, and 
 at the same moment, while half buried under the folds 
 of the tent, a warm, sticky stream had spurted over her 
 foot. Though she had not seen it, she well knew what 
 it was. 
 
 Pale as a corpse, she staggered back a step and 
 seemed on the verge of fainting. Then, as if in a 
 dream, she heard the red-capped corsair burst into a 
 laugh and call to his comrades :
 
 TOO HAPPY. 2I9> 
 
 " You see, it hit ! The bawler is silenced. He has 
 ridden down to Hades on the dolphin." 
 
 At the words and laugh a mist of blood seemed to 
 dim Charicleia's eyes ; she seized a sword and with the 
 scream of a wild beast rushed upon the wretch, who 
 was clinging with one hand to the rigging of the pirate- 
 vessel and with the other to the Samian. He had no 
 time to parry the attack, no time to open his lips, ere 
 the glittering weapon was buried to the hilt in his 
 breast. He moved his head and neck several times as 
 if stifling, a stream of blood welled from his mouth, the 
 red cap fell off", his hands loosed their grip, and he fell 
 headlong into the dark gulf between the ships. 
 
 A fierce cry of rage rose from the pirates; they 
 placed ladders against the trader's bow and some of 
 the boldest sprang on her deck — others followed. 
 
 Deeply as Glaucus was moved, he made every 
 effort to inspire his men with courage, but most of 
 them threw down their arms and begged the corsairs 
 to spare their lives. 
 
 Thyamis now gave orders to stop the slaughter and 
 commanded the sailors and foreign merchants to leave 
 the ship without taking anything except the clothes 
 they wore. The slaves were compelled to go in 
 couples on board the pirate craft. 
 
 The Samian's boat was lowered into the water, 
 and the seamen vied with each other in leaping in, 
 believing that they would only be safe when far away 
 from Thyamis and his band. Overcrowded though 
 this boat was, there was no danger; the sea was calm,
 
 220 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 there were men enough to row, and the distance to the 
 nearest of the Cyclades was not great. 
 
 Glaucus and his wife were now led down to the 
 Myoparian, while Thyamis went on board of the Sa- 
 mian. He showed his men where the ivory, purple, 
 and gold-embroidered carpets from Babylon were to be 
 found, and the costliest part of the cargo was soon 
 transferred to the pirate craft. The merchantman 
 filled faster and faster, and already lay considerably 
 lower. 
 
 Thyamis ordered his vessel to be rowed away from 
 the sinking ship. 
 
 The darkness had gradually increased and the 
 Samian looked like a black, shapeless mass. The 
 part of the hull still remaining above the water grew 
 smaller and smaller. Suddenly the stern sank and, 
 with a strangely unexpected movement, the prow rose 
 high in the air for a moment, then the great ship sank 
 with terrible speed. A roaring noise like a whirlpool 
 echoed over the sea, and a spot of whirling snow-white 
 foam for a short time marked the spot where the vessel 
 had gone down. 
 
 Glaucus, who had watched the scene, pressed his 
 wife's hand. 
 
 " The envious wretches !" he exclaimed with sup- 
 pressed fury. " It was my best and handsomest ship." 
 
 Charicleia raised her eyes to heaven in mute accu- 
 sation. 
 
 Soon after both were brought before Thyamis, who 
 sat in all his splendor upon a sort of throne at the
 
 TOO HAPPY. - 22 r 
 
 Stern. As they approached he rose with a courtesy 
 that boded ill. 
 
 " Do not imagine, Glaucus," he said " that it is my 
 intention to detain you and your wife captive to extort 
 a ransom. We Barbarians, though inferior to you, are 
 also men of honor. Athenian, depart in peace to your 
 native city." 
 
 The pirates now brought a ladder and fastened it 
 outside of the ship, so that the end touched the water; 
 then they formed two ranks, holding flaring torches to 
 light the descent to the sea. 
 
 " I salute you, Glaucus !" added Thyamis, pointing 
 to the ladder : " The way is open. You and your wife 
 are free !" 
 
 Glaucus stood as though petrified by this grewsome 
 jest. But the pirates pressed upon him with their 
 torches and compelled him and his wife to approach 
 the ladder. Charicleia was deadly pale, and trembled 
 so that she could scarcely stand. Glaucus clasped her 
 hand, whispering : 
 
 " Take courage ! Your dearest wish will be ful- 
 filled. Did you not say : ' Let death come 7vhen and 
 as it will, if it only snatches us away together.' And 
 did you not yourself accept the omen ?" 
 
 The young wife's eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " Forgive me !" she stammered. " I did not know 
 what I was asking." 
 
 With a look in which love conquered the fear of 
 death she raised her eyes to her husband's face and
 
 2 22 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 threw her arms around his neck. Glaucus clasped her 
 waist and went slowly down the steps of the ladder. 
 
 When he had reached the last one he paused and 
 glanced up at the ship. But at the sight of the pirates' 
 curious, malicious faces, which did not express even 
 the faintest touch of compassion, he understood that 
 all hope was over and, too proud to beg for his life, he 
 pressed Charicleia closer to his breast and took the 
 fatal step from the last round of the ladder. 
 
 The sea closed over their heads, forming a small, 
 swiftly revolving whirlpool, and through this narrowing 
 circle the too happy mortals, united in death as in life, 
 entered the great unknown country whence no one 
 returns.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 
 
 SECOND YEAR OF THE 103D OLYMPIAD (367 B.C.)
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 
 
 Few young men in Athens had so many acquaint- 
 ances as Lycon, yet he did not possess a single friend. 
 He was courteous to all, but intimate with no one, had 
 a care-free disposition, liked to try his luck at astra- 
 gals * or dice, always knew where the best Chian wine 
 and the prettiest girls could be found, and was never 
 
 * A game like knuckle-bones. 
 IS
 
 226 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 unwilling to lend an acquaintance a few drachmae. 
 So Lycon was universally esteemed, nay people even 
 overlooked certain eccentricities which were contradic- 
 tory to Attic custom. For instance, he never visited 
 the gymnasium, and when some one spoke to him 
 about it, he carelessly replied : 
 
 " What should I do there ? Oratory and subtleties 
 of speech I don't understand — and why train my 
 body ? I'm strong enough as I am, and have better 
 uses for my time." 
 
 As to Lycon's appearance — he had handsome, 
 though rather harsh black hair, manly, somewhat stern 
 features, large heavy eyebrows, a short but thick beard, 
 a broad-shouldered, strongly-built frame, and unusually 
 large hands, from which he received the nickname 
 Lycon ho makrocheir, Lycon with the big hand. 
 
 He was entered on the citizens' list as Lycon, son 
 of Megacles. But nobody had known this Megacles, 
 and no one could tell where the house of Lycon's 
 parents stood, or had stood. All that was known 
 about him was that, two years before, he had suddenly 
 appeared in Athens — as he said, after a long residence 
 in Bithynia where his father had died. Now and then 
 it was whispered that he was " a spurious citizen," and 
 at one of the examinations to which these lists were oc- 
 casionally subjected, he was questioned by the de- 
 marchs or district inspectors. To them Lycon stated 
 that his father had been a ship's captain and for many 
 years had been absent from Athens; he had himself 
 gone to sea with him, and the rough work on board
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 227 
 
 had given him large, hard hands. One of the de- 
 marchs, a rich ship-owner, thought he could entrap 
 Lycon by questioning him about the names of the 
 various parts of a vessel. But the latter was at no loss 
 for an answer. This resulted greatly to his advantage ; 
 the ship-owner declared himself satisfied, and Lycon's 
 name remained on the list. 
 
 Still, there were many strange things about him. 
 For instance, he knew so little of the poets that, as the 
 jester Stephanus said, he might easily have been per- 
 suaded that one of Pindar's odes was written by 
 Homer. But, if any one laughed at such stupendous 
 ignorance, Lycon said : 
 
 " You are laughing at my pedagogue, not at me. 
 It is his fault. He was so weak that he submitted to 
 everything, and we played and quarrelled during the 
 time we ought to have learned something useful." 
 
 It was one of Lycon's peculiarities that, though he 
 never refused an invitation to a drinking-bout, he had 
 no inclination to attend any of the great festivals to 
 which strangers flocked from all parts of Hellas, the 
 islands, and the new colonies, to see the processions, 
 the performances at the theatre, or the torchlight races. 
 On such days Lycon either remained at home in his 
 little house in the Ceriadae suburb, or went away for 
 a short journey, remaining absent until the strangers 
 might be supposed to have left Athens. This singular 
 conduct was not noticed by many, for on holidays 
 most persons have enough to do to attend to their own 
 affairs. But the few who did remark it marvelled.
 
 228 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Only one individual knew the cause of Lycon's ec- 
 centricities. This was the artist Aristeides from The- 
 bes, a quiet, thoughtful young man, who never said 
 more than he meant. He enjoyed a high reputation 
 for his powerful picture of the battle between the Per- 
 sians and Macedonians, a painting containing hundreds 
 of human figures ; but his master-piece was the plun- 
 dering of a captured city, in which a dying mother 
 holds her delicate babe away from her breast, that it 
 may not drink blood instead of milk. 
 
 This Aristeides once went on a pleasure excursion 
 with Lycon — both on horseback, attended by a single 
 slave — to the beautifully located Deceleia at the foot 
 of Mt. Parnes. Wearied by the noon-tide heat, they 
 sought shelter on the way in the wretched log-hut 
 owned by a poor countryman, who received them kindly, 
 gave them a bowl of fresh goat's-milk, and offered 
 them his rude bed ; but it was so dirty that, after ex- 
 changing glances, they begged permission to lie on the 
 hay stored in the shed opposite. The man led the 
 way there. Lycon stretched himself comfortably upon 
 the fragrant hay, yawned, and fell asleep. Aristeides 
 also slept, but was roused soon after by a movement of 
 Lycon and, turning over, suddenly felt broad awake. 
 
 Lycon's robe had opened at the throat, baring his 
 shoulder. On the sunburned skin appeared a large 
 white scar, consisting of three marks which together 
 formed a kappa.* 
 
 * Kappa, the letter K. This is an abbreviation of the word 
 Klcmma, theft. Slaves were usually branded on the forehead (or on
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 229 
 
 *' A slave !" cried Aristeides, " and branded !" 
 
 At first he was almost stupefied; then he moved 
 away from Lycon's side and sat down on a log a short 
 distance off". 
 
 " Now I understand everything," he thought, " his 
 fear of undressing in the gymnasium — his unknown 
 origin — his large hands — his ignorance of the poets 
 — and his absence during the great festivals. ... So 
 he is a fugitive slave, and has been punished for theft. 
 Before his flight he probably robbed his master and of 
 no inconsiderable sum. He was entered in the citi- 
 zens' list by bribery, and now the thievish, branded 
 slave fives in Athens as a free citizen, and enjoys him- 
 self on his defrauded master's money." 
 
 Aristeides rose to go to the city magistrates, but 
 ere he left the shed he started and listened. 
 
 Lycon was laughing in his sleep. 
 
 There was something so joyous and light-hearted 
 in his laughter that Aristeides involuntarily paused. 
 
 " Look !" murmured Lycon, stretching out his arm 
 as though pointing, " now fat Dryas is jumping ! — The 
 leather bottle is bursting — he'll fall — plump ! there 
 he lies on his stomach in the water." 
 
 And Lycon laughed again. 
 
 " No !" said Aristeides, " a man who laughs in his 
 sleep like a child is not wicked. . . . Who knows 
 whether freedom has not made him a different and a 
 better man ? Certainly nothing dishonorable is known 
 
 tiie ears or hands.) The mark seems to have been stamped on the 
 shoulder only by special favor, when the offence was trivial.
 
 230 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 about him, and he is universally respected, . . . Per- 
 haps his master has made up his loss long ago. Per- 
 haps he has himself repaid the stolen money ; he has 
 slaves who work for him. Besides, how does the mat- 
 ter concern me ?" 
 
 The artist went nearer to the sleeper and looked at 
 him. 
 
 A pleasant smile was hovering around Lycon's 
 mouth. " Take this !" he muttered, and his big hand 
 made a gesture as if he were giving alms." 
 
 Aristeides felt a sudden inspiration. 
 
 " Had the gods desired to punish him," he thought, 
 " they would have made him betray himself to a foe, 
 not to a friend." 
 
 Glad to have found such a consolation to his mind, 
 he carefully drew Lycon's robe together and fastened 
 it at the neck. His hand shook a little as he did so. 
 If Lycon should suddenly open his eyes, what might 
 he not do in his despair at seeing his secret discovered 1 
 
 But Lycon slept on. Without rousing him, Aris- 
 teides went around into the shade behind the house, 
 where the slaves were waiting with the horses. Beck- 
 oning to Lycon's servant, he said : 
 
 " When your master wakes, tell him that a dream I 
 had in my sleep compels me to return home at once. 
 Beg him from me to go on as though I were still in his 
 company." 
 
 With these words he swung himself on the horse 
 and rode away so fast that his slave could scarcely fol- 
 low him.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 23I 
 
 From that hour Aristeides held aloof from Lycon, 
 without attracting any special attention from the latter. 
 But whenever, later, conversation turned upon Lycon's 
 eccentricities Aristeides found special gratification in 
 going as near the truth as possible. He always said : 
 
 " There is a sign that explains them." 
 
 Did he make the remark from a vague spite against 
 Lycon or a child's delight in playing with fire ? He 
 did not know himself- but he never said more. 
 
 n. 
 
 Lycon, who suspected no evil, continued his usual 
 mode of life. One noon he went to the house of a 
 freedman named Opasion, who usually had gay doings 
 in his home, as he lived by entertaining young men. 
 The little peristyle, scarcely ten feet long, was filled 
 with a noisy, laughing party. Half a score of youths 
 in mantles of every hue had formed a circle around 
 two fighting quails. 
 
 " I'll bet fifteen drachmae against you, Opasion," 
 shouted one voice. 
 
 " So will I," added a second. 
 
 " Hegesias' quail is braver. See, your bird is 
 giving way, Opasion — it yields again. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 Now it's outside of the circle." 
 
 " Conquered, conquered !" shouted the whole party 
 in chorus, joined by the freedman. 
 
 " Your bird lost, Opasion. Down with the money."
 
 232 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 The freedman, a short, stout fellow, with a foxy 
 face, lifted a rumpled bird in the air and shrieked into 
 its ear, as though trying to drown the shouts of victory. 
 At the same time the other bird was borne away in 
 triumph, and then carefully taken under its owner's 
 arm as if it were the most costly treasure. 
 
 Lycon walked carelessly on to the so-called ban- 
 queting hall found in every large house, but which 
 usually offered only a very limited space. He cast 
 a hurried glance around the room but saw no strange 
 faces. Seven or eight young men whom he met every 
 day were just breakfasting, reclining singly or in pairs 
 upon leather-covered couches, before which stood small 
 tables bearing numerous spots of grease and the marks 
 of wet goblets. 
 
 At the back of the room a couple of half naked 
 boys, slaves, were busily washing cups and dishes, and 
 not far from them on a low chair without a back sat 
 two young girls from fifteen to twenty years old. 
 They were whispering eagerly together, and by the 
 way they fixed their eyes on the young men reclining 
 upon the couches, it was easy to guess the subject of 
 the talk. Both were pretty, but their bold glances and 
 careless laughter showed that they were women of free 
 lives, accustomed to associate with men. 
 
 The older and larger of the two held in her hand a 
 Phrygian double flute. Her back hair was covered 
 by a blue kerchief and the locks on her brow were 
 adorned with a clasp of polished steel. Her whole 
 costume consisted of a saftron-yellow robe, originally
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 233 
 
 fine and costly, now somewhat frayed, open at the 
 left side to the hip and fastened up above the knee 
 The younger and prettier, who was evidently a jug- 
 gler, as she rested her feet on a box containing short 
 swords, balls, and small bows and arrows, wore on 
 her head a red hood to confine her dark curls, and 
 moreover was wrapped in a faded green mantle, which 
 she drew closely around her. Whenever, during the 
 conversation, she moved her hands this loose upper 
 dress parted, showing that she had a totally different 
 under-garment and a pair of short, parti-colored 
 breeches, which surrounded her loins like a wide belt. 
 
 The young men paid no attention to the girls. 
 Their talk turned upon the best way of getting hold of 
 a father's money during his life. Opinions seemed to 
 vary greatly. The more experienced agreed in hold- 
 ing aloof from the matter themselves and having their 
 fathers deceived by a cunning slave, while those less 
 skilled preferred to beg the money from their mothers, 
 on the threat of gomg to sea or enlisting in the light- 
 armed troops. 
 
 " The old theme again !" said I.ycon smiling, after 
 having greeted and shaken hands with all present 
 except Aristeides, who was busily cleansing his hands 
 after the meal in the dough prepared for the purpose. 
 
 " Lycon speaks the truth," cried a pale-faced young 
 man with flabby features, afterwards known as the 
 architect Deinocrates " We must talk about some- 
 thing else. This subject doesn't suit himT 
 
 Lycon, who had neither father nor mother, under-
 
 234 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Stood the concealed sting, but kept silence in order not 
 to enter deeper into the matter. 
 
 The talk ceased for a moment; the god Hermes — 
 as the saying went in those days — passed through the 
 room. Then a quick step echoed over the flags of the 
 peristyle, and a tall young fellow with a light beard 
 suddenly stood among them. He seemed to have just 
 arrived from a journey, for dust lay thick amid the 
 folds of his brown mantle, and he Avore a broad- 
 brimmed felt hat. 
 
 " Phorion !" cried seven or eight voices in a breath, 
 " we greet you, welcome !" 
 
 The new-comer flung his cloak and hat to one of 
 the boys who came hurrying up, pressed Aristeides' 
 hand, and lay down in the vacant place by his side. 
 
 " Where are you from, Phorion ?" asked pallid 
 Deinocrates. 
 
 " From Thessaly." 
 
 Lycon, who was reclining alone upon a couch at 
 the nearest table, forgot his barley cake and raised his 
 head. 
 
 " From what city in Thessaly ?" 
 
 " Methone in the province of Magnesia, on the 
 Pagasaean Gulf." 
 
 Aristeides' eyes happened to rest on Lycon, who 
 had turned deadly pale and was pressing his hand 
 upon his breast. 
 
 " From which of the citizens did you receive hospi- 
 tality ?" continued Deinocrates. 
 
 " From Simonides, dealer in grain."
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 235 
 
 Lycon started so that he almost upset the Uttle 
 table in front of the couch. 
 
 " How strange !" exclaimed Deinocrates eagerly. 
 " Simonides was my father's host, too, and I have often 
 heard him praise his cheerful temper and great fond- 
 ness for the comic writers. He owns, if I remember 
 rightly, many of old Magnes, the Icarian's, comedies in 
 the manuscripts, as the author himself revised them, and 
 — especially in "the Harpers" knows the merriest 
 scenes by heart. . . . You perceive I am acquainted 
 with the man without having seen him." 
 
 " Alas ! he is no longer the same person !" said 
 Phorion gravely. " Grief and sickness have prema- 
 turely aged him. . . . All his misery was brought upon 
 him by a dishonest slave." 
 
 Again Aristeides looked at Lycon, but this time not 
 accidentally. 
 
 The perspiration stood in big drops on his brow, 
 his cheeks were flushed, and he passed his great hand 
 over his face as he was in the habit of doing when 
 deeply moved. 
 
 " Made miserable by a dishonest slave !" exclaimed 
 Deinocrates, " you must tell us about it." 
 
 " The story is soon told," replied Phorion. " But 
 come here, boy. Push the tables aside, brush the 
 bones and fruit-skins away, and bring wine, wine ! I 
 am dying of thirst." 
 
 When everything was arranged, the slave brought a 
 silver vessel and poured some wine into it from an 
 ancient silver cup, the show-piece in Opasion's house.
 
 236 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Phorion took the vessel. The flute-player rose, 
 put her instrument to her lips, and began a subdued, 
 solemn melody. 
 
 " Let this beaker," said the young man, " be offered 
 to the gods of my native city, with thanks for their 
 gracious protection on my journey !" 
 
 Then he poured out some of the contents of the 
 cup. 
 
 The notes of the flute sounded louder, but not so 
 loud as to drown the noise of the wine falling on the 
 smooth stones of the floor. Then the subdued melody 
 followed. Phorion drank a few sips from the beaker 
 and passed it to Aristeides, who also took a little, and 
 so it went the round of the party, always accompanied 
 by the music of the flute. 
 
 Lycon gazed with a strangely vacant glance at the 
 preparations for the drinking-bout, and it was evidently 
 a relief to him when Deinocrates asked the new-comer 
 to continue his story. 
 
 " About five years ago," resumed Phorion, " Simon- 
 ides bought a young slave called Zenon," 
 
 Hearing this name so suddenly, Lycon turned 
 ghastly pale and, half falling back on his couch, made 
 a groping movement with his hands, as though he had 
 suddenly been plunged into the blackest darkness. 
 
 Aristeides pitied him, and, to force him to control 
 himself, said : 
 
 " Are you ill, Lycon ?" 
 
 Lycon passed his huge hand over his face; the 
 muscles around his mouth quivered, and it was a mo-
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 237 
 
 ment ere he could mutter a few words which sounded 
 as if he had taken too large a mouthful. 
 
 " So," continued Phorion, " Simonides bought a 
 young slave named Zenon. He hadn't given much 
 for him, because Zenon had robbed his former master, 
 a physician in the neighboring city of Ormenium ; he 
 had been branded and fled to Poseidon's altar in 
 Methone. Nobody would buy him, but when he fell 
 weeping at Simonides' feet and promised to conquer 
 his evil propensities, the latter was touched and bought 
 him for less than a mina.* For more than a year his 
 conduct obtained his master's approval and won his 
 favor and confidence. One day Simonides was visited 
 by a man from Hypata, with whom he had business 
 relations. Zenon waited on the table and saw the 
 stranger pay Simonides nearly a talent, partly in ready 
 money and partly in drafts on well-known money- 
 lenders in Athens, and noticed that this property was 
 placed in a box where many bags of darics ** were 
 already kept. The next morning the chest where the 
 box had been placed was found broken open. The 
 box had gone, and with it Zenon. Simonides sent 
 mounted messengers to this city, but Zenon had al- 
 ready had the drafts cashed, the more easily because 
 his master's seal ring was in the chest. 
 
 " Simonides had the great robbery and an exact de- 
 scription of the thief's personal appearance proclaimed 
 in the market by the public heralds ; but all his efforts 
 
 * Mina = equal to about $20. 
 ** Persian gold coin, named for Darius, value a little over $5.
 
 238 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 were useless. Grief and worry over this great loss 
 broke down his health. He was attacked by paralysis, 
 his right side was benumbed, his mouth drawn awry, 
 and for a time he was almost speechless. The once 
 gay, jovial man is now a mere shadow of his former 
 self. Though he is too proud to complain, I think the 
 slaves take advantage of his condition and do what 
 they choose. There is not the least sign of the order 
 that formerly existed in the house. In the vestibule 
 lay fragments of broken wine-jars, fruit-skins, faded 
 garlands, and the handles of burnt torches. Yet not 
 even to his best friend, Polycles the wine-dealer, has 
 he mentioned their negHgence. The only complaint 
 that ever escaped the lips of the sick man, so deserted 
 by his servants, was the wish : ' If I only had a son ! 
 I could depend upon him.' " 
 
 " By Heracles !" cried one of the reckless young 
 fellows, " he'll find that wish hard to get — weak as he 
 is." 
 
 " And why not ?" replied Phorion gravely. " Of 
 what consequence here is the mere tie of blood ? 
 Nothing is needed except a son's affection. Yes," he 
 added warmly, " among those who have known Simon- 
 ides in his days of happiness, why should there not be 
 one person that would take pleasure in coming to the 
 sick man's help and making amends for the wrong 
 others have done him ?" 
 
 Opasion thrust his foxy face from behind one of the 
 pillars, and noticing that the conversation had almost 
 ceased, made a sign to the young girls.
 
 LYCGN WITH THE BIG HAND. 239 
 
 The flute-player began a lively tune ; the juggler 
 threw off her shabby upper-robe and took from the box 
 she used as a foot-stool nine short swords whose handles 
 ended in a sharp point. These swords she stuck firmly 
 into the cracks between the flag-stones, placing them 
 in two rows, all with their keen two-edged blades in 
 the air. Then she stepped between them and, after 
 straightening her short breeches a httle, walked on her 
 hands, to the music of the flute, between the weapons, 
 then rising turned somersaults over them so swiftly that 
 the eye could scarcely follow the movements of her 
 slender, pliant body. 
 
 This was the dangerous sword-dance, always greatly 
 admired. 
 
 The young men clapped their hands and shouted 
 their plaudits. 
 
 " What ought not a man to be able to accomplish," 
 exclaimed Deinocrates, " when a woman can learn to 
 leap so boldly between swords ?" 
 
 Aristeides had not watched this scene ; his eyes 
 were fixed on Lycon. The latter had risen. He was 
 a little paler than usual and stood gazing into vacancy 
 with a strange look, as if he saw something far, far 
 away. Something extraordinary seemed to be occupy- 
 ing his thoughts, and he repeatedly passed his huge 
 hand over his face. 
 
 Then, apparently by chance, he approached Pho- 
 rion. " I'm £oing to Thessaly in a few days," he said 
 in a tone which he endeavored to make as careless as 
 possible, " and shall probably visit Methone. If you
 
 240 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 wish, Phorion I will carry your regards to Simon- 
 ides." 
 
 " Do so, and if you can, be his guest for a short 
 time. Perhaps there is reason to report the servants' 
 conduct to the magistrates. His daughter Myrtale, 
 according to his own account, is a child of seventeen 
 who cannot rule slaves. But one thing you must know 
 in advance — the door-keeper turns all strangers away; 
 it is not easy to get into the house." 
 
 " I shall get in " said Lycon. 
 
 III. 
 
 A FEW days after Lycon might have been seen 
 with a large travelling-hat on his head riding along the 
 road between Halus and Iton in the province of Phthi- 
 otis in Thessaly. He had sold his house in Athens 
 and all his slaves except one, a slender boy named 
 Paegnion who, carrying a bundle suspended from a 
 stick over his shoulders, accompanied him. He himself 
 had a similar bundle fastened to his horse ; in his hand 
 he held a switch cut from the trunk of a vine and, 
 when his cloak blew aside, the handle of a short sword 
 appeared in his belt. Beside Paegnion walked a young 
 slave from Halus, who was to take the hired horse 
 back." 
 
 It was a pleasant summer morning when Lycon 
 rode down the stony road over a spur of Mt. Othrys.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 241 
 
 Before him on his left hand rose huge Hmestone 
 clitfs, their sides overgrown with poplar, plane, and 
 ash-trees, and. their summits covered with thorny tra- 
 gacanth bushes. Far below, one smiling valley lay 
 beside another and through them all the river Amphry- 
 sus wound in glittering curves. The morning mists 
 still rested on the wide landscape, revealing, ever and 
 anon, a glimpse of distant cities at the foot of the 
 mountains and undulating plains, with yellow grain- 
 fields and luxuriant vineyards, interspersed here and 
 there with clumps of fig-trees and groves of dwarf and 
 stone oaks. Far at the right the white marble temples 
 of a city glimmered against the dark-blue waters of a 
 bay in the Pagasaean gulf On the other side of the 
 valley rose lofty hills, and beyond them — at the far- 
 thest point of view — the two snow-capped peaks of 
 Pelion towered into the air. 
 
 Lycon let his gaze wander over the broad, sun- 
 steeped landscape, and inhaled with pleasure the pure 
 mountain air. Freedom had never seemed to him 
 more alluring. The nearer he approached Methone, 
 the more anxiously he asked himself whether he, who 
 for years had lived as a free citizen, must again sink 
 into a wretched, subservient bondman. He fancied he 
 already felt on his neck the pressure of the wooden 
 ring by which sweet-toothed slaves were prevented 
 from raising their hands to their lips ; he imagined he 
 had fetters on his limbs and the heavy block dragging 
 after him, and he shuddered at the thought of the 
 smoking iron and its hissing on the skin. 
 
 16
 
 242 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Who told him he would escape this punishment ? 
 Had he not stolen a second time ? 
 
 " By Zeus!" he muttered, " I'm afraid I have made 
 the dog's throw." * 
 
 But, remembering how he had altered during the 
 past few years, he suddenly exclaimed : " No, I will 
 not return as Zenon, but as Lycon." 
 
 He had incautiously uttered the last words aloud 
 and, starting, looked around him. The strange slave 
 had paid no heed; but it was important for him to 
 know whether Paegnion had heard them. 
 
 He beckoned to the boy, bent down from his horse, 
 and took him by the ear. 
 
 " Did you hear what I said ?" he asked curtly. 
 " Tell the truth." 
 
 " I believe so," stammered Paegnion, somewhat 
 bewildered by this sudden attack. 
 
 " Repeat my words." 
 
 " I will not return as Zenon, but as Lycon." 
 
 Lycon drew his short sword and placed its point 
 against Paegnion's bare breast. The lad uttered a 
 loud shriek. 
 
 ' Did you ever cut yourself with a knife ?" asked 
 Lycon. " Then think what you will feel if I thrust 
 now. Well then! If you repeat one word of what I 
 said, I will drive this sword into you, if it were at the 
 altar of the gods. So guard your mouth." 
 
 Without listening to Paegnion's assurances, he gave 
 
 * The worst throw in a game of dice.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 243 
 
 the horse a Hght blow with his whip and continued his 
 way down to the valley. 
 
 The next day Lycon was riding up the Street of the 
 Bakers in Methone, at whose en^ was seen the sea with 
 the ships where he had learned the nautical expressions 
 that had proved so useful to him with the district in- 
 spector at Athens. Though no anxiety was apparent 
 in his bearing, his heart beat faster than usual. There 
 was no change in the little city ; it seemed as though 
 he had never been away, he recognized every house, 
 every wall, every stone. He was obliged to wait a 
 moment at the laurel-tree and statue of Hermes, out- 
 side of Simonides' house, ere he could control his 
 voice sufficiently to say to Paegnion : " Knock !" 
 
 Paegnion seized the copper ring on the door and 
 rapped loudly. The door-keeper was not at his post. 
 It was a long time before he came and drew the bolt, 
 and he opened the door no wider than was necessary 
 to thrust out his hand. Lycon recognized in him an 
 old slave named Satyrus, who had a sullen face and 
 lazy bearing. 
 
 At sight of the youth in travelling dress, he said 
 harshly : " What do you want ? My master is sick 
 and receives no one." With these words he slammed 
 the door so that the whole house shook. Lycon 
 signed to Paegnion, who knocked again. " My good 
 fellow," he called, " announce me to your master. 'J'ell 
 him I am Lycon the Athenian, son of Megacles, and 
 that I bring a greeting and message from'Phorion, who 
 was his guest a short time ago. The door-keeper went
 
 244 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 grumbling away. At last he returned, opened the door, 
 and said in a milder tone : 
 
 " Come in, he'll speak to you." 
 
 Sending away the boy with the hired horse, Lycon 
 entered the dwelling. Anxious as he felt, he noticed 
 that the appearance of the vestibule agreed exactly 
 with Phorion's description. There was dirt and dis- 
 order in every corner. 
 
 While crossing the peristyle, Lycon addressed a few 
 words to Paegnion. At the sound of his voice a young 
 girl who was just gliding into the women's apartment, 
 stopped, turned her head, and fixed upon him a look 
 of wonder and surprise, but ere he had time to notice 
 her she had vanished through the door. He had only 
 caught a glimpse of a blue robe and a pair of question- 
 ing dark eyes. Was it Myrtale, whom he had last seen 
 as a child, and with whom he had often played in the 
 garden and at Simonides' country-seat ? 
 
 Absorbed in these thoughts, Lycon had walked so 
 rapidly tOAvards the room usually occupied by the 
 master of the house that old Satyrus, the door-keeper, 
 found it hard to keep up with him. 
 
 "Queer!" he muttered, " though you are a stranger, 
 one would suppose you knew the house." 
 
 Lycon saw that he had been on the point of be- 
 traying himself, but he was quick-witted. 
 
 " Of course I know the house, my good fellow," he 
 replied smiling — from my friend Phorion's descrip- 
 tion."
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 245 
 
 IV. 
 
 SiMONiDES was just breakfasting. On seeing how 
 weak and feeble he had become, Lycon could scarcely 
 control his emotion, and it cut him to the heart when 
 he saw the crooked mouth — the mark paralysis had 
 stamped upon him for life. 
 
 "Thief!" bethought; "it is your work !" and he 
 passed his big hand over his face to hide his tears. 
 He longed to throw himself at his master's feet and 
 clasp his knees. 
 
 Simonides did not rise when Lycon entered, but 
 gave him his hand and greeted him kindly. 
 
 "Welcome!" he said. "You are Phorion's friend, 
 I hear, and bring a greeting and message from him. 
 How is his blind father ? Does Praxagoras, the phy- 
 sician from Cos, think he will succeed in restoring his 
 lost sight ?" 
 
 Lycon could not answer; he knew nothing about 
 Phorion's father. 
 
 " How is his wife, who was so ill after the birth of 
 her last child ?" 
 
 Lycon knew nothing of Phorion's wife either. He 
 felt extremely uncomfortable, tried to turn the conver- 
 sation into another channel and, by way of explana- 
 tion, added carelessly : 
 
 " I know Phorion only in the market, the arcades, 
 and other places where men daily meet in Athens. 
 He has never spoken of his family."
 
 246 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Simonides raised his head and looked intently at 
 Lycon. 
 
 " Ah I" he exclaimed, apparently with some little 
 disappointment. " I thought that you and Phorion 
 were intimate friends. There is an old acquaintance- 
 ship between us, dating from the time Avhen his father 
 and I were both young." 
 
 The conversation now took a different turn, as 
 Simonides asked for news from Athens. This was a 
 subject on which Lycon could talk, and the more 
 freely because relieved from his worst fear. Simonides 
 evidently had not recognized him. His long hair and 
 thick beard, especially his heavy eyebrows, which he 
 had had clipped very frequently to make them large 
 and bushy, had entirely changed his appearance. 
 
 Simonides had offered his guest some refreshments 
 after his journey. In the long time that elapsed before 
 they were brought Lycon saw a confirmation of the 
 bad condition of household affairs. He also noticed 
 that two goblets stood on the little table; of course 
 Simonides had had a companion at his meal, doubtless 
 his daughter, Myrtale, who, according to the universal 
 Hellenic custom, had left the room when the door- 
 keeper announced a stranger. She was probably the 
 young girl of whom he had caught a glimpse in the 
 peristyle. 
 
 After the meal Simonides offered to let a slave 
 called Conops show Lycon around the city. He 
 called, but no one came. He rapped repeatedly on 
 the floor with his cane : but no one seemed to hear —
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 247 
 
 the veins on Lycon's forehead swelled and his heavy- 
 eyebrows met in a frown. 
 
 " Wretches !" he muttered. 
 
 '' Be not angry, Simonides," he added warmly, 
 clasping his hand in both his own, " be not angry if, 
 though a stranger, I speak freely of things which do 
 not concern me. Let me, I beg you, talk in your 
 name to these sluggards. Imagine that I am your son 
 and have returned from a long journey. Come ! Lean 
 on my arm, let us go about the house and see what the 
 slaves are doing." 
 
 Simonides fixed a puzzled glance upon Lycon. 
 
 "Stranger," he said, "you speak singular words. 
 You have not been half so long under my roof as the 
 water-clock needs to run out, yet you seem to read the 
 wishes of my soul. Who are you, young man ? Your 
 voice is strangely familiar, yet no. . . . you speak the 
 Attic dialect so purely that Phorion, who was bom in 
 the city, has no better accent." 
 
 With these words he rose slowly, by the help of his 
 cane, and took Lycon's arm. 
 
 " Another person," he added, " might perhaps be 
 angry with you or feel offended. I am neither. It is 
 seldom, very seldom, that a careless youth has so 
 much affection for a sick and feeble man. Come, my 
 son — let me call you so — try whether you can help 
 me to restore the discipline of the house, but do not 
 suppose that the victory will be an easy one. Thistles 
 which have grown all the year are not uprooted by the 
 first jerk. If you could stay with me for a time — yet
 
 248 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 I will not urge you," he added smiling faintly, " that 
 vou may not say you are drubbed into accepting the 
 invitation. A resident of Athens will scarcely waste 
 time on our little city." 
 
 " Do you think so ?" said Lycon, smiling. " I will 
 gladly stay, if you believe that I can serve you." 
 
 Simonides had difficulty in dragging himself on- 
 ward. Fortunately the distance was not great; in 
 ancient times the houses were small, supplied with nu- 
 merous corners, it is true, but covering little space. 
 Supported by Lycon's arm, Simonides walked through 
 the short colonnade outside of the men's rooms ; in the 
 little peristyle of the women's apartment, where he was 
 forced to stop a moment to rest, no human being ap- 
 peared and the small chambers occupied by the slaves, 
 — half a score of dungeon-like cells, — all stood empty. 
 The same state of affairs existed in the women's work- 
 room. In the door leading to the garden sat, or rather 
 lay, one of the youngest slaves of the household, a 
 light-haired boy seven or eight years old. He had 
 leaned his head against the door-post and, overcome 
 by the noonday heat, had fallen asleep. 
 
 "Look!" whispered Lycon, pointing to the boy, 
 " fortune favors us. The sentinel is slumbering at his 
 post. We shall come upon them unawares." 
 
 Loud, merry talk reached them from the garden. 
 
 " Conops has slept on the bench long enough," 
 said a harsh voice, not without a shade of envy. 
 
 " How he snores !" added another. 
 
 " Only a swine-herd can snore like that."
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 249 
 
 " Pour some wine into his mouth." 
 
 "Tickle him on the nose with a straw." 
 
 *' Put a frog on his neck." 
 
 The last proposal was greeted with shrill laughter. 
 
 Lycon pushed the sleeping boy away with his foot 
 and, in the midst of the slaves' noisy mirth, the master 
 of the house and his guest suddenly stood among them. 
 
 A strange spectacle was presented to their eyes. 
 On a roughly-made couch, which had been carried into 
 the shade, lay the largest and strongest of the slaves, 
 the swine-herd Conops, almost naked, snoring loudly 
 with his mouth wide open. Close around him stood 
 those who had proposed to wake him, and behind this 
 group some half nude boys, lying flat on the ground, 
 were playing dice, while a couple of older slaves sitting 
 at a table were quietl}' drinking a tankard of wine 
 which they had forgotten to mix with water. Still 
 farther away some young men were romping on a 
 bench beneath some blossoming Agnus-castus trees 
 with two slave-girls who, at the sight of the new- 
 comers, started up with a loud shriek and, covering 
 their faces with their hands, fled around the nearest 
 corner of the house. 
 
 Lycon did not speak a word to the slaves, but as 
 he turned slowly with Simonides to go back to the 
 dwelling by the same path, he said as though continu- 
 ing an interrupted conversation : 
 
 " My advice is this : Sell them all to the mines in 
 Laurium — they will be cured of laziness there — and 
 buy new ones, even if you have to ])ay more for them."
 
 250 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 He had spoken loud enough for the nearest slaves 
 to hear every word. 
 
 Work in the mines of Laurium was considered the 
 hardest slave-labor in Hellas. What terror and con- 
 sternation therefore seized upon the pampered, idle 
 slaves in Simonides' house at the prospect so suddenly 
 opened before them. 
 
 A low, but eager murmur instantly arose behind 
 the retreating figures. Many were talking at the same 
 time and in an angry tone. 
 
 "Do you hear?" said Lycon to Simonides, "the 
 medicine is beginning to work." 
 
 The old man pressed his hand. 
 
 V. 
 
 Lycon let himself be shown around the city by the 
 boy he had found sleeping with his head against the 
 door-post, and invented errands to many of the citizens 
 but none of them recognized him. 
 
 Meantime his young slave, Paegnion, was saunter- 
 ing idly about the house. He was tired, so he wel- 
 comed the event when some one unexpectedly spoke 
 to him in the peristyle of the women's apartment. 
 
 " What is your name, my lad ?" asked a gay, 
 musical voice from one of the little openings in the 
 wall facing the peristyle 
 
 Paegnion looked up. All he saw inside the small 
 opening was a delicate white hand, which had drawn
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 25 1 
 
 aside the Coan curtain, some shining braids of brown 
 hair, a gold fillet, and a pair of mischievous black eyes, 
 whose sparkle vied with the fillet. 
 
 " What is your name, my lad ?" the voice repeated. 
 
 " Paegnion." 
 
 " A pretty name ! Are many boys in Athens called 
 Paegnion as well as you ?" 
 
 " Some, but not many." 
 
 " Has your master a pretty name too ?" 
 
 " He is called Lycon." 
 
 " Has he no other name ?" 
 
 Paegnion was silent. 
 
 " Well then !" said the gay voice in a strangely con- 
 temptuous tone, and the hand moved as though to 
 close the curtain. 
 
 Paegnion feared the conversation was over. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" he hastened to ask. 
 
 " I thought Attic youths were more clever than 
 others — so clever that their masters could never con- 
 ceal anything from them. Now I see that the Athe- 
 nian lads are no brighter than our own." 
 
 Paegnion felt a little nettled. 
 
 " I cou/d answer you, if I chose" he muttered 
 roughly. 
 
 " And why don't you choose, Paegnion ?" 
 
 " Because I don't want to be thrust through the 
 breast with a long knife." 
 
 " Empty threats ! And you care for them ? A 
 boy like you isn't easily killed. . . . No, say rather 
 that you know nothing."
 
 252 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 And again the delicate hand moved as if to drop 
 the curtain. 
 
 " But I do know something," Paegnion hastened to 
 reply. " He has, as you say, another name." 
 
 "Who told you so?" 
 
 " He himself." 
 
 " What did he say ?" 
 
 " That I won't tell." 
 
 " Are you so timid, Paegnion ? I thought the 
 Attic boys were braver. Besides, what do you risk by 
 telling me, a woman ? I shall never see your master, 
 never have a chance to speak to him — what do you 
 fear ?" 
 
 Paegnion reflected a moment. 
 
 "No!" he cried resolutely, " I dare not ! He might 
 find out." 
 
 " That's a pity ! I thought you would earn some 
 money. Look !" the young girl continued, holding 
 out a number of small flat silver coins in a box and 
 showing them to Paegnion, "here are twelve triobols." 
 
 The lad gazed covetously at the glittering coins. 
 
 " Twelve triobols," he repeated with a crafty smile, 
 "and I Tum. fifteen years old." 
 
 " You shall, have three more. But make haste, 
 somebody might come. What did vour master say ?" 
 
 Paegnion looked around him. 
 
 " On the way here," he whispered, advancing close 
 to the wall, " my master rode for a time absorbed in 
 thought ; then he suddenly exclaimed : ' No, I will 
 not return as Zenon, but as Lycon.' "
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 253 
 
 " I knew it !" cried the girl and, forgetting the 
 money, she clapped her hands so that the obols fell on 
 the ground and rolled about in every direction. 
 
 Paegnion was not slow in picking up his treasure. 
 
 " The three triobols," he then said, " the three tri- 
 obols you promised me." 
 
 The girl disappeared from the opening. A mo- 
 ment after a fold of the curtain was raised and, if 
 Paegnion had had eyes for it, he might have seen a 
 beautiful white arm bared to the shoulder, but the lad 
 was more intent upon obols than arms. 
 
 At this moment the back door of the garden 
 creaked on its rusty hinges, and Paegnion ran with all 
 his might to the little guest-room at the corner of the 
 house, which had been assigned to him and his master. 
 
 When Lycon — for it was he — was crossing the 
 small courtyard on the way to the guest-room he saw 
 that the household slaves, half a score in all, had as- 
 sembled there. Some were carrying hay from a large 
 cart into a bam, others were pouring water over the 
 rude wheels, consisting of round wooden disks, to 
 cleanse them from lumps of clay, and others were 
 standing idle in the shade. But, whether busy or not, 
 there was an air of malevolence about them and not 
 one uttered a word. The prospect of forced labor in 
 the Laurium mines rested like a dark cloud on every 
 face. 
 
 The big swine-herd, Conops, held in his hand a 
 bunch of dry leaves with which he was wiping the 
 sweat from the heaving flanks of a mule.
 
 254 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Lycon passed quietly on to the guest-room, where 
 he called to Conops in a curt, authoritative tone : 
 
 " Open the door. You see I am carrying some- 
 thing under my cloak." 
 
 The huge fellow did not stir. 
 
 Lycon beckoned to the little boy and gave him his 
 bundle. 
 
 " Don't you know," he then said to Conops, that 
 I am your master's guest, and that you should obey a 
 guest as you would your master himself?" 
 
 " Perhaps that is the custom in Athens," replied 
 Conops impudently, looking at the others. " In Me- 
 thone slaves do what they choose." 
 
 Lycon's great hand suddenly fell upon Conop's 
 cheek. So violent was the blow that the swine-herd 
 reeled several paces aside, struck his head against the 
 stable-wall, and scratched one of his ears. Dizzy and 
 confused as he was, he was servile enough to recognize 
 in the hand that struck such a blow a superior power, 
 Avhich it would not do to defy. 
 
 "What a cuff!" he muttered, wiping away the 
 blood which streamed from his ear upon his brown 
 shoulder then, glancing at the others again, he added 
 with evident admiration of the blow : " I never had 
 such a knock before." 
 
 "The door!" said Lycon curtly. 
 
 Conops opened it without a word. 
 
 Lycon now turned to the slaves and informed them 
 that the order of the household must and should be 
 restored. No one would be overburdened with work;
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 255 
 
 but, if each did his share, there would seem to be less to 
 be done. Then he represented to the slaves who had 
 been born in Simonides' house how shamefull)' they 
 had behaved in consulting only their own convenience, 
 while their master was ill and helpless, needing more 
 than anything else careful attendance. 
 
 He soon succeeded in touching the hearts of the 
 slaves and, when he perceived it, he added that Si- 
 monides would forgive and forget everything if within 
 three days they would bring him the household instru- 
 ments of punishment which they had thrown away and 
 broken. If one of the older slaves fulfilled this de- 
 mand, Simonides would make him overseer of the 
 others, but should they persist in their negligence their 
 master, with an Attic slave-dealer's assistance, would 
 sell them to the mines. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Early the next morning, while the dew was still 
 sparkling on the leaves and in the grass, Simonides' 
 daughter, Myrtale, a girl of seventeen, came out of the 
 women's apartment into the garden. She had thrown 
 over her head a red scarf with small white stars, from 
 beneath which fell her thick dark-brown locks. Her 
 figure, though not tall, was well developed, and its 
 delicately-rounded outlines were fully displayed by the
 
 256 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 red robe she wore. The httle Methonian bore no re 
 semblance to the stately marble caryatides which as 
 images of the Attic virgins adorned the vestibule of the 
 Erechtheum ; but her whole figure was so instinct with 
 life and youth that no eye could help lingering on it 
 with pleasure. Even the swine-herd, Conops, turned 
 his clumsy head to watch her as she passed and 
 among the slaves, who half neglected and half admired 
 her, she was never called anything but he pais, " the 
 child." 
 
 Myrtale, however, was a child who had a will of 
 her own and a very determined one. Having early 
 lost her mother, she had had no female companionship 
 except her nurse, who indulged her in everything. She 
 had been educated in a much freer manner than was 
 usually the case with Hellenic maidens. She took her 
 meals with her father, even when his friend Polycles, 
 the wdne-dealer, visited him. When Polycles noticed 
 that the young girl did not lack intelligence he often 
 asked her opinion, and this pleased Simonides, who 
 spoiled his only child and treated her more like a son 
 and heir than like a daughter. 
 
 Nay, when Simonides, during his days of health, 
 read aloud the plays of Magnes, the Icarian, Myrtale, 
 at that time a girl of thirteen or fourteen, was usually 
 present and stimulated by the unbridled laughter of 
 the two friends, understood much that had been previ- 
 ously incomprehensible, and caught many an allusion 
 which the two men did not suspect that she could 
 comprehend. In this way Myrtale had learned to
 
 ,LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 25/ 
 
 know more of the world and life than other young girls 
 who spent their days in a virgin chamber.* 
 
 The slaves' negligence, the only thing that could 
 have shadowed her youth, disturbed her far less than it 
 troubled her father, since she always had her faithful 
 nurse with her and — thanks to the freedom granted 
 her — enjoyed her life like a careless child, to whom 
 the present moment is everything. 
 
 When Myrtale came out into the garden early 
 that morning, she stood still for a time irresolute but, 
 woman-like, not idle. Seeing how dark and wet the 
 ground was and what big drops glittered in the grass, 
 she instantly set to work to fasten up her dress that it 
 might not be soiled by dampness. Then she tripped 
 on through maples, ivy, and vines twined around poles 
 which rested on stout posts, towards the most secluded 
 part of the garden. When she reached the bee-hives 
 and heard the buzzing of the insects, she paused a mo- 
 ment, laughed softly, and said to herself with a mis- 
 chievous little smile : 
 
 " Now I know what to do — he shall be forced to 
 confess everything." Seeing some superb white lilies, 
 she left her silver-embroidered sandals in the garden- 
 path and skipped on her little bare feet into the wet 
 grass. While gathering the flowers she felt as though 
 ants were crawling on her and, raising her dress a little, 
 looked over her shoulder at her ankles, carefully exam- 
 ining each. The pretty girl thought herself alone and 
 
 " Part of the women's apartment. 
 17
 
 258 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 unobserved, and there was something so bewitching in 
 her whole appearance that it would have been a pity 
 not to have had a witness. 
 
 But there was a witness. 
 
 Lycon, who had been unable to sleep all night, be- 
 cause each passing day brought the decision of his fate 
 nearer, had gone out into the garden early and seated 
 himself on a bench in the nearest thicket. From his 
 green ambush not one of Myrtale's movements escaped 
 his notice. Had he been familiar with Homer, he 
 would have thought that she resembled Danae, Acris- 
 ius' daughter, and deserved the name of Calhsphyrus, 
 the maid with the beautiful calves. But Lycon knew 
 nothing of Homer, so he contented himself with mut- 
 tering : 
 
 " Is that Myrtale ? How pretty she has grown." 
 
 Yet he did not go to meet her. Of course she 
 would have been frightened by the sight of a strange 
 man. And what should he talk about ? He had 
 nothing to say to her. 
 
 While Myrtale was putting on her sih'er-wrouglit 
 sandals, a black and white goat, with trailing tether, 
 came running towards her. She glanced at the wet, 
 rough-coated animal, then at her light dress and, draw- 
 ing back, clapped her hands violently to frighten the 
 creature away. But the goat did not understand. It 
 merely stopped in its run and approached slowly, hold- 
 ing its head very high, evidently supposing the move- 
 ment of her hands a challenge to play. With the mis- 
 chievousness natural to this animal it suddenly made a
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 259 
 
 couple of short, frolicsome leaps, lowered its head and 
 sharp horns, and darted towards the young girl. 
 
 Without hesitation Myrtale pulled up the nearest 
 flower-stake and defended herself against the goat. 
 But the animal, now it was once in fighting mood, 
 constantly renewed the attack and the young girl 
 found it more and more difficult to keep the creature at 
 bay. She was therefore more pleased than alarmed 
 when the bushes rustled and Lycon sprang out and 
 seized the goat's tether. 
 
 Myrtale silently put back the flower-stake, and 
 busied herself in tying up the plant. 
 
 For some time neither spoke. 
 
 " Are you Myrtale, Simonides' daughter ?" asked 
 Lycon, as he watched the pretty Methonian with a 
 pleasure he had never felt before. 
 
 Myrtale nodded assent. 
 
 " Are you Lycon, the Athenian, my father's guest ?" 
 •she inquired, without raising her eyes to the stranger's 
 face. 
 
 Lycon had scarcely time to reply, for the goat now 
 renewed its attack upon him. He laughed : 
 
 " Come, my kid. You shall learn that I am not 
 called Lycon with the big hand for nothing." 
 
 Seizing one of the goat's horns with one hand, and 
 its little tail with the other, he lifted the mischievous 
 animal from the ground so that its four legs hung 
 loosely down. \Mien he set it on the earth again the 
 •creature was thoroughly cowed. Bleating feebly, it
 
 26o PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 unresistingly allowed itself to be dragged back to the 
 grass-plot from which it had escaped. 
 
 At the beehives Myrtale managed to have Lycon 
 pass tolerably near them. While the insects were 
 buzzing most thickly around him, she suddenly ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " A bee, a bee !" and laying her hand on Lycon's 
 neck added : " Don't you feel any pain ? It must 
 have stung you. I saw it creep out from under your 
 robe." 
 
 Lycon denied feeling any hurt. 
 
 "Let me see your shoulder!" continued Myrtale. 
 "An old woman from Hypata taught me two magic 
 words with which the stings of wasps and bees can be 
 instantly cured." 
 
 " It is unnecessary," replied Lycon curtly. 
 
 " Do as I beg you," urged Myrtale. 
 
 " Girl !" cried Lycon impatiently, " you ask foolish 
 things. ... I will not do it." 
 
 Myrtale's eyes flashed, the color in her cheeks 
 deepened, and she suddenly stopped. 
 
 " Zenon," she said, raising her voice, " I, the 
 daughter of your master Simonides, command you to 
 do it." 
 
 If the earth had opened at Lycon's feet he could 
 not have been more surprised and horrified than by 
 these words. 
 
 "Merciful Gods!" he exclaimed, turning pale and 
 clasping his hands, " how do you know ? — Who has 
 told you ?"
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 261 
 
 " Silence !" said Myrtale sternly. " Neither my 
 father nor the slaves recognized you, but 1 knew you 
 at the first sound of your voice, though you now speak 
 the Attic dialect. You are Zenon, do not deny it. 
 Shall I call Conops and the others, and have your 
 robe torn off? There is a kappa on your shoulder; I 
 know it." 
 
 " Oh, miserable man that I am !" exclaimed Lycon, 
 wringing his hands, while his eyes filled with tears. 
 '' I have seen you to my destruction." And falling at 
 Myrtale's feet, he clasped her knees, adding : " How 
 shall I answer ? What am I to say ?" 
 
 "The truth." 
 
 " Ah, I will conceal nothing, but tell you a secret 
 which is the key of my soul. Know that I am not, as 
 you suppose, slave-born. My parents were free and 
 lived in Carystus at Euboea. My father was overseer 
 of the slaves in the marble quarries. During my child- 
 hood he Hved comfortably ; but afterwards he began to 
 drink, became involved in debt, and with his wife and 
 child was sold into slavery. Yet, with my free birth, I 
 had obtained a different temper from that of a slave. 
 The scourge humbled far more than it hurt me, and 1 
 could not laugh with the rest when the pain was over. 
 Day and night I plotted to gain my freedom and, as I 
 could not purchase it, I resolved to steal it. To be 
 free I could have robbed the gods themselves. The 
 first time I failed — I was caught and branded. The 
 next I was more successful. . . . There — now you 
 know my crime."
 
 262 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 And he then told her about his happy Hfe in 
 Athens, his deep repentance at Phorion's description of 
 Simonides' illness, and his determination to restore the 
 discipline of the household in order to obtain forgive- 
 ness. 
 
 Myrtale did not lose a single word, but while 
 Lycon was kneeling before her she noticed that his 
 tearful eyes were very handsome, and that a delicate 
 odor of ointment rose from his hair. The power of 
 trifles has always been great, especially with women. 
 This perfume made a strange impression upon her. 
 For a moment she forgot that Lycon was a slave, and 
 compared him in her mind with the son of their neigh- 
 bor the baker, who after having spent ten days in 
 Athens went as foppishly clad and moved as stiffly as 
 the Athenian dandies. She looked at Lycon's broad 
 shoulders and sinewy arms — and whatever the cause, 
 she felt more kindly disposed. 
 
 " You are a strange person," she said, gazing into 
 Lycon's eyes. " Who and what are you ? . . . . Half 
 Athenian and half Methonian, half citizen and half 
 slave, half Lycon and half Zenon. I will do as my 
 father once did : I will trust you, though perhaps I am 
 unwise." 
 
 With these words she was hurrying towards the 
 house, but Lycon seized a fold of her robe. 
 
 " Myrtale," he said, " believe me, a good emotion 
 induced me to return. Consider how free from care 
 my life was in Athens, and what I have risked. Do 
 not make me miserable — do not prematurely reveal
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 263 
 
 my secret, so that your father will refuse me his for- 
 giveness ! He who has once been free is of no value 
 as a slave." 
 
 Myrtale noticed the shudder that ran through his 
 limbs, and felt strangely moved. She read in Lycon's 
 eyes the anguish he was suffering and to console him 
 said : 
 
 " Have no fear ! Myrtale does not hate Lycon. . . . 
 I have never forgotten how kind you were to me when 
 I was a child. I still have the little cart you made for 
 me." 
 
 " And I," said Lycon, deeply moved as he seized 
 her arm and kissed it, " I did not suppose that little 
 Myrtale would become such a girl — so good and so 
 beautiful !" 
 
 Myrtale smiled. 
 
 " Now Lycon is forgetting Zenon I" she replied, 
 and raising her light dress, ran off towards the house. 
 
 But Lycon was by no means cheerful. On the 
 contrary he was very anxious at knowing his secret 
 was in a woman's keeping. " The sooner I speak to 
 Simonides the better," he thought. 
 
 VIL 
 
 Two days after, just as Lycon had breakfasted with 
 the master of the house, Carion, the old slave, entered. 
 Lycon was going to rise and leave the room, but Si-
 
 264 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 monides took him by the arm and made him keep his 
 place on the edge of the couch. 
 
 " Master," said old Carion, " I have come to ask 
 for myself and the rest of the slaves that you will for- 
 give and forget. If you only will not sell us to the 
 mines, we will obey you in everything and, as a token 
 of our submission, we bring you the household imple- 
 ments of punishment, all ot them, and in good 
 condition. 
 
 Simonides could scarcely believe his ears, and 
 turned to his guest in speechless surprise. Lycon 
 laughed in his sleeve. 
 
 At a sign from Carion, two young slaves entered 
 and laid at their master's feet large and small whips, 
 iron collars, fetters, stocks, branding irons, neck-wheels, 
 and the so-called " tree," which served as a pillory and 
 at the same time inflicted the torture of sitting in a 
 doubled up position. Bringing in all these articles 
 consumed time enough to enable Simonides to regain 
 his composure. 
 
 Without showing his satisfaction in the presence of 
 the slaves, he replied that he would grant their petition 
 and forgive what had happened. No one should suffer 
 oppression, but if any one did wrong he would be pun- 
 ished. Carion, the first who had given an example of 
 obedience, would be made overseer of the others, and 
 in token that he himself was ready to forget what had 
 happened, each of them would be received that even- 
 ing as if he were entering his master's house for the 
 first time. He should be led to the hearth by the
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 265 
 
 overseer and there receive figs, dried grapes, nuts, and 
 small pastry cakes, in token that there was an abun- 
 dance in the house and he would lack nothing. 
 
 Simonides then ordered the slaves to carry the in- 
 struments of punishment to the room intended for 
 them. 
 
 Scarcely was he alone with Lycon ere, with over- 
 flowing affection, he pressed him to his brea.st. 
 
 " By all the gods of friendship !" he exclaimed, 
 *' tell me by what magic you have accomplished this ?" 
 
 Lycon now mentioned the chastisement he had 
 given Conops, and the demand he had made of the 
 slaves in their master's name under the penalty of labor 
 in the mines. 
 
 Simonides grasped Lycon's hand and pressed it in 
 both his own. 
 
 " Though a stranger," he said, " you have fulfilled 
 my dearest wish and restored order to my household. 
 May the gods bless you for it ! To my dying day I 
 shall remember this time as a happy hour. But tell 
 me, my son, is there nothing you desire, nothing I can 
 do for you ?" 
 
 Lycon averted his face. Now, in this decisive mo- 
 ment, which he had anticipated during so many days 
 and nights, he could not force himself to utter a single 
 word. 
 
 " My son," persisted Simonides, " there is some- 
 thing that weighs up<jn your heart. Do not deny it. 
 By Zeus, I want to se*e only happy faces to-day. So, 
 tell me what it is."
 
 266 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Lycon sprang from the couch and threw himself at 
 Simonides' feet. 
 
 " Pardon, Master !" he faltered, " I am not worthy 
 to be your guest." 
 
 " What fire-brand are you casting into my bosom," 
 cried Simonides, half-raising himself on the couch as, 
 seized by a dark foreboding, he gazed with dilated eyes 
 at the kneeling figure. 
 
 Lycon turned deadly pale. Grasping a fold of Si- 
 monides' robe, he said in a voice almost choked with, 
 emotion : 
 
 " Master. . . . don't you know me ? . . . . I am 
 your slave Zenon." 
 
 " Wonder-working Gods !" exclaimed Simonides 
 doubtfully, " what am I compelled to hear !" 
 
 " Mercy, Master, mercy !" 
 
 Simonides, uttering a fierce cry, kicked Lycon 
 away with his foot. 
 
 " Thief," he shouted, trembling with rage, " miser- 
 able thief, you have stolen my money and my health, 
 what do you seek in my house ? Have you come here 
 to rob me a second time ? . . . . For two years I have 
 not suffered your name to be spoken in my hearing. . . . 
 Begone, begone from my sight, you source of my 
 misery — you destroyer of the happiness of my life!" 
 
 And as Lycon still lingered, Simonides pointed to 
 the door of the peristyle, shouting imperatively : " Go, 
 go, I command you I" 
 
 Lycon left the room with drooping head, without 
 casting a glance behind. He no longer had a hope.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 267 
 
 At the same moment the curtain at the door of a 
 side-chamber stirred sHghtly, and soon after Myrtale 
 entered and silently seated herself on the edge of the 
 couch at her father's feet. She was very pale, and 
 through the folds of her thin dress the rapid rising and 
 falling of her bosom showed that she was struggling 
 for breath. Simonides scarcely seemed to notice her 
 and, without moving or looking up, she waited patiently 
 for him to speak. 
 
 At last he broke the silence. 
 
 " Do you know who Lycon is ?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, I know." 
 
 " And you did not tell me ?" 
 
 " It was his business to confess, not mine." 
 
 " What do you advise, Myrtale ?" 
 
 "To wait until to-morrow." 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " To let Lycon sentence himself" , 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " One of two things will happen — either he will 
 run away during the night and then his solicitude for 
 himself will be greater than his repentance, or he will 
 stay, and then his repentance will be deep enough to 
 make him prefer to suffer everything rather than not 
 obtain your forgiveness." 
 
 Simonides drew Myrtale towards him and stroked 
 her pretty brown hair. 
 
 " Polycles is right," he said, " your name ought to 
 have been Metis * and not Myrtale. . , . But will not 
 
 * r'rudence, ingenuity.
 
 2 68 PICTURES OF HRI.LAS. 
 
 Lycon take advantage of the night to steal from me 
 again ?" 
 
 Myrtale made no reply, but the lines around her 
 mouth expressed so much wrath and scorn that Simon- 
 ides in surprise looked at her more closely. A glitter- 
 ing streak ran from her eyes down over her cheeks. 
 
 " So you trust him ?" he asked. 
 
 " I do trust him," replied Myrtale so earnestly that 
 her father remained silent a long time. 
 
 " Was I too severe ?" he said at last. 
 
 Myrtale did not answer. 
 
 " Remember, child, that the service he has ren- 
 dered to me is nothing in comparison to the crime he 
 committed. If his own sin had not made me ill, I 
 should never have needed his assistance." 
 
 The next morning, while Lycon was uncertain 
 whether he ought to go to Simonides or wait for the 
 latter's orders, a boy entered and said : 
 
 " Simonides asks Lycon to come to him." 
 
 This message showed he was not to be treated as a 
 slave. 
 
 " I will come," Lycon hastily replied, and when 
 the lad had gone he fairly leaped into the air in his 
 dehght. 
 
 Before he had left the guest-room he remembered 
 that during his restless sleep he had had a dream. In 
 his childhood he had often seen a little boy, the son of 
 poor parents, known by the name of unlucky Knemon, 
 because he looked so doleful that everybody slapped 
 and pushed him because he really seemed to invite
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 26^ 
 
 cuffs. This boy had appeared to him in the dream. 
 Lycon tried to push him aside — but at the same mo- 
 ment the lad was transformed and Eros himself stood 
 smiling before him, a garland of roses on his hair. 
 Gazing intently at Lycon he shook his finger at him. 
 Lycon thought of Myrtale and murmured : " I accept 
 the omen." 
 
 This dream now returned to his mind. 
 
 " Yes," he exclaimed, " yesterday I was a doleful, 
 unlucky Lycon ; I invited a beating — so Simonides 
 kicked me. . . . Would a dog get so many blows if it 
 did not crouch before its master ? Well, I will be 
 braver to-day." 
 
 With these words he took up the two bundles he 
 had brought with him from Athens. 
 
 " What have you there ?" asked Simonides, as he 
 saw Lycon enter with a package under each arm. 
 
 " Not my property, but yours," replied Lycon. 
 
 Simonides understood that the parcels contained 
 the ready money and articles of value Lycon had 
 brought with him from Athens. 
 
 " Put them there," he said, pointing to a small 
 cabinet. 
 
 Lycon laid the bundles down. 
 
 " Tell me," Simonides continued, " what did you 
 think about your position in the city ?" 
 
 " Nothing — by Zeus !" said Lycon, as though 
 amused by his own freedom from anxiety. " I had so 
 much to do in becoming acquainted with people and 
 things in Athens, that I forgot both past and future
 
 270 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 and, when I heard Phorion speak of your iUness and 
 your servants' laziness and negligence, I was so busy 
 in selling my house and slaves to hasten to your assist- 
 ance that not until during the journey here did I find 
 an opportunity to think of scourges, fetters, and brand- 
 ing-irons — in short of all that might await me." 
 
 " Did it not occur to you to run away during the 
 night ?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied Lycon ; " but I said to my- 
 self: 'Then it would have been better not to come at 
 all.' So I stayed." 
 
 " Were you not afraid of being enslaved again ?" 
 
 "No," said Lycon quietly; "you would not do 
 that. You know that a man who has lived for years 
 as a free citizen cannot become a bondsman." 
 
 " Well, by Hera !" exclaimed Simonides laughing, 
 " you are a strange mortal. Yesterday you were all 
 humility, and to-day you dictate what I am to do. 
 Yet I like Lycon better to-day than yesterday ! Take 
 one of my slaves with you, look about the city and 
 return at dinner time ; by that time I shall have con- 
 sidered what will serve you best." 
 
 Yin. 
 
 Accompanied by the gigantic Conops, who had 
 volunteered his services, Lycon went to the market. 
 It was a little open square, one side occupied by the 
 council-hall, a pretty new pillared building, another by
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 27 1 
 
 an ancient temple of Poseidon, one of the noteworthy- 
 objects in the city, a third by an arcade used for a 
 shelter in rainy weather, and the fourth by the houses 
 of the citizens. 
 
 Though it was still early in the day, the place was 
 crowded. Lycon found entertainment in looking 
 about him for, although only in miniature, this market- 
 place was an image of the one in Athens. 
 
 Country people, standing in booths made of inter- 
 woven green branches, were selling fresh cheese, eggs, 
 honey, oil, fruit, and green vegetables ; one or two 
 potters were loudly praising their painted jars ; bakers' 
 wives were half concealed behind huge piles of bread 
 and cakes, and young flower-girls sat among their 
 bright-hued, fragrant wares, busily making wreaths. 
 Freemen, as well as male and female slaves, wandered 
 among the booths, bargaining here and there, while 
 youths in light mantles, with embroidered fillets around 
 their hair, jested with the prettiest saleswomen. But 
 the most successful person was a fieurospastes, the 
 owner of a puppet-show, who had taken his stand on a 
 spot generally used for a slave-mart. Unseen himself, 
 he pulled the hidden strings which set the ugly pup- 
 pets' bodies in motion so that, to the delight of the 
 children and their pedagogues, the figures made the 
 most ridiculous gestures. 
 
 Lycon had stopped a moment to look at the busy 
 puppets and the laughing children, Avhen a strange, 
 deafening noise was suddenly heard. 
 
 It seemed as though a countless number of chains
 
 272 PICTURES OK HELLAS. 
 
 were falling with a prolonged, rattling clash into a 
 measureless depth, yet it was impossible to tell whence 
 the sound came. It filled the earth and the air, and 
 withal was so mighty, so startling, that all jest, all 
 conversation ceased. Even the animals were roused 
 fi-om their usual repose, and the swallows which had 
 been darting and twittering about the market-place 
 and up and down the long Street of the Bakers, sud- 
 denly gathered into flocks and soared screaming into 
 the air as if trying to escape some danger. 
 
 No one remembered having heard anything like it; 
 no one knew what it was. But, from the people who 
 came thronging up, it was soon learned that the noise 
 had been just as loud inside the most closely shut 
 rooms in the houses as in the open market-place and 
 just as near and distinct in each remote part of the city, 
 nay even on the ships in the port. The crews of the 
 vessels declared that the sound came from the water. 
 
 Only one old smith, a man almost a hundred years 
 of age, seemed to suspect the cause. He shook his 
 head anxiously, but would not speak freely. " I may 
 be wrong," he said, " but take my advice. Keep out 
 of the houses — that will perhaps save many a life." 
 
 Lycon felt as though some misfortune was impend- 
 ing. Accompanied by Conops, without knowing where 
 he was going, he had walked down to the harbor, 
 where he had not been since his return to the city. 
 The view here oft'ered to his gaze was so magnificent 
 and beautiful that it made the same impression as if he 
 were beholding it for the first time. Ere long he felt
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 273 
 
 his mind relieved and his former hght-heartedness 
 return. 
 
 What should happen ?" he said to himself. " Can 
 a summer day be clearer or brighter than this ?" 
 
 The sun rode high in the heavens. Not a cloud 
 was visible far or near, and not a breath of air was stir- 
 ring. About thirty boats and small vessels were lying 
 at a quay built of large limestone-blocks — the ones 
 whose masts were seen from the Street of the Bakers. 
 On the right the gaze rested upon the highest part of 
 the city, above which rose the distant mountains of 
 Pherae ; at the left the smiling, fertile coast extended 
 almost as far as the eye could reach, towering upward 
 into a spur of Pelion. Over the green water of the 
 bay, that glittered like a mirror, fishing boats and 
 pleasure craft glided past each other and beyond, like 
 a broad dark-blue stripe, appeared the Pagasaean Gulf, 
 which melted into the open sea, flashing like gold in 
 the sunshine. On the opposite side of the gulf rose 
 the promontory of Pyrrha, while through the mists of 
 distance gleamed the coast-cities, and behind them the 
 ridge of the Othrys mountains, over which led the road 
 to Locris, Boeotia, and Attica. 
 
 Lycon stopped at the first of the little vessels, 
 whose owner, an old sailor named Dorion, he had for- 
 merly known. The sight of this man vividly brought 
 to mind what strangely different fates the same years 
 may bring. While he himself had been in Athens, 
 seeing and hearing so many new things that his mem- 
 ory could scarcely retain them, Dorion had daily sailed
 
 274 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 to and fro across the same corner of the bay to get and 
 sell sand. Yet he seemed content, and when Lycon 
 entered into conversation with him he told him with 
 joyous satisfaction that his boat was new, that his sons 
 had built it, and that it was large enough for him to 
 make longer voyages. 
 
 " But," cried Dorion, suddenly interrupting himself 
 and springing into the bow, " look, look, how the sea 
 is falling! Holy Dioscuri! What is happening before 
 our eyes ? . . . . I never saw the water run out so fast." 
 
 " It is the second marvel to-day," said Lycon. 
 " What can it mean ?" 
 
 Even while they were speaking the boat and all the 
 other small vessels sank lower and lower, so that the 
 lime-stone quay seemed to tower far above them. 
 Confused shouts and shrieks echoed from one craft to 
 another and a moment after the inner bay, except for a 
 few pools of water, lay as dry as a heath, ^^'here the 
 glittering surface of the waves had just extended, 
 nothing was now seen save the greyish sand over- 
 grown here and there with large and small patches of 
 sea-weed. The little vessels which a short time before 
 were flitting about far out on the water, now lay on dry 
 ground, keeling over upon one side, and their crews 
 were seen like small black dots standing around them 
 uncertain what to do. 
 
 Conops, who had watched what was occurring with 
 less indifference and dullness than usual, now made an 
 apt remark. 
 
 " If the bay had been a drinking cup," he said.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 275 
 
 ■" and there was an invisible mouth reaching from one 
 shore to the other, the water could not have been 
 drained quicker — in five, six long swallows." 
 
 " What 1" cried Dorion suddenly, " if I see aright, 
 the water is returning." 
 
 Lycon shaded his eyes with his hand and looked 
 out towards the bay. The mass of water was moving 
 across the cove like a rampart nine or ten ells high, the 
 crest and bottom white with foam, and at a velocity 
 greater than that of a man running at full speed. He 
 saw the billow roll under the craft resting on the 
 ground, raise them aloft, and sweep them onward in its 
 own mad course. 
 
 Followed by Conops, he leaped into Dorion's boat, 
 shouting at the top of his voice to the people in the 
 other vessels : 
 
 *' Loose the boats from the quay ! ... or the water 
 will fill them and drown us all." 
 
 These words ran from mouth to mouth. 
 
 Then a thundering roar echoed from the approach- 
 ing mass of water, it buried the quay in snowy foam, 
 raised one boat after another, — not without partially 
 filling them — and bore them with furious speed up the 
 Street of the Bakers, which lay straight before the 
 landing-place. 
 
 Lycon, Dorion, and Conops had succeeded, with 
 the help of oars and poles, in keeping their craft clear 
 of trees and houses. As if in a dream they heard wild 
 cries of terror and saw the two buildings nearest the 
 harbor sink under the force of the water, while some of
 
 276 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 the small vessels were stranded on the fallen walls and 
 pillars. 
 
 Soon after another surge came rollmg in and, amid 
 fresh shrieks from drowning men, swept the boats 
 farther on into the middle of the long street. Lycon 
 saw with delight that Simonides' house stood uninjured, 
 though the water was more than half way over the 
 door. 
 
 Almost at the same moment human figures were 
 seen on the roofs of the nearest houses, and they heard 
 the shrieks and wails of women, which reminded 
 Lycon of the lamentations daily resounding during the 
 Adonis festival in Athens. But it was easy to perceive 
 that this was a more serious matter for, with the shrieks 
 mingled the shouts of numerous men calling, each 
 from his own side of the street, to the boats for aid. 
 
 Lycon's heart swelled with a humanity as warm as 
 the greatness of the peril surrounding him. Springing 
 to the stern he shouted to the men in the nearest 
 boats : 
 
 " Friends ! let us thank the gods for our own deliv- 
 erance by saving as many of these unfortunates as 
 possible. Let nine or ten of the boats row about in 
 the next street. There is enough for us all to do until 
 evening, though there seems to be only one street 
 besides this under water." 
 
 " The Athenian is right," replied a voice from an- 
 other vessel. " Let us do what we can for the city. 
 Have we not all acquaintances and friends here ?" 
 
 Lycon and Dorion now rowed the boat to Simon-
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 277 
 
 ides' house. There was only one person to be seen on 
 the roof — Paegnion. 
 
 " Where are Simonides and his daughter ?" asked 
 Lycon. 
 
 "On the roof of the women's apartment." 
 
 " And where are the slaves ?" enquired Conops. 
 
 " On the stable." 
 
 Lycon poled the boat between the buildings. Sud- 
 denly it was shaken from stem to stern by a strange, 
 mysterious shock, which congealed the blood in Ly- 
 con's veins. This shock was repeated, though the 
 boat was floating in water three ells deep and had not 
 run against anything. 
 
 At the same moment a cry of horror ran from roof 
 to roof 
 
 " Seiei, seiei ! The earth is shaking, it's an earth- 
 quake." 
 
 Lycon now understood that the day's prodigies, the 
 noise and the flood, were connected with what was oc- 
 curring. 
 
 Though neither of the shocks had lasted longer 
 than the short time required for a man to raise his arms 
 and let them fall again, the result was terrible ; two of 
 the houses in the street sank crashing into the water 
 with the hapless people on their roofs. Fortunately 
 the ruins formed a heap large enough to enable most 
 of the inmates to keep themselves above the tide until 
 the boats could come to their assistance. 
 
 Lycon perceived that there Avas no time to lose. 
 Anxiously as his own heart throbbed, he encouraged
 
 278 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Dorion and Conops. They took off Paegnion, though 
 not without difficulty and, uniting their strength, urged 
 the boat towards the women's apartment. 
 
 But between the buildings the dark, muddy water 
 moved in a powerful stream and, as Dorion unluckily 
 broke his oar, the boat was swept with irresistible force 
 past the corner of the women's apartment out into the 
 garden. Here it struck against the tops of some bushes 
 and suddenly struck fast between the trunks of two trees 
 concealed at the bottom by the water and at the top 
 by leaves. It required a long time and much exertion 
 to release it from this position, and the task was not 
 accomplished until after the water had reached a level 
 in the flooded streets, so that the current was less swift. 
 When they at last succeeded in getting back to the 
 women's apartment, they found it impossible to save 
 Simonides and his daughter without the help of a 
 ladder. 
 
 Lycon was beginning to get impatient over these 
 delays, for the day was waning. 
 
 Conops knew that there ought to be a ladder in the 
 stable, but when the boat reached the place it had dis- 
 appeared. After some search it was found where they 
 least expected to discover it. A rude two-wheeled 
 harvest cart had caught on a marble monument by the 
 side of the house, and the pole of this cart had acci- 
 dentally run between the rounds of the ladder and held 
 it fast. 
 
 It was not without fresh difficulties that they suc- 
 ceeded in raising the ladder to the roof of the women's
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 279 
 
 apartment; and it was high time, for the stars were 
 beginning to twinkle in the sky, Lycon found Simon- 
 ides and Myrtale in a very exhausted condition ; the 
 clothing of both was drenched with water, and they 
 had spent the whole afternoon in dread lest the house 
 should yield to the pressure of the flood and sink be- 
 neath it. The overseer Carion, who had helped Myr- 
 tale carry her father up the stairs, had vainly sought to 
 obtain dry garments ; nothing could be found in the 
 little rooms under the roof. 
 
 Simonides was shaking so violently with a feverish 
 chill that his teeth chattered ; his eyes were closed and 
 he muttered now and then a few unintelligible words; 
 but when Lycon carried him down to the boat he 
 pressed his hand. When Lycon turned to bring Myr- 
 tale she was already standing by her father's side. 
 Light and agile as the pretty little creature " which 
 shades itself with its tail,* she had sprung into the boat 
 unaided. 
 
 Fortunately the craft was a large one, for there 
 were many to save and, much as Lycon hastened the 
 work of rescuing the slaves and their children from. the 
 stable-roof, by the time all had embarked night had 
 closed in, so that it was difficult to find the way out 
 between the buildings. 
 
 * Squirrel.
 
 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 IX. 
 
 It was a strange voyage, which none of the occu- 
 pants of the boat ever forgot. The Street of the Bakers, 
 the largest and finest street in the city, usually so full of 
 life, this evening, for the first time Avithin the memory 
 of man, neither resounded with loud conversations from 
 door to door, nor the merry songs of young men echo- 
 ing from the wine-shops; silence reigned in harmony 
 with the ruin that everywhere met the eye. The rip- 
 pling and gurgling of the water, as well as the light 
 strokes of the oars and the murmured words of the 
 boatmen when two craft met, were the only sounds 
 that interrupted the gloomy stillness. The houses 
 were outlined in dark masses against the sky; but 
 whenever an opening between them was reached 
 columns of smoke and blazing flames were seen in the 
 distance, which shed a murky light on the angles of the 
 houses, the faces in the boats, and the smallest ripple 
 upon the surface of the water. Ever and anon a 
 shower of sparks fell hissing into the waves, and some- 
 times the cool evening breeze swept a veil of smoke 
 over the street, bringing with it a suffocating smell of 
 fire. 
 
 At the edge of the flood the people stood in little 
 groups talking together. From them it was learned 
 that some of the houses in the higher part of the city
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 28 1 
 
 had also fallen. There had been fire on their hearths, 
 the flames had caught the ruins, and it was these build- 
 ings which were now burning. 
 
 At the house of Polycles the wine-dealer, where 
 Lycon, by Myrtale's request, took her father, an un- 
 usual bustle prevailed. Lanterns were hung on slen- 
 der poles in front of the house, and at a number of 
 small tables sat part of the citizens, discussing over a 
 goblet of wine all that had happened on this eventful 
 day. 
 
 At the sight of Lycon, who, with the closely-veiled 
 Myrtale, was supporting Simonides, an eager murmur 
 arose ; some rose to get a better view ; others pointed 
 to him as though saying : " That's he !" and from one 
 table to another the question ran in low tones : 
 
 " Is that the Athenian ?" 
 
 " The one who saved the sailors by unfastening the 
 "boats ?" 
 
 " And who helped the citizens in the flooded 
 streets ?" 
 
 " Who knows him ? — Who can tell whether it's 
 he?" 
 
 The temptation was too strong for Conops; he 
 forgot to ask whether he might speak. 
 
 " I can tell you that !" he replied, not without a 
 touch of pride ; " he's my master's guest, and Lve been 
 Avith him all day, first at market and then in the boat 
 — he and no other is Lycon the Athenian." 
 
 A universal shout of ai)plause rang out ; several 
 women of light repute, who were passing, flung him
 
 2»2 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 kisses, and Polycles, the owner of the house, grasped 
 his hand, saymg : 
 
 " If you are the Lycon of whom everybody is talk- 
 ing, you are a man of honor to whom the city owes 
 more than a new robe." 
 
 Then, with the most cordial sympathy, Polycles wel- 
 comed the sick Simonides and his daughter, and learn- 
 ing from the latter's lips that they had spent the after- 
 noon in terror lest the house should fall and bury them 
 in the water, he said : 
 
 " I won't take you to my old stone mansion — 
 there might be another shock of earthquake — but I 
 have in my garden a good new wooden barn, where 
 you can rest in safety and be supplied by my old 
 housekeeper with everything necessary. The slaves 
 shall be cared for as well as possible." And, as he 
 took Simonides' arm out of Lycon's to guide him and 
 Myrtale to their temporary abode, he called to one of 
 the boys who were hurrying about waiting on the 
 guests and ordered him to bring Lycon wine, barley 
 bread, cheese, and fruit. 
 
 While the latter was hurriedly eating the meal 
 before returning to Dorian's boat, Polycles came back 
 from the garden and Lycon hastened to say : 
 
 " I see that many of the citizens have assembled 
 here. Could not some of the younger ones relieve 
 one another in guarding the burned houses, that no one 
 in the absence of the master and the darkness of the 
 night, may get in and take what still remains. A
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 285 
 
 watch will be kept from the boats upon the houses in 
 the flooded streets." 
 
 Instead of answering, Polycles turned to the people 
 seated at the tables and called in a loud voice : 
 
 " Citizens, this stranger puts us to shame. He 
 seems to think more and take wiser care of our city 
 than we who were born and have spent our lives here. 
 Do you know what he proposes ?" 
 
 Polycles had scarcely repeated Lycon's advice ere 
 twelve or fourteen young men came forward, ready for 
 the required service. Soon after they were divided 
 into three parties, the first of which, supplied with a 
 sack of Chian wine and accompanied by some slaves, 
 went to the scene of the fire. 
 
 " My house is yours," said Polycles to Lycon, 
 " come here when there is nothing more to be saved. 
 You will need rest and sleep if the night is quiet." 
 
 Before Lycon, followed by Conops, again entered 
 the boat, he lighted with the help of some of the 
 citizens a large pile of wood on the edge of the flood, 
 so that the vessels might be provided with torches 
 whenever they brought anything they had rescued 
 ashore. Then an agreement was made between the 
 captains of the boats about sharing the work. Half a 
 score of the craft were stationed in each street, five on 
 a side. The rest were to help wherever assistance was 
 most needed and, as ladders had been found necessary 
 in many instances, most of the boats were provided 
 with them. 
 
 When everything was arranged in this way, the
 
 204 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 work of rescue progressed more rapidly than Lycon 
 had expected, and when at last no voice called for aid, 
 the twenty boats had saved the owners of more than 
 twenty houses, besides a large number of slaves. 
 
 Lycon, attended by Conops, now hurried back to 
 Polycles' house. The wine-dealer came to meet him 
 with a troubled face and told him that Simonides was 
 dangerously ill. The cold and fright he had endured 
 had been too severe a trial for him. 
 
 As Lycon entered the wooden barn where Simonides 
 and his daughter were lodged, his first glance sought 
 the sick man. The latter's eyes were open, but stared 
 fixedly into vacancy, and his thin hands fumbled to 
 and fro over the coverlids with a convulsive twitching. 
 Lycon wished to approach, but Polycles held him back. 
 
 On the opposite side of the couch sat a little man 
 of grave and dignified bearing, dressed in a white robe. 
 Lycon instantly saw that this was the physician ; for 
 ever and anon he took the sick man's hand to judge of 
 his condition by the pulse, and on a little table close 
 beside him lay his pouch of medicines and the instru- 
 ments used in his i)rofession. At the foot of the bed 
 stood the overseer, Carion, with clasped hands and 
 eyes fixed on his suffering master. 
 
 The preparations hastily made for the latter's com- 
 fort showed that the household was a Avealthy one. 
 Milesian carpets were hung in a semi-circle around the 
 couch to shut out every draught of air, and beneath its 
 ivory feet Babylonian stuffs had been spread to prevent 
 any chill from the stone floor.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 285 
 
 The twitching of the sick man's hands gradually- 
 ceased. The physician rose softly and went to Poly- 
 cles. 
 
 " Simonides is better," he said. " But if you have 
 anything important to discuss with him, do not delay. 
 His voice will soon become thick and unintelligible." 
 
 " Do you think his death is near ?" 
 
 " If it is the will of the gods, he may live a day or 
 more; but he will never rise from this bed." 
 
 Soon after, the restless movements of the patient's 
 hands ceased and they fell feebly on the coverhd. 
 Raising his head with difficulty he looked around him. 
 
 " Where is Myrtale .?" was his first question. 
 
 " She is preparing a decoction the doctor ordered," 
 replied the wine-dealer. 
 
 " And Lycon ?" 
 
 " Here," said Polycles, beckoning to Lycon to ap- 
 proach the bed. 
 
 " Is it true," asked Simonides, " that you have 
 saved the citizens in the flooded streets, besides numer- 
 ous slaves ?" 
 
 " Not my boat only, all the small craft." 
 
 " It's the same thing," said Simonides with a faint 
 smile, " you will now and in the future be regarded as 
 one of the benefactors of the city, a sort of demi-god — 
 and as it is not seemly for a demi-god to be a bonds- 
 man, I shall give you your liberty. Polycles, who 
 knows everything that concerns you, has added the 
 necessary codicil to my last will, which he and the 
 physician have signed as witnesses."
 
 286 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Lycon knelt beside the couch, clasped Sitnonides' 
 hand, and covered it with kisses. " I thank you," he 
 faltered, overwhelmed by emotion. " You have ful- 
 filled my dearest wish. I have obtained my freedom 
 — and this time I did not steal it." 
 
 Soon after the curtain at the door was pushed aside 
 and Myrtale entered, followed by the old housekeeper. 
 She held a glass cup in her hands and seemed to have 
 eyes only for her sick father. The physician poured a 
 few drops from a little flask into the smoking potion, 
 and Simonides drank a few mouthfuls. " How it re- 
 vives me !" he said, while Myrtale was straightening 
 the embroidered pillows under his head and shoulders. 
 " Are those lamps which shine so ? It seems as though 
 I saw the sun in the midst of the night." 
 
 " Do you feel better, old friend ?" asked Polycles. 
 
 A glimmer of his former mirthful spirit sparkled in 
 Simonides' small brown eyes. 
 
 " That fellow yonder," he whispered, pointing to 
 the physician, *'has given me too many drops, He 
 didn't make me well, but drunk." 
 
 Then, with an unexpectedly sudden movement, he 
 seized Myrtale's ann. His mouth and chin projected 
 so that he was almost unrecognizable, and a corpse-like 
 hue overspread his face as swiftly as though an unseen 
 hand had caused it by gliding lightly over it. 
 
 "He is dying! he is dying!" cried Myrtale and, 
 sobbing passionately, she flung herself upon her father's 
 breast.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 287 
 
 X. 
 
 A LARGE clay jar filled with water, placed outside 
 the door of Polycles' dwelling, announced the next 
 morning, to all who passed, that the mansion was a 
 house of mourning. While the female slaves were per- 
 fuming and dressing the dead man, Polycles was talk- 
 ing with Myrtale about Simonides' last will. 
 
 Myrtale had no brother, but was a so-called inherit- 
 ing daughter.* As there was no kinsman whom she 
 could wed and endow with her fortune, Simonides had 
 bequeathed his whole property, amounting to twenty 
 talents, to his friend Polycles on condition that he 
 should marry Myrtale. If Polycles was not willing to 
 do this, he was to inherit only two talents and then use 
 his best judgment in choosing a husband for the young 
 girl who, in such a case, was to keep all the rest of the 
 fortune as a dowry. 
 
 Much as Myrtale was absorbed in her grief, she 
 felt the importance of the arrangements which would 
 decide her fate. So it was a great relief to her when 
 Polycles- said that he was too old to take a young wife 
 and, moreover, had been warned in a dream against 
 marrying again. One night in his sleep he had seen 
 his house decked with garlands as though for a bridal ; 
 but when he was leading the bride home the green 
 wreath vanished and, in its place above the door, hung 
 
 *In Athens, daughters inherited only in default of male lieirs.
 
 265 nCTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 an oil-jar, twined with a blue ribbon, as though for an 
 offering at a tomb. The interpreter of dreams being 
 consulted had said that if Polycles married he would 
 die on his wedding day. 
 
 Polycles then asked the young girl to consider him 
 a second father, and added that he would not act 
 against her wishes in the choice of a bridegroom. 
 
 During the day another shock of earthquake was 
 felt, and though it did no damage except to open 
 cracks in the ancient walls of the city, universal terror 
 was aroused. Some fled to the market-place, and 
 others, fearing another flood, to the nearest heights. 
 This dread, however, proved groundless. On the con- 
 trary, the water in the inundated streets began to fall 
 so rapidly that the boats were obliged to follow it in 
 haste, and by noon they were again lying at their usual 
 place, moored to the lime-stone quay,. though this quay 
 no longer rose so far above the surface of the tide and 
 the whole of the old shore, with its pebbles, sea-weed, 
 and mussel-shells, remained under the waves. 
 
 Simonides' funeral was conducted as beseemed a 
 wealthy family. The corpse, crowned with myrtle and 
 resting on embroidered pillows, was displayed upon a 
 couch, where it was seen during the day by a throng of 
 citizens, old and young, rich and poor, some of the 
 latter clad in grey or black clothes with closely cut 
 hair, asserting by this mourning garb a distant relation- 
 ship. 
 
 On the day of the funeral obsequies hundreds of 
 persons assembled outside the house and, before the sun
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 289 
 
 rose, the funeral procession started amid the mournful 
 notes of Carian flutes, alternating with a chorus of 
 men's voices. This choir was followed by the dead 
 man's friends and acquaintances, numbering more than 
 half the citizens of the place. Then came the bier, an 
 ivory bed, borne by friends and freedmen, among them 
 Lycon, to whom many hands pointed and many lips 
 mentioned as the "preserver of the city, the quick- 
 witted Athenian." On the ivory couch lay the dead 
 man, robed in white and covered with so many wreaths 
 and blue and red sacrifice ribbons, that the magnificent 
 purple carpet in which he was wrapped could scarcely 
 be seen. By the side of the bier walked slaves bearing 
 oil jars, boxes of ointment, and other articles belonging 
 to the funeral rites. Then came a few elderly kins- 
 women, for Myrtale was too young to follow the corpse. 
 The train was closed by a few sacrifice attendants in 
 short parti-colored mantles and light half boots, who 
 bore on their heads small offering-tables covered with 
 offerings of the same kind as those the slaves carried 
 beside the bier. 
 
 At the farthest end of Polycles' garden the funeral 
 train stopped on a height which afforded a view of the 
 city, harbor, bay, and country beyond. This had al- 
 ways been Simonides' favorite spot, and he had often 
 expressed a desire to be laid to rest here. 
 
 At the foot of the hill was seen the huge funeral 
 pyre, a heap of logs filled with combustible materials. 
 After it had been adorned with the jars, vases, and 
 dishes brought, and the bier lifted upon it, it was 
 
 19
 
 290 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 lighted by torches. Amid the sobs and wails of the 
 spectators, the flames flared high into the air and in an 
 instant the smoke and red blaze enveloped the bier, 
 concealing it from every eye. Many an oil jar, many 
 a box of ointment was now flung upon the fire as a last 
 token of affection and, when it was once more possible 
 to see the pyre, the bier had crumbled into a dark, 
 shapeless mass, from which rose a column of black 
 smoke. 
 
 The majority of the procession returned to Polycles' 
 house and there, as the dead man's guests, partook of 
 a festal banquet. Some few, among them Lycon, re- 
 mained until the ashes were collected and the bones 
 committed to the bosom of the earth. 
 
 Three days after, the first, and nine days after the 
 second offering to the dead was brought to the grave. 
 About a week later a marble column was erected upon 
 it, crowned with a capital made of colored acanthus 
 leaves. The thirtieth day after the funeral obsequies 
 Myrtale twined the memorial column with blue and 
 red sacrifice ribbons from which hung small oil jars, 
 after which she poured milk, honey, spring-water, and 
 mixed wine on the ground as a sacrifice to the rich 
 man's shade, tsrking careful heed to throw each one of 
 the vessels she had used over her shoulder, so that they 
 were shattered, for none of the articles which had 
 served at a funeral ceremonial could be used by the 
 living. 
 
 With this ofiering the time of mourning ended.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 29 1 
 
 XL 
 
 A FEW days later Polycles and Myrtale visited Si- 
 •monides' country-house to look after a vineyard whose 
 fruit, in Polycles' opinion, was the best in Thessaly. 
 When they returned home, accompanied by a male and 
 female slave, evening was approaching. The sun was 
 sinking behind some hills, and the atmosphere glowed 
 with orange and crimson hues. The road they were 
 following was only marked by a few deep wheel tracks 
 in the grass ; on the right was a clump of gnarled olive 
 trees, whose foliage as usual reflected the color of the 
 sky, so that now in the sunset radiance they seemed 
 covered with a golden veil ; on the left a brook flowed 
 between hedges of flowering laurel. A light mist was 
 rising from the meadows, and the whole air was filled 
 with the spicy odor of blossoms. Ever and anon a 
 faint twitter echoed from the bushes ; sometimes a bee, 
 apparently bewildered and drowsy, »buzzed upward 
 from the grass at their feet, and through the profound 
 stillness of the country a dog's bark was heard in the 
 distance. 
 
 There was something in the peacefulness of the 
 evening which invited familiar conversation. Polycles 
 took Myrtale's hand. 
 
 " Dear child," he said. " It is time to think of 
 your affairs." 
 
 " What do you mean, Polycles ?"
 
 292 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 " I am wondering whether among the youths of the 
 city, whom you must have seen on festival days, there 
 is not one you would like for a husband." 
 
 Myrtale blushed faintly, but shook her head. 
 
 " There is Theagenes, the son of Straton, the dyer. 
 True, he is rather stout for a young man, but he is 
 clever, talks well, and has a fortune at least as large as 
 your own." 
 
 Myrtale made no reply; but struck, with the tassel 
 on the corner of her upper robe, the head of a dande- 
 lion growing by the roadside, so that its white down 
 flew in every direction. 
 
 Polycles understood that the proposed suitor was 
 excluded from the list. 
 
 " There is Eumolpus, son of Socles the rope- 
 maker I" he continued. " He is slender, well-formed, 
 and handsome. True, he is on intimate terms with a 
 hetaira, but after marriage. . . ." 
 
 Myrtale made no answer in words ; but the tassel 
 was put in motion with the same result as before. 
 
 " There is also," added Polycles, " young Nicias, 
 your neighbor's son. I don't deny that since his visit 
 to Athens he has become a dandy ; but. . . ." 
 
 This was too much for Myrtale ; she forgot the 
 reserve required of a young girl and wrathfuUy ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " The coxcomb !" 
 
 " But is there no one ?" 
 
 Myrtale silently lowered her eyes : then, to change 
 the conversation, said:
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 293 
 
 " How is the house in the Street of the Bakers ? 
 Has it been much damaged by the flood and the 
 earthquake ?" 
 
 " Only one of the pillars in the peristyle was twisted 
 awry ; but the damage has been repaired and, so far 
 as your home is concerned, you can have the wedding 
 there any day." 
 
 As they approached the city Myrtale became more 
 and more thoughtful. Suddenly she sighed, drew her 
 hand from her companion's clasp, and remarked : 
 
 " It's a pity that Lycon is a slave !" Then, as if 
 fearing she had said too much, she hastened to add: 
 •" Don't you think so, too ?" 
 
 Polycles looked keenly at her and, in spite of the 
 dusk of evening, he noticed that her cheeks were 
 flushed. 
 
 " You are mistaken, child," he replied. " Lycon is 
 no slave. Your father freed him on the day of his 
 death." 
 
 " And I knew nothing about it ?" 
 
 "You were standing at the hearth, preparing the 
 decoction the physician had ordered." 
 
 " My dear father !" exclaimed Myrtale, deeply 
 moved, kissing her fingers as if she had seen the dead 
 man alive before her. 
 
 " But that doesn't settle everything," said Polycles 
 gravely. " In Athens Lycon is a spurious citizen and 
 subject to the penalty of the law. He would be made 
 a. slave there." 
 
 Myrtale started.
 
 294 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 " Do what you can for him," she said hurriedly, 
 clasping Polycles' hand in both her own. 
 
 "That is no easy matter," rephed Polycles, who 
 found a secret satisfaction in being entreated to do 
 what he himself intended. " It's no easy matter, I tell 
 you." 
 
 " You cafi free him, if you wish. Remember what 
 he has done for the city. Besides, did he not save my 
 father's life and mine ?" 
 
 " I'll think of it," said Polycles. 
 
 "No, no, you must promise me!" exclaimed Myr- 
 tale. " Save him from the punishment of the law, and 
 I will be a daughter to you ! And raising herself on 
 tiptoe, she flung her arms around Polycles' neck and 
 kissed him on the cheek. 
 
 Polycles felt the soft pressure of Myrtale's youthful 
 figure and, when he had taken leave of her at the door 
 of the women's apartment in his house, he stood still,, 
 absorbed in thought. 
 
 " By Aphrodite !" he cried, " the girl is bewitching, 
 and I am not so old. . . ." 
 
 But at the same instant he beheld, as he had done 
 in his dream, the oil-jar suspended by a blue ribbon 
 over the door of his house. He pressed his hands 
 upon his eyes and, when he entered his lonely sleeping- 
 room, he said, sighing : 
 
 " Polycles, you are a greater simpleton than I had 
 supposed."
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 295 
 
 XII. 
 
 The next morning the public criers summoned the 
 citizens to a popular assembly, and soon after the 
 streets were filled with young and old, rich and poor, 
 who, amid hubbub, shrieks, and laughter, flocked 
 towards the theatre, the place where popular assemblies 
 were usually held in the smaller cities. 
 
 Thessaly, renowned for its beautiful river valley, its 
 fine horses, and its powerful sorceresses, was at that 
 time under the sole rule of Alexander of Pherae — a 
 man who treated his subjects so harshly that he or- 
 dered some to be buried alive and had others dressed 
 in bear-skins and torn to pieces by dogs. Like all 
 tyrants, he lived in perpetual fear. He had so little faith 
 in his own body guard that he had himself watched by 
 a dog; he spent the night in the upper loft of his 
 stately palace, that he might be able to draw the ladder 
 up after him. The family to which he belonged had 
 raised themselves from Tagoi, chiefs elected by the 
 people, to sovereigns, and he himself, like his predeces- 
 sor, "had paved his way to power by murder. 
 
 But heavily as Alexander's yoke rested upon the 
 city of Pherae, it was comparatively little felt in Me- 
 thone, though the latter was scarcely a day's journey 
 away. When the little city had sent its quota of men 
 to the army and paid its taxes, the citizens had full 
 liberty to attend to their own affairs, while the descen-
 
 296 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 dants of the original inhabitants of the country, as 
 slaves, penestae, performed all the field work and 
 drudgery. Whoever did not know better might have 
 easily believed that Methone was a free state. 
 
 On the way to the place of assembly, Polycles fol- 
 lowed the least frequented streets. Suddenly he signed 
 to the slaves who accompanied him to keep back and, 
 throwing his arm over Lycon's shoulder, he said to 
 him : 
 
 " My friend, I have important matters to discuss 
 with you to-day ! You know that Simonides, in his 
 last will, left me his fortune and his daughter. But, as 
 I am too old to marry a young wife, I want to ask if 
 you are willing to take the girl with a dowry of eighteen 
 talents ?" 
 
 Lycon stopped, but did not utter a word in reply. 
 If the rude statue of Poseidon in front of the temple of 
 the god had suddenly descended from its pedestal and 
 come towards him, he could not have been more 
 speechless with bewilderment. 
 
 " That this may be done," Polycles continued smil- 
 ing, "I will adopt you as a son and make you my 
 heir. True, I should have preferred a suitor who was 
 the girl's equal in birth, but as she seems to inchne to 
 you, I will submit to her wish." 
 
 Lycon drew a long breath, and passed his huge 
 hand over his face several times. 
 
 " I thank you, Polycles," he said at last, " I thank 
 you from my heart ! But how is this to be ? I am a 
 freedman, it is true; but you forget. . . ."
 
 LVCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 297 
 
 " I forget nothing," answered Polycles. " But one 
 thing you must know — the citizens must hear the 
 whole story. . . . your condition of slave, your sin, and 
 the punishment whose mark you bear. In a little 
 place like Methone nothing can be hidden, so it is 
 better to confess everything yourself rather than have it 
 discovered by others. Besides, matters relating to in- 
 heritance, marriage, and other kindred affairs are often 
 discussed in our popular assembhes. Here, where all 
 the citizens know each other, no distinction is made 
 between public and private business." 
 
 In front of the theatre the city police were busily 
 engaged in urging on the groups of gossiping, laughing 
 citizens by threatening to mark them with ropes cov- 
 ered with red paint. These ropes left ugly stains on 
 mantles, and the people therefore tried to avoid them. 
 
 But the largest crowd outside of the theatre was 
 not disturbed by the police. It consisted of slaves 
 waiting for the close of the assembly to attend their 
 masters to the market, baths, or gymnasium. These 
 slaves were no less merry than the citizens. Their at- 
 tention was specially directed to the flat roofs of the 
 nearest houses, where a group of young slave-girls 
 were busily sunning rugs and cushions, to get an oppor- 
 tunity to see the throngs of men and be seen by them. 
 Signs, not always the most seemly, were sometimes ex- 
 changed between the square before the theatre and the 
 roofs. 
 
 At the entrance the recording clerk objected to ad- 
 jnitting Lycon ; but Polycles patted him on the shoul-
 
 298 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 der, saying : " If this man isn't a citizen of Methone, 
 he will soon become one. Let him go in." 
 
 The interior of the theatre presented a deep, semi- 
 circular recess, surrounded by a mound of earth slant- 
 ing upward, covered with stone benches, and supported 
 by a thick encircling wall. About the center of the 
 place, between the seats rising around, stood the altar, 
 where, at the moment Polycles and Lycon entered, a 
 priest in a long white robe, with a garland on his hair, 
 was in the act of offering the customary sacrifice of 
 purification. When this short ceremony was over the 
 chief magistrate took his seat and a struggle, half jest, 
 half earnest, followed, for all wanted places in the front 
 row where they could hear best. 
 
 The chief magistrate opened the meeting by relat- 
 ing the misfortunes which had recently overwhelmed 
 the place. When he spoke of the efficient service ren- 
 dered by the boats during the flood, a smith rose in 
 the crowd and in a deep voice shouted : 
 
 " Let us not forget the brave Athenian, Lycon. 
 But for him many of us would have perished. It is he 
 who saved us by first unmooring the boats." 
 
 " Yes, yes, the smith is right !" responded many 
 voices, with an earnestness which showed that the 
 speakers themselves had been among the number of 
 those rescued. 
 
 The dead and missing had not even one word of 
 remembrance. Human life was of little value in those 
 days. On the other hand, the magistrate did not 
 forget to mention that the lands of the city had suf-
 
 LYCON WITH THK BIG HAND. 299 
 
 fered very little damage, almost all of them having 
 been too high to be reached by the flood. The shocks 
 of earthquake had caused warm springs, which possi- 
 bly possessed healing powers, to bubble up in many 
 places, and in that case they might become a source of 
 great wealth to the city and perhaps render it as much 
 frequented as Aedepsus in Euboea. 
 
 As exaggerated rumors of the injury sustained by 
 the city had been in circulation, this report was re- 
 ceived with joy, and the assembly was in the best 
 humor when a tall, thin man, with hollow cheeks and 
 a long beard, stepped forward saying : 
 
 " I am a friend of the simple, frugal customs of our 
 ancestors." 
 
 " That's why you go ragged and shoeless," shouted 
 a youthful voice from one of the nearest passages be- 
 tween the seats. 
 
 The speaker was a little disconcerted, but recovered 
 his composure. 
 
 " I do not favor the new custom of bestowing on 
 any one who does the place a trifling service the high- 
 sounding title of benefactor of the city, and overwhelm- 
 ing him with rewards and marks of distinction. If we 
 keep on so there will soon be as many benefactors as 
 citizens; one after another is not only released from 
 paying taxes, but granted money to boot, while the 
 really useful citizens, the instructors of youth and the 
 people. . . ." 
 
 " Who is that speaking ?" asked a white-bearded
 
 300 PICTURES OF HKM.AS. 
 
 old man on the front row of seats, holding his hand to 
 his ear to catch the answer : 
 
 " That is the orator, Philopator," replied the person 
 addressed, with a scornful emphasis on the word " ora- 
 tor." 
 
 " He's also called the man with the mustard face," 
 added another. 
 
 As these explanations were given to a deaf man, 
 Philopator could not avoid hearing them. Perceiving 
 that the current of feeling was against him, he con- 
 tinued more rapidly with visible irresolution. 
 
 " The gods forbid that I should envy anybody. 
 No one can feel a deeper reverence for actual services, 
 deeds truly great, exploits really noble. But, my 
 friends, is there anything great in saving a few people 
 in a boat ? That requires neither the sage's sagacity, 
 the warrior's courage, nor the sacrifice of self It is a 
 thing any one can do, the ignorant as well as the ex- 
 pert." 
 
 " Then you ought to have done it, Philopator," 
 shouted the smith's deep voice, and as there was some- 
 thing in Philopator's appearance that showed he had 
 never handled an oar, the interruption caused immod- 
 erate laughter. 
 
 Philopator wiped the perspiration from his brow. 
 
 " I have never boasted of seamanship," he replied. 
 
 The words were received with a fresh outbreak of 
 mirth. 
 
 " You have talked enough !" cried a voice.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 3OI 
 
 « 
 
 " We know what you want to say !" shouted a 
 second. 
 
 " Back to your seat !" added a third. 
 
 Then, as the luckless orator still remained standing, 
 a terrible tumult arose and at the same time deafening 
 shouts burst like a gust of wind or a sudden tempest 
 over the assembly. 
 
 The wretched Philopator, at whom hundreds of 
 throats were yelling, became fairly frantic. He turned 
 deadly pale, tore his hair, and ran to and fro in the 
 level space as though out of his senses. As his voice 
 would have been lost amid the shouts, he threw him- 
 self humbly on his knees and extended his arms 
 towards the benches from -which echoed the most furi- 
 ous cries. At last the storm subsided and the smith's 
 deep voice said : 
 
 " Go back to your seat, Philopator, that's the best 
 thing to do." 
 
 The orator followed the good advice and, trembling 
 from head to foot, slunk back to his place, where he 
 cowered making himself as small as possible., 
 
 Polycles signed to Lycon to seat himself behind the 
 bema, where he was concealed from every one; then 
 he himself stepped forward, apparently as calm as when 
 moving among the guests in front of his house. 
 
 " Fellow citizens," he said, " I am no professional 
 orator like Philopator yonder, but perhaps you will 
 listen to me, since I wish to speak to you of a man 
 who came to us in an evil time and who, within a few 
 days, has become dear to the whole city."
 
 302 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 " Speak, speak !" shouted numerous voices. 
 
 " Much evil and much good can be told of him. I 
 will begin with the evil. . . . You think Lycon is an 
 Athenian — he is not. You think Lycon is a citizen — 
 he is not that either. He is a freedman, who a little 
 more than a month ago was a slave," 
 
 This statement was followed by silence so pro- 
 found that no one would have believed himself to be 
 in the same place and among the same men who a 
 short time before were yelling at Philopator. Amid 
 the breathless expectation of the throng, external sur- 
 roundings suddenly seemed like a revelation from an- 
 other world. The wind was heard sighing through the 
 tree-tops and the swallows twittering in the air. Many 
 on the back seats rose and held their hands behind 
 their ears, that they might not lose a single word. 
 
 Polycles did not spare Lycon, but told the people 
 that his dead friend Simonides a few years before had 
 bought a young slave named Zenon, who, after being 
 branded for theft, had fled to Poseidon's altar. For a 
 long time Zenon had served his new master well ; but 
 when he saw a man from Hypata pay Simonides a 
 large sum of money, he ran away with it during the 
 night. 
 
 A movement passed through the assembly, one 
 man muttered to another. Polycles foresaw a fresh 
 storm. 
 
 *' Friends and fellow citizens," he said in a jesting 
 tone ; " we know each other, so I shall not ask you to 
 keep quiet. On the contrary, I will beg you to chatter
 
 LYCON WITH THE BICx HAND. 303 
 
 and yell to your hearts' content, in order to have it 
 over the sooner." 
 
 Some of the men laughed ; but most were already 
 too angry to allow themselves to be softened by a jest. 
 
 " A branded slave !" cried some. 
 
 " And we have been permitted to do him honor !" 
 
 " Why did no one tell us ?" 
 
 " Let us drive this Zenon out of the city !" 
 
 " We'll stone him !" 
 
 *' Truly a fine benefactor to add to the rest of the 
 city's benefactors !" shouted Philopator. But those 
 who sat nearest seized his robe and forced him back 
 into his seat. As he made wild gestures with his arms 
 and assumed the air of a deeply injured man, the smith 
 turned towards him. 
 
 " Philopator!" 
 
 He merely uttered the man's name, but in precisely 
 the same tone as if he had been a dog. Philopator 
 made no reply, but shrunk into as small a space in his 
 comer as possible. 
 
 At the sight of this submission, which could only be 
 explained by a thorough respect for the smith's brawny 
 fists, a noisy expression of mirth ran through the as- 
 sembly. 
 
 Polycles continued : 
 
 " I will now speak of Lycon's good qualities," and 
 he related how the latter had been respected as a 
 citizen and popular with all in Athens. " We Me- 
 thonians," he added, " have cause to be proud that an 
 insignificant slave from this city was found worthy to
 
 304 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 associate with the leading men in Athens, so that he 
 was daily seen arm in arm with the rich Timotheus, 
 son of Conon." 
 
 Polycles knew his fellow citizens, the Methonians. 
 If anything could flatter their pride, it would be to 
 have one of their own number, and a poor slave into 
 the bargain, win favor and affection in Athens. 
 
 '' Even if the man did once take what belonged to 
 others," observed a friendly philosopher, " there may 
 be some good in him." 
 
 " Yes, Lycon is really a good man," replied Poly- 
 cles, and now related how the latter, who was living so 
 prosperously in Athens, had no sooner heard of Simon- 
 ides' illness and the slaves' neglect than he sold every- 
 thing he possessed and came to Methone to restore 
 order in the household and obtain his master's forgive- 
 ness. 
 
 " That was a noble act ! Yes, by Zeus, a noble 
 act!" shouted many voices. 
 
 Polycles then spoke of the flood and, by a clever 
 inspiration, described how Philopator, who thought it 
 was so easy to save a few people in a boat, would have 
 behaved. At sight of the gigantic billow that rolled 
 in, threatening to sweep everything away, he would 
 surely have been no less disconcerted than at the storm 
 which had recently burst upon him in the assembly. 
 He would have fled at full speed up the street, but 
 would have been overtaken by the water and met his 
 death with the men in the boats. But how had Lycon 
 behaved ? Instead of flying before the flood, he had.
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 305 
 
 jumped into the nearest boat and, instead of thinking 
 solely of himself, in the midst of the peril had remem- 
 bered others and warned the men in the rest of the 
 boats. " Had it not been for Lycon," said Polycles, 
 raising his voice, " not only would thirty men in the 
 boats have perished, but a number of free citizens, as 
 well as slaves, would have lost their lives in the flooded 
 streets. For, on that day of misfortune, Lycon, with 
 perhaps a score of boats, saved from about twenty 
 flooded houses eighty citizens, men, women and chil- 
 dren, besides more than two hundred and seventy 
 slaves. So great is the number of those who owe their 
 lives to Lycon." 
 
 A deafening tumult of joy arose, a storm of ap- 
 plause, and it was long ere Polycles could again be 
 heard. 
 
 " I think, therefore," he added, " that Lycon has 
 some claim — even if Philopator does not consider it — 
 to deserve the name of benefactor of the city." 
 
 Just at that moment a voice from one of the back 
 seats shouted : " Where is Lycon ? We want to see 
 him." 
 
 The cry was instantly taken up by all, and the 
 whole theatre echoed with the call : " Where is 
 Lycon ?" 
 
 '• It seems to me," said Polycles, smiling, " that the 
 very men who a short time ago wanted to drive Lycon 
 out of the city and stone him, are now shouting the 
 loudest." 
 
 These words roused much noisy hilarity. The
 
 3o6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 worthy Methonians could not help laughing themselves 
 at the ease with which they passed from one extreme 
 to the other. 
 
 " As I knew you would want to see Lycon," Poly- 
 cles added, " I have, with the chief magistrate's permis- 
 sion, brought him with me." He beckoned to Lycon 
 and the latter, pale with emotion but apparently calm, 
 now came forward before the rampart of human faces 
 formed by the seats towering before him. 
 
 At the sight of Lycon's frank, good-natured face 
 and powerful form, a new and long continued storm of 
 applause arose. 
 
 " Dear friends and fellow citizens," Polycles began 
 again, " I will propose to you to reward this man in a 
 way that will bring no great expense upon the city 
 and yet, perhaps, best suit his own wishes. Simonides, 
 as you know, bequeathed me his fortune with his 
 daughter. But, as I am too old to take a young wife 
 and the girl has a fancy for Lycon, I thought of giving 
 her to him in marriage, by which he will come into 
 possession of the greater part of her property. But, to 
 do this, you must make him a citizen; then I will 
 adopt him as a son and name him my heir, that he 
 may become a proper suitor. But to prevent any 
 one in future from taunting Lycon with having been a 
 branded slave, I propose to you that as a pubhc re- 
 ward, you bestow upon him exemption from taxes and 
 a free maintenance in the Prytaneium. 
 
 " Lastly, let there be hung in the temple of Posei- 
 don a tablet bearing a representation of Lycon's deed
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 30/ 
 
 at the time of the flood and a short account of his hfe, 
 in which it should be stated that he had been a 
 branded slave. Coming generations could then read 
 there that the city of Methone did her duty even to 
 the most insignificant person. This, dear fellow-citi- 
 zens, is my proposal concerning Lycon. If any one 
 has a better plan to suggest, I will gladly recall it." 
 
 The rope-maker. Socles, rose. He was a small, 
 stout man, with big, prominent eyes and a wide half 
 open mouth, which gave him an extremely foolish air. 
 
 " I can vote for no reward to this Lycon," he said. 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Because, by Zeus, he seems to me one of the most 
 foohsh of men ! . . . . If he was living so merrily and 
 contentedly at Athens as is said, why doesn't he stay 
 there ? What does he want here of us ?" 
 
 Lycon laughed and asked : 
 
 " Of what city is this man a native ?" 
 
 " Of Chaeroneia." 
 
 " Aha !" exclaimed Lycon laughing, " I thought 
 the man who reproached me for my return to Me- 
 thone, the only good deed I ever performed, must be a 
 — Boeotian !" 
 
 Socles did not know what to answer and, seeing 
 him stand there with his mouth wide open, an image 
 of Boeotian stupidity, the whole assembly burst into a 
 roar of laughter, so scornful, noisy, deafening in its 
 mirth, that it seemed as if every stone in the theatre 
 was laughing. 
 
 Socles stood for a moment as though paralyzed
 
 3o8 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 with bewilderment. Then, wrapping his mantle around 
 him, he started with crimson face for the nearest en- 
 trance, slipping through the crowd, stridmg over empty- 
 places in the stone benches, and forcing his way- 
 through the groups in the passages. It was done so 
 quickly that it looked as if the fat little man was blown 
 away over the seats by the unbridled laughter of the 
 throng. 
 
 "Why, why, how he jumps!" shouted the smith, 
 shaking with glee as, fairly convulsed with merriment, 
 he loudly slapped his thigh. 
 
 " Lycon has made Socles a deer !" cried a second 
 voice. 
 
 *' He skips like a discus behind the mark !" added 
 a third. 
 
 When silence was partially restored, the chief mag- 
 istrate put Polycles' proposal to vote. All raised their 
 hands except Philopator. But when the smith, who 
 still kept an eye on him, cleared his throat loudly and 
 looked askance at him, Philopator's hand also rose, 
 though slowly and reluctantly. 
 
 The chief magistrate, a white-haired old man of 
 venerable aspect, embraced Lycon in the presence of 
 the whole assembly and said to him in a tone so loud 
 and distinct that amid the deep silence it was heard in 
 the most distant seats : 
 
 " You are now a citizen of Methone and a guest of 
 the Prytaneium. May you have happiness and pros- 
 perity."
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 309 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The next day Polycles sent by a trustworthy mes- 
 senger a letter to the ship-owner in Athens who had 
 been the demarch of Lycon's district. The wine- 
 dealer knew him, for the latter had visited Methone 
 more than once in his ship. Ten days after the answer 
 came, stating that if Lycon would pay a fine of ten 
 minae his name would be erased from the list of citi- 
 zens, thereby avoiding any legal prosecution. 
 
 At this message Lycon drew a deep breath, like a 
 man who has reached dry land after fighting a long 
 time for his life among the waves. 
 
 "The gods be praised!" he exclaimed. " Now, for 
 the first time, I can use my liberty as a thing which 
 belongs to me, and which no man has a right to take 
 away." 
 
 Myrtale embraced Polycles, and said with her 
 brightest smile : 
 
 " So you, too, are a benefactor ! Have you not 
 saved the city's deliverer from becoming a slave in a 
 strange place ?" 
 
 A few days after Lycon, attended by Conops, made 
 an excursion to the neighboring city of Ormenium, the 
 place where he had been a slave before he fled to Po-
 
 310 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 seidon's altar in Methone. In Ormenium he visited his 
 former master, a physician, and remained a long time 
 with him. On his departure the physician accom- 
 panied him part of the way to Methone and, as 
 they took leave of each other, he asked Lycon if he 
 was serious in the request he had made him. When 
 Lycon answered in the attinnative, the doctor laughed 
 and shook his head as though it was very extraor- 
 dinary. " Take it then," he said, handing him some- 
 thing wrapped in cloth, which Lycon carefully con- 
 cealed in the folds of his robe. 
 
 After having been elected a citizen of Methone, 
 Lycon had gone to live in the house in the Street of 
 the Bakers. Much of the furniture had been ruined by 
 the flood so, with the help of Myrtale's nurse, he was 
 obliged to provide the women's apartment with many 
 things ere a bride could be received and a new house- 
 hold established. 
 
 One day, early in the morning, the old mansion 
 was adorned with garlands and the door, especially, 
 was decked and surrounded with ropes of flowers deco- 
 rated with tassels of blossoms. Polycles' house, the 
 bride's present home, was ornamented in the same 
 way. 
 
 Darkness had scarcely closed in, when the roll of 
 wheels and the hum of many voices were heard out- 
 side of the door of the latter dwelling. Accompanied 
 by a numerous train, a chariot drawn by white mules 
 stopped before the door, ready to bear the bride home. 
 Lycon and his chosen bridesman, Polycles, entered the
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 3II 
 
 house and received from the hand of an elderly female 
 relative the closely-veiled bride to conduct hereto the 
 chariot, where each took a seat beside the muffled 
 figure. 
 
 The nuptial torches were lighted, and the proces- 
 sion started. The flames cast their red glare over the 
 magnificent holiday robes ; the flutes sounded, and the 
 hymeneal hymns echoed far through the stillness of the 
 evening. 
 
 The inhabitants had all gathered outside the doors 
 of their houses, and within the dusky vestibules ap- 
 peared the heads of male and female slaves. All who 
 were passing stopped and greeted the procession with 
 the words : " Happiness and prosperity !" 
 
 " How peaceful and beautiful it is here," whispered 
 Lycon to his bride. " In Athens, on the contrary, on 
 such an evening there is more noise and bustle than 
 usual. Every bridal procession is surrounded by beg- 
 gars, carrying tame crows in their hands." 
 
 " Crows ?" repeated Myrtale in surprise. 
 
 " It is really so," replied Lycon, smiling. " Among 
 the Athenians the crow is the bird sacred to bridals, 
 and when a beggar carries one in his hand no one can 
 forbid him to follow the procession into the house, to 
 sing the ancient vulgar crow-song and then make him- 
 self at home." 
 
 On reaching home the wedded pair, according to 
 custom, were overwhelmed with a shower of little 
 cakes, figs, dried grapes, and small coins — emblemati- 
 cal of the prosperity to be expected.
 
 312 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 The festal hall was hghted by tripods bearing nu- 
 merous lamps ; on one side stood tables for the men, 
 on the other for the women. Among the guests were 
 the old chief magistrate who had presided at the popu- 
 lar assembly, the citizens who had been on the most 
 intimate terms with Simonides, and some of the female 
 relatives of the bride. Young slaves in new garments, 
 with purple fillets around their hair, placed between 
 the couches little tables bearing favorite dishes. 
 
 When the wedding cakes were eaten it was nearly 
 midnight. The oldest female relative now led the 
 young couple across the peristyle to the quiet sleeping 
 room. All the guests followed, and the nuptial hymn 
 was sung once more oatside of the closed door. But 
 when the last visitor had gone and the porter closed 
 the heavy house-door with a noise that echoed through 
 the peristyle, Lycon clasped Myrtale's hand, saying : 
 
 " That noise is dearer to me than the notes of the 
 nuptial hymn. Now we are alone ; now I have you 
 forever." 
 
 He drew her towards him and his lips sought hers, 
 but Myrtale, reared in the seclusion of the virgin-cham- 
 ber, had never been alone with any man, and blushing 
 deeply, averted her face. 
 
 Lycon took the clay lamp, shaped like a couch on 
 which lay a sleeping Eros, and pointing to the little 
 god, said : 
 
 " The love that fills my breast will never slumber 
 until my hair is white and my back bowed with age. 
 It would be an evil omen if I let this lamp burn on our
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 313 
 
 bridal night. Neither now nor in the future shall it 
 shine for us." 
 
 With these words, he flung it down so that it was 
 broken in the fall and lay shattered on the tiled floor. 
 
 In the intense darkness which had surrounded 
 them, he drew Myrtale to his breast. His heart 
 throbbed as it never had before, and the gloom 
 seemed filled with little dancing flames like those of the 
 broken lamp. With the perfume from Myrtale's hair, 
 he felt as if he were breathing an atmosphere of warm, 
 ardent youth, and in the silence which Eros commands 
 his mouth again sought the small, fresh lips. 
 
 This time Myrtale did not avert her face. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Time passes swiftly to the happy ; ere they realized 
 it a year had gone by. 
 
 One day every door in the house was adorned with 
 an olive garland — a son had been born to its owner. 
 Lycon said that the child should be reared. The 
 father was at liberty to expose or even kill it. 
 
 The infant was carried by the midwife around the 
 blazing household altar. Parents, relatives, and even 
 slaves gave it a multitude of presents, principally pla- 
 tagai, children's rattles.
 
 314 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 At the great sacrificial banquet on the tenth day 
 after the boy's birth, Lycon, to Myrtale's dehght, named 
 the child Simonides. 
 
 Lycon took pride in enlarging his dead master's 
 business, but never commenced any great enterprise 
 without having consulted the clever and experienced 
 Polycles. On the day that the latter completed his 
 sixtieth year, Lycon, to his great joy, gave him the 
 vineyard which, in his opinion, produced the best wine 
 in Thessaly. 
 
 This present had cost Lycon more than Polycles 
 ever knew. When he first spoke of it to Myrtale, she 
 eagerly opposed the plan and made many objections. 
 
 " Polycles is rich enough," she said. 
 
 " But not too rich to have this gift please him." 
 
 " It is a man's duty to bequeath what he possesses 
 to his children." 
 
 " It is also a man's duty to show his gratitude to 
 one who has done him many kindnesses and helped 
 make him prosperous." 
 
 " So you will give Polycles the vineyard ?" 
 
 " I shall." 
 
 " Even against my wish ?" 
 
 " You forget, dear one, that but for Polycles I 
 should have had nothing." 
 
 The blood rushed into Myrtale's cheeks and her 
 eyes flashed. 
 
 " And you forget," she said, " that everything you 
 possess is mine."
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 315 
 
 The words had scarcely escaped her Hps ere she 
 regretted them. 
 
 Lycon passed his huge hand over his face, rose, 
 and left her. 
 
 Myrtale stole after him. She saw him cross the 
 peristyle and enter a little room where part of the fur- 
 niture was kept. Through the door, which stood ajar, 
 she watched him open a box and take out something 
 wrapped in cloth. But, as she cautiously pushed the 
 door in order to see better, her shadow fell on Lycon's 
 arm and he turned. 
 
 " What have you there ?" asked Myrtale, slightly 
 confused at being discovered. 
 
 " What is mine — it belongs to no one else." 
 
 Myrtale understood the reproof. Her eyes filled 
 with tears as she sank at Lycon's feet and clasped his 
 knees. 
 
 " Forgive me," she whispered humbly, " forget my 
 wicked words." 
 
 " Forget them — I cannot. But I will treat you as 
 if you had never uttered them." 
 
 Myrtale still remained on her knees; Lycon raised 
 her and she pressed her lips upon his shoulder. 
 
 " What have you there ?" she timidly repeated. 
 
 " A peacemaker. 'Ihe image of a good sjMrit." 
 
 " Let me see it." 
 
 " No," replied T.ycon, wra])ping the cloth closer. 
 " If any one else should look at the image it would 
 lose its power. So promise me that you will never, — 
 either now or in future — ask to see it."
 
 3l6 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 Myrtale pointed to an ivory couch which stood in 
 the httle room ; Lycon reclined upon it, and she took 
 her seat on the edge at his side. 
 
 " What harm would it do if I, your wife, should see 
 it ?" she whispered coaxingly, putting her arm around 
 Lycon's neck. 
 
 " I have told you," replied Lycon. " Do what I 
 ask." 
 
 " Well then," murmured Myrtale sighing, " I prom- 
 ise." 
 
 But at the same moment she turned pale, as if she 
 felt a sudden chill. 
 
 " Confess !" she cried in a strangely altered tone. 
 " It is the picture of an Athenian woman." 
 
 Lycon shrank from the fierce expression of her face 
 and, ere he could prevent it, she had seized the little 
 article which he had laid on the edge of the couch in 
 front of her. 
 
 She tore off the cloth with her teeth. A clumsy 
 square bit of iron appeared. She turned and twisted it 
 in her hands until, on one end, she discovered the 
 letter K formed of three raised lines. 
 
 It was the stamp of the brand Lycon bore on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 Myrtale instantly understood why he kept the 
 rough bit of iron. To him, as he had said, it was the 
 image of a good spirit. 
 
 By keeping this sign of his humiliation, he not only 
 crushed all arrogance, but learned to judge mildly, 
 govern himself, and become a better man. By re-
 
 LYCON WITH THE BIG HAND. 317 
 
 membering that he had been a slave, he made others 
 forget it. 
 
 Myrtale felt a new emotion. Her heart swelled 
 with affection, and throwing herself into her husband's 
 arms, she covered his face with tears and kisses. 
 
 " The gods be praised for what has happened !" she 
 exclaimed. " To-day you have become doubly dear 
 to me ! For the first time I know you wholly." 
 
 Lycon and Myrtale filled the place of children to 
 the lonely Polycles, and he was never happier than 
 when they visited him in the quiet evening hours. 
 
 The hillock in the garden, which had been Simon- 
 ides' favorite spot and where his monument stood, was 
 the goal of their walks, and when they had offered 
 their homage to the dead man by adorning his grave 
 with flowers, they sat down on a bench among a group 
 of tall plane-trees to gaze over the city and country. 
 
 One evening, when the distant, sun-illumined moun- 
 tains of Pherae were gleaming more brightly than ever 
 through the twilight, Lycon exclaimed : 
 
 " Simonides was right ! Where is there a spot 
 more beautiful than this ?" 
 
 Myrtale looked him in the face and suddenly 
 asked : 
 
 " Do you never wish yourself back in Athens ?" 
 
 Polycles raised his eyebrows. In his opinion this 
 was evidently a very difficult question. But Lycon
 
 3^8 
 
 PICTURES OF HELLAS. 
 
 found the answer easy. Clasping Myrtale's hand, he 
 said : 
 
 " How can you ask ? In Athens I was gay ; here 
 I am happy." 
 
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