Chapter 6

[1]It would seem that Chariclea stood with her palm and torch at the end of the course the contenders were to take.

[2]Iliad, B. xxi.

[3]Il. xiii. 636."All pleasures breed satiety, sweet sleep,Soft dalliance, music, and the grateful dance."—Cowper.

[3]Il. xiii. 636.

"All pleasures breed satiety, sweet sleep,Soft dalliance, music, and the grateful dance."—Cowper.

[4]——"Honoratum si forte reponis Achillem,Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer,Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis."—Hor. A. P. 121.

[4]

——"Honoratum si forte reponis Achillem,Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer,Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis."—Hor. A. P. 121.

[5]Il. xvi. 21.

[6]Γράμμασιν Αἰθιοπικoῖς oὐ δημοτικoῖς 'αλλά Βασιλικοῖς. "This distinction," observes a reviewer, "between the royal and popular system of hieroglyphics, as well as the etiquette of inscribing the title of the king within a circle or oval, is borrowed from the monuments of Egypt."

[7]Tasso, c. xii. 21-40, as is well known, has introduced the story of Chariclea under the name of Clorinda:—"D'una pietosa istoria e di devoteFigure la sua stanza era dipinta,Vergine bianca il bel volto, e le goteVermiglia, è quivi presso un drago avvinta.. . . . . .Ingravida frattanto, ed espon fuori(E tu fosti colei) candida figlia."

[7]Tasso, c. xii. 21-40, as is well known, has introduced the story of Chariclea under the name of Clorinda:—

"D'una pietosa istoria e di devoteFigure la sua stanza era dipinta,Vergine bianca il bel volto, e le goteVermiglia, è quivi presso un drago avvinta.. . . . . .Ingravida frattanto, ed espon fuori(E tu fosti colei) candida figlia."

[8]The effect of Jacob's rods will suggest itself to the recollection of the reader. Gen. xxx. 37-41.

[9]Δίθψ παντάρβη την σφενδόνην καθιέρωμενον.

[10]"His hands are tiny, but afar they throw,E'en down to Dis and Acheron below.. . . . . .Small is his bow, his arrow small to sight,But to Jove's court it wings its ready flight."Chapman's Trs. of Moschus.

[10]

"His hands are tiny, but afar they throw,E'en down to Dis and Acheron below.. . . . . .Small is his bow, his arrow small to sight,But to Jove's court it wings its ready flight."Chapman's Trs. of Moschus.

[11]ἲυγγα. Properly the bird called the "wryneck." It was sacred to Venus, and much used in love incantations, especially to recall the alienated affections of a beloved object. It was employed fastened to a wheel, by turning which, the effect was supposed to be produced. It also means the magical wheel itself.—Hickie's Theocritus, see Theoc. Idyll. 11.

[12]Mr. Hobhouse's description of the dance of the Albanians affords an illustration of the above. "They danced round the blaze to their own songs with astonishing energy—one of them which detained them more than an hour, had for the burden—'Robbers all at Parga! Robbers all at Parga!' and as they roared out this stave, they whirled round the fire, dropped and rebounded from their knees, and again whirled round as the chorus was again repeated."—Notes to Childe Harold, c. xi. 71.

[13]——Hic, hic ponite lucidaFunalia, et vectes et arcusOppositis foribus minaces.—Hor. Od. iii. xxvi. 6.

[13]

——Hic, hic ponite lucidaFunalia, et vectes et arcusOppositis foribus minaces.—Hor. Od. iii. xxvi. 6.

[14]"I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow,By his best arrow with the golden head,By the simplicity of Venus' doves,By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,By all the vows that ever men have broke,In number more than ever woman spoke."Midsummer Night's Dream.

[14]

"I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow,By his best arrow with the golden head,By the simplicity of Venus' doves,By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,By all the vows that ever men have broke,In number more than ever woman spoke."Midsummer Night's Dream.

[15]Charicles does not farther explain the nature of his offence but the ancient thought that even an accidental, involuntary intrusion into any ceremonies or mysteries at which it was not lawful for the intruder to be present, was always followed by some punishment. Quartilla in Petronius says, "Neque enim quisquam impunè quod non licuit aspexit.""Inscia quod crimen viderunt lumina, plector,Peccatumque oculos est habuisse, meum!"—Ovid.

"Inscia quod crimen viderunt lumina, plector,Peccatumque oculos est habuisse, meum!"—Ovid.

[16]See the fine Chorus in the Œdipus Coloneus,—the subject being the pursuit after the daughters of Œdipus, carried off by Creon, 1045-1100.

"How the city of Delphos succeeded in their pursuit, I had no opportunity of learning; their being thus engaged, however, gave me an excellent opportunity for the flight which I meditated. Taking, therefore, my young companions, I led them down to the sea, and put them aboard the Phœnician vessel, which was just ready to set sail, for day now beginning to break, the merchants thought they had kept the promise they had made, of waiting for me a day and a night. Seeing us however appear, they received us with great joy, and immediately proceeded out of the harbour, at first using their oars, then a moderate breeze rising from the land, and a gentle swell of the sea[1]caressing as it were the stern of our ship, they hoisted sail, and committed the vessel to the wind.

"We passed with rapidity the Cirrhæan gulf, the promontory of Parnassus, the Ætolian and Calydonian rocks, and the Oxian isles,sharp[2]both in name and figure, and the sea of Zacynthus began to appear as the sun sank towards the west. But why am I thus tedious? Why do I forget you and myself, and, by extending my narration, embark you upon a boundless ocean? Let us stop here a while, and both of us take a little rest; for though I know you are a very patient hearer, and strive excellently against sleep, yet I have prosecuted the account of my troubles to so unseasonable an hour, that I think you at last begin to give in. My age, too, and the remembrance of my sufferings, weigh down my spirits, and require repose."

"Stop then, Father," replied Cnemon, "not on my account, for I could attend untired to your story many days and nights; it is to me as the siren's strains; but I have for some time heard a tumult and noise in the house; I was rather alarmed at it, but my great desire to hear the remainder of your discourse prevented me from interrupting you."

"I was not sensible of it," said Calasiris, "owing, I suppose, partly to the dulness of my hearing, the common malady of age, and partly to my being intent on what I was saying. But I fancy the stir you hear is occasioned by the return of Nausicles, the master of the house; I am impatient to know how he has succeeded."—"In every thing as I could wish, my dear Calasiris," said Nausicles, who entered at that moment. "I know how solicitous you were for my success, and how your best wishes accompanied me. I have many proofs of your good will towards me, and among others the words which I have just heard you uttering. But who is this stranger?"—"A Greek," said Calasiris; "what farther regards him you shall hear another time; but pray relate to us your success, that we may be partakers in your joy." "You shall hear all in the morning," replied Nausicles: "at present let it suffice you to know, that I have obtained a fairer Thisbe than ever; for myself, wearied with cares and fatigues, I must now take a little repose." Having said this, he retired to rest.

Cnemon was struct at hearing the name of Thisbe; racking his mind with anxiety, he passed a sleepless night, nor could he at intervals restrain his sighs and groans, which at last awakened Calasiris, who lay near, from a sound sleep. The old man, raising himself upon his elbow, asked him what was the matter with him, and why he vented his complaints in that almost frantic manner. "Is it not enough to drive me mad," replied Cnemon, "when I hear that Thisbe is alive?"—"And who is this Thisbe?" said Calasiris, "and how came you acquainted with her? and why are you disturbed at supposing her to be alive?"—"You shall hear at large," returned the other, "when I relate to you my story; at present I will only tell you that I saw her dead with these eyes, and buried her with my own hands among the buccaneers." "Take some rest now," said the old man; "this mystery will soon be cleared up."—"I cannot sleep," he said; "do you repose yourself if you will; I shall die if I do not find out, and that immediately, under what mistake Nausicles is labouring; or whether among the Egyptians alone the dead come to life again." Calasiris smiled at his impatience, and betook himself again to sleep.

But Cnemon arose, and, going out of his chamber, encountered all those difficulties which it was probable a stranger would meet with, who wanders at night, and in the dark, in an unknown house; but he struggled with them all, such was his horror of Thisbe, and his anxiety to clear away the apprehensions which were raised in his mind by what fell from Nausicles. After passing and repassing many times, without knowing it, the same passages, at last he heard the soft voice of a woman lamenting, like a vernal nightingale pouring out her melancholy notes at eventide.[3]Led by the sound, he advanced towards the apartment; and putting his ear to the division of the folding doors, he listened, and heard her thus lamenting:—

"What an unhappy fate is mine! I thought I had escaped from the hands of the robbers, and avoided a cruel death. I flattered myself that I should pass the remainder of my life with my beloved; wandering indeed, and in foreign lands, but with him it would have been sweet; and every difficulty would have been supportable. But my evil genius is not yet satisfied; he gave me a glance of hope, and has plunged me afresh in despair. I hoped I had escaped servitude, and am again a slave; a prison, and am still confined. I was kept in an island, and surrounded with darkness; my situation is not now very different, indeed, perhaps rather worse, for he who was able and willing to console me is separated from me. The Pirates' cave which I yesterday inhabited, seemed indeed an avenue to the shades below; more like a charnel house than a dwelling; but his presence in whom I delighted made it pleasant; for he lamented my fate living, and shed tears over me when he thought me dead. Now I am deprived of every comfort; he who partook of and lessened the burden of my misfortunes is ravished from me; and I, deserted and a captive, am exposed alone to the assaults of cruel fortune; and endure to live only because I have a glimmering of hope that my beloved still survives. But where, Ο delight of my soul, are you? What fate has awaited you? Are you also forced to be a slave—you, whose spirit is so free, and impatient of all slavery except that of love? Oh, may your life be safe, at least; and may you, though late, see again your Thisbe! for so, however unwilling, you must call me."

When Cnemon heard this, he could no longer restrain himself, or have patience to listen to what was to follow; but guessing from what he had already heard, and particularly from what was last uttered, that the complainer could be no other than Thisbe, he was ready to fall into a swoon at the very doors; he composed himself, however, as well as he was able, and fearing lest he should be discovered by any one (for morning now approached, and the cock had twice crowed), he hurried back with a tottering pace.

Now his foot stumbled; now he fell against the wall, and now against the lintels of the door; sometimes he struck his head against utensils hanging from the ceiling; at last, with much difficulty, and after many wanderings, he reached his own apartment, and threw himself upon the bed. His body trembled, and his teeth chattered, and it might have become a very serious matter had not Calasiris, alarmed at the disorder in which he returned, come to his assistance, and soothed and comforted him. When he came a little to himself, he inquired into the cause of it.

"I am undone," exclaimed Cnemon; "that wretch Thisbe is really alive;" and having said this, he sank down again and fainted away.

Calasiris having with much ado recovered him, attempted to cheer his mind. Some envious demon, who makes human affairs his sport, was no doubt practising his illusions upon Cnemon, not suffering him to enjoy his good fortune unalloyed with trouble; but making that which was afterwards to be the cause of his greatest pleasure wear at first the appearance of calamity: either because such is the perverse disposition of those beings, or because human nature cannot admit pure and unmixed joy. Cnemon, at this very time, was flying from her whom he above all things desired to meet, and frightened at that which would have been to him the most pleasing of sights; for the lady who was thus lamenting was not Thisbe but Chariclea. The train of accidents which brought her into the house of Nausicles was as follows:—

After Thyamis was taken prisoner, the island set on fire, and its pirate inhabitants expelled, Thermuthis, his lieutenant, and Cnemon crossed over the lake in the morning to make inquiries after Thyamis. What happened on their expedition, has been before related. Theagenes and Chariclea were left alone in the cave, and esteemed what was to prove only an excess of calamity, a great present blessing; since now for the first time, being left alone, and freed from every intruding eye, they indulged themselves in unrestrained embraces and endearments; and forgetting all the world, and clinging together as though forming but one body, they enjoyed the first fruits of pure and virgin love; warm tears were mingled with their chaste kisses; chaste I say, for if at any time human nature was about to prevail on Theagenes he was checked by Chariclea, and put in mind of his oath; nor was it difficult to bring him back within due bounds, for though not proof against pure love, he was superior to mere sensual desire. But when at length they called to mind that this was a time for consultation they ceased their dalliance, and Theagenes began as follows:—

"That we may spend our lives together, my dearest Chariclea, and obtain at last that union which we prefer to every earthly blessing, and for the sake of which we have undergone so much, is my fervent prayer, and may the gods of Greece grant it! But since every thing human is fluctuating, and subject to change, since we have suffered much, and have yet much to hope, as we have appointed to meet Cnemon at Chemmis, and are uncertain what fortunes may await us there, and, in fine, as the country to which all our wishes tend is at a great distance, let us agree upon some token by which we may secretly hold communication when present; and, if at any time separated, may trace out each other in absence; for a token between friends is an excellent companion in a wanderer's journey, and may often be the means of again bringing them together."

Chariclea was pleased with the proposal; and they agreed, if they were divided, to write upon any temple, noted statue, bust of Mercury,[4]or boundary-stone, Theagenes the word Pythicus, and Chariclea Pythias; whether they were gone to the right or the left; to what city, town, or people; and the day and hour of their writing. If they met in any circumstances, or under any disguise, they depended upon their mutual affection to discover one another, which they were certain no time could efface, or even lessen. Chariclea, however, showed him the ring which had been exposed with her, and Theagenes exhibited a scar made upon his knee by a wild boar. They agreed on a watch-word: she,lampas(a lamp), he,phoinix(a palm-tree). Having made these arrangements, they again embraced each other, and again wept, pouring out their tears as libations, and using kisses as oaths.

At last they went out of the cave, touching none of the treasures it contained, thinking riches obtained by plunder an abomination. They selected, however, some of the richest jewels which they themselves had brought from Delphi, and which the pirates had taken from them, and prepared for their journey. Chariclea changed her dress, packing up in a bundle her necklace, her crown, and sacred garments; and, the better to conceal them, put over them things of less value. She gave the bow and quiver (the emblems of the god under whom he served) to Theagenes to bear: to him a pleasant burden.

They now approached the lake, and were preparing to get into a boat, when they saw a company of armed men passing over toward the island. Rendered dizzy by the sight, they stood for some time astounded, as if deprived of all feeling by the continued assaults of unwearied evil fortune. At last, however, and just as the men were landing, Chariclea proposed to retire again into the cave, and endeavour to conceal themselves there; and was running towards it, when Theagenes stopped her, and exclaimed, "Why should we vainly endeavour to fly from that fate which pursues us every where? Let us yield to our fortune, and meet it with fortitude: what besides should we gain but unending troubles, a wandering life, and still renewed assaults of the evil genius who mocks and persecutes us? Have you not experienced how he has added, with savage eagerness, the assaults of pirates to exile, and worse perils by land to those we suffered by sea; how he terrified us first with fightings, afterwards threw us into the hands of buccaneers, detained us some time in captivity, then left us solitary and deserted, just gave us a prospect of flight and freedom, and now sends ruffians to destroy us; plays off his warfare against us and our fortunes, and gives them the appearance of a continually shifting scene, and sadly varied drama? Let us put an end then to the tragedy, and give ourselves up to those who are prepared for our destruction, lest the continued pressure and increase of our misfortunes oblige us, at last, to lay violent hands upon ourselves."

Chariclea did not entirely agree with all which her lover in his passion said. She admitted the justice of his expostulations with fortune, but could not see the propriety of giving themselves up into the hands of the armed men. It was not certain that they meant to destroy them; the evil genius who pursued them would not, perhaps, be kind enough to put so quick an end to their miseries; he probably reserved them to experience the hardships of servitude; and was it not worse than death to be exposed to the insults and indignities of the barbarians? "Let us endeavour, therefore," said she, "by all means in our power to avoid this fate. We may, from past experience, have some hopes of success: we have frequently, already, escaped from dangers which appeared inevitable."

"Let us do as you please," said Theagenes; and followed her, unwillingly, as she led the way. They could not, however, escape in safety to the cave; for while they were looking only at the enemy in front, they were not aware of another troop which had landed on a different part of the island, and which was taking them from behind, as in a net.[5]They were now utterly confounded, and stood still, Chariclea keeping close by Theagenes, so that if they were to die they might die together. Some of the men who approached were just preparing to strike; but when the youthful pair, looking up, flashed upon them the full splendour of their beauty, their hearts failed them, and their hands grew slack; for the arm even of a barbarian reverences the beautiful, and the fiercest eye grows milder before a lovely countenance. They took them prisoners, therefore, and conducted them to their leader, anxious to lay before him the first and fairest of the spoils. It was the only booty, however, which they were likely to obtain, for they could find nothing else, after the strictest search throughout the island. Everything on the surface of it had been destroyed by the late conflagration. They were ignorant of the cave and its contents. They proceeded then towards their commander: he was Mithranes, commandant to Oroondates, viceroy of Egypt, under the Great King, whom Nausicles (as has been said) had induced, by a great sum of money, to make this expedition into the island in search of Thisbe. Upon the approach of Theagenes and Chariclea, Nausicles, with the quick-sighted craft of a merchant, started forward, and running up, exclaimed, "This is indeed Thisbe, the very Thisbe ravished from me by those villain pirates, but restored by your kindness, Mithranes, and by the gods." He then caught hold of Chariclea, and seemed in an ecstacy of joy; at the same time he spoke to her privately in Greek, in a low voice, and bid her, if she valued her life, pretend that her name was Thisbe.

This scheme succeeded. Chariclea, pleased at hearing her native language, and flattering herself with the hopes of comfort and assistance from the man who spoke it, did as he bid her; and when Mithranes asked her her name, said it was Thisbe. Nausicles then ran up to Mithranes, kissed his head, flattered the barbarian's vanity, extolled his good fortune, and congratulated him that, besides his many other exploits, this expedition had had such good success. He, cajoled by these praises, and really believing the truth of what was said (being deceived by the name), though smitten with the beauty of the maiden, which shone out under a sorry garb, like the moon[6]from beneath a cloud; yet, confounded by the quickness of Nausicles's manœuvres, and having no time given to his fickle mind for change of purpose, said, "Take, then, this maiden, whom my arms have recovered for you;" and so saying, he delivered her into his hands, unwillingly and frequently looking back upon her, as if he would not have parted with her had he not thought himself pledged, by the reward he had received, to give her up. "But as for her companion," he added, pointing to Theagenes, "he shall be my prize. Let him follow me under a guard; he shall be sent to Babylon: with such a figure as his, he will become the service of the great king." And having thus signified his pleasure, they passed over the lake, and were separated from each other. Nausicles took the road to Chemmis, with Chariclea; Mithranes visited some other towns which were under his command, and very soon sent Theagenes to Oroondates, who was then at Memphis, accompanied with the following letter:—

"Mithranes, Commandant, to the Viceroy Oroondates."I have taken prisoner a Grecian youth of too noble an appearance to continue in my service, and worthy to appear before, and serve only, the Great King. I send him to you, that you may offer him to our common master, as a great and inestimable present, such a one as the royal court has never yet beheld, and probably never will again."

"Mithranes, Commandant, to the Viceroy Oroondates.

"I have taken prisoner a Grecian youth of too noble an appearance to continue in my service, and worthy to appear before, and serve only, the Great King. I send him to you, that you may offer him to our common master, as a great and inestimable present, such a one as the royal court has never yet beheld, and probably never will again."

Scarcely had the day dawned when eager curiosity carried Calasiris and Cnemon to the apartment of Nausicles, to inquire farther into his adventures. He told them all that I have related: how he arrived at the island; how he found it deserted; the deceit he had put upon Mithranes, in passing off another maiden upon him for Thisbe; he was better pleased, he said, with his present prize than if he had really found Thisbe; there was no more comparison between their several beauties than between a mortal and a goddess; hers was unrivalled, it was impossible for him to express how beautiful she was; but, as she was under his roof, they might satisfy themselves with their own eyes. When they heard this, they began to suspect a little of the truth, and besought him to send for her immediately, as knowing that words could not do justice to her personal appearance.

When she was introduced (with downcast eyes, and her face veiled to her forehead), and Nausicles had besought her to be of good cheer, she looked up a little, and saw (beyond her hopes), and was seen by, her unexpected friends. Immediately a sudden cry was heard from all. These exclamations burst out at once, "My father!"—"My daughter! Chariclea herself! and not Cnemon's Thisbe." Nausicles stood mute with astonishment when he saw Calasiris embracing Chariclea, and weeping for joy. He wondered what this could be which had the air of a recognition on the stage, when Calasiris ran to him, and embracing him, cried out, "Ο best of men, may the gods shower on you every blessing you desire, as you have been the preserver of my daughter, and have restored to my longing eyes the delight of my life. But, my child, my Chariclea! where have you left Theagenes?" She wept at the question, and, pausing a little, said, "He who delivered me to this gentleman, whoever he may be, has led him away captive." Calasiris besought Nausicles to discover to him all he knew about Theagenes; under whose power he now was; and whither they had taken him.

The merchant gave him all the information he was able, conceiving this to be the pair about whom he had frequently heard the old man speak, and whom he knew he was seeking in sorrow. He added, that he feared his intelligence would not be of much service to persons in their humble circumstances; he doubted, indeed, whether any sum of money would induce Mithranes to part with the youth. "We are rich enough," said Chariclea softly to Calasiris; "promise him as much as you please; I have preserved the necklace which you know of, and have it with me." Calasiris recovered his spirits at hearing this; but not choosing to let Nausicles into the secret of their wealth, replied, "My good Nausicles, the wise man is never poor; he measures his desires by his possessions, and receives from those who abound what it is honourable for him to ask. Tell us then where the person is who has Theagenes in his power; the divine goodness will not be wanting to us, but will supply us with as much as is sufficient to satisfy the avarice of this Persian."

Nausicles smiled incredulously. "I shall," said he, "be persuaded that you can suddenly grow rich, as by a miracle, when you have first paid down to me a ransom for this maiden; you know that riches have as many charms for a merchant as for a Persian."—"I know it," replied the old man, "and you shall have a ransom. But why do you not anticipate my wishes, and, with your customary benevolence, offer, of your own accord, to restore my daughter? Must I be forced to entreat it of you?"—"You shall have her on proper terms," said the merchant. "I do not grudge you her; but now (as I am going to sacrifice) let us join in supplication to the gods, and pray that they would increase my wealth, and bestow some on you."—"Spare your ridicule," replied Calasiris, "and be not incredulous; make preparations for the sacrifice, and we will attend you when everything is ready."

Nausicles agreed to this, and soon after sent a message to his guests to desire their presence. They obeyed cheerfully, having before concerted what they were to do. The men accompanied Nausicles to the altar, with many others who were invited, for it was a public sacrifice. Chariclea went with the merchant's daughter and some other females, whose encouragements and entreaties had prevailed upon her to be present at the ceremony; and they would hardly have persuaded her had she not secretly pleased herself with the thought of taking this opportunity to pour out her vows and prayers for Theagenes.

They came to the temple of Mercury (for him, as the god of gain and merchants, Nausicles particularly worshipped); and when the sacred rites were performed, Calasiris inspected the entrails of a victim, and changing his countenance according as they portended joyful or adverse events, at last stretched out his hand, (murmuring certain words) and pretending to take something from among the ashes, presented a ring of great value to Nausicles, which he had brought with him for that purpose: "And here," said he, "the gods, by my hands, offer you this as a ransom for Chariclea."

The ring[7]was a perfect marvel, both for material and workmanship. The circle was of electrum, within the bezil[8]was an Ethiopian amethyst, of the size of a maiden's eye, finer much than those of Spain or Britain; for these latter have a dullish tinge of purple, like a rose just bursting from its bud, and beginning to redden under the sun's beams; whereas the Ethiopian amethyst shines with a deeper and more sparkling lustre; if you turn it about it scatters its rays on all sides, not dulling but lighting up the sight.

They are besides of much greater virtue than the western ones; they do not belie their name,[9]but will really keep those who wear them sober amid great excesses. This property is common to all the Indian and Ethiopian stones: but that which Calasiris now gave Nausicles far surpassed them. It was carved with wonderful art, and represented a shepherd tending his sheep. He sat upon a rock, gently elevated from the ground, surveying his flock, and distributing them[10]into different pastures by the various notes of his pipe; they seemed to obey, and to feed as the sound directed them. You would say that they had golden fleeces, the natural blush of the amethyst, without the aid of art, casting a glow upon their backs. Here you might observe the frolics of the little lambs; some climbing up the ascent, others gambolling around the shepherd, converted the rock into a pastoral theatre. Some wantoning in the flame of the gem as in the sun, just touched in bounding the rocky surface; others, older and more bold, seemed as if they would overleap the circle; but here art had hindered them, and surrounded the jewel in the rock with the golden bezil. The rock was not counterfeit, but real; the artist, to represent it, had inclosed the edges of the stone, and was not put to the trouble of feigning what in reality existed. Such then was the ring.

Nausicles was struck at the seeming miracle, and delighted with the beauty of the gem, which he esteemed to be of more value than all he was worth.—"I was but jesting," said he, "my dear Calasiris, when I talked of a ransom for your daughter; my design was to restore her to you freely; and without price; but since, as they say, the gifts of the gods are not to be refused, I accept this jewel which is sent from heaven; persuaded that it is a present from Mercury, the best of deities, who has furnished you with it through the fire, and indeed you see how it sparkles itself with flames: besides, I think that the pleasantest and most lawful gain is that which, without impoverishing the giver, enriches the receiver."

Having said this, he took the ring, and proceeded with the rest of the company to an entertainment; the women by themselves, in the interior of the temple; the men in the vestibule. When they had satisfied their appetite, and the board was crowned with cups, they sang a suitable[11]hymn to Bacchus, and poured out libations to him; the women sang a hymn of thanksgiving to Ceres. Chariclea, retiring from the rest, occupied with her own thoughts, prayed for the health and safe return of Theagenes.

And now, the company being warmed with wine, and rife with mirth, Nausicles, holding out a goblet of pure water, said, "Good Calasiris, let us offer this to the nymphs, the sober nymphs your deities, who have no sympathy with Bacchus, and are nymphs in very deed; but if you will entertain us with such a relation as we wish to hear, it will be more pleasant to us than even our flowing bowls. You see the women have already risen from the table, and are amusing themselves with dancing; but neither dancing nor music will be so pleasant to us as the narrative of your wanderings, if you will favour us with it. You have often excused yourself from the task on account of the troubles with which you were overwhelmed, and the lowness of your spirits; but there cannot be a more proper time for it than the present, when everything contributes to remove the one and to raise the other. You have recovered your daughter, and have hopes of recovering your son; especially if you do not affront me, by deferring your story any longer."

"Now may all good attend you, Nausicles," said Cnemon, putting in his word; "who, although you have provided all manner of music for our recreation, are willing to forego such delights (leaving them to ordinary minds), and to listen to higher and mysterious matters, seasoned with a divine interest. You show judgment in coupling together the deities, Mercury and Bacchus, thus mingling the pleasures of discourse with those of wine. Though I admire the whole order of this splendid sacrifice, yet I know nothing which will render the god of eloquence more propitious, than if this good old man will contribute his narrative[12]to the rest of the entertainment."

Calasiris obeyed, as well to oblige Cnemon, as to conciliate the favour of Nausicles, whose[13]services he foresaw he should have occasion for, and entered upon his story. He began with what he had already related to Cnemon; he was now, however, less minute, and entirely passed over some matters which he did not choose Nausicles to know; and when he had proceeded to the point where he had before left off,[14]he went on as follows:

"As the wind was at first very favourable to us, the fugitives from Delphi began to flatter themselves with the hopes of a prosperous voyage; but when we got into the straits of Calydon,[15]the swell and rolling of the waves alarmed them not a little;" here Cnemon, interrupting, begged him to explain, if he could, the cause of that agitation. "The Ionian sea," continued Calasiris, "from being wide beyond, is there contracted, and pours itself, by a narrow channel, into the Crissæan gulf; whence, hastening to mingle its waters with the Ægean, it is stopped and thrown back again by the Isthmus of Peloponnesus; which is opposed, probably, as a rampart by divine providence, lest it should overflow the opposite land: and a greater reflux being occasioned in the strait than in the rest of the gulf, from the encounter of the advancing and retreating tides the waves, owing to this repercussion, boil, swell, and break in tumult one over the other." This explanation was received with the applause and approbation of all; and the old man continued his narration.

"Having passed the strait, and lost sight of the Oxian[16]Isles, we thought we discovered the promontory of Zacynthus, which rose on our sight like an obscure cloud, and the pilot gave orders to furl the sails. We inquired why he slackened the vessel's speed, when we had a prosperous wind: 'Because,' said he, 'if we continue to sail at the rate we do at present, we shall arrive off the island about the first watch of the night; and I fear lest, in the darkness, we may strike upon some of the rocks which abound under the sea on that coast: it is better therefore for us to keep out at sea all night, carrying only so much sail as may suffice to bring us under the island in the morning.' This was the opinion of the pilot: however we made land sooner than he expected, and cast anchor at Zacynthus just as the sun rose.

"The inhabitants of the port, which was not far distant from the city, flocked together at our arrival, as to an unusual spectacle. They admired the construction of our vessel, framed with regard both to size and beauty; and from thence formed an idea of the skill and industry of the Phœnicians. Still more did they wonder at our uncommon good fortune in having had so prosperous a passage, in the midst of winter, and at the setting of the Pleiades.

"Almost all the ship's company, while the vessel was being moored, hurried off to the city to buy what things they wanted. I strolled about in search of a lodging, somewhere on the shore, for the pilot had told me that we should probably winter at Zacynthus: to remain on board the ship would have been very inconvenient, because of the noisy crew, and our fugitives could not be so well concealed in the city as their situation required.

"When I had walked a little way, I saw an old fisherman sitting before his door, and mending his nets. I approached and addressed him—'Can you inform me, my good friend,' said I, 'where I can hire a lodging?'—'It was broken,' said he, 'near yonder promontory, having caught upon a rock.'—'This was not what I inquired,' said I; 'but you would do me a kind office if you will either receive me into your own house, or show me another where I may be taken in.'—'It was not I who did it, I warrant you,' said he; 'I was not in the boat; old age has not yet so dulled the faculties of Tyrrhenus. It was the fault of the lubberly boys which occasioned this mishap, who, from ignorance of the reefs, spread their nets in the wrong place.'

"Perceiving now that he was hard of hearing, I bawled out at the top of my voice, 'Good day to you! Can you show us, who are strangers, a place where we may find lodging?'—'The same to you,' answered he. 'You may, if you please, lodge with me; unless, perhaps, you are one of those who require a great many beds and chambers, and have a large number of servants with you.' Upon my saying: 'I have only two children with myself,'—'A very good number,' he replied, 'for you will find my family consist of only one more. I have two sons who live with me; their elder brothers are married and settled by themselves; I have, besides, the nurse of my children, for their mother has been some time dead; wherefore, good sir, do not hesitate, nor doubt that we shall receive gladly one whose first aspect is venerable and prepossessing.' I accepted his offer: and when I returned afterwards with Theagenes and Chariclea, the old fisherman received us with great cordiality, and assigned us the warmest and most convenient part of his habitation.

"The beginning of the winter passed here not unpleasantly. We lived together in the day time: at night we separated. Chariclea slept in one apartment, with the nurse, I in another, with Theagenes, and Tyrrhenus in a third, with his children. Our table was in common, and well supplied; the old man furnished it abundantly with provision from the sea. We frequently amused our leisure by assisting him in fishing, in which art he was very skilful, and had tackle for it in abundance, and suited for every season.[17]The coast was convenient for placing his nets, and abounded with fish, so that most people attributed his success in his occupation to his good fortune alone, which was in part, however, owing to his skill. Thus, for some time, we lived in peace; but it is not permitted to the unhappy to be long at ease; nor could the charms of Chariclea, even in this solitude, be exempt from disturbance.

"The Tyrian merchant, that victor in the Pythian games, with whom we sailed, was very annoying to me; he took every opportunity of pressing me with earnestness, as a father, to grant him Chariclea in marriage. He vaunted his family and his fortune. He said that the vessel in which we sailed was entirely his property; and the greatest part of her cargo, which consisted of gold, precious stones, and silk. He crowned all these, and many other recommendations of himself, with his victory in Greece, which he thought reflected no small lustre upon him. I objected my present poverty, and that I could never bring myself to dispose of my daughter in a foreign country, and at such a distance from Egypt. 'Talk not of poverty,' he would reply; 'I shall esteem the gift of Chariclea's hand more than a portion of a thousand talents. Wherever she is, I shall look upon that place as my country; I am ready to change my destined course to Carthage, and sail with you wherever you please.'

"When, after some time, I saw the Phœnician relax nothing of his importunity, but that he grew more urgent every day in his solicitations, I determined to flatter him with fallacious hopes, lest he should offer some violence to us in the island, and promised I would do everything which he wished when we arrived in Egypt. But I had no sooner thus quieted him a little, than a new wave of trouble came rolling in upon me.[18]

"Old Tyrrhenus accosted me one day as I was wandering in a retired part of the coast. 'My good Calasiris,' said he, 'Neptune is my witness, and all the gods, that I regard you as my brother, and your children as my own. I am come to discover to you a gathering danger which will occasion you great uneasiness, but which I cannot, with any regard to the laws of hospitality, conceal from one who lodges under my roof, and which it concerns you much to be acquainted with. A nest of pirates, concealed under the side of yonder promontory, are lying in wait for your Phœnician vessel. They are continually on the watch for your sailing out of port. I caution you, therefore, to beware, and to consider what you have to do; for it is on your account, or rather, as I suspect, on account of your daughter, that they have conceived this audacious design, which they are but too well prepared for.'

"'May the gods reward you,' said I, 'for your kind information; but, my dear Tyrrhenus, how did you obtain, your intelligence?'—'My trade,' he answered, 'makes me acquainted with these men; I take fish to them, for which they pay me a better price than others; and yesterday, as I was taking up my nets on the shore, Trachinus, the captain of the pirates, came and asked me if I knew when the Phœnicians intended to set sail. I, suspecting his intent, replied, that indeed I did not exactly know, but I supposed that it would be early in the spring. "Does the fair maiden, who lodges at your house, sail with them?"—"I really don't know," said I. "But why are you so curious?"—"Because I love her to distraction," he returned. "I did so at first sight. I never saw a form comparable to hers; and yet my eyes have been used to beauty, and I have had in my power some of the most charming captives of all nations."

"'I wished to draw him on a little, that I might get acquainted with his design. "Why," said I, "should you attack the Phœnicians; cannot you take her away from my house without bloodshed, and before they embark?"—"The regard I have for you," he returned, "prevents me from doing this. There is a sense of honour even among pirates towards friends and acquaintances. If I were to carry off the strangers from your house, it might bring you into some trouble; they would probably be required at your hands. Besides, by waiting for them at sea, I obtain two ends: I may make myself master of a rich vessel, as well as of the maid I love. One of these I must necessarily give up, if I make the attempt by land; neither would it be without danger so near the city: the inhabitants would soon become acquainted with my enterprize, and pursuit would be immediate." I praised his prudence, and left him. I now discover to you the design of these villains, and beseech you to adopt means for the preservation of yourself and your children.'

"Having heard this, I went away in great trouble, and revolving various thoughts in my mind, when I met, by accident, with my Tyrian merchant. He talked to me on the old subject, and gave me occasion to try him on a scheme which just then struck me. I related to him just as much of the fisherman's discovery as I thought proper. I told him that one of the inhabitants of Zacynthus, who was too powerful for him to resist, had a design to carry off Chariclea. 'For my part,' I added, 'I had much rather give her to you, as well on account of our acquaintance as of your opulent condition; and, above all, because you have promised to settle in our country after your marriage; if, therefore, you have this alliance much at heart, we must sail from hence in all haste, before we are prevented, and violence is offered.' He was much pleased at hearing me talk in this manner. 'You are much in the right, my father,' he said; and, approaching, kissed my head, and asked me when I would have him to set sail, for though the sea was at this season hardly navigable, yet we might make some other port, and so, escaping from the snares laid for us here, might wait with patience the approach of spring.—'If,' I replied, 'my wishes have weight with you, I would sail this very night.'—'Be it so,' said he, and went away.

"I returned home. I said nothing to Tyrrhenus; but I told my children that, at the close of the day, they must embark again on board the vessel. They wondered at this sudden order, and asked the reason of it. I excused myself from explaining it then; but said, it was absolutely necessary that it should be obeyed.

"After a moderate supper I retired to rest; but I had no sooner fallen asleep, than an old man[19]seemed to appear to me, in a dream: withered and lean, in other respects, but showing, from the muscular appearance of his knees, the marks of former strength. He had a helmet on his head; his countenance was intelligent and shrewd, and he seemed to drag one thigh after him, as if it had been wounded. He approached me, and said with a sarcastic smile,—'Do you alone treat me with contempt? All those who have sailed by Cephalene, have been desirous to visit my habitation, and to contemplate my glory; you only seem to despise me, and have not given me so much as a common salutation, though you dwell in my neighbourhood. But you shall soon suffer for this negligence; and shall experience the same calamities, and encounter the same enemies, both by sea and land, which I have done. But address the maiden you have with you in the name of my consort; she salutes her, as she is a great patroness of chastity, and foretells her, at last, a fortunate issue to all her troubles.'

"I started up, trembling, at the vision. Theagenes asked what ailed me. 'We shall be too late,' said I, 'for the ship is sailing out of port; it is this thought which has disturbed and awakened me; but do you get up and collect our baggage, and I will go and see for Chariclea.' She appeared at my first summons: Tyrrhenus, too, got up, and inquired what we were about. 'What we are doing,' said I, 'is by your advice; we are endeavouring to escape from those who are lying in wait for us; and may the gods preserve and reward you for all your goodness to us: but do you add this to all the favours you have already bestowed upon us; pass, I pray you, into Ithaca, and sacrifice for us to Ulysses, and beseech him to moderate the anger which he has conceived against us, and signified to me this night in a dream.' He promised he would do so, and accompanied us to the ship, shedding tears abundantly, and wishing us a prosperous voyage, and all sorts of happiness. In short, as soon as the morning star appeared, we set sail, much against the will of the crew, who were with difficulty persuaded by the Tyrian merchant, when they were told, that it was in order to escape from a pirate, who lay in wait for them. He knew that what they thought a fiction, was the sober truth.

"We encountered adverse winds, a swelling sea, and almost continual tempests; we lost one[20]of our rudders; had our yard-arms much injured, and were in imminent danger of perishing, when we reached a promontory of Crete: here we determined to stay a few days, to repair our vessel and refresh ourselves. We did so, and fixed for putting again to sea the first day of the new moon, after her conjunction with the sun.

"We set sail, with a gentle south-west wind, directing our course towards Africa, which our pilot used all his endeavours to reach as soon as he could; for he said he had for some time observed a vessel hovering at a distance, which he took for a pirate. 'Ever since we left Crete,' says he, 'she has followed us; she steers the same course, and without doubt it is by design, not accident; for I have often changed my track, on purpose to see if she would do the same, and she has always invariably done so.' A great part of the crew were alarmed at this intelligence, and began to exhort each other to prepare for defence; others neglected it, and said it was a very common thing for small ships to follow in the wake of larger ones, for the sake of being directed in their way.

"While they were thus disputing, evening[21]approached; the wind slackened gradually, breathed gently on the sails and now made them flutter a little, but hardly swelled them at all. At length it subsided into a dead calm, setting with the sun, or retiring, as I may say, to give advantage to our pursuers; for while there was a fresh gale our ship, spreading more canvas, far out-sailed them; but when the wind dropped, when the sea was smooth, and we were driven to make use of our oars, this light and small vessel soon came up with our large and heavy one. When they came near, one of the crew, an inhabitant of Zacynthus, cried out: 'We are undone, this is a pirate crew: I am well acquainted with the ship of Trachinus.'

"We were thunderstruck at this intelligence, and, in the midst of a sea calm, our vessel shook with a tempest of confusion; it was full of tumult, lamentation, and hurrying up and down. Some ran into the hold; others encouraged one another to resist and fight; a third party were for getting into the boat, and so attempting an escape. While they were thus in confusion, and mutually hindering each other, the approach of danger put an end to their disputes, and every one seized upon the weapon which was nearest to him.

"Chariclea and myself, embracing Theagenes, were hardly able to restrain his ardent spirit which was boiling for the fight; she assuring him that death should not separate them; but that the same sword which wounded him, should put an end to her life. I, as soon as I knew that it was Trachinus who pursued us, began to consider how best to promote our future safety. The pirates coming close up with us, crossed our course, and being very desirous of taking us, did not use their arms; but rowing round us, prevented our farther progress, like besiegers wishing to make us surrender upon terms. 'Fools,' they cried out, 'why are you so mad as to make a show of defence against so superior a force? drawing upon yourselves certain destruction! We are as yet disposed to treat you kindly; you may even now, if you please, get into your boats, and save your lives.'

"So long as a bloodless war was waged, the Phœnicians were bold enough and refused to quit the vessel. But when one of the pirates, more daring than his fellows, leapt into the ship, and began to cut at them right and left with his sword, and they became sensible that the matter was now serious, and that wounds and blood must settle it, they repented of their boldness, fell at their enemies' feet, begged for quarter, and promised to do whatever they were ordered.

"The pirates, although they had already begun the fight, and though the sight of blood commonly whets the angry passions, yet, at the command of Trachinus, unexpectedly spared the supplicants. A truce ensued, but a truce more dreadful, perhaps, than battle: it had the name of peace, but war would have been scarcely less grievous. The conditions of it were, that every man should quit the ship, with a single garment, and death was denounced against any one who should violate these terms. But life, it seems, is preferred by mankind before all other things; and the Tyrians (robbed as they were of their ship and wealth), as if they had gained rather than lost, contended with each other who should be the first to leap into the boat and so preserve their lives.

"When we came into his presence, according to command, Trachinus, taking Chariclea by the hand said; 'We wage not war against you, my charmer; although the hostilities are undertaken on your account. I have all along been following you, ever since you left Zacynthus, despising for your sake the sea and danger; be of good cheer, then, I will make you mistress, with myself, of all these riches.' It is the part of prudence to seize upon the opportunity. So she, remembering some of my instructions, smoothed her brow, which this sudden storm had ruffled, and composed her countenance to winning smiles.—'I give the gods thanks,' says she, 'for inspiring you with merciful sentiments towards us; but if you would win, and keep my confidence, give me this first mark of your goodwill—preserve to me my brother and my father, and do not order them to quit the ship, for I cannot live without them;' and with this she fell at his feet, and embraced his knees.[22]

"Trachinus, thrilling with pleasure at her touch, that he might enjoy it the longer, purposely delayed granting her request. At last, melted by her tears, and subdued by her looks, he raised her up, and said—'I grant your prayer, as to your brother with pleasure, he seems a youth of spirit and may help us in our trade; but as for the old man, who is but useless lumber, if I preserve him, it is only out of great regard to your entreaties.'

"While this was passing the sun set, and the dusk of twilight surrounded us; the sea began to swell on a sudden, whether on account of the change of season, or the will of fortune, I know not; the sound of rising wind was heard. In a moment it swept down upon the sea, in stormy gusts, and filled the hearts of the pirates with tumult and apprehension; for they were overtaken with it after they had left their own bark, and had got on board our ship for the sake of plunder; this, from its size, they were unused to, and unable to manage: their[23]seamanship was all extemporised and self-taught, each for himself, boldly exercised some department of his art. Some furled the sails, others clumsily pulled the ropes; one bungler ran to the prow,[24]another attempted to manage the tiller at the stern; so that we were in imminent danger, not so much from the fury of the storm, which was not yet very violent, as from the ignorance and unskilfulness of the sailors and pilot, who as long as there was any glimmering of light, made a show of resisting the tempest; but, when darkness overshadowed us, totally gave the matter up. The waves now burst over us, and we were in peril of going to the bottom, when some of the pirates made an attempt to get again on board of their own bark, but were hindered and stopped by the rage of the increasing tempest, and by the exhortations of Trachinus; who told them, that if they would preserve the ship on board of which they were, together with its wealth, they might buy a thousand such boats as their own. At length they cut the cable by which it was kept in tow, maintaining that it might be the cause of a fresh storm to them, and that by so doing he provided for their future security; for if they should touch at any port, bringing an empty bark with them, an inquiry would naturally be made as to its crew. His comrades approved of what he had done, and found him to have shown his sense in two respects; for they felt the ship a good deal eased after the bark was turned adrift, but the tempest was by no means appeased; they were still tossed by wave[25]following upon wave, the vessel suffered much injury, and was in great danger. Having with difficulty weathered the night, we drove all the next day, and towards the end of it made land, near the Heracleotic mouth of the Nile, and, against our wills, disembarked on the coast of Egypt. Our companions were full of joy; we were overcome with grief, and we felt ill-will to Neptune for our preservation—we should have preferred a death free from insult at sea, to a more dreadful expectation on land, and a continual exposure to the lawless wills of the pirates. They began to act in accordance with their nature on landing; for, proposing to offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving to Neptune, they brought Tyrian wine, and other requisites for the ceremony, out of the ship; and sent some of their comrades with store of money into the country, to buy up cattle, bidding them pay whatever price was asked. As soon as these returned with a whole herd of sheep and swine, the pirates who had stayed behind immediately set fire to a pile, sacrificed the victims, and prepared the feast.

"Trachinus took an opportunity of leading me aside, and thus addressed me;—'Father, I have betrothed your daughter to myself; and am preparing to celebrate the marriage this very day, combining the most delightsome festival with this sacrifice to the gods. That you may partake cheerfully of the approaching entertainment, and that you may inform your daughter, who, I hope, will receive the intimation with joy, I give you this previous notice of my intentions; not that I want your consent to put them in execution; my power is a pledge for the performance of my will: but I have thought it fitting and auspicious to receive a willing bride from the hands of a parent, who shall have before apprised and persuaded her.'

"I pretended approval of what he said, and gave thanks to the gods who had destined my daughter to the honour of being his spouse; and then retiring, I began to consider what I could do in this conjuncture. I soon returned, and besought him that the nuptials might be celebrated with greater pomp and circumstance than he seemed to hint at—that he would assign the vessel as a bridal chamber for Chariclea; that he would give orders that none might enter or disturb her there, that she might have time to get ready her wedding dress, and make other needful preparations for the ceremony; for it would be most unseemly, that she, whose family was illustrious, and wealth considerable; and above all, she who was about to be the bride of Trachinus, should not have what preparation and ornament the present occasion would permit; although the shortness of the notice, and inconvenience of the place, would not allow the celebration of the nuptials with that splendour which was befitting their station.

"Trachinus was overjoyed at hearing me talk in this manner; and said he would, with the greatest pleasure, order everything as I desired. In consequence of this, he gave strict directions that no one should approach the ship after they had taken everything out of it they wanted. They conveyed out tables, cups, carpets, canopies—the works[26]of Tyrian and Sidonian hands, and every requisite for ministering to and adorning a feast. They carried in disorder upon their shoulders, heaps of rich furniture and utensils, collected with great care and parsimony, but now destined to be defiled by the licentiousness of a tumultuous entertainment. I took Theagenes, and went to Chariclea; we found her weeping. 'You are accustomed, my daughter,' said I, 'to these reverses, and yet you lament as if they were new to you. Has any fresh misfortune happened?'

"'Everything is unfortunate,' she replied; 'above all, the fatal passion of Trachinus, which there is now but too much reason to fear, both from his circumstances and opportunities, that he will soon attempt to gratify. Unexpected success inflames the desires of a licentious mind; but he shall have reason to rue his detested love. Death, certain death, shall withdraw me from his pursuit: yet the thought of being divided from you, and from Theagenes, if such a separation should become necessary, dissolves me into tears.'—'Your conjectures are but too true,' I replied: 'Trachinus is resolved to turn the entertainment, which usually follows a sacrifice, into a nuptial ceremony, and there you are to be the victim. He discovered his design to me, as to your father; but I was long ago acquainted with his violent passion for you, even ever since the conversation which I had with Tyrrhenus, at Zacynthus. But I concealed what I knew, that I might not prematurely afflict you with the dread of impending calamity, especially as I had hopes of escaping it. But since, my children, fate has ordered otherwise, and we are now in such hazardous circumstances; let us dare some noble and sudden deed; let us meet this extremity of danger courageously, and either preserve our lives with bravery and freedom, or resign them with fortitude and honour.' When they had promised to act as I should order, and I had directed them what they were to do, I left them to prepare themselves, and sought the pirate next in command to Trachinus. His name, I think, was Pelorus: I accosted him and told him that I had something agreeable to disclose to him. He followed me readily to a retired place, and I went on:

"'Son,' said I, 'hear in few words, what I have to say to you; the opportunity admits not of delay, or long discourse—to be brief, my daughter is in love with you. No wonder; you have fascinated her with your appearance, but she suspects that your captain will seize this opportunity of the sacrifice to marry her himself: for he has ordered her to be dressed and adorned as elegantly as her present time admits of. Consider then how you may best frustrate his intention, and obtain the damsel for yourself, who says she will rather die than become the spouse of Trachinus.' Pelorus listened eagerly to me: and then replied, 'Be of good cheer, father; I have long felt an equal affection for your daughter, and was seeking an opportunity of getting into her good graces. Trachinus therefore shall either voluntarily resign this maiden to me (to whom besides, I have a just claim, as having been the first to board your vessel), or he shall feel the weight of my hand, and his nuptials shall bear bitter fruits.' After this conversation I retired, that I might raise no suspicion. I went to my children—I comforted them—I told them that our scheme was in a very good train. I supped afterwards with our captors. When I observed them warm with wine, and ready to be quarrelsome, I said softly to Pelorus (for I had designedly placed myself near him), 'Have you seen how the maiden is adorned?'—'No,' said he.—'You may then, if you please,' I returned, 'if you will go aboard the vessel; privately though, for Trachinus has forbidden all access to it. You may there see her sitting, like the goddess Diana; but moderate your transports; take no freedoms, lest you draw down death both on yourself and her.'

"After this he took the first opportunity of withdrawing secretly, and entered with all speed into the ship. He there beheld Chariclea, with a crown of laurel on her head, and refulgent in a gold-embroidered robe, (for she had dressed herself in her sacred Delphic garments, which might, as the event should turn out, be either funereal or triumphant); everything about her was splendid, and bore the semblance of a bridal chamber. Pelorus was all on fire at the sight. Desire and jealousy raged in his bosom. He returned to the company, with a look which indicated some furious design. Scarcely had he sat down, when he broke out—'Why have I not received the reward which is justly due to me for having first boarded our prize?'—'Because you have not demanded it,' replied Trachinus. 'Besides, there has yet been no division of the booty.'—'I demand then,' said Pelorus, 'the maiden whom we have taken,'—'Ask any thing but her,' said the captain, 'and you shall have it.'—'Then,' returned the other, 'you break cutter's law, which assigns to the first who boards an enemy's ship, and meets the danger, the free and unrestricted choice of taking what he will.'—'I do not mean to break our private law,' said Trachinus; 'but I rest upon another law, which commands you all to be obedient to your captain. I have a violent affection for this maiden—I propose to marry her; and think I have a right, in this instance, to a preference: if you oppose my will, this cup which I hold in my hand, shall make you rue your opposition.' Pelorus, glancing his eyes on his companions—'See,' says he, 'the guerdon of our toils; just so may each of you be deprived of your rewards!' How, Nausicles, shall I describe the scene which followed? You might compare the company to the sea agitated by a sudden squall of wind: rage and wine hurried them headlong into the wildest excesses of tumult. Some took part with their captain, others with his opponent; some called out to obey their captain, others to vindicate the violated law. At length Trachinus raised his arm in act to hurl a goblet at Pelorus; but at that instant the other plunged a dagger into his side, and he fell dead on the spot. The fray now became general: dreadful blows were dealt on all sides; some in revenge of their captain, others in support of Pelorus; wounds were inflicted and received by sticks and stones, by cups and tables—shouts of victory and groans of defeat resounded everywhere. I retired as far as I could from the tumult, and gaining a rising ground, became, from a secure spot, a spectator of the dreadful scene. Theagenes and Chariclea did not escape a share in it; for he, as had been before agreed upon, joined himself sword in hand, to one of the parties, and fought with the utmost fury; she, when she saw the fight began, shot her arrows from the ship, sparing only Theagenes. She herself did not join either side, but aimed at the first fair mark she saw, herself being all the while concealed, but sufficiently discovering her enemies by the light of their fires and torches: they, ignorant of the hand which smote them, thought it a prodigy, and a stroke from heaven.

"All the crew besides being now stretched on the ground, Theagenes was left closely engaged in fight with Pelorus, an antagonist of tried courage, exercised in many a scene of bloodshed. Chariclea could now no longer assist him with her shafts, she dreaded lest in this hand-to-hand engagement, she might wound her lover instead of his antagonist. The event of the fight was for some time doubtful; at length Pelorus began to give way. Chariclea, deprived of all other means of assisting him, encouraged him with her voice. 'Be strong,' she cried out, 'be of good cheer, take courage, my life!'

"Her words inspired her lover with fresh spirit and resolution: they reminded him, that she, the prize of victory, still lived. Regardless of several wounds which he had received, he now made a desperate effort, rushed upon Pelorus, and aimed a fearful sword-cut at his head; a sudden swerve occasioned him to miss his blow, but his blade descended on his enemy's shoulder, and lopped off his arm above the elbow. The barbarian now had recourse to flight; Theagenes pursued him. What followed I am not able to relate—he came back without my perceiving it. I still remained on the eminence to which I had retired, not daring, in the night time, to proceed any farther in a hostile country. But he had not escaped the eye of Chariclea. I saw him at break of day lying, in a manner, dead; she sitting by, lamenting, and ready to kill herself upon him, but restrained by a glimmering of hope that he might still survive. I, thunderstruck at the suddenness with which our misfortunes by land had succeeded those by sea, was not able to speak. I could neither inquire into the particulars of the situation in which he had returned, nor attempt to comfort her, nor relieve him.

"At break of day, after I had descended from my eminence, I saw a band of Egyptian pirates coming down from a mountain which overlooked the sea.[27]In a twinkling they had seized, and were carrying off, the youthful pair, together with what plunder they could take with them from the ship. I followed them at a distance, lamenting my own, and my children's misfortunes, unable to succour them, and thinking it best not to join them; cherishing some faint hope of future assistance. But I soon felt my own unfitness for the task, being left far behind by the Egyptians, and unable to follow them through steep and rugged roads. Since that time, until the recovery of my daughter, by the favour of the gods, and your goodness, Ο Nausicles, my days have passed in sorrow and tears."

Having said this, he wept. All who heard him wept with him; and a lamentation, not wholly unmixed with pleasure, pervaded the whole company. Tears readily flow when the head is warm with wine. At length Nausicles applied himself to comfort Calasiris.

"Father," said he, "be of good cheer, you have already recovered your daughter, and this night alone divides you from the presence of your son. To-morrow we will wait upon Mithranes, and do all in our power to ransom and free Theagenes."—"No wish is nearer to my heart," replied Calasiris, "but it is now time to break up our entertainment: let us remember the gods, and join with our libations, thanksgiving for my child's deliverance." Upon this the vases for libation were carried round, and the company dispersed.

Calasiris looked about for Chariclea; and having long watched the crowd as they came out, and not seeing her, at length he inquired for her of one of the women, and by her information went into the temple, where he found her fallen into a deep sleep, embracing the feet of the image of the deity, wearied by long prayer, and exhausted by grief. He dropped a tear over her, breathed out a petition for her happiness, and, gently waking her, conducted her to his lodging, blushing at her imprudence, in having suffered herself to be surprised by sleep in such a place. Here, in her chamber, with the daughter of Nausicles, she laid herself down to rest, but wakefulness compelled her to ruminate upon her sorrows.

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