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An Egyptian Princess — Complete

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Title: An Egyptian Princess — Complete

Author: Georg Ebers

Translator: Eleanor Grove


        
Release date: November 15, 2004 [eBook #5460]
                Most recently updated: December 28, 2020

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN EGYPTIAN PRINCESS — COMPLETE ***



Produced by David Widger





AN EGYPTIAN PRINCESS, Complete

By Georg Ebers


Translated from the German by Eleanor Grove




PREFACE TO THE SECOND GERMAN EDITION

          Aut prodesse volunt ant delectare poetae,
          Aut simul et jucunda et idonea dicere vitae.
               Horat. De arte poetica v. 333.

It is now four years since this book first appeared before the public,
and I feel it my duty not to let a second edition go forth into the
world without a few words of accompaniment. It hardly seems necessary to
assure my readers that I have endeavored to earn for the following pages
the title of a "corrected edition." An author is the father of his book,
and what father could see his child preparing to set out on a new
and dangerous road, even if it were not for the first time, without
endeavoring to supply him with every good that it lay in his power to
bestow, and to free him from every fault or infirmity on which the world
could look unfavorably? The assurance therefore that I have repeatedly
bestowed the greatest possible care on the correction of my Egyptian
Princess seems to me superfluous, but at the same time I think it
advisable to mention briefly where and in what manner I have found
it necessary to make these emendations. The notes have been revised,
altered, and enriched with all those results of antiquarian research
(more especially in reference to the language and monuments of ancient
Egypt) which have come to our knowledge since the year 1864, and which
my limited space allowed me to lay before a general public. On the
alteration of the text itself I entered with caution, almost with
timidity; for during four years of constant effort as academical tutor,
investigator and writer in those severe regions of study which exclude
the free exercise of imagination, the poetical side of a man's nature
may forfeit much to the critical; and thus, by attempting to remodel my
tale entirely, I might have incurred the danger of removing it from the
more genial sphere of literary work to which it properly belongs. I have
therefore contented myself with a careful revision of the style, the
omission of lengthy passages which might have diminished the interest of
the story to general readers, the insertion of a few characteristic or
explanatory additions, and the alteration of the proper names. These
last I have written not in their Greek, but in their Latin forms, having
been assured by more than one fair reader that the names Ibykus and
Cyrus would have been greeted by them as old acquaintances, whereas the
"Ibykos" and "Kyros" of the first edition looked so strange and learned,
as to be quite discouraging. Where however the German k has the same
worth as the Roman c I have adopted it in preference. With respect
to the Egyptian names and those with which we have become acquainted
through the cuneiform inscriptions, I have chosen the forms most adapted
to our German modes of speech, and in the present edition have placed
those few explanations which seemed to me indispensable to the right
understanding of the text, at the foot of the page, instead of among the
less easily accessible notes at the end.

The fact that displeasure has been excited among men of letters by this
attempt to clothe the hardly-earned results of severer studies in an
imaginative form is even clearer to me now than when I first sent this
book before the public. In some points I agree with this judgment, but
that the act is kindly received, when a scholar does not scorn to render
the results of his investigations accessible to the largest number of
the educated class, in the form most generally interesting to them, is
proved by the rapid sale of the first large edition of this work. I
know at least of no better means than those I have chosen, by which to
instruct and suggest thought to an extended circle of readers. Those who
read learned books evince in so doing a taste for such studies; but it
may easily chance that the following pages, though taken up only for
amusement, may excite a desire for more information, and even gain a
disciple for the study of ancient history.

Considering our scanty knowledge of the domestic life of the Greeks and
Persians before the Persian war--of Egyptian manners we know more--even
the most severe scholar could scarcely dispense with the assistance
of his imagination, when attempting to describe private life among the
civilized nations of the sixth century before Christ. He would however
escape all danger of those anachronisms to which the author of such a
work as I have undertaken must be hopelessly liable. With attention and
industry, errors of an external character may be avoided, but if I had
chosen to hold myself free from all consideration of the times in which
I and my readers have come into the world, and the modes of thought at
present existing among us, and had attempted to depict nothing but the
purely ancient characteristics of the men and their times, I should have
become unintelligible to many of my readers, uninteresting to all, and
have entirely failed in my original object. My characters will therefore
look like Persians, Egyptians, &c., but in their language, even more
than in their actions, the German narrator will be perceptible, not
always superior to the sentimentality of his day, but a native of the
world in the nineteenth century after the appearance of that heavenly
Master, whose teaching left so deep an impression on human thought and
feeling.

The Persians and Greeks, being by descent related to ourselves,
present fewer difficulties in this respect than the Egyptians, whose
dwelling-place on the fruitful islands won by the Nile from the Desert,
completely isolated them from the rest of the world.

To Professor Lepsius, who suggested to me that a tale confined entirely
to Egypt and the Egyptians might become wearisome, I owe many thanks;
and following his hint, have so arranged the materials supplied by
Herodotus as to introduce my reader first into a Greek circle. Here he
will feel in a measure at home, and indeed will entirely sympathize with
them on one important point, viz.: in their ideas on the Beautiful and
on Art. Through this Hellenic portico he reaches Egypt, from thence
passes on to Persia and returns finally to the Nile. It has been my
desire that the three nations should attract him equally, and I have
therefore not centred the entire interest of the plot in one hero, but
have endeavored to exhibit each nation in its individual character, by
means of a fitting representative. The Egyptian Princess has given
her name to the book, only because the weal and woe of all my other
characters were decided by her fate, and she must therefore be regarded
as the central point of the whole.

In describing Amasis I have followed the excellent description of
Herodotus, which has been confirmed by a picture discovered on an
ancient monument. Herodotus has been my guide too in the leading
features of Cambyses' character; indeed as he was born only forty or
fifty years after the events related, his history forms the basis of my
romance.

"Father of history" though he be, I have not followed him blindly, but,
especially in the development of my characters, have chosen those paths
which the principles of psychology have enabled me to lay down for
myself, and have never omitted consulting those hieroglyphic and
cuneiform inscriptions which have been already deciphered. In most cases
these confirm the statements of Herodotus.

I have caused Bartja's murder to take place after the conquest of Egypt,
because I cannot agree with the usually received translation of the
Behistun inscription. This reads as follows: "One named Cambujiya, son
of Curu, of our family, was king here formerly and had a brother named
Bartiya, of the same father and the same mother as Cambujiya. Thereupon
Cambujiya killed that Bartiya." In a book intended for general readers,
it would not be well to enter into a discussion as to niceties of
language, but even the uninitiated will see that the word "thereupon"
has no sense in this connection. In every other point the inscription
agrees with Herodotus' narrative, and I believe it possible to bring it
into agreement with that of Darius on this last as well; but reserve my
proofs for another time and place.

It has not been ascertained from whence Herodotus has taken the name
Smerdis which he gives to Bartja and Gaumata. The latter occurs again,
though in a mutilated form, in Justin.

My reasons for making Phanes an Athenian will be found in Note 90. Vol.
I. This coercion of an authenticated fact might have been avoided in the
first edition, but could not now be altered without important changes in
the entire text. The means I have adopted in my endeavor to make Nitetis
as young as possible need a more serious apology; as, notwithstanding
Herodotus' account of the mildness of Amasis' rule, it is improbable
that King Hophra should have been alive twenty years after his fall.
Even this however is not impossible, for it can be proved that his
descendants were not persecuted by Amasis.

On a Stela in the Leyden Museum I have discovered that a certain
Psamtik, a member of the fallen dynasty, lived till the 17th year of
Amasis' reign, and died at the age of seventy-five.

Lastly let me be permitted to say a word or two in reference to
Rhodopis. That she must have been a remarkable woman is evident from the
passage in Herodotus quoted in Notes 10, and 14, Vol. I., and from the
accounts given by many other writers. Her name, "the rosy-cheeked one,"
tells us that she was beautiful, and her amiability and charm of manner
are expressly praised by Herodotus. How richly she was endowed with
gifts and graces may be gathered too from the manner in which tradition
and fairy lore have endeavored to render her name immortal. By many she
is said to have built the most beautiful of the Pyramids, the Pyramid of
Mycerinus or Menkera. One tale related of her and reported by Strabo and
AElian probably gave rise to our oldest and most beautiful fairy tale,
Cinderella; another is near akin to the Loreley legend. An eagle,
according to AElian--the wind, in Strabo's tale,--bore away Rhodopis'
slippers while she was bathing in the Nile, and laid them at the feet of
the king, when seated on his throne of justice in the open market.
The little slippers so enchanted him that he did not rest until he had
discovered their owner and made her his queen.

The second legend tells us how a wonderfully beautiful naked woman
could be seen sitting on the summit of one of the pyramids (ut in una ex
pyramidibus); and how she drove the wanderers in the desert mad through
her exceeding loveliness.

Moore borrowed this legend and introduces it in the following verse:

       "Fair Rhodope, as story tells--
        The bright unearthly nymph, who dwells
        'Mid sunless gold and jewels hid,
        The lady of the Pyramid."

Fabulous as these stories sound, they still prove that Rhodopis must
have been no ordinary woman. Some scholars would place her on a level
with the beautiful and heroic Queen Nitokris, spoken of by Julius
Africanus, Eusebius and others, and whose name, (signifying the
victorious Neith) has been found on the monuments, applied to a queen
of the sixth dynasty. This is a bold conjecture; it adds however to the
importance of our heroine; and without doubt many traditions referring
to the one have been transferred to the other, and vice versa.
Herodotus lived so short a time after Rhodopis, and tells so many exact
particulars of her private life that it is impossible she should have
been a mere creation of fiction. The letter of Darius, given at the
end of Vol. II., is intended to identify the Greek Rhodopis with the
mythical builder of the Pyramid. I would also mention here that she
is called Doricha by Sappho. This may have been her name before she
received the title of the "rosy-cheeked one."

I must apologize for the torrent of verse that appears in the
love-scenes between Sappho and Bartja; it is also incumbent upon me to
say a few words about the love-scenes themselves, which I have altered
very slightly in the new edition, though they have been more severely
criticised than any other portion of the work.

First I will confess that the lines describing the happy love of a
handsome young couple to whom I had myself become warmly attached,
flowed from my pen involuntarily, even against my will (I intended to
write a novel in prose) in the quiet night, by the eternal Nile, among
the palms and roses. The first love-scene has a story of its own to me.
I wrote it in half an hour, almost unconsciously. It may be read in my
book that the Persians always reflected in the morning, when sober, upon
the resolutions formed the night before, while drunk. When I examined in
the sunshine what had come into existence by lamplight, I grew doubtful
of its merits, and was on the point of destroying the love-scenes
altogether, when my dear friend Julius Hammer, the author of "Schau
in Dich, und Schau um Dich," too early summoned to the other world by
death, stayed my hand. Their form was also approved by others, and I
tell myself that the 'poetical' expression of love is very similar in
all lands and ages, while lovers' conversations and modes of intercourse
vary according to time and place. Besides, I have to deal with one of
those by no means rare cases, where poetry can approach nearer the truth
than prudent, watchful prose. Many of my honored critics have censured
these scenes; others, among whom are some whose opinion I specially
value, have lavished the kindest praise upon them. Among these gentlemen
I will mention A. Stahr, C. V. Holtei, M. Hartmann, E. Hoefer, W.
Wolfsohn, C. Leemans, Professor Veth of Amsterdam, etc. Yet I will not
conceal the fact that some, whose opinion has great weight, have asked:
"Did the ancients know anything of love, in our sense of the word?
Is not romantic love, as we know it, a result of Christianity?" The
following sentence, which stands at the head of the preface to my first
edition, will prove that I had not ignored this question when I began my
task.

   "It has often been remarked that in Cicero's letters and those of
   Pliny the younger there are unmistakable indications of sympathy
   with the more sentimental feeling of modern days. I find in them
   tones of deep tenderness only, such as have arisen and will arise
   from sad and aching hearts in every land and every age."

               A. v. HUMBOLDT. Cosmos II. P. 19.

This opinion of our great scholar is one with which I cheerfully
coincide and would refer my readers to the fact that love-stories were
written before the Christian era: the Amor and Psyche of Apuleius for
instance. Indeed love in all its forms was familiar to the ancients.
Where can we find a more beautiful expression of ardent passion than
glows in Sappho's songs? or of patient faithful constancy than in
Homer's Penelope? Could there be a more beautiful picture of the union
of two loving hearts, even beyond the grave, than Xenophon has preserved
for us in his account of Panthea and Abradatas? or the story of Sabinus
the Gaul and his wife, told in the history of Vespasian? Is there
anywhere a sweeter legend than that of the Halcyons, the ice-birds, who
love one another so tenderly that when the male becomes enfeebled by
age, his mate carries him on her outspread wings whithersoever he will;
and the gods, desiring to reward such faithful love, cause the sun to
shine more kindly, and still the winds and waves on the "Halcyon days"
during which these birds are building their nest and brooding over their
young? There can surely have been no lack of romantic love in days when
a used-up man of the world, like Antony, could desire in his will that
wherever he died his body might be laid by the side of his beloved
Cleopatra: nor of the chivalry of love when Berenice's beautiful hair
was placed as a constellation in the heavens. Neither can we believe
that devotion in the cause of love could be wanting when a whole
nation was ready to wage a fierce and obstinate war for the sake of one
beautiful woman. The Greeks had an insult to revenge, but the Trojans
fought for the possession of Helen. Even the old men of Ilium were ready
"to suffer long for such a woman." And finally is not the whole question
answered in Theocritus' unparalleled poem, "the Sorceress?" We see the
poor love-lorn girl and her old woman-servant, Thestylis, cowering over
the fire above which the bird supposed to possess the power of bringing
back the faithless Delphis is sitting in his wheel. Simoetha has learnt
many spells and charms from an Assyrian, and she tries them all. The
distant roar of the waves, the stroke rising from the fire, the dogs
howling in the street, the tortured fluttering bird, the old woman, the
broken-hearted girl and her awful spells, all join in forming a night
scene the effect of which is heightened by the calm cold moonshine.
The old woman leaves the girl, who at once ceases to weave her spells,
allows her pent-up tears to have their way, and looking up to Selene the
moon, the lovers' silent confidante, pours out her whole story: how when
she first saw the beautiful Delphis her heart had glowed with love, she
had seen nothing more of the train of youths who followed him, "and,"
(thus sadly the poet makes her speak)

               "how I gained my home
        I knew not; some strange fever wasted me.
        Ten days and nights I lay upon my bed.
        O tell me, mistress Moon, whence came my love!"

"Then" (she continues) when Delphis at last crossed her threshold:

                         "I
        Became all cold like snow, and from my brow
        Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none,
        Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make
        That babbles to its mother in its dreams;
        But all my fair frame stiffened into wax,--
        O tell me mistress Moon, whence came my love!"

Whence came her love? thence, whence it comes to us now. The love of the
creature to its Creator, of man to God, is the grand and yet gracious
gift of Christianity. Christ's command to love our neighbor called
into existence not only the conception of philanthropy, but of humanity
itself, an idea unknown to the heathen world, where love had been at
widest limited to their native town and country. The love of man and
wife has without doubt been purified and transfigured by Christianity;
still it is possible that a Greek may have loved as tenderly and
longingly as a Christian. The more ardent glow of passion at least
cannot be denied to the ancients. And did not their love find vent
in the same expressions as our own? Who does not know the charming
roundelay:

          "Drink the glad wine with me,
          With me spend youth's gay hours;
          Or a sighing lover be,
          Or crown thy brow with flowers.
          When I am merry and mad,
          Merry and mad be you;
          When I am sober and sad,
          Be sad and sober too!"
--written however by no poet of modern days, but by Praxilla, in the
fifth century before Christ. Who would guess either that Moore's little
song was modelled on one written even earlier than the date of our
story?

          "As o'er her loom the Lesbian maid
          In love-sick languor hung her head.
          Unknowing where her fingers stray'd,
          She weeping turned away and said,'
          Oh, my sweet mother, 'tis in vain,

          I cannot weave as once I wove;
          So wilder'd is my heart and brain
          With thinking of that youth I love.'"

If my space allowed I could add much more on this subject, but will
permit myself only one remark in conclusion. Lovers delighted in nature
then as now; the moon was their chosen confidante, and I know of no
modern poem in which the mysterious charm of a summer night and the
magic beauty which lies on flowers, trees and fountains in those silent
hours when the world is asleep, is more exquisitely described than in
the following verses, also by Sappho, at the reading of which we seem
forced to breathe more slowly, "kuhl bis an's Herz hinan."

          "Planets, that around the beauteous moon
          Attendant wait, cast into shade
          Their ineffectual lustres, soon
          As she, in full-orb'd majesty array'd,
          Her silver radiance pours
          Upon this world of ours."

and:--

          "Thro' orchard plots with fragrance crown'd,
          The clear cold fountain murm'ring flows;
          And forest leaves, with rustling sound,
          Invite to soft repose."

The foregoing remarks seemed to me due to those who consider a love such
as that of Sappho and Bartja to have been impossible among the ancients.
Unquestionably it was much rarer then than in these days: indeed I
confess to having sketched my pair of lovers in somewhat bright colors.
But may I not be allowed, at least once, to claim the poet's freedom?

How seldom I have availed myself of this freedom will be evident from
the notes included in each volume. They seemed to me necessary, partly
in order to explain the names and illustrate the circumstances mentioned
in the text, and partly to vindicate the writer in the eyes of the
learned. I trust they may not prove discouraging to any, as the text
will be found easily readable without reference to the explanations.

   Jena, November 23, 1868.
               GEORG EBERS, DR.




PREFACE TO THE FOURTH GERMAN EDITION.

Two years and a half after the appearance of the third edition of "An
Egyptian Princess," a fourth was needed. I returned long since from
the journey to the Nile, for which I was preparing while correcting the
proof-sheets of the third edition, and on which I can look back with
special satisfaction. During my residence in Egypt, in 1872-73, a
lucky accident enabled me to make many new discoveries; among them one
treasure of incomparable value, the great hieratic manuscript, which
bears my name. Its publication has just been completed, and it is now in
the library of the Leipzig University.

The Papyrus Ebers, the second in size and the best preserved of all the
ancient Egyptian manuscripts which have come into our possession,
was written in the 16th century B. C., and contains on 110 pages the
hermetic book upon the medicines of the ancient Egyptians, known also to
the Alexandrine Greeks. The god Thoth (Hermes) is called "the guide" of
physicians, and the various writings and treatises of which the work is
composed are revelations from him. In this venerable scroll diagnoses
are made and remedies suggested for the internal and external diseases
of most portions of the human body. With the drugs prescribed are
numbers, according to which they are weighed with weights and measured
with hollow measures, and accompanying the prescriptions are noted the
pious axioms to be repeated by the physician, while compounding and
giving them to the patient. On the second line of the first page of our
manuscript, it is stated that it came from Sais. A large portion of
this work is devoted to the visual organs. On the twentieth line of the
fifty-fifth page begins the book on the eyes, which fills eight large
pages. We were formerly compelled to draw from Greek and Roman authors
what we knew about the remedies used for diseases of the eye among the
ancient Egyptians. The portion of the Papyrus Ebers just mentioned
is now the only Egyptian source from whence we can obtain instruction
concerning this important branch of ancient medicine.

All this scarcely seems to have a place in the preface of a historical
romance, and yet it is worthy of mention here; for there is something
almost "providential" in the fact that it was reserved for the author
of "An Egyptian Princess" to bestow the gift of this manuscript upon the
scientific world. Among the characters in the novel the reader will meet
an oculist from Sais, who wrote a book upon the diseases of the visual
organs. The fate of this valuable work exactly agrees with the course
of the narrative. The papyrus scroll of the Sais oculist, which a short
time ago existed only in the imagination of the author and readers of
"An Egyptian Princess," is now an established fact. When I succeeded in
bringing the manuscript home, I felt like the man who had dreamed of a
treasure, and when he went out to ride found it in his path.

A reply to Monsieur Jules Soury's criticism of "An Egyptian Princess" in
the Revue des deux Mondes, Vol. VII, January 1875, might appropriately
be introduced into this preface, but would scarcely be possible without
entering more deeply into the ever-disputed question, which will be
answered elsewhere, whether the historical romance is ever justifiable.
Yet I cannot refrain from informing Monsieur Soury here that "An
Egyptian Princess" detained me from no other work. I wrote it in my
sick-room, before entering upon my academic career, and while composing
it, found not only comfort and pleasure, but an opportunity to give dead
scientific material a living interest for myself and others.

Monsieur Soury says romance is the mortal enemy of history; but this
sentence may have no more justice than the one with which I think myself
justified in replying: Landscape painting is the mortal enemy of botany.
The historical romance must be enjoyed like any other work of art.
No one reads it to study history; but many, the author hopes, may be
aroused by his work to make investigations of their own, for which the
notes point out the way. Already several persons of excellent mental
powers have been attracted to earnest Egyptological researches by
"An Egyptian Princess." In the presence of such experiences, although
Monsieur Soury's clever statements appear to contain much that is true,
I need not apply his remark that "historical romances injure the cause
of science" to the present volume.

     Leipzig, April 19, 1875.

                    GEORG EBERS.




PREFACE TO THE FIFTH GERMAN EDITION.

Again a new edition of "An Egyptian Princess" has been required, and
again I write a special preface because the printing has progressed so
rapidly as unfortunately to render it impossible for me to correct
some errors to which my attention was directed by the kindness of
the well-known botanist, Professor Paul Ascherson of Berlin, who has
travelled through Egypt and the Oases.

In Vol. I, page 7, I allow mimosas to grow among other plants in
Rhodopis' garden. I have found them in all the descriptions of the Nile
valley, and afterwards often enjoyed the delicious perfume of the golden
yellow flowers in the gardens of Alexandria and Cairo. I now learn that
this very mimosa (Acacia farnesiana) originates in tropical America, and
was undoubtedly unknown in ancient Egypt. The bananas, which I mentioned
in Vol. I, p. 64, among other Egyptian plants, were first introduced
into the Nile valley from India by the Arabs. The botanical errors
occurring in the last volume I was able to correct. Helm's admirable
work on "Cultivated Plants and Domestic Animals" had taught me to notice
such things. Theophrastus, a native of Asia Minor, gives the first
description of a citron, and this proves that he probably saw the
so-called paradise-apple, but not our citron, which I am therefore not
permitted to mention among the plants cultivated in ancient Lydia. Palms
and birches are both found in Asia Minor; but I permitted them to grow
side by side, thereby committing an offense against the geographical
possibility of vegetable existence. The birch, in this locality,
flourishes in the mountainous region, the palm, according to Griesbach
(Vegetation of the Earth, Vol. I, p. 319) only appears on the southern
coast of the peninsula. The latter errors, as I previously mentioned,
will be corrected in the new edition. I shall of course owe special
thanks to any one who may call my attention to similar mistakes.

   Leipzig, March 5, 1877

                  GEORG EBERS




PREFACE TO THE NINTH GERMAN EDITION.

I have nothing to add to the ninth edition of "An Egyptian Princess"
except that it has been thoroughly revised. My sincere thanks are due
to Dr. August Steitz of Frankfort on the Main, who has travelled through
Egypt and Asia Minor, for a series of admirable notes, which he kindly
placed at my disposal. He will find that they have not remained unused.

   Leipzig, November 13, 1879.
                    GEORG EBERS





AN EGYPTIAN PRINCESS.

By Georg Ebers




BOOK 1.




CHAPTER I.

The Nile had overflowed its bed. The luxuriant corn-fields and blooming
gardens on its shores were lost beneath a boundless waste of waters; and
only the gigantic temples and palaces of its cities, (protected from the
force of the water by dikes), and the tops of the tall palm-trees and
acacias could be seen above its surface. The branches of the sycamores
and plane-trees drooped and floated on the waves, but the boughs of the
tall silver poplars strained upward, as if anxious to avoid the watery
world beneath. The full-moon had risen; her soft light fell on the
Libyan range of mountains vanishing on the western horizon, and in the
north the shimmer of the Mediterranean could faintly be discerned. Blue
and white lotus-flowers floated on the clear water, bats of all
kinds darted softly through the still air, heavy with the scent of
acacia-blossom and jasmine; the wild pigeons and other birds were at
roost in the tops of the trees, while the pelicans, storks and cranes
squatted in groups on the shore under the shelter of the papyrus-reeds
and Nile-beans. The pelicans and storks remained motionless, their long
bills hidden beneath their wings, but the cranes were startled by the
mere beat of an oar, stretching their necks, and peering anxiously into
the distance, if they heard but the song of the boatmen. The air was
perfectly motionless, and the unbroken reflection of the moon, lying
like a silver shield on the surface of the water, proved that, wildly as
the Nile leaps over the cataracts, and rushes past the gigantic temples
of Upper Egypt, yet on approaching the sea by different arms, he can
abandon his impetuous course, and flow along in sober tranquillity.

On this moonlight night in the year 528 B. C. a bark was crossing the
almost currentless Canopic mouth of the Nile. On the raised deck at
the stern of this boat an Egyptian was sitting to guide the long
pole-rudder, and the half-naked boatmen within were singing as
they rowed. In the open cabin, which was something like a wooden
summer-house, sat two men, reclining on low cushions. They were
evidently not Egyptians; their Greek descent could be perceived even by
the moonlight. The elder was an unusually tall and powerful man of
more than sixty; thick grey curls, showing very little attempt at
arrangement, hung down over his short, firm throat; he wore a simple,
homely cloak, and kept his eyes gloomily fixed on the water. His
companion, on the contrary, a man perhaps twenty years younger, of a
slender and delicate build, was seldom still. Sometimes he gazed into
the heavens, sometimes made a remark to the steersman, disposed his
beautiful purple chlanis in fresh folds, or busied himself in the
arrangement of his scented brown curls, or his carefully curled beard.

   [The chlanis was a light summer-mantle, worn especially by the more
   elegant Athenians, and generally made of expensive materials. The
   simpler cloak, the himation, was worn by the Doric Greeks, and
   principally by the Spartans.]

The boat had left Naukratis, at that time the only Hellenic port in
Egypt, about half an hour before.

   [This town, which will form the scene of a part of our tale, lies in
   the northwest of the Nile Delta, in the Saitic Nomos or district, on
   the left bank of the Canopic mouth of the river. According to
   Strabo and Eusebius it was founded by Milesians, and Bunsen reckons
   749 B. C. It seems that in the earliest times Greek ships were only
   allowed to enter this mouth of the Nile in case of necessity. The
   entire intercourse of the Egyptians with the hated strangers was, at
   that time, restricted to the little island of Pharos lying opposite
   to the town of Thonis.]

During their journey, the grey-haired, moody man had not spoken one
word, and the other had left him to his meditations. But now, as the
boat neared the shore, the restless traveller, rising from his couch,
called to his companion: "We are just at our destination, Aristomachus!
That pleasant house to the left yonder, in the garden of palms which you
can see rising above the waters, is the dwelling of my friend Rhodopis.
It was built by her husband Charaxus, and all her friends, not excepting
the king himself, vie with one another in adding new beauties to it
year by year. A useless effort! Let them adorn that house with all the
treasures in the world, the woman who lives within will still remain its
best ornament!"

   [We are writing of the month of October, when the Nile begins to
   sink. The inundations can now be accurately accounted for,
   especially since the important and laborious synoptical work of H.
   Barth and S. Baker. They are occasioned by the tropical rains, and
   the melting of the snows on the high mountain-ranges at the Equator.
   In the beginning of June a gradual rising of the Nile waters can be
   perceived; between the 15th and 20th June, this changes to a rapid
   increase; in the beginning of October the waters reach their highest
   elevation, a point, which, even after having begun their retreat,
   they once more attempt to attain; then, at first gradually, and
   afterwards with ever increasing rapidity, they continue to sink. In
   January, February and March, the Nile is still drying up; and in May
   is at its lowest point, when the volume of its waters is only one-
   twentieth of that in October.]

The old man sat up, threw a passing glance at the building, smoothed the
thick grey beard which clothed his cheeks and chin, but left the lips
free,--[The Spartans were not in the habit of wearing a beard on the
upper lip.]--and asked abruptly: "Why so much enthusiasm, Phanes,
for this Rhodopis? How long have the Athenians been wont to extol
old women?" At this remark the other smiled, and answered in a
self-satisfied tone, "My knowledge of the world, and particularly of
women, is, I flatter myself, an extended one, and yet I repeat, that in
all Egypt I know of no nobler creature than this grey-haired woman. When
you have seen her and her lovely grandchild, and heard your favorite
melodies sung by her well-practised choir of slave-girls, I think you
will thank me for having brought you hither."--"Yet," answered the
Spartan gravely, "I should not have accompanied you, if I had not hoped
to meet Phryxus, the Delphian, here."

"You will find him here; and besides, I cannot but hope that the songs
will cheer you, and dispel your gloomy thoughts." Aristomachus shook his
head in denial, and answered: "To you, sanguine Athenians, the melodies
of your country may be cheering: but not so to me; as in many a
sleepless night of dreams, my longings will be doubled, not stilled by
the songs of Alkman."

   [Alkman (Attic, Alkmaeon) flourished in Sparta about 650 B. C. His
   mother was a Lydian slave in Sardes, and he came into the possession
   of Agesides, who gave him his freedom. His beautiful songs soon
   procured him the rights of a Lacedaemonian citizen. He was
   appointed to the head-directorship in the entire department of music
   in Lacedaemon and succeeded in naturalizing the soft Lydian music.
   His language was the Doric-Laconian. After a life devoted to song,
   the pleasures of the table and of love, he is said to have died of
   a fearful disease. From the frequent choruses of virgins
   (Parthenien) said to have been originally introduced by him, his
   frequent songs in praise of women, and the friendly relations in
   which he stood to the Spartan women (more especially to the fair
   Megalostrata), he gained the name of the woman's poet.]

"Do you think then," replied Phanes, "that I have no longing for my
beloved Athens, for the scenes of our youthful games, for the busy life
of the market? Truly, the bread of exile is not less distasteful to my
palate than to yours, but, in the society afforded by this house, it
loses some of its bitterness, and when the dear melodies of Hellas, so
perfectly sung, fall on my ear, my native land rises before me as in a
vision, I see its pine and olive groves, its cold, emerald green rivers,
its blue sea, the shimmer of its towns, its snowy mountain-tops and
marble temples, and a half-sweet, half-bitter tear steals down my cheek
as the music ceases, and I awake to remember that I am in Egypt, in this
monotonous, hot, eccentric country, which, the gods be praised, I am
soon about to quit. But, Aristomachus, would you then avoid the few
Oases in the desert, because you must afterwards return to its sands
and drought? Would you fly from one happy hour, because days of sadness
await you later? But stop, here we are! Show a cheerful countenance, my
friend, for it becomes us not to enter the temple of the Charites with
sad hearts."--[The goddesses of grace and beauty, better known by their
Roman name of "Graces."]

As Phanes uttered these words, they landed at the garden wall, washed
by the Nile. The Athenian bounded lightly from the boat, the Spartan
following with a heavier, firmer tread. Aristomachus had a wooden
leg, but his step was so firm, even when compared with that of the
light-footed Phanes, that it might have been thought to be his own limb.

The garden of Rhodopis was as full of sound, and scent and blossom as
a night in fairy-land. It was one labyrinth of acanthus shrubs,
yellow mimosa, the snowy gelder-rose, jasmine and lilac, red roses and
laburnums, overshadowed by tall palm-trees, acacias and balsam trees.
Large bats hovered softly on their delicate wings over the whole, and
sounds of mirth and song echoed from the river.

This garden had been laid out by an Egyptian, and the builders of
the Pyramids had already been celebrated for ages for their skill in
horticulture. They well understood how to mark out neat flower-beds,
plant groups of trees and shrubs in regular order, water the whole
by aqueducts and fountains, arrange arbors and summerhouses, and even
inclose the walks with artistically clipped hedges, and breed goldfish
in stone basins.

At the garden gate Phanes stopped, looked around him carefully and
listened; then shaking his head, "I do not understand what this can
mean," he said. "I hear no voices, there is not a single light to be
seen, the boats are all gone, and yet the flag is still flying at its
gay flag-staff, there, by the obelisks on each side of the gate."

   [Obelisks bearing the name of the owner were sometimes to be seen
   near the gates of the Egyptian country-houses. Flags too were not
   uncommon, but these were almost exclusively to be found at the gates
   of the temples, where to this day the iron sockets for the flagstaff
   can still be seen. Neither were flags unknown to the Greeks. It
   appears from some inscriptions on the staffs of the Pylons, that if
   the former were not actually erected for lightning-rods, it had been
   noticed that they attracted the electricity.]

"Rhodopis must surely be from home; can they have forgotten?"--Here
a deep voice suddenly interrupted him with the exclamation, "Ha! the
commander of the body-guard!"

"A pleasant evening to you, Knakais," exclaimed Phanes, kindly greeting
the old man, who now came up. "But how is it that this garden is as
still as an Egyptian tomb, and yet the flag of welcome is fluttering at
the gate? How long has that white ensign waved for guests in vain?"

"How long indeed?" echoed the old slave of Rhodopis with a smile. "So
long as the Fates graciously spare the life of my mistress, the old flag
is sure to waft as many guests hither as the house is able to contain.
Rhodopis is not at home now, but she must return shortly. The evening
being so fine, she determined on taking a pleasure-trip on the Nile with
her guests. They started at sunset, two hours ago, and the evening meal
is already prepared; they cannot remain away much longer. I pray you,
Phanes, to have patience and follow me into the house. Rhodopis would
not easily forgive me, if I allowed such valued guests to depart. You
stranger," he added, turning to the Spartan, "I entreat most heartily
to remain; as friend of your friend you will be doubly welcome to my
mistress."

The two Greeks, following the servant, seated themselves in an arbor,
and Aristomachus, after gazing on the scene around him now brilliantly
lighted by the moon, said, "Explain to me, Phanes, by what good fortune
this Rhodopis, formerly only a slave and courtesan can now live as a
queen, and receive her guests in this princely manner?"

   [The mistresses (Hetaere) of the Greeks must not be compared with
   modern women of bad reputation. The better members of this class
   represented the intelligence and culture of their sex in Greece, and
   more especially in the Ionian provinces. As an instance we need
   only recall Aspasia and her well-attested relation to Pericles and
   Socrates. Our heroine Rhodopis was a celebrated woman. The
   Hetaera, Thargalia of Miletus, became the wife of a Thessalian king.
   Ptolemy Lagi married Thais; her daughter was called Irene, and her
   sons Leontiskus and Lagus. Finally, statues were erected to many.]

"I have long expected this question," answered the Athenian. "I shall
be delighted to make you acquainted with the past history of this woman
before you enter her house. So long as we were on the Nile, I would not
intrude my tale upon you; that ancient river has a wonderful power of
compelling to silence and quiet contemplation. Even my usually quick
tongue was paralyzed like yours, when I took my first night-journey on
the Nile."

"I thank you for this," replied the Spartan. "When I first saw the aged
priest Epimenides, at Knossus in Crete, he was one hundred and fifty
years old, and I remember that his age and sanctity filled me with a
strange dread; but how far older, how far more sacred, is this hoary
river, the ancient stream 'Aigyptos'! Who would wish to avoid the
power of his spells? Now, however, I beg you to give me the history of
Rhodopis."

Phanes began: "When Rhodopis was a little child playing with her
companions on the Thracian sea-shore, she was stolen by some Phoenician
mariners, carried to Samos, and bought by Iadmon, one of the geomori, or
landed aristocracy of the island. The little girl grew day by day more
beautiful, graceful and clever, and was soon an object of love and
admiration to all who knew her. AEsop, the fable-writer, who was at that
time also in bondage to Iadmon, took an especial pleasure in the growing
amiability and talent of the child, taught her and cared for her in the
same way as the tutors whom we keep to educate our Athenian boys.

The kind teacher found his pupil tractable and quick of comprehension,
and the little slave soon practised the arts of music, singing and
eloquence, in a more charming and agreeable manner than the sons of her
master Iadmon, on whose education the greatest care had been lavished.
By the time she had reached her fourteenth year, Rhodopis was so
beautiful and accomplished, that the jealous wife of Iadmon would not
suffer her to remain any longer in the house, and the Samian was forced,
with a heavy heart, to sell her to a certain Xanthus. The government of
Samos at that time was still in the hands of the less opulent nobles;
had Polykrates then been at the head of affairs, Xanthus need not have
despaired of a purchaser. These tyrants fill their treasuries as the
magpies their nests! As it was, however, he went off with his precious
jewel to Naukratis, and there gained a fortune by means of her wondrous
charms. These were three years of the deepest humiliation to Rhodopis,
which she still remembers with horror.

Now it happened, just at the time when her fame was spreading through
all Greece, and strangers were coming from far to Naukratis for her sake
alone, that the people of Lesbos rose up against their nobles, drove
them forth, and chose the wise Pittakus as their ruler.

   [According to Herodotus the beauty of Rhodopis was so great that
   every Greek knew her by name.]

The highest families of Lesbos were forced to leave the country, and
fled, some to Sicily, some to the Greek provinces of Italy, and others
to Egypt. Alcaeus, the greatest poet of his day, and Charaxus, the
brother of that Sappho whose odes it was our Solon's last wish to
learn by heart, came here to Naukratis, which had already long been the
flourishing centre of commercial communication between Egypt and
the rest of the world. Charaxus saw Rhodopis, and soon loved her
so passionately, that he gave an immense sum to secure her from the
mercenary Xanthus, who was on the point of returning with her to his own
country; Sappho wrote some biting verses, derisive of her brother
and his purchase, but Alcaeus on the other hand, approved, and gave
expression to this feeling in glowing songs on the charms of Rhodopis.
And now Sappho's brother, who had till then remained undistinguished
among the many strangers at Naukratis, became a noted man through
Rhodopis. His house was soon the centre of attraction to all foreigners,
by whom she was overwhelmed with gifts. The King Hophra, hearing of her
beauty and talent, sent for her to Memphis, and offered to buy her
of Charaxus, but the latter had already long, though secretly,
given Rhodopis her freedom, and loved her far too well to allow of a
separation. She too, loved the handsome Lesbian and refused to leave
him despite the brilliant offers made to her on all sides. At length
Charaxus made this wonderful woman his lawful wife, and continued to
live with her and her little daughter Kleis in Naukratis, until the
Lesbian exiles were recalled to their native land by Pittakus. He then
started homeward with his wife, but fell ill on the journey, and died
soon after his arrival at Mitylene. Sappho, who had derided her brother
for marrying one beneath him, soon became an enthusiastic admirer of the
beautiful widow and rivalled Alcaeus in passionate songs to her praise.

After the death of the poetess, Rhodopis returned, with her little
daughter, to Naukratis, where she was welcomed as a goddess. During this
interval Amasis, the present king of Egypt, had usurped the throne of
the Pharaohs, and was maintaining himself in its possession by help of
the army, to which caste he belonged.

   [Amasis, of whom much will be said in our text, reigned 570-526 B.
   C. His name, in the hieroglyphic signs, was Aahmes or young moon
   but the name by which he was commonly called was Sa-Nit "Son of
   Neith." His name, and pictures of him are to be found on stones in
   the fortress of Cairo, on a relief in Florence, a statue in the
   Vatican, on sarcophagi in Stockholm and London, a statue in the
   Villa Albani and on a little temple of red granite at Leyden. A
   beautiful bust of gray-wacke in our possession probably represents
   the same king.]

As his predecessor Hophra had accelerated his fall, and brought the
army and priesthood to open rebellion by his predilection for the
Greek nation, and for intercourse with foreigners generally, (always
an abomination in the eyes of the Egyptians), men felt confident that
Amasis would return to the old ways, would rigorously exclude foreigners
from the country, dismiss the Greek mercenaries, and instead of taking
counsel from the Greeks, would hearken only to the commands of the
priesthood. But in this, as you must see yourself, the prudent Egyptians
had guessed wide of the mark in their choice of a ruler; they fell from
Scylla into Charybdis. If Hophra was called the Greeks' friend, Amasis
must be named our lover. The Egyptians, especially the priests and the
army, breathe fire and flame, and would fain strangle us one and all,
off hand, This feeling on the part of the soldiery does not disturb
Amasis, for he knows too well the comparative value of their and our
services; but with the priests it is another and more serious matter,
for two reasons: first, they possess an unbounded influence over the
people; and secondly. Amasis himself retains more affection than he
likes to acknowledge to us, for this absurd and insipid religion--a
religion which appears doubly sacred to its adherents simply because it
has existed in this eccentric land--unchanged for thousands of years.
These priests make the king's life burdensome to him; they persecute and
injure us in every possible way; and indeed, if it had not been for
the king's protection, I should long ago have been a dead man. But I
am wandering from my tale! As I said before, Rhodopis was received
at Naukratis with open arms by all, and loaded with marks of favor by
Amasis, who formed her acquaintance. Her daughter Kleis, as is the case
with the little Sappho now--was never allowed to appear in the society
which assembled every evening at her mother's house, and indeed was even
more strictly brought up than the other young girls in Naukratis. She
married Glaucus, a rich Phocaean merchant of noble family, who had
defended his native town with great bravery against the Persians, and
with him departed to the newly-founded Massalia, on the Celtic coast.
There, however, the young couple both fell victims to the climate, and
died, leaving a little daughter, Sappho. Rhodopis at once undertook the
long journey westward, brought the orphan child back to live with her,
spent the utmost care on her education, and now that she is grown up,
forbids her the society of men, still feeling the stains of her own
youth so keenly that she would fain keep her granddaughter (and this in
Sappho's case is not difficult), at a greater distance from contact
with our sex than is rendered necessary, by the customs of Egypt. To my
friend herself society is as indispensable as water to the fish or air
to the bird. Her house is frequented by all the strangers here, and
whoever has once experienced her hospitality and has the time at command
will never after be found absent when the flag announces an evening of
reception. Every Greek of mark is to be found here, as it is in this
house that we consult on the wisest measures for encountering the hatred
of the priests and bringing the king round to our own views. Here you
can obtain not only the latest news from home, but from the rest of the
world, and this house is an inviolable sanctuary for the persecuted,
Rhodopis possessing a royal warrant which secures her from every
molestation on the part of the police.

   [A very active and strict police-force existed in Egypt, the
   organization of which is said to have owed much to Amasis' care. We
   also read in inscriptions and papyrus rolls, that a body of mounted
   police existed, the ranks of which were generally filled by
   foreigners in preference to natives.]

Our own songs and our own language are to be heard here, and here we
take counsel on the best means for delivering Greece from the ever fresh
encroachments of her tyrants.

In a word, this house is the centre of attraction for all Hellenic
interests in Egypt, and of more importance to us politically, than our
temple, the Hellenion itself, and our hall of commerce.

In a few minutes you will see this remarkable grandmother, and, if we
should be here alone, perhaps the grandchild too; you will then at once
perceive that they owe everything to their own rare qualities and not to
the chances of good fortune. Ah! there they come! they are going towards
the house. Cannot you hear the slave-girls singing? Now they are going
in. First let them quietly be seated, then follow me, and when the
evening is over you shall say whether you repent of having come
hither, and whether Rhodopis resembles more nearly a queen or a freed
bond-woman."

The houses was built in the Grecian style. It was a rather long,
one-storied building, the outside of which would be called extremely
plain in the present day; within, it united the Egyptian brilliancy of
coloring with the Greek beauty of form. The principal door opened
into the entrance-hall. To the left of this lay a large dining-room,
overlooking the Nile, and, opposite to this last was the kitchen, an
apartment only to be found in the houses of the wealthier Greeks, the
poorer families being accustomed to prepare their food at the hearth in
the front apartment. The hall of reception lay at the other end of the
entrance-hall, and was in the form of a square, surrounded within by a
colonnade, into which various chambers opened. This was the apartment
devoted to the men, in the centre of which was the household fire,
burning on an altar-shaped hearth of rich AEginetan metal-work.

It was lighted by an opening in the roof, which formed at the same time,
an outlet for the smoke. From this room (at the opposite end to that
on which it opened into the entrance-hall), a passage, closed by a
well-fastened door, led into the chamber of the women. This was also
surrounded by a colonnade within, but only on three sides, and here
the female inhabitants were accustomed to pass their time, when not
employed, spinning or weaving, in the rooms lying near the back or
garden-door as it was termed. Between these latter and the domestic
offices, which lay on the right and left of the women's apartment, were
the sleeping-rooms; these served also as places of security for the
valuables of the house. The walls of the men's apartment were painted of
a reddish-brown color, against which the outlines of some white marble
carvings, the gift of a Chian sculptor, stood out in sharp relief.
The floor was covered with rich carpets from Sardis; low cushions of
panthers' skins lay ranged along the colonnade; around the
artistically wrought hearth stood quaint Egyptian settees, and small,
delicately-carved tables of Thya wood, on which lay all kinds of musical
instruments, the flute, cithara and lyre. Numerous lamps of various
and singular shapes, filled with Kiki oil, hung against the walls. Some
represented fire-spouting dolphins; others, strange winged monsters from
whose jaws the flames issued; and these, blending their light with that
from the hearth, illumined the apartment.

In this room a group of men were assembled, whose appearance and dress
differed one from the other. A Syrian from Tyre, in a long crimson robe,
was talking animatedly to a man whose decided features and crisp, curly,
black hair proclaimed him an Israelite. The latter had come to Egypt
to buy chariots and horses for Zerubbabel, the governor of Judah--the
Egyptian equipages being the most sought after at that time. Close to
him stood three Greeks from Asia Minor, the rich folds of whose
garments (for they wore the costly dress of their native city Miletus),
contrasted strongly with the plain and unadorned robe of Phryxus, the
deputy commissioned to collect money for the temple of Apollo at Delphi,
with whom they were in earnest conversation. Ten years before, the
ancient temple had been consumed by fire; and at this time efforts were
being made to build another, and a more beautiful one.

Two of the Milesians, disciples of Anaximander and Anaximenes, were
staying then in Egypt, to study astronomy and the peculiar wisdom of
the Egyptians at Heliopolis, and the third was a wealthy merchant and
ship-owner, named Theopompus, who had settled at Naukratis.

   [Anaximander of Miletus, born 611-546, was a celebrated
   geometrician, astronomer, philosopher and geographer. He was the
   author of a book on natural phenomena, drew the first map of the
   world on metal, and introduced into Greece a kind of clock which he
   seems to have borrowed from the Babylonians. He supposes a primary
   and not easily definable Being, by which the whole world is
   governed, and in which, though in himself infinite and without
   limits, everything material and circumscribed has its foundation.
   "Chaotic matter" represents in his theory the germ of all created
   things, from which water, earth, animals, nereids or fish-men, human
   beings &c. have had their origin.]

Rhodopis herself was engaged in a lively conversation with two Samian
Greeks: the celebrated worker in metals, sculptor and goldsmith
Theodorus, and the Iambic poet Ibykus of Rhegium, who had left the court
of Polykrates for a time in order to become acquainted with Egypt, and
were bearers of presents to Amasis from their ruler. Close to the fire
lay Philoinus of Sybaris, a corpulent man with strongly-marked features
and a sensual expression of face; he was stretched at full-length on a
couch covered with spotted furs, and amused himself by playing with his
scented curls wreathed with gold, and with the golden chains which fell
from his neck on to the long saffron-colored robe that clothed him down
to his feet.

   [Sybaris was a town in Lower Italy notorious throughout the ancient
   world for its luxury. According to Strabo it was founded by
   Achaeans 262. About 510 it was conquered and destroyed by the
   Crotoniates and then rebuilt under the name of Thurii.]

Rhodopis had a kind word for each of her guests, but at present she
occupied herself exclusively with the two celebrated Sarnians; their
talk was of art and poetry. The fire of youth still glowed in the eyes
of the Thracian woman, her tall figure was still full and unbent;
her hair, though grey, was wound round her beautifully formed head in
luxuriant waves, and laid together at the back in a golden net, and a
sparkling diadem shone above her lofty forehead.

Her noble Greek features were pale, but still beautiful and without a
wrinkle, notwithstanding her great age; indeed her small mouth with its
full lips, her white teeth, her eyes so bright and yet so soft, and her
nobly-formed nose and forehead would have been beauty enough for a young
maiden.

Rhodopis looked younger than she really was, though she made no attempt
to disavow her age. Matronly dignity was visible in every movement, and
the charm of her manner lay, not in a youthful endeavor to be pleasing,
but in the effort of age to please others, considering their wishes, and
at the same time demanding consideration in return.

Our two friends now presenting themselves in the hall, every eye turned
upon them, and as Phanes entered leading his friend by the hand, the
heartiest welcome met him from all sides; one of the Milesians indeed
exclaimed: "Now I see what it is that was wanting to our assembly. There
can be no merriment without Phanes."

And Philoinus, the Sybarite, raising his deep voice, but not allowing
himself for a moment to be disturbed in his repose, remarked: "Mirth
is a good thing, and if you bring that with you, be welcome to me also,
Athenian."

"To me," said Rhodopis, turning to her new guests, "you are heartily
welcome, but not more in your joy than if borne down by sadness. I know
no greater pleasure than to remove the lines of care from a friend's
brow. Spartan, I venture to address you as a friend too, for the friends
of my friends are my own." Aristomachus bowed in silence, but Phanes,
addressing himself both to Rhodopis and to the Sybarite, answered: "Well
then, my friends, I can content you both. To you, Rhodopis, I must
come for comfort, for soon, too soon I must leave you and your pleasant
house; Philoinus however can still enjoy my mirth, as I cannot but
rejoice in the prospect of seeing my beloved Hellas once more, and
of quitting, even though involuntarily, this golden mouse-trap of a
country."

"You are going away! you have been dismissed? Whither are you going?"
echoed on all sides.

"Patience, patience, my friends," cried Phanes. "I have a long story
to tell, but I will rather reserve it for the evening meal. And indeed,
dear friend, my hunger is nearly as great as my distress at being
obliged to leave you."

"Hunger is a good thing," philosophized the Sybarite once more, "when a
man has a good meal in prospect."

"On that point you may be at ease, Philoinus," answered Rhodopis. "I
told the cook to do his utmost, for the most celebrated epicure from
the most luxurious city in the world, no less a person than Philoinus
of Sybaris, would pass a stern judgment on his delicate dishes.
Go, Knakias, tell them to serve the supper. Are you content now, my
impatient guests? As for me, since I heard Phanes' mournful news, the
pleasure of the meal is gone." The Athenian bowed, and the Sybarite
returned to his philosophy. "Contentment is a good thing when every wish
can be satisfied. I owe you thanks, Rhodopis, for your appreciation of
my incomparable native city. What says Anakreon?

          "To-day is ours--what do we fear?
          To-day is ours--we have it here.
          Let's treat it kindly, that it may
          Wish at least with us to stay.
          Let's banish business, banish sorrow;
          To the gods belongs to-morrow."

"Eh! Ibykus, have I quoted your friend the poet correctly, who feasts
with you at Polykrates' banquets? Well, I think I may venture to say of
my own poor self that if Anakreon can make better verses, I understand
the art of living quite as well as he, though he writes so many poems
upon it. Why, in all his songs there is not one word about the pleasures
of the table! Surely they are as important as love and play! I confess
that the two last are clear to me also; still, I could exist without
them, though in a miserable fashion, but without food, where should we
be?"

The Sybarite broke into a loud laugh at his own joke; but the Spartan
turned away from this conversation, drew Phryxus into a corner, and
quite abandoning his usually quiet and deliberate manner, asked eagerly
whether he had at last brought him the long wished for answer from the
Oracle. The serious features of the Delphian relaxed, and thrusting
his hand into the folds of his chiton,--[An undergarment resembling a
shirt.]--he drew out a little roll of parchment-like sheepskin, on which
a few lines were written.

The hands of the brave, strong Spartan trembled as he seized the roll,
and his fixed gaze on its characters was as if it would pierce the skin
on which they were inscribed.

Then, recollecting himself, he shook his head sadly and said: "We
Spartans have to learn other arts than reading and writing; if thou
canst, read the what Pythia says."

The Delphian glanced over the writing and replied: "Rejoice! Loxias
(Apollo) promises thee a happy return home; hearken to the prediction of
the priestess."

  "If once the warrior hosts from the snow-topped mountains descending
   Come to the fields of the stream watering richly the plain,
   Then shall the lingering boat to the beckoning meadows convey thee
   Which to the wandering foot peace and a home will afford.
   When those warriors come, from the snow-topped mountains descending,
   Then will the powerful Five grant thee what long they refused."

To these words the Spartan listened with intense eagerness; he had them
read over to him twice, then repeated them from memory, thanked Phryxus,
and placed the roll within the folds of his garment.

The Delphian then took part in the general conversation, but
Aristomachus repeated the words of the Oracle unceasingly to himself in
a low voice, endeavoring to impress them on his memory, and to interpret
their obscure import.




CHAPTER II.

The doors of the supper-room now flew open. Two lovely, fair-haired
boys, holding myrtle-wreaths, stood on each side of the entrance, and
in the middle of the room was a large, low, brilliantly polished table,
surrounded by inviting purple cushions.

   [It was most probably usual for each guest to have his own little
   table; but we read even in Homer of large tables on which the meals
   were served up. In the time of Homer people sat at table, but the
   recumbent position became universal in later times.]

Rich nosegays adorned this table, and on it were placed large joints
of roast meat, glasses and dishes of various shapes filled with dates,
figs, pomegranates, melons and grapes, little silver beehives containing
honey, and plates of embossed copper, on which lay delicate cheese
from the island of Trinakria. In the midst was a silver table-ornament,
something similar to an altar, from which arose fragrant clouds of
incense.

At the extreme end of the table stood the glittering silver cup in which
the wine was to be mixed.

   [The Greeks were not accustomed to drink unmingled wine. Zaleukus
   forbade to all citizens the pure juice of the grape under penalty of
   death, and Solon under very severe penalties, unless required as
   medicine. The usual mixture was composed of three-fifths water to
   two-fifths wine.]

This was of beautiful AEginetan workmanship, its crooked handles
representing two giants, who appeared ready to sink under the weight of
the bowl which they sustained.

Like the altar, it was enwreathed with flowers, and a garland of roses
or myrtle had been twined around the goblet of each guest.

The entire floor was strewed with rose-leaves, and the room lighted by
many lamps which were hung against the smooth, white, stucco walls.

No sooner were the guests reclining on their cushions, than the
fair-haired boys reappeared, wound garlands of ivy and myrtle around the
heads and shoulders of the revellers, and washed their feet in silver
basins. The Sybarite, though already scented with all the perfumes of
Arabia, would not rest until he was completely enveloped in roses and
myrtle, and continued to occupy the two boys even after the carver had
removed the first joints from the table in order to cut them up; but
as soon as the first course, tunny-fish with mustard-sauce, had been
served, he forgot all subordinate matters, and became absorbed in the
enjoyment of the delicious viands.

Rhodopis, seated on a chair at the head of the table, near the
wine-bowl, not only led the conversation, but gave directions to the
slaves in waiting.

   [The women took their meals sitting. The Greeks, like the
   Egyptians, had chairs with backs and arms. The form of the solia or
   throne has become familiar to us from the discoveries at Pompeii and
   the representations of many gods and distinguished persons. It had
   a high, almost straight back, and supports for the arms.]

She gazed on her cheerful guests with a kind of pride, and seemed to be
devoting her attention to each exclusively, now asking the Delphian
how he had succeeded in his mission, then the Sybarite whether he was
content with the performances of her cook, and then listening eagerly
to Ibykus, as he told how the Athenian, Phrynichus, had introduced the
religious dramas of Thespis of Ikaria into common life, and was now
representing entire histories from the past by means of choruses,
recitative and answer.

Then she turned to the Spartan, remarking, that to him alone of all her
guests, instead of an apology for the simplicity of the meal, she felt
she owed one for its luxury. The next time he came, her slave Knakias,
who, as an escaped Helot, boasted that he could cook a delicious
blood-soup (here the Sybarite shuddered), should prepare him a true
Lacedaemonian repast.

When the guests had eaten sufficiently they again washed their hands;
the plates and dishes were removed, the floor cleansed, and wine and
water poured into the bowl.

   [The Symposium began after the real meal. Not till that was over
   did the guests usually adorn themselves with wreaths, wash their
   hands with Smegma or Smema (a kind of soap) and begin to drink.]

At last, when Rhodopis had convinced herself that the right moment was
come, she turned to Phanes, who was engaged in a discussion with the
Milesians, and thus addressed him:

"Noble friend, we have restrained our impatience so long that it must
surely now be your duty to tell us what evil chance is threatening to
snatch you from Egypt and from our circle. You may be able to leave us
and this country with a light heart, for the gods are wont to bless
you Ionians with that precious gift from your very birth, but we shall
remember you long and sadly. I know of no worse loss than that of a
friend tried through years, indeed some of us have lived too long on the
Nile not to have imbibed a little of the constant, unchanging Egyptian
temperament. You smile, and yet I feel sure that long as you have
desired to revisit your dear Hellas, you will not be able to leave us
quite without regret. Ah, you admit this? Well, I knew I had not been
deceived. But now tell us why you are obliged to leave Egypt, that we
may consider whether it may not be possible to get the king's decree
reversed, and so keep you with us."

Phanes smiled bitterly, and replied: "Many thanks, Rhodopis, for these
flattering words, and for the kind intention either to grieve over my
departure, or if possible, to prevent it. A hundred new faces will soon
help you to forget mine, for long as you have lived on the Nile, you are
still a Greek from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot, and
may thank the gods that you have remained so. I am a great friend of
constancy too, but quite as great an enemy of folly, and is there
one among you who would not call it folly to fret over what cannot be
undone? I cannot call the Egyptian constancy a virtue, it is a delusion.
The men who treasure their dead for thousands of years, and would rather
lose their last loaf than allow a single bone belonging to one of their
ancestors to be taken from them, are not constant, they are foolish. Can
it possibly make me happy to see my friends sad? Certainly not! You must
not imitate the Egyptians, who, when they lose a friend, spend months
in daily-repeated lamentations over him. On the contrary, if you will
sometimes think of the distant, I ought to say, of the departed, friend,
(for as long as I live I shall never be permitted to tread Egyptian
ground again), let it be with smiling faces; do not cry, 'Ah! why was
Phanes forced to leave us?' but rather, 'Let us be merry, as Phanes used
to be when he made one of our circle!' In this way you must celebrate my
departure, as Simonides enjoined when he sang:

       "If we would only be more truly wise,
        We should not waste on death our tears and sighs,
        Nor stand and mourn o'er cold and lifeless clay
        More than one day.

        For Death, alas! we have no lack of time;
        But Life is gone, when scarcely at its prime,
        And is e'en, when not overfill'd with care
        But short and bare!"

"If we are not to weep for the dead, how much less ought we to grieve
for absent friends! the former have left us for ever, but to the latter
we say at parting, 'Farewell, until we meet again'"

Here the Sybarite, who had been gradually becoming more and more
impatient, could not keep silent any longer, and called out in the most
woe begone tone: "Will you never begin your story, you malicious fellow?
I cannot drink a single drop till you leave off talking about death. I
feel cold already, and I am always ill, if I only think of, nay, if I
only hear the subject mentioned, that this life cannot last forever."
The whole company burst into a laugh, and Phanes began to tell his
story:

"You know that at Sais I always live in the new palace; but at Memphis,
as commander of the Greek body-guard which must accompany the king
everywhere, a lodging was assigned me in the left wing of the old
palace.

"Since Psamtik the First, Sais has always been the royal residence,
and the other palaces have in consequence become somewhat neglected. My
dwelling was really splendidly situated, and beautifully furnished; it
would have been first-rate, if, from the first moment of my entrance, a
fearful annoyance had not made its appearance.

"In the day-time, when I was seldom at home, my rooms were all that
could be wished, but at night it was impossible to sleep for the
tremendous noise made by thousands of rats and mice under the old
floors, and couches, and behind the hangings.

"Even in the first night an impudent mouse ran over my face.

"I was quite at a loss what to do, till an Egyptian soldier sold me two
large cats, and these, in the course of many weeks, procured me some
rest from my tormentors.

"Now, you are probably all aware that one of the charming laws of this
most eccentric nation, (whose culture and wisdom, you, my Milesian
friends, cannot sufficiently praise), declares the cat to be a sacred
animal. Divine honors are paid to these fortunate quadrupeds as well as
to many other animals, and he who kills a cat is punished with the same
severity as the murderer of a human being."

Till now Rhodopis had been smiling, but when she perceived that Phanes'
banishment had to do with his contempt for the sacred animals, her face
became more serious. She knew how many victims, how many human lives,
had already been sacrificed to this Egyptian superstition, and how, only
a short time before, the king Amasis himself had endeavored in vain to
rescue an unfortunate Samian, who had killed a cat, from the vengeance
of the enraged populace.

   [The cat was probably the most sacred of all the animals worshipped
   by the Egyptians. Herod tells that when a house was on fire the
   Egyptians never thought of extinguishing the fire until their cats
   were all saved, and that when a cat died, they shaved their heads in
   sign of mourning. Whoever killed one of these animals, whether
   intentionally or by accident, suffered the penalty, of death,
   without any chance of mercy. Diod. (I. 81.) himself witnessed the
   murder of a Roman citizen who had killed a cat, by the Egyptian
   people; and this in spite of the authorities, who in fear of the
   powerful Romans, endeavored to prevent the deed. The bodies of the
   cats were carefully embalmed and buried, and their mummies are to be
   found in every museum. The embalmed cat, carefully wrapped in linen
   bandages, is oftener to be met with than any other of the many
   animals thus preserved by the Egyptians. In spite of the great care
   bestowed on cats, there can have been no lack of mice in Egypt. In
   one nomos or province the shrew-mouse was sacred, and a satirical,
   obscene papyrus in Turin shows us a war between the cats and mice;
   the Papyrus Ebers contains poisons for mice. We ourselves possess a
   shrew-mouse exquisitely wrought in bronze.]

"Everything was going well," continued the officer, "when we left
Memphis two years ago.

"I confided my pair of cats to the care of one of the Egyptian servants
at the palace, feeling sure that these enemies of the rats would keep
my dwelling clear for the future; indeed I began to feel a certain
veneration for my deliverers from the plague of mice.

"Last year Amasis fell ill before the court could adjourn to Memphis,
and we remained at Sais.

"At last, about six week ago, we set out for the city of the Pyramids. I
betook me to my old quarters; not the shadow of a mouse's tail was to be
seen there, but instead, they swarmed with another race of animals not
one whit dearer to me than their predecessors. The pair of cats had,
during my two years' absence, increased twelve-fold. I tried all in my
power to dislodge this burdensome brood of all ages and colors, but
in vain; every night my sleep was disturbed by horrible choruses of
four-footed animals, and feline war-cries and songs.

"Every year, at the period of the Bubastis festival, all superfluous
cats may be brought to the temple of the cat-headed goddess Pacht, where
they are fed and cared for, or, as I believe, when they multiply too
fast, quietly put out of the way. These priests are knaves!

"Unfortunately the journey to the said temple" did not occur during the
time of our stay in Memphis; however, as I really could not tolerate
this army of tormentors any longer, I determined at least to get rid
of two families of healthy kittens with which their mothers had just
presented me. My old slave Mus, from his very name a natural enemy of
cats, was told to kill the little creatures, put them into a sack, and
throw them into the Nile.

"This murder was necessary, as the mewing of the kittens would otherwise
have betrayed the contents of the sack to the palace-warders. In the
twilight poor Muss betook himself to the Nile through the grove of
Hathor, with his perilous burden. But alas! the Egyptian attendant who
was in the habit of feeding my cats, had noticed that two families of
kittens were missing, and had seen through our whole plan.

"My slave took his way composedly through the great avenue of Sphinxes,
and by the temple of Ptah, holding the little bag concealed under
his mantle. Already in the sacred grove he noticed that he was being
followed, but on seeing that the men behind him stopped before the
temple of Ptah and entered into conversation with the priests, he felt
perfectly reassured and went on.

"He had already reached the bank of the Nile, when he heard voices
calling him and a number of people running towards him in haste; at the
same moment a stone whistled close by his head.

"Mus at once perceived the danger which was threatening him. Summoning
all his strength he rushed down to the Nile, flung the bag in, and then
with a beating heart, but as he imagined without the slightest evidence
of guilt, remained standing on the shore. A few moments later he was
surrounded by at least a hundred priests.

"Even the high-priest of Ptah, my old enemy Ptahotep, had not disdained
to follow the pursuers in person.

"Many of the latter, and amongst them the perfidious palace-servant,
rushed at once into the Nile, and there, to our confusion, found the
bag with its twelve little corpses, hanging entirely uninjured among the
Papyrus-reeds and bean-tendrils. The cotton coffin was opened before
the eyes of the high-priest, a troop of lower priests, and at least a
thousand of the inhabitants of Memphis, who had hurried to the spot,
and when the miserable contents were disclosed, there arose such fearful
howls of anguish, and such horrible cries of mingled lamentation and
revenge, that I heard them even in the palace.

"The furious multitude, in their wild rage, fell on my poor servant,
threw him down, trampled on him and would have killed him, had not
the all-powerful high-priest-designing to involve me, as author of the
crime, in the same ruin--commanded them to cease and take the wretched
malefactor to prison.

"Half an hour later I was in prison too.

"My old Mus took all the guilt of the crime on himself, until at last,
by means of the bastinado, the high-priest forced him to confess that
I had ordered the killing of the kittens, and that he, as a faithful
servant, had not dared to disobey.

"The supreme court of justice, whose decisions the king himself has no
power to reverse, is composed of priests from Memphis, Heliopolis and
Thebes: you can therefore easily believe that they had no scruple in
pronouncing sentence of death on poor Mus and my own unworthy Greek
self. The slave was pronounced guilty of two capital offences: first,
of the murder of the sacred animals, and secondly, of a twelve-fold
pollution of the Nile through dead bodies. I was condemned as originator
of this, (as they termed it) four-and-twenty-fold crime.

   [According to the Egyptian law, the man who was cognizant of a crime
   was held equally culpable with the perpetrator.]

"Mus was executed on the same day. May the earth rest lightly on him!
I shall never think of him again as my slave, but as a friend and
benefactor! My sentence of death was read aloud in the presence of
his dead body, and I was already preparing for a long journey into the
nether world, when the king sent and commanded a reprieve.

   [This court of justice, which may be compared with the Areopagus at
   Athens, and the Gerusia at Sparta, (Diod. I, 75.), was composed of
   30 judges taken from the priestly caste, (10 from Heliopolis, 10
   from Memphis, 10 from Thebes). The most eminent from among their
   number was chosen by them as president. All complaints and defences
   had to be presented in writing, that the judges might in no way be
   influenced by word or gesture. This tribunal was independent, even
   of the king's authority. Much information concerning the
   administration of justice has been obtained from the Papyrus Abbott,
   known by the name of the 'Papyrus judiciaire'. Particulars and an
   account of their literature may be found in Ebers "Durch Gosen zum
   Sinai," p. 534 and following.]

"I was taken back to prison. One of my guards, an Arcadian Taxiarch,
told me that all the officers of the guard and many of the soldiers,
(altogether four thousand men) had threatened to send in their
resignation, unless I, their commander, were pardoned.

"As it was beginning to grow dusk I was taken to the king.

"He received me graciously, confirmed the Taxiarch's statement with
his own mouth, and said how grieved he should be to lose a commander so
generally beloved. I must confess that I owe Amasis no grudge for his
conduct to me, on the contrary I pity him. You should have heard how he,
the powerful king, complained that he could never act according to his
own wishes, that even in his most private affairs he was crossed and
compromised by the priests and their influence.

   [See the parallel in the history of 2000 years later in the reigns
   of Henry III. and IV. confronting the Jesuit influence, finally
   culminating in assassination. D.W.]

"Had it only depended on himself, he could easily have pardoned the
transgression of a law, which I, as a foreigner, could not be expected
to understand, and might (though unjustly) esteem as a foolish
superstition. But for the sake of the priests he dare not leave me
unpunished. The lightest penalty he could inflict must be banishment
from Egypt.

"He concluded his complaint with these words: 'You little know what
concessions I must make to the priests in order to obtain your pardon.
Why, our supreme court of justice is independent even of me, its king!'

"And thus I received my dismissal, after having taken a solemn oath to
leave Memphis that very day, and Egypt, at latest, in three weeks.

"At the palace-gate I met Psamtik, the crown-prince. He has long been my
enemy, on account of some vexatious matters which I cannot divulge, (you
know them, Rhodopis). I was going to offer him my parting salutation,
but he turned his back upon me, saying: Once more you have escaped
punishment, Athenian; but you cannot elude my vengeance. Whithersoever
you may go, I shall be able to find you!'--'That remains to be proved,'
I answered, and putting myself and my possessions on board a boat, came
to Naukratis. Here, by good fortune, I met my old friend Aristomachus of
Sparta, who, as he was formerly in command of the Cyprian troops, will
most likely be nominated my successor. I should rejoice to know that
such a first-rate man was going to take my place, if I did not at the
same time fear that his eminent services will make my own poor efforts
seem even more insignificant than they really were."

But here he was interrupted by Aristomachus, who called out: "Praise
enough, friend Phanes! Spartan tongues are stiff; but if you should
ever stand in need of my help, I will give you an answer in deeds, which
shall strike the right nail on the head."

Rhodopis smiled her approval, and giving her hand to each, said:
"Unfortunately, the only conclusion to be drawn from your story, my poor
Phanes, is that you cannot possibly remain any longer in this country. I
will not blame you for your thoughtlessness, though you might have known
that you were exposing yourself to great danger for a mere trifle.
The really wise and brave man never undertakes a hazardous enterprise,
unless the possible advantage and disadvantage that may accrue to him
from it can be reckoned at least as equal. Recklessness is quite as
foolish, but not so blamable as cowardice, for though both do the man an
injury, the latter alone can dishonor him.

"Your thoughtlessness, this time, has very nearly cost your life, a life
dear to many, and which you ought to save for a nobler end. We cannot
attempt to keep you here; we should thereby only injure ourselves
without benefitting you. This noble Spartan must now take your place as
head and representative of the Greek nation at the Egyptian court, must
endeavor to protect us against the encroachment of the priests, and to
retain for us the royal favor. I take your hand, Aristomachus, and
will not let it go till you have promised that you will protect, to the
utmost of your power, every Greek, however humble, (as Phanes did before
you), from the insolence of the Egyptians, and will sooner resign your
office than allow the smallest wrong done to a Hellene to go unpunished.
We are but a few thousands among millions of enemies, but through
courage we are great, and unity must keep us strong. Hitherto the Greeks
in Egypt have lived like brothers; each has been ready to offer himself
for the good of all, and all for each, and it is just this unity that
has made us, and must keep us, powerful.

"Oh! could we but bestow this precious gift on our mother-country and
her colonies! would the tribes of our native land but forget their
Dorian, Ionian or AEolian descent, and, contenting themselves with the
one name of Hellenes, live as the children of one family, as the sheep
of one flock,--then indeed we should be strong against the whole world,
and Hellas would be recognized by all nations as the Queen of the
Earth!"

   [This longing desire for unity was by no means foreign to the
   Greeks, though we seldom hear it expressed. Aristotle, for example,
   says VII. 7.: "Were the Hellenes united into one state, they could
   command all the barbarous nations."]

A fire glowed in the eyes of the grey-haired woman as she uttered these
words; and the Spartan, grasping her hand impetuously and stamping on
the floor with his wooden leg, cried: "By Zeus, I will not let a hair
of their heads be hurt; but thou, Rhodopis, thou art worthy to have been
born a Spartan woman."

"Or an Athenian," cried Phanes.

"An Ionian," said the Milesians, and the sculptor: "A daughter of the
Samian Geomori--"

"But I am more, far more, than all these," cried the enthusiastic woman.
"I am a Hellene!"

The whole company, even to the Jew and the Syrian, were carried away by
the intense feeling of the moment; the Sybarite alone remained
unmoved, and, with his mouth so full as to render the words almost
unintelligible, said:

"You deserve to be a Sybarite too, Rhodopis, for your roast beef is the
best I have tasted since I left Italy, and your Anthylla wine' relishes
almost as well as Vesuvian or Chian!"

Every one laughed, except the Spartan, who darted a look of indignation
and contempt at the epicure.

In this moment a deep voice, hitherto unknown to us, shouted suddenly
through the window, "A glad greeting to you, my friends!"

"A glad greeting," echoed the chorus of revellers, questioning and
guessing who this late arrival might prove to be.

They had not long to wait, for even before the Sybarite had had time
carefully to test and swallow another mouthful of wine, the speaker,
Kallias, the son of Phaenippus of Athens, was already standing by the
side of Rhodopis. He was a tall thin man of over sixty, with a head of
that oval form which gives the impression of refinement and intellect.
One of the richest among the Athenian exiles, he had twice bought the
possessions of Pisistratus from the state, and twice been obliged to
surrender them, on the tyrant's return to power. Looking round with his
clear keen eyes on this circle of acquaintances, he exchanged friendly
greetings with all, and exclaimed:

"If you do not set a high value on my appearance among you this evening,
I shall think that gratitude has entirely disappeared from the earth."

"We have been expecting you a long time," interrupted one of the
Milesians. "You are the first man to bring us news of the Olympic
games!"

"And we could wish no better bearer of such news than the victor
of former days?" added Rhodopis. "Take your seat," cried Phanes
impatiently, "and come to the point with your news at once, friend
Kallias."

"Immediately, fellow-countryman," answered the other. "It is some time
ago now since I left Olympia. I embarked at Cenchreae in a fifty-oared
Samian vessel, the best ship that ever was built.

"It does not surprise me that I am the first Greek to arrive in
Naukratis. We encountered terrific storms at sea, and could not have
escaped with our lives, if the big-bellied Samian galley, with her Ibis
beak and fish's tail had not been so splendidly timbered and manned.

"How far the other homeward-bound passengers may have been driven out
of their course, I cannot tell; we found shelter in the harbor of Samos,
and were able to put to sea again after ten days.

"We ran into the mouth of the Nile this morning. I went on board my own
bark at once, and was so favored by Boreas, who at least at the end of
my voyage, seemed willing to prove that he still felt kindly towards his
old Kallias, that I caught sight of this most friendly of all houses a
few moments since. I saw the waving flag, the brightly lighted windows,
and debated within myself whether to enter or not; but Rhodopis, your
fascination proved irresistible, and besides, I was bursting with all
my untold news, longing to share your feast, and to tell you, over the
viands and the wine, things that you have not even allowed yourselves to
dream of."

Kallias settled himself comfortably on one of the cushions, and before
beginning to tell his news, produced and presented to Rhodopis a
magnificent gold bracelet in the form of a serpent's, which he had
bought for a large sum at Samos, in the goldsmith's workshop of the very
Theodorus who was now sitting with him at table.

"This I have brought for you,"' he said, turning to the delighted
Rhodopis, "but for you, friend Phanes, I have something still better.
Guess, who won the four-horse chariot-race?"

"An Athenian?" asked Phanes, and his face glowed with excitement; for
the victory gained by one citizen at the Olympic games belonged to his
whole people, and the Olympic olive-branch was the greatest honor and
happiness that could fall to the lot, either of a single Hellene, or an
entire Greek tribe.

"Rightly guessed, Phanes!" cried the bringer of this joyful news, "The
first prize has been carried off by an Athenian; and not only so, your
own cousin Cimon, the son of Kypselos, the brother of that Miltiades,
who, nine Olympiads ago, earned us the same honor, is the man who has
conquered this year; and with the same steeds that gained him the prize
at the last games.

   [The second triumph won by the steeds of Cimon must have taken
   place, as Duneker correctly remarks, about the year 528. The same
   horses won the race for the third time at the next Olympic games,
   consequently four years later. As token of his gratitude Cimon
   caused a monument to be erected in their honor in "the hollow way"
   near Athens. We may here remind our readers that the Greeks made
   use of the Olympic games to determine the date of each year. They
   took place every four years. The first was fixed 776 B. C. Each
   separate year was named the 1st, 2nd, 3rd or 4th of such or such an
   Olympiad.]

"The fame of the Alkmaeonidae is, verily, darkening more and more before
the Philaidae. Are not you proud, Phanes? do not you feel joy at the
glory of your family?"

In his delight Phanes had risen from his seat, and seemed suddenly to
have increased in stature by a whole head.

With a look of ineffable pride and consciousness of his own position,
he gave his hand to the messenger of victory. The latter, embracing his
countryman, continued:

"Yes, we have a right to feel proud and happy, Phanes; you especially,
for no sooner had the judges unanimously awarded the prize to Cimon,
than he ordered the heralds to proclaim the tyrant Pisistratus as
the owner of the splendid team, and therefore victor in the race.
Pisistratus at once caused it to be announced that your family was free
to return to Athens, and so now, Phanes, the long-wished for hour of
your return home is awaiting you."

But at these words Phanes turned pale, his look of conscious pride
changed into one of indignation, and he exclaimed:

"At this I am to rejoice, foolish Kallias? rather bid me weep that a
descendant of Ajax should be capable of laying his well-won fame thus
ignominiously at a tyrant's feet! No! I swear by Athene, by Father Zeus,
and by Apollo, that I will sooner starve in foreign lands than take one
step homeward, so long as the Pisistratidae hold my country in bondage.
When I leave the service of Amasis, I shall be free, free as a bird in
the air; but I would rather be the slave of a peasant in foreign lands,
than hold the highest office under Pisistratus. The sovereign power in
Athens belongs to us, its nobles; but Cimon by laying his chaplet at the
feet of Pisistratus has acknowledged the tyrants, and branded himself as
their servant. He shall hear that Phanes cares little for the tyrant's
clemency. I choose to remain an exile till my country is free, till her
nobles and people govern themselves, and dictate their own laws. Phanes
will never do homage to the oppressor, though all the Philaidae, the
Alkmaeonidae, and even the men of your own house, Kallias, the rich
Daduchi, should fall down at his feet!"

With flashing eyes he looked round on the assembly; Kallias too
scrutinized the faces of the guests with conscious pride, as if he would
say:

"See, friends, the kind of men produced by my glorious country!"

Taking the hand of Phanes again, he said to him: "The tyrants are as
hateful to me as to you, my friend; but I have seen, that, so long
as Pisistratus lives, the tyranny cannot be overthrown. His allies,
Lygdamis of Naxos and Polykrates of Samos, are powerful; but the
greatest danger for our freedom lies in his own moderation and prudence.
During my recent stay in Greece I saw with alarm that the mass of the
people in Athens love their oppressor like a father. Notwithstanding
his great power, he leaves the commonwealth in the enjoyment of Solon's
constitution. He adorns the city with the most magnificent buildings.
They say that the new temple of Zeus, now being built of glorious marble
by Kallaeschrus, Antistates and Porinus (who must be known to you,
Theodorus), will surpass every building that has yet been erected by the
Hellenes. He understands how to attract poets and artists of all kinds
to Athens, he has had the poems of Homer put into writing, and the
prophecies of Musaeus collected by Onomakritus. He lays out new streets
and arranges fresh festivals; trade flourishes under his rule, and the
people find themselves well off, in spite of the many taxes laid upon
them. But what are the people? a vulgar multitude who, like the gnats,
fly towards every thing brilliant, and, so long as the taper burns, will
continue to flutter round it, even though they burn their wings in doing
so. Let Pisistratus' torch burn out, Phanes, and I'll swear that the
fickle crowd will flock around the returning nobles, the new light, just
as they now do around the tyrant.

"Give me your hand once more, you true son of Ajax; for you, my friends,
I have still many an interesting piece of news untold.

"The chariot-race, as I have just related, was won by Cimon who gave
the olive-branch to Pisistratus. Four finer horses than his I never
saw. Arkesilaus of Cyrene, Kleosthenes of Epidamnus, Aster of Sybaris,
Hekataeus of Miletus and many more had also sent splendid teams. Indeed
the games this time were more than brilliant. All Hellas had sent
deputies. Rhoda of the Ardeates, in distant Iberia, the wealthy
Tartessus, Sinope in the far East on the shores of Pontus, in short,
every tribe that could boast of Hellenic descent was well represented.
The Sybarite deputies were of a dazzling beauty; the Spartans, homely
and simple, but handsome as Achilles, tall and strong as Hercules; the
Athenians remarkable for their supple limbs and graceful movements,
and the men of Crotona were led by Milo, strongest of mortal birth. The
Samian and Milesian deputies vied in splendor and gorgeousness of attire
with those from Corinth and Mitylene: the flower of the Greek youth was
assembled there, and, in the space allotted to spectators, were seated,
not only men of every age, class and nation, but many virgins, fair and
lovely maidens, who had come to Olympia, more especially from Sparta,
in order to encourage the men during the games by their acclamations and
applause. The market was set up beyond the Alphaeus, and there traders
from all parts of the world were to be seen; Greeks, Carthaginians,
Lydians, Phrygians and shrewd Phoenicians from Palestine settled weighty
business transactions, or offered their goods to the public from tents
and booths. But how can I possibly describe to you the surging throngs
of the populace, the echoing choruses, the smoking festal hecatombs, the
bright and variegated costumes, the sumptuousness of the equipages, the
clang of the different dialects and the joyful cries of friends meeting
again after years of separation; or the splendid appearance of the
envoys, the crowds of lookers-on and venders of small wares, the
brilliant effect produced by the masses of spectators, who filled to
overflowing the space allotted to them, the eager suspense during the
progress of the games, and the never ending shouts of joy when the
victory was decided; the solemn investiture with the olive-branch,
cut with a golden knife by the Elean boy, (whose parents must both be
living), from the sacred tree in the Altis planted so many centuries ago
by Hercules himself; or lastly, the prolonged acclamations which,
like peals of thunder, resounded in the Stadium, when Milo of Crotona
appeared, bearing on his shoulders the bronze statue of himself cast by
Dameas, and carried it through the Stadium into the Altis without once
tottering. The weight of the metal would have crushed a bull to the
earth: but borne by Milo it seemed like a child in the arms of its
Lacedaemonian nurse.

"The highest honors (after Cimon's) were adjudged to a pair of Spartan
brothers, Lysander and Maro, the sons of Aristomachus. Maro was victor
in the foot race, but Lysander presented himself, amidst the shouts of
the spectators, as the opponent of Milo! Milo the invincible, victor
at Pisa, and in the Pythian and Isthmian combats. Milo was taller and
stouter than the Spartan, who was formed like Apollo, and seemed from
his great youth scarcely to have passed from under the hands of the
schoolmaster.

"In their naked beauty, glistening with the golden oil, the youth
and the man stood opposite to one another, like a panther and a lion
preparing for the combat. Before the onset, the young Lysander raised
his hands imploringly to the gods, crying: 'For my father, my honor,
and the glory of Sparta!' The Crotonian looked down on the youth with
a smile of superiority; just as an epicure looks at the shell of the
languste he is preparing to open.

"And now the wrestling began. For some time neither could succeed in
grasping the other. The Crotonian threw almost irresistible weight into
his attempts to lay hold of his opponent, but the latter slipped through
the iron grip like a snake. This struggle to gain a hold lasted long,
and the immense multitude watched silently, breathless from excitement.
Not a sound was to be heard but the groans of the wrestlers and the
singing of the nightingales in the grove of the Altis. At last, the
youth succeeded, by means of the cleverest trick I ever saw, in clasping
his opponent firmly. For a long time, Milo exerted all his strength
to shake him oft, but in vain, and the sand of the Stadium was freely
moistened by the great drops of sweat, the result of this Herculean
struggle.

"More and more intense waxed the excitement of the spectators, deeper
and deeper the silence, rarer the cries of encouragement, and louder
the groans of the wrestlers. At last Lysander's strength gave way.
Immediately a thousand voices burst forth to cheer him on. He roused
himself and made one last superhuman effort to throw his adversary:
but it was too late. Milo had perceived the momentary weakness. Taking
advantage of it, he clasped the youth in a deadly embrace; a full black
stream of blood welled from Lysander's beautiful lips, and he sank
lifeless to the earth from the wearied arms of the giant. Democedes, the
most celebrated physician of our day, whom you Samians will have known
at the court of Polycrates, hastened to the spot, but no skill could now
avail the happy Lysander,--he was dead.

"Milo was obliged to forego the victor's wreath"; and the fame of this
youth will long continue to sound through the whole of Greece.

   [By the laws of the games the wrestler, whose adversary died, had no
   right to the prize of victory.]

I myself would rather be the dead Lysander, son of Aristomachus, than
the living Kallias growing old in inaction away from his country.
Greece, represented by her best and bravest, carried the youth to his
grave, and his statue is to be placed in the Altis by those of Milo of
Crotona and Praxidamas of AEgina". At length the heralds proclaimed the
sentence of the judges: 'To Sparta be awarded a victor's wreath for the
dead, for the noble Lysander hath been vanquished, not by Milo, but by
Death, and he who could go forth unconquered from a two hours' struggle
with the strongest of all Greeks, hath well deserved the olive-branch.'"

Here Kallias stopped a moment in his narrative. During his animated
description of these events, so precious to every Greek heart, he had
forgotten his listeners, and, gazing into vacancy, had seen only the
figures of the wrestlers as they rose before his remembrance. Now, on
looking round, he perceived, to his astonishment, that the grey-haired
man with the wooden leg, whom he had already noticed, though without
recognizing him, had hidden his face in his hands and was weeping.
Rhodopis was standing at his right hand. Phanes at his left, and the
other guests were gazing at the Spartan, as if he had been the hero of
Kallias's tale. In a moment the quick Athenian perceived that the aged
man must stand in some very near relation to one or other of the victors
at Olympia; but when he heard that he was Aristomachus-the father of
that glorious pair of brothers, whose wondrous forms were constantly
hovering before his eyes like visions sent down from the abodes of the
gods, then he too gazed on the sobbing old man with mingled envy and
admiration, and made no effort to restrain the tears which rushed into
his own eyes, usually so clear and keen. In those days men wept, as well
as women, hoping to gain relief from the balm of their own tears. In
wrath, in ecstasy of delight, in every deep inward anguish, we find the
mighty heroes weeping, while, on the other hand, the Spartan boys would
submit to be scourged at the altar of Artemis Orthia, and would bleed
and even die under the lash without uttering a moan, in order to obtain
the praise of the men.

For a time every one remained silent, out of respect to the old man's
emotion. But at last the stillness was broken by Joshua the Jew, who
began thus, in broken Greek:

"Weep thy fill, O man of Sparta! I also have known what it is to lose
a son. Eleven years have passed since I buried him in the land of
strangers, by the waters of Babylon, where my people pined in captivity.
Had yet one year been added unto the life of the beautiful child, he
had died in his own land, and had been buried in the sepulchres of his
fathers. But Cyrus the Persian (Jehovah bless his posterity!) released
us from bondage one year too late, and therefore do I weep doubly for
this my son, in that he is buried among the enemies of my people Israel.
Can there be an evil greater than to behold our children, who are unto
us as most precious treasure, go down into the grave before us? And, may
the Lord be gracious unto me, to lose so noble a son, in the dawn of his
early manhood, just at the moment he had won such brilliant renown, must
indeed be a bitter grief, a grief beyond all others!"

Then the Spartan took away his hands from before his face; he was
looking stern, but smiled through his tears, and answered:

"Phoenician, you err! I weep not for anguish, but for joy, and would
have gladly lost my other son, if he could have died like my Lysander."

The Jew, horrified at these, to him, sinful and unnatural words, shook
his head disapprovingly; but the Greeks overwhelmed the old man with
congratulations, deeming him much to be envied. His great happiness
made Aristomachus look younger by many years, and he cried to Rhodopis:
"Truly, my friend, your house is for me a house of blessing; for this
is the second gift that the gods have allowed to fall to my lot, since
I entered it."--"What was the first?" asked Rhodopis. "A propitious
oracle."--"But," cried Phanes, "you have forgotten the third; on this
day the gods have blessed you with the acquaintance of Rhodopis. But,
tell me, what is this about the oracle?"--"May I repeat it to our
friends?" asked the Delphian.

Aristomachus nodded assent, and Phryxus read aloud a second time the
answer of the Pythia:

  "If once the warrior hosts from the snow-topped mountains descending
   Come to the fields of the stream watering richly the plain,
   Then shall the lingering boat to the beckoning meadows convey thee
   Which to the wandering foot peace and a home will afford.
   When those warriors come from the snow-topped mountains descending
   Then will the powerful Five grant thee what they long refused."

Scarcely was the last word out of his mouth, when Kallias the Athenian,
springing up, cried: "In this house, too, you shall receive from me the
fourth gift of the gods. Know that I have kept my rarest news till last:
the Persians are coming to Egypt!"

At this every one, except the Sybarite, rushed to his feet, and Kallias
found it almost impossible to answer their numerous questions. "Gently,
gently, friends," he cried at last; "let me tell my story in order, or
I shall never finish it at all. It is not an army, as Phanes supposes,
that is on its way hither, but a great embassy from Cambyses, the
present ruler of the most powerful kingdom of Persia. At Samos I heard
that they had already reached Miletus, and in a few days they will be
here. Some of the king's own relations, are among the number, the aged
Croesus, king of Lydia, too; we shall behold a marvellous splendor
and magnificence! Nobody knows the object of their coming, but it is
supposed that King Cambyses wishes to conclude an alliance with Amasis;
indeed some say the king solicits the hand of Pharaoh's daughter."

"An alliance?" asked Phanes, with an incredulous shrug of the shoulders.
"Why the Persians are rulers over half the world already. All the
great Asiatic powers have submitted to their sceptre; Egypt and our own
mother-country, Hellas, are the only two that have been shared by the
conqueror."

"You forget India with its wealth of gold, and the great migratory
nations of Asia," answered Kallias. "And you forget moreover, that
an empire, composed like Persia of some seventy nations or tribes of
different languages and customs, bears the seeds of discord ever within
itself, and must therefore guard against the chance of foreign attack;
lest, while the bulk of the army be absent, single provinces should
seize the opportunity and revolt from their allegiance. Ask the
Milesians how long they would remain quiet if they heard that their
oppressors had been defeated in any battle?"

Theopompus, the Milesian merchant, called out, laughing at the same
time: "If the Persians were to be worsted in one war, they would at once
be involved in a hundred others, and we should not be the last to rise
up against our tyrants in the hour of their weakness!"

"Whatever the intentions of the envoys may be," continued Kallias, "my
information remains unaltered; they will be here at the latest in three
days."

"And so your oracle will be fulfilled, fortunate Aristomachus!"
exclaimed Rhodopis, "for see, the warrior hosts can only be the
Persians. When they descend to the shores of the Nile, then the powerful
Five,' your Ephori, will change their decision, and you, the father of
two Olympian victors, will be recalled to your native land.

   [The five Ephori of Sparta were appointed to represent the absent
   kings during the Messenian war. In later days the nobles made use
   of the Ephori as a power, which, springing immediately from their
   own body, they could oppose to the kingly authority. Being the
   highest magistrates in all judicial and educational matters, and in
   everything relating to the moral police of the country, the Ephori
   soon found means to assert their superiority, and on most occasions
   over that of the kings themselves. Every patrician who was past the
   age of thirty, had the right to become a candidate yearly for the
   office. Aristot. Potit, II. and IV. Laert. Diog. I. 68.]

"Fill the goblets again, Knakias. Let us devote this last cup to the
manes of the glorious Lysander; and then I advise you to depart, for it
is long past midnight, and our pleasure has reached its highest point.
The true host puts an end to the banquet when his guests are feeling
at their best. Serene and agreeable recollections will soon bring you
hither again; whereas there would be little joy in returning to a house
where the remembrance of hours of weakness, the result of pleasure,
would mingle with your future enjoyment." In this her guests agreed,
and Ibykus named her a thorough disciple of Pythagoras, in praise of the
joyous, festive evening.

Every one prepared for departure. The Sybarite, who had been drinking
deeply in order to counteract the very inconvenient amount of feeling
excited by the conversation, rose also, assisted by his slaves, who had
to be called in for this purpose.

While he was being moved from his former comfortable position, he
stammered something about a "breach of hospitality;" but, when
Rhodopis was about to give him her hand at parting, the wine gained the
ascendancy and he exclaimed, "By Hercules, Rhodopis, you get rid of
us as if we were troublesome creditors. It is not my custom to leave a
supper so long as I can stand, still less to be turned out of doors like
a miserable parasite!"

"Hear reason, you immoderate Sybarite," began Rhodopis, endeavoring
with a smile to excuse her proceeding. But these words, in Philoinus'
half-intoxicated mood, only increased his irritation; he burst into a
mocking laugh, and staggering towards the door, shouted: "Immoderate
Sybarite, you call me? good! here you have your answer: Shameless
slave! one can still perceive the traces of what you were in your youth.
Farewell then, slave of Iadmon and Xanthus, freedwoman of Charaxus!"
He had not however finished his sentence, when Aristomachus rushed upon
him, stunned him with a blow of his fist, and carried him off like
a child down to the boat in which his slaves were waiting at the
garden-gate.




CHAPTER III.

The guests were all gone. Their departing mirth and joy had been smitten
down by the drunkard's abusive words, like fresh young corn beneath
a hail storm. Rhodopis was left standing alone in the empty, brightly
decorated (supper-room). Knakias extinguished the colored lamps on
the walls, and a dull, mysterious half-light took the place of their
brilliant rays, falling scantily and gloomily on the piled-up plates and
dishes, the remnants of the meal, and the seats and cushions, pushed out
of their places by the retiring guests. A cold breeze came through the
open door, for the dawn was at hand, and just before sunrise, the air is
generally unpleasantly cool in Egypt. A cold chill struck the limbs of
the aged woman through her light garments. She stood gazing tearlessly
and fixedly into the desolate room, whose walls but a few minutes before
had been echoing with joy and gladness, and it seemed to her that the
deserted guest-chamber must be like her own heart. She felt as if a worm
were gnawing there, and the warm blood congealing into ice.

Lost in these thoughts, she remained standing till at last her old
female slave appeared to light her to her sleeping apartment.

Silently Rhodopis allowed herself to be undressed, and then, as
silently, lifted the curtain which separated a second sleeping apartment
from her own. In the middle of this second room stood a bedstead of
maplewood, and there, on white sheets spread over a mattress of fine
sheep's wool, and protected from the cold by bright blue coverlets's,
lay a graceful, lovely girl asleep; this was Rhodopis' granddaughter,
Sappho. The rounded form and delicate figure seemed to denote one
already in opening maidenhood, but the peaceful, blissful smile could
only belong to a harmless, happy child.

One hand lay under her head, hidden among the thick dark brown hair, the
other clasped unconsciously a little amulet of green stone, which hung
round her neck. Over her closed eyes the long lashes trembled almost
imperceptibly, and a delicate pink flush came and went on the cheek of
the slumberer. The finely-cut nostrils rose and fell with her regular
breathing, and she lay there, a picture of innocence, of peace, smiling
in dreams, and of the slumber that the gods bestow on early youth, when
care has not yet come.

Softly and carefully, crossing the thick carpets on tiptoe, the
grey-haired woman approached, looked with unutterable tenderness into
the smiling, childish face, and, kneeling down silently by the side of
the bed, buried her face in its soft coverings, so that the girl's
hand just came in contact with her hair. Then she wept, and without
intermission; as though she hoped with this flood of tears to wash away
not only her recent humiliation, but with it all other sorrow from her
mind.

At length she rose, breathed a light kiss on the sleeping girl's
forehead, raised her hands in prayer towards heaven, and returned to her
own room, gently and carefully as she had come.

At her own bedside she found the old slave-woman, still waiting for her.

"What do you want so late, Melitta?" said Rhodopis, kindly, under her
breath. "Go to bed; at your age it is not good to remain up late, and
you know that I do not require you any longer. Good night! and do not
come to-morrow until I send for you. I shall not be able to sleep
much to-night, and shall be thankful if the morning brings me a short
repose."

The woman hesitated; it seemed that she had some thing on her mind which
she feared to utter.

"There is something you want to ask me?" said Rhodopis.

Still the old slave hesitated.

"Speak!" said Rhodopis, "speak at once, and quickly."

"I saw you weeping," said the slave-woman, "you seem ill or sad; let me
watch this night by your bedside. Will you not tell me what ails you?
You have often found that to tell a sorrow lightens the heart and
lessens the pain. Then tell me your grief to-day too; it will do you
good, it will bring back peace to your mind."

"No," answered the other, "I cannot utter it." And then she continued,
smiling bitterly: "I have once more experienced that no one, not even a
god, has power to cancel the past of any human being, and that, in this
world, misfortune and disgrace are one and the same. Good night, leave
me; Melitta!"

At noon on the following day, the same boat, which, the evening before,
had carried the Athenian and the Spartan, stopped once more before
Rhodopis' garden.

The sun was shining so brightly, so warmly and genially in the dark blue
Egyptian sky, the air was so pure and light, the beetles were humming so
merrily, the boatmen singing so lustily and happily, the shores of
the Nile bloomed in such gay, variegated beauty, and were so thickly
peopled, the palm-trees, sycamores, bananas and acacias were so
luxuriant in foliage and blossom, and over the whole landscape the
rarest and most glorious gifts seemed to have been poured out with such
divine munificence, that a passer-by must have pronounced it the very
home of joy and gladness, a place from which sadness and sorrow had been
forever banished.

How often we fancy, in passing a quiet village hidden among its
orchards, that this at least must be the abode of peace, and unambitious
contentment! But alas! when we enter the cottages, what do we find?
there, as everywhere else, distress and need, passion and unsatisfied
longing, fear and remorse, pain and misery; and by the side of these,
Ah! how few joys! Who would have imagined on coming to Egypt, that this
luxuriant, laughing sunny land, whose sky is always unclouded, could
possibly produce and nourish men given to bitterness and severity? that
within the charming, hospitable house of the fortunate Rhodopis, covered
and surrounded, as it was, with sweet flowers, a heart could have been
beating in the deepest sadness? And, still more, who among all the
guests of that honored, admired Thracian woman, would have believed
that this sad heart belonged to her? to the gracious, smiling matron,
Rhodopis herself?

She was sitting with Phanes in a shady arbor near the cooling spray of
a fountain. One could see that she had been weeping again, but her face
was beautiful and kind as ever. The Athenian was holding her hand and
trying to comfort her.

Rhodopis listened patiently, and smiled the while; at times her smile
was bitter, at others it gave assent to his words. At last however she
interrupted her well-intentioned friend, by saying:

"Phanes, I thank you. Sooner or later this last disgrace must be
forgotten too. Time is clever in the healing art. If I were weak I
should leave Naukratis and live in retirement for my grandchild alone;
a whole world, believe me, lies slumbering in that young creature. Many
and many a time already I have longed to leave Egypt, and as often have
conquered the wish. Not because I cannot live without the homage of your
sex; of that I have already had more than enough in my life, but because
I feel that I, the slave-girl and the despised woman once, am now
useful, necessary, almost indispensable indeed, to many free and noble
men. Accustomed as I am, to an extended sphere of work, in its nature
resembling a man's, I could not content myself in living for one being
alone, however dear. I should dry up like a plant removed from a rich
soil into the desert, and should leave my grandchild desolate indeed,
three times orphaned, and alone in the world. No! I shall remain in
Egypt.

"Now that you are leaving, I shall be really indispensable to our
friends here. Amasis is old; when Psamtik comes to the throne we shall
have infinitely greater difficulties to contend with than heretofore. I
must remain and fight on in the fore-front of our battle for the freedom
and welfare of the Hellenic race. Let them call my efforts unwomanly if
they will. This is, and shall be, the purpose of my life, a purpose to
which I will remain all the more faithful, because it is one of those
to which a woman rarely dares devote her life. During this last night
of tears I have felt that much, very much of that womanly weakness still
lingers in me which forms at once the happiness and misery of our sex.
To preserve this feminine weakness in my granddaughter, united with
perfect womanly delicacy, has been my first duty; my second to free
myself entirely from it. But a war against one's own nature cannot be
carried on without occasional defeat, even if ultimately successful.
When grief and pain are gaining the upperhand and I am well nigh in
despair, my only help lies in remembering my friend Pythagoras, that
noblest among men, and his words: 'Observe a due proportion in all
things, avoid excessive joy as well as complaining grief, and seek to
keep thy soul in tune and harmony like a well-toned harp.'"

   [There is no question that Pythagoras visited Egypt during the reign
   of Amasis, probably towards the middle of the 6th century (according
   to our reckoning, about 536 B. C.) Herod. II. 81-123. Diod. I. 98.
   Rich information about Pythagoras is to be found in the works of the
   very learned scholar Roeth, who is however occasionally much too
   bold in his conjectures. Pythagoras was the first among Greek
   thinkers (speculators). He would not take the name of a wise man or
   "sage," but called himself "Philosophos," or a "friend of wisdom."]

"This Pythagorean inward peace, this deep, untroubled calm, I see daily
before me in my Sappho; and struggle to attain it myself, though many a
stroke of fate untunes the chords of my poor heart. I am calm now! You
would hardly believe what power the mere thought of that first of all
thinkers, that calm, deliberate man, whose life acted on mine like
sweet, soft music, has over me. You knew him, you can understand what
I mean. Now, mention your wish; my heart is as calmly quiet as the Nile
waters which are flowing by so quietly, and I am ready to hear it, be it
good or evil."

"I am glad to see you thus," said the Athenian. "If you had remembered
the noble friend of wisdom, as Pythagoras was wont to call himself a
little sooner, your soul would have regained its balance yesterday. The
master enjoins us to look back every evening on the events, feelings and
actions of the day just past.

"Now had you done this, you would have felt that the unfeigned
admiration of all your guests, among whom were men of distinguished
merit, outweighed a thousandfold the injurious words of a drunken
libertine; you would have felt too that you were a friend of the gods,
for was it not in your house that the immortals gave that noble old man
at last, after his long years of misfortune, the greatest joy that can
fall to the lot of any human being? and did they not take from you one
friend only in order to replace him in the same moment, by another and a
better? Come, I will hear no contradiction. Now for my request.

"You know that people sometimes call me an Athenian, sometimes a
Halikarnassian. Now, as the Ionian, AEolian and Dorian mercenaries have
never been on good terms with the Karians, my almost triple descent
(if I may call it so) has proved very useful to me as commander of both
these divisions. Well qualified as Aristomachus may be for the command,
yet in this one point Amasis will miss me; for I found it an easy matter
to settle the differences among the troops and keep them at peace, while
he, as a Spartan, will find it very difficult to keep right with the
Karian soldiers.

"This double nationality of mine arises from the fact that my father
married a Halikarnassian wife out of a noble Dorian family, and, at the
time of my birth, was staying with her in Halikarnassus, having come
thither in order to take possession of her parental inheritance. So,
though I was taken back to Athens before I was three months old, I
must still be called a Karian, as a man's native land is decided by his
birthplace.

"In Athens, as a young nobleman, belonging to that most aristocratic
and ancient family, the Philaidae, I was reared and educated in all the
pride of an Attic noble. Pisistratus, brave and clever, and though of
equal, yet by no means of higher birth, than ourselves, for there exists
no family more aristocratic than my father's, gained possession of the
supreme authority. Twice, the nobles, by uniting all their strength,
succeeded in overthrowing him, and when, the third time, assisted by
Lygdamis of Naxos, the Argives and Eretrians, he attempted to return, we
opposed him again. We had encamped by the temple of Minerva at Pallene,
and were engaged in sacrificing to the goddess, early, before our first
meal, when we were suddenly surprised by the clever tyrant, who gained
an easy, bloodless victory over our unarmed troops. As half of the
entire army opposed to the tyrant was under my command, I determined
rather to die than yield, fought with my whole strength, implored the
soldiers to remain steadfast, resisted without yielding a point, but
fell at last with a spear in my shoulder.

"The Pisistratidae became lords of Athens. I fled to Halikarnassus, my
second home, accompanied by my wife and children. There, my name being
known through some daring military exploits, and, through my having
once conquered in the Pythian games, I was appointed to a command in
the mercenary troops of the King of Egypt; accompanied the expedition
to Cyprus, shared with Aristomachus the renown of having conquered
the birthplace of Aphrodite for Amasis, and finally was named
commander-in-chief of all the mercenaries in Egypt.

"Last summer my wife died; our children, a boy of eleven and a girl
of ten years, remained with an aunt in Halikarnassus. But she too has
followed to the inexorable Hades, and so, only a few days ago I sent for
the little ones here. They cannot, however, possibly reach Naukratis in
less than three weeks, and yet they will already have set out on their
journey before a letter to countermand my first order could reach them.

"I must leave Egypt in fourteen days, and cannot therefore receive them
myself.

"My own intentions are to go to the Thracian Chersonese, where my uncle,
as you know, has been called to fill a high office among the Dolonki.
The children shall follow me thither; my faithful old slave Korax will
remain in Naukratis on purpose to bring them to me.

"Now, if you will show to me that you are in deed and truth my friend,
will you receive the little ones and take care of them till the next
ship sails for Thrace? But above all, will you carefully conceal them
from the eyes of the crown-prince's spies? You know that Psamtik hates
me mortally, and he could easily revenge himself on the father through
the children. I ask you for this great favor, first, because I know your
kindness by experience; and secondly, because your house has been made
secure by the king's letter of guarantee, and they will therefore be
safe here from the inquiries of the police; notwithstanding that, by the
laws of this most formal country, all strangers, children not excepted,
must give up their names to the officer of the district.

"You can now judge of the depth of my esteem, Rhodopis; I am committing
into your hands all that makes life precious to me; for even my native
land has ceased to be dear while she submits so ignominiously to her
tyrants. Will you then restore tranquillity to an anxious father's
heart, will you--?"

"I will, Phanes, I will!" cried the aged woman in undisguised delight.
"You are not asking me for any thing, you are presenting me with a gift.
Oh, how I look forward already to their arrival! And how glad Sappho
will be, when the little creatures come and enliven her solitude! But
this I can assure you, Phanes, I shall not let my little guests depart
with the first Thracian ship. You can surely afford to be separated from
them one short half-year longer, and I promise you they shall receive
the best lessons, and be guided to all that is good and beautiful."

"On that head I have no fear," answered Phanes, with a thankful smile.
"But still you must send off the two little plagues by the first ship;
my anxiety as to Psamtik's revenge is only too well grounded. Take my
most heartfelt thanks beforehand for all the love and kindness which you
will show to my children. I too hope and believe, that the merry little
creatures will be an amusement and pleasure to Sappho in her lonely
life."

"And more," interrupted Rhodopis looking down; "this proof of confidence
repays a thousand-fold the disgrace inflicted on me last night in a
moment of intoxication.--But here comes Sappho!"




CHAPTER IV.

Five days after the evening we have just described at Rhodopis' house,
an immense multitude was to be seen assembled at the harbor of Sais.

Egyptians of both sexes, and of every age and class were thronging to
the water's edge.

Soldiers and merchants, whose various ranks in society were betokened by
the length of their white garments, bordered with colored fringes,
were interspersed among the crowd of half-naked, sinewy men, whose only
clothing consisted of an apron, the costume of the lower classes. Naked
children crowded, pushed and fought to get the best places. Mothers in
short cloaks were holding their little ones up to see the sight, which
by this means they entirely lost themselves; and a troop of dogs and
cats were playing and fighting at the feet of these eager sight-seers,
who took the greatest pains not to tread on, or in any way injure the
sacred animals.

   [According to various pictures on the Egyptian monuments. The
   mothers are from Wilkinson III. 363. Isis and Hathor, with the
   child Horus in her lap or at her breast, are found in a thousand
   representations, dating both from more modern times and in the Greek
   style. The latter seem to have served as a model for the earliest
   pictures of the Madonna holding the infant Christ.]

The police kept order among this huge crowd with long staves, on the
metal heads of which the king's name was inscribed. Their care was
especially needed to prevent any of the people from being pushed into
the swollen Nile, an arm of which, in the season of the inundations,
washes the walls of Sais.

On the broad flight of steps which led between two rows of sphinxes down
to the landing-place of the royal boats, was a very different kind of
assembly.

The priests of the highest rank were seated there on stone benches.
Many wore long, white robes, others were clad in aprons, broad jewelled
collars, and garments of panther skins. Some had fillets adorned with
plumes that waved around brows, temples, and the stiff structures of
false curls that floated over their shoulders; others displayed the
glistening bareness of their smoothly-shaven skulls. The supreme judge
was distinguished by the possession of the longest and handsomest plume
in his head-dress, and a costly sapphire amulet, which, suspended by a
gold chain, hung on his breast.

The highest officers of the Egyptian army wore uniforms of gay colors,97
and carried short swords in their girdles. On the right side of the
steps a division of the body-guard was stationed, armed with battleaxes,
daggers, bows, and large shields; on the left, were the Greek
mercenaries, armed in Ionian fashion. Their new leader, our friend
Aristomachus, stood with a few of his own officers apart from the
Egyptians, by the colossal statues of Psamtik I., which had been erected
on the space above the steps, their faces towards the river.

In front of these statues, on a silver chair, sat Psamtik, the heir to
the throne: He wore a close-fitting garment of many colors, interwoven
with gold, and was surrounded by the most distinguished among the king's
courtiers, chamberlains, counsellors, and friends, all bearing staves
with ostrich feathers and lotus-flowers.

The multitude gave vent to their impatience by shouting, singing, and
quarrelling; but the priests and magnates on the steps preserved a
dignified and solemn silence. Each, with his steady, unmoved gaze, his
stiffly-curled false wig and beard, and his solemn, deliberate manner,
resembled the two huge statues, which, the one precisely similar to the
other, stood also motionless in their respective places, gazing calmly
into the stream.

At last silken sails, chequered with purple and blue, appeared in sight.

The crowd shouted with delight. Cries of, "They are coming! Here they
are!" "Take care, or you'll tread on that kitten," "Nurse, hold the
child higher that she may see something of the sight." "You are pushing
me into the water, Sebak!" "Have a care Phoenician, the boys are
throwing burs into your long beard." "Now, now, you Greek fellow, don't
fancy that all Egypt belongs to you, because Amasis allows you to live
on the shores of the sacred river!" "Shameless set, these Greeks, down
with them!" shouted a priest, and the cry was at once echoed from many
mouths. "Down with the eaters of swine's flesh and despisers of the
gods!"

   [The Egyptians, like the Jews, were forbidden to eat swine's flesh.
   This prohibition is mentioned in the Ritual of the Dead, found in a
   grave in Abd-el-Qurnah, and also in other places. Porphyr de
   Abstin. IV. The swine was considered an especially unclean animal
   pertaining to Typhon (Egyptian, Set) as the boar to Ares, and
   swineherds were an especially despised race. Animals with bristles
   were only sacrificed at the feasts of Osiris and Eileithyia. Herod.
   I. 2. 47. It is probable that Moses borrowed his prohibition of
   swine's flesh from the Egyptian laws with regard to unclean
   animals.]

From words they were proceeding to deeds, but the police were not to be
trifled with, and by a vigorous use of their staves, the tumult was
soon stilled. The large, gay sails, easily to be distinguished among
the brown, white and blue ones of the smaller Nile-boats which swarmed
around them, came nearer and nearer to the expectant throng. Then at
last the crown-prince and the dignitaries arose from their seats. The
royal band of trumpeters blew a shrill and piercing blast of welcome,
and the first of the expected boats stopped at the landing-place.

It was a rather long, richly-gilded vessel, and bore a silver
sparrow-hawk as figure-head. In its midst rose a golden canopy with a
purple covering, beneath which cushions were conveniently arranged. On
each deck in the forepart of the ship sat twelve rowers, their aprons
attached by costly fastenings.

   [Splendid Nile-boats were possessed, in greater or less numbers, by
   all the men of high rank. Even in the tomb of Ti at Sakkara, which
   dates from the time of the Pyramids, we meet with a chief overseer
   of the vessels belonging to a wealthy Egyptian.]

Beneath the canopy lay six fine-looking men in glorious apparel; and
before the ship had touched the shore the youngest of these, a beautiful
fair-haired youth, sprang on to the steps.

Many an Egyptian girl's mouth uttered a lengthened "Ah" at this glorious
sight, and even the grave faces of some of the dignitaries brightened
into a friendly smile.

The name of this much-admired youth was Bartja.

   [This Bartja is better known under the name of Smerdis, but on what
   account the Greeks gave him this name is not clear. In the
   cuneiform inscriptions of Bisitun or Behistun, he is called Bartja,
   or, according to Spiegel, Bardiya. We have chosen, for the sake of
   the easy pronunciation, the former, which is Rawlinson's simplified
   reading of the name.]

He was the son of the late, and brother of the reigning king of Persia,
and had been endowed by nature with every gift that a youth of twenty
years could desire for himself.

Around his tiara was wound a blue and white turban, beneath which hung
fair, golden curls of beautiful, abundant hair; his blue eyes sparkled
with life and joy, kindness and high spirits, almost with sauciness;
his noble features, around which the down of a manly beard was already
visible, were worthy of a Grecian sculptor's chisel, and his slender
but muscular figure told of strength and activity. The splendor of his
apparel was proportioned to his personal beauty. A brilliant star of
diamonds and turquoises glittered in the front of his tiara. An upper
garment of rich white and gold brocade reaching just below the knees,
was fastened round the waist with a girdle of blue and white, the royal
colors of Persia. In this girdle gleamed a short, golden sword, its hilt
and scabbard thickly studded with opals and sky-blue turquoises. The
trousers were of the same rich material as the robe, fitting closely
at the ankle, and ending within a pair of short boots of light-blue
leather.

The long, wide sleeves of his robe displayed a pair of vigorous arms,
adorned with many costly bracelets of gold and jewels; round his slender
neck and on his broad chest lay a golden chain.

Such was the youth who first sprang on shore. He was followed by Darius,
the son of Hystaspes, a young Persian of the blood royal, similar in
person to Bartja, and scarcely less gorgeously apparelled than he. The
third to disembark was an aged man with snow-white hair, in whose
face the gentle and kind expression of childhood was united, with the
intellect of a man, and the experience of old age. His dress consisted
of a long purple robe with sleeves, and the yellow boots worn by the
Lydians;--his whole appearance produced an impression of the greatest
modesty and a total absence of pretension.

   [On account of these boots, which are constantly mentioned, Croesus
   was named by the oracle "soft-footed."]

Yet this simple old man had been, but a few years before, the most
envied of his race and age; and even in our day at two thousand years'
interval, his name is used as a synonyme for the highest point of
worldly riches attainable by mankind. The old man to whom we are now
introduced is no other than Croesus, the dethroned king of Lydia, who
was then living at the court of Cambyses, as his friend and counsellor,
and had accompanied the young Bartja to Egypt, in the capacity of
Mentor.

Croesus was followed by Prexaspes, the king's Ambassador, Zopyrus, the
son of Megabyzus, a Persian noble, the friend of Bartja and Darius; and,
lastly, by his own son, the slender, pale Gyges, who after having become
dumb in his fourth year through the fearful anguish he had suffered
on his father's account at the taking of Sardis, had now recovered the
power of speech.

Psamtik descended the steps to welcome the strangers. His austere,
sallow face endeavored to assume a smile. The high officials in his
train bowed down nearly to the ground, allowing their arms to hang
loosely at their sides. The Persians, crossing their hands on their
breasts, cast themselves on the earth before the heir to the Egyptian
throne. When the first formalities were over, Bartja, according to the
custom of his native country, but greatly to the astonishment of the
populace, who were totally unaccustomed to such a sight, kissed the
sallow cheek of the Egyptian prince; who shuddered at the touch of a
stranger's unclean lips, then took his way to the litters waiting to
convey him and his escort to the dwelling designed for them by the king,
in the palace at Sais.

A portion of the crowd streamed after the strangers, but the larger
number remained at their places, knowing that many a new and wonderful
sight yet awaited them.

"Are you going to run after those dressed-up monkeys and children of
Typhon, too?" asked an angry priest of his neighbor, a respectable
tailor of Sais. "I tell you, Puhor, and the high-priest says so too,
that these strangers can bring no good to the black land! I am for the
good old times, when no one who cared for his life dared set foot on
Egyptian soil. Now our streets are literally swarming with cheating
Hebrews, and above all with those insolent Greeks whom may the gods
destroy!

   [The Jews were called Hebrews (Apuriu) by the Egyptians; as brought
   to light by Chabas. See Ebers, Aegypten I. p. 316. H. Brugsch
   opposes this opinion.]

"Only look, there is the third boat full of strangers! And do you know
what kind of people these Persians are? The high-priest says that in the
whole of their kingdom, which is as large as half the world, there
is not a single temple to the gods; and that instead of giving decent
burial to the dead, they leave them to be torn in pieces by dogs and
vultures."

   [These statements are correct, as the Persians, at the time of the
   dynasty of the Achaemenidae, had no temples, but used fire-altars
   and exposed their dead to the dogs and vultures. An impure corpse
   was not permitted to defile the pure earth by its decay; nor might
   it be committed to the fire or water for destruction, as their
   purity would be equally polluted by such an act. But as it was
   impossible to cause the dead bodies to vanish, Dakhmas or burying-
   places were laid out, which had to be covered with pavement and
   cement not less than four inches thick, and surrounded by cords to
   denote that the whole structure was as it were suspended in the air,
   and did not come in contact with the pure earth. Spiegel, Avesta
   II.]

"The tailor's indignation at hearing this was even greater than his
astonishment, and pointing to the landing-steps, he cried:

"It is really too bad; see, there is the sixth boat full of these
foreigners!"

"Yes, it is hard indeed!" sighed the priest, "one might fancy a whole
army arriving. Amasis will go on in this manner until the strangers
drive him from his throne and country, and plunder and make slaves of
us poor creatures, as the evil Hyksos, those scourges of Egypt, and the
black Ethiopians did, in the days of old."

"The seventh boat!" shouted the tailor.

"May my protectress Neith, the great goddess of Sais, destroy me, if I
can understand the king," complained the priest. "He sent three barks to
Naukratis, that poisonous nest hated of the gods, to fetch the servants
and baggage of these Persians; but instead of three, eight had to be
procured, for these despisers of the gods and profaners of dead bodies
have not only brought kitchen utensils, dogs, horses, carriages, chests,
baskets and bales, but have dragged with them, thousands of miles, a
whole host of servants. They tell me that some of them have no other
work than twining of garlands and preparing ointments. Their priests
too, whom they call Magi, are here with them. I should like to know what
they are for? of what use is a priest where there is no temple?"

The old King Amasis received the Persian embassy shortly after their
arrival with all the amiability and kindness peculiar to him.

Four days later, after having attended to the affairs of state, a duty
punctually fulfilled by him every morning without exception, he went
forth to walk with Croesus in the royal gardens. The remaining members
of the embassy, accompanied by the crown-prince, were engaged in an
excursion up the Nile to the city of Memphis.

The palace-gardens, of a royal magnificence, yet similar in their
arrangement to those of Rhodopis, lay in the north-west part of Sais,
near the royal citadel.

Here, under the shadow of a spreading plane-tree, and near a gigantic
basin of red granite, into which an abundance of clear water flowed
perpetually through the jaws of black basalt crocodiles, the two old men
seated themselves.

The dethroned king, though in reality some years the elder of the two,
looked far fresher and more vigorous than the powerful monarch at his
side. Amasis was tall, but his neck was bent; his corpulent body was
supported by weak and slender legs: and his face, though well-formed,
was lined and furrowed. But a vigorous spirit sparkled in the small,
flashing eyes, and an expression of raillery, sly banter, and at times,
even of irony, played around his remarkably full lips. The low, broad
brow, the large and beautifully-arched head bespoke great mental power,
and in the changing color of his eyes one seemed to read that neither
wit nor passion were wanting in the man, who, from his simple place
as soldier in the ranks, had worked his way up to the throne of the
Pharaohs. His voice was sharp and hard, and his movements, in comparison
with the deliberation of the other members of the Egyptian court,
appeared almost morbidly active.

The attitude and bearing of his neighbor Croesus were graceful, and in
every way worthy of a king. His whole manner showed that he had lived
in frequent intercourse with the highest and noblest minds of Greece.
Thales, Anaximander and Anaximenes of Miletus, Bias of Priene, Solon of
Athens, Pittakus of Lesbos, the most celebrated Hellenic philosophers,
had in former and happier days been guests at the court of Croesus in
Sardis. His full clear voice sounded like pure song when compared with
the shrill tones of Amasis.

   [Bias, a philosopher of Ionian origin, flourished about 560 B. C.
   and was especially celebrated for his wise maxims on morals and law.
   After his death, which took place during his defence of a friend in
   the public court, a temple was erected to him by his countrymen.
   Laert. Diog. I. 88.]

"Now tell me openly," began king Pharaoh--[In English "great house," the
high gate or "sublime porte."]--in tolerably fluent Greek, "what opinion
hast thou formed of Egypt? Thy judgment possesses for me more worth than
that of any other man, for three reasons: thou art better acquainted
with most of the countries and nations of this earth; the gods have not
only allowed thee to ascend the ladder of fortune to its utmost summit,
but also to descend it, and thirdly, thou hast long been the first
counsellor to the mightiest of kings. Would that my kingdom might please
thee so well that thou wouldst remain here and become to me a brother.
Verily, Croesus, my friend hast thou long been, though my eyes beheld
thee yesterday for the first time!"

"And thou mine," interrupted the Lydian. "I admire the courage with
which thou hast accomplished that which seemed right and good in thine
eyes, in spite of opposition near and around thee. I am thankful for the
favor shown to the Hellenes, my friends, and I regard thee as related to
me by fortune, for hast thou not also passed through all the extremes of
good and evil that this life can offer?"

"With this difference," said Amasis smiling, "that we started from
opposite points; in thy lot the good came first, the evil later; whereas
in my own this order has been reversed. In saying this, however," he
added, "I am supposing that my present fortune is a good for me, and
that I enjoy it."

"And I, in that case," answered Croesus, "must be assuming that I am
unhappy in what men call my present ill-fortune."

"How can it possibly be otherwise after the loss of such enormous
possessions?"

"Does happiness consist then in possession?" asked Croesus. "Is
happiness itself a thing to be possessed? Nay, by no means! It is
nothing but a feeling, a sensation, which the envious gods vouchsafe
more often to the needy than to the mighty. The clear sight of the
latter becomes dazzled by the glittering treasure, and they cannot but
suffer continual humiliation, because, conscious of possessing power to
obtain much, they wage an eager war for all, and therein are continually
defeated."

Amasis sighed, and answered: "I would I could prove thee in the wrong;
but in looking back on my past life I am fain to confess that its
cares began with that very hour which brought me what men call my good
fortune."--"And I," interrupted Croesus, "can assure thee that I am
thankful thou delayedst to come to my help, inasmuch as the hour of my
overthrow was the beginning of true, unsullied happiness. When I beheld
the first Persians scale the walls of Sardis, I execrated myself and the
gods, life appeared odious to me, existence a curse. Fighting on, but in
heart despairing, I and my people were forced to yield. A Persian raised
his sword to cleave my skull--in an instant my poor dumb son had thrown
himself between his father and the murderer, and for the first time
after long years of silence, I heard him speak. Terror had loosened his
tongue; in that dreadful hour Gyges learnt once more to speak, and I,
who but the moment before had been cursing the gods, bowed down before
their power. I had commanded a slave to kill me the moment I should be
taken prisoner by the Persians, but now I deprived him of his sword. I
was a changed man, and by degrees learnt ever more and more to subdue
the rage and indignation which yet from time to time would boil up again
within my soul, rebellious against my fate and my noble enemies. Thou
knowest that at last I became the friend of Cyrus, and that my son grew
up at his court, a free man at my side, having entirely regained the use
of his speech. Everything beautiful and good that I had heard, seen
or thought during my long life I treasured up now for him; he was my
kingdom, my crown, my treasure. Cyrus's days of care, his nights so reft
of sleep, reminded me with horror of my own former greatness, and from
day to day it became more evident to me that happiness has nothing to
do with our outward circumstances. Each man possesses the hidden germ in
his own heart. A contented, patient mind, rejoicing much in all that
is great and beautiful and yet despising not the day of small things;
bearing sorrow without a murmur and sweetening it by calling to
remembrance former joy; moderation in all things; a firm trust in the
favor of the gods and a conviction that, all things being subject to
change, so with us too the worst must pass in due season; all this helps
to mature the germ of happiness, and gives us power to smile, where the
man undisciplined by fate might yield to despair and fear."

Amasis listened attentively, drawing figures the while in the sand with
the golden flower on his staff. At last he spoke:

"Verily, Croesus, I the great god, the 'sun of righteousness,' 'the son
of Neith,' 'the lord of warlike glory,' as the Egyptians call me, am
tempted to envy thee, dethroned and plundered as thou art. I have been
as happy as thou art now. Once I was known through all Egypt, though
only the poor son of a captain, for my light heart, happy temper, fun
and high spirits. The common soldiers would do anything for me, my
superior officers could have found much fault, but in the mad Amasis,
as they called me, all was overlooked, and among my equals, (the other
under-officers) there could be no fun or merry-making unless I took a
share in it. My predecessor king Hophra sent us against Cyrene. Seized
with thirst in the desert, we refused to go on; and a suspicion that the
king intended to sacrifice us to the Greek mercenaries drove the army to
open mutiny. In my usual joking manner I called out to my friends: 'You
can never get on without a king, take me for your ruler; a merrier you
will never find!' The soldiers caught the words. 'Amasis will be our
king,' ran through the ranks from man to man, and, in a few hours more,
they came to me with shouts, and acclamations of 'The good, jovial
Amasis for our King!' One of my boon companions set a field-marshal's
helmet on my head: I made the joke earnest, and we defeated Hophra at
Momempliis. The people joined in the conspiracy, I ascended the throne,
and men pronounced me fortunate. Up to that time I had been every
Egyptian's friend, and now I was the enemy of the best men in the
nation.

"The priests swore allegiance to me, and accepted me as a member of
their caste, but only in the hope of guiding me at their will. My former
superiors in command either envied me, or wished to remain on the same
terms of intercourse as formerly. But this would have been inconsistent
with my new position, and have undermined my authority. One day,
therefore, when the officers of the host were at one of my banquets and
attempting, as usual, to maintain their old convivial footing, I showed
them the golden basin in which their feet had been washed before sitting
down to meat; five days later, as they were again drinking at one of my
revels, I caused a golden image of the great god Ra be placed upon the
richly-ornamented banqueting-table.

   [Ra, with the masculine article Phra, must be regarded as the
   central point of the sun-worship of the Egyptians, which we consider
   to have been the foundation of their entire religion. He was more
   especially worshipped at Heliopolis. Plato, Eudoxus, and probably
   Pythagoras also, profited by the teaching of his priests. The
   obelisks, serving also as memorial monuments on which the names and
   deeds of great kings were recorded, were sacred to him, and Pliny
   remarks of them that they represented the rays of the sun. He was
   regarded as the god of light, the director of the entire visible
   creation, over which he reigned, as Osiris over the world of
   spirits.]

"On perceiving it, they fell down to worship. As they rose from
their knees, I took the sceptre, and holding it up on high with much
solemnity, exclaimed: 'In five days an artificer has transformed the
despised vessel into which ye spat and in which men washed your feet,
into this divine image. Such a vessel was I, but the Deity, which can
fashion better and more quickly than a goldsmith, has made me your king.
Bow down then before me and worship. He who henceforth refuses to obey,
or is unmindful of the reverence due to the king, is guilty of death!'

"They fell down before me, every one, and I saved my authority, but lost
my friends. As I now stood in need of some other prop, I fixed on the
Hellenes, knowing that in all military qualifications one Greek is worth
more than five Egyptians, and that with this assistance I should be able
to carry out those measures which I thought beneficial.

"I kept the Greek mercenaries always round me, I learnt their language,
and it was they who brought to me the noblest human being I ever met,
Pythagoras. I endeavored to introduce Greek art and manners among
ourselves, seeing what folly lay in a self-willed adherence to that
which has been handed down to us, when it is in itself bad and unworthy,
while the good seed lay on our Egyptian soil, only waiting to be sown.

"I portioned out the whole land to suit my purposes, appointed the best
police in the world, and accomplished much; but my highest aim, namely:
to infuse into this country, at once so gay and so gloomy, the spirit
and intellect of the Greeks, their sense of beauty in form, their love
of life and joy in it, this all was shivered on the same rock which
threatens me with overthrow and ruin whenever I attempt to accomplish
anything new. The priests are my opponents, my masters, they hang like a
dead weight upon me. Clinging with superstitious awe to all that is old
and traditionary, abominating everything foreign, and regarding every
stranger as the natural enemy of their authority and their teaching,
they can lead the most devout and religious of all nations with a power
that has scarcely any limits. For this I am forced to sacrifice all my
plans, for this I see my life passing away in bondage to their severe
ordinances, this will rob my death-bed of peace, and I cannot be secure
that this host of proud mediators between god and man will allow me to
rest even in my grave!"

"By Zeus our saviour, with all thy good fortune, thou art to be pitied!"
interrupted Croesus sympathetically, "I understand thy misery; for
though I have met with many an individual who passed through life darkly
and gloomily, I could not have believed that an entire race of human
beings existed, to whom a gloomy, sullen heart was as natural as a
poisonous tooth to the serpent. Yet it is true, that on my journey
hither and during my residence at this court I have seen none but morose
and gloomy countenances among the priesthood. Even the youths, thy
immediate attendants, are never seen to smile; though cheerfulness,
that sweet gift of the gods, usually belongs to the young, as flowers to
spring."

"Thou errest," answered Amasis, "in believing this gloom to be a
universal characteristic of the Egyptians. It is true that our religion
requires much serious thought. There are few nations, however, who have
so largely the gift of bantering fun and joke: or who on the occasion
of a festival, can so entirely forget themselves and everything else but
the enjoyments of the moment; but the very sight of a stranger is odious
to the priests, and the moroseness which thou observest is intended as
retaliation on me for my alliance with the strangers. Those very boys,
of whom thou spakest, are the greatest torment of my life. They perform
for me the service of slaves, and obey my slightest nod. One might
imagine that the parents who devote their children to this service,
and who are the highest in rank among the priesthood, would be the most
obedient and reverential servants of the king whom they profess to honor
as divine; but believe me, Croesus, just in this very act of devotion,
which no ruler can refuse to accept without giving offence, lies the
most crafty, scandalous calculation. Each of these youths is my keeper,
my spy. They watch my smallest actions and report them at once to the
priests."

"But how canst thou endure such an existence? Why not banish these spies
and select servants from the military caste, for instance? They would be
quite as useful as the priests."

"Ah! if I only could, if I dared!" exclaimed Amasis loudly. And then,
as if frightened at his own rashness, he continued in a low voice, "I
believe that even here I am being watched. To-morrow I will have that
grove of fig-trees yonder uprooted. The young priest there, who seems
so fond of gardening, has other fruit in his mind besides the half-ripe
figs that he is so slowly dropping into his basket. While his hand is
plucking the figs, his ear gathers the words that fall from the mouth of
his king."

"But, by our father Zeus, and by Apollo--"

"Yes, I understand thy indignation and I share it; but every position
has its duties, and as a king of a people who venerate tradition as the
highest divinity, I must submit, at least in the main, to the ceremonies
handed down through thousands of years. Were I to burst these fetters,
I know positively that at my death my body would remain unburied; for,
know that the priests sit in judgment over every corpse, and deprive the
condemned of rest, even in the grave."

   [This well-known custom among the ancient Egyptians is confirmed,
   not only by many Greek narrators, but by the laboriously erased
   inscriptions discovered in the chambers of some tombs.]

"Why care about the grave?" cried Croesus, becoming angry. "We live for
life, not for death!"

"Say rather," answered Amasis rising from his seat, "we, with our Greek
minds, believe a beautiful life to be the highest good. But Croesus, I
was begotten and nursed by Egyptian parents, nourished on Egyptian food,
and though I have accepted much that is Greek, am still, in my innermost
being, an Egyptian. What has been sung to us in our childhood, and
praised as sacred in our youth, lingers on in the heart until the day
which sees us embalmed as mummies. I am an old man and have but a short
span yet to run, before I reach the landmark which separates us from
that farther country. For the sake of life's few remaining days, shall
I willingly mar Death's thousands of years? No, my friend, in this point
at least I have remained an Egyptian, in believing, like the rest of
my countrymen, that the happiness of a future life in the kingdom of
Osiris, depends on the preservation of my body, the habitation of the
soul.

   [Each human soul was considered as a part of the world-soul Osiris,
   was united to him after the death of the body, and thenceforth took
   the name of Osiris. The Egyptian Cosmos consisted of the three
   great realms, the Heavens, the Earth and the Depths. Over the vast
   ocean which girdles the vault of heaven, the sun moves in a boat or
   car drawn by the planets and fixed stars. On this ocean too the
   great constellations circle in their ships, and there is the kingdom
   of the blissful gods, who sit enthroned above this heavenly ocean
   under a canopy of stars. The mouth of this great stream is in the
   East, where the sun-god rises from the mists and is born again as a
   child every morning. The surface of the earth is inhabited by human
   beings having a share in the three great cosmic kingdoms. They
   receive their soul from the heights of heaven, the seat and source
   of light; their material body is of the earth; and the appearance or
   outward form by which one human being is distinguished from another
   at sight--his phantom or shadow--belongs to the depths. At death,
   soul, body, and shadow separate from one another. The soul to
   return to the place from whence it came, to Heaven, for it is a part
   of God (of Osiris); the body, to be committed to the earth from
   which it was formed in the image of its creator; the phantom or
   shadow, to descend into the depths, the kingdom of shadows. The
   gate to this kingdom was placed in the West among the sunset hills,
   where the sun goes down daily,--where he dies. Thence arise the
   changeful and corresponding conceptions connected with rising and
   setting, arriving and departing, being born and dying. The careful
   preservation of the body after death from destruction, not only
   through the process of inward decay, but also through violence or
   accident, was in the religion of ancient Egypt a principal condition
   (perhaps introduced by the priests on sanitary grounds) on which
   depended the speedy deliverance of the soul, and with this her
   early, appointed union with the source of Light and Good, which two
   properties were, in idea, one and indivisible. In the Egyptian
   conceptions the soul was supposed to remain, in a certain sense,
   connected with the body during a long cycle of solar years. She
   could, however, quit the body from time to time at will, and could
   appear to mortals in various forms and places; these appearances
   differed according to the hour, and were prescribed in exact words
   and delineations.]

"But enough of these matters; thou wilt find it difficult to enter into
such thoughts. Tell me rather what thou thinkest of our temples and
pyramids."

Croesus, after reflecting a moment, answered with a smile: "Those huge
pyramidal masses of stone seem to me creations of the boundless desert,
the gaily painted temple colonnades to be the children of the Spring;
but though the sphinxes lead up to your temple gates, and seem to point
the way into the very shrines themselves, the sloping fortress-like
walls of the Pylons, those huge isolated portals, appear as if placed
there to repel entrance. Your many-colored hieroglyphics likewise
attract the gaze, but baffle the inquiring spirit by the mystery that
lies within their characters. The images of your manifold gods are
everywhere to be seen; they crowd on our gaze, and yet who knows not
that their real is not their apparent significance? that they are mere
outward images of thoughts accessible only to the few, and, as I have
heard, almost incomprehensible in their depth? My curiosity is excited
everywhere, and my interest awakened, but my warm love of the beautiful
feels itself in no way attracted. My intellect might strain to penetrate
the secrets of your sages, but my heart and mind can never be at home in
a creed which views life as a short pilgrimage to the grave, and death
as the only true life!"

"And yet," said Amasis, "Death has for us too his terrors, and we do all
in our power to evade his grasp. Our physicians would not be celebrated
and esteemed as they are, if we did not believe that their skill could
prolong our earthly existence. This reminds me of the oculist Nebenchari
whom I sent to Susa, to the king. Does he maintain his reputation? is
the king content with him?"

"Very much so," answered Croesus. "He has been of use to many of the
blind; but the king's mother is alas! still sightless. It was Nebenchari
who first spoke to Cambyses of the charms of thy daughter Tachot. But we
deplore that he understands diseases of the eye alone. When the Princess
Atossa lay ill of fever, he was not to be induced to bestow a word of
counsel."

"That is very natural; our physicians are only permitted to treat one
part of the body. We have aurists, dentists and oculists, surgeons for
fractures of the bone, and others for internal diseases. By the ancient
priestly law a dentist is not allowed to treat a deaf man, nor a surgeon
for broken bones a patient who is suffering from a disease of the
bowels, even though he should have a first rate knowledge of internal
complaints. This law aims at securing a great degree of real and
thorough knowledge; an aim indeed, pursued by the priests (to whose
caste the physicians belong) with a most praiseworthy earnestness in all
branches of science. Yonder lies the house of the high-priest Neithotep,
whose knowledge of astronomy and geometry was so highly praised, even
by Pythagoras. It lies next to the porch leading into the temple of
the goddess Neith, the protectress of Sais. Would I could show thee the
sacred grove with its magnificent trees, the splendid pillars of the
temple with capitals modelled from the lotus-flower, and the colossal
chapel which I caused to be wrought from a single piece of granite, as
an offering to the goddess; but alas! entrance is strictly refused to
strangers by the priests. Come, let us seek my wife and daughter; they
have conceived an affection for thee, and indeed it is my wish that thou
shouldst gain a friendly feeling towards this poor maiden before she
goes forth with thee to the strange land, and to the strange nation
whose princess she is to become. Wilt thou not adopt and take her under
thy care?"

"On that thou may'st with fullest confidence rely," replied Croesus
with warmth, returning the pressure of Amasis' hand. "I will protect
thy Nitetis as if I were her father; and she will need my help, for the
apartments of the women in the Persian palaces are dangerous ground. But
she will meet with great consideration. Cambyses may be contented with
his choice, and will be highly gratified that thou hast entrusted him
with thy fairest child. Nebenchari had only spoken of Tachot, thy second
daughter."

"Nevertheless I will send my beautiful Nitetis. Tachot is so tender,
that she could scarcely endure the fatigues of the journey and the pain
of separation. Indeed were I to follow the dictates of my own heart,
Nitetis should never leave us for Persia. But Egypt stands in need of
peace, and I was a king before I became a father!"




CHAPTER V.

The other members of the Persian embassy had returned to Sais from their
excursion up the Nile to the pyramids. Prexaspes alone, the ambassador
from Cambyses, had already set out for Persia, in order to inform the
king of the successful issue of his suit.

The palace of Amasis was full of life and stir. The huge building
was filled in all parts by the followers of the embassy, nearly three
hundred in number, and by the high guests themselves, to whom every
possible attention was paid. The courts of the palace swarmed with
guards and officials, with young priests and slaves, all in splendid
festal raiment.

On this day it was the king's intention to make an especial display of
the wealth and splendor of his court, at a festival arranged in honor of
his daughter's betrothal.

The lofty reception-hall opening on to the gardens, with its ceiling
sown with thousands of golden stars and supported by gaily-painted
columns, presented a magic appearance. Lamps of colored papyrus hung
against the walls and threw a strange light on the scene, something like
that when the sun's rays strike through colored glass. The space
between the columns and the walls was filled with choice plants, palms,
oleanders, pomegranates, oranges and roses, behind which an invisible
band of harp and flute-players was stationed, who received the guests
with strains of monotonous, solemn music.

The floor of this hall was paved in black and white, and in the middle
stood elegant tables covered with dishes of all kinds, cold roast meats,
sweets, well-arranged baskets of fruit and cake, golden jugs of wine,
glass drinking-cups and artistic flower-vases.

A multitude of richly-dressed slaves under direction of the
high-steward, busied themselves in handing these dishes to the
guests, who, either standing around, or reclining on sumptuous seats,
entertained themselves in conversation with their friends.

Both sexes and all ages were to be found in this assembly. As the women
entered, they received charming little nosegays from the young priests
in the personal service of the king, and many a youth of high degree
appeared in the hall with flowers, which he not only offered to her he
loved best, but held up for her to smell.

The Egyptian men, who were dressed as we have already seen them at
the reception of the Persian embassy, behaved towards the women with a
politeness that might almost be termed submissive. Among the latter few
could pretend to remarkable beauty, though there were many bewitching
almond-shaped eyes, whose loveliness was heightened by having their lids
dyed with the eye-paint called "mestem." The majority wore their hair
arranged in the same manner; the wealth of waving brown locks floated
back over the shoulders and was brushed behind the ears, one braid being
left on each side to hang over the temples to the breast. A broad diadem
confined these locks, which as the maids knew, were quite as often the
wig-maker's work as Nature's. Many ladies of the court wore above their
foreheads a lotus-flower, whose stem drooped on the hair at the back.

They carried fans of bright feathers in their delicate hands. These
were loaded with rings; the finger-nails were stained red, according to
Egyptian custom, and gold or silver bands were worn above the elbow, and
at the wrists and ankles.

   [This custom (of staining finger-nails) is still prevalent in the
   East; the plant Shenna, Laosonia spinosa, called by Pliny XIII.
   Cyprus, being used for the purpose. The Egyptian government has
   prohibited the dye, but it will be difficult to uproot the ancient
   custom. The pigment for coloring the eyelids, mentioned in the
   text, is also still employed. The Papyrus Ebers alludes to the
   Arabian kohl or antimony, which is frequently mentioned under the
   name of "mestem" on monuments belonging to the time of the
   Pharaohs.]

Their robes were beautiful and costly, and in many cases so cut as to
leave the right breast uncovered. Bartja, the young Persian prince,
among the men, and Nitetis, the Pharaoh's daughter, among the women,
were equally conspicuous for their superior beauty, grace and charms.
The royal maiden wore a transparent rose-colored robe, in her black hair
were fresh roses, she walked by the side of her sister, the two robed
alike, but Nitetis pale as the lotus-flower in her mother's hair.

Ladice, the queen, by birth a Greek, and daughter of Battus of Cyrene,
walked by the side of Amasis and presented the young Persians to her
children. A light lace robe was thrown over her garment of purple,
embroidered with gold; and on her beautiful Grecian head she wore the
Urmus serpent, the ornament peculiar to Egyptian queens.

Her countenance was noble yet charming, and every movement betrayed the
grace only to be imparted by a Greek education.

Amasis, in making choice of this queen, after the death of his second
wife, (the Egyptian Tentcheta, mother of Psamtik the heir to the
throne,) had followed his prepossession in favor of the Greek nation and
defied the wrath of the priests.

The two girls at Ladice's side, Tachot and Nitetis, were called
twin-sisters, but showed no signs of that resemblance usually to be
found in twins.

Tachot was a fair, blue-eyed girl, small, and delicately built; Nitetis,
on the other hand, tall and majestic, with black hair and eyes, evinced
in every action that she was of royal blood.

"How pale thou look'st, my child!" said Ladice, kissing Nitetis' cheek.
"Be of good courage, and meet thy future bravely. Here is the noble
Bartja, the brother of thy future husband."

Nitetis raised her dark, thoughtful eyes and fixed them long and
enquiringly on the beautiful youth. He bowed low before the blushing
maiden, kissed her garment, and said:

"I salute thee, as my future queen and sister! I can believe that
thy heart is sore at parting from thy home, thy parents, brethren and
sisters; but be of good courage; thy husband is a great hero, and
a powerful king; our mother is the noblest of women, and among the
Persians the beauty and virtue of woman is as much revered as the
life-giving light of the sun. Of thee, thou sister of the lily Nitetis,
whom, by her side I might venture to call the rose, I beg forgiveness,
for robbing thee of thy dearest friend."

As he said these words he looked eagerly into Tachot's beautiful blue
eyes; she bent low, pressing her hand upon her heart, and gazed on him
long after Amasis had drawn him away to a seat immediately opposite
the dancing-girls, who were just about to display their skill for the
entertainment of the guests. A thin petticoat was the only clothing
of these girls, who threw and wound their flexible limbs to a measure
played on harp and tambourine. After the dance appeared Egyptian singers
and buffoons for the further amusement of the company.

At length some of the courtiers forsook the hall, their grave demeanor
being somewhat overcome by intoxication.

   [Unfortunately women, as well as men, are to be seen depicted on the
   monuments in an intoxicated condition. One man is being carried
   home, like a log of wood, on the heads of his servants. Wilkinson
   II. 168. Another is standing on his head II. 169. and several
   ladies are in the act of returning the excessive quantity which they
   have drunk. Wilkinson II. 167. At the great Techu-festival at
   Dendera intoxication seems to have been as much commanded as at the
   festivals of Dionysus under the Ptolemies, one of whom (Ptolemy
   Dionysus) threatened those who remained sober with the punishment of
   death. But intoxication was in general looked upon by the Egyptians
   as a forbidden and despicable vice. In the Papyrus Anastasi IV.,
   for instance, we read these words on a drunkard: "Thou art as a
   sanctuary without a divinity, as a house without bread," and
   further: "How carefully should men avoid beer (hek)." A number of
   passages in the Papyrus denounce drunkards.]

The women were carried home in gay litters by slaves with torches; and
only the highest military commanders, the Persian ambassadors and a
few officials, especial friends of Amasis, remained behind. These
were retained by the master of the ceremonies, and conducted to a
richly-ornamented saloon, where a gigantic wine-bowl standing on a table
adorned in the Greek fashion, invited to a drinking-bout.

Amasis was seated on a high arm-chair at the head of the table; at his
left the youthful Bartja, at his right the aged Croesus. Besides these
and the other Persians, Theodorus and Ibykus, the friends of Polykrates,
already known to us, and Aristomachus, now commander of the Greek
body-guard, were among the king's guests.

Amasis, whom we have just heard in such grave discourse with Croesus,
now indulged in jest and satire. He seemed once more the wild officer,
the bold reveller of the olden days.

His sparkling, clever jokes, at times playful, at times scornful, flew
round among the revellers. The guests responded in loud, perhaps often
artificial laughter, to their king's jokes, goblet after goblet was
emptied, and the rejoicings had reached their highest point, when
suddenly the master of the ceremonies appeared, bearing a small gilded
mummy; and displaying it to the gaze of the assembly, exclaimed. "Drink,
jest, and be merry, for all too soon ye shall become like unto this!"

   [Wilkinson gives drawings of these mummies (II. 410.) hundreds of
   which were placed in the tombs, and have been preserved to us.
   Lucian was present at a banquet, when they were handed round. The
   Greeks seem to have adopted this custom, but with their usual talent
   for beautifying all they touched, substituted a winged figure of
   death for the mummy. Maxims similar to the following one are by no
   means rare. "Cast off all care; be mindful only of pleasure until
   the day cometh when then must depart on the journey, whose goal is
   the realm of silence!" Copied from the tomb of Neferhotep to
   Abd-el-Qurnah.]

"Is it your custom thus to introduce death at all your banquets?" said
Bartja, becoming serious, "or is this only a jest devised for to-day by
your master of the ceremonies?"

"Since the earliest ages," answered Amasis, "it has been our custom to
display these mummies at banquets, in order to increase the mirth of the
revellers, by reminding them that one must enjoy the time while it is
here. Thou, young butterfly, hast still many a long and joyful year
before thee; but we, Croesus, we old men, must hold by this firmly. Fill
the goblets, cup-bearer, let not one moment of our lives be wasted! Thou
canst drink well, thou golden-haired Persian! Truly the great gods have
endowed thee not only with beautiful eyes, and blooming beauty, but with
a good throat! Let me embrace thee, thou glorious youth, thou rogue!
What thinkest thou Croesus? my daughter Tachot can speak of nothing else
than of this beardless youth, who seems to have quite turned her little
head with his sweet looks and words. Thou needest not to blush, young
madcap! A man such as thou art, may well look at king's daughters; but
wert thou thy father Cyrus himself, I could not allow my Tachot to leave
me for Persia!"

"Father!" whispered the crown-prince Psamtik, interrupting this
conversation. "Father, take care what you say, and remember Phanes." The
king turned a frowning glance on his son; but following his advice, took
much less part in the conversation, which now became more general.

The seat at the banquet-table, occupied by Aristomachus, placed him
nearly opposite to Croesus, on whom, in total silence and without once
indulging in a smile at the king's jests, his eyes had been fixed
from the beginning of the revel. When the Pharaoh ceased to speak, he
accosted Croesus suddenly with the following question: "I would know,
Lydian, whether the snow still covered the mountains, when ye left
Persia."

Smiling, and a little surprised at this strange speech, Croesus
answered: "Most of the Persian mountains were green when we started for
Egypt four months ago; but there are heights in the land of Cambyses
on which, even in the hottest seasons, the snow never melts, and the
glimmer of their white crests we could still perceive, as we descended
into the plains."

The Spartan's face brightened visibly, and Croesus, attracted by this
serious, earnest man, asked his name. "My name is Aristomachus."

"That name seems known to me."

"You were acquainted with many Hellenes, and my name is common among
them."

"Your dialect would bespeak you my opinion a Spartan."

"I was one once."

"And now no more?"

"He who forsakes his native land without permission, is worthy of
death."

"Have you forsaken it with your own free-will?"

"Yes."

"For what reason?"

"To escape dishonor."

"What was your crime?"

"I had committed none."

"You were accused unjustly?"

"Yes."

"Who was the author of your ill-fortune?"

"Yourself."

Croesus started from his seat. The serious tone and gloomy face of
the Spartan proved that this was no jest, and those who sat near the
speakers, and had been following this strange dialogue, were alarmed and
begged Aristomachus to explain his words.

He hesitated and seemed unwilling to speak; at last, however, at the
king's summons, he began thus:

"In obedience to the oracle, you, Croesus, had chosen us Lacedaemonians,
as the most powerful among the Hellenes, to be your allies against the
might of Persia; and you gave us gold for the statue of Apollo on Mount
Thornax. The ephori, on this, resolved to present you with a gigantic
bronze wine-bowl, richly wrought. I was chosen as bearer of this gift.
Before reaching Sardis our ship was wrecked in a storm. The wine-cup
sank with it, and we reached Samos with nothing but our lives. On
returning home I was accused by enemies, and those who grudged my good
fortune, of having sold both ship and wine-vessel to the Samians. As
they could not convict me of the crime, and had yet determined on my
ruin, I was sentenced to two days' and nights' exposure on the pillory.
My foot was chained to it during the night; but before the morning of
disgrace dawned, my brother brought me secretly a sword, that my honor
might be saved, though at the expense of my life. But I could not
die before revenging myself on the men who had worked my ruin; and
therefore, cutting the manacled foot from my leg, I escaped, and hid in
the rushes on the banks of the Furotas. My brother brought me food and
drink in secret; and after two months I was able to walk on the wooden
leg you now see. Apollo undertook my revenge; he never misses his mark,
and my two worst opponents died of the plague. Still I durst not return
home, and at length took ship from Gythium to fight against the Persians
under you, Croesus. On landing at Teos, I heard that you were king no
longer, that the mighty Cyrus, the father of yonder beautiful youth, had
conquered the powerful province of Lydia in a few weeks, and reduced the
richest of kings to beggary."

Every guest gazed at Aristomachus in admiration. Croesus shook his hard
hand; and Bartja exclaimed: "Spartan, I would I could take you back with
me to Susa, that my friends there might see what I have seen myself, the
most courageous, the most honorable of men!"

"Believe me, boy," returned Aristomachus smiling, "every Spartan would
have done the same. In our country it needs more courage to be a coward
than a brave man."

"And you, Bartja," cried Darius, the Persian king's cousin, "could you
have borne to stand at the pillory?" Bartja reddened, but it was easy to
see that he too preferred death to disgrace.

"Zopyrus, what say you?" asked Darius of the third young Persian.

"I could mutilate my own limbs for love of you two," answered he,
grasping unobserved the hands of his two friends.

With an ironical smile Psamtik sat watching this scene--the pleased
faces of Amasis, Croesus and Gyges, the meaning glances of the
Egyptians, and the contented looks with which Aristomachus gazed on the
young heroes.

Ibykus now told of the oracle which had promised Aristomachus a return
to his native land, on the approach of the men from the snowy mountains,
and at the same time, mentioned the hospitable house of Rhodopis.

On hearing this name Psamtik grew restless; Croesus expressed a wish to
form the acquaintance of the Thracian matron, of whom AEsop had related
so much that was praiseworthy; and, as the other guests, many of whom
had lost consciousness through excessive drinking, were leaving the
hall, the dethroned monarch, the poet, the sculptor and the Spartan hero
made an agreement to go to Naukratis the next day, and there enjoy the
conversation of Rhodopis.




CHAPTER VI.

On the night following the banquet just described, Amasis allowed
himself only three hours' rest. On this, as on every other morning, the
young priests wakened him at the first cock-crow, conducted him as usual
to the bath, arrayed him in the royal vestments and led him to the altar
in the court of the palace, where in presence of the populace he offered
sacrifice. During the offering the priests sang prayers in a loud voice,
enumerated the virtues of their king, and, that blame might in no case
light on the head of their ruler, made his bad advisers responsible for
every deadly sin committed in ignorance.

They exhorted him to the performance of good deeds, while extolling his
virtues; read aloud profitable portions of the holy writings, containing
the deeds and sayings of great men, and then conducted him to his
apartments, where letters and information from all parts of the kingdom
awaited him.

Amasis was in the habit of observing most faithfully these
daily-repeated ceremonies and hours of work; the remaining portion of
the day he spent as it pleased him, and generally in cheerful society.

The priests reproached him with this, alleging that such a life was
not suited to a monarch; and on one occasion he had thus replied to the
indignant high-priest: "Look at this bow! if always bent it must lose
its power, but, if used for half of each day and then allowed to rest,
it will remain strong and useful till the string breaks."

Amasis had just signed his name to the last letter, granting the
petition of a Nornarch--[Administrator of a Province]--for money
to carry on different embankments rendered necessary by the last
inundation, when a servant entered, bringing a request from the
crown-prince Psamtik for an audience of a few minutes.

Amasis, who till this moment had been smiling cheerfully at the cheering
reports from all parts of the country, now became suddenly serious and
thoughtful. After long delay he answered: "Go and inform the prince that
he may appear."

Psamtik appeared, pale and gloomy as ever; he bowed low and
reverentially, on entering his father's presence.

Amasis nodded silently in return, and then asked abruptly and sternly:
"What is thy desire? my time is limited."

"For your son, more than for others," replied the prince with quivering
lips. "Seven times have I petitioned for the great favor, which thou
grantest for the first time to-day."

"No reproaches! I suspect the reason of thy visit. Thou desirest an
answer to thy doubts as to the birth of thy sister Nitetis."

"I have no curiosity; I come rather to warn thee, and to remind thee
that I am not the only one who is acquainted with this mystery."

"Speakest thou of Phanes?"

"Of whom else should I speak? He is banished from Egypt and from his
own country, and must leave Naukratis in a few days. What guarantee hast
thou, that he will not betray us to the Persians?"

"The friendship and kindness which I have always shown him."

"Dost thou believe in the gratitude of men?"

"No! but I rely on my own discernment of character. Phanes will not
betray us! he is my friend, I repeat it!"

"Thy friend perhaps, but my mortal enemy!"

"Then stand on thy guard! I have nothing to fear from him."

"For thyself perhaps nought, but for our country! O father, reflect that
though as thy son I may be hateful in thine eyes, yet as Egypt's future
I ought to be near thy heart. Remember, that at thy death, which may the
gods long avert, I shall represent the existence of this glorious land
as thou dost now; my fall will be the ruin of thine house, of Egypt!"

Amasis became more and more serious, and Psamtik went on eagerly: "Thou
knowest that I am right! Phanes can betray our land to any foreign
enemy; he is as intimately acquainted with it as we are; and beside
this, he possesses a secret, the knowledge of which would convert our
most powerful ally into a most formidable enemy."

"There thou art in error. Though not mine, Nitetis is a king's daughter
and will know how to win the love of her husband."

"Were she the daughter of a god, she could not save thee from Cambyses'
wrath, if he discovers the treachery; lying is to a Persian the worst
of crimes, to be deceived the greatest disgrace; thou hast deceived the
highest and proudest of the nation, and what can one inexperienced girl
avail, when hundreds of women, deeply versed in intrigue and artifice,
are striving for the favor of their lord?"

"Hatred and revenge are good masters in the art of rhetoric," said
Amasis in a cutting tone. "And think'st thou then, oh, foolish son,
that I should have undertaken such a dangerous game without due
consideration? Phanes may tell the Persians what he likes, he can never
prove his point. I, the father, Ladice the mother must know best whether
Nitetis is our child or not. We call her so, who dare aver the contrary?
If it please Phanes to betray our land to any other enemy beside the
Persians, let him; I fear nothing! Thou wouldst have me ruin a man who
has been my friend, to whom I owe much gratitude, who has served me long
and faithfully; and this without offence from his side. Rather will I
shelter him from thy revenge, knowing as I do the impure source from
which it springs."

"My father!"

"Thou desirest the ruin of this man, because he hindered thee from
taking forcible possession of the granddaughter of Rhodopis, and because
thine own incapacity moved me to place him in thy room as commander
of the troops. Ah! thou growest pale! Verily, I owe Phanes thanks for
confiding to me your vile intentions, and so enabling me to bind my
friends and supporters, to whom Rhodopis is precious, more firmly to my
throne."

"And is it thus thou speakest of these strangers, my father? dost thou
thus forget the ancient glory of Egypt? Despise me, if thou wilt; I know
thou lovest me not; but say not that to be great we need the help of
strangers! Look back on our history! Were we not greatest when our gates
were closed to the stranger, when we depended on ourselves and our own
strength, and lived according to the ancient laws of our ancestors
and our gods? Those days beheld the most distant lands subjugated by
Rameses, and heard Egypt celebrated in the whole world as its first and
greatest nation. What are we now? The king himself calls beggars and
foreigners the supporters of his throne, and devises a petty stratagem
to secure the friendship of a power over whom we were victorious before
the Nile was infested by these strangers. Egypt was then a mighty Queen
in glorious apparel; she is now a painted woman decked out in tinsel!"

   [Rameses the Great, son of Sethos, reigned over Egypt 1394-1328 B.
   C. He was called Sesostris by the Greeks; see Lepsius (Chron. d.
   Aegypter, p. 538.) on the manner in which this confusion of names
   arose. Egypt attained the zenith of her power under this king,
   whose army, according to Diodorus (I. 53-58). consisted of 600,000
   foot and 24,000 horsemen, 27,000 chariots and 400 ships of war.
   With these hosts he subdued many of the Asiatic and African nations,
   carving his name and likeness, as trophies of victory, on the rocks
   of the conquered countries. Herodotus speaks of having seen two of
   these inscriptions himself (II. 102-106.) and two are still to be
   found not far from Bairut.  His conquests brought vast sums of
   tribute into Egypt. Tacitus annal. II. 60. and these enabled him to
   erect magnificent buildings in the whole length of his land from
   Nubia to Tanis, but more especially in Thebes, the city in which he
   resided. One of the obelisks erected by Rameses at Heliopolis is
   now standing in the Place de la Concorde at Paris, and has been
   lately translated by E. Chabas. On the walls of the yet remaining
   palaces and temples, built under this mighty king, we find, even to
   this day, thousands of pictures representing himself, his armed
   hosts, the many nations subdued by the power of his arms, and the
   divinities to whose favor he believed these victories were owing.
   Among the latter Ammon and Bast seem to have received his especial
   veneration, and, on the other hand, we read in these inscriptions
   that the gods were very willing to grant the wishes of their
   favorite. A poetical description of the wars he waged with the
   Cheta is to be found in long lines of hieroglyphics on the south
   wall of the hall of columns of Rameses II. at Karnal, also at Luxor
   and in the Sallier Papyrus, and an epic poem referring to his mighty
   deeds in no less than six different places.]

"Have a care what thou sayest!" shouted Amasis stamping on the floor.
"Egypt was never so great, so flourishing as now! Rameses carried our
arms into distant lands and earned blood; through my labors the products
of our industry have been carried to all parts of the world and instead
of blood, have brought us treasure and blessing. Rameses caused the
blood and sweat of his subjects to flow in streams for the honor of his
own great name; under my rule their blood flows rarely, and the sweat
of their brow only in works of usefulness. Every citizen can now end his
days in prosperity and comfort. Ten thousand populous cities rise on the
shores of the Nile, not a foot of the soil lies untilled, every child
enjoys the protection of law and justice, and every ill-doer shuns the
watchful eye of the authorities.

"In case of attack from without, have we not, as defenders of those
god-given bulwarks, our cataracts, our sea and our deserts, the finest
army that ever bore arms? Thirty thousand Hellenes beside our entire
Egyptian military caste? such is the present condition of Egypt! Rameses
purchased the bright tinsel of empty fame with the blood and tears of
his people. To me they are indebted for the pure gold of a peaceful
welfare as citizens--to me and to my predecessors, the Saitic kings!"

   [The science of fortification was very fairly understood by the
   ancient Egyptians. Walled and battlemented forts are to be seen
   depicted on their monuments. We have already endeavored to show
   (see our work on Egypt. I. 78 and following) that, on the northeast,
   Egypt defended from Asiatic invasion by a line of forts extending
   from Pelusium to the Red Sea.]

"And yet I tell thee," cried the prince, "that a worm is gnawing at the
root of Egypt's greatness and her life. This struggle for riches and
splendor corrupts the hearts of the people, foreign luxury has given a
deadly blow to the simple manners of our citizens, and many an Egyptian
has been taught by the Greeks to scoff at the gods of his fathers. Every
day brings news of bloody strife between the Greek mercenaries and our
native soldiery, between our own people and the strangers. The shepherd
and his flock are at variance; the wheels of the state machinery are
grinding one another and thus the state itself, into total ruin. This
once, father, though never again, I must speak out clearly what is
weighing on my heart. While engaged in contending with the priests, thou
hast seen with calmness the young might of Persia roll on from the East,
consuming the nations on its way, and, like a devouring monster, growing
more and more formidable from every fresh prey. Thine aid was not, as
thou hadst intended, given to the Lydians and Babylonians against the
enemy, but to the Greeks in the building of temples to their false gods.
At last resistance seemed hopeless; a whole hemisphere with its rulers
lay in submission at the feet of Persia; but even then the gods
willed Egypt a chance of deliverance. Cambyses desired thy daughter in
marriage. Thou, however, too weak to sacrifice thine own flesh and blood
for the good of all, hast substituted another maiden, not thine own
child, as an offering to the mighty monarch; and at the same time, in
thy soft-heartedness, wilt spare the life of a stranger in whose hand he
the fortunes of this realm, and who will assuredly work its ruin; unless
indeed, worn out by internal dissension, it perish even sooner from its
own weakness!"

Thus far Amasis had listened to these revilings of all he held dearest
in silence, though pale, and trembling with rage; but now he broke forth
in a voice, the trumpet-like sound of which pealed through the wide
hall: "Know'st thou not then, thou boasting and revengeful son of evil,
thou future destroyer of this ancient and glorious kingdom, know'st
thou not whose life must be the sacrifice, were not my children, and the
dynasty which I have founded, dearer to me than the welfare of the whole
realm? Thou, Psamtik, thou art the man, branded by the gods, feared by
men--the man to whose heart love and friendship are strangers, whose
face is never seen to smile, nor his soul known to feel compassion!
It is not, however, through thine own sin that thy nature is thus
unblessed, that all thine undertakings end unhappily. Give heed, for now
I am forced to relate what I had hoped long to keep secret from thine
ears. After dethroning my predecessor, I forced him to give me his
sister Tentcheta in marriage. She loved me; a year after marriage there
was promise of a child. During the night preceding thy birth I fell
asleep at the bedside of my wife. I dreamed that she was lying on the
shores of the Nile, and complained to me of pain in the breast. Bending
down, I beheld a cypress-tree springing from her heart. It grew larger
and larger, black and spreading, twined its roots around thy mother and
strangled her. A cold shiver seized me, and I was on the point of flying
from the spot, when a fierce hurricane came from the East, struck the
tree and overthrew it, so that its spreading branches were cast into the
Nile. Then the waters ceased to flow; they congealed, and, in place
of the river, a gigantic mummy lay before me. The towns on its banks
dwindled into huge funereal urns, surrounding the vast corpse of the
Nile as in a tomb. At this I awoke and caused the interpreters of dreams
to be summoned. None could explain the vision, till at last the priests
of the Libyan Ammon gave me the following interpretation 'Tentcheta will
die in giving birth to a son. The cypress, which strangled its mother,
is this gloomy, unhappy man. In his days a people shall come from the
East and shall make of the Nile, that is of the Egyptians, dead bodies,
and of their cities ruinous heaps; these are the urns for the dead,
which thou sawest."

Psamtik listened as if turned into stone; his father continued; "Thy
mother died in giving birth to thee; fiery-red hair, the mark of the
sons of Typhon, grew around thy brow; thou becam'st a gloomy man.
Misfortune pursued thee and robbed thee of a beloved wife and four of
thy children. The astrologers computed that even as I had been born
under the fortunate sign of Amman, so thy birth had been watched over
by the rise of the awful planet Seb. Thou..." But here Amasis broke off,
for Psamtik, in the anguish produced by these fearful disclosures had
given way, and with sobs and groans, cried:

"Cease, cruel father! spare me at least the bitter words, that I am the
only son in Egypt who is hated by his father without cause!"

Amasis looked down on the wretched man who had sunk to the earth before
him, his face hidden in the folds of his robe, and the father's wrath
was changed to compassion. He thought of Psamtik's mother, dead forty
years before, and felt he had been cruel in inflicting this poisonous
wound on her son's soul. It was the first time for years, that he had
been able to feel towards this cold strange man, as a father and a
comforter. For the first time he saw tears in the cold eyes of his son,
and could feel the joy of wiping them away. He seized the opportunity
at once, and bending clown over the groaning form, kissed his forehead,
raised him from the ground and said gently:

"Forgive my anger, my son! the words that have grieved thee came not
from my heart, but were spoken in the haste of wrath. Many years hast
thou angered me by thy coldness, hardness and obstinacy; to-day thou
hast wounded me again in my most sacred feelings; this hurried me into
an excess of wrath. But now all is right between us. Our natures are so
diverse that our innermost feelings will never be one, but at least we
can act in concert for the future, and show forbearance one towards the
other."

In silence Psamtik bowed down and kissed his fat

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