No More Learning

"But, if you are alive and safe, appear to me, my life, in a dream; and
repose with me, but preserve, even then, the respect you have sworn
to your betrothed. " So saying, she flung herself on the bed, embraced
and kissed it; till sobs and groans, fatigue and grief, gradually
overwhelmed with a cloud all her reasoning faculties; and she sunk,
at last, into a deep sleep, which continued till late the following
morning.

Calasiris, wondering that she did not appear as usual, went up to her
chamber to inquire after her; where, knocking loudly at the door,
and calling her repeatedly by her name, he at length awakened her.
She, alarmed at this sudden call, and confused at the disorder both
of her person and apartment; yet, went to the door, unbolted it,
and let him in. He, when he saw her hair dishevelled, her garments
torn, her eyes restless, and breathing still too much of that passion
with which they had been inflamed before she dropped asleep, began
to suspect something of the cause of this agitation. Leading her,
therefore, again to the bed, placing her upon it, and helping her to
compose her dress a little--"Why, Chariclea," says he, "do you indulge
these transports? Why do you grieve thus beyond measure, and abjectly
sink under the calamities which oppress you? I am now at a loss to
discover that nobleness of mind, and chastened spirit, with which
you have hitherto borne your ills. Have done with these unbecoming
extravagancies--consider that you are a mortal creature;[3] a thing
unstable, subject to the blasts of good and evil fortune. Why abandon
yourself to despair, perhaps, on the eve of a change of fortune?
Preserve yourself, my child; if not for your own sake, at least for
Theagenes, who lives only in and for you. "

Chariclea blushed at his chiding, and at the circumstances in which he
had surprised her. She was for some time silent. At last she said--"You
have reason, I own, to blame me, Father: but, perhaps, you will not
think me without excuse. My love for Theagenes is no new or vulgar
passion, but pure and chaste; it is directed towards one who, though
not my wedded husband, is my betrothed: I am grieved and disappointed
at not seeing him return with you; and am in a thousand doubts and
fears about his life and safety. "

"Be comforted then," replied Calasiris, "trust in the oracles of the
gods, and believe, that under their guidance and protection, he is both
safe and well. You should remember what we heard yesterday--that he
was taken by Thyamis, as he was being carried to Memphis; and, if he
is in his power, you may be satisfied that he is safe; for there was
a friendship between them even before. It is our business now to make
what haste we can to the town of Bessa, in order to seek, you for your
lover, and I for my son; for you have already heard that Thyamis stands
in that relation to me. "

Chariclea appeared very pensive at this. --"If indeed," said she, "this
is your son, and not some other Thyamis, our affairs are in great
jeopardy. " Calasiris wondering at, and inquiring the cause of, her
apprehensions,--"You know," she continued, "that I was for some time in
the power of the pirates: there these unhappy features of mine inspired
Thyamis with love. I fear lest, if in our inquiry we should meet with
him, he should immediately recognize me, and compel me to a marriage
which, on various pretences, I before with difficulty eluded. "--"I
trust," said the old man, "that the sight of me will inspire him
with reverence and respect, and that a father's eye will repress and
restrain his intemperate desires: however, there is no reason why we
should not endeavour, by some artifice, to guard against what you fear;
and you seem expert at finding out excuses and delays, against those
who show themselves too pressing. "

Chariclea, recovering her spirits a little at this pleasantry--"I
do not know whether you are in jest or earnest:" said she, "but I
can relate to you the contrivance of Theagenes and myself, when we
attempted to make our escape from the pirates' island; and, if you
approve of it, we may make use now of the same stratagem; and may it be
more fortunate than it was then! We determined to change our garments,
to metamorphose ourselves into beggars, and in this squalid garb to
pass through the towns and villages. Let us now then, if you please,
put on the appearance of wretchedness: we shall be less subject to
inquiry and observation. The greatest security is found in the lowest
estate. Poverty is an object of pity, not of envy; and we shall more
easily procure our daily bread: for, in a foreign land, every thing is
sold dear to strangers; but is cheaply given to the wretched. "

Calasiris approved of the project, and besought her to be ready as
soon as possible to set out. They acquainted Nausicles and Cnemon
with their intentions, and in three days were prepared to enter on
their expedition. They took no beast of burden with them, though they
might have had one, nor suffered any one to attend them. Nausicles and
Cnemon, and all their family, accompanied them as far as they would
permit it. Nausiclea, too, having by earnest entreaties obtained her
father's permission, set out with her friend; her love for Chariclea
making her break through that reserve and retirement which young women
are expected to preserve during the first days of their nuptials. They
accompanied them about half a mile; and then, saluting each other,
and mingling tears and every good wish with their embraces, they took
their leave. Cnemon repeatedly besought them to pardon those nuptial
engagements which prevented his going with them; and promised that,
whenever he had an opportunity, he would endeavour to find them out.

At length they separated. Nausicles, and his train, took the road to
Chemmis. Chariclea and Calasiris began the transformation which they
had meditated, and clothed themselves in tattered garments, which
they had got ready. She stained her cheeks with a compound of soot
and dust,[4] and threw an old torn veil negligently over her face.
She carried a bag under her arm, which had the appearance of being a
receptacle for scraps and broken victuals, but contained, in reality,
the sacred vestments she had brought from Delphi--her garlands, and the
precious tokens which her mother had exposed with her.

Calasiris carried her quiver, wrapt up in a piece of old leather, as
a burden, across his shoulders; and, loosening the string of her bow,
made use of it as a walking-stick. If any one approached, he leant
heavily upon it, stooping more than his years actually obliged him to
do; and, limping with one leg, suffered himself frequently to be led by
Chariclea.

When the metamorphosis was completed they could not help smiling at
each other's appearance, and, in the midst of their grief, a few jokes
upon it escaped them; and beseeching the deities who persecuted them to
cease at length from their anger, they made what haste they could to
the town of Bessa, where they hoped to find Theagenes and Thyamis. But
in this they were disappointed; for arriving near Bessa at sun-setting,
they saw the ground strewed with a considerable number of dead bodies,
newly slain; most of them were Persians, whom they knew by their
habits, but some were the natives of the place. They conjectured this
to have been the work of war, but were at a loss to know who had been
the combatants. At length, while they were searching and examining the
corpses, dreading lest they might find a friend among them (for strong
affection is unreasonably apprehensive on the slightest grounds), they
saw an old woman, hanging over the body of one of the natives, and
loud in her lamentations. They resolved therefore to endeavour to get
what intelligence they could from her; and, accosting her, they first
tried to soothe her vehement affliction; and then, when she became a
little calmer, Calasiris, in the Egyptian tongue, ventured to ask her
what was the cause of the slaughter they saw before them, and who it
was whom she so lamented. She answered, briefly, that she was mourning
for her son; that she came on purpose to the field of battle that
some one of the combatants, if any should return, might deprive her
of life, now become a burden to her; that meanwhile, amid tears and
lamentations, she was endeavouring, as well as she could, to perform
funeral rites for her child. The cause of the engagement, says she, was
as follows:--"A foreign youth, of remarkable beauty and stature, was
proceeding under the direction of Mithranes, the Persian Commandant,
in his way to Memphis, where he was to be presented to Oroondates,
the Viceroy of the Great King. Mithranes had taken him captive, and
thought he could not offer a more agreeable gift. The inhabitants of
our town pretending, whether truly or not I cannot say, that they had
some knowledge of this young man, came suddenly upon the soldiers
of Mithranes, and rescued him. Mithranes, when he heard of it, was
violently enraged, and two days ago led his troops against the town.
My countrymen are used to war; they lead a piratical life, and despise
death when gain or revenge are in view. Many are the widows and orphans
they have made, and many mothers have they deprived of their children,
as I, unhappy woman, am at this day. As soon, therefore, as they had
certain intelligence of the Persians' expedition, they left the city,
chose a proper place for an ambuscade, and posting, in concealment,
a select body of troops where they knew the enemy must pass, as soon
as they appeared, attacked them resolutely in front, while the rest
of their companions rushed suddenly, with a great shout, from their
ambush, fell upon their flank, and soon put them to the rout. Mithranes
fell among the first, and most of his troops with him; for they were so
surrounded, that there was little opportunity for flight. A few of our
people were slain, and among those few my son, transfixed, as you see,
with a Persian dart; and now I, unhappy that I am, am bewailing his
loss; and, perhaps, am still reserved to lament that of the only son I
have now left, who marched yesterday with the army against the city of
Memphis. "

Calasiris inquired into the cause of this expedition. The old woman
told him what she had heard from her son: That the inhabitants of
Bessa, after they had slaughtered the officer and soldiers of the
Great King, saw plainly that there was no room for excuse or pardon;
that Oroondates, as soon as the intelligence reached Memphis, would
immediately set out with his army,[5] surround, besiege, and utterly
destroy their town; that therefore they had resolved to follow up one
bold deed by a bolder; to anticipate the preparations of the Viceroy;
to march, in short, without delay to Memphis, where, if they could
arrive unexpectedly, they might possibly surprise and seize his person,
if he were in the city; or if he were gone, as was reported, upon
an expedition into Ethiopia, they might more easily make themselves
masters of a place which was drained of its troops, and so might
for some time ward off their danger; and could also reinstate their
captain, Thyamis, in the priesthood, of which he had been unjustly
deprived by his younger brother. But if they should fail in the bold
attempt, they would have the advantage of dying in the field, like men,
and escape falling into the hands of the Persians, and being exposed
to their insults and tortures. "But, as for you," continued the old
woman, "where are you going? "--"Into the town," said Calasiris. --"It
is not safe for you," returned she, "at this late hour, and unknown as
you are, to go among strangers. "--"But if you will receive us into your
house," replied the other, "we shall think ourselves safe. "--"I cannot
receive you just at this time," said she, "for I must now perform
some nocturnal sacrifices. But if you can endure it--and indeed you
must do so, retire to some distance from the slain, and endeavour to
pass the night as well as you can in the plain; in the morning I will
gladly receive and entertain you as my guests. " When she had said this,
Calasiris took Chariclea, and shortly explained to her what had passed
between them; and going to a rising ground, not very far from the field
of battle, he there reclined himself, putting the quiver under his head.

Chariclea sat down on her wallet--the moon just rising, and beginning
to illuminate all around with her silver light; for it was the third
day from the full. Calasiris, old, and fatigued with his journey,
dropped asleep; but Chariclea's cares kept her waking, and made her
spectatress of an impious and accursed scene, but not an unusual one,
among the Egyptians. For[6] now the old woman, supposing herself at
liberty, and unobserved, dug a sort of pit, and lighted a fire of
sticks which she had collected together, on each side of it. Between
the two fires she placed the dead body of her son, and taking an
earthen cup from a neighbouring tripod, she poured first honey into the
trench, then milk, and then wine. She next worked up a kind of paste
of dough into something of the similitude of a man, and crowning it
with laurel and fennel, cast that too into the ditch. Then snatching up
a sword, with many frantic gestures and barbarous invocations to the
moon, in an unknown tongue, she wounded herself in the arm, and dipping
a branch of laurel in her blood, sprinkled it over the fire. And after
many other wild and mystic ceremonies, she stooped down at length to
the corpse of her son, whispered something in its ear, and, by the
power of her spells, raised and forced it to stand upright.

Chariclea, who had observed the former part of this ceremony, not
without apprehension, was now seized with affright and horror, and
awakened Calasiris, that he too might be a spectator of what was being
done. They, being themselves shrouded in darkness, observed in security
what passed by the light of the fires, and were near enough too to hear
what was said; the old woman now questioning the dead body in a loud
voice,--"Whether its brother, her son, would return in safety? "--it
answered nothing; but nodding its head by a doubtful signal, gave its
mother room to hope, and then, on a sudden, fell down again upon its
face. She turned the body on its back, repeated her question, and
whispered, as it should seem, still stronger charms in its ear; and
brandishing her sword now over the fire, and now over the trench,
raised the corpse again, and putting the same interrogation to it,
urged it to answer her, not by nods and signs only, but in actual and
distinct words.

Here Chariclea addressed Calasiris, and besought him to approach, and
ask something about Theagenes; but he refused altogether; declaring,
that it was much against his inclination that he became a compulsory
spectator of so impious a scene; for it did not become a priest
to be present at, much less to take a part in, such a deed. --"Our
divinations," said he, "are made by means of lawful sacrifices, and
pure prayers; not by profane ceremonies, and unhallowed conjurations
of dead carcases, such as our wayward fate has now obliged us to be
witnesses of. " But while he was proceeding, the body, with a deep and
hollow voice, began to speak, as if its words were uttered from the
inmost recesses of a winding cave. "I spared you at first, Ο mother,
although you were transgressing the laws of nature, disregarding the
decrees of the fates, and disturbing by your enchantments, what ought
to remain at rest. There is, even among the departed, a reverence for
parents; but since, as far as in you lies, you destroy that reverence,
and persist in pushing your wicked incantations to the utmost--since
you are not content with raising up a dead body, and forcing it to make
signs, but will proceed to compel it to speak; regardless of the care
you owe to your son's remains, preventing his shade from mixing with
those who are gone before him, and mindful only of your own private
convenience and curiosity--hear what I piously avoided disclosing to
you before:

"Your son shall return no more; and you yourself shall perish by the
sword, and shortly conclude your course by a violent death, worthy of
the execrable practices in which you have spent your life; you who are
not now alone, as you suppose yourself; but are performing your horrid
rites, worthy of being buried in the deepest silence and darkness,
in the sight of others, and betraying the secrets of the dead in the
hearing of witnesses. One of them is a priest; and his wisdom indeed
is such, that he may perhaps see the propriety of concealing what he
has seen. He is dear to the gods; and if he hastens his journey, he may
prevent his sons from engaging singly with each other in a bloody and
deadly fight, and compose their differences. But what is infinitely
worse, a maiden has heard and seen everything which has taken place.
She is deeply in love, and is wandering through the world in search
of her lover, whom, after many toils and dangers, she shall at last
obtain, and, in a remote corner of the earth, pass with him a splendid
and royal life. "

Having said this, the body fell again prone on the ground. The old
woman concluding that the strangers were the spectators meant, ran
furiously, in all the disorder of her dress, and sword in hand, to
seek for them among the dead, where she imagined they had concealed
themselves; determined to destroy, if she could find them, the
witnesses of her abominable incantations. But while searching
incautiously among the carcases, and blinded by her fury, she stumbled,
and fell headlong upon a fragment of a spear stuck upright in the
earth, which, piercing through her body, soon put an end to her wicked
life, and quickly fulfilled the fatal prophecy of her son.


[Footnote 1: See Book V. ]

[Footnote 2: A bird, the brains and tongue of which were highly
esteemed by Roman epicures. Rich men's slaves used to take lessons in
carving this, and other choice dishes, practising upon wooden models.

"Sumine cum magno lepus, atque aper et pygargus,
Et Scythicæ volucres, et _phœnicopterus_ ingens,
Et Gætulus oryx, hebeti lautissima ferro,
Cæditur, et totâ sonat ulmea cœna Suburrâ. "
Juv. XI. 138.

Those who are curious in the matter of good eating among the ancients,
may read with advantage the Feast of Trimalcio, in Petronius Arbiter,
and the concluding chorus in the Ecclesiazusæ of Aristophanes. ]

[Footnote 3:

". . . ye men, ye brittle things, mere images of clay,
Ye flitting leaves, ye shadowy shapes, ye creatures of a day,
Poor, wingless wretched mortals ye, like nothing but a dream. "
Aristoph. Birds, 676. Cary's Tr.
]

[Footnote 4:

". . . . Whiles I may 'scape
I will preserve myself, and am bethought
To take the basest and the poorest shape
That ever penury, in contempt of man,
Brought near to beast. My face I'll grime with filth;
Blanket my loins; elfe all my hair in knots;
And with presented nakedness, out-face
The winds, and persecutions of the sky. "--King Lear.
]

[Footnote 5: Σαγηνεύσοντας τὴν κώμην. See Book I. ]

[Footnote 6: See Lucan, Book vi. , 667-761, where Erichtho brings the
dead to life in order to obtain a response as to the future success of
Pompey. ]




BOOK VII.


On the other hand, Calasiris and his fair companion, having been in
such danger, in order to be free from their present terrors, and
hastening, on account of the prophecy they had heard, continued, with
diligence, their journey to Memphis. They arrived at the city at
the very time when those events were being fulfilled which had been
foretold in the incantation scene. [1] The citizens of Memphis had just
time to shut their gates, before the arrival of Thyamis and his robber
band; a soldier from the army of Mithranes, who had escaped from the
battle of Bessa having foreseen, and foretold, the attempt.

Thyamis having ordered his men to encamp under the walls, rested them
after the fatigues of their march; and determined forthwith to besiege
the city. They in the town who, surprised at first, expected the attack
of a numerous army, when they saw from their walls the small number
of their assailants, put themselves in motion, and collecting the
few troops, archers and cavalry, left for the defence of the place,
and arming the citizens as best they could, were preparing to issue
out of the gates, and attack their enemy in the field. But they were
restrained by a man of some years and authority among them, who said,
that although the Viceroy Oroondates was absent in the Ethiopian war,
it would be improper for them to take any step without the knowledge
and direction of his wife, Arsace; and that the soldiers who were left,
would engage much more heartily in the cause, if fighting under her
orders.

The multitude joined with him in opinion, and followed him to the
palace which the viceroy inhabited in the absence of the sovereign.
Arsace[2] was beautiful, and tall; expert in business; haughty because
of her birth, as being the sister of the Great King; extremely
blameable, however, in her conduct, and given up to dissolute
pleasure. She had, in a great measure, been the cause of the exile of
Thyamis: for when Calasiris, on account of the oracle which he had
received relative to his children, had withdrawn himself privately
from Memphis,[3] and on his disappearing, was thought to have
perished; Thyamis, as his eldest son, was called to the dignity of the
priesthood, and performed his initiatory sacrifice in public. Arsace,
as she entered the temple of Isis, encountered this blooming and
graceful youth, dressed on the occasion with more than usual splendour.
She cast wanton glances at him, and by her gestures gave plain
intimation of her passion. [4] He, naturally modest, and virtuously
brought up, did not notice this, and had no suspicion of her meaning,
nay, intent on the duties of his office, probably attributed her
conduct to some quite different cause. But his brother Petosiris, who
had viewed with jealous eyes his exaltation to the priesthood, and had
observed the behaviour of Arsace towards him, considered how he might
make use of her irregular desires, as a means of laying a snare for him
whom he envied.

He went privately to Oroondates, discovered to him his wife's
inclinations, and basely and falsely affirmed that Thyamis complied
with them. Oroondates was easily persuaded of the truth of this
intelligence, from his previous suspicions; but took no notice of
it to her, being unable clearly to convict her; and dreading and
respecting the royal race she sprang from, thought it best to conceal
his real opinion. He did not, however, cease uttering threats of death
against Thyamis, until he drove him into banishment; when Petosiris was
appointed to the priesthood in his room.

These events happened some years before the time of which I am at
present speaking. But now the multitude surrounded the palace of
Arsace, informed her of the approach of a hostile army (of which
however she was aware) and besought her to give orders to the soldiers
to march out with them to attack the enemy.

She told them that she thought she ought not to comply with their
request, till she had made herself a little acquainted with the number
of the enemy--who they were--from whence they came--and what was the
cause of their expedition. That for that purpose she thought it would
be proper for her first to ascend the walls, to take a survey from
thence; and then having collected more troops, to determine, upon
consideration, what was possible and expedient to be done.

The people acquiesced in what she said, and advanced at once towards
the wall; where, by her command, they erected upon the ramparts a tent,
adorned with purple and gold-embroidered tapestry; and she, royally
attired, placed herself under it, on a lofty throne, having around her,
her guards in arms, glittering with gold; and holding up a herald's
wand,[5] the symbol of peace, invited the chiefs of the enemy to a
conference under the walls.

Thyamis and Theagenes advanced before the rest, and presented
themselves under the ramparts, in complete armour, their heads only
uncovered: and the herald made proclamation:--

"Arsace, wife of the chief viceroy, and sister of the Great King,
desires to know who you are--what are your demands--and why you presume
to make incursions into the territory of Memphis? "--They replied, that
their followers were men of Bessa. --Thyamis, moreover, explained who
he was: how being unjustly deprived of the priesthood of Memphis by
the suspicions of Oroondates, and the arts of his brother Petosiris,
he was come to claim it again at the head of these bands--that if they
would restore him to his office, he asked no more; and his followers
would withdraw in peace, without injuring any one; but if they refused
this just demand, he must endeavour to do himself justice by force and
arms--that it became Arsace to revenge herself upon Petosiris for his
wicked calumnies against her; by which he had infused into the mind
of her husband suspicions against her honour; and had driven him, his
brother, into exile.

These words made a great impression upon the citizens: they well
recollected Thyamis again; and now knowing the cause of his unexpected
flight, of which they were ignorant before, they were very much
disposed to believe that what he now alleged was truth. But Arsace was
more disturbed than any one, and distracted by a tempest of different
cares and thoughts. She was inflamed with anger against Petosiris,
and calling to mind the past, resolved how she might best revenge
herself upon him. She looked sometimes at Thyamis, and then again at
Theagenes: and was alternately drawn by her desires towards both. Her
old inclination to the former revived; towards the latter a new and
stronger flame, hurried her away: so that her emotion was very visible
to all the by-standers. After some struggle, however, recovering
herself, as if from convulsive seizure, she said, "What madness has
engaged the inhabitants of Bessa in this expedition? and you, beautiful
and graceful youths of noble birth, why should you expose yourselves
to manifest destruction for a band of marauders, who, if they were to
come to a battle, would not be able to sustain the first shock? for
the troops of the Great King are not so reduced as not to have left
a sufficient force in the city to surround and overwhelm all of you,
although the viceroy be absent in a foreign war. But since the pretext
of this expedition is of a private nature, why should the people at
large be sufferers in a quarrel in which they have no concern? Rather
let the parties determine their dispute between themselves, and commit
their cause to the justice and judgment of the gods. Let, then, the
inhabitants both of Memphis and the men of Bessa remain at peace; nor
causelessly wage war against each other. Let those who contend for the
priesthood engage in single combat, and be the holy dignity the prize
of the conqueror. "

Arsace was heard by the inhabitants of Memphis with pleasure, and her
proposal was received with their unanimous applause. They suspected
the wickedness and treachery of Petosiris, and were pleased with the
prospect of transferring to his single person the sudden danger which
threatened the whole community. But the bands of Bessa did not so
readily agree; they were at first very averse to expose their leader
to peril on their behalf, until Thyamis at length persuaded them
to consent; representing to them the weakness and unskilfulness of
Petosoris, whereas he should engage in the combat with every possible
advantage on his side. This reflection probably influenced Arsace in
proposing the single combat. She hoped to obtain by it her real aim,
revenge upon Petosiris, exposing him to fight with one so much his
superior in skill and courage.

The preparations for the encounter were now made with all celerity;
Thyamis, with the utmost alacrity, hastening to put on what still he
wanted to complete his armour. Theagenes encouraging him, securely
buckled on his arms, and placed, lastly, a helmet on his head, flashing
with gold, and with a lofty crest.

On the other hand, Petosiris protested against the combat. He was
obliged by violence to put on his arms; and, by the command of Arsace,
was thrust out of the gates. Thyamis seeing him--"Do you observe,
Theagenes," said he, "how Petosiris shakes with fear? "--"Yes," replied
the other; "but how (resumed he) will you use the victory which seems
ready to your hands; for it is no common foe whom you are going to
encounter, but a brother? "--"You say well;" he returned, "and have
touched the very subject of my thoughts. I intend to conquer him with
the assistance of the gods, but not to kill him. Far be it from me
to suffer myself to be so far transported by anger, resentment, or
ambition, as to pursue revenge for past injuries, or purchase future
honours at the expense of a brother's blood! "

"You speak nobly," said Theagenes; "and as one who feels the force
of natural ties; but have you any commands for me? "--"The combat I
am going to engage in," said Thyamis, "is a mere trifle, fit to be
despised; but since Fortune sometimes sports with mortals, and strange
accidents happen, I will just say, that if I prove victor, you shall
accompany me into the city, live with me, and partake equally with
myself, of everything which my fortune and station can afford. But if,
contrary to my expectation, I should be vanquished, you shall command
the bands of Bessa, with whom you are in great favour, and shall lead
for a time the life of a freebooter, till the Deity shall place you in
more prosperous circumstances. " Having said this, they embraced each
other with great affection; and Theagenes sat down to observe the issue
of the fight.

In this situation he unconsciously afforded Arsace an opportunity
of feeding herself upon his presence, as she surveyed his person,
and gratified at least her eyes. [6] And now Thyamis advanced towards
Petosiris; but Petosiris could not sustain his approach, and on
his first movement turned about towards the gate, and attempted to
re-enter the city, but in vain; for those who were stationed at the
entrance drove him back; and those who were upon the walls gave notice
throughout the whole circuit of the place, that he should nowhere
be admitted. He fled then as fast as he could around the city, and
at length threw away his arms. Thyamis pursued him; and Theagenes
followed, solicitous for his friend, and desirous of seeing what would
happen. He took no arms with him, lest it might appear that he came
to assist Thyamis; but, placing his spear and shield where he had
before sat, and leaving them for Arsace to contemplate in his stead, he
attended closely on the steps of the brothers.

Petosiris was not yet taken, nor was he far in advance; he was every
minute in danger of being reached, and had only so much the advantage
of the course, as it was reasonable to suppose an unarmed man would
have over one who was in armour. In this manner they twice circled the
walls; but the third time Thyamis approached near enough to threaten
the back of his brother with his spear. He called on him to stop and
turn, if he would avoid receiving a wound; the multitude meanwhile
upon the walls, as in a theatre, being spectators and judges of the
contest.

Just at this instant, either the interposition of the Deity, or the
caprice of Fortune, who rules the affairs of men, introduced an episode
upon the stage, and supplied, as if out of rivalry, a beginning for
another drama. Calasiris, who had submitted to a voluntary exile, and
had supported innumerable perils, both by sea and land, in order to
avoid the dreadful sight, was brought to the spot at that very hour,
and compelled by inevitable fate to become a witness of the encounter
of his sons, as the oracle had long ago foretold he should be. As soon
as he arrived near enough to see what was passing under the walls of
Memphis--when he recognised his children, recollected the prophecy, and
saw the arms of one of them raised against the other, he hastened with
greater speed than his age seemed to admit of, (doing violence to his
weight of years), to prevent the dreaded issue of the combat.

Having nearly reached them, he exclaimed with all his might--"My
children! what mean you? what madness is this! " They, intent on what
they were themselves engaged in, did not recognise their father,
covered as he was with beggar's weeds, but took him for some wandering
vagrant, who was probably beside himself. Those who were on the walls,
wondered at his so rashly exposing himself between the combatants.
Others laughed at what they thought his mad and fruitless efforts.
When the good old man perceived that he was not known under these mean
garments, he cast aside the tatters under which he was disguised; let
his sacred locks flow down upon his shoulders, threw away his scrip
and staff, and stood before them with a reverend and priest-like
aspect; gently inclining his body, and stretching out his hands as a
suppliant: his tears flowed apace, while he exclaimed--"O my sons, I
am Calasiris--I am your father--stay your hands--repress your fatal
rage--receive, acknowledge, and reverence your parent. "

Almost ready to swoon, the young men slackened in their course, and
cast themselves before his feet, hardly believing what they saw; but
when they were convinced that it was really Calasiris, and no phantom,
they embraced his knees, and clung to him, their minds labouring
with various and conflicting feelings. They were rejoiced at seeing
their father unexpectedly safe--they were ashamed and hurt at the
circumstances in which he had found them--they were confused and
solicitous at the uncertainty of what was to follow.

The spectators from the city gazed with wonder at what was passing,
and observed it in silence, without interfering. They were, in a
manner, astounded with ignorance and surprise, and stood like figures
on a painter's canvas, rivetted upon the scene before them, when lo!
a new actress made her appearance on the stage. Chariclea followed
close after Calasiris. The eye of a lover is quick as lightning in
recognising the object of its passion--a single gesture, the fold of
a garment, seen behind, or at a distance, is sufficient to confirm
its conjectures. When she knew Theagenes afar off, transported at the
long-wished-for sight, she ran frantickly towards him, and, falling
on his neck, embraced him closely, breathing out her passion in
inarticulate murmurs.

He, when he saw a squalid face, disguised, and industriously
discoloured, her tattered garments, and vile appearance, repulsed and
threw her from him with disgust, as some common beggar; and when she
still persisted, and hindered his seeing Calasiris and his children,
he smote her on the face. She softly said to him--"O Pythias, have you
then forgotten the torch? " He, startled as at the sudden stroke of an
arrow, recognized the token which had been agreed upon between them;
and, looking at the countenance of Chariclea, which broke on him like
the sun from behind a cloud, rushed into her embrace.
All those upon
the walls, including Arsace herself, who swelled with displeasure and
already viewed Chariclea with jealous eyes, were overcome with wonder,
as at some scenic exhibition.

The unnatural warfare between the brothers was now ended; the tragedy
which threatened blood, had passed into a comedy. The father, who had
seen them armed against each other, and had nearly been a spectator of
the wounds of one of them, became the instrument of peace. [7] He who
was unable to avoid the fated spectacle of his sons' hostilities, was
fortunate enough to rule the issue of what fate had ordered.

They recovered their father after a ten years' exile; and they hastened
to crown and invest him again with the ensigns of that dignity, which
had nearly been the cause of a bloody contest between them. But amid
all these successes the love scene of the drama triumphed--Theagenes
and Chariclea, blooming in youth and beauty, and sparkling with
pleasure at having recovered one another, attracted the eyes of every
beholder. Nearly the whole city poured out through the gates, and a
multitude of every age and sex hurried into the plain. The young men
surrounded Theagenes; those in the prime of life, and who had formerly
known him, crowded round Thyamis; the maidens who already indulged in
dreams of wedlock followed Chariclea; the old men and priests attended
upon and congratuled Calasiris:--thus a kind of sacred procession was
formed upon the instant.

Thyamis dismissed the men of Bessa with much gratitude, and many thanks
for their ready assistance. He promised by the next full moon to send
them a hundred oxen, a thousand sheep, and ten drachmas each; and then,
placing his neck within the embrace of the old man, he supported on one
side the tottering steps of his weary father, whom fatigue, surprise,
and joy had well nigh exhausted. Petosiris on his side did the same:
and thus they led him, with lighted torches, and the applause and
congratulations of the surrounding multitude, to the temple of Isis;
pipes and sacred flutes attending the procession, and stimulating
the spirits of the young to activity in the holy dance. Neither was
Arsace herself absent from the ceremony, for with guards, attendants,
and much pomp, she proceeded to the temple of Isis, where she offered
gold and precious stones, under pretence of setting an example to the
city, but having eyes for Theagenes alone, and gazing upon him with
more eagerness than did all the others; yet the pleasure she received
was not unmixed. Theagenes held Chariclea by the hand, and for her he
removed the surrounding crowd, and the keen stings of jealousy sunk
deep into the breast of Arsace.

But Calasiris, when he arrived at the innermost part of the temple,
threw himself on his face, and continued so long prostrate and
motionless at the feet of the sacred image, that he was near expiring
under emotion. The bystanders gently raised and set him on his feet;
and when with difficulty, and by degrees, he came to himself, he poured
out a libation to the goddess, and, in the midst of vows and prayers,
took the sacred diadem of the priesthood from his own head, and placed
it on that of his son Thyamis; saying to the spectators--"That he felt
himself old, and saw his end approaching--that his eldest son was his
lawful successor in the office--and that he possessed the needful
vigour, both of mind and body, for exercising the functions of it. "

The multitude testified, by their acclamations, their approbation of
what he said; and he retired with his sons, and Theagenes, to those
apartments of the temple which are set apart for the high-priest.
The crowd separated to their several habitations; and Arsace at
length departed, unwillingly, and often turning back, under pretence
of greater respect to the goddess; at last, however she did depart,
casting back her eyes as long as possible upon Theagenes.

As soon as she arrived at her palace, she hurried to her chamber,
and, throwing herself upon the bed, in the habit she had on, lay
there a long time speechless. She was a woman ever inclined to
sensual passion; and was now inflamed above measure by the beauties
and grace of Theagenes, which excelled any she had ever beheld. She
continued restless and agitated all night, turning from one side to
the other, fetching deep and frequent sighs; now rising up, and again
falling back on her couch; now tearing off her clothes, and then again
throwing herself upon her bed; calling in her maids without cause, and
dismissing them without orders. [8] In short, her unrestrained love
would certainly have driven her into frenzy, had not an old crone,
Cybele by name, her bedchamber woman, well acquainted with her secrets,
and who had ministered to her amours, hurried into the chamber.

Nothing had escaped her notice, and she now came to add fuel to the
flame; thus addressing her:--"What ails you, my dear mistress? What
new passion tortures you? Whose countenance has raised such a flame
in my nursling's soul? Is there any one foolish or insolent enough to
overlook or contemn advances from you? Can any mortal see your charms
unmoved, and not esteem your favours as a most supreme felicity?
Conceal nothing from me, my sweet child. He must be made of adamant,
indeed, whom my arts cannot soften. Only tell me your wishes, and I
will answer for the success of them. You have more than once made
trial of my skill and fidelity. " With these and such like insinuating
persuasions, and falling at the feet of Arsace, she entreated her to
disclose the cause of her sufferings and agitations. The princess at
last, composing herself a little, said--

"Good nurse! I have received a deeper wound than I have ever yet felt;
and though I have frequently, on similar occasions, successfully
experienced your abilities, I doubt whether they can avail me now.
The war which threatened our walls yesterday,[9] has ended without
bloodshed, and has settled into peace; but it has been the cause of
raising a more cruel war within my bosom, and of inflicting a deep
wound, not on any part of my body, but on my very soul, by offering to
my view, in a luckless hour, that foreign youth who ran near Thyamis
during the single combat. You must know whom I mean, for his beauty
shone so transcendently among them all, as to be conspicuous to the
rudest and most insensible to love, much more to one of your matured
experience. Wherefore my dearest nurse, now that you know my wound,
employ all your skill to heal it; call up every art, work with every
spell and will which years have taught you, if you would have your
mistress survive; for it is in vain for me to think of living, if I do
not enjoy this young man. "

"I believe I know the youth of whom you speak," replied the old woman;
"his chest and shoulders were broad; his neck, straight and noble; his
stature, raised above his fellows; and he outshone, in short, every one
around him:--his eyes sparkling with animation, yet their fire tempered
with sweetness; his beautiful locks clustered on his shoulders; and
the first down of youth appeared upon his cheek. An outlandish wench,
not without beauty, but of uncommon impudence, ran suddenly up to him,
embraced him, and hung upon his neck. --Is not this the man you mean? "

"It is indeed," replied Arsace; "I well remember the last circumstance
you mention; and that strolling hussy, whose[10] home-spun made-up
charms have nothing more in them than common, but are, alas! much more
fortunate than mine, since they have obtained for her such a lover. "

The old woman smiled at this, and said,--"Be of good cheer, my child;
the stranger just now, perhaps, thinks his present mistress handsome;
but if I can make him possessor of your beauties he will find himself
to have exchanged brass for gold,[11] and will look with disdain upon
that conceited and saucy strumpet. "--"Only do this, my dearest Cybele,
and you will cure, at once, two dreadful distempers--love and jealousy;
you will free me from one, and satisfy the other. "--"Be it my care,"
replied the nurse, "to bring this about; do you, in the meantime,
compose yourself; take a little rest; do not despair before the trial,
but cherish soothing hope. " Having said this, she took up the lamp,
and, shutting the door of the chamber, went away.

Soon after sunrise, taking one of the eunuchs of the palace with her,
and ordering a maid to follow her with cakes[12] and other requisites
for sacrifice, she hastened to the temple of Isis. Upon arriving at
the entrance, she said--she came to offer a sacrifice for her mistress
Arsace, who had been disturbed by portentous dreams, and wished to
propitiate the goddess. One of the vergers opposed, and sent her
away, telling her--that the temple was overwhelmed with sorrow--that
Calasiris, returned from his long exile, had feasted with his friend
the evening before, unbending his mind with unusual cheerfulness and
mirth:--after the entertainment he made a libation, and poured out many
prayers to the goddess--he told his sons that they would not see him
much longer--and earnestly recommended to their protection the young
Greeks who came with him; begging them to have the tenderest care of,
and assist them in everything:--he then retired to rest; and whether
excess of joy had relaxed his nerves and exhausted his spirits more
than his old and worn-out frame could bear, or whether he had asked,
and obtained, this favour of the gods, towards cock-crowing he was
found to have expired, by his sons, who, alarmed at his presages, had
watched over him all night. "And now," continued he, "we have sent into
the city, to assemble together the rest of the priestly caste, that we
may celebrate his funeral rites according to the custom of our country.
You must therefore retire; for it is not lawful for any one, except
the priests, to enter the temple, much less to sacrifice, for at least
seven days. "

"What then will become of the Grecian strangers during this interval? "
said Cybele. --"Thyamis," he replied, "our new high-priest, has ordered
apartments to be fitted up for them, beyond its precincts; and they are
even now complying with our custom, by quitting the temple, and during
this melancholy space of time, will lodge without. "

The old woman, thinking this an admirable occasion to spread her
nets and prepare her snares, said, "Good verger, now is the time to
be of service to the strangers, and to oblige Arsace, sister of the
Great King. You know how fond she is of Greeks, and how ready to show
hospitality to foreigners; let these young people know, that with the
knowledge, and by the consent of Thyamis, apartments are prepared for
them in our palace. "

The verger, suspecting nothing of Cybele's designs, imagined that he
was doing a very good office for the strangers if he could get them
received into the Viceroy's palace; that he should also oblige those
who asked this of him, and hurt nobody. He sought therefore Theagenes
and Chariclea. He found them drowned in tears, and overwhelmed with
sorrow. "You do not act," said he, "conformably to the principles
of your country or religion in lamenting so deeply the departure
of a holy man, who, besides, foretold it to you, and forbade you to
grieve at it. Reason and the divine word should rather encourage you
to attend him, mentally, with rejoicing and congratulation as resting
from his labours, and having exchanged this troublesome state for a
better. On your own account, however, I can excuse your giving way,
at first, to grief, having lost your father, your protector, and
chief support; but you must not despair; Thyamis succeeds not only
to his father's dignity, but to his affections towards you. He has
manifested the greatest regard for you. His first thoughts have been
for your accommodation. He has been able to procure a retreat for
you, so splendid, as not only foreigners in low estate like you, but
the greatest of the inhabitants, would envy. Follow then this woman,"
pointing to Cybele--"consider her as your mother, and accept the
hospitality to which she will introduce you. "

Theagenes and Chariclea did as they were directed. Grief had so
overwhelmed their faculties, that they hardly knew what they were
about; and in their present forlorn state were willing to fly to any
refuge. But could they have foreseen the calamities which awaited them
in the house they were about to enter, they would have shrunk back.
Fortune, whose sport they were, seemed now to promise them a short
space for rest, and a prospect of joy, only to plunge them deeper in
misfortunes. They went voluntary prisoners; and young, strangers, and
unsuspecting, deceived by the fair show of hospitality, they delivered
themselves up to their enemy. Thus subject is a wandering life to the
cloud of error, and thus easily is the unhappy traveller deluded and
imposed upon.

The lovers, when they arrived at the viceregal palace, and saw its
magnificent vestibules (far more splendid than any private house),
the guards, and array of attendants and courtiers, were surprised and
disturbed, observing the habitation to be very much beyond what was
suitable to the present condition of their fortunes. However, they
followed Cybele, who exhorted and encouraged them--called them her
friends and children, and bid them form the most pleasing expectations
for their future. At length, when she had brought them to her own
apartment, which was remote and private, she caused them to sit down,
and thus addressed them:

"My children, I am acquainted with the cause of your present sorrow;
and that you lament, with great reason, the death of the high priest,
Calasiris, who was in the place of a father to you; but it is proper
for you now to tell me who you are, and from whence you come. So far I
know, that you are Greeks; and, as I judge from your appearance, of a
good family; for a countenance so ingenuous, so graceful and engaging
an air, bespeak a noble race. But from what country and city of Greece
you come, and by what chance you have wandered hither, I wish to know;
and it will be for your interest to acquaint me, that I may inform my
mistress Arsace, the sister of the Great King, and wife of the most
powerful of the viceroys, Oroondates. She is hospitable, refined, and a
lover of the Greeks. When she has had some previous information about
you, you will appear before her with less embarrassment, and more
honour. And whatever you disclose, will not be to an entire stranger,
for I also am a Greek by nation. I am a native of Lesbos. I was brought
here a captive; but I find my life in captivity pleasanter than any I
could have hoped to pass at home, for I enjoy the entire confidence of
my mistress; she sees only with my eyes, and hears with my ears; but
I make use of the credit I have with her to introduce only worthy and
honourable persons to her acquaintance. "

Theagenes, comparing in her mind what Cybele now said, with the
behaviour of Arsace the day before; recollecting how intently she had
fixed her eyes upon him, and calling to memory her wanton signs and
glances,[13] foreboded no good to himself from what was to follow: he
prepared, however, to say something in answer to Cybele, when Chariclea
whispered in his ear--"Remember that I am your _sister_ in what you are
going to say. " He, taking the hint, began--

"You know already, Mother! that we are Greeks--this young woman is my
sister--our parents were carried off by pirates--we set out in search
of them, and ourselves met with worse fortunes, falling into the hands
of cruel men, who robbed us of our all, which was considerable, and
were, with difficulty, persuaded to spare our lives. Some pitying deity
brought us acquainted with the hero Calasiris (now beatified): under
his guidance we arrived here, flattering ourselves that we should
spend the remainder of our lives under his protection; but now we are
as you see, left alone, and desolate; bereft of our own parents, and
of him who promised to supply the place of them. This is our present
situation. To you we return our best thanks for your good offices and
hospitality; and you would greatly enhance the favour by suffering us
to live retired, and by ourselves; deferring, for some time at least,
the favour you hinted at, that of introducing us to Arsace. Strangers,
wanderers, and unfortunate as we are, we are very unfit to appear in
her splendid court. Acquaintance and intercourse are best suited for
those who are of equal rank. " Cybele could hardly restrain herself at
this intelligence. She betrayed, by her countenance, evident marks of
the joy she felt at hearing that Chariclea was the sister of Theagenes,
concluding that she would now be no obstacle to the amorous designs of
her mistress.

"Fair youth," said she, "you will have different sentiments of Arsace
when you are acquainted with her. She condescends, and accommodates
herself to every kind of fortune. She has a particular pleasure in
comforting and assisting those who have met with unworthy treatment.
Though she is by birth a Persian, in disposition she is a Greek. She
delights in the company and conversation of those who, like yourselves,
are lately come from Greece. She greatly affects both the Grecian ways
and manners: be of good cheer then; you will not fail to receive every
attention and honour which a man can wish for, and your sister will be
her companion and favourite. But now tell me your names? " Having heard
them, she ran to Arsace, ordering them to wait her return, and giving
directions to her portress (an old woman like herself,) not to suffer
any one to enter the apartment, nor to permit those who were inside to
leave it.

"But," said the other, "what if your son Achæmenes should return; he
went out just before your departure to the temple, in order to get
some application to his eyes, which are still very troublesome to
him? "--"Neither must he enter," replied she; "make fast the doors, and
tell him that I am gone away, and have taken the key with me. "

The portress did as she was directed; and Cybele was no sooner
departed than the unhappy lovers could no longer restrain their bitter
thoughts and lamentations. Almost in the same instant he cried out
"Ο Chariclea! "--She, "Ο Theagenes! " They proceeded to deplore their
misfortunes in the same frame of mind and nearly in the same words.
They mingled embraces with their complaints, and kisses with their
tears. The remembrance of Calasiris drove them at last into audible
grief; into cries and sobs; Chariclea particularly, who had known him
longer--who had experienced more of his attention, benevolence, and
affection. "Ο Calasiris! " she cried out, as well as her sobs would let
her, "for I can no longer call you by the sweet name of father; the
evil genius who persecutes me, has on all sides deprived me of that
endearing appellation. My real father I have never known. I betrayed,
alas! and deserted him who adopted me;[14] and have lost him who
received, preserved, comforted, and instructed me; and the custom of
the priests does not permit me to pay the last tribute of tears over
his dear remains. Yet, Ο my preserver (and I will once more call you
father), here at least, while I may, I will pour out a libation to
you with my tears, and give you offerings from my hair. " So saying,
she plucked handfuls from her beauteous tresses. Theagenes caught her
hands, and besought her to forbear.

She, however proceeded in tragic strain[15]--"Why do I continue to
live, deprived of such a hope? Calasiris is gone! --the support of
my wanderings--my leader in a foreign country, and only guide to my
native one--he who could lead me to the knowledge of my parents--our
comfort in adversity, our defender from misfortune, our strength,
and stay, is lost; and has left us, a miserable pair, ignorant and
forlorn, in a foreign land. For want of guidance, it is impossible for
us to continue our journey. That grave, bland, wise, and of a truth,
_hoary_,[16] soul is fled, and will not see the event of its labours on
our behalf. "

While she was going on thus dolefully, and Theagenes, though he felt
deeply for himself, was attempting to compose her, and to repress the
violent expressions of her grief, Achæmenes returned; and finding the
doors fast, inquired of the old portress the reason. She told him,
that it was by his mother's order. While he was wondering what could
be her motive, he heard Chariclea lamenting within; and stooping down,
and looking through the crevices of the door, he could easily see what
passed in the chamber. Again he asked the old woman who those were whom
he saw within. She told him--"She knew no more of them, than that they
were a youth and maiden, foreigners, as she guessed, whom Cybele had
not long before brought with her. "

Again he stooped down, and took a more careful survey of them.
Chariclea was entirely unknown to him. He admired her beauty, and
figured to himself what it must be when not obscured by dejection,
and overwhelmed with grief; and his admiration began to lead him
insensibly into love. As for Theagenes, he had some distant and obscure
recollection of having seen him before. While he was gazing on one,
and then trying to recall the other to his mind, Cybele returned. She
had told Arsace everything she had done, relative to the young pair.
She congratulated her on her good fortune, which had effected without
trouble what she could else hardly have hoped to obtain by a thousand
schemes and contrivances; which had lodged her lover under her own
roof, and afforded her the unrestrained and unsuspected liberty of
seeing, and being seen by him.

With this discourse she stimulated her passion to such a degree, that
she could scarcely prevent her hastening to an immediate interview with
Theagenes, by suggesting that it should not take place while as yet
her face was pale, and her eyes swelled, from the distraction in which
she had passed the preceding night. She advised her to compose herself
for that day, and stay till she had recovered her former beauty. She
arranged with her how she was to treat and manage her guests; and left
her full of hopes and flattering expectations. Then returning to her
apartment, and coming upon her son employed as he was about the door,
she asked him what he was so curiously prying into.

"I am examining the strangers within," said he; "who are they? from
whence do they come? "--"It is not permitted you to know," she replied;
"nay, I advise you to conceal what you have already discovered of
them; and to avoid their company as much as possible, for such is my
mistress's pleasure. " The young man, easily persuaded by his mother,
retired; comprehending that Theagenes was reserved for the private
gratification of Arsace, and saying to himself as he went away--"Is not
this the man whom I received from the Commandant Mithranes, to carry to
Oroondates, that he might be sent to the Great King? --Was he not taken
away from me by Thyamis, and the men of Bessa, when I narrowly hazarded
my life, and was almost the only one of the party who escaped? --It
surely is so, if I can believe my eyes, which are now better, and serve
me nearly as well as ever. Besides, I heard that Thyamis returned here
yesterday, and, after a single combat with his brother, recovered
the priesthood. This is undoubtedly the man I mean: for the present,
however, I will conceal my knowledge of him, and observe in silence
my mistress's intentions with regard to these young people. "--Thus he
muttered to himself.

Cybele hastened to her guests, and detected some traces of the sorrows
which had them employed in her absence; for though, at the noise she
made in opening the doors, they endeavoured to compose their dress and
looks and manner as well as they were able, yet they could not conceal
from the penetrating old woman that they had been agitated and in tears.

"My dear children," she cried out, "why do I see this ill-timed grief,
when you ought to rejoice, and congratulate yourselves upon your good
fortune? Arsace manifests the kindest disposition towards you; she
will permit you to come into her presence to-morrow, and, in the mean
time, has ordered you to be received and treated with every attention
and regard. Dry then these unseasonable and childish tears, clear
your countenances, and compose and conform yourselves in everything,
according to the pleasure of your great benefactress. "--"The
remembrance of Calasiris," replied Theagenes, "and the loss we have
sustained in being so soon deprived of his friendly attentions, called
forth our tears. "--"This is foolish," said the old woman; "why are
you so affected at so common and trifling an event? Calasiris was but
an adopted father, and, by the course of nature, could not last long;
whereas you are now in favour with one who will shower upon you rank,
riches, pleasures, everything which your age (now that you are in the
bloom of youth) can enjoy, or your warmest wishes hope for. Look on
Arsace as your good genius--as your goddess Fortune--and fall down
before her! Only be ruled by me in what manner you are are to approach
her, and comport yourselves when she admits you to an interview;
conform yourselves to her pleasure, and obey her orders; for she is
young, a princess, proud also of her beauty, and will not bear to have
her will disputed, or her commands disregarded. "[17]

Theagenes made no answer, his mind misgiving him that matters of an
unworthy and unwelcome nature were being hinted at. In the meantime
some eunuchs arrived, bringing with them, in golden dishes, delicacies
which remained from the royal table, which were in the highest degree
sumptuous and choice. [18] After saying that their mistress sends them
out of honour to the strangers, and having placed them upon the board,
they departed. The young people, at the suggestion of Cybele, and that
they might not seem to despise the favour of the princess, just tasted
what was set before them: and the like honour was repeated to them in
the evening as well as on other days. Early the next morning the same
eunuchs again appeared, and thus addressed Theagenes:

"Most enviable among men! you are sent for by my mistress: she has
ordered us to introduce you to her presence--an honour and happiness
which falls to the lot of very few. " He paused a little: at length he
arose, with a very unwilling air: and asked,--"If he alone were sent
for, and not his sister also? "--"He only, at present," they replied:
"his sister should have a private interview another time; now several
of the Persian nobles were with Arsace: and besides, it was the custom
that men and women should be separately received and admitted to an
audience. " Theagenes, stooping, whispered to Chariclea:--"All is not
right; this is most suspicious. "--She softly advised him, not at
first to contradict Arsace, but to feign a willingness to comply with
everything which was desired of him.

He then followed his conductors who officiously instructed him in
what manner he should address and converse with the princess; and
what ceremonies and obeisances were usual and necessary in appearing
before her: but he answered nothing. At length they arrived in her
presence: they found her sitting on a lofty throne--her dress gorgeous
with gold and purple--her tiara and necklace sparkling with the most
costly gems--and her whole person set off with all the appliances
of art--her guards standing around her, and some of the principal
nobles and magistrates sitting on each side. Theagenes was neither
dazzled nor confounded by all this splendour: he forgot, in a moment,
the simulated complaisance which had been recommended to him by
Chariclea: rather did he feel his pride rebel at sight of the Persian
pomp: neither bending the knee, nor prostrating himself, but with an
erect countenance[19]--"Hail," he said, "Ο royal Arsace! " They in the
presence were indignant, and a murmur of disapprobation ran through
the circle: every one blamed the daring rudeness of Theagenes, who
presumed to address the princess without the usual prostration. But
she, smiling, said--

"Forgive a foreigner, unaccustomed to forms; and, above all, a Greek,
infected with the national contempt towards Persians. " And then she
raised the tiara from her head, to the astonishment, and manifest
dislike, of those about her; for this is what the viceroys do when they
return the salute of those who pay them homage. "Be of good cheer,
stranger," said she, by an interpreter (for though she understood Greek
she did not speak it); "if you desire anything, scruple not to acquaint
me, nor doubt to obtain your wish:" and then making a signal to her
eunuchs, she dismissed him, and he was ceremoniously re-conducted, with
a train of guards, to his apartments.

Achæmenes having now had a nearer view of him, recollected him
well--wondered at, yet suspected the cause of the honours which were
paid him, but kept the silence which was recommended to him by his
mother. Arsace proceeded to receive her nobles at an entertainment,
apparently out of respect to them, but really to celebrate her own
joy at having had an interview with Theagenes. To him she sent not
only portions of the viands set before her, as usual, but carpets and
embroidered tapestry, the work of Tyrian and Lydian skill. She sent
likewise two beautiful slaves to wait upon them--a maid to Chariclea,
and a boy to Theagenes, both from Ionia, and in the bloom of youth.

She was urgent with Cybele to lose no time, but to bring about, as soon
as possible, what she had so much at heart: for her passion was now too
strong for her endurance. Cybele, accordingly, was to relax none of her
endeavours, but was to circumvent Theagenes with all her arts. She did
not openly explain the wishes of her mistress, but gave him to guess at
them by hints and circumlocutions. She magnified her good-will towards
him--took every occasion to extol the beauties of her person, as well
those which appeared to every beholder as those which her attire kept
concealed: she commended her graceful manners and amiable disposition,
and assured him that a brave and handsome youth was certain of finding
favour with her. All this while she endeavoured in what she said to
sound his temper, whether it were amorous and easily inflamed.

Theagenes thanked her for her good inclinations towards the Greeks, and
professed himself obliged by the peculiar kindness and benevolence with
which she had treated him. But all her innuendoes, relating to other
matters, he passed over, and appeared as though he did not understand
them. This was a vast annoyance to the old beldame, and her heart
began almost to fail her; for she had penetration enough to see that
Theagenes understood very well the end she aimed at, but was averse
to, and determined to repel, all her overtures. She knew that Arsace
could not brook a much longer delay. She had already experienced the
violence of her temper, which was now inflamed by the ardour of her
present passion. She was daily demanding the fulfilment of her promise,
which Cybele put off on various pretences; sometimes saying, that the
youth's inclinations towards her were chilled by his timidity--at
others, feigning that some indisposition had attacked him. At length,
when nearly a week had ineffectually elapsed, and the princess had
admitted Chariclea to more than one interview; when out of regard to
her pretended brother, she had treated her with the greatest kindness
and respect; Cybele was at length obliged to speak out more plainly to
Theagenes, and make an unvarnished declaration of her mistress's love
to him.

She blamed his backwardness, and promised that his compliance
should be followed by the most splendid rewards. "Why," said she,
"are you so averse to love? Is it not strange that one of your age
should overlook the advances of a woman like Arsace--young, and
beautiful as yourself--and should not esteem her favours as so much
treasure-trove,[20] especially when you may indulge your inclinations
without the smallest apprehension of danger--her husband being at a
distance, and her nurse the confidante of her secrets, and entirely
devoted to her service, being here, ready to manage and conceal your
interviews? There are no obstacles in your way. You have neither a wife
nor a betrothed; although in such circumstances, even these relations
have been overlooked by many men of sense, who have considered that
they should not really hurt their families, but should gain wealth and
pleasure to themselves. " She began to hint, at last, that there might
be danger in his refusal. "Women," says she, "tender-hearted and ardent
in their desires, are enraged at a repulse, and seldom fail to revenge
themselves upon those who overlook their advances. --Reflect, moreover,
that my mistress is a Persian, of the royal family, and has ample means
in her hands of rewarding those whom she favours, and punishing those
who she thinks have injured her. You are a stranger, destitute, and
with no one to defend you. Spare yourself danger, and spare Arsace a
disappointment: she is worthy of some regard from you, who has shown
and feels such intensity of passion for you: beware of a loving woman's
anger, and dread that revenge which follows neglected love. [21] I have
known more than one repent of his coldness. --These grey hairs have had
longer experience in love affairs than you, yet have I never seen any
one so unimpressible and harsh as you are. "

Addressing herself then to Chariclea (for, urged by necessity, she
ventured to hold this discourse before her), "Do you, my child," says
she, "join your exhortations to mine; endeavour to bend this brother
of yours, to whom I know not what name to give. If you succeed, you
shall find the advantage great to yourself; you will not lose his love
and you will gain more honour; riches will shower down upon you, and a
splendid match will await you.