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.