[The Symposium began after the real meal.  Not till that was over

did the guests usually adorn themselves with wreaths, wash their
hands with Smegma or Smema (a kind of soap) and begin to drink.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Half an hour later I was in prison too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or an Athenian," cried Phanes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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