“... far in the east
the aegean twinkles, and its thousand isles
hover in mist, and round the dun horizon
are many floating visions, clouds, or peaks,
tinted with rose!”
james gates percival.
the second day of the full moon arrived. all necessary preparations had been made for the marriage ceremony of eumetis and zopyrus which would take place on the following day.
corinna approached her mother as the latter stood near the altar of zeus, in conversation with the prospective bride and bridegroom.
“mother,” said the girl. “i have just learned that my dear friend gorgo is ill and wishes me to go immediately and spend the night with her. i will be back for the wedding tomorrow.”
cleodice’s eyes shone with maternal approval as she surveyed the eager, youthful face so like her own.
“what will polygnotus say?” asked eumetis.
“oh he will recover from the effects of one evening spent outside of my presence,” replied her sister indifferently.
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zopyrus stood silently by. he had been grievously disappointed and shocked at corinna’s duplicity, and had hoped that before the fateful day arrived she would repent of her former decision and abandon the proposed trip to naxos with the stranger. however her present conversation with cleodice assured him that she hung tenaciously to her original purpose.
“by all means spend the night with your sick friend, corinna,” said a voice from the entryway, and turning the four beheld the young artist who had heard the conversation unobserved by the others.
zopyrus greeted polygnotus heartily. he thought at first to apprise him secretly of corinna’s proposed trip to naxos, but upon second thought he decided that there might be a better way of preventing the girl from committing such a folly without grieving her lover. the deep sincere eyes of the artist rested a moment in loving regard upon the face of corinna who flushed deeply, turning demurely away. her mother and sister each placed an arm lovingly about her, and the three women left the atrium.
when they were gone polygnotus turned enthusiastically to zopyrus and said: “i have good news! cimon has just been made commander of the fleet, and is contemplating visiting sparta with alcmæon in behalf of the alleged confederacy.”
“your news is pleasing to my ear, and i rejoice with you and cimon—but,” zopyrus glanced about and lowered his voice to a whisper. “will you not speak well to cimon of themistocles and ask him to do his utmost to put down this charge of medism against the statesman?”
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“i will do what i can,” replied polygnotus. “cimon is more a warrior than a statesman. his methods are direct and bold, often sadly lacking in diplomacy. he believes that when a man has served his purpose in life and is no longer useful to the community in which he dwells and may even become a detriment to those whom he once served, he should be cast aside as one would shed a worn garment when its season of beauty and service is past. cimon and others like him also believe that when maturity of age is passed and the power of decision begins to wane, the very burden of long experience perplexes the mind and engenders doubt and fear instead of confidence. will you come with me this evening to the home of cimon to congratulate him upon his success and to speak a good word for themistocles? but i had forgotten—tomorrow you will wed, and possibly you have arrangements to make in regard to the ceremonies. corinna and i are to follow your example before long, but cleodice does not wish to lose two daughters at once, and eumetis is the older.”
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“i am delighted to hear that your marriage will take place soon. i must be going now as i have a duty to fulfill,” said zopyrus as he turned to go.
* * * * * * * *
not long after this conversation a chance observer might have seen a young man of aristocratic bearing, crisp blond curls and noble face, walking with elastic strides toward piræus. he was clad in the short dress of a laborer, called an exomis, and upon his head was a narrow-brimmed, close-fitting cap. as he neared the harbor he proceeded cautiously, desirous of observing all that was taking place without being seen. to his consternation he saw that three boats with their occupants had already been launched upon the sea. vexed with himself for having arrived so late he scanned the people who remained upon the shore waiting to be assigned to other boats. it was almost unbelievable but it was true! the sun unmistakably revealed a head of auburn hair and close to it the bullet-head and thick florid neck of a young man. zopyrus, for it was he who clad in the woolen exomis instead of his customary linen chiton, watched the two closely, pulled the brim of his cap well over his eyes and approached the waiting youths and maidens. several he recognized as the sons and daughters of prominent athenians. another filled boat was leaving, the rowers diligently plying the oars. it was apparent that corinna and the heavy-set youth would be of the number to fill the next boat. disguising his walk, zopyrus made his way quickly to the waiting skiff and approached one of the oarsmen.
“ten drachmas for you if you will let me take your place at the oars,” he said in a low tone.
the fellow looked amazed, prepared to turn his back upon zopyrus, then suddenly thought better of the offer. he put forth his hand and when to his surprise the coins fell into his upturned palm, he sprang free of his seat and ran to the shore leaving his place at the oars free to the generous stranger.
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zopyrus took the vacant place and had not long to wait before the young people filled the waiting boat. in unison with his fellow oarsmen, zopyrus assailed the task briskly, and soon the graceful little skiff was well out into the harbor. the first boat was a mere speck near the horizon to the south as the one in which corinna was a passenger, emerged from the entrance of the harbor. zopyrus was grateful for the opportunity for strenuous physical exercise. it took his mind off of his own sorrow. he realized presently that he was listening unconsciously to the conversation of two men.
“what did you say were the names of the seven boats that left for naxos?” asked one.
“they are named for seven goddesses or nymphs,” replied the other, “doris, leucothea, metis, aegle, amphitrite, doto and persephone. this one is the ‘persephone.’”
zopyrus let his oars drift when he heard the last statement. was the vision or name of persephone to haunt him throughout life? when he was on land the leaves on the trees seemed to whisper “persephone,” and now on the water, the boat in which he sat bore her name, and the ripples that washed its sides murmured the beloved accents.
the afternoon wore on, the sun’s rays became more slanting and the boats glided across the water like silent spirits. at length night descended upon the water—but no, it was growing brighter. where but a few moments before the hills of distant paros had slept on the edge of the darkness, now curve on curve was silhouetted against the silvery light of the moon, and the ripple of the oars on the water made a sheet of phosphorescence in its shadowy depths.
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when paros was passed, from across the water there floated on the gentle breeze the dionysian hymn, sung by the occupants of the four preceding boats. those in the “persephone” joined in the chant, and zopyrus heard corinna’s pure, soft tones mingling strangely with the harsh notes of her companion.
as the prow touched the bank zopyrus sprang from his seat eager to set foot on land, but he was checked by the glances of indignant remonstrance cast upon him not only by his fellow oarsmen, but by the others as well. he turned his face quickly into the shadow fearing to be recognized by some of the youths and maidens of athens, but his fears proved groundless. after the boat had been emptied of the bacchanalians, zopyrus quietly stepped ashore, sauntering leisurely till beyond the range of vision of the oarsmen, who if they intended observing the rites of bacchus, preferred to bide their time. once out of their sight and hearing, zopyrus quickened his pace, keeping well protected by the bushes and tree-trunks that lined the path, till he paused in awe as there appeared in a clearing to the left before him, the white ionic columns and chaste lines of the temple to dionysus. alas that its spotless purity was defiled by the wild orgies within! its portals were thronged with gay devotees, and the sound of laughter and singing blended with the tones of flute and barbiton.
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by now, indifferent to his plebeian dress, zopyrus traversed the moon-lit sward to the temple and mingled with the light-hearted revelers. groups of celebrants raised their voices in jubilant song, but here and there detached couples, their faces stamped with passion and lust, made horrible the scene. now and then a hetera with appealing glance passed close to where zopyrus stood like a statue, too horrified too move. the muscles of his mouth were drawn and his face was haggard. he suffered complete inertia till the sight of a girl who reminded him of corinna aroused him from his lethargic state and he set out to find her before it was too late, for he knew that she had been ignorant of the nature of the revelries.
he pressed on down the length of the cella, scrutinizing the face of every maiden, but he did not see corinna. as he neared the throne of dionysus, the sound of triumphant acclamations, poured from the throats of a hundred devotees and bacchantes who stood about the throne, fell upon his ears. he pushed his way nearer to the front, receiving many rebuffs and scornful glances because of his mean attire.
“what is the excitement?” he asked of a young man.
“you can see for yourself,” was the surly reply. “dionysus has turned to flesh and blood and shares the throne with ariadne!”
zopyrus forced his way onward till he could see the throne. he stood a moment as if petrified, then with a few swift strides he was alone before the royal seat, gazing with death-white countenance at dionysus and ariadne.
