“bacchus, bacchus! on the panther
he swoons,—bound with his own vines!
and his mænads slowly saunter,
head aside, among the pines,
while they murmur dreamingly,—
‘evohe—ah—evohe—!
ah, pan is dead.”
elizabeth barrett browning.
zopyrus stood with arms folded, his noble head, perfect stature and dignified bearing appearing most incongruous with the exomis he wore. from across his folded arms he looked straight at the mortal dionysus, till the latter, feeling his impelling gaze, looked up and flushed guiltily, though the man who surveyed him so coldly was to him a total stranger. zopyrus walked to the throne, thrust the false dionysus rudely aside, seized the amazed persephone in his arms and tried to force his way through the crowd with her, but the indignant remonstrances of the crowd made futile his efforts.
“down with him for violating the privileges of the god!” cried one.
this outburst was followed with vociferous cries of, “take ariadne from him!” “throw him out!” “beat him!”
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by this time ephialtes had recovered his composure. the appearance of the stranger had inexplicably discomposed him and the attack had roused his ire, but now conscious of his costly garb in contrast to his assailant’s attire, he stood before the throne and in imperious tones demanded the return of ariadne, as he called her.
zopyrus released the girl from his embrace and asked: “do you wish to return to pluto?”
for answer she stepped closely to zopyrus’ side and clung tenaciously to his arm. he gazed long into the depths of eyes that matched the blue of her gown and the sapphires upon her brow. the color mounted to her temples, and as she bowed her head he noticed that the rosy flush likewise suffused her neck and shoulders which were partially visible through the golden strands of loosened hair.
ephialtes was infuriated by persephone’s refusal to return to him, and was nonplussed as to what method he had best employ to obtain the maiden, when there flashed through his mind the words of a sentence: “on the day that you deliver to greece the traitor of thermopylæ, i will become your wife.”
straightening himself to his full height ephialtes commanded the attention of the audience.
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“i am about to make a revelation that will return ariadne to me, i believe,” he said smiling with arrogant confidence. “the man to whom ariadne clings and is no doubt one of our oarsmen, is no other than he who betrayed your country to the persians before the battle of thermopylæ. greece has long sought him fellow countrymen, and yonder he stands, defiling with his touch the maiden who plays the part of persephone at the mysteries of eleusis. what will you do with him?”
“kill him!” came the cry from hundreds of throats, and with one accord the angry mob rushed toward zopyrus.
“just one moment please,” said ephialtes. “i will wait for ariadne, or persephone of eleusis, to join me on the throne.”
he paused impressively, but persephone did not move.
“what,” he cried in indignation, “did you not promise to become my bride when thermopylæ’s traitor would be revealed by me?”
persephone walked slowly toward ephialtes who stretched forth eager arms to receive her, but she stopped a few paces before him and on her face was an inscrutable smile.
“not so fast, ephialtes. i want the proof. you dare not make such a statement without sufficient evidence against him.”
ephialtes was confused. he had not had enough time to make up false testimony, but he knew that his future happiness depended now upon how successfully he placed the blame of his guilt upon the innocent man before him.
“hear me,” he said, “and i will tell you the circumstances.”
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“your testimony can avail naught, for my protector here is a native persian who knows nothing of the mountain passes of greece,” said persephone in a voice that rang clearly as a bell through the great hall. a death-like stillness pervaded the cella; nought was heard but the sharp intake of ephialtes’ breath, then from his lips there burst in stentorian tones: “if this be true, a persian in our midst is as deserving of death as a traitor! friends will you allow him even so much as to touch the persephone of the mysteries?”
at this persephone became alarmed and feared lest in her ardent desire to defend her protector, she had only made matters worse. zopyrus, seeing her agitated countenance, smiled reassuringly and raised his arm to command general attention. a few rabid revelers rushed forward to do violence to his person but were checked by a voice in the throng: “hear him! no man should be condemned without being permitted to say a word in his own behalf.”
the furious denunciations of the intolerant ones subsided, and zopyrus turned and walked slowly toward ephialtes who gradually retreated before the compelling gaze of his antagonist, till he reached the throne upon which he sat, quite unconscious of what he did. zopyrus’ demeanor changed instantly. he bowed low before the amazed man upon the throne and said with impressive solemnity:
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“o xerxes, king of the medes and persians and would-be conqueror of the world, i come to you with an important message. for two days your soldiers have been defeated by the greeks at the entrance of the pass of thermopylæ. the greeks are so inferior in number that right now is the time to strike, but not in the method heretofore employed. the greeks are well trained, and if they are to be conquered, it must be by the greater forces of the enemy. listen, o xerxes! if you would succeed in overwhelming the enemy, you must attack from behind, but this you can not do since you are not acquainted with this wild, impassable country. i am a native malian and well acquainted with this locality. if you will make it worth my while, i will show you a mountain pass that will lead you to the rear of leonidas’ army unobserved.”
during the persian’s recital, ephialtes’ behavior had undergone many mutations. from startled curiosity to fearful apprehension, thence to genuine fright and finally to abject terror, his demeanor had rapidly changed. by the time the persian had ceased speaking, the greek’s face was as livid as a corpse.
zopyrus sprang to the side of the doomed man and clutching him by either shoulder cried, “speak, traitor of thermopylæ. what have you to say for yourself?”
for answer ephialtes drew from the folds of his robe a ruby handled dagger which he raised for a death-dealing thrust at zopyrus, but the latter, free from the influence of wine, was the quicker, and caught his enemy’s arm in its lightning-like descent, thus warding off the blow that might have been fatal.
a muttering that grew to a rumble and then to a mighty roar that shook the very pillars of the temple was heard, and with one impulse an angry mob rushed toward the dais. above the din and confusion a voice screamed: “death to the traitor who opened the gateway to greece! upon his head and no other rests the loss of our homes and the deaths of our fathers and brothers.”
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zopyrus drew the half fainting form of persephone to his side and with one strong arm gave her bodily support and with the other forced a passage through the enraged crowd down the length of the cella. at the door they turned and looked back toward the throne which was completely hidden from their sight by the oscillating wave of humanity which hovered about it and its ill-fated occupant.
shuddering with horror they rushed out into the darkness. the cool breeze from across the water revived their benumbed senses. as they sped along the pathway which led to the shore, the drunken figure of a man emerged from a clump of bushes to their left. zopyrus would have ordinarily paid no heed, as the man was in type a duplicate of hundreds of others within the temple, but something familiar in the drunkard’s appearance caused him to pause and take a second look, and in doing so he recognized beyond the question of a doubt the coarse companion of corinna. his conscience smote him as he remembered that although he had come to naxos for the very purpose of serving as corinna’s protector, he had abandoned her to whatever fate might befall when he had seen persephone in distress.
he seized persephone’s hand and said hastily: “come with me. we must find corinna.”
“do you mean corinna the daughter of the poet pasicles?” asked persephone.
“the same,” he replied, “do you know her?”
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the girl nodded. the young man continued talking as they hurried on in the direction whence the rough man had appeared. “she came to naxos in the company of that brutish-looking man we met and i intended to protect her, but you know the result! when i saw you, you were in dire need of help and i could no more have left you to suffer at the hands of that traitor than i did that day on the acropolis when the persian, artabazus would have harmed you.”
he turned half timidly to her, ashamed of his adoration for her whom he now had no right to desire; for the image of a pure and noble maiden stood between them.
“tell me how you knew ephialtes to be the man who betrayed greece at thermopylæ,” she asked.
zopyrus related in detail the episode of his eavesdropping in the tent of xerxes, and persephone was about to tell why ephialtes had been so eager to accuse someone of being the traitor at thermopylæ, when a white form, partially concealed by undergrowth a few paces before them, attracted their attention simultaneously.
zopyrus sprang ahead and dropped to his knees beside the prone figure of a girl which he discovered lay in the stillness of death. something cold seemed to grip his heart and everything about him seemed to melt into a whirling cloud! with a faint cry of anguish he lost consciousness just as persephone ran up to him. she bent over him and looked into the lifeless face of the girl.
it was corinna, the daughter of pasicles!
