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.
