No More Learning

" he cried out, "what do
I see? the face of Thisbe! " and starting back, he stood petrified
with astonishment. Theagenes, on the contrary, now began to recover
his spirits, and in his turn supported and encouraged Cnemon, who was
ready to faint; and besought him that he would lead him instantly to
Chariclea; Cnemon, by degrees coming to himself, again examined the
body, which really was that of Thisbe; he knew, too, by its hilt, the
sword which Thyamis from rage and haste had left sticking in the wound.
He perceived also a tablet appearing out of her bosom; he took it, and
was beginning to read what was written upon it; but Theagenes would
not suffer him, and earnestly entreated him, if all he saw was not the
illusion of some demon, that he would take him to Chariclea; you may
afterwards, said he, read this tablet. Cnemon obeyed; and, taking up
the tablet and the sword, hastened towards Chariclea. She, creeping
on hands and knees towards the sound of their voices as well as she
could, at length saw the light, flew to Theagenes, and hung upon his
neck. And mutually exclaiming, "And are you restored to me, my dear
Theagenes? "--"Do you live,[3] sweetest Chariclea? " they fell in each
others' arms upon the ground; their voices murmuring and themselves
dying away. So much does a sudden rush of joy overpower the human
faculties, and excess of pleasure passes into pain. Thus these lovers,
unexpectedly preserved, seemed again in danger, till Cnemon, observing
a little water in a cleft of the rock, took it up in the hollow of his
hand, and sprinkling it over their faces and nostrils, they came by
degrees to themselves. But when they discovered their situation, lying
on the ground in each other's arms, they rose immediately, and blushing
a little, especially Chariclea, began to make excuses to Cnemon. He,
smiling, turned the matter into pleasantry.

"You will not find a severe censor in me," said he; "whoever is but
moderately acquainted with the passion of love, will easily forgive
its excesses. But there is one part of your conduct, Theagenes, which
I cannot approve of--indeed I was ashamed to see it--when you fell
down, and bewailed in so lamentable a manner a foreign woman, and
one of no good character, while I was all the time assuring you, that
she, whom you professed to love best, was alive and near you. "--"Have
done, Cnemon," he replied; "do not traduce me to Chariclea. You know
I lamented her, under the person of another; but since the kind gods
have shewn me that I was in an error, pray call to mind a little your
own fortitude. You joined your tears, at first, with mine; but when you
recognized the body which lay before you, you started as from a demon
on the stage, you in armour, and with a sword, from a woman; you, a
Grecian warrior, from a corpse! "

This raillery drew a short and forced smile from them, mingled with
tears; for such was their calamitous situation, that grief and thought
soon overpowered this gleam of cheerfulness. A short silence ensued;
when Chariclea[4] gently moving her finger upon her cheek under the
ear, exclaimed, "I shall always esteem her blest, whoever she be, for
whom Theagenes is concerned; but, if you do not think that love makes
me too inquisitive, I should be glad to know who is this happy damsel
who has been thought worthy of his tears; and by what error he could
take a stranger for me. "--"You will wonder when you hear," replied
Theagenes. "Cnemon affirms, that these are the remains of Thisbe, the
Athenian singer, the plotter against him and Demæneta. "--"How," said
the astonished Chariclea, "could she be brought here, from the middle
of Greece to the extremity of Egypt, like a deity in a tragedy? [5] and
how could she be concealed from us at our entrance? "--"As to that, I am
as much at a loss about it as you can be," said Cnemon; "all I know of
her adventures is this: After the tragical end of Demæneta, my father
laid before the people what had happened. They pitied and pardoned him;
and he was earnestly employed in soliciting my recall. Thisbe made use
of the leisure she had upon her hands; and at different entertainments
set her musical skill and her person to sale.

"She[6] now received more favour from the public than Arsinoë, who
grew careless in practising her talents; while Thisbe shewed greater
perfection, both in voice and execution. But she was not aware that
by this she had excited the inextinguishable envy of a courtezan.
This was increased by her having seduced Nausicles, a rich merchant
of Naucratium, formerly a lover of Arsinoë; but who had left her on
pretence of being disgusted with the distortions of her eyes and
countenance, while she was playing on the flute. Anger and jealousy
raging in her bosom, she went to the relations of Demæneta, and
discovered to them the snare which Thisbe had laid for their kinswoman;
partly from her own conjectures, and partly from what Thisbe had told
her. Their anger, however, fell first upon my father; and they engaged
the most skilful counsel to accuse him to the people, as if he had put
Demæneta to death without trial or conviction; and had made use of
the adultery only as a pretext for her murder; and loudly called upon
him to produce the adulterer, or at least to name him; they concluded
by insisting that Thisbe should be put to the torture. My father
readily agreed to this, but she was not to be found; for, upon the
first stirring of the matter, she had taken flight with her merchant.
The people, angry at her escape, were in an ill humour to hear the
defence of the accused. They did not indeed convict him of the murder,
but found him guilty of being concerned in the contrivance against
Demæneta, and of my unjust banishment. They exiled him from the city,
and fined him to the amount of the greatest part of his fortune. Such
were the fruits of his second marriage.

"The wretched Thisbe, whose punishment I now see before me, sailed safe
from Athens: this is all I know about her, and this I had from Anticles
at Ægina. I sailed with him to Egypt in hopes of finding Thisbe at
Naucratium, that I might bring her back to Athens, and clear my father
from the suspicions and accusations he laboured under, and procure her
to be justly punished for her crimes against us. What I have since
undergone you shall hear at a more convenient season; let us now
examine into the cause of the tragedy which is here presented to us.
But how Thisbe came into this cavern, and how she has been murdered in
it, must be explained to us, I believe, by some deity, for it passes
human comprehension; let us examine, however, the tablet that was found
in her bosom; perhaps that will give us some information. " With this he
took it, and began to read as follows:

"Thisbe, formerly his enemy, but now his avenger, to her master,
Cnemon:

"In the first place I inform you of the death of Demæneta, brought
about on your account by my means; how it happened, if you will
admit me to your presence, I will relate to you in person. I have
been ten days on this island, having been made captive by one of the
robbers, who boasts that he is lieutenant to the chief, and keeps
me closely confined--as he says, out of love; as I suppose, lest I
should be taken from him. By the kindness of the gods, I have seen and
recognized you, and send this tablet to you privately by an old woman
who waits upon me, commanding her to deliver it to a handsome Greek,
a favourite of the chief. Deliver me from the power of these pirates,
and receive to yourself your handmaid; and, if you can prevail upon
yourself, preserve her; knowing that in what I acted against you I was
compelled, but the revenging you of your enemy was my own voluntary
act. But, if you still feel an inextinguishable resentment against
me, satiate it as you please; only let me be in your hands, even if I
am to die by them; I prefer death from you, and to have the rites of
my country performed over my remains, to a life that is more dreadful
than death; and to the love of a barbarian, more odious to me than the
hatred of a Greek. "--This was the contents of the tablet.

"O Thisbe," said Cnemon, "the gods have wisely ordained your death;
and that you should become, even after your slaughter, the relater of
your calamities; the Fury[7] who has driven you through the world,
has not ceased her avenging pursuit, till she has made me, whom you
have injured, even in Egypt, a spectator of your punishment. But what
accident is it which has stopped your career, while perhaps this
letter of yours was only the forerunner of some new practice against
me? for I cannot help suspecting you even now that you are dead. I fear
lest the account of Demæneta's death should be a fiction; lest those
who have informed me of it should have deceived me; lest you should
have crossed the seas with a design to renew in Egypt the tragedies you
have acted against me in Attica. "--"Ο you courageous fellow! " cries out
Theagenes, "will you never cease to terrify yourself with shades and
fancies? You cannot pretend that she has bewitched me, at any rate,
for I have had no part in the drama; assure yourself that no harm can
arise to you from this dead corpse, and pluck up your spirits: but who
has been so far your benefactor as to slay your enemy, and how and when
she descended here, I am utterly at a loss to imagine. "--"As to the
matter in general I am so too," replied Cnemon; "but he who slew her
was certainly Thyamis, as I conjecture from the sword which was found
near the body; I know it to be his, by the ivory hilt carved into the
form of an eagle. "--"But can you conjecture," said the other, "how,
and when, and for what cause, he committed this murder? "--"How should
I know that? " he answered. "This cavern has not had the virtue of
inspiring me, like that of Delphi or Trophonius. "

The mention of Delphi seemed to agitate Theagenes, and drew tears
from Chariclea; they repeated the name with great emotion. Cnemon was
surprised, and could not conceive why they were so affected by it. In
this manner they were engaged in the cave. Meanwhile Thermuthis, the
lieutenant of Thyamis, after he had been wounded and had got to land in
the manner we have related, when night came on, hastened towards the
cavern in search of Thisbe; for he it was who had placed her there. He
had some days before taken her by force from the merchant Nausicles
in a narrow mountain pass. On the tumult and attack which soon after
ensued, when he was sent by Thyamis in search of a victim, he let her
down into this cavern, that she might be out of the reach of danger,
and in his hurry and confusion left her near the entrance of it. Here
she remained out of fear, and ignorance of the winding passages which
led to the bottom; and here Thyamis found and killed her by mistake for
Chariclea. Thermuthis proceeded on his way to Thisbe. Upon reaching
the island he hastened to the tents; these he found in ashes: and
having with some difficulty discovered the entrance of the cavern, by
means of the stone covering, he lighted a handful of reeds which yet
remained there, and hastened to descend into it.

He called Thisbe by her name, in Greek; but when he saw her lying dead
at his feet, he stood motionless with horror and surprise. At length
he heard a murmur and distant sound of voices issuing from the hollow
recesses of the cave; for Theagenes and Cnemon were still conversing
together.

These he concluded to be the murderers of Thisbe, and was in doubt
what he should do; for as was natural in a ferocious pirate, his rage,
raised to the highest pitch by this disappointment of his desires,
urged him to rush at once upon the supposed authors of it; but his want
of arms made him unwillingly more cautious. He concluded therefore that
it was best at first not to present himself as an enemy, but if by
any means he could possess himself of arms, then to attack them on a
sudden. With this design he advanced towards Theagenes, throwing wild
and fierce glances around him, and discovering in his looks the purpose
of his heart.

They were surprised at the sudden appearance of a stranger, almost
naked, wounded, and with his face bloody. Chariclea, startled and
ashamed, retired into the inmost part of the cave. Cnemon too drew
a little back, knowing Thermuthis, seeing him unexpectedly, and
fearing that he came there on no good account. But Theagenes was more
irritated than terrified, and presenting the point of his sword, called
out, "Stand where you are, or you shall receive another wound; thus
far I spare you, because I know your face, and am not sure of your
designs. "--Thermuthis stretched out his unarmed hands, and besought
his compassion; forced, notwithstanding his rugged temper, from the
circumstance he was in, to become a supplicant. He called on Cnemon
for assistance, and said he deserved help from him, having never
injured him; having lived with him as a comrade, and coming now as
a friend. Cnemon was moved by his entreaties; raised him from the
knees of Theagenes which he had embraced, and eagerly inquired where
was Thyamis. The latter related all he knew--how his leader had
attacked the enemy; how he had rushed into the midst of the battle,
sparing neither his foes nor himself; the slaughter he made of them;
and the protection which the proclamation to take him alive afforded
him. He mentioned his own wound and escape, but knew nothing of his
captain's fate; and was come here in search of Thisbe. They inquired
how he became so interested about Thisbe; and how she came into his
possession. He told them everything: how he had taken her from a
merchant; how he fell violently in love with her, and had concealed
her some time in his tent, and at the approach of the attacking party
had placed her in the cave where he now saw her slain; that he was
perfectly ignorant of the authors of her death, but would most gladly
find them out if he could, and ascertain their motive.

Cnemon, eager to free himself from suspicion, told him it was certainly
Thyamis who slew her; and shewed him the sword which was found beside
her; which, when Thermuthis saw, still reeking with blood, and warm
from the wound, and knew it to have belonged to Thyamis, he uttered a
deep groan, still more perplexed how to account for the accident, and
in dumb gloomy astonishment moved towards the mouth of the cave. Here
throwing himself upon the bosom of the deceased, he embraced the body,
and repeating nothing but the name of Thisbe, fainter by degrees and
fainter, oppressed with grief and fatigue, sunk at last into a sleep.

The remainder of the company in the cave began now to consult what
steps it was proper for them to pursue. But the multitude of their
past calamities, the pressure of the present misfortunes, and the
uncertainty of what might happen to them, obscured the light, and
weakened the force, of their reason. Each looked at the other,
expecting him to say something; and being disappointed, turned his eyes
to the ground; and raising them again, sighed, lightening a little
his grief by this expression of it. At length Cnemon sat down on the
ground; Theagenes threw himself on a rock, and Chariclea reclined upon
him. In this posture they a long time resisted the attacks of sleep,
desirous, if they could, to devise some scheme of action; but, overcome
at last with grief and fatigue, they unwillingly yielded to the law of
nature, and fell into a sweet slumber from the very excess of sorrow.
Thus is the intelligent soul obliged sometimes to sympathise with the
affections of the body.

When sleep had for a little while just weighed their eye-lids down,
the following vision appeared to Chariclea. A man with his hair in
disorder, a downcast look, and bloody hands, seemed to come and thrust
out her right eye with a sword. She instantly cried out, and called
upon Theagenes. He was soon awakened, and felt for her uneasiness,
though it was only in a dream. She lifted her hand to her face, as
if in search of the part she had lost, and then exclaimed, "It was a
dream; my eye is safe! "--"I am glad," replied Theagenes, "that those
bright sunbeams are uninjured. But what has ailed you? how came you so
terrified? "--"A savage and violent man," says she, "not fearing even
your valour, attacked me with a sword as I lay at your feet; and, as
I thought, deprived me of my right eye; and would that it had been a
reality and not a vision! "--"Now Heaven forefend! why do you make so
shocking a wish? "--"Because I would much rather lose one of my eyes
than be under apprehensions for you; for I greatly fear that the dream
regards you, whom I esteem as my eyes, my soul, my all. "--"Cease,"
called out Cnemon (who had heard all that had passed, having been
awakened by the first exclamation of Chariclea), "for I think the
vision has another interpretation. Had you any parents living when
you left Greece? "--"I had," she replied. --"Believe then now that your
father is dead. I form my conjecture from hence: Our parents are the
authors of our being; therefore they may properly enough in a dream be
shadowed out under the similitude of eyes, the organs of light, which
convey to us things visible. "

"The loss of my father," replied Chariclea, "would be a heavy blow; but
let even your interpretation be the true one, rather mine. I consent
to pass for a false prophet! "--"Be it so," replied Cnemon; "but we are
indeed dreaming, while we are examining fancies and visions, and forget
to apply ourselves to our real business, especially while the absence
of the Egyptian (meaning Thermuthis), who is employed in lamenting his
deceased love, gives us an opportunity. "--"Ο Cnemon," said Theagenes,
"since some god has joined you to us, and made you a partaker in our
calamities, do you advise us what to do, for you are acquainted with
the country and language; and we, oppressed with a greater weight of
misfortunes, are less fit for counsel. "

"Which of us has the greater load of misfortunes to struggle with, is
by no means clear," said Cnemon. "I have my full share of them; but,
however, as I am the elder, and you command me to speak, I will obey
you. The island where we are, you see, is desolate, and contains none
but ourselves. Of gold, silver, and precious garments, plundered from
you and others, and heaped together by the pirates, there is plenty;
but of food and other necessaries, it is totally destitute. If we stay
here, we are in danger of perishing by famine, or of being destroyed
by some of the invaders, or by the buccaneers, if, knowing of the
treasures which are left here, they return again in search of them.
There will then be no escape; either we shall perish, or be exposed
to their violence and insults. They are always a faithless race, and
will now be more disorderly and dreadful, having lost their chief. We
must fly, therefore, from this place, as from a snare and a prison,
sending Thermuthis away first, if we can, under pretext of inquiring
after Thyamis, for we shall be more at liberty to consult and act by
ourselves. It is prudent, too, to remove from us a man of an unconstant
temper, of savage manners, and who, besides, suspects us on account
of the death of Thisbe, and probably only waits for an opportunity to
commit some violence against us. "

The advice of Cnemon was approved of; and they determined to follow
it; and moving towards the mouth of the cave, the day now beginning to
dawn, they roused Thermuthis, who was still sunk in sleep; and telling
him as much as they thought proper of their design, easily persuaded a
fickle-minded man. They then took the body of Thisbe, drew it into a
hollow of the rock, covered it as well as they could with ashes from
the tents, and performed what funeral rites the time and place would
admit of, supplying what was deficient by tears and lamentations.

They next proceeded to send out Thermuthis on the expedition they had
projected for him. He set out, but soon returned, declaring he would
not go alone, nor expose himself to the danger of so perilous a search,
unless Cnemon would bear him company. Theagenes, observing that this
proposal was by no means agreeable to Cnemon, who betrayed evident
marks of fear and apprehension when informed of it, said to him, "You
are valiant in council, Cnemon, but a laggard in action; you have
shown this more than once; pluck up your spirits, and prove yourself
a man. It is necessary that this fellow should have no suspicion, at
present, of our design to leave him. Seem to agree, therefore, to what
he proposes, and go with him at first; for there is no danger to be
apprehended from an unarmed man, especially by you who are armed. You
may take your opportunity, and leave him privately, and come to us at
some place which we shall fix upon; and we will, if you please, mention
some neighbouring town, if you know any, where the inhabitants are a
little civilized. "

Cnemon agreed to this, and named Chemmis, a rich and populous place,
situated on a rising ground on the banks of the Nile, by way of defence
against the incursions of the pirates, about one hundred furlongs
distant from the lake directly south. "I fear," said Theagenes, "that
Chariclea will find some difficulty in getting thither, as she is
unused to walking; however, we will attempt it, and pretend that we are
beggars who seek our living by showing juggling tricks. "

"Truly," said Cnemon, "your faces are sufficiently disfigured for such
a business, particularly Chariclea's, who has just lost an eye; after
all, though, I fear you will rather appear guests for the table than
petitioners for scraps at the door. "[8]--This sally was received with
a forced and languid smile, which played only on the lips. They then
prepared to depart, swearing never to desert each other, and calling
the gods to witness it.

Cnemon and Thermuthis set out early in the morning; and, crossing the
lake, took their way through a thick and difficult wood. Thermuthis
went first, at the persuasion of Cnemon, on the pretext that, as he
was acquainted with the country, he was better qualified to lead;
in reality, that the other might more easily find an opportunity
of deserting him. They met with some flocks in their way; and the
shepherds fled, at their approach, into the thickest of the wood. They
seized a ram, roasted him at a fire the shepherds had lighted, and
hardly staying till it was sufficiently dressed, devoured the flesh
with eagerness. Hunger pressed them; they fell upon it like wolves;
swallowed whole pieces, just warmed through, and still dropping with
blood. When they had satisfied their hunger, and allayed their thirst
with milk, they pursued their way. Evening now approached, and they
were ascending a hill under which was situated a town, where Thermuthis
said it was very probable that Thyamis was either detained a captive
or had been slain. Here Cnemon pretended that he felt great pain; that
his stomach was exceedingly disordered by his inordinate repast of meat
and drink, and that he must retire to ease it. This he did two or three
times, that his companion might suspect nothing, and complained that it
was with great difficulty he could follow him. When he had accustomed
the Egyptian to his staying behind, he took an opportunity at last to
let him go on forwards farther than usual; and then, turning suddenly
back, he ran down the hill as fast as he could into the thickest part
of the bushes. Thermuthis, when he had arrived at the summit, sat
himself down on a rock, expecting the approach of night, which they had
agreed to wait for before they entered into the town to inquire after
Thyamis. He looked about for his companion, having no good designs
against him, for he was still persuaded that he had slain Thisbe, and
was considering how he might serve him in the same manner; proposing
afterwards to attack Theagenes. But when Cnemon appeared nowhere, and
night advanced, he fell asleep--a deadly[9] and last sleep it proved to
him, for an asp, which had lain concealed in a thicket, bit him, and
put a fitting end to his life.

But Cnemon, after he had left Thermuthis, stopped not in his flight
till the darkness of the night obliged him to make a halt. He then
endeavoured to conceal himself by lying down and covering himself as
well as he could with leaves. Here he passed a restless and almost
sleepless night, taking every noise, every gust of wind, and motion of
a leaf, for Thermuthis. If at any time he dropped into a slumber, he
thought he was fleeing;[10] and looking behind, imagined he saw him
pursuing, who was now unable to follow him; till at last he resisted
all approaches of sleep, his dreams becoming more dreadful to him than
even his waking apprehensions.

He was uneasy at the duration of the night, which appeared to him the
longest he had ever spent. At length, to his great joy, day appeared.
He[11] then proceeded to cut his hair short, which he had suffered
to grow, in imitation of, and to recommend himself to, his piratical
companions, for the pirates, willing to render themselves as formidable
as they can, among other things, cherish long hair, which they suffer
to grow down their foreheads, and play over their shoulders, well
knowing that flowing locks, as they make the lover more amiable, so
they render the warrior more terrible. When Cnemon, therefore, had
shaped his hair into the common form, he proceeded to Chemmis, where
he had appointed to meet Theagenes. As he drew near the Nile, and was
preparing to pass over it to Chemmis, he perceived an old man wandering
upon its banks, walking several times up and down the stream, as if
he were communicating his cares to the river. His locks were as white
as snow, and shaped like those of a priest; his beard flowing and
venerable; his habit Grecian. Cnemon stopped a little; but when the
old man passed by many times, seemingly unconscious that any one was
near (so entirely was he immersed in care and meditation), he placed
himself before him, and, in the Grecian manner of salutation, bid him
be of good cheer. [12] The other replied, his fortunes were such that
good cheer was out of the question. Cnemon, surprised, asked: "Are you
a stranger from Greece, or from whence? "--"I am neither a Grecian nor
a stranger," said he, "but an Egyptian of this country. "--"Why, then,
have you a Grecian dress? "--"My misfortunes," says he, "have put me
into this splendid habit. " The other, wondering how misfortunes could
improve a man's appearance, and seeming desirous to be informed--"You
carry me into a 'tale of Troy divine,'"[13] replied the old man; "and
a swarm of evils, the recital of which would oppress you. But whence
do you come, Ο young man, and whither are you going? and how come I
to hear the Greek tongue in Egypt? "--"It is a little unreasonable in
you," replied Cnemon, "to ask these questions of me, you who will
tell nothing about yourself, though I made the first inquiries. "--"I
admit it," said the other; "but do not be offended. You seem to be a
Greek, and to have yourself undergone some transformation from the
hand of fortune. You are desirous to hear my adventures; I am no less
so to relate them. Probably I had told them to these reeds, as the
fable[14] goes, if I had not met with you. But let us leave the Nile
and its banks; for a situation exposed to the meridian sun is not a
proper place for a long narration. If you have no urgent business which
hinders you, let us go to the town which you see opposite to us. I
will entertain you, not in my own house, but in that of a good man who
received me when I implored his protection. There you may listen to my
story, and in your turn relate your own. "--"With all my heart," said
Cnemon, "for I myself was going to this town to wait for some friends
of mine, whom I had appointed to meet there. " Getting, therefore, into
a boat, many of which were lying by the river's side, to transport
passengers, they crossed over into the town, and arrived at the house
where the stranger was lodged. The master of the house was not at home;
but his daughter, a marriageable maiden, received them with great
cheerfulness, and the servants waited upon the old man as if he had
been their father, most probably by their master's orders. One washed
his feet, and wiped off the dust from under his knees; another got
ready his bed, and strewed it with soft coverings; a third brought an
urn, and filled it with fire; a fourth prepared the table, and spread
it with bread and various kinds of fruit.

Cnemon, wondering at their alacrity, exclaimed, "We have certainly got
into the house of Jove the Hospitable,[15] such is the attention and
singular benevolence with which we are received. "--"You have not got
into the habitation of Jove," replied the other, "but into that of
a man who exactly imitates his hospitable and charitable qualities:
for his life[16] has been a mercantile and wandering one; he has seen
many cities, and observed the manners of many nations; he is naturally
therefore inclined to compassionate the stranger, and receive the
wanderer, as he did me not many days ago. "--"And how came you to be
a wanderer, father? "--"Being deprived," said he, "of my children by
robbers; knowing those who had injured me, but unable to contend with
them; I roam about this spot, mourning and sorrowing; not unlike a
bird whose nest a serpent[17] has made desolate, and is devouring
her young before her eyes. She is afraid to approach, yet cannot
bear to desert them; terror and affection struggle within her; she
flies mournfully round the scene of her calamities, pouring in vain
her maternal complaints into ears deaf to her waitings and strangers
to mercy. "--"Will you then relate," said Cnemon, "when and how you
encountered this grievous war of woe? "--"By-and-bye," he replied; "but
let us now attend to our craving stomach; which, because it considers
itself of more consequence than any other organ, is called by Homer
_destructive_. [18] And first, as is the custom of the Egyptian sages,
let us make a libation to the gods. Nothing shall make me omit this;
nor shall grief ever so entirely possess my mind, as to render me
forgetful of what I owe to heaven. " With this he poured pure water
out of the vase, and said, "I make this libation to the gods of this
country, and those of Greece; to the Pythian Apollo, and also to
Theagenes and Chariclea, the good and beautiful, since I reckon them
also among the gods:" and then he wept, as if he were making another
libation to them with his tears. Cnemon, greatly struck at what he
heard, viewed the old man from head to foot, and exclaimed, "What do
you say? Are Theagenes and Chariclea really your children? "--"They are
my children," replied the stranger, "but born to me without a mother.
Fortune, by the permission of the gods, gave them to me; I brought
them forth with the travail of my soul. My great inclination towards
them supplied the place of nature; and I have been esteemed by them,
and called their father. But tell me, how came you acquainted with
them? "--"I am not only acquainted with them," said Cnemon, "but can
assure you that they are alive and well. "--"Ο Apollo, and all the
gods! " he exclaimed, "where are they?
Tell me, I beseech you; and you
will be my preserver and equal to the gods! "--"But what shall be my
reward? " replied the other. --"At present that of obliging me; no mean
reward to a wise man: I know many who have laid up this as a treasure
in their hearts. But if we arrive in my country, which, if I may
believe the tokens of the gods, will ere long be, your utmost desires
shall be satisfied with wealth. "

"You promise me," said Cnemon, "things uncertain and future, when you
have it in your power to reward me immediately. "--"Show me anything
I can now do for you," said the old man, "for I would willingly part
even with a limb to satisfy you. "--"Your limbs need be in no danger,"
replied the Grecian; "I shall be satisfied if you will relate to me
from whence these strangers come, who were their parents, how they were
brought here, and what have been their adventures. "--"You shall have a
treat," replied the old man; "so great as to be second to none other,
not even if you should obtain all earthly treasures. But let us now
take a little food; for my narration and your listening will take up a
considerable time. "

When they had eaten, therefore, some nuts and figs, and fresh-gathered
dates, and such other things as the old man was used to feed upon (for
he never deprived any animal of life for his own nourishment), he drank
a little water, and Cnemon some wine; and, after a short pause, the
latter said: "You know, Ο father, that Bacchus delights in convivial
conversations and stories; and as I am now under his influence, I
am very desirous of hearing some, and I claim from you my promised
reward: it is time to bring your piece upon the stage, as the saying
goes. "--"You shall be satisfied," replied the stranger: "but I wish the
good Nausicles were here, who has often earnestly desired to hear this
detail from me, and as often, on some pretext or other, has been put
off. "--At the name of Nausicles, Cnemon asked where he was. "He is gone
a hunting," replied the other. --"And after what kind of game? "--"Why,
not indeed of wild beasts, but of men as savage as they, who are called
buccaneers, who live by robbery, who are very difficult to be taken,
and lurk in marshes, caverns, and lakes. "--"What offence have they
given him? "--"They have taken his mistress from him, an Athenian girl,
whom he called Thisbe. "--"Ah! " said Cnemon, in a tone of surprise, and
immediately stopped, as if checking himself. --"What ails you? " said
the old man. --The other, evading the question, proceeded, "I wonder
with what forces he means to attack them? "--"Oroondates, viceroy of
Egypt, under the Great King, has appointed Mithranes commandant of this
town; Nausicles, by means of a large sum of money, has prevailed upon
him to march with a body of horse and foot against them; for he is
exceedingly annoyed at the loss of this Grecian girl; not only because
he liked her himself, and because she was well skilled in music; but
because he was going to take her with him to the king of Ethiopia, by
way of attendant upon the queen, as he said, and to amuse her after
the Grecian fashion. Being deprived, therefore, as he supposes, by her
loss, of a great reward which he expected for her, he is using his
utmost efforts to recover her. I encouraged him too to this expedition,
thinking it possible he might find and recover my children also. "
"Enough of buccaneers, and viceroys, and kings," cried out Cnemon,
impatiently; "your discourse is wandering from the point I aim at. This
episode[19] has nothing to do with the main plot; come back to the
performance of your promise; you are like the Pharian Proteus;[20] not
turning indeed into false and fleeting shapes, but trying to slip away
from me. "--"Be satisfied," said the old man, "you shall know all. I
will explain to you first what relates to myself, shortly, and without
reserve; which will be a proper introduction to that which is to follow.

"I am a citizen of Memphis. The name of my father was Calasiris, as
is likewise mine. Though now a wanderer, I was not long ago a high
priest. I had a wife, but have now lost her; after her death I lived
for some time quietly, delighting myself with two sons whom she had
left me. But in a few years, the fated revolution of the heavenly
bodies altered every thing; the eye of Saturn scowled upon my family,
and portended a change in my fortunes for the worse. I had skill enough
to foresee the ills which threatened me, but not to avoid them; for no
foresight can enable us to escape the immutable decrees of fate: it
is, however, an advantage, to have some foreknowledge of them, as it
blunts the violence of the stroke. Unexpected misfortunes, my son, are
intolerable; those which are foreseen are more easily borne: the mind
is confused and disarmed by sudden fear; custom and reason strengthen
it. My calamities began in this manner:

"A Thracian woman, in the bloom of youth and in beauty second only to
Chariclea, whose name was Rhodope, unfortunately for those who became
acquainted with her, travelled through Egypt. In her progress[21]
she came in 'revel-rout' to Memphis, with great luxury and pomp of
attendance, and adorned with every grace, and exercising all the
arts of love. It was almost impossible to see her, and not fall into
her snares; such irresistible witchery accompanied the eyes of this
fair[22] harlot. She frequently came into the temple of Isis, where I
officiated as high priest. She worshipped the goddess with sacrifices
and costly offerings. I am ashamed to proceed; yet I will not conceal
the truth. The frequent sight of her overcame me at last, in spite of
the command I had long been accustomed to maintain over my passions.
I struggled long against my bodily eyes and the eyes of my fancy,
but in vain; I yielded at last, and sank under the dominion of love.
I perceived that the arrival of this woman was to be the beginning
of those misfortunes which the heavens foretold to me; and that my
evil genius was to make her one of the principal instruments of them.
I determined, however, to do nothing to disgrace that office of
priesthood which had descended to me from my ancestors, nor to profane
the altars and temples of the gods: and as to the transgression which
my evil stars had determined I should fall into, not in act, indeed
(heaven forbid! ) but in desire; I constituted reason my judge, and
made her impose the penalty of exile from my native land, yielding
to the necessity of fate, submitting to its decrees, and flying
from the ill-omened Rhodope. For I will own to you, Ο stranger!
that I was afraid, lest, under the present baleful influence of the
constellations, I might be tempted to do something unbecoming my
character. Another, and a principal reason for my absenting myself,
was, on account of my children; for my skill in divination shewed me
that they were in a short time to contend with each other in arms.

"Snatching myself away, therefore, from a spectacle so dreadful to a
father's eyes (sufficient to turn aside the aspect of the sun, and make
him hide his beams), I departed from my country, from my house, and
family, making no one acquainted with the course I intended to take,
but pretending that I was going to Egyptian Thebes, to see my eldest
son Thyamis, who was there on a visit to his grandfather. "--Cnemon
started again at the name of Thyamis; but restrained himself, and was
silent, desirous to hear the sequel. The old man, after observing--

"I pass over the intermediate part of my journey, for it has no
relation to what you desire to know," thus proceeded: "But having
heard that there was a famous city in Greece, called Delphi, sacred
to Apollo, abounding in temples, the resort of wise men, retired, and
free from popular tumults; thither I bent my steps, thinking that a
city destined for sacred rites was a proper retreat for one of my
profession. I sailed through the Crissæan gulf, and landing at Cirrha,
proceeded to the city: when I entered it, a voice, no doubt divine,
sounded in my ears; and as in other respects this place seemed a fit
habitation for a superior race, so particularly on account of its
situation. The mountain Parnassus hangs over it, as a kind of natural
fortification and citadel, stretching out its sides, and receiving
the city into its bosom. " "Your description is most graphic, cried
out Cnemon, "and seems really made under the influence of the Pythic
inspiration; for in this manner I remember well my father described
Delphi, when he returned from the council of the Amphictyons, to which
the city of Athens had deputed him as sacred secretary. "[23]--"You are
an Athenian then, my son? "--"Yes. "--"Your name? "--Cnemon. "--"What have
been your fortunes? "--"You shall hear by-and-bye. Now however continue
your own narration. "--"I will," replied the old man.

"I ascended into the place, I admired the city of race-courses, of
market-places, and of fountains, especially the famed one of Castalia,
with the water of which I sprinkled myself, and hastened to the temple;
for the thronging of the multitude, which pressed towards it, seemed to
announce the time when the priestess was about to be under the sacred
impulse;[24] and having worshipped and uttered a petition for myself, I
received the following oracle:

Thou from the fertile Nile, thy course dost bend,[25]
Pause here awhile, and sojourn as my friend:
Stern fate thou fly'st, her strokes with courage bear;
Ere long of Egypt thou shalt have a share.

"As soon as the priestess had pronounced this, I fell upon my face, and
besought the deity to be propitious to me in everything. The crowd who
surrounded the shrine, joined in praising the deity for having deigned
to answer me on my first entreaty; they congratulated me, and paid me
great respect, saying, that I seemed to be the greatest favourite with
the deity who had appeared there since Lycurgus,[26] a Spartan. They
permitted me at my request to inhabit the precincts of the temple, and
passed a decree that I should be maintained at the public expense. My
situation, in short, was a very agreeable one; I either assisted at the
ceremonies and sacrifices which were every day performed and offered
by strangers as well as natives, or conversed with the philosophers,
for many of this description flocked to Delphi. The city[27] is in
truth a university, inspired by the deity who presides over inspiration
and the muses. Various subjects were discussed; sometimes the manner
of our religious rites in Egypt, and why certain animals were counted
sacred more than others; and the different histories which belonged to
each. Another inquired about the construction of the Pyramids and the
Catacombs. [28] In short, there was nothing relative to Egypt which they
did not scrutinize into; for it is wonderful how the Greeks listen to,
and are delighted with, accounts of that country. At length one among
the more accomplished of them touched upon the Nile, its fountains,
and inundations, wondering why it alone, of all rivers, should in
the summer time swell and overflow. I told them what I knew on that
subject, which I had gathered from the sacred books which the priests
alone are permitted to consult. I related how it had its rise on the
south-east confines of Libya and Ethiopia; that it increased in the
summer, not because its waters, as some supposed, were driven back by
the Etesian[29] winds, but because these winds, about the time of the
summer solstice, drive the clouds before them from the northern into
the southern parts, which are by this means collected in the torrid
zone, where their farther motion is stopped by the extreme vehemence of
the heat. They are then condensed, and pressed by degrees, till they
dissolve, and fall in copious showers. These swell the river till it
disdains its banks, and, bursting over Egypt like a sea, fertilizes the
plains it overflows. Its waters are very sweet to drink, as they are
furnished by the rains from heaven; they are not hot to the touch as
they are higher up, but nevertheless are tepid; they exhale no vapours
like other rivers, which they certainly would do, if (as some learned
Grecians suppose) their rise was owing to the melting of the snows.

"While I was discoursing in this manner, one of the priests of Apollo,
whose name was Charicles, with whom I had contracted some intimacy,
said, 'I am pleased with what you say, and agree with you entirely,
for I have heard the same account of this matter from the priests at
the cataracts of the Nile. '--'And have you been as far as there,' said
I? --'I have,' he replied. --'On what account? '--'On occasion of some
family misfortunes, which, however, at last became the course of my
happiness. ' When I expressed some surprize at this, 'You would not
wonder,' said he, 'if you were to hear the whole matter as it happened;
and you may hear it whenever you please. '--'I should be very glad to
hear it at once,' said I. --'Attend then,' said Charicles; 'for I have
long, and from an interested motive, wished for an opportunity of
relating my story to you:'--and, dismissing the general company, he
began as follows:

"'I had been married a considerable time without having children;[30]
I wearied the gods with supplications; and at last, in an advanced
stage of life, I became the father of a little daughter, but who was
born, as the gods foretold, not under auspicious destiny. She became
marriageable, and had many suitors. I married her to him whom I thought
most worthy of her; and on the very wedding night she was burnt in
her bed, her apartment having been set on fire either by accident or
lightning. The hymeneal song, which was still resounding, was turned
into a dirge: she was carried from the marriage apartment to her grave;
and the torches, which had illuminated the nuptial procession, now
lighted the funeral pile.

"'My evil genius added yet another calamity to this tragedy, and took
from me the mother of my child, who sank under her sorrows.

"'Such a series of misfortunes was almost too much for me. It was with
difficulty I abstained from laying violent hands upon myself; I had
however strength of mind sufficient to refrain from an action which
the teachers of religion pronounce unlawful. But being unable to bear
the solitude and silence of my house, I left my country, for to deaden
memory by turning the eyes upon new objects is a great palliative to
grief. I wandered into various parts, and came at last into your Egypt,
and to Caladupa,[31] in order to visit the cataracts of the Nile: this,
my friend, was the occasion of my coming into your country, which you
inquired after. I must now proceed to a digression, though it more
properly forms the principal reason of my entering at all into this
narration.

"'While I was wandering at leisure through the city, and buying some
things of the Greeks (for time having now considerably alleviated my
grief, I thought of returning into my country), I was accosted by a
middle-aged man, with the complexion of an Ethiopian, but of a grave
deportment, and bearing marks of prudence in his aspect: he saluted
me, and in broken Greek said he wished to speak to me. I readily
consenting, he took me into a neighbouring temple, and said: "I saw
you cheapening some Indian, Ethiopian, and Egyptian roots and herbs;
if you really have a desire to buy some, I can furnish you. "--"I shall
be very glad to see them," I replied. --"You must not beat me down too
much," said he. --"Do not then be too exorbitant on your part," was my
answer. --With that he pulled a small pouch from a pocket under his arm,
and showed me some jewels of inestimable value: there were pearls as
big as nuts, perfectly round, and of the purest white; emeralds and
amethysts--the former as green as the vernal corn, and shining with a
kind of oily lustre; the latter resembling the colour of the sea-beach,
when played upon by the shadows of an overhanging rock, which impart to
it a purple tinge. [32] The mingled brilliancy of the whole collection
astonished and delighted my eyes.

"'After having contemplated them for some time, I said, "You must seek
some other purchaser; my whole fortune would scarcely be sufficient to
procure one of these gems. "--"But if you cannot buy them," he replied,
"you may receive them as a present. "--"Certainly! but why are you
jesting with me? "--"I am not jesting with you, I am serious in what I
say; and I swear to you by the deity whose shrine we are before, that
I will give you everything which I have shown you, if, in addition to
these, you will receive from my hands a present far more precious than
all which you behold. "--I could not help smiling: he asked the cause
of it. --"Because it seems to me ridiculous," said I, "that when you
promise me gifts of such price, you should besides make me expect a
present still more valuable. "--"Nevertheless, believe me," he replied,
"and swear to me that you will use my gift well, and in the manner
which I shall exact from you. "--I wondered and doubted, but at last
swore to him, allured by the hopes of such treasures. When I had taken
such an oath as he required, he conducted me to his house, and showed
me a girl of wonderful and more than mortal beauty: He affirmed she
was but seven years old; but she appeared to me to be almost of a
marriageable age, so much did her uncommon beauty seem to add even to
her stature. I stood for some time motionless, ignorant of what was to
follow, and ravished with the sight before me; when my conductor thus
addressed me:

"'"The child whom you behold, Ο stranger, was exposed, when an infant,
by her mother, and left at the mercy of fortune, for a reason which you
shall hear by-and-bye. It happened luckily that I found, and took her
up; for I could not allow myself to desert in its danger a soul which
had once entered a human body: in so doing I should have transgressed
the precepts of our Gymnosophists,[33] of whom I had been privileged
to be a disciple. Something, too, uncommon and divine, seemed to beam
from the eyes of the infant, which were cast upon me with sparkling
yet engaging lustre. There was exposed with her this profusion of
jewels which I have shown you. There was a silken fillet, on which was
written some account of the child, in letters of her native country;
her mother, I suppose, taking care to place these explanations with
her. When I had read it, and knew from whence and whose the infant
was, I took her to a farm at a distance from the city, and placed her
in the hands of shepherds to be nourished, enjoining them to keep her
as private as possible. I myself kept the jewels which were exposed
with her, lest they might tempt any one to destroy the child. The
whole transaction remained for a while a secret; but, in process of
time, as she grew up and increased more than commonly in stature and
in beauty (so much so, indeed, that her charms would not have been
concealed even in the bowels of the earth), fearing some discovery to
her prejudice, and that I, too, might come into some trouble about
her: I procured myself to be sent ambassador into Egypt. I came here:
I brought the girl with me, being very desirous of placing her in some
secure situation. The viceroy of this country has appointed to give me
audience to-day: meanwhile I deliver up to you, and to the gods, the
disposers of all events, this child; trusting that you will observe
the conditions you have sworn to; that you will preserve her free, as
you have received her, and marry her to a free man. I confide in your
performing all you have promised; not depending alone on your oaths,
but on your disposition and general conduct, which I have observed for
the many days which you have spent in this city, and which I see to be
truly worthy of Greece, that renowned country to which you owe your
birth. This is all I can say to you at present, as the business of
my embassy calls me; but, if you will meet me at the temple of Isis
to-morrow, you shall have a more particular and exact account of your
charge. "

"'I did as I was desired. I took the girl home with me to my house:
I treated her with respect and tenderness, giving thanks to the gods
for the event; and from that time calling and esteeming her as my
daughter. The next morning I hastened to the temple of Isis, where the
stranger had appointed me; and after I had walked about and waited a
considerable time, and saw nothing of him, I went to the palace of the
viceroy, and inquired if any one had seen the Ethiopian ambassador. I
was there told that he had left the city, or rather had been driven
out of it, the evening before,--the viceroy threatening him with death
if he did not immediately quit the province. When I inquired into the
cause of so sudden a proceeding, I learned that he had, with some
haughtiness, forbidden the governor to meddle with the emerald mines,
which he claimed as belonging exclusively to Ethiopia. I returned
home vexed and disappointed, as I was by this accident prevented from
knowing the condition, the country, and parents of the child. '"

"I am vexed, too, as much as he was," said Cnemon, "for my curiosity on
these subjects is nearly as great; but, perhaps, it may be satisfied in
the progress of your narration. " "Possibly it may," replied Calasiris;
"but now, if you please, let Charicles proceed with his own story,"
which he thus continued:--

"'When I arrived at my house, the child came out to meet me. She could
not speak to me, knowing nothing of Greek; but she saluted me with her
hand, and the sight of her began to console me for my disappointment.
I saw, with admiration, that, as a generous race of hounds fawn upon
those who notice them; so she seemed to have a strong sense of my
kindness for her, and to consider me in the light of a father. I
determined to stay no longer at Caladupa, lest some envious deity
should deprive me of my second daughter. Embarking, therefore, on the
Nile, I reached the sea, got on board a ship, and arrived in Greece.
This child is now with me: I have given her my name, and all my cares
are centred in her. Her improvements exceed my warmest wishes. She
has learned my language with surprising quickness: she has grown up to
perfection like a nourishing plant. Her beauty is so transcendent as
to attract every eye upon her, both Grecian and foreign. [34] Wherever
she appears--in the temple, in the course, or in the market-place--she
draws to her the looks and thoughts of all, like the model statue of
some goddess. Yet, with all this, she is the cause of great uneasiness
to me: she[35] obstinately refuses to marry, determines to lead a
life of celibacy, consecrates herself to Diana, and spends most of
her leisure hours in the chase, and with her bow. This is a severe
disappointment to me, for I wished to give her to my sister's son, an
accomplished and graceful young man; but my wishes are frustrated by
this preposterous fancy of hers. Neither entreaties, nor promises, nor
reasoning, can work upon her; and, what is most vexatious, she wounds
me, as they say, with a shaft drawn from my own bow, and employs the
eloquence which I have taught her in magnifying the way of life she
has chosen. She is inexhaustible in the praises of virginity; places
it next the life of the gods--pure, unmixed, uncorrupt. She is equally
skilful in depreciating love, and Venus, and marriage. I implore your
assistance in this matter; for which reason I was glad to seize the
opportunity you gave me, and have troubled you with a long story. Do
not desert me on this occasion, my good Calasiris, but employ the
wisdom you are master of, or even any charm you may know; persuade her
by words, or work upon her by incantations, to leave this unnatural
course, and to feel that she is born a woman: you can, I know, do this
if you will. She is not averse to the conversation of men; she has been
used to their company from her childhood. She lives, too, very near
you, here within the precincts of the temple. Condescend, I beseech, to
hear me, and grant what I desire. Suffer me not to spend a melancholy
and lonely old age, without hopes of having my family continued; I
entreat you by Apollo, and your country's gods. '"

"I was moved by his supplications, Cnemon. I could scarcely refrain
from tears: his own flowed in great abundance. I promised, in short,
to use my utmost skill in attempting what he desired. We were still
talking, when a messenger arrived in haste, and told us that the head
of the Ænianian embassy was at the door, and extremely impatient for
the priest to appear, and begin the sacred rites. When I inquired
who the Ænianians were, what was the nature of the embassy which
they had sent, and what sacrifice he was going to perform; he told
me that the Ænianians were a principal nation of Thessaly, entirely
Grecian, being descended from Deucalion--that their country extended
along the Malian bay--that they called their metropolis Hypata;[36] as
they would insinuate, because it was fit to rule over all the cities
of the province; as others pretended, because it was situated under
Mount Œta--that the embassy was sent by the Ænianians every fourth
year, at the time of the Pythian games--and the sacrifice offered to
Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles, who was here surprised and slain,[37]
at the very altar of Apollo, by Orestes the son of Agamemnon. But the
embassy of the present year will be yet more magnificent than any of
the former ones; for the head of it prides himself in being descended
from Achilles.

"I met the young man the other day, and indeed he seems worthy of the
family of Peleus: such is the nobleness of his stature and deportment,
that you will easily believe him sprung from a goddess.

"When I wondered how it came to pass, that he, being an Ænianian,
should pretend that he was of the race of Achilles (for Homer, our
great Egyptian poet makes Achilles a Phthiotian), 'the young man,' said
Charicles, 'claims him entirely as their own: for Thetis, he says,
certainly married Peleus out of the Malian bay; and the country which
extended along that bay was anciently called Phthia: but the glory of
the hero has induced others to claim him falsely as their countryman.
He is, besides, in another way, related to the Æacidæ: Mnestheus is his
ancestor, the son of Sperchius and Polydora, the daughter of Peleus,
who went with Achilles to the siege of Troy; and, being so nearly
connected with him, was among the chief leaders of the Myrmidons.

"'The ambassador abounds in arguments to support the claim of his
country to Achilles. He insists much upon this present embassy and
sacrifice to Neoptolemus; the honour of performing which, all the
Thessalians have, by common consent, yielded up to the Ænianians,
whereby they admit that they are most nearly related to him. '

"'Whether this be truth or vain assumption,' said I, 'be so good
now, if you please, as to call in the ambassador, for I am extremely
desirous to see him. '

"Charicles immediately sent to him, and the young man entered with an
air and aspect truly worthy of Achilles. His neck straight and erect,
his hair thrown back off his forehead; his nose and open nostrils
giving signs of an impetuous temper; his eyes of a deep blue, inclining
to black, imparting an animated but amiable look to his countenance,
like the sea smoothing itself from a storm into a calm.

"After he had received and returned our salutations, he said it was
time to proceed to the sacrifice, that there might be sufficient space
for the ceremonies which were to be performed to the Manes of the hero,
and for the procession which was to follow them. --'I am ready,' replied
Charicles, and rising, said to me, 'If you have not yet seen Chariclea,
you will see her to-day; for, as a priestess of Diana, she will be
present at these rites and the procession. '

"But I, Cnemon, had often seen the young woman before; I had sacrificed
and conversed with her upon sacred subjects. However, I said nothing of
it; and, waiting for what might happen, we went together to the temple.
The Thessalians had prepared everything ready for the sacrifice. We
approached the altar; the youth began the sacred rites; the priest
having uttered a prayer, and from her shrine the Pythoness pronounced
this oracle:[38]

Delphians, regard with reverential care,
Both him the goddess-born, and her the fair;
"_Grace_" is the sound which ushers in her name,
The syllable wherewith it ends, is "_Fame_. "

They both my fane shall leave, and oceans past,
In regions torrid shall arrive at last;
There shall the gods reward their pious vows,
And snowy chaplets bind their dusky brows. [39]

"When they who surrounded the shrine heard this oracle, they were
perplexed, and doubted what it should signify. Each interpreted it
differently, as his inclinations and understanding led him: none,
however, laid hold of its true meaning. Oracles indeed, and dreams, are
generally to be explained only by the event. And beside, the Delphians,
struck with the preparations which were making for the procession,
hastened to behold it, neglecting or deferring any farther scrutiny
into the oracular response. "


[Footnote 1:

"Te. . . .
. . . cohibent
Pulveris exigui. . . .
Munera. . . . "--Hor. I. Od. i. 28.
]

[Footnote 2:

"May one kind grave unite each hapless name,
And graft my love immortal on thy fame. "--Pope.