“oh, yet we trust that somehow good
will be the final goal of ill,
to pangs of nature, sins of will,
defects of doubt, and taints of blood.”
tennyson.
zopyrus bade themistocles and ladice farewell and turned his footsteps absent-mindedly to the house of pasicles. as it was still early in the afternoon he decided to walk to the acropolis and view again the spoils of the late war that were there on exhibition. thinking to avoid the busy street that passes to the front of the theatre of dionysus, zopyrus sought the shady but unfrequented side of the acropolis. he was arrested by the sound of conversation punctuated with light laughter. something familiar in one of the voices caused him to proceed cautiously.
seated upon a moss-grown ledge, the lofty wall of the acropolis covered with creepers forming an artistic background, sat corinna, daughter of pasicles. zopyrus gazed in mute astonishment, for this coquettish maiden seemed a new corinna and not the sister of the serious eumetis, or the betrothed of the artist, polygnotus. leaning against the ledge and gazing up at the girl with steadfast attention was a florid-faced young man, a stranger to zopyrus. the boldness of his demeanor displeased zopyrus greatly, and he decided to remain where he was and investigate the stranger’s intentions to corinna.
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covering corinna’s head was a handsome brocaded scarf. when the girl tossed back her head in laughter, the scarf slipped off and fell to the ground. the youth picked it up, shook off the dust and restored it to its owner. corinna joyfully received it and warmly thanked the young man who assured her he would delight in rendering her a real service some day.
zopyrus watched the two for some time and was about to conclude that it was perhaps a harmless flirtation when the man’s face suddenly lost its expression of gayety and took on a serious aspect, while his eyes gleamed with a lustful light.
“my invitation of a few minutes ago was no joke, corinna. will you go with me to naxos on the second night of the next full moon? you will be the queen of all there, you beautiful girl, with your crown of auburn hair.”
corinna drew away from the too ardent gestures.
“no, i can not do that. my parents, my sister, yes and polygnotus,” she added with a blush, “would be horrified.”
“do not let them know,” persisted the man. “have you not a sick friend who might be visited that night?”
the maid hesitated. “give me time to think it over. you say there will be other girls and that the ceremonies are beautiful?”
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“yes indeed,” he cried eagerly, laying a hand on hers, “there will be others, but none so lovely as you! as for the artist, he is too serious to enjoy life. with him, corinna, you would soon become an old woman, but i am different. i enjoy life and i can make you so happy that the festival of dionysus will be an event in your life that you will never forget.”
“well i will try to arrange it so i can go. where shall i meet you?”
“at the harbor of piræus, an hour after sunrise.”
zopyrus needed to hear no more. he hesitated between informing the girl’s parents of what he had heard, and on the other hand, saying nothing about it, but going to naxos himself, unknown to her, as her guardian. after debating the problem all the way home, he decided upon the latter plan as the better, in that it might spare pasicles and cleodice disappointment and mortification.
* * * * * * * *
on the day following the events of the preceding chapter, cimon was the recipient of a message the purport of which caused him to doubt the accuracy of his sight. the note was from ladice, the ward of themistocles, requesting him to meet her in the latter part of the afternoon at the mossy ledge on the east side of the acropolis. believing that it was all part of a dream from which he would awaken to miserable reality, cimon hurried to his trysting-place with fast beating heart. his eyesight might still be tricking him, but there standing by the ledge, her figure draped in a gown of palest blue that revealed while yet it concealed the graceful lines of her form, stood ladice, the one being who could raise him to the heights of olympus or plunge him to the depths of hades. the desire to take her in his arms was controlled so that he presented a calm and dignified exterior as he approached with the words: “i am here in answer to your summons, ladice, and i am at your service.”
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she raised to his, eyes that betrayed no emotion either of love or hatred, as she made reply: “i am here simply to say that if you will cease in your attempt to bring about the ostracism of themistocles and will try to undo the evil you have already committed, i will become your wife, otherwise my former decision concerning a marriage between us remains unchanged.”
cimon could no longer doubt the truth of his senses. this lovely maiden whom he adored was offering herself to him, body and soul, but in return for what? ah yes, if he would discontinue his efforts to banish the one man who stood between him and the pinnacle of fame and fortune which had but recently appeared above him as possible of access. he looked about him wildly, while for a moment his mind seemed a chaos. athens or ladice, a city or a maid, fame or marital bliss! he could feel the blood throbbing at his temples while it seemed an eternity before he could speak.
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around him lay the city that he loved, the city for which his father had fought and died, the home of his youth and the shelter of his maturing ambitions. before him stood a maiden in an attempt to rescue whom, a friend had forfeited his life. revenge toward her because he had failed to awaken in her heart the love for which he yearned, had caused him to first listen to the words of ephialtes. later had come the other ambition. with a cry that expressed a realization of freedom after long confinement, cimon stepped forward and took the impassive form of ladice in his arms.
