“now measuring forth with attic grace
(like figures round a sculptured vase)
the accent of some mythic song,
now hurled, a baccic group along.”
aubrey de vere.
the sun was scarcely an hour above the horizon when seven skiffs in festive regalia left the harbor of piræus southward bound. six of them were filled with youths and maidens bedecked with flowers. across the serene blue where scarcely a ripple was perceptible, the voices of the merry-makers floated, returning in echoes from the temples of marble, gleaming white on the naked promontories. the seventh boat was laden with goats intended as sacrificial offerings to the god dionysus at his temple on the island of naxos.
ephialtes and persephone, accompanied by agne, whom persephone has insisted upon taking as chaperone, were seated in the foremost vessel. persephone sat at the prow gazing out across the waters. her tunic and skirt were of pale blue trimmed with golden brocade of an intricate pattern. her brown-gold hair lay in waves over her temples which were encircled by a plain gold band from which hung a chaplet of sapphires, lying on her forehead.
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to ephialtes she had never appeared more beautiful. he thought of the evening that they had glided in this manner off salamis. he intended to ask her the same question, hoping she had long since forgotten the request she had made of him. he turned frequently with ill-concealed annoyance toward agne who sat at persephone’s left. ephialtes felt that now as in the mystery drama they were hades, ceres and persephone; that ceres strove to keep her daughter under her protection, and like hades he desired to snatch her from the maternal arms and keep her for his own. he did not know that agne’s advice had been favorable to his suit. had he been acquainted with this fact he might have been more tolerant of the older woman.
as the afternoon wore on, a light breeze stirred the waters into wavelets which gently lapped the shores of various islands of the cyclades which they passed; islands filled with sanctuaries and fanes of white marble which gleamed ghost-like in the gathering dusk. at length the moon loomed colossal beyond the island of paros, throwing up contours into misty and spectral relief, and softening all things with its touch of silver.
the festive boats passed paros, with its temple to poseidon, the occupants gazing ahead in eager anticipation till the rocky promontories of naxos arose darkly from the pathway of phosphorescence, then with one impulse from every throat burst the hymn to dionysus. nearer and nearer came the celebrants, loftier grew the cliffs of the island and louder echoed the pæan until at last the boats drew up one by one in a sheltered cove.
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dense foliage grew close to the steep pathway, the ascent of which was facilitated by steps cut in the soil or formed naturally by the exposed roots of trees. through the branches the newcomers could see the lights, twinkling as people passed to and fro—then the white columns and the pleasing proportions of the temple came into view.
persephone, ephialtes and agne were the first arrivals of the first boat, and made their way unhindered to the temple which they entered, mingling with the delirious throng whose acclamations rang through the great hall. it seemed to the arrivals from athens that every inhabitant of naxos was here celebrating.
a great gong silenced the sound of talking and laughter after all the athenians had arrived. a curtain at the end of the cella dropped revealing the image of the god of wine and revelry and immediately a hymn of praise was sung following which the sacrifice of a goat was consummated at the feet of the idol.
night was turned into day, wine flowed freely and many a youth’s spirits rose in proportion to the amount of wine he imbibed. to all this revelry persephone and agne were horrified witnesses. they had heard that dionysus was worshipped with much rejoicing, especially at his temple at naxos, but they had not had occasion to realize to what depths his worshippers sometimes fell. the two women looked furtively about seeking some way in which they might escape unobserved to the boats where for a few drachmas a couple of rowers would take them back to the mainland. they crouched near a pillar watching with increasing terror, wine-filled creatures who caroused around them. many a youth lounged upon a couch or the flower-strewn floor, his head in some fair one’s lap.
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ephialtes made his way with unsteady step to where the two women cowered. the greek blood which ran in his veins preserved his grace even in drunkenness. laughingly he held toward each a goblet of sparkling wine which they declined. in provocation he accidentally spilled the contents of the cup proffered to persephone. for an instant he stood dismayed watching the blood-like liquid as it flowed over the marble floor, then with frenzied determination, he forced between the lips of agne the wine contained in the other goblet, after which he stood swaying unsteadily with folded arms, a sinister smile curling his handsome lips. persephone determined to flee but she did not want to leave agne at the mercies of the drunken brutes around them.
“come, come, agne,” she whispered wildly, “you and i never dreamed what would be the nature of this celebration—oh, agne!”
the older woman made an attempt to answer and even to rise to her feet, but in vain! in another instant she sank in a pitiful heap, apparently lifeless. persephone’s temples throbbed with angry passion as she turned toward ephialtes.
“there was a narcotic in that wine! i am glad mine was spilled.”
“there was no drug in yours, persephone. i did not bring you here to put you to sleep. it is a living maiden i want!” cried the young greek passionately.
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he lurched toward her to take her in his arms, but she eluded his grasp and he found himself embracing the fluted pillar near which she had sat. a chance observer roared with laughter, and calling to his companions cried, “a king of revelers here, my friends. what say you to crowning him as bacchus? down with the god of stone and up with one of flesh and blood!”
so saying he and his male companions ran to the throne where the stone dionysus sat. with unnatural strength due to the freeness of their imbibing, they tore the god from his throne and forced the half reluctant ephialtes upon it. the wreath of grape leaves which had adorned the head of dionysus, was rudely snatched from it and placed upon the young man’s curls.
after ephialtes was ceremoniously enthroned, someone cried out, “where is ariadne? bacchus must have his ariadne! where did she go? bring her back!”
this appeal was answered by a rapturous shout, and several youths started in pursuit, returning shortly, dragging persephone with them.
“bacchus shows good taste,” cried one. “she is surely a rival of the maiden whom theseus deserted on these very shores!”
“up with her,” cried another, “she must occupy the throne with him. she shall be his queen.”
“that she shall!” cried ephialtes, his courage returning as he beheld the beautiful frightened face of the girl whom he loved.
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he stooped from the throne and lifted in his arms the form of the now unconscious girl. across her marble-white forehead strands of loosened hair streamed. the soft blue light from the circlet of sapphires which lay on her cold brow, contrasted strangely with the ruddy brilliance of a ruby clasp which adorned the hair of ephialtes above his passion-flushed countenance. he received a goblet of wine which had been proffered to him and put it to the lips of the fainting maiden. the draught brought her back to consciousness, and she gazed dazedly about, then suddenly the horror of her situation came upon her. with an agonized cry she rose to flee but was seized roughly by ephialtes who, impassioned, leaned over her, covering her face and throat with burning kisses.
