The king of Ethiopia had deceived Oroondates by a stratagem, and made
himself master of one of the objects of the war--the city of Philœ,
always ready to fall a prey to the first invader--and, by so doing, had
reduced him to great straits, and to a necessity of using sudden and
hurried efforts for its recovery.
Philœ is situated a little above the smaller cataracts of the Nile,
about twelve miles distant from Syene and Elephantis. The city was
formerly seized upon and inhabited by a band of Egyptian fugitives,
which made it debateable land between the governments of Egypt and
Ethiopia. The latter were for extending their dominions as far as the
cataracts, while the former claimed even the city of Philœ, pretending
that they had conquered it in war, because it had been occupied by
their exiles. It had been taken and retaken several times by both
nations; and was, just before the time I am speaking of, held by an
Egyptian and Persian garrison.
The king of Ethiopia dispatched an embassy to Oroondates, to demand the
restoration of the city and the emerald mines; and meeting, as has been
before observed,[1] with a refusal, he sent ambassadors a second time
towards Egypt; (they going in advance) he following a few days later,
with a numerous army, set on foot beforehand, but keeping all the while
their destination a profound secret.
When he concluded that his envoys had passed Philœ, and had lulled
the inhabitants and garrison there into negligence and security, by
persuading them, as they were instructed, that they were preparing to
proceed farther on a peaceful embassy; he on a sudden appeared before
Philœ, in a few days overwhelmed its surprised and unprepared defenders
(unable to resist his superior force and his artillery),[2] and took
possession of the city, which he kept, without injuring any who dwelt
in it.
In the midst of these troubles Achæmenes found Oroondates, and by his
sudden and unexpected appearance, helped to increase them.--"Has any
misfortune," hastily he inquired, "happened to Arsace, or to any other
of my family?" "A misfortune has happened," replied Achæmenes, "but I
would speak to you in private."
When every one had retired he entered upon his story. He related
the capture of Theagenes by Mithranes; how he was sent to him
(Oroondates), in order to be conveyed, if he thought proper, as a
present to the Great King, to whose court and table the youth would
be a worthy ornament. He proceeded to narrate his rescue from them
in their journey by the men of Bessa, the death of Mithranes in his
defence, and his own subsequent arrival at Memphis, introducing into
his narrative the affairs also of Thyamis.
At length he came to the ungoverned passion of Arsace--the transfer of
Theagenes into the palace--his too kind reception there--his attendance
and his cup-bearing--"Hitherto," he added, "I believe nothing has
actually taken place, for the youth is coy and unwilling; but if this
temptation be not taken away from before her eyes--if Theagenes be
not speedily removed from Memphis--there is the greatest reason to
apprehend that time, fear, and artifices of various kinds, will at
length conquer his disinclination. On these accounts I have taken an
opportunity to leave the city privately, and to come in all haste to
make this discovery to you, thinking it my duty no longer to conceal a
matter in which your honour and interest are so intimately concerned."
When he had raised the resentment of Oroondates by these tidings, and
filled him with indignation and a desire of revenge, he inflamed his
desires when he came to dwell upon the charms of Chariclea. He extolled
her to the skies, spoke of her beauty as divine; saying that her equal
never had, and never would be seen. "None of your concubines," said he,
"not those alone who are left at Memphis, but those even who follow
your person, are in any degree to be compared with her." In this manner
Achæmenes went on, raising the curiosity and wishes of Oroondates,
reckoning, that although the viceroy might indulge his fancy for
Chariclea for a time, yet he might afterwards easily be induced to give
her up to him in marriage, as a reward for his discoveries.
Urged on by anger and desire, the viceroy instantly summoned the eunuch
Bagoas, who was in great favour and authority, and commanded him to
proceed directly to Memphis with a troop of fifty horse, and without
fail or delay to bring Theagenes and Chariclea to his camp, wherever he
should find them.
He wrote at the same time a letter to Arsace to this effect:
"Oroondates to Arsace.
"Send to me Theagenes and Chariclea, the captive pair, who are slaves
to the Great King, and under orders to be transmitted to him. Send
them willingly, since, even if you be unwilling, they will be taken
from you; and then the report of Achæmenes will be believed."
To the chief eunuch at Memphis he wrote as follows:
"You shall hereafter give an account of your negligence as to my
household; at present deliver the Grecian captives to Bagoas, that
they may be brought to me, whether Arsace consent to it or not.
Deliver them, I say, or the bearer of these presents has orders to
bring you hither in chains, when you shall be flayed alive."
Bagoas took the letters, signed with the viceroy's signet, that they
might obtain full credit, and set out for Memphis to execute his
master's orders.
Oroondates now put himself in motion against the Ethiopians, commanding
Achæmenes to follow him, who was watched and guarded without his
knowing it, till it should appear whether the information he had given
were true. Meanwhile at Memphis, soon after the departure of Achæmenes,
Thyamis had been completely invested with the office of high priest,
and, as such, was become one of the chiefs of the city.
After he had celebrated, with proper piety, the funeral of Calasiris,
and observed, in mourning and retirement, the appointed number of
days--as soon as the sacred laws permitted him to hold communication
with those who were without the temple, his first care was to inquire
after Theagenes and Chariclea.
He learned, with some difficulty, that they had been removed to the
viceroy's palace; and immediately on receiving this intelligence he
hastened to Arsace, to make inquiries after them. He was solicitous
about them on various accounts; and particularly as his father had,
with his last breath, recommended them, in the strongest manner, to his
care and protection.
He returned thanks to the princess for her goodness in receiving and
entertaining the young Grecian strangers, during that space of time in
which it was not lawful for them to continue within the precincts of
the temple; and he now begged permission to resume the pledge entrusted
to his care.
"I wonder," replied Arsace, "that while you are praising my kindness
and humanity, you should at the same time intimate a doubt of their
continuance; and conceive any apprehension that I shall not still be
able and willing to entertain these foreigners, and assign to them such
honour as is due."
"You mistake me," replied Thyamis; "I know that they would live here in
much more splendour and affluence than they can with me, even did they
wish to remain under my roof: but having met with many misfortunes,
born of an illustrious family, and now wandering here, far from their
native home; the first wish of their hearts is, to recover their
friends, and to return to their country: my pledge to aid them was the
inheritance left me by my father; and I have, too, myself many motives
for friendship towards them."
"You act discreetly," replied Arsace, "in asking as a favour, rather
than demanding as a right: for a favour it would be in me to give up to
your friendship, those over whom I have a right as slaves."--"Slaves!"
cried Thyamis, in amazement, "what mean you?"--"I mean captives," said
she, "by the right of war."
Perceiving that she meant to insist upon their having been taken by
Mithranes, he thus resumed:--"Ο Arsace! it is not now war, but peace;
if that brings servitude, this restores liberty again; the one is
the result of a tyrant's will, the other is a truly royal gift.[3]
Besides, it is not the mere name but the disposition of those using
them, which really constitute either peace or war. By attending to
these considerations you will define better wherein equity consists:
there can be no doubt as to what honour and expediency demand in the
present case. How can it be honourable, or expedient, in you to persist
obstinately in the detention of these strangers, and to avow your
determination of so doing?"
Arsace could no longer contain herself; but acted, like most who are in
love, while they imagine their passion concealed they feel timidity;
when discovered they lose all shame; concealment makes them timid,
discovery audacious:[4] she stood self-accused; and she could not help
perceiving, or thinking she perceived, that Thyamis suspected her.
Throwing aside therefore all reserve, and all regard to the dignity
of the high priest, she broke out on a sudden--"Be assured that
you too shall answer for the share you have had in the attack upon
Mithranes; Oroondates will make a strict inquiry after, and punish with
severity, all those who were concerned in the slaughter of him and of
his troops. As to these foreigners, I will not give them up; they are
now my slaves; shortly they will be sent, according to our custom, to
my brother, the Great King: declaim as you please on what is decent,
proper, and expedient; those in power need not such things; they find
them all in the indulgence of their own sovereign will.[5] Retire,
then, from the palace at once and willingly, lest you be restrained
against your will."
Thyamis retired, invoking the gods and predicting to her no good event
from such behaviour, and considering whether he should disclose these
proceedings to the citizens, and call upon them for assistance.
"I value not your priesthood or your prophecy," said Arsace, "the only
prophecy which love regards, is the prospect of success." So saying,
she withdrew to her chamber, and sending for Cybele, consulted with
her upon the measures which she had next to pursue. She suspected the
flight of Achæmenes, and the motive of it; for Cybele, whenever she
was questioned on the subject, made various excuses for his absence,
and studiously endeavoured to persuade her that he was anywhere else,
rather than in the camp of Oroondates. These excuses, never wholly
credited, became each day less credible.
When Cybele therefore approached her, she thus began: "What shall I
do, nurse? How can I ease the torments which oppress me? My love is
as intense as ever; nay, I think it burns more violently: but this
youth, so far from being softened by kindness and favours, becomes
more stubborn, and intractable. Some time ago he could bring himself
to soothe me by fallacious promises, but now he seems openly and
manifestly averse to my desires: I fear he suspects, as I do, the cause
of Achæmenes' absence, and that this has made him more timorous. It is
_his_ disappearance, indeed, which gives me most uneasiness: I cannot
help thinking that he is gone to Oroondates, and perhaps will wholly or
in part succeed in persuading him of the truth of what he says. Could I
but see Oroondates, he would not withstand one tear or caress of mine;
a woman's well-known features exert a mighty magic over men.[6] It will
be a grievous thing, before I have enjoyed Theagenes, to be informed
against, nay, perhaps put to death, should his mind be poisoned before
I have the means of seeing and conversing with him: wherefore, my
dear Cybele, leave no stone unturned, strain every engine; you see
how pressing and critical the business now becomes; and you may well
believe that, if I myself am driven to despair, I shall not easily
spare others. You will be the first to rue the machinations of your
son: and how you can be ignorant of them I cannot conceive."
"The event," replied Cybele, "will prove the injustice of your
suspicions, both with regard to my son and me: but when you are
yourself so supine[7] in the prosecution of your love, why do you lay
the fault on others? You are flattering this youth like a slave, when
you should command him as a mistress. This indulgent mildness might
be proper at first, for fear of alarming his tender and inexperienced
mind; but when kindness is ineffectual, assume a tone of more severity;
let punishments, and even stripes, force from him that compliance which
favours have failed in doing. It is inborn in youth to despise those
who court; to yield to those who curb them: try this method and you
will find him give to force that which he refused to mildness."
"Perhaps you may be right," replied Arsace, "but how can I bear to see
that delicate body, which I doat on to distraction, torn with whips,
and suffering under tortures?"
"Again you are relapsing into your unseasonable tenderness," said
Cybele; "a few turns of the rack will bring about all you desire, and
for a little uneasiness which you may feel, you will soon obtain the
full accomplishment of your wishes. You may spare your eyes the pain
of seeing his sufferings--deliver him to the chief eunuch, Euphrates;
order him to correct him, for some fault which you may feign he has
committed--our ears are duller, you know, in admitting pity, than are
our eyes.[8] On the first symptoms of compliance, you may free him from
his restraint."
Arsace suffered herself to be persuaded; for love, rejected and
despairing, pities not even its object, and disappointment seeks
revenge. She sent for the chief eunuch, and gave him directions for
the purpose which had been suggested to her. He received them with a
savage joy, rankling with the envy natural to his race,[9] and from
what he saw and suspected, particularly angry with Theagenes. He put
him immediately in chains, cast him into a deep dungeon, and punished
him with hunger and stripes: keeping all the while a sullen silence;
answering none of the miserable youth's inquiries, who pretended,
(though he well knew the cause), to be ignorant of the reason why he
was thus harshly treated. He increased his sufferings every day, far
beyond what Arsace knew of or commanded, permitting no one but Cybele
to see him; for such, indeed, were his orders.
She visited him every day, under pretence of comforting, of bringing
him nourishment; and of pitying him, because of their former
acquaintance: in reality, to observe and report what effect his
punishment had upon him, and whether it had mollified his stubborn
heart; but his spirit was still unconquered, and seemed to acquire
fresh force from the duration of his trials.[10] His body, indeed, was
torn with tortures, but his soul was exalted by the consciousness of
having preserved its purity and honour. He gloried that while fortune
was thus persecuting him, she was conferring a boon upon his nobler
part--the soul. Rejoicing in this opportunity of showing his fidelity
to Chariclea, and hoping only she would one day become acquainted with
his sufferings, for her sake he was perpetually calling upon her name
and styling her his light! his life! his soul!
Cybele (who had urged Euphrates to increase the severity of his
treatment, contrary to the intentions of Arsace, whose object was by
moderate chastisement, to bend but not to kill him), saw it was all to
no purpose, and began to perceive the peril in which she stood. She
feared punishment from Oroondates, if Achæmenes should incautiously
discover too much of the share she had in the business; she feared lest
her mistress should lay violent hands upon herself, either stung by the
disappointment, or dreading the discovery of her amour. She determined,
therefore, to make a bold attempt, to avoid the danger which awaited
her, either by bringing about what Arsace desired, or to remove all
concerned in, and privy to the matter, by involving them in one common
destruction.
Going therefore to the princess--"We are losing our labour," she said:
"this stubborn youth, instead of being softened, grows every day more
self-willed; he has Chariclea continually in his mouth, and, by calling
upon her alone, consoles himself in his misfortunes. Let us then, as
a last experiment, cut the cable,[11] as the proverb says, and rid
ourselves of this impediment to our wishes: perhaps, when he shall hear
that she is no more, he may despair of obtaining her, and surrender
himself to your desires."
Arsace eagerly seized upon this idea: her rage and jealousy had but
too well prepared her for embracing the cruel expedient.--"You advise
well," she replied, "I will take care to have this wretch removed out
of our way."--"But who will you get to put your design into execution?"
said Cybele, "for though your power here is great, the laws forbid
you to put any one to death without the sentence of the judges. You
must undergo, therefore, some trouble and delay in framing a fictitious
charge against this maiden; and there will, besides, be some difficulty
in proving it. To save you the pain and hazard of this proceeding, I
am ready to dare and suffer anything. I will, if you think fit, do the
deed with poison, and by means of a medicated cup remove our adversary."
Arsace approved, and bid her execute her purpose. She lost no time, but
went to the unhappy Chariclea, whom she found in tears, and revolving
how she could escape from life of which she was now weary; suspecting
as she did the sufferings and imprisonment of Theagenes, though Cybele
had endeavoured to conceal them from her, and had invented various
excuses for his unusual absence.
The beldame thus addressed her:--"Why will you consume yourself in
continual, and now causeless, lamentations? Theagenes is free, and will
be with you here this evening. His mistress, angry at some fault which
he had committed in her service, ordered him into a slight confinement,
but has this day given directions for his release, in honour of a
feast which she is preparing to celebrate, and in compliance with
my entreaties. Arise, therefore, compose yourself, and refresh your
spirits with a slight refection."
"How shall I believe you?" replied the afflicted maiden, "you have
deceived me so often, that I know not how to credit what you say."
"I swear to you, by all the gods," said Cybele, "all your troubles
shall have an end this day; all your anxiety shall be removed, only
do not first kill yourself by abstaining obstinately, as you do, from
food. Taste, then, the repast which I have provided."
Chariclea was, with difficulty, persuaded, though she very naturally
entertained suspicions; the protestations, however, of the old woman,
and the pleasing hopes suggested prevailed at length; (for what the
mind desires it believes),[12] and they sat down to the repast.
Cybele motioned to Abra, the slave, who waited upon them, to give
the cup, after she had mixed the wine, first to Chariclea; she then
took another herself and drank. She had not swallowed all that was
presented to her, when she appeared seized with dizziness; and throwing
what remained in the cup upon the ground, and casting a fierce look
upon the attendant, her body was attacked with violent spasms and
convulsions. Chariclea, and all who were in the room, were struck with
horror, and attempted to raise and assist her; but the poison, potent
enough to destroy a young and vigorous person, wrought more quickly
than can be expressed upon her old and worn-out body. It seized the
vitals; she was consumed by inward fire; her limbs, which were at
first convulsed, became at length stiff and motionless, and a black
colour spread itself over her skin. But the malice of her soul was
more malignant even than the poison, and Cybele, even in death did not
give over her wicked arts; but by signs and broken accents, gave the
assistants to understand that she was poisoned by the contrivance of
Chariclea. No sooner did she expire than the innocent maiden was bound,
and carried before Arsace.
When the princess asked her if she had prepared the fatal draught, and
threatened her, if she would not confess the whole truth, that torments
should force it from her, her behaviour astonished all the beholders.
She did not cast down her eyes; she betrayed no fear; she even
smiled, and treated the affair with scorn, disregarding, in conscious
innocence, the incredible accusation, and rejoicing in the imputation
of the guilt, if through the agency of others, it should bring her to a
death, which Theagenes had already undergone. "If Theagenes be alive,"
said she, "I am totally guiltless of this crime; but if he has fallen a
victim to your most virtuous practices, it needs no tortures to extract
a confession from me: then am I the poisoner of your incomparable
nurse, treat me as if I were guilty, and by taking my life, gratify him
who loathed your unhallowed wishes."
Arsace was stung into fury by this: she ordered her to be smitten on
the face, and then said--"Take this wretch, bound as she is, and show
her her precious lover suffering, as he has well deserved; then load
every limb with fetters and deliver her to Euphrates; bid him confine
her in a dungeon till to-morrow, when she will receive from the Persian
magistrates the sentence of death."
While they were leading her away, the girl who had poured out the wine
at the fatal repast, who was an Ionian by nation, and the same who was
sent at first by Arsace to wait upon her Grecian guests--(whether out
of compassion for Chariclea, whom nobody could attend and not love, or
moved by a sudden impulse from heaven,) burst into tears, and cried
out--"Ο most unhappy and guiltless maiden!" The bystanders wondering at
this exclamation and pressing her to explain its meaning, she confessed
that it was she who had given the poison to Cybele, from whom she had
received it, in order that it might be administered to Chariclea. She
declared, that either overcome by trepidation at the enormity of the
action, or confused at the signs made by Cybele, to present the goblet
first to the young stranger, she had, in her hurry, changed the cups,
and given that containing the poison to the old woman.
She was immediately taken before Arsace, every one heartily wishing
that Chariclea might be found innocent; for beauty, and nobleness of
demeanour, can move compassion even in the minds of barbarians.
The slave repeated before her mistress all she had said before, but
it was of no avail towards clearing the innocent maiden, and served
only to involve herself in the same punishment; for Arsace, saying
she was an accomplice, commanded her to be bound, thrown into prison,
and reserved with the other for trial; and she sent directly to the
magistrates, who formed the Supreme Council; and to whom it belonged
to try criminals and to pronounce their sentence, ordering them to
assemble on the morrow.
At the appointed time, when the court was met, Arsace stated the case,
and accused Chariclea of the poisoning; lamenting, with many tears, the
loss she had sustained in a faithful and affectionate old servant, whom
no treasures could replace; calling the judges themselves to witness
the ingratitude with which she had been treated, in that, after she had
received and entertained the strangers with the greatest kindness and
humanity, she had met with such a base return: in short, her tone was
throughout bitter and malignant.
Chariclea made no defence, but confessed the crime, admitting that
she had administered the poison, and declaring, that had she not been
prevented, she would have given another potion to Arsace; whom she
attacked in good set terms; provoking, in short, by every means in her
power, the sentence of the judges.
This behaviour was the consequence of a plan concerted between her and
Theagenes the night before, in the prison, where they had agreed that
she should voluntarily meet the doom with which she was threatened,
and quit a wandering and wretched life, now become intolerable by the
implacable pursuits of adverse fortune. After which they took a last
melancholy embrace; and she bound about her body the jewels which had
been exposed with her, which she always carried about her, concealing
them under her garments to serve as attendants upon her obsequies; and
she now undauntedly avowed every crime which was laid to her charge,
and added others which her accusers had not thought of; so that the
judges, without any hesitation, were very near awarding her the most
cruel punishment, usual in such cases, among the Persians.[13] At last,
however, moved perhaps by her youth, her beauty, and noble air, they
condemned her to be burnt alive.
She was dragged directly out of the court, and led by the executioners
without the walls, the crier proclaiming that a prisoner was going
to suffer for the crime of poisoning; and a vast multitude flocking
together, and following her, poured out of the city.
Among the spectators upon the walls Arsace had the cruelty to present
herself, that she might satiate her revenge, and obtain a savage
consolation for her disappointment, in viewing the sufferings of her
to whom she imputed it. The ministers of justice now made ready and
lighted an immense pile; and were preparing to place the innocent
victim upon it, when she begged a delay of a few moments, promising
that she would herself voluntarily ascend it--and now turning towards
the rising sun, and lifting up her eyes and hands to heaven, she
exclaimed--"Ο sun! Ο earth! Ο celestial and infernal deities who view
and punish the actions of the wicked! I call upon you to witness
how innocent I am of the crime of which I am accused. Receive me
propitiously, who am now preparing to undergo a voluntary death,
unable to support any longer the cruel and unrelenting attacks of
adverse fortune;--but may your speedy vengeance overtake that worker
of evil, the accursed and adulterous Arsace; the disappointment of
whose profligate designs upon Theagenes has urged her thus to wreak
her fury upon me." This appeal, and these protestations, caused a
murmur in the assembly. Some said the matter ought to undergo a
further examination--some wished to hinder, others advanced to prevent
her mounting the pile: but she put them all aside, and ascended it
intrepidly.
She placed herself in the midst of it, and remained for a considerable
time unhurt, the flames playing harmlessly around her, rather
than approaching her; not injuring her in the least--but receding
whithersoever she turned herself; so that their only effect seemed to
be to give light and splendour to her charms; as she lay like a bride
upon a fiery nuptial couch.
She shifted herself from one side of the pile to another, marvelling as
much as any one else, at what happened, and seeking for destruction,
but still without effect; for the fire ever retreated, and seemed
to shun her approach. The executioners on their part were not idle,
but threw on more fuel (Arsace by signs inciting them), dry wood,
and reeds, and every thing that was likely to raise and feed the
flame; yet all was to no purpose; and now a murmur growing into a
tumult, began to run through the assembly: they cried out--"This is
a divine interposition!--the maiden is unjustly accused!--she is
surely innocent!"--and advancing towards the pile, they drove away the
ministers of justice, Thyamis, whom the uproar had roused from his
retirement, now appearing at their head, and calling on the people
for assistance. They were eager to deliver Chariclea, but durst not
approach too near. They earnestly desired her, therefore, to come down
herself from the pile; for there could be no danger in passing through
the flames, to one who appeared even to be untouched by them. Chariclea
seeing and hearing this, and believing too that some divinity was
really interposing to preserve her, deemed that she ought not to appear
ungrateful, or reject the mercy, and leapt lightly from the pile: at
which sight the whole city raised a sudden shout of wonder, joy, and
thanksgiving to the gods.
Arsace, too, beheld this prodigy with astonishment, but with very
different sensations. She could not contain her rage. She left the
ramparts, hurried through a postern gate, attended by her guards and
the Persian nobles, and herself laid violent hands on Chariclea.
Casting a furious glance at the people--"Are ye not ashamed," she
cried, "to assist in withdrawing from punishment a wretched creature
detected in the very fact of poisoning, and confessing it? Do ye not
consider, that while shewing a blameable compassion to this wicked
woman, ye are putting yourselves in opposition to the laws of the
Persians--to the judges, the peers, the viceroys, and to the Great
King himself. The fact of her not burning has perhaps moved you, and
ye attribute it to the interposition of the gods, not considering that
this yet more fully proves her guilt. Such is her knowledge of charms,
and witchcraft, that she is enabled to resist even the force of fire.
Come all of you to-morrow to the examination which shall be held in
public, and you shall not only hear her confess her crimes herself,
but shall find her convicted also by her accomplices whom I have in
custody."
She then commanded Chariclea to be led away, still keeping her hold
upon her neck, and ordering her guards to disperse the crowd, who were
with difficulty prevented from interfering for her rescue; but who at
length gave way, partly suspecting her to be a sorceress, and partly
through awe of the person, and dreading the power, of Arsace.
Chariclea then was again committed to the custody of Euphrates; again
thrown into prison, and reserved for a second trial, and a second
sentence; rejoicing however amidst her troubles, that she should once
more have an opportunity of seeing, and conversing with, Theagenes;
for Arsace, out of a refinement of cruelty, had ordered them to be
confined in one dungeon, that each might be a spectator of the other's
sufferings; for she well knew that a tender heart is much more hurt by
the pains of those it loves than by its own. In this instance, however,
her savage mind was disappointed; and what she meant as a punishment
turned out a consolation. They took a melancholy pleasure in suffering
for each other, and in suffering equally. Had a greater share of
torments been inflicted upon either, the other would have been jealous,
and thought his love defrauded--moreover they were now together--they
could converse with, comfort, and encourage one another to bear their
calamities with fortitude, and to resist courageously every trial that
might endanger their purity or fidelity. They passed the greatest part
of the night in speaking on such topics, as might indeed be expected
from a pair, whose whole delight was in their mutual conversation, and
who despaired of ever passing another night together again.
At length they came to the miraculous event which happened at the pyre.
Theagenes attributed it to the benevolence of the gods, who were angry
at the injustice of Arsace, and who pitied Chariclea's innocence and
piety. She herself was in doubt whether to thank or complain of heaven.
The manifest interposition of the gods at the place of execution, was a
mark of their kindness and protection; but to be preserved from death,
only to be plunged afresh in new and unceasing troubles, was rather a
sign of their having incurred, and still continuing under, the divine
displeasure: unless indeed, it were some wonder-working method of the
deity delighting to plunge them into the deepest misery, in order to
show its power of saving them when their condition appeared desperate.
She was going on in a complaining style, when Theagenes stopped her,
bidding her speak more reverently, nor to scrutinize the conduct of
the Deity. Suddenly she exclaimed,--"May the gods be propitious to us,
for I just now call to mind a dream, (or rather waking vision), which
I had last night, and which the unexpected sight of you again, and
the various matters which we have since talked of, had driven from my
memory. The vision was this:--The beatified Calasiris appeared to me
(whether in reality or in idea, I am not certain) and repeated these
lines, for the words fell into verse;
'Wearing Pantarbè, fear not flames, fair maid,
Fate, to whom nought is hard, shall bring thee aid.'"[14]
Theagenes on his part appeared suddenly like one under supernatural
impulse, for springing forwards, as far as his fetters would permit
him, he exclaimed---"The gods be gracious to us! recollection makes me
also a poet; I had, myself, a like vision. Calasiris, or some deity in
his shape, appeared to me, and addressed me in these lines:
'From Arsace, the morrow sees thee free--
To Ethiopia with the virgin flee.'[15]
"Now, I readily comprehend the meaning of the oracle which is given to
me. By Ethiopia, is signified the dark abode of those who dwell under
the earth--by the virgin, Proserpine--by freedom, my release from this
wretched body: but I do not so readily understand that which relates to
you--there appears to be a contradiction in it. The name of Pantarbè
means 'all fear,' and yet from it you are promised assistance."
"My dearest Theagenes," replied Chariclea, "you have been so accustomed
to misfortunes that you use yourself to interpret every thing in
its worst sense--the mind of man so readily takes a colour from
its circumstances. The oracles appear to me to admit of much more
favourable meaning. The virgin, instead of Proserpine, means perhaps
me, with whom you are to escape to Ethiopia, my country, after you
shall have been delivered from the prisons of Arsace. How all this is
to be brought about is not very apparent, but it is not incredible.
Every thing is possible to the gods; and they who have favoured us with
this prediction, will watch over its accomplishment. The prophecy which
relates to me, so far from being obscure, is, as you see, fulfilled;
and I am, contrary to all expectation, alive, and unhurt, at least by
the flames: I was hitherto ignorant that I carried the cause of my
preservation about me, but now I fancy that I understand the words.
I took particular care at the time of my trial, as indeed I had been
wont to do before, to have the jewels which were exposed with me, bound
closely about my body, concealing them under my garments--in case I
should escape, they would help to support my life--if I were doomed to
suffer, they would adorn my funeral. Among these, which consist of
costly necklaces, and Indian and Ethiopian jewels, there is a ring,
given by my father to my mother when they were betrothed: within the
bezil is a stone called Pantarbè; it is inscribed with sacred letters,
and endowed with mystic virtues, from whence, as I conjecture, it
obtains the power to preserve those who wear it from the force of fire.
This, therefore, most probably, and the good pleasure of the gods, is
what has preserved me. I remember too, that our friend, Calasiris, (now
in happiness,) told me that something of this virtue was hinted at in
the writing inscribed on the fillet which was exposed with me, and
which I always wear round my waist."
"What you say," replied Theagenes, "may perhaps be true--what has
happened seems to confirm your conjecture: but what Pantarbè will
deliver us from the dangers which threaten us to-morrow? This stone,
though it preserves from fire, does not confer immortality, and the
wicked Arsace will find out some other, and new kind of punishment. How
do I wish that she would involve us both in the same sentence, that one
and the same hour might end our troubles! I should not esteem such a
departure death, but repose and ease to our manifold miseries."
"Be not so cast down," said Chariclea, "the oracle promises us another
Pantarbè. Let us trust in the gods, so will our deliverance be more
grateful; or, if we be doomed to die, piety will soften and sanctify
our sufferings."
In such conversations were the unfortunate lovers employed; each more
solicitous for the fate which awaited the other, than for his own. They
vowed to be faithful, and love one another till death; and beguiled
the melancholy moments in these, which they thought would be their
last, protestations. Meanwhile Bagoas and his troop of horse arrived
at Memphis, in the middle of the night, while every one was buried in
sleep. And when they had, without tumult, roused the guards, and made
known who they were, they were admitted and entered into the court of
the Viceroy's palace. Bagoas caused his men to surround the building,
that he might be prepared, in case of meeting with any resistance; and
he himself gaining admission by a crazy postern gate, and commanding
silence to the person there, hastened, with ease, from his knowledge
of the place, to the apartments of Euphrates, the moon affording a
little light. Euphrates was in bed; but being roused by the noise made
at his door, started up, and called out "Who is there?" "It is I," said
Bagoas; "make no noise, but order a light to be brought."--The other
ordered a boy, who slept in his chamber, to bring a light, but to take
care not to awaken any one else.
When the light came, and the boy had retired, Euphrates began--"What
new calamity does this sudden and unexpected appearance of yours
announce?"--"There is no need," returned the other, "of many words;
take and read this letter. Recognise the seal of Oroondates, and obey
his commands, this very night, with secrecy and expedition: Make use of
the soldiers whom I have brought with me, that you may give the less
alarm. I leave you to judge for yourself whether you will or will not
first disclose the business to Arsace."
Euphrates took the letters, and perused them both. "This," says he,
"will be a fresh blow to my mistress, and she needs no additional
affliction; for she was yesterday seized with a sudden disorder, as if
by a stroke from heaven, and she now lies in a burning fever, and is in
the utmost danger of her life. As for these letters, I would not show
them to her at present, even were she in good health, for I know that
she would sooner die herself, and involve us in the same destruction,
than part with these young people. You are arrived just in time to
save them. Come then forthwith--receive those whom you seek--take them
away--use them kindly yourself, and endeavour to procure for them
the same treatment from others. Their situation may well excite your
compassion; for I have been obliged, much against my will, but at
the inexorable command of Arsace, to inflict upon them a variety of
punishments and tortures. They seem, besides, to be well born, and, to
judge from their habitual conduct, possessed of discretion and good
sense." And so saying, he rose and conducted Bagoas to the prison, who,
as soon as he saw the young captives, pale and exhausted as they were
with their sufferings, he could not help being wonderfully struck with
their form and beauty. They, concluding that this unseasonable visit
announced their fate, and that Bagoas was come to lead one of them, at
least, to trial and execution, were at first rather agitated; but soon
recovering an air of cheerfulness, they appeared pleased rather than
grieved.
Euphrates advanced; and as he was preparing to loose their fetters from
the wooden block, Theagenes exclaimed, "Accursed Arsace! She hopes to
conceal her abominable actions in darkness and obscurity. But let her
know that the eye of justice is most piercing; that it will bring to
light her most secret crimes and display her wickedness in the face of
the sun. But do you, ministers of her cruelty, execute her commands.
Grant us, however, one last and only favour: whether we be doomed to
die by fire, by water, or by the sword, let us suffer together, and end
our wretched being by one and the same kind of death." Chariclea joined
in this supplication. The eunuchs, who understood what they said, shed
tears, and brought them out in chains as they were.
When they had left the palace, Euphrates remained where he was; and
Bagoas, ordering his followers to take off all their fetters, except
such as were just necessary to prevent an escape, placed them on
horseback, surrounded with his troop, and took, with all expedition,
the road to Thebes.
They rode all that night, and the next day till nine o'clock, when,
being spent with want of sleep, and exposed to the summer rays of
an Egyptian sun, Chariclea particularly, unused to this kind of
travelling, being nearly exhausted with fatigue, they resolved,
at last, to make a halt, to breathe their horses, and to refresh
themselves. They chose for this purpose an elevated and projecting
place on the banks of the Nile, where the river, turning from its
direct course, and winding into a semicircle, forms a spot something
resembling the gulf of Epirus, which, being kept continually moist,
abounded in grass and herbage proper for their beasts. Here, too,
were peach trees, sycamores, and others which love to grow in the
neighbourhood of the Nile, these over-arched and afforded them a
pleasant shade. Bagoas availed himself of their shelter instead of
tents, and here he took some refreshment, inviting Theagenes and
Chariclea to partake of his repast. They refused at first; he pressed
them; and when they replied that it was needless for those who were
going to execution to trouble themselves about nourishment, he told
them they were much mistaken if they thought their lives in any danger;
for he was not leading them to death, but to the viceroy Oroondates.
The meridian heat of the sun had now passed; it was no longer vertical,
but its beams struck upon them laterally. Bagoas thereupon prepared
to pursue his march, when a courier arrived with great precipitation,
himself out of breath, and his horse dropping with sweat, and ready to
sink under him with fatigue. As soon as he had spoken a word to Bagoas
in private, he remained in silence. The eunuch fixing for some time his
eyes on the ground, with a serious and reflecting air, at last said,
"Rejoice, strangers! You are revenged of your enemy. Arsace is no more.
As soon as she heard that you were gone away with me, she strangled
herself, and has prevented an inflicted, by a voluntary, death; for
her crimes have been such, that she had no hope of escaping the just
resentment of Oroondates and the sentence of the Great King, and must
either have lost her life, or have spent the remainder of it in infamy
and confinement. Be of good cheer, then; fear nothing; I know your
innocence, and your persecutor is removed."
Bagoas said this as he stood near them, with difficulty expressing
himself in the Greek tongue, and using many uncouth words; but he spoke
with sincerity of heart, for he rejoiced at the death of Arsace, whose
dissolute manners and tyrannical disposition he abominated; and he
wished to comfort and encourage the young people; he thought moreover
that he should recommend himself to Oroondates by a very acceptable
service, by preserving for him this young man, who would throw into
the shade all the rest of his attendants; and by presenting him with a
maiden worthy in every respect to supply the place of Arsace.
Theagenes and Chariclea, too, rejoiced at this intelligence. They
adored the justice of the gods; and felt that, after this sudden and
deserved end of their enemy, they should not feel their misfortunes,
however severe--so welcome is death to some if only it be shared in
by their foes. Evening now approached. A refreshing breeze sprang up,
and invited them to continue their journey. They travelled all that
night, and part of the next morning, making all possible expedition to
Thebes, in hopes of finding Oroondates there. In this hope, however,
Bagoas was disappointed. Before he arrived at that city, a courier met
him, and informed him that Oroondates had set out for Syene, leaving
the strictest orders to his officers to collect every man, even from
the garrisons, and march them after him to that place; for the greatest
apprehensions were entertained that the town would be taken before the
satrap could arrive to its succour, the Ethiopian army having appeared
at its gates before any intelligence was received that it was in
motion. Bagoas, therefore, turned out of the road to Thebes, and took
that of Syene.
When he came near the place, he fell in with a troop of Ethiopians, who
had been sent out to scour the country, and to ascertain the safety
of the roads for the march of their own army. Overtaken by night, and
ignorant of the ground, they had concealed themselves behind some
bushes (in obedience to the orders given them), watching for the
passing by of any prey which they might seize, and also providing for
their own security. At break of day they perceived the approach of
Bagoas and his company. They despised the smallness of their number,
but let them all pass by, in order to assure themselves that there
was no greater force behind; and then suddenly rushing from their
concealment in the marsh, they pursued and attacked them with a great
shout.
Bagoas and his men, astonished at the sudden noise and assault, seeing
from their colour that they were Ethiopians, and from their number
(which amounted to near a thousand light-armed men), that resistance
was vain, did not await their approach, but took to flight. They
retreated at first with some degree of order, to avoid the appearance
of a complete rout. The enemy detached after them a band of two hundred
Troglodites. The Troglodites are a pastoral nation, on the borders of
Arabia, of great natural agility, which they increase by exercise.[16]
They are unused to heavy armour, but, with slings and missile weapons,
endeavour to make an impression upon the enemy at a distance, from
whom, if they find them superior, they immediately retreat. The enemy
do not take the trouble to pursue them, knowing them to be swift as
the wind, and given to hide themselves in caverns, which they make
their habitations. They, though on foot, soon overtook Bagoas and his
flying squadron, and making use of their slings, wounded some of them
from afar, yet, on their facing about, did not await their assault, but
retreated headlong to their own comrades.
The Persians seeing this, and perceiving the smallness of their number,
ventured to attack them; and having easily repulsed them for a space,
turned again, and putting spurs to their horses, continued their flight
with slackened rein and with the utmost speed. Some, deserting the main
body, and hurrying to a bend in the Nile, hid themselves under its
banks. The horse of Bagoas fell with him; one of his legs was fractured
with the fall, and being unable to move, he was taken prisoner.
Theagenes and Chariclea, too, were made captives. They thought it
dishonourable to desert Bagoas, who had shown them much kindness, and
from whom they hoped more in future. They kept, therefore, by his side,
dismounting from their horses, and voluntarily offered themselves to
the enemy; Theagenes saying to Chariclea, "This explains my dream:
these are the Ethiopians into whose lands we are fated to go: let us
give ourselves up into their hands, and await an uncertain fortune with
them, rather than expose ourselves to manifest danger with Oroondates."
Chariclea thought she could now perceive herself to be led on by the
hand of destiny: a secret hope of better fortune began to insinuate
itself into her bosom, and she could not help considering those who
attacked them as friends rather than enemies; but not venturing
to disclose her presages to Theagenes, she contented herself with
expressing her consent to his advice.
When the Ethiopians approached, and observed Bagoas, from his features,
to be a eunuch, and incapable of resistance, and the others unarmed
and in chains, but of extraordinary grace and beauty, they inquired
who they were. They made use of an Egyptian interpreter, whom they
carried with them, who understood besides a little Persian, concluding
that the prisoners spoke one or other of these tongues; for experience
had taught them that a body detached as spies and scouts ought always
to have some one with them who naturally speaks or understands the
language of the country which they are sent to reconnoitre.
Theagenes, who, from his long residence in the land, had acquired
something of the Egyptian tongue, replied, that the eunuch was one
of the chief officers of the Persian viceroy; that he himself and
Chariclea were Grecians by birth, taken prisoners, first by the
Persians, and now voluntary captives to the Ethiopians, as they hoped,
under better auspices.
The enemy determined to spare their lives, and to deliver them, as
the first fruits of victory, to their sovereign, looking upon them
as amongst the most valuable possessions of the satrap; eunuchs are
reckoned as the eyes and ears of a Persian court, having neither
children nor connexions to turn aside their fidelity, they are wholly
attached to the person and service of their master;[17] their young
prisoners, too, appeared to them to be the most beautiful persons they
had ever seen, and promised to be conspicuous ornaments to the royal
household. They mounted them, therefore, upon horses, and carried them
along with them, though the accident of Bagoas, and the fetters of the
others, prevented their travelling very fast.
Here, then, was a kind of prologue to another drama:--just before they
were prisoners in a foreign land, and on the verge of being brought out
to a public and ignominious execution; now they were being carried, or
rather escorted, though in captive guise, by those destined, ere long,
to be their subjects. Such was their present situation.
[Footnote 1: See Book II. and Book III.]
[Footnote 2: μηχαναῖς τειχoμάχοις.]
[Footnote 3: ὧν ἐις τὴν σύλληψιν ἐμὲ κληρονόμον ὁ πατὴρ κατελέλοιπεν.]
[Footnote 4:
.... "Nihil est audacius illis
Deprensis; iram atque animos a crimine sumunt."
Juv. VI. 284.
]
[Footnote 5:
"Hoc volo, sic jubeo, stat pro ratione voluntas."
Juv. VI. 223.
]
[Footnote 6:
"ὀφθαλμὸς φιλίας πρόξενος· καὶ τὸ σύνηθες τῆς κοινωνίας."
Achilles Tatius, Β. i.
]
[Footnote 7: oὕτως ὑπτίως προσιοῦσα.]
[Footnote 8:
"Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem
Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quæ
Ipse sibi tradit spectator."---Hor. A. P. 180.
]
[Footnote 9:
"Cuncta ferit dum cuncta timet; desævit in omnes,
Ut se posse putent; nec bellua tetrior ulla
Quam servi rabies in libera terga furentes
Agnoscit gemitus, et pœnæ parcere nescit
Quam subiit, dominique memor quem verberat odit."
Claudian in Eutrop. i. 108.
]
[Footnote 10:
"Justum et tenacem propositi virum.
. . . . . .
Non vultus instantis tyranni
Mente quatit solida."--Hor. III. Od. iii. 1.
]
[Footnote 11: ῥίψωμίν ἄγκυραν.]
[Footnote 12: "Thy wish was father, Harry, to that
thought."--Shakespeare.]
[Footnote 13: Plutarch thus describes the punishment of poisoners among
the Persians.--"Poisoners are put to death, by the Persian laws, in the
following manner. The head of the criminal is laid upon a flat stone,
the executioner with another stone beats and pounds his head, until
both head and face are entirely crushed."]
[Footnote 14:
Παντάρζην φορέουσα πυρὸς μὴ τάρζει ἐρώην
'Ρηῑδιώς μόιραις καὶ τ'αδόκητα πέλει.
]
[Footnote 15:
Αἰθιόπον εἰς γᾶιαν ἀφίξεαι ἄμμιγα κόυρη
Δεσμών Άρτακέων αὔριον ἐκπροφυγών.
]
[Footnote 16: Herodotus gives the same account of the swiftness of this
race, and mentions their subsisting upon snakes, lizards, and other
reptiles, adding, that their language resembles the shrill cry of a
bat; they are the modern Tibboos.--See Herod. iv. 183, Blakesley's
Edit.]
[Footnote 17: See Xen. Cyrop. vii. 5. 60.]