THE WONDERS OF THE CITY.
At the palace-gate was a lightly built carriage with two beautiful
horses, for Thoth informed his companion he wished to show her the city
itself before he made her further acquainted with the inhabitants. By
a winding road shaded with trees he conducted her to the summit of a
little hill, and bade her look round.
She saw at the first glance that the city was built in a curious rocky
oasis in the midst of an illimitable desert. At her feet were buildings
and gardens forming a large city. The buildings were widely scattered,
and the whole place was about twenty leagues in circumference. It was
surrounded by lofty walls, and beyond the walls, as far as the eye
could reach, there was nothing but a burning flat of barren sand.
The green spot on which the city stood, with the exception of the
little hill, appeared to Daphne hollowed out like a cup; and it seemed
as if the ocean of sand might at any time engulf it. There were no
gates, and the country seemed completely isolated.
A sense of forlornness seized on Daphne, and in spite of her courage
she wept as she thought of Athens.
Her guide at once divined her thoughts, and assured her that she had
only to command him, and once more to be bold enough to mount with him
into the air, and in a few hours she would find herself in Greece.
Thus he comforted her, and her heart warmed to him for his kindness.
They then drove through the city, and Daphne was amazed at the
magnificence and beauty of the buildings and the luxuriance of the
gardens. She saw very few people, and those were clearly of an inferior
rank. They were of an ordinary stature and olive-tinted complexion.
They stood still and saluted the masks with the most profound respect;
and Daphne observed that the jewelled staff carried by Thoth especially
commanded their reverence.
All the buildings, roads, and gardens seemed in the most admirable
state of preservation and good order. The city was evidently inhabited
by people in the height of prosperity; and the thing which most
surprised Daphne was the apparent sparseness of the population. Her
curiosity was aroused, and she asked Thoth if this place had also been
ravaged by the plague; but he replied that no city in the world was so
healthy, and that never in the memory of man had it been visited by a
pestilence.
The answer reminded Daphne of the speech of Thoth to the people of
Athens, in which he told them that their indifference to the plague
arose from familiarity.
The reminiscence of the untruth was vivid and unpleasant, and she said
to Thoth: “Which word of thine am I to believe? This agrees not with
thy saying in Athens.”
He simply replied, “That was before my promise; but in reality both
statements are true. We have had particular cases of diseases like the
plague, but never throughout the whole population. Our wise men are
great physicians—in time thou shalt know all.”
“But how many people are there?”
“The total number of men, women, and children does not exceed twenty
thousand.”
“And is this the only city in thy dominion?”
“Yes.”
“How, then, canst thou boast of conquering the world?—and thou didst
say so. Thine oath was soon forgotten.”
“We have long since learned that safety and power are not in
multitudes, but in wisdom and skill. Our archers, few as they are, are
equal almost to Apollo. Thou hast seen that we can ride through the
air, and thou shalt learn that we can perform other wonders unknown
to the rest of the world. But it is best to begin with the simplest
things. I will show thee our lowest class of workers.”
They drove to a distant part of the city, and as they passed along, the
signs of life became much more abundant. The dwellings, though still
large, were smaller and much closer together. The people also were
different in appearance, and the farther they advanced the more they
increased in stature.
At length Daphne understood that the great mass of the people must be
giants, some of them being twice the stature of ordinary men. Their
faces, however, wore an expression of pleased contentment, and they
were most obsequious in their salutations. They were lightly clad, and
the symmetry of their proportion, and the massive strength of their
limbs, were a pleasure to the young Greek, accustomed to revere the
great statues of the Athenian sculptors. She thought to herself how
easily a small band of such warriors would break to pieces any army;
but Thoth said to her, “These are the most peaceful and quiet people
in the whole world, and the most admirable workers when strength is
needed. Which of your Greeks could contend with the weakest of these
men?”
He then ordered one of the men to cast a huge piece of rock to a
distance, which he did with the most surprising ease.
The women in this quarter were nearly as huge as the men, and, like
them, admirably shaped, and, in spite of their great stature, very
graceful in their movements. Daphne noticed, however, both here as
through the rest of the city, that the women always retired to their
dwellings on the appearance of the masks.
But apparently to please Daphne, Thoth ordered some of the giantesses
to approach, and they did so with every sign of being honoured and
gratified.
Daphne was delighted to discover that, with the giants as with the
pigmies, the source of Thoth’s power was not tyranny. Evidently he was
regarded as a superior being, but as yet she could not imagine in what
the superiority consisted. It seemed as if the whole city was ruled by
perfect obedience, resting on perfect love.
When she returned to her apartments her little servants expressed the
most lively satisfaction, and Thoth left her in their care, promising,
if she wished, to show her more of the city and its people on the
following day.