When we had fasted now for three days and offered sacrifice upon each
of those days, we were all resolved to sit up the third night and
spend it in pastime and dancing. The moon shone very bright upon the
water, and the sea was exceeding calm and still; this we saw, for we
sported ourselves upon the shore. Being thus taken up, all of a sudden
we espied a wonderful spectacle off at sea, making with incredible
expedition to the adjoining promontory. The violence of the motion made
the sea foam again, and the noise was so loud, that the whole company
forsook their sport and ran together toward the place, admiring what
the matter should be. Before we could make a full discovery of the
whole, the motion was so rapid, we perceived divers dolphins, some
swimming in a ring or circle, others hastening amain to that part of
the shore which was most smooth, and others following after and (as it
were) bringing up the rear. In the middle there was a certain heap
which we could perceive above the water; but we could not distinctly
apprehend what it was, till drawing near the shore we saw all the
dolphins flocking together, and having made near the land they safely
surrendered their charge, and left out of danger a man breathing and
shaking himself. They returned to the promontory, and there seemed
to rejoice more than before for this their fortunate undertaking.
Divers in the company were affrighted and ran away; myself and a few
more took courage, and went on to see and satisfy ourselves what this
unusual matter might be; there we found and instantly knew our old
acquaintance Arion the musician, who told us his name. He wore that
very garment he used when he strove for mastery. We brought him into
our tent and found he had received no damage in his passage, save only
a little lassitude by the violence of the motion. He told us the whole
story of his adventure,—a story incredible to all but such as saw
it with their eyes. He told us how, when he had determined to leave
Italy, being hastened away by Periander’s letters, he went aboard a
Corinthian merchantman then in port and ready to sail; being off at
sea with the winds favorable, he observed the seamen bent to ruin him,
and the master of the vessel told him as much, and that they purposed
to execute their design upon him that very night. In this distress,
the poor man (as if inspired by his good Genius) girds about him his
heretofore victorious, now his funeral cloak, with a brave resolution
to compose and sing his own epitaph, as the swans when they apprehend
the approaches of death are reported to do. Being thus habited, he
told the seamen he was minded to commit the protection of himself and
his fellow-passengers to the providence of the Gods in a Pythian song;
then standing upon the poop near the side of the vessel, and having
invoked the help and assistance of all the sea Gods, he strikes up
briskly and sings to his harp. Before he had half finished his carol,
the sun set, and he could discern Peloponnesus before him. The seamen
thought it tedious to tarry for the night, wherefore they resolved to
murder him immediately, to which purpose they unsheathed their swords.
Seeing this, and beholding the master standing with his face covered,
he leaped into the sea as far as he could; but before his body sunk he
found himself supported by dolphins. At first he was surprised with
care and trouble; but by and by, finding himself marching forward
with much ease and security, and observing a whole shoal of dolphins
flocking about him and joyfully contending which should appear most
forward and serviceable in his preservation, and discerning the vessel
at a considerable distance behind, he apprehended the nimbleness of
his porters; then, and not till then, his fears forsook him, and he
professed he was neither so fearful of death nor desirous of life as
he was full of ambitious desire to reach the haven of safety, that
he might show to all men that he stood in the grace and favor of the
Gods, and that he might himself believe more firmly than ever before
in their being and goodness. In his passage, as he lifted up his eyes
toward heaven, and beheld the stars glittering and twinkling and the
moon full and glorious, and the sea calm all about her as she seemed
to rise out of it, and yielding him (as it were) a beaten track; he
declared, he thought God’s justice had more eyes than one, and that
with these many eyes the Gods beheld what was acted here below both by
sea and land. With such contemplations he performed his voyage less
anxiously, which much abated the tediousness thereof and was a comfort
and refreshment to him in his solitude and danger. At last, arriving
near the promontory which was both steep and high, and fearing danger
in a straight course and direct line, they unanimously veered about,
and making to shore with a little compass for security, they delivered
Arion to us in safety, so that he plainly perceived and with thanks
acknowledged a Providence.
When Arion had finished this narrative of his escape, I asked him
(quoth Gorgias) whither the ship was bound; he told me for Corinth,
but it would not be there very suddenly, for when he leaped out of the
ship and was carried (as he conceived) about five hundred furlongs, he
perceived a calm, which must needs much retard their arrival who were
aboard. Gorgias added that, having learned the names of the pilot and
master and the colors of the ship, he immediately despatched out ships
and soldiers to examine all the ports, all this while keeping Arion
concealed, lest the criminals should upon notice of his deliverance
escape the pursuit of justice. This action happened very luckily, as if
it were directed by the power of the Gods; for as soon as he arrived at
Corinth, news was brought him that the same ship was in port, and that
his party had seized it and secured all the men, merchants and others.
Whereupon Periander commended Gorgias’s discretion and zeal, desiring
him to proceed and lose no time, but immediately to clap them in close
prison, and to suffer none to come at them to give the least notice of
Arion’s miraculous escape.
19. Gentlemen, quoth Esop, I remember you derided my dialogue of the
daws and crows; and now you can admire and believe as improbable a
story of dolphins. You are mightily out, said I, for this is no new
story which we believe, but it is recorded in the annals of Ino and
Athamas above a thousand years ago. These passages are supernatural,
quoth Solon, and much above our reason; what befell Hesiod is of a
lower kind, and more proper for our discourse, and if you have not
heard of it before, it is worth your hearing.
Hesiod was once entertained at the same house in Locris with a certain
Milesian. In this his sojourning time it happened the gentleman’s
daughter was got with child by the Milesian; which being discovered,
the whole family concluded Hesiod, if not guilty, must be privy to the
fact. His innocence was but a weak fence against their jealousy and
aspersions; and therefore, rashly censuring him guilty, the brothers
of the woman waylaid him in his return home, and slew him and his
companion Troilus near the temple of Nemean Jove in Locris. Their
carcasses they threw into the sea; that of Troilus was carried into the
river Daphnus, and rested upon a certain rock compassed with waters,
just above the surface of the sea, which rock bears his name to this
day. The body of Hesiod was no sooner fallen upon the surface of the
water, but a company of dolphins received it, and conveyed it to Rhium
and Molycria. It happened the Locrians were assembled at Rhium that
day to feast and make merry, according to the custom which continues
still among them. As soon as they perceived a carcass floating or
rather swimming towards them, they hastened, not without admiration, to
see what it was; and knowing the body to be Hesiod’s, they instantly
resolved to find out the murderers. It proved an easy discovery. After
conviction they threw them headlong alive into the sea, and ordered
their houses to be demolished to the very foundations. The body they
buried in the grove of the temple of Jove, that no foreigner might find
it out; the reason of this act was that the Orchomenians had searched
far and near for it at the instigation of the oracle, who promised them
the greatest felicity if they could get the bones of Hesiod and bury
them in their city. Now if dolphins are so favorable to dead men, it is
very probable they have a strong affection for the living, especially
for such as delight in music, whether vocal or instrumental. And this
we know undoubtedly, that these creatures delight infinitely in music;
they love it, and if any man sings or plays as he sails along in fair
weather, they will quietly swim by the side of the ship, and listen
till the music is ended. When children bathe in the water and sport
themselves, you shall have a parcel of them flock together and sport
and swim by them; and they may do it the more securely, since it is a
breach of the law of Nature to hurt them. You never heard of any man
that fishes for them purposely or hurts them wilfully, unless falling
into the nets they spoil the sport, and so, like naughty children, are
corrected for their misdemeanors. I very well remember the Lesbians
told me how a maid of their town was preserved from drowning by them.
20. It was a very true story, quoth Pittacus, and there are divers
still alive who will attest it, if need be. The builders or founders
of Lesbos were commanded by the oracle to sail till they came to a
haven called Mesogaeum, there they should sacrifice a bull to Neptune,
and for the honor of Amphitrite and the sea-nymphs they should offer a
virgin. The principal persons in this colony were seven in number; the
eighth was one Echelaus by name, and appointed head of the rest by the
oracle himself; and he was a bachelor. A daughter of one of these seven
was to be sacrificed, but who it should be was to be decided by lot,
and the lot fell upon Smintheus’s sister. Her they dressed most richly,
and so apparelled they conveyed her in abundance of state to the
water-side, and having composed a prayer for her, they were now ready
to throw her overboard. There was in the company a certain ingenuous
young gentleman whose name was Enalus; he was desperately in love with
this young lady, and his love prompted him to endeavor all he could for
her preservation, or at least to perish in the attempt. In the very
moment she was to be cast away, he clasps her in his arms and throws
himself and her together into the sea. Shortly after there was a flying
report they were both conveyed safe to land. A while after Enalus was
seen at Lesbos, who gave out they were preserved by dolphins. I could
tell you stories more incredible than these, such as would amuse some
and please others; but it is impossible to command men’s faith. The sea
was so tempestuous and rough, the people were afraid to come too near
the waters, when Enalus arrived. A number of polypuses followed him
even to Neptune’s temple, the biggest and strongest of which carried a
great stone. This Enalus dedicated, and this stone is therefore called
Enalus to this day. To be short and to speak all in a few words,—he
that knows how to distinguish between the impossible and the unusual,
to make a difference between the unlikely and the absurd, to be neither
too credulous nor too distrustful,—he hath learned your lesson, Do not
overdo.[7]
21. Anacharsis after all this discourse spake to this purpose: Since
Thales has asserted the being of a soul in all the principal and most
noble parts of the universe, it is no wonder that the most commendable
acts are governed by an over-ruling Power; for, as the body is the
organ of the soul, so the soul is an instrument in the hand of God.
Now as the body has many motions of its own proceeding from itself,
but the best and most from the soul, so the soul acts some things by
its own power, but in most things it is subordinate to the will and
power of God, whose glorious instrument it is. To me it seems highly
unreasonable—and I should be but too apt to censure the wisdom of the
Gods, if I were convinced—that they use fire, and water, and wind, and
clouds, and rain for the preservation and welfare of some and for the
detriment and destruction of others, while at the same time they make
no use of living creatures that are doubtless more serviceable to their
ends than bows are to the Scythians or harps or pipes to the Greeks.
Chersias the poet broke off this discourse, and told the company of
divers that were miraculously preserved to his certain knowledge, and
more particularly of Cypselus, Periander’s father, who being newly
born, his adversary sent a party of bloody fellows to murder him. They
found the child in his nurse’s arms, and seeing him smile innocently
upon them, they had not the heart to hurt him, and so departed; but
presently recalling themselves and considering the peremptoriness of
their orders, they returned and searched for him, but could not find
him, for his mother had hid him very carefully in a chest.[8] When
he came to years of discretion, and understood the greatness of his
former danger and deliverance, he consecrated a chapel at Delphi to
Apollo, by whose care he conceived himself preserved from crying in
that critical time, and by his cries from betraying his own life.
Pittacus, addressing his discourse to Periander, said: It is well done
of Chersias to make mention of that chapel, for this brings to my
mind a question I several times purposed to ask you but still forgot,
namely,—To what intent all those frogs were carved upon the palm-tree
before the door, and how they affect either the Deity or the dedicator?
Periander remitted him to Chersias for answer, as a person better
versed in these matters, for he was present when Cypselus consecrated
the chapel. But Chersias smiling would not satisfy them, until they
resolved him the meaning of these aphorisms; “Do not overdo,” “Know
thyself,” but particularly and principally this,—which had scared
divers from wedlock and others from suretyship and others from speaking
at all,—“Promise, and you are ruined.” What need we to explain to you
these, when you yourself have so mightily magnified Esop’s comment
upon each of them. Esop replied: When Chersias is disposed to jest
with me upon these subjects, and to jest in earnest, he is pleased to
father such sayings and sentences upon Homer, who, bringing in Hector
furiously flying upon others, yet at another time represents him as
flying from Ajax son of Telamon,[9]—an argument that Hector knew
himself. And Homer made Ulysses approve the saying “Do not overdo,”
when he besought his friend Diomedes not to commend him too much nor
yet to censure him too much. And for suretyship he exposes it as a
matter unsafe, nay highly dangerous, saying that to be bound for
idle and wicked men is full of hazard.[10] To confirm this, Chersias
reported how Jupiter had thrown Ate headlong out of heaven, because she
was by when he made the promise about the birth of Hercules whereby he
was circumvented.
Here Solon interrupted: I am of this mind, that we now give ear to the
most wise Homer,—
But now the night extends her awful shade:
The Goddess parts you: be the night obeyed.[11]
If it please the company then, let us sacrifice to the Muses, to
Neptune, and to Amphitrite, and so bid each adieu for this night.
This was the conclusion of that meeting, my dear Nicarchus.