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 PAUSANIAS AND CLEONICE. 
 
 Page 80. 
 
Efft ILorl] ILstton lEtittion 
 
 PADSANIAS THE SPARTAN 
 
 AN UNFINISHED HISTORICAL ROMANCE 
 
 ST 
 
 THE LATE LOED LYTTON 
 
 {EDITED BY HIS SON) 
 
 fbIladelfhia: 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 
 
 1888. 
 
-\. 
 
 UNivtRGrrv 
 
IDcbication. 
 
 TO 
 
 THE REV. BENJAMIN HALL KENNEDY, D.D., 
 
 CANON OP ELY, AND REGIUS PROFESSOR Olf GREEK IN THE UNI- 
 VERSITY OP CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 Mr DEAR Dr. Kennedy, — Revised by your helpful hand, 
 and corrected by yovfr accurate scholarship, to whom may 
 these pages be so fitly inscribed as to that one of their au- 
 thor's earliest and most honored friends,* whose generous 
 assistance has enabled me to place them before the public 
 in their present form ? 
 
 It is fully fifteen, if not twenty, years since my father 
 commenced the composition of an historical romance on 
 the subject of Pausanias, the Spartan Regent. Circum- 
 stances, which need not here be recorded, compelled him 
 to lay aside the work thus begun. But the subject con- 
 tinued to haunt his imagination and occupy his thoughts. 
 He detected in it singular opportunities for effective ex- 
 
 * The late Lord Lytton, in his unpublished autobiographical mem- 
 oirs, describing his contemporaries at Cambridge, speaks of Dr. Ken- 
 nedy as " a young giant of learning." — L. 
 1* 
 
b DEDICATION. 
 
 ercise of the gifts most peculiar to his genius; and re- 
 peatedly, in the intervals of other literary labor, he returned 
 to the task which, though again and again interrupted, was 
 never abandoned. To that rare combination of the im- 
 aginative and practical faculties which characterized my far 
 ther's intellect, and received from his life such varied illus- 
 tration, the story of " Pausanias," indeed, briefly as it is 
 told by Thucydides and Plutarch, addressed itself with sin- 
 gular force. The vast conspiracy of the Spartan Regent, 
 had it been successful, would have changed the whole 
 course of Grecian history. To any student of political 
 phenomena, but more especially to one who, during the 
 greater part of his life, had been personally engaged in 
 active politics, the story of such a conspiracy could not 
 fail to be attractive. To the student of human nature the 
 character of Pausanias himself ofEera sources of the deep- 
 est interest ; and, in the strange career and tragic fate of 
 the great conspirator, an imagination fascinated by the su- 
 pernatural must have recognized remarlcable elements of 
 awe and terror. A few months previous to his death, I 
 asked my father whether he had abandoned all intention 
 of finishing his romance of " Pausanias." He replied, " On 
 the contrary, I am finishing it now," and entered, with 
 great animation, into a discussion of the subject and its 
 capabilities. This reply to my inquiry surprised and im- 
 pressed me ; for, as you are aware, my father was then en- 
 gaged in the simultaneous composition of two other and 
 very difEerent works, "Kenelm Chillingly" and the "Pa- 
 risians." It was the last time he ever spoke to me about 
 
DEDICATION. 7 
 
 "Pausanias;" but from what he then said of it I derived 
 an impression that the book was all but completed, and 
 needing only a few finishing touches to be ready for pub- 
 lication at no distant date. 
 
 This impression was confirmed, subsequent to my fa- 
 ther's death, by a letter of instructions about his posthu- 
 mous papers which accompanied his will. In that letter, 
 dated 1856, special allusion is made to "Pausanias" as a 
 work already far advanced toward its conclusion. 
 
 You, to whom, in your kind and careful revision of it, 
 this unfinished work has suggested many questions which, 
 alas! I can not answer, as to the probable conduct and 
 fate of its fictitious characters, will readily understand my 
 reluctance to surrender an impression seemingly so well 
 justified. I did not, indeed, cease to cherish it until reit- 
 erated and exhaustive search had failed to recover from the 
 "wallet" wherein Time "puts alms for oblivion" more 
 than those few imperfect fragments which, by your val- 
 ued help, are here arranged in such order as to carry on 
 the narrative of " Pausanias," with no solution of contin- 
 uity, to the middle of the second volume. 
 
 There the manuscript breaks off. Was it ever continued 
 further? I know not. Many circumstances induce me to 
 believe that the conception had long been carefully com- 
 pleted in the mind of its author ; but he has left behind 
 him only a very meagre and imperfect indication of the 
 course which, beyond the point where it is broken, his nar- 
 rative was intended to follow. In presence of this fact, I 
 have had to choose between the total suppression of the 
 
a DEDICATION. 
 
 fragment, and the publication of it in its present form. 
 My choice has not been made without hesitation; but I 
 trust that, from many points of view, the following pages 
 will be found to justify it. 
 
 Judiciously (as I can not but think) for the purposes of 
 his fiction, my father has taken up the story of " Pausa- 
 nias " at a period subsequent to the battle of Flatsea ; when 
 the Spartan Regent, as Admiral of the United Greek Fleet 
 in the waters of Byzantium, was at the summit of his pow- 
 er and reputation. Mr. Grote, in his great work, expresses 
 the opinion (which certainly can not be disputed by un- 
 biased readers of Thucydides) that the victory of Flatsea 
 was not attributable to any remarkable abilities on the part 
 of Pausanias. But Mr. Grote fairly recognizes as quite ex- 
 ceptional the fame and authority accorded to Pausanias, 
 after the battle, by all the Hellenic States, the influence 
 which his name commanded, and the awe which his char- 
 acter inspired. Not to the mere fact of his birth as a Her- 
 acleid, not to the lucky accident (if such it were) of his 
 success at Platsea, and certainly not to his undisputed (but 
 surely by no means uncommon) physical courage, is it pos- 
 sible to attribute the peculiar position which this remarka- 
 ble man so long occupied in the estimation of his con- 
 temporaries. For the little that we know about Pausanias 
 we are mainly dependent upon Athenian writers, who must 
 have been strongly prejudiced against him. Mr. Grote, 
 adopting (as any modern historian needs must do) the nar- 
 rative so handed down to him, never once pauses to ques- 
 tion its estimate of the character of a man who was at one 
 
DEDICATION. 9 
 
 time the glory, and at another the terror, of all Greece. 
 Yet in comparing the summary proceedings taken against 
 Leotychides with the extreme, and seemingly pusillanimous, 
 deference paid to Pausanias by the Ephors long after they 
 possessed the most alarming proofs of his treason, Mr. 
 Grote observes, without attempting to account for the fact, 
 that Pausanias, though only Regent, was far more power- 
 ful than any Spartan King. Why so powerful ? Obvious- 
 ly, because he possessed uncommon force of character ; a 
 force of character strikingly attested by every known inci- 
 dent of his career ; and which, when concentrated upon the 
 conception and execution of vast designs (even if those de- 
 signs be criminal), must be recognized as the special at- 
 tribute of genius. Thucydides, Plutarch, Diodorus, Grote, 
 all these writers ascribe solely to the administrative inca- 
 pacity of Pausanias that offensive arrogance which char- 
 acterized his command at Byzantium, and apparently cost 
 Sparta the loss of her maritime hegemony. But here is 
 precisely one of those problems in public policy and per- 
 sonal conduct which the historian bequeaths to the imagi- 
 native writer, and which needs, for its solution, a profound 
 knowledge rather of human nature than of books. For, 
 dealing with such a problem, my father, in addition to the 
 intuitive penetration of character and motive which is com- 
 mon to every great romance-writer, certainly possessed two 
 qualifications special to himself : the habit of dealing prac- 
 tically with political questions, and experience in the act- 
 ive* management of men. His explanation of the policy 
 of Pausanias at Byzantium, if it be not (as I think it is) 
 
 1* 
 
10 DESICATIOir. 
 
 the right one, is at least the only one yet offered. I vent- 
 ure to think that, histortcallj, it merits attention ; as, from 
 the imaginative point of view, it is undoubtedly felicitous. 
 By- elevating our estimate of Pausanias as a statesman, it 
 increases our interest in him as a man. 
 
 The author of " Pausanias " does not merely tell us that 
 his hero, when in conference with the Spartan commission- 
 ers, displayed " great natural powers which, rightly trained, 
 might have made him not less renowned in council than in 
 war," but he gives us, thou^ briefly, the arguments used by 
 Pausanias. He presents to us the image, always interest- 
 ing, of a man who grasps firmly the dear conception of a 
 definite but difiScult policy, for success in which he is de- 
 pendent on the conscious or involuntary co-operation of 
 men impenetrable to that conception, and possessed of a 
 collective authority even greater than his own. To retain 
 Sparta temporarily at the head of Greece was an ambition 
 quite consistent with the more criminal designs of Pau- 
 sanias ; and hia whole conduct at Byzantium is rendered 
 more intelligible than it appears in history, when he points 
 out that " for Sparta, to maintain her ascendency two things 
 are needful : first, to continue the war by land ; secondly, 
 to disgust the lonians with tiieir sojourn at Byzantium) to 
 send them with their ships back to their own havens, and 
 BO leave Hellas und^r the sole guardianship of the Spartans 
 and their Peloponnesian allies." And who has not learned, 
 in a later school, the wisdom of the Spartan commission- 
 ers ? Do not their utterances sound familiar to us f " In- 
 crease of dominion is waste of life and treasure. Sparta 
 
DEDICATION. 11 
 
 is content to hold her own. What care yre who leads the 
 Greeks into blows? The fewer blows, the better. Brave 
 men fight if they must : wise men never fight if they can 
 help it." Of this scene and some others in the first volume 
 of the present fragment (notably the scene in which the Ke- 
 gent confronts the allied chiefs, and defends himself against 
 the charge of connivance at the escape of the Persian prisi 
 oners), I should have been tempted to say that they could 
 not have been written without personal experience of po- 
 litical life, if the interview between Wallenstein and the 
 Swedish embassadors in Schiller's great trilogy did not re- 
 cur to my recollection as I write. The language of the em- 
 bassadors in that interview is » perfect manual of practical 
 diplomacy ; and yet in practical diplomacy Schiller had no 
 personal experience. There are, indeed, no limits to the 
 creative power of genius. But it is perha,ps the practical 
 politician who will be most interested by the chapters in 
 which Pausanias explains his policy, or defends his position. 
 
 In publishing a romance which its author has left unfin- 
 ished, I may perhaps be allowed to indicate briefly what I 
 believe to have been the general scope of its design, and the 
 probable progress of its narrative. 
 
 The " domestic interest " of that narrative is supplied by 
 the story of Cleonice : a story which, briefly told by Plu- 
 tarch, suggests one of the most tragic situations it is possi- 
 ble to conceive. The pathos and terror of this dark, weird 
 episode in a life which history herself invests with all the 
 character of romance, long haunted the imagination of By- 
 ron, and elicited from Goethe one of the most whimsical 
 
12 DEDICATION. 
 
 illustrations of the astonisHng absurdity into wMcli criti- 
 cism sometimes tumbles, wlien it "o'erieaps itself and falls 
 o' the other." 
 
 Writing of Manfred and its author, he says: "There 
 are, properly speaking, two females whose phantoms forever 
 haunt him ; and which, in this piece also, perform principal 
 parts. One under the name of Astarte, the other without 
 form or actual presence, and merely a voice. Of the hor- 
 rid occurrence which took place with the former, the fol- 
 lowing is related: When a bold and enterprising young 
 man, he won the affections of a Florentine lady. Her hus- 
 band discovered the amour, and murdered his wife. But 
 the murderer was the same night found dead in the street, 
 and there was no one to whom any suspicion could be at- 
 tached. Lord Byron removed from Florence, and these spir- 
 its haunted him all his life after. This romantic incident 
 is rendered highly probable by innumerable allusions to it 
 in his poems ; as, for instance, when turning his sad con- 
 templations inward, he applies to himself the fatal histo- 
 ry of the King of Sparta. It is as follows : Pausanias, a 
 Lacedaemonian general, acquires glory by the important vic- 
 tory at Platasa ; but afterward forfeits the confidence of his 
 countrymen by his arrogance, obstinacy, and secret intrigues 
 with the common enemy. This man draws upon himself 
 the heavy guilt of innocent blood, which attends him to his 
 end; for, while commanding the fleet of the allied Greeks 
 in the Black Sea, he is inflamed with a violent passion for a 
 Byzantine maiden. After long resistance, he at length ob- 
 tains her from her parents, and she is to be delivered up to 
 
DEDICATION. 13 
 
 him at night. She modestly desires the servant to put out 
 the lamp, and, while groping her way in the dark, she over- 
 turns it. Pausanias is awakened from his sleep: appre- 
 hensive of an attack from murderers, he seizes his sword 
 and destroys his mistress. The horrid sight never leaves 
 him. Her shade pursues him unceasingly ; and in vain he 
 implores aid of the gods and the exorcising priests. That 
 poet must have a lacerated heart who. selects such a scene 
 from antiquity, appropriates it to himself, and burdens his 
 tragic image with it."* 
 
 It is extremely characteristic of Byron that, instead of 
 resenting this charge of murder, he was so pleased by the 
 criticism in which it occurs that he afterward dedicated 
 " The Deformed Transformed " to Goethe. Mr. Grote re- 
 peats the story above alluded to, with all the sanction of 
 his grave authority, and even mentions the name of the 
 young lady ; apparently for the sake of adding a few black 
 strokes to his character of Pausanias. Ent the supernatu< 
 ral part of the legend was, of course, beneath the notice of 
 a nineteenth -century critic; and he passes it by. This 
 part of the story is, however, essential to the psychological 
 interest of it. For whether it be that Pausanias supposed 
 himself, or that contemporary gossips supposed him, to be 
 haunted by the phantom of the woman he had loved and 
 slain, the fact in either case affords a lurid glimpse into 
 the inner life of the man ; just as, although Goethe's mur- 
 der-story about Byron is ludicrously untrue, yet the fact 
 
 * Moore's "Life and Letters of Lord Byron, "p. 723. 
 
14 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 that such a story was circulated, and could be seriously re- 
 peated by such a man as Goethe without being resented by 
 Byron himself, offers significant illustration, both of what 
 Byron was, and of what he appeared to his contemporaries. 
 Grote also assigns the death of Cleonice to that period 
 in the life of Pausanias when he was in the command of 
 the allies at Byzantium, and refers to it as one of the nu- 
 merous outrages whereby Pausanias abused and disgraced 
 the authority confided to him. Plutarch, however, who 
 tells the story in greater detail, distinctly fixes the date of 
 its catastrophe subsequent to the return of the Eegent to 
 Byzantium, as a solitary volunteer, in the trireme of Her- 
 mione. The following is his account of the affair : 
 
 " It is related that Pausanias, when at Byzantium, sought, 
 with criminal purpose, the love of a young lady of good 
 family, named Cleonice. The parents, yielding to fear or 
 necessity, suffered him to carry away their daughter. Be- 
 fore entering his chapiber, she requested that the light 
 might be extinguished, and, in darkness and silence, she 
 approached the couch of Pausanias, who was already asleep. 
 In so doing, she accidentally upset the lamp. Pausanias, 
 suddenly aroused from slumber, and supposing that some 
 enemy was about to assassinate him, seized his sword, 
 which lay by his bedside, and with it struck the maiden 
 to the ground. She died of her wound; and from that 
 moment repose was banished from the life of Pausanias. 
 A spectre appeared to him every night in his sleep, and 
 repeated to him, in reproachful tones, this hexameter 
 verse : 
 
DEDICATION. 15 
 
 " ' Whither I wait thee, march, and receive the doom than deservest : 
 Sooner or later, but ever, to man crime bringeth disaster,' 
 
 The allies, scandalized by this misdeed, concerted with 
 Cimon, and besieged Fausanias in Byzantium ; but he suc- 
 ceeded in escaping. Continually troubled by the phantom, 
 he took refuge, it is said, at Heraclea, in that temple 
 ■where the souls of the dead are evoked. He appealed to 
 Cleonice, and conjured her to mitigate his torment. She 
 appeared to him, and told him that on his return to Sparta 
 he would attain the end of his sufferings ; indicating, as it 
 would seem, by these enigmatic words, the death which 
 there awaited him. This " (adds Plutarch) " is a story told 
 by most of the historians."* 
 
 I feel, no doubt, that this version of the story, or at 
 least the general outline of it, would have been followed 
 by the romance, had my father lived to complete it. Some 
 modification of its details would doubtless have been neces- 
 sary for the purposes of fiction. But that the Cleonice of 
 the novel is destined to die by the hand of her lover is 
 clearly indicated. To me it seems that considerable skill 
 and judgment are shown in the pains taken, at the very 
 opening of the book, to prepare the mind of the reader 
 for an incident which would have been intolerably painful, 
 and must have prematurely ended the whole narrative in- 
 terest, had the character of Cleonice been drawn otherwise . 
 than as we find it in this first portion of the book. From 
 the outset she appears before us under the shadow of a 
 
 * Plutarch, "Life of Cimon." 
 
16 DEDICATION. 
 
 tragic fatality. Of that fatality she is herself intuitively 
 conscious, and with it her whole being is in harmony. No 
 sooner do we recognize her real character than we perceive 
 that, for such a character, there can be no fit or satisfactory 
 issue from the diflBculties of her position, in any conceiv- 
 able combination of earthly circumstances. But she is not 
 of the earth, earthly. Her thoughts already habitually 
 hover on the dim frontier of some vague spiritual region 
 in which her love seeks refuge from the hopeless realities 
 of her life ; and, recognizing this betimes, we are prepared 
 to see above the hand of her ill-fated lover, when it strikes 
 her down in the dark, the merciful and releasing hand of 
 her natural destiny. 
 
 But, assuming the author to have adopted Plutarch's 
 chronology, and deferred the death of Cleonice till the re- 
 turn of Pausanias to Byzantium (the latest date to which 
 he could possibly have deferred it), this catastrophe must 
 still have occurred somewhere in the course, or at the close, 
 of his second volume. There would, in that case, have 
 still remained about nine years (and those the most event- 
 ful) of his hero's career to be narrated. The premature 
 removal of the heroine from the narrative, so early in the 
 course of it, would therefore, at first sight, appear to be a 
 serious defect in the conception of this romance. Here it 
 is, however, that the credulous gossip of the old biographer 
 comes to the rescue of the modem artist. I apprehend 
 that the Cleonice of the novel would, after her death, have 
 been still sensibly present to the reader's imagination 
 throughout the rest of the romance. She would then 
 
DEDICATION. 17 
 
 have moved through it like a fate, re-appearing in the most 
 solemn moments of the story, and at all times apparent, 
 even when unseen, in her visible influence upon the fierce 
 and passionate character, the sombre and turbulent career, 
 of her guDty lover. In short, we may fairly suppose that, 
 in all the closing scenes of the tragedy, Cleonice would 
 have stiU figured and acted as one of those supernatural 
 agencies which my father, following the example of his 
 great predecessor, Scott, did not scruple to introduce into 
 the composition of historical romance.* 
 
 Without the explanation here suggested, those metaphys- 
 ical conversations between Cleonice, Alcman, and Pausanias, 
 which occupy the opening chapters of Book 11., might be 
 deemed superfluous. But, in fact, they are essential to the 
 preparation of the catastrophe; and that catastrophe, if 
 reached, would undoubtedly have revealed to any reflective 
 reader their important connection with the narrative which 
 they now appear to retard somewhat unduly. 
 
 Quite apart from the unfinished manuscript of this story 
 of Pausanias, and in another portion of my father's papers 
 which have no reference to this story, I have discovered the 
 following, undated, memorandum of the destined contents of 
 the second and third volumes of the work. 
 
 PAUSANIAS. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Lvsander — Sparta — Ef hors — Decision to recall Fansanias. 60. 
 
 • "Harold." 
 2* 
 
18 DEDICATION. 
 
 Pausanias with Phamabazes— On the point of success— Xerxes' 
 daughter — Interview with Cleonice — Recalled. 60. 
 
 Sparta — Alcman with his family. 60. 
 
 Cleonice— Antagoras— Yields to suit of marriage. 60. 
 
 Pausanias suddenly re-appears, as a volunteer — Scenes. 60. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Pausanias removes Cleonice, etc. — Conspiracy against him — Up to 
 Cleonice's death. 100. 
 
 His expulsion ifrom By zantium— His despair— His journey into 
 Thrace — Scythians, etc. ? 
 
 Heraclea— Ghost. 60. 
 His i-eturn — to Colonje. ? 
 
 Antagoras resolved on revenge — Communicates with Sparta. ? 
 
 The * * * — Conference with Alcman — Pausanias depends on He- 
 lots, and money. 40. 
 
 His return — to death. 120. 
 
 This is the only indication I can find of the intended con- 
 clusion of the story. Meagre though it be, however, it suf- 
 ficiently suggests the manner in which the author of the ro- 
 mance intended to deal with the circumstances' of Cleonice's 
 death as related by Plutarch. "With her forcible removal by 
 Pausanias, or her wUling flight with him from the house of 
 her father, it would probably have been difficult to reconcile 
 the general sentiment of the romance, in connection with any 
 circumstances less conceivable than those which are indicated 
 in the memorandum. But, in such circumstances, the step 
 
DEDICATION. 19 
 
 taken by Pausanias might Lave had no worse motive than 
 the rescue of the woman who loved him from forced union 
 with another ; and Cleonice's assent to that step might have 
 been quite compatible with the purity and heroism of her 
 character. In this manner, moreover, a strong motive is 
 prepared for that sentiment of revenge on the part of An- 
 tagoras whereby the dramatic interest of the story might 
 be greatly heightened in the subsequent chapters. The in- 
 tended introduction of the supernatural element is also clear- 
 ly indicated. But, apart from this, fine opportunities for 
 psychological analysis would doubtless have occurred in 
 tracing the gradual deterioration of such a character as that 
 of Pausanias when, deprived of the guardian influence of a 
 hope passionate, but not impure, its craving for fierce excite> 
 ment must have been stimulated by remorseful memories 
 and impotent despairs. Indeed, the imperfect manuscript 
 now printed contains only the exposition of a tragedy. All 
 the most striking effects, all the strongest dramatic situa- 
 tions, have been reserved for the page? of the manuscript 
 which, alas ! are either lost or unwritten. 
 
 Who can doubt, for instance, how effectually, in the clos- 
 ing scenes of this tragedy, the grim image of Alitl^ea might 
 have assumed the place assigned to it by history 1 All that 
 we now see is the preparation made for its effective presen- 
 tation in the foreground of such later scenes, by the chapter- 
 in the second volume describing the meeting between Ly- 
 sander and the stern mother of his Spartan chief. In Ly- 
 sander himself, moreover, we have the germ of a singularly 
 dramatic situation. How would Lysander act in the final 
 
20 DEDICATION. 
 
 struggle wliicli his character and fate are already preparing 
 for him, between patriotism and friendship, his fidelity to 
 Pausanias, and his devotion to Sparta? Is Lysander's fa- 
 ther intended for that Ephor who, in the last moment, made 
 the sign that warned Pausanias to take refuge in the temple 
 which became his living tomb? Probably. Would The- 
 mistocles, who was so seriously compromised in the conspir- 
 acy of Pausanias, have appeared and played a part in those 
 scenes on which the curtain must remain unlifted? Possi- 
 bly. Is Alcman the Helot who revealed to the Ephors the 
 gigantic plots of his master just when those plots were on 
 the eve of execution? There is much in the relations be- 
 tween Pausanias and the Mothon, as they are described in 
 the opening chapters of the romance, which favors, and in- 
 deed renders almost irresistible, such a supposition. But 
 then, on the other hand, what genius on the part of the au- 
 thor could reconcile us to the perpetration by his hero of a 
 crime so mean, so cowardly, as that personal perfidy to which 
 history ascribes the revelation of the Regent's far more ex- 
 cusable treasons, and their terrible punishment ? 
 
 These questions must remain unanswered. The magician 
 can wave his wand no more. The circle is broken, the spells 
 are scattered, the secret lost. The images which he evoked, 
 and which he alone could animate, remain before us incom- 
 plete, semi-articulate, unable to satisfy the curiosity they in- 
 spire. A group of fragments, in many places broken, you 
 have helped me to restore. With what reverent and kindly 
 care, with what disciplined judgment and felicitous sugges- 
 tion, you have accomplished the difficult task so generously 
 
DEDICATION. 21 
 
 nndertaken, let me tere most gratefully attest. Beneath the 
 sculptor's name allow me to inscribe upon the pedestal your 
 own, and accept this sincere assurance of the inherited es- 
 teem and personal regard with which I am, my dear Dr. 
 Kennedy, 
 
 Your obliged and faithful 
 
 Lttton. 
 CnmiA, July 5th, 1875. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 On one of the quays which bordered the unrivaled har- 
 bor of Byzantium, more than twenty-three centuries before 
 the date at which this narrative is begun, stood two Athe- 
 nians. In the waters of the haven rode the vessels of the 
 Grecian fleet. So deep was the basin, in which the tides 
 are scarcely felt,* that the prows of some of the ships 
 touched the quays, and the setting sun glittered upon the 
 smooth and waxen surfaces of the prows, rich with diversi- 
 fied colors and wrought gilding. To the extreme right of 
 the fleet, and nearly opposite the place upon which the 
 Athenians stood, was a vessel still more profusely orna- 
 mented than the rest. On the prow were elaborately carved 
 the heads of the twin deities of the Laconian mariner, Cas- 
 tor and Pollux ; in the centre of the deck was a wooden 
 edifice or pavilion, having a gilded roof and shaded by pur- 
 ple awnings, an imitation of the luxurious galleys of the 
 Barbarian ; while the parasemon, or flag, as it idly waved 
 
 * Gibbon, oh. 17. 
 8 2 
 
26 PAtrSANIAS, THE ' SPARTAir. 
 
 in the faint breeze of tlie gentle evening, exhibited the ter- 
 rible serpent, which, if it was the fabulous type of demi- 
 gods and heroes, might also be regarded as an emblem of 
 the wily but stern policy of the Spartan State. Such was 
 the galley of the commander of the armament,- which (after 
 the reduction of Cyprus) had but lately wrested from the 
 yoke of Persia that link between her European and Asiatic 
 domains, that key of the Bosporus — " the Golden Horn " 
 of Byzantine.* 
 
 High above all other Greeks (Themistocles alone ex- 
 cepted) soared the fame of that renowned chief, Pausa- 
 nias, Regent of Sparta, and General of the allied troops at 
 the victorious battle-field of Plataea. The spot on which 
 the Athenians stood was lonely, and now unoccupied, save 
 by themselves and the sentries stationed at some distance 
 on either hand. The larger proportion of the crews in 
 the various vessels were on shore ; but on the decks idly 
 reclined small groups of sailors, and the murmur of their 
 voices stole, indistinguishably blended, upon the translucent 
 air. Behind rose, one above the other, the Seven Hills^ on 
 which long afterward the Emperor Constantine built a sec- 
 ond Rome; and over these heights, even then, buildings 
 were scattered of various forms and dates ; here the pil- 
 
 * "The harbor of Constantinople, which may be considered 
 as an arm of the Bosporus, obtained in a very remote period 
 the denomination of the Golden Horn. The curve which it de- 
 scribes might be compared to tlie liorn of a stag, or, as it should 
 seem, with more propriety, to that of an ox." — Gib., ch. 17; 
 Strab., 1. X. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 27 
 
 lared temples of the Greet colonists, to whom Byzantium 
 owed its origin, there the light roofs and painted domes 
 which the Eastern conquerors had introduced. 
 
 One of the Athenians was a man in the meridian of man- 
 hood, of a calm, sedate, but somewhat haughty aspect ; the 
 other was in the full bloom of youth, of lofty stature, 
 and with a certain majesty of bearing ; down his shoulders 
 flowed a profusion of long curled hair,* divided in the cen- 
 tre of the forehead, and connected with golden clasps, in 
 which was wrought the emblem of the Athenian nobles — 
 the Grasshopper — a fashion not yet obsolete, as it had be- 
 come in the days of Thucydides. Still, to an observer, 
 there was something heavy in the ordinary expression of 
 the handsome countenance. His dress differed from the 
 earlier fashion of the lonians; it dispensed with those 
 loose linen garments which had something of effeminacy 
 in their folds, and was confined to the simple and statue- 
 like grace that characterized the Dorian garb. Yet the 
 clasp that fastened the chlamys upon the right shoulder, 
 leaving the arm free, was of pure gold and exquisite work- 
 manship, and the materials of the simple vesture were of 
 a quality that betokened wealth and rank in the wearer. 
 
 " Yes, Cimon," said the elder of the Athenians, " yonder 
 galley itself affords sufficient testimony of the change that 
 has come over the haughty Spartan. It is difficult, indeed, 
 to recognize in this luxurious satrap, who affects the dress, 
 the manners, the very insolence of the Barbarian, that Pau- 
 
 * lou apud Plut. 
 
28 PAtrSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 sanias who, after the glorious day of Plataea, ordered the 
 slaves to prepare in the tent of Mardonius such a banquet 
 as would have been served to the Persian, while his own 
 Spartan broth and bread were set beside it, in order that 
 he might utter to the chiefs of Greece that noble pleas- 
 antry, ' Behold the folly of the Persians, who forsook such 
 splendor to plunder such poverty.' "* 
 
 " Shame upon his degeneracy, and thrice shame !" said 
 the young Cimon, sternly. " I love the Spartans so well 
 that I blush for whatever degrades them. And all Sparta 
 is dwarfed by the efEeminacy of her chief." 
 
 "Softly, Cimon," said Aristides, with a sober smile. 
 " Whatever surprise we may feel at the corruption of Pau- 
 sanias, he is not one who will allow us to feel contempt. 
 Through all the voluptuous softness acquired by inter- 
 course with these Barbarians, the strong nature of the de- 
 scendant of the demi-god still breaks forth. Even at the 
 distafE I recognize Alcides, whether for evil or for good. 
 Pausanias is one on whom our most anxious gaze must be 
 duly bent. But in this change of his I rejoice ; the gods 
 are at work for Athens. See you not that, day after day, 
 while Pausanias disgusts the allies with the Spartans them- 
 selves, he throws them more and more into the arms of 
 Athens ? Let his madness go on, and ere long the violet- 
 crowned city wiU become the queen of the seas." 
 
 " Such was my own hope," said Cimon, his face assuming 
 a new expression, brightened with all the intelligence of am- 
 
 * Herod., ix. 82. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 29 
 
 bition and pride ; " but I did not dare own it to myself till 
 you spoke. Several officers of Ionia and the Isles have al- 
 ready openly and loudly proclaimed to me their wish to 
 exchange the Spartan ascendency for the Athenian." 
 
 "And with all your love for Sparta," said Aristides, 
 looking steadfastly and searchingly at his comrade; "you 
 would not, then, hesitate to rob her of a glory which you 
 might bestow on your own Athens ?" 
 
 " Ah, am I not Athenian 3" answered Cimon, with a deep 
 passion in his voice. "Though my great father perished 
 a victim to the injustice of a faction — tho\igh he wbo had 
 saved Athens from the Mede died in the Athenian dungeon 
 — still, fatherless, I see in Athens but a mother ; aijd if her 
 voice sounded harshly in my boyish years, in manhood I 
 have feasted on her smiles. Yes, I honor Sparta, but I love 
 Athens. You have my answer." 
 
 "You speak well," said Aristides, with warmth; "you 
 are worthy of the destinies for which I foresee that the 
 son of Miltiades is reserved. Be wary, be cautious ; above 
 all, be smooth, and blend with men of every state and 
 grade. I would wish that the allies themselves should 
 draw the contrast between the insolence of the Spartan 
 chief and the courtesy of the Athenians. What said you 
 to the Ionian officers 5'' 
 
 "I said that Athens held there was no difference be- 
 tween to command and to obey, except so far as was best 
 for the interests of Greece ; that, as on the field of Platasa, 
 when the Tegeans asserted precedence over the Athenians, 
 
 we, the Athenian army, at once exclaimed, through your 
 3» 
 
30 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 voice, Aristides, ' We come here to fight the Barbarian, not 
 to dispute among ourselves ; place us where you will '* — 
 even so now, while the allies give the command to Sparta, 
 Sparta we will obey. But if we were thought by the 
 Grecian States the fittest leaders, our answer would be the 
 same that we gave at Platsea, ' Not we, but Greece be con- 
 sulted : place us where you will !' " 
 
 " O wise Cimon !" exclaimed Aristides, " I have no cau- 
 tion to bestow on you. You do by intuition that which I 
 attempt by experience. But hark ! What music sounds 
 in the distance? The airs that Lydia borrowed from the 
 East?" 
 
 " And for which," said Cimon, sarcastically, " Pausanias 
 hath abandoned the Dorian flute." 
 
 Soft, airy, and voluptuous were indeed the sounds which 
 now, from the streets leading upward from the quay, float- 
 ed along the delicious air. The sailors rose, listening and 
 eager, from the decks ; there was once more bustle, life, 
 and animation on board the fleet. From several of the ves- 
 sels the trumpets woke a sonorous signal -note. In a few 
 minutes the quays, before so deserted, swarmed with the 
 Grecian mariners, who emerged hastUy, whether from vari- 
 ous houses in the haven, or from the encampment which 
 stretched along it, and hurried to their respective ships. 
 On board the galley of Pausanias there was more especial 
 animation ; not only mariners, but slaves, evidently from 
 the Eastern markets, were seen jostling each other, and 
 
 * Plut., in Vit. Arist. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 31 
 
 heard talking, quick and loud, in foreign tongues. Kich 
 carpets were unfurled and laid across the deck, while trem- 
 bling and hasty hands smoothed into yet more graceful 
 folds the curtains that shaded the gay pavilion in the cen- 
 tre. The Athenians looked on, the one with thoughtful 
 composure, the other with a bitter smile, while these prepa- 
 rations announced the unexpected, and not undreaded, ap- 
 proach of the great Pausanias. 
 
 " Ho, noble Cimon !" cried a young man who, hurrying 
 toward one of the vessels, caught sight of the Athenians 
 and paused. " You are the very person whom I most de- 
 sired to see. Aristides too ! — we are fortunate." 
 
 The speaker was a young man of slighter make and lower 
 stature than the Athenians, but well shaped, and with feat- 
 ures the partial effeminacy of which was elevated by an 
 expression of great vivacity and intelligence. The steed 
 trained for Elis never bore in its proportions the evidence 
 of blood and rare breeding more visibly than the dark brill- 
 iant eye of this young man; his broad, low, transparent 
 brow, expanded nostril, and sensitive lip revealed the pas- 
 sionate and somewhat arrogant character of the vivacious 
 Greek of the ^gean Isles. 
 
 " Antagoras," replied Cimon, laying his hand with frank 
 and somewhat blunt cordiality on the Greek's shoulder, 
 " like the grape of your own Chios, you can not fail to be 
 welcome at all times. But why would you seek us now ?" 
 
 "Because I will no longer endure the insolence of this 
 rude Spartan. Will you believe it, Cimon — will you be- 
 lieve it, Aristides 3 Pausanias has actually dared to sen- 
 
32 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 tence to blows, to stripes, one of my own men — a free 
 Chian — nay, a Decadarchus.* I have but this instant 
 heard it. And the offense — gods ! the offense ! — was that 
 he ventured to contest with a Laeonian, an underling in 
 the Spartan army, which one of the two had the fair right 
 to a wine-cask ! Shall this be borne, Cimon ?" 
 
 " Stripes to a Greek !" said Cimon, and the color mount- 
 ed to his brow. "Thinks Pausanias that the Ionian race 
 are already his Helots 1" 
 
 " Be calm," said Aristides ; " Pausanias approaches. I 
 will accost him." 
 
 " But listen still !" exclaimed Antagoras, eagerly, pluck- 
 ing the gown of the Athenian, as the latter turned away. 
 " When Pausanias heard of the contest between my soldier 
 and his Laeonian, what said he, think you ? ' Prior claim ; 
 learn henceforth that, where the Spartans are to be found, 
 the Spartans in all matters have the prior claim.' " 
 
 " We will see to it," returned Aristides, calmly ; " but 
 keep by my side." 
 
 And now the music sounded loud and near, and sud- 
 denly, as the procession approached, the character of that 
 music altered. The Lydian measures ceased, those who had 
 attuned them gave way to musicians of loftier aspect and 
 simpler garb ; in whom might be recognized, not indeed 
 the genuine Spartans, but their free, if subordinate, coun- 
 trymen of Laconia ; and a minstrel, who walked beside 
 them, broke out into a song, partially adapted from the 
 
 * Leader of ten men. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAN. 33 
 
 bold and lively strain of AIcjbus, the first two lines in each 
 stanza ringing much to that chime, the two latter reduced 
 into briefer compass, as, with allowance for the differing 
 laws of national rhythm, we thus seek to render the verse : 
 
 SONG. 
 Multitudes, backward ! Way for the Dorian 1 
 Way for the Lord of rocky Laconia I 
 Heaven to Hercules opened 
 Way on the earth for his son. 
 
 Steel and fate, blunted, break on his fortitude ; 
 Two evils ouly never endureth he^- 
 Death by a wound in retreating, 
 Life with a blot on his name. 
 
 Eocky his birthplace ; rocks are immutable ; 
 So are his laws, and so shall his glory be. 
 Time is the Victor of Nations, 
 Sparta the Victor of Time. 
 
 Watch o'er him heedful on the wide ocean, 
 Brothers of Helen, luminous guiding stars; 
 Dangerous to Truth are the fickle, 
 Dangerous to Sparta the seas. 
 
 Multitudes, backward ! Way for the Conqueror I 
 Way for the footstep half the world fled before ; 
 Nothing that Phoebus can shine on 
 Needs so much space as Eenown. 
 
 Behind the musicians came ten Spartans, selected from 
 the celebrated three hundred who claimed the right to 
 
 2* 
 
34 PAtJSANIAS, THE SPARTAIT. 
 
 be stationed around the king in battle. Tall, stalwart, 
 sheathed in armor, their shields slung at their backs, their 
 crests of plumage or horse -hair waving over their strong 
 and stern features, these hardy warriors betrayed to the 
 keen eye of Aristides their sullen discontent at the part as- 
 signed to them in the luxurious procession ; their brows 
 were knit, their lips contracted, and each of them who 
 caught the glance of the Athenians turned his eyes, as half 
 in shame, half in anger, to the ground. 
 
 Coming now upon the quay, opposite to the galley of 
 Pausanias, from which was suspended a ladder of silken 
 cords, the procession halted, and, opening on either side, 
 left space in the midst for the commander. 
 
 " He comes," whispered Antagoras to Cimon. " By Her- 
 cules ! I pray you survey him well. Is it the conqueror of 
 Mardonius, or the ghost of Mardonius himself ?" 
 
 The question of the Chian seemed not extravagant to the 
 blunt son of Miltiades, as his eyes now rested on Pausanias. 
 The pure Spartan race boasted, perhaps, the most superb 
 models of masculine beauty which the land blessed by 
 Apollo could afford. The laws that regulated marriage 
 insured a healthful and vigorous progeny. Gymnastic dis- 
 cipline from early boyhood gave ease to the limbs, iron to 
 the muscle, grace to the whole frame. Every Spartan, be- 
 ing born to command, being noble by his birth, lord of 
 the Laconians, Master of the Helots, superior in the eyes of 
 Greece to all other Greeks, was at once a Eepublican and 
 an Aristocrat. Schooled in the arts that compose the 
 presence, and give calmness and majesty to the bearing, he 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 35 
 
 combined witli the mere physical advantages of activity 
 and strength a conscious and yet natural dignity of mien. 
 Amidst the Greeks assembled at the Olympian contests, 
 others shovred richer garments, more sumptuous chariots, 
 rarer steeds ; but no state could vie with Sparta in the thews 
 and sinews, the aspect and the majesty, of the men. Nor 
 were the royal race, the descendants of Hercules, in ex- 
 ternal appearance unworthy of their countrymen and of 
 their fabled origin. 
 
 Sculptor and painter would have vainly tasked their 
 imaginative minds to invent a nobler ideal for the effigies 
 of a hero than that which the Victor of Platsea offered to 
 their inspiration. As he now paused amidst the group, he 
 towered high above them all, even above Cimon himself. 
 But in his stature there was nothing of the cumbrous bulk 
 and stolid heaviness which often destroy the beauty of vast 
 strength. Severe and early training, long habits of rigid 
 abstemiousness, the toils of war, and, more than all, per' 
 baps, the constant play of a restless, anxious, aspiring tem^ 
 per, had left, undisfigured by superfluous flesh, the grand 
 proportions of a frame, the very spareness of which had at 
 once the strength and the beauty of one of those hardy 
 victors in the wrestling or boxing match, whose agility and 
 force are modeled by discipline to the purest forms of 
 grace. Without that exact and chiseled harmony of coun- 
 tenance which characterized perhaps the Ionic rather than 
 the Doric race, the features of the royal Spartan were noble 
 and commanding. His complexion was sunburned, al- 
 most to Oriental swarthiness, and the raven's plume had no 
 
3S PA0SANIA9, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 darter gloss than that of his long hair, which {contrary to 
 the Spartan custom), flowing on either side, mingled with 
 the closer curls of the beard. To a scrutinizing gaze, the 
 more dignified and prepossessing efiect of this exterior 
 would perhaps have been counterbalanced by an eye, bright 
 indeed and penetrating, but restless and suspicious, by a 
 certain ineffable mixture of arrogant pride and profound 
 melancholy in the general expression of the countenance, 
 ill according with that frank and serene aspect which best 
 becomes the face of one who would lead mankind. About 
 him altogether — the countenance, the form, the bearing — 
 there was that which woke a vague, profound, and singular 
 interest, an interest somewhat mingled with awe, but not 
 altogether uncalculated to produce that affection which be- 
 longs to admiration, save when the sudden frown or dis- 
 dainful lip repelled the gentler impulse, and tended rather 
 to excite fear, or to irritate pride, or to wound self-lovie. 
 
 But if the form and features of Pausanias were eminent- 
 ly those of the purest race of Greece, the dress which he 
 assumed was no less characteristic of the Barbarian. He 
 wore, not the garb of the noble Persian race, which, close 
 and simple, was but a little less manly than that of the 
 Greeks, but the flowing and gorgeous garments of the 
 Mede. His long gown, which swept the earth, was cover- 
 ed with flowers wrought in golden tissue. Instead of the 
 Spartan hat, the high Median cap or tiara crowned his per- 
 fumed and lustrous hair, while (what of all was most hate- 
 ful to Grecian eyes) he wore, though otherwise unarmed, 
 the curved cimeter and short dirk that were the national 
 
PAtrSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 37 
 
 weapons of the Barbarian. And as it was not customary, 
 nor indeed legitimate, for the Greeks to wear weapons on 
 peaceful occasions and with their ordinary costume, so this 
 departure from the common practice had not only in itself 
 something offensive to the jealous eyes of his comrades, 
 but was. rendered yet more obnoxious by the adoption of 
 the very arms of the East. 
 
 By the side of Pausanias was a man whose dark beard 
 was already sown with gray. This man, named Gongylus, 
 though a Greek — a native of Eretria, in Eubcea — was in 
 high command under the great Persian king. At the time 
 of the Barbarian invasion under Datis and Artaphernes, he 
 had deserted the cause of Greece, and had been rewarded 
 with the lordship of four towns in ^olis. Few among the 
 apostate Greeks were more deeply instructed in the lan- 
 guage and manners of the Persians; and the intimate and 
 sudden friendship that had grown up between him and the 
 Spartan was regarded by the Greeks with the most bitter 
 and angry suspicion. As if to show his contempt for the 
 natural jealousy of his countrymen, Pausanias, however, had 
 just given to the Eretrian the government of Byzantium it- 
 self, and with the command of the citadel had intrusted to 
 him the custody of the Persian prisoners captured in that 
 port. Among these were men of the highest rank and in- 
 fluence at the court of Xerxes ; and it was more than ru- 
 mored that of late Pausanias had visited and conferred 
 with them, through the interpretation of Gongylus, far 
 more frequently than became the General of the Greeks. 
 GoB^lus had one of those countenances which are ob- 
 
38 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAlf. 
 
 served when many of more striking semblance are overlook- 
 ed. But the features were sharp and the visage lean, the 
 eyes vivid and sparkling as those of the lynx, and the dark 
 pupil seemed yet more dark from the extreme whiteness of 
 the ball, from which it lessened or dilated with the impulse 
 of the spirit which gave it fire. There was in that eye 
 all the subtle craft, the plotting and restless malignity, 
 which usually characterized those Greek renegades who 
 prostituted their native energies to the rich service of the 
 Barbarian ; and the lips, narrow and thin, wore that ever- 
 lasting smile which to the credulous disguises wile, and to 
 the experienced betrays it. Small, spare, and prematurely 
 bent, the Eretrian supported himseK by a staff, upon which 
 now leaning, he glanced, quickly and pryingly, around, till 
 Ms eyes rested upon the Athenians, with the young Chian 
 standing in their rear. 
 
 " The Athenian Captains are here to do you homage, 
 Pausanias," said he, in a whisper, as he touched with his 
 small lean fingers the arm of the Spartan. 
 
 Pausanias turned and muttered to himself, and at that 
 instant Aristides approached. 
 
 " If it please you, Pausanias, Cimon and myself, the lead- 
 ers of the Athenians, would crave a hearing upon certain 
 matters." 
 
 " Son of Lysimachus, say on." 
 
 " Your pardon, Pausanias," returned the Athenian, lower- 
 ing his voice, and with a smile — "this is too crowded a 
 council-hall ; may we attend you on board your galley ?" 
 
 " Not so," answered the Spartan, haughtily ; " the morn- 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTA'n. 39 
 
 ing to affairs, the evening to recreation. We shall sail in 
 the bay to see the moon rise, and if we indulge in consulta- 
 tions, it will be over our wine-cups. It is a good custom." 
 
 " It is a Persian one," said Cimon, bluntly. 
 
 " It is permitted to us," returned the Spartan, coldly, 
 " to borrow from those we conquer. But enough of this. 
 I have no secrets with the Athenians. No matter, if the 
 whole city hear what you would address to Pausanias." 
 
 " It is to ciSmplain," said Aristides with calm emphasis, 
 but stiU in an under-tone. 
 
 "Ay, I doubt it not: the Athenians are eloquent in 
 grumbling." 
 
 " It was not found so at Platsea," returned Cimoix 
 
 "Son of Miltiades," said Pausanias, loftily, "your wit 
 outruns your experience. But my time is short. To the 
 matter !" 
 
 " If you will have it so, I will speak," said Aristides, rais- 
 ing his voice. "Before your own Spartans, our comrades 
 in arms, I proclaim our causes of complaint. Firstly, then, 
 I demand release and compensation to seven Athenians, 
 free-born and citizens, whom your orders have condemned 
 to the unworthy punishment of standing all day in the 
 open sun with the weight of iron anchors on their shoul- 
 ders." 
 
 " The mutinous knaves !" exclaimed the Spartan. " They 
 introduced into the camp the insolence of their own Agora, 
 and were publicly heard in the streets inveighing against 
 myself as a favorer of the Persians." 
 
 " It was easy to confute the charge ; it was tyrannical to 
 
40 PACSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 punish words in men whose deeds had raised you to the 
 command of Greece." 
 
 " Their deeds ! Ye gods, give me patience ! By the help 
 of Juno the Protectress, it was this brain and this arm that — 
 But I will not justify myself by imitating the Athenian fash- 
 ion of wordy boasting. Pass on to your next complaint." 
 
 "You have placed slaves — yes. Helots — around the 
 springs, to drive away with scourges the soldiers that come 
 for water." 
 
 " Not so, but merely to prevent others from filling their 
 vases until the Spartans are supplied." 
 
 "And by what right — ?" began Cimon, but Aristides 
 checked him with a gesture, and proceeded. 
 
 "That precedence is not warranted by custom, nor by 
 the terms of our alliance ; and the springs, Pausanias, are 
 bounteous enough to provide for all. I proceed. You have 
 formally sentenced citizens and soldiers to the scourge. Nay, 
 this very day you have extended the sentence to one in act- 
 ual command among the Chians. Is it not so, Antagoras ?" 
 
 " It is," said the young Chian, coming forward boldly ; 
 " and in the name of my countrymen I demand justice." 
 
 "And I also, Uliades of Samos," said a thick -set and 
 burly Greek who had joined the group unobserved, "/ de- 
 mand justice. "What, by the gods ! Are we to be all 
 equals in the day of battle ? ' My good sir, march here ;' 
 and, ' My dear sir, just run into that breach ;' and yet when 
 we have won the victory and should share the glory, is one 
 state, nay, one man, to seize the whole, and deal out iron 
 anchors and tough cowhides to his companions ? No, Spaj> 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE BPAKTAN. 41 
 
 tans, this is not your view of the case ; you suffer in the 
 eyes of Greece by this misconduct. To Sparta itself I ap- 
 peal." 
 
 *' And what, most patient sir," said Pausanias, with calm 
 sarcasm, though his eye shot fire, and the upper lip, on which 
 no Spartan suffered the beard to grow, shghtly quivered 
 — "what is your contribution to the catalogue of com- 
 plaints ?" 
 
 " Jest not, Pausanias ; you will find me in earnest," an- 
 swered Uliades, doggedly, and encouraged by the evident 
 effect that his eloquence had produced upon the Spartans 
 themselves. "I have met with a grievous wrong, and all 
 Greece shall hear of it, if it be not redressed. My own 
 brother, who at Mycale slew four Persians with his own 
 hand, headed a detachment for forage. He and his men 
 were met by a company of mixed Laconians and Helots, 
 their forage taken from them, they themselves assaulted, 
 and my brother, a man who has moneys and maintains for- 
 ty slaves of his own, struck thrice across the face by a ras- 
 cally Helot. Now, Pausanias, your answer !" 
 
 " You have prepared a notable scene for the commander 
 of your forces, son of Lysimachus," said the Spartan, ad- 
 dressing himself to Aristides. " Far be it from me to affect 
 the Agamemnon, but your friends are less modest in imi- 
 tating the venerable model of Thersites. Enough" (and, 
 changing the tone of his voice, the chief stamped his foot 
 vehemently to the ground) : " we owe no account to our 
 inferiors ; we render no explanation save to Sparta and her 
 Ephors." 
 
 4* 
 
42 PAHSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 " So be it, then," said Aristides, gravely ; " we have our 
 ansvFsr, and you will hear of our appeal." 
 
 Pausanias changed color. " How ?" said he, with a slight 
 hesitation in his tone. " Mean you to threaten me — Me — 
 with carrying the busy tales of your disaffection to the 
 Spartan government ?" 
 
 " Time will show. Farewell, Pausanias. We will detain 
 you no longer from your pastime." 
 
 " But," began Uliades. 
 
 " Hush," said the Athenian, laying his hand on the Sa- 
 mian's shoulder. ," We wiU'confer anon." 
 
 Pausanias paused a moment, irresolute and in thought. 
 His eyes glanced toward his own countrymen, who, true to 
 their rigid discipline, neither spake nor moved, but whose 
 countenances were sullen and overcast, and at that moment 
 his pride was shaken, and his heart misgave him. Gongy- 
 lus watched his countenance, and, once more laying his hand 
 on his arm, said, in a whisper, 
 
 " He who seeks to rule never goes back." 
 
 " Tush ! you know not the Spartans." 
 
 "But I know Human Nature; it is the same every- 
 where. You can not yield to this insolence ; to-morrow, of 
 your own accord, send for these men separately and pacify 
 them." 
 
 " You are right. Now to the vessel !" 
 
 With this, leaning on the shoulder of the Persian, and 
 with a slight wave of his hand toward the Athenians — ^he 
 did not deign even that gesture to the island oflBcers — Pau- 
 sanias advanced to the vessel, and, slowly ascending, disap- 
 
PAUSANTAS, THE SPARTAN. 43 
 
 peared within his pavilion. The Spartans and the musicians 
 followed ; then, spare and swarthy, some half score of Egyp- 
 tian sailors ; last came a small party of Laconians and He- 
 lots, who, standing at some distance behind Pausanias, had 
 not hitherto been observed. The former were biit slightly 
 armed; the latter had forsaken their customary rude and 
 savage garb, and wore long gowns and gay tunics, somewhat 
 in the fashion of the Lydians. With these last there was 
 one of a mien and aspect that strongly differed from the 
 lowering and ferocious cast of countenance common to the 
 Helot race. He was of the ordinary stature, and his frame 
 was not characterized by any appearance of unusual strength ; 
 but he trod the earth with a firm step and an erect crest, as 
 if the curse, of the slave had not yet destroyed the inborn 
 dignity of the human being. There were a certain delicacy 
 and refinement, rather of thought than beauty, in his clear, 
 sharp, and singularly intelligent features. In contradistinc- 
 tion from the free -bom Spartans, his hair was short, and 
 curled close above a broad and manly forehead ; and his 
 large eyes of dark blue looked full and bold upon the Athe- 
 nians with something, if not of defiance, at least of pride in 
 their gaze, as he stalked by them to the vessel. 
 
 "A sturdy fellow for a Helot," muttered Cimon. 
 
 "And merits well his freedom," said the son of Lysima- 
 chus. " I remember him well. He is Alcman, the foster- 
 brother of Pausanias, whom he attended at Platsea. Not a 
 Spartan that day bore himself more bravely." 
 
 "No doubt they will put him to death when he goes 
 back to Sparta," said Antagoras. " When a Helot is brave, 
 
44 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 the Epliors clap the black mark against his name, and at 
 the next crypteia he suddenly disappears." 
 
 " Pausanias may share the same fate as his Helot, for all 
 I care," quoth TJliades. " Well, Athenians, what say you to 
 the answer we have received?" 
 
 " That Sparta shall hear of it," answered Aristides. 
 
 "Ah, but is that all? EecoUect the lonians have the 
 majority in the fleet ; let us not wait for the slow Ephors. 
 Let us at once throw o£E this insufferable yoke, and proclaim 
 Athens the Mistress of the Seas. What say you, Cimon ?" 
 
 " Let Aristides answer." 
 
 "Yonder lie the Athenian vessels," said Aristides. 
 "Those who put themselves voluntarily under our protec- 
 tion we will hot reject. But remember we assert no 
 claim ; we yield but to the general wish." 
 
 " Enough ; I understand you," spid Antagoras. 
 
 " Not quite," returned the Athenian, with a smile. " The 
 breach between you and Pausanias is begun, but it is not 
 yet wide enough. You yourselves must do that which will 
 annul all power in the Spartan, and then if ye Come to 
 Athens ye will find her as bold against the Doric despot 
 as against the Barbarian foe." 
 
 " But speak more plainly. What would ye liave us do ?" 
 asked Uliades, rubbing his chin in great perplexity. 
 
 " Nay, nay, I have already said enough. Fare ye well, 
 fellow-countrymen," and, leaning lightly on the shoulder of 
 Cimon, the Athenian passed on. 
 
 Meanwhile, the splendid galley, of Pausanias slowly put 
 forth into the'^farther waters of the bay. The oars of the 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 45 
 
 rowers broke the surface into countless phosphoric sparkles ; 
 and the sound they made, as they dashed amidst the gen- 
 tle waters, seemed to keep time with the song and the in- 
 struments on the deck. The lonians gazed in silence as 
 the stately vessel, now shooting far ahead of the rest, 
 swept into the centre of the bay. And the moon, just 
 rising, shone full upon the glittering prow, and streaked 
 the rippling billows over which it had bounded, with a 
 light, as it were, of glory. 
 
 Antagoras sighed. 
 
 " What think you of ?" asked the rough Samian, 
 
 " Peace," replied Antagoras. " In this hour, when the 
 fair face of Artemis recalls the old legends of Endymion, is 
 it not permitted to man to remember that before the iron 
 age came the golden, before war reigned love ?" 
 
 "Tush!" said Uliades. "Time enough to think of love 
 when we have satisfied vengeance. Let us summon our 
 friends, and hold council on the Spartan's insults." 
 
 " Whither goes now the Spartan ?" murmured Antagoras 
 abstractedly, as he suffered his companion to lead him 
 away. Then, halting abruptly, he struck his clenched hand 
 on his breast. 
 
 " Aphrodite !" he cried ; " this night — this night I will 
 seek thy temple. Hear my vows — soothe my jealousy !" 
 
 "Ah," grunted TJliades, "if, as men say, thou lovest a 
 fair Byzantine, Aphrodite will have sharp work to cure 
 thee of jealousy, unless she first makes thee blind." 
 
 Antagoras smiled faintly, and the two lonians moved on 
 slowly and in silence. In a few minutes more the quays 
 
46 PATTSANIAS, THE SPAETAN, 
 
 were deserted, and nothing but the blended murmur, spread- 
 ing wide and indistinct throughout the camp, and a noisier 
 but occasional burst of merriment from those resorts of 
 obscener pleasure which were profusely scattered along the 
 haven, mingled with the whispers of " the far resounding 
 sea," 
 
PAUSANIAB, THE SPARTAN, 47 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 On a coucli, beneath Ms voluptuous awning, reclined 
 Pausanias. The curtains, drawnT aside, gave to view the 
 moonlit ocean and the dim shadows of the shore, with the 
 dark woods beyond, relieved by the distant lights of the 
 city. On one side of the Spartan was a small table, that 
 supported goblets and vases of that exquisite wine which 
 Maronea profEered to the thirst of the Byzantine ; and those 
 cooling and delicious fruits which the orchards around the 
 city supplied as amply as the fabled gardens of the Hes- 
 perides, were heaped on the other side. Toward the foot 
 of the couch, propped upon cushions piled on the floor, sat 
 Gongylus, conversing in a low, earnest voice, and fixing his 
 eyes steadfastly on the Spartan. The habits of the Ere- 
 trian's life, which had brought him in constant contact 
 with the Persians, had infected his very language with the 
 luxuriant extravagance of the East. And the thoughts he 
 uttered made his language but too musical to the ears of 
 the listening Spartan. 
 
 "And fair as these climes may seem to you, and rich as 
 are the gardens and granaries of Byzantium, yet to me who 
 have stood on the terraces of Babylon and looked upon 
 groves covering with blossom and fruit the very fortresses 
 
48 PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAN. 
 
 and walls of tLat queen of nations — to me, who have roved - 
 amidst the vast delights of Susa, through palaces whose 
 very porticoes might inclose the limits of a Grecian city — 
 who have stood, awed and dazzled, in the courts of that 
 wonder of the world, that crown of the East, the marble 
 magnificence of Persepolis — to me, Pausanias, who have 
 been thus admitted into the very heart of Persian glories, 
 this city of Byzantium appears but a village of artisans and 
 fishermen. The very foliage of its forests, pale and sickly, 
 the very moonlight upon these waters, cold and smileless 
 — ah, if thou couldst but see ! But pardon me, I weary 
 thee?" 
 
 " Not so," said the Spartan, who, raised upon his elbow, 
 listened to the words of Gongylus with deep attention. 
 "Proceed." 
 
 "Ah, if thou couldst but see the fair regions which the 
 great king has apportioned to thy countryman, Demaratus. 
 And if a domain that would satiate the ambition of the 
 most craving of your earlier tyrants fall to Demaratus, 
 what would be the splendid satrapy in which the conqueror 
 of Plataea might plant his throne?" 
 
 "In truth, my renown and my power are greater than 
 those ever possessed by Demaratus," said the Spartan, mus- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Yet," pursued Gongylus, " it is not so much the mere 
 extent of the territories which the grateful Xerxes could 
 profEer to the brave Pausanias — it is not their extent so 
 much that might tempt desire, neither is it their stately 
 forests, nor the fertile meadows, nor the ocean-like rivers, 
 
PAUSANIAS, THB SPARTAN. 49 
 
 •which the gods of the East have given to the race of Cyrus. 
 There, free from the strange constraints which our austere 
 customs and solemn deities impose upon the Greeks, the 
 beneficent Ormuzd scatters ever-varying delights upon the 
 paths of men. All that art can invent, all that the marts 
 of the universe can afford of the rare and voluptuous, are 
 lavished upon abodes the splendor of which even our idle 
 dreams of Olympus never shadowed forth. There, instead 
 of the harsh and imperious helpmate to whom the joyless 
 Spartan confines his reluctant love, all the beauties of every 
 clime contend for the smile of their lord. And wherever 
 are turned the change-loving eyes of Passion, the Aphrodite 
 of our poets, such as the Cytherean and the Cyprian fable 
 her, seems to recline on the lotus leaf or to rise from the 
 unruffled ocean of delight. Instead of the gloomy brows 
 and the harsh tones of rivals envious of your fame, hosts 
 of friends aspiring only to be followers will catch gladness 
 from your smile or sorrow from your frown. There, no 
 jarring contests with little men, who deem themselves the 
 equals of the great, no jealous Ephor is found, to load the 
 commonest acts of life with fetters of iron custom. Talk 
 of liberty ! Liberty in Sparta is but one eternal servitude ; 
 you can not move, or eat, or sleep, save as the law directs. 
 Your very children are wrested from you just in the age 
 when their voices sound most sweet. Ye are not men ; 
 ye are machines. Call you this liberty, Pausanias ? I, a 
 Greek, have known both Grecian liberty and Persian roy- 
 alty. Better be chieftain to a king than servant to a 
 mob ! But in Eretria, at least, pleasure was not denied. 
 6 3 D 
 
60 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 In Sparta the very Graces preside over discipline and war 
 only." 
 
 "Your fire falls upon flax," said Pausanias, rising, and 
 ■with passionate emotion. "And if you, the Greek of a 
 happier state, you who know but by report the unnatural 
 bondage to which the Spartans are subjected, can weary of 
 the very name of Greek, what must be the feelings of one 
 who from the cradle upward has been starved out of the 
 genial desires of life ? Even in earliest youth, while yet all 
 other lands and customs were unknown, when it was duly 
 poured into my ears that to be born a Spartan constituted 
 the glory and the bliss of earth, my soul sickened at the 
 lesson, and my reason revolted against the lie. Often when 
 my whole body was lacerated with stripes, disdaining to 
 groan, I yet yearned to strike, and I cursed my savage tu- 
 tors who denied pleasure even to childhood with all the 
 madness of impotent revenge. My mother herself (sweet 
 name elsewhere) had no kindness in her face. She was the 
 pride of the matronage of Sparta, because of all our women 
 Alithea was the most unsexed. When I wont forth to my 
 first crypteia, to watch, amidst the wintry dreariness of the 
 mountains, upon the movements of the wretched Helots, to 
 spy upon their sufferings, to take account of their groans, 
 and if one more manly than the rest dared to mingle 
 curses with his groans, to mark him for slaughter, as a wolf 
 that threatened danger to the fold ; to lurk, an assassin, 
 about his home, to dog his walks, to fall on him unawares, 
 to strike him from behind, to filch away his life, to bury 
 him in the ravines, so that murder might leave no trace ; 
 
PAUSANIA^, THi; SBABTAN. 51 
 
 when upon this initiating campaign, the virgin trials of our 
 youth, I first set forth, my mother drew near, and girding 
 me herself with my grandsire's sword, ' Go forth,' she said, 
 'as the young hound to the chasg, to ■vviRd, to double, to 
 leap on the prey, and to taste of blood. See, the sword 
 is bright ; show me the stains at thy retuf p.' '■' 
 
 " Is it, then, true, as the Greeks generally declare," inter- 
 rupted Gongylus, " that in these campaigns, or crypteias, 
 the sole aim and object is the massacre of Helots ?" 
 
 " Not so," replied Pausanias ; " savage though the cus- 
 tom, it smells not so foully of the shambles. The avowed 
 object is to harden the nerves of our youth. Barefooted, 
 unattended, through cold and storm, performing ourselves 
 the most menial offices necessary to life, we wander for a 
 certain season daily and nightly through the rugged terri- 
 tories of Laconia.* We go as boys — we come back as 
 men.f The avowed object, I say, is inurement to hardship, 
 but with this is connected the secret end of keeping watch 
 on these half-tamed and bull-like herds of men whom we 
 call the Helots. If any be dangerous, we mark him for the 
 knife. One of them had thrice been a ringleader in revolt. 
 He was wary as well as fierce. He had escaped in three 
 succeeding crypteias. To me, as one of the Heraclidse, was 
 assigned the honor of tracking and destroying him. For 
 three days and three nights I dogged his footsteps (for he 
 
 * Plat. Leg. i., p. 633. See also Mtillei-'s "Dorians," vol. ii., 
 p. 41. 
 
 t Pueros puberes — neqne prius in ui-bem redire qnam viri 
 facti essent. — Justin, iii., 3. 
 
52 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAlT. 
 
 had caught the scent of the pursuers and fled), through 
 forest and defile, through valley and crag, stealthily and 
 relentlessly. I followed him close. At, last, one evening, 
 having lost sight of aU my comrades, I came suddenly 
 upon him as I emerged from a wood. It was a broad 
 patch of waste land, through which rushed a stream swol- 
 len by the rains, and plunging with a sullen roar down 
 a deep and gloomy precipice, that to the right and left 
 bounded the waste, the stream in front, the wood in the 
 rear. He was reclining by the stream, at which, with the 
 hollow of his hand, he quenched his thirst. I paused to 
 gaze upon him, and as I did so he turned and saw me. He 
 rose and fixed his eyes on mine, and we examined each 
 other in silence. The Helots are rarely of tall stature, bilt 
 this was a giant. His dress, that of his tribe, of rude 
 sheep -skins, and his cap, made from the hide of a dog, 
 increased the savage rudeness of his appearance. I rejoiced 
 that he saw me, and that, as we were alone, I might fight 
 him fairly. It would have been terrible to slay the wretch 
 if I had caught him in his sleep." 
 
 " Proceed," said Gongylus, with interest, for so little was 
 known of Sparta by the rest of the Greeks, especially out- 
 side the Peloponnesus, that these details gratified his nat- 
 ural spirit of gossiping inquisitiveness. 
 
 " ' Stand !' said I, and he moved not. I approached him 
 slowly. ' Thou art a Spartan,' said he, in a deep and harsh 
 voice, ' and thou comest for my blood. Go, boy, go ; thou 
 art not mellowed to thy prime, and thy comrades are far 
 away. The shears of the Fatal deities hover over the 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 53 
 
 thread, not of my life, but of thine.' I was struck, Gongy- 
 lus, by this address, for it was neither desperate nor das- 
 tardly, as I had anticipated ; nevertheless, it beseemed not a 
 Spartan to fly from a Helot, and I drew the sword which 
 my mother had girded on. The Helot watched my move- 
 ments, and seized a rude and knotted club that lay on the 
 ground beside him. 
 
 " ' Wretch,' said I, ' darest thou attack face to face a de- 
 scendant of the Heraclidse ? In me behold Pausanias, the 
 son of Cleombrotus.' 
 
 " ' Be it so ; in the city one is the god-born, the other 
 the man-enslaved. On the mountains we are equals.' 
 
 " ' Knowest thou not,' said I, ' that if the gods condemned 
 me to die by thy hand, not only thou, but thy whole house, 
 thy wife and thy children, would be sacrificed to my ghost V 
 
 " ' The earth can hide the Spartan's bones as secretly as 
 the Helot's,' answered my strange foe. ' Begone, young 
 and unfleshed in slaughter as you are ; why make war upon 
 me? My death can give you neither gold nor glory. I 
 have never harmed thee or thine. How much of the air 
 and sun does this form take from the descendant of the 
 Heraclidse V 
 
 " ' Thrice hast thou raised revolt among the Helots ; 
 thrice at thy voice have they risen in bloody, though fruit- 
 less, strife against their masters.' 
 
 " ' Not at my voice, but at that of the two deities who 
 are the war-gods of slaves — Persecution and Despair.'* 
 
 ■^ When Thcmistocles sought to extort tribute from the An- 
 
 5» 
 
54 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 " Impatient of this parley, I tarried no longer. I sprung 
 upon the Helot. He evaded my sword, and I soon found 
 that aU my agility and sMU were requisite to save me from 
 the massive weapon, one blow of which would have suflSced 
 to crush me. But the Helot seemed to stand on the de- 
 fensive, and continued to back toward the wood from which 
 I had emerged. Fearful lest he would escape me, I press- 
 ed hard on his footsteps. My blood grew warm ; my fury 
 got the better of my prudence. My foot stumbled ; I re- 
 covered in an instant, and, looking up, beheld the terrible 
 club suspended over my head ; it might have fallen, but 
 the stroke of death was withheld. I misinterpreted the 
 merciful delay ; the lifted arm left the body of my enemy 
 exposed. I struck him on the side ; the thick hide blunted 
 the stroke, but it drew blood. Afraid to draw back within 
 the reach of his weapon, I threw myself on him, and grap- 
 pled to his throat. We rolled on the earth together; it 
 was but a moment's struggle. Strong as I was even in 
 boyhood, the Helot would have been a match for Alcides. 
 A shade passed over my eyes; my breath heaved short. 
 The slave was kneeling on my breast, and, dropping the 
 club, he drew a short knife from his girdle. I gazed upon 
 him glim and mute. I was conquered, and I cared not for 
 the rest. 
 
 " The blood from his side, as he bent over me, trickled 
 down upon my face. 
 
 drians, he said, "I bring with me two powerful gods — Persiiii- 
 sioii and Force." "And on our side," was the answer, " are two 
 deities not less powerful — Poverty aud Despair I" 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 65 
 
 " 'And this blood,' said the Helot, 'you shed in the very 
 moment when I spared your life : such is the honor of a 
 Spartan. Do you not deserve to die ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, for I am subdued, and by a slave. Strike !' 
 
 " ' There,' said the Helot, in a melancholy and altered 
 tone, ' there speats the soul of the Dorian, the fatal spirit 
 to -which the gods have rendered up our wretched race. 
 We are doomed — doomed — and one victim will not expiate 
 our curse. Rise, return to Sparta, and forget that thou art 
 innocent of murder.' 
 
 " He lifted his knee from my breast, and I rose!, ashaoiied 
 and humbled. 
 
 " At that instant I heard the crashiiig of the leaves in the 
 woodj for the air was exceedingly still. I knew that iny 
 Companions were at baud. ' Fly,' I cried ; ' fly. If they 
 come I can not save thee, royal though I be. Fly.' 
 
 " ' And wouldest thou save me !' said the Helot in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " ' Ay, with my own life. Canst thou doubt it ? Lose 
 not a moment. Fly. Yet stay ;' and I tore off a part of 
 the woolen vest that I wore. 'Place this at thy side; 
 stanch the blood, that it may not track thee. Now, be- 
 gone !' 
 
 " The Helot looked hard at me, and I thought there were 
 tears in his rude eyes ; then, catching up the club with as 
 much ease as I this staff, he sped with inconceivable ra- 
 pidity, despite his wound, toward the precipice on the 
 right, and disappeared amidst the thick brambles that 
 clothed the gorge. In a few moments three of my com- 
 
66 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 panions approached. They found me exhausted, and pant- 
 ing rather with excitement than fatigue. Their quick eyes 
 detected the blood upon the ground. I gave them no time 
 to pause and examine. 'He has escaped me — he has fled,' 
 I cried; 'follow,' and I led them to the opposite part of 
 the precipice from that which the Helot had taken. Head- 
 ing the search, I pretended to catch a glimpse of the goat- 
 skin ever and anon through the trees, and I stayed not 
 the pursuit till night grew dark, and I judged the victim 
 was far away." 
 
 " And he escaped ?" 
 
 "He did. The crypteia ended. Three other Helots 
 were slain, but not by me. We returned to Sparta, and 
 my mother was comforted for my misfortune in not hav- 
 ing slain my foe by seeing the stains on my grandsire's 
 sword. I will tell thee a secret, Gongylus " — and here Pau- 
 sanias lowered his voice, and looked anxiously toward him 
 — '' since that day I have not hated the Helot race. Nay, 
 it may be that I have loved thetn better than the Dorian." 
 
 "I do not wonder at it. But has not your wounded 
 giant yet met with his death 3" 
 
 " No, I never related what had passed between us to any 
 one save my father. He was gentle for a Spartan, and he 
 rested not till Gylippus — so was the Helot named — obtained 
 exemption from the black list. He dared not, however, at- 
 tribute his intercession to the true cause. It happened, 
 fortunately, that Gylippus was related to my own foster- 
 brother, Alcman, brother to my nurse ; and Alcman is cele- 
 brated in Sparta, not only for courage in war, but for arts 
 
PAUSANIAS, THK SPARTAN. 57 
 
 in peace. He is a poet, and his strains please the Dorian 
 ear, for they are stern and simple, and they breathe of war. 
 Alcman's merits won forgiveness for the ofEenses of Gylip- 
 pus. May the gods be kind to his race !" 
 
 "Your Alcman seems one of no common intelligence, 
 and your gentleness to him does not astonish me, though 
 it seems often to raise a frown on the brows of your Spar- 
 tans." 
 
 "We have lain on the same bosom," said Fausanias, 
 touchingly, "and his mother was kinder to me than my 
 own. You must know that to those Helots who have been 
 our foster-brothers, and whom we distinguish by the name 
 of Mothons, our stem lav/ relaxes. They have no rights 
 of citizenship, it is true, but they cease to be slaves ;* nay, 
 sometimes they attain not Only to entire emancipation, but 
 to distinction. Alcman has bound his fate to mine. But 
 to return, Gongylus. I tell thee that it is not thy descrip- 
 tions of pomp and dominion that allure me, though I am 
 not above the love of power; neither is it thy glowing 
 promises, though blood too wild for a Dorian runs riot in 
 my veins : but it is my deep loathing, my inexpressible dis- 
 gust for Sparta and her laws, my horror at the thought of 
 wearing away life in those sullen customs, amidst that joy- 
 less round of tyrannic duties, in my rapture at the hope of 
 escape, of life in a land which the eye of the Ephor never 
 pierces ; this it is, and this alone, Persian, that makes me 
 
 * The appellation of Mothons was not confined to the Helots 
 who claimed the connection of foster-brothers, but was given 
 also to honseliold slaves. 
 
 3* 
 
58 PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAN. 
 
 (the words must out) a traitor to my country — one who 
 dreams of becoming a dependent on her foe." 
 
 " Nay," said Gongylus, eagerly ; for here Pausanias moved 
 uneasily, and the color mounted to his brow. " Nay, speak 
 not of dependence. Consider the proposals that you can 
 alone condescend to offer to the great king. Can the con- 
 queror of Plataea, with millions for Ms subjects, hold him- 
 self dependent, even on the sovereign of the East ? How, 
 hereafter, will the memories of our sterile Greece and your 
 rocky Sparta fade from your mind ; or be remembered only 
 as a state of thralldom and bondage, which your riper man- 
 hood has outgrown !" 
 
 " I will try to think so, at least," said Pausanias, gloom- 
 ily. "And, come what may, I am not one to recede. I 
 have thrown my shield into a fearful peril ; but I will win 
 it back or perish. Enough of this, Gongylus. Night ad- 
 vances. I wUl attend the appointment you have made. 
 Take the boat, and within an hour I will meet you with 
 the prisoners at the spot agreed on, near the Temple of 
 Aphrodite. All things are prepared ?" 
 
 "All," said Gongylus, rising, with a gleam of malignant 
 joy on his dark face. " I leave thee, kingly slave of the 
 rocky Sparta, to prepare the way for thee, as Satrap of half 
 the East." 
 
 So saying, he quit the awning, and motioned three 
 Egyptian sailors who lay on the deck without. A boat 
 was lowered, and the sound of its oars woke Pausanias 
 from the reverie into which the parting words of the Ere- 
 trian had plunged his mind. 
 
PATJSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 59 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "With a slow and thoughtful step, Pausanias passed on 
 to the outer deck. The moon was up, and the vessel scarce- 
 ly seemed to stir, so gently did it glide along the sparkling 
 waters. They were still within the bay, and the shores 
 rose, white and distinct, to his view. A group of Spartans, 
 reclining by the side of the ship, were gazing listlessly on 
 the waters. The Regent paused beside them. 
 
 "Ye weary of the ocean, methints," said he. "We 
 Dorians have not the merchant tastes of the lonians."* 
 
 " Son of Cleombrotus," said one of the group, a Spartan 
 whose rank and services entitled him to more than ordina- 
 ry familiarity with the chief, " it is not the ocean itself that 
 we should dread; it is the contagion of those who, living 
 on the element, seem to share in its ebb and flow. The 
 lonians are never three hours in the same mind." 
 
 " For that reason," said Pausanias, fixing his eyes stead- 
 fastly on the Spartan, "for that reason 1 have judged it 
 advisable to adopt a rough manner with these innovators, 
 to draw with a broad chalk the line between them and the 
 Spartans, and to teach those who never knew discipline the 
 
 * TSo Spartan served as a sailor, or indeed condescended to 
 any trade or calling but that of wax. 
 
60 PAU6ANIAS, THp SPARTAN. 
 
 stem duties of obedience. Think you I have done wise- 
 ly?" 
 
 The Spartan, who had risen when Pausanias addressed 
 him, drew his chief a little aside from the rest. 
 
 " Pausanias," said he, " the hard Naxian stone best tames 
 and tempers the fine steel ;* but the steel may break if the 
 workman be not skillful. These Athenians are grown inso- 
 lent since Marathon, and their soft kindred of Asia have re- 
 lighted the fires they took of old from the Cecropian Pryt- 
 aneum. Their sail is more numerous than ours; on the 
 sea they find the courage they lose on land. Better be 
 gentle with those wayward allies, for the Spartan grey- 
 hound shows not his teeth but to bite." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right. I will consider these things, 
 and appease the mutineers. But it goes hard with my 
 pride, Thrasyllus, to make equals of this soft-tongued race. 
 Why, these lonians, do they not enjoy themselves in per- 
 petual holidays? — spend days at the banquet? — ransack 
 earth and sea for dainties and for perfumes? — and shall 
 they be the equals of us men, who, from the age of seven 
 to that of sixty, are wisely taught to make life so barren 
 and toilsome that we may well have no fear of death ? I 
 hate these sleek and merry f east-giyers ; they are a per- 
 petual insult to our solemn existence." 
 
 There was a strange mixture of irony and passion in the 
 Spartan's voice as he thus spoke, and Thrasyllus looked 
 at him in grave surprise. 
 
 *Pind.,Jsth.,v.(vi.),73. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 61 
 
 "There is ttothitlg to ehVy In the woman -like debauch- 
 eries of the Ionian," said he, after a pause. 
 
 " Envy ! no ; we only hate them, Thrasyllus. Yon Ere- 
 trian tells me fare things of the East. Time may come 
 when we shall sup on the black broth in Susa." 
 
 " The gods forbid 1 Sparta never invades. Life with us 
 is too precious, for we are few. Pausanias, I would we 
 were well quit of Byzantium. I do not suspect you, not I ; 
 but there are those who look with vexed eyes on those 
 garments, and 1, who love you, fear the sharp jealousies of 
 the Ephors, to whose ears the birds carry all tidings." 
 
 " My poor Thrasyllus," said Pausanias, laughing scorn- 
 fully, "think you that I Wear these robes, or mimic the 
 Median manners, for love of the Mede? No, no! But 
 there are arts which save countries as Well as those of war. 
 This Gongylus is in the confidence of Xerxes. I desire to 
 establish 9. peace for Greece upon everlasting foundations. 
 Keflect; Persia hath millions yet left. Another invasion 
 may find a different fortune ; and, even at the best, Sparta 
 gains nothing by these wars. Athens triumphs, not Lace- 
 daemon. I would, I say, establish a peace with Persia. I 
 would that Sparta, not Athens, should have that honor. 
 Hence these flatteries to the Persian — trivial to us who 
 render them, sweet and powerful to those who receive. 
 Remember these words hereafter, if the Ephors make ques- 
 tion of my discretion. And now, Thrasyllus, return to our 
 friends, and satisfy them as to the conduct of Pausanias." 
 
 Quitting Thrasyllus, the Regent now joined a young 
 Spartan who stood alone by the prow in a musing attitude, 
 
 6 
 
62 PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAlT. 
 
 "Lysander, my friend, my only friend, my best -loved 
 Lysander," said Pausanias, placing his hand on the Spar- 
 tan's shoulder. " And why so sad ?" 
 
 " How many leagues are we from Sparta ?" answered Ly- 
 sander, mournfully. 
 
 " And canst thoa sigh for the black broth, my friend ? 
 Come, how often hast thou said, ' Where Pausanias is, there 
 is Sparta !' " 
 
 "Forgive me, I am ungrateful," said Lysander, with 
 warmth. " My benefactor, my guardian, my hero, forgive 
 me if I have added to your own countless causes of anx- 
 iety. Wherever you are, there is life, and there glory. 
 When I was just bom, sickly and feeble, I was exposed on 
 Taygetus. You, then a boy, heard my faint cry, and took 
 on me that compassion which my parents had forsworn. 
 You bore me to your father's roof, you interceded for 
 my life. You prevailed even on your stern mother, I was 
 saved ; and the gods smiled upon the infant whom the son 
 of the humane Hercules protected. I grew up strong and 
 hardy, and belied the signs of my birth. My parents then 
 owned me ; but still you were my fosterer, my savior, my 
 more than father. As I grew up, placed under your care, I 
 imbibed my first lessons of war. By your side I fought, 
 and from your example I won glory. Yes, Pausanias, even 
 here, amidst luxuries which revolt me more than the Par- 
 thian bow and the Persian sword, even amidst the faces 
 of the stranger, I still feel thy presence my home, thyself 
 my Sparta." 
 
 The proud Pausanias was touched, and his voice trem- 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 63 
 
 bled as he replied, " Brother in arms and in love, whatever 
 service fate may have allowed me to render unto thee, thy 
 high nature and thy cheering affection have more than 
 paid me back. Often in our lonely rambles amidst the 
 dark oaks of the sacred Scotitas,* or by the wayward wa- 
 ters of Tiasa,f when I have poured into thy faithful breast 
 my impatient loathing, my ineffable distaste for the iron 
 life, the countless and wearisome tyrannies of custom 
 which surround the Spartans, often have I found a consol- 
 ing refuge in thy divine contentment, thy cheerful wisdom. 
 Thou lovest Sparta ; why is she not worthier of thy love ? 
 Allowed only to be half men, in war we are demi-gods ; in 
 peace, slaves. Thou wouldst interrupt me. Be silent. I 
 am in a willful mood; thou canst not comprehend me, 
 and I often marvel at thee. Still we are friends, such 
 friends as the Dorian discipline, which makes friendship 
 necessary in order to endure life, alone can form. Come, 
 take up thy staff and mantle. Thou shalt be my compan- 
 ion ashore; I seek one whom alone in the world I love 
 better than thee. To-morrow to stern duties once more. 
 Alcman shall row us across the bay ; and as we glide along, 
 if thou wilt praise Sparta, I will listen to thee as the loni- 
 ans listen to their tale-tellers. Ho ! Alcman, stop the row- 
 ers, and lower the boat." 
 
 The orders were obeyed, and a second boat soon darted 
 toward the same part of the bay as that to which the one 
 that bore Gongylus had directed its course. Thrasyllus 
 
 * Paus., Lac., x. t lUd., c. xviii. 
 
64 PAtrSANIAS, THK SPARTAN. 
 
 and his companions watched the boat that bore Pausanias 
 and his two comrades, as it bounded, arrow-like, over the 
 glassy sea. 
 
 " Whither goes Pausanias ?" asted one of the Spartans. 
 
 " Back to Byzantium on business," replied Thrasyllus. 
 
 "And we?" 
 
 " Are to cruise in the bay till his return." 
 
 " Pausanias is changed." 
 
 "Sparta will restore him to what he was. Nothing 
 thrives out of Sparta. Even man spoils." 
 
 " True, sleep is the sole constant friend, the same in all 
 climates." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 65 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 On the shore to the right of the port of Byzantium were 
 at that time thickly scattered the villas or suburban retreats 
 of the wealthier and more luxurious citizens. Byzantium 
 was originally colonized by the Megarians, a Dorian race 
 kindred with that of Sparta; and the old features of the 
 pure and antique Hellas were still preserved in the dialect,* 
 as well as' in the forms, of the descendants of the colonists ; 
 in their favorite deities and rites and traditions ; even in the 
 names of places, transferred from the sterile Megara to that 
 fertile coast; in the rigid and Helot-like slavery to which 
 the native Bithynians were subjected; and in the attach- 
 ment of their masters to the oligarchic principles of govern- 
 ment. Nor was it till long after the present date that de- 
 mocracy in its most corrupt and licentious form was intro- 
 duced among them. But like all the Dorian colonies, when 
 once they departed from the severe and masculine mode of 
 life inherited from their ancestors, the reaction was rapid, 
 the degeneracy complete. Even then the Byzantines, inter- 
 mingled with the foreign merchants and traders that thronged 
 their haven, and womanized by the soft contagion of the 
 
 * "The Byzantine dialect was in the time of Philip, as we 
 know from the decree in Demosthenes, rich in Dorisms." — MtJL- 
 LEU on the Doric Dialect. 
 
 6» E 
 
■66 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 East, were voluptuous, timid, and prone to every excess save 
 that of valor. The higher class were exceedingly wealthy, 
 and gave to their vices or their pleasures a splendor and re- 
 finement of which the elder states of Greece were as yet un- 
 conscious. At a later period, indeed, we are informed that 
 the Byzantine citizens had their habitual residence in the 
 public hostels, and let their houses — not even taking the 
 trouble to remove their wives — to the strangers who crowded 
 their gay capital. And when their general found it necessa- 
 ry to demand their aid on the ramparts, he could only se- 
 cure their attendance by ordering the taverns and cook- 
 shops to be removed to the place of duty. Not yet so far 
 sunk in sloth and debauch, the Byzantines were nevertheless 
 hosts eminently dangerous to the austerer manners of their 
 Greek visitors. The people, the women, the delicious wine, 
 the balm of the subduing climate, served to tempt the senses 
 and relax the mind. Like all the Dorians, when freed from 
 primitive restraint, the higher class, that is, the descendants 
 of the colonists, were in themselves an agreeable, jovial race. 
 They had that strong bias to humor, to jest, to satire, which 
 in their ancestral Megara gave birth to the Grecian comedy, 
 and which lurked even beneath the pithy aphorisms and 
 rude merry-makings of the severe Spartan. 
 
 Such were the people with whom of late Pausanias had 
 familiarly mixed, and with whose manners he contrasted, far 
 too favorably for his honor and his peace, the habits of his 
 countrymen. 
 
 It was in one of the villas we have described, the favorite 
 abode of the rich Diagoras, and in an apartment connected 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 67 
 
 •vvith those more private recesses of the house appropriated 
 to the females, that two persons were seated by a window 
 which commanded a wide view of the glittering sea below. 
 One of these was an old man in a long robe that reached to 
 his feet, with a bald head, and a beard in which some dark 
 hairs yet withstood the encroachments of the gray. In his 
 well-cut features and large eyes were remains of the beauty 
 that characterized his race ; but the mouth was full and wide, 
 the forehead low though broad, the cheets swollen, the chin 
 double, and the whole form corpulent and unwieldy. Still 
 there was a jolly, sleek good-humor about the aspect of the 
 man that prepossessed you in his favor. This personage, 
 who was no less than Diagoras himself, was reclining lazily 
 upon a kind of narrow sofa cunningly inlaid with ivory, 
 and studying new combinations in that scientific game which 
 Palamedes is said to have invented at the siege of Troy. 
 
 His companion was of a very different appearance. She 
 was a girl who to the eye of a Northern stranger might have 
 seemed about eighteen, though she was probably much young- 
 er, of a countenance so remarkable for intelligence that it 
 was easy to see that her mind had outgrown her years. 
 Beautiful she certainly was, yet scarcely of that beauty from 
 which the Greek sculptor would have drawn his models. 
 The features were not strictly regular, and yet so harmo- 
 niously did each blend with each, that to have amended one 
 would have spoiled the whole. There was in the fullness 
 and depth of the large but genial eye, with its sweeping 
 fringe, and straight, slightly chiseled brow, more of Asia than 
 of Greece. The lips, of the freshest red, were somewhat full 
 
68 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 and pouting, and dimples without number lay scattered round 
 them — lurking-places for the loves. Her complexion was 
 clear, though dark ; and the purest and most virgin bloom 
 mantled, now paler, now richer, through the soft surface. 
 At the time we speak of she was leaning against the open 
 door with her arms crossed on her bosom, and her face 
 turned toward the Byzantine. Her robe, of a deep yellow, 
 so trying to the fair women of the North, became well the 
 glowing colors of her beauty — the damask cheek, the purple 
 hair. Like those of the lonians, the sleeves of the robe, long 
 and loose, descended to her hands, which were marvelously 
 small and delicate. Long ear-rings, which terminated in a 
 kind of berry, studded with precious stones, then common 
 only with the women of the East ; a broad collar, or neck- 
 lace, of the smaragdus, or emerald; and large clasps, me- 
 dallion-like, where the swan-like throat joined the graceful 
 shoulder, gave to her dress an appearance of opulence and 
 splendor that betokened how much the ladies of Byzantium 
 had borrowed from the fashions of the Oriental world. Noth- 
 ing could exceed the lightness of her form, rounded, it is 
 true, but slight and girlish ; and the high instep, with the 
 slender foot, so well set off by the embroidered sandal, would 
 have suited such dances as those in which the huntress 
 nymphs of Delos moved around Diana. The natural ex- 
 pression of her face, if countenance so mobile and change- 
 ful had one expression more predominant than another, ap- 
 peared to be irresistibly arch and joyous, as of one full of 
 youth and conscious of her beauty ; yet, if a cloud came 
 over the face, nothing could equal the thoughtful and deep 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 69 
 
 sadness of the dark abstfacted eyes, as if some touch of 
 higher and more animated emotion — such as belongs to 
 pride, or courage, or intellect — vibrated on the heart. The 
 color rose, the form dilated, the lip quivered, the eye flashed 
 light, and the mirthful expression heightened almost into 
 the sublime. Yet, lovely as Cleonice was deemed at Byzan- 
 tium, lovelier still as she would have appeared in modem 
 eyes, she failed in what the Greets generally, but especially 
 the Spartans, deemed an essential of beauty — in height of 
 stature. Accustomed to look upon the virgin but as the 
 future mother of a race of warriors, the Spartans saw beau- 
 ty only in those proportions which promised a robust and 
 stately progeny ; and the reader may remember the well- 
 known story of the opprobrious reproaches, even, it is said, 
 accompanied with stripes, which the Ephors addressed to a 
 Spartan king for presuming to make choice of a wife below 
 the ordinary stature. Cleonioe was small and delicate, rath- 
 er like the Peri of the Persian than the sturdy Grace of 
 the Dorian. But her beauty was her least charm. She had 
 all that feminine fascination of manner, wayward, varying, 
 inexpressible, yet irresistible, which seizes hold of the im- 
 agination as well as the senses, and which has so often made 
 willing slaves of the proud rulers of the world. In fact, 
 Cleonice, the daughter of Diagoras, had enjoyed those ad- 
 vantages of womanly education wholly unknown at that 
 time to the free-born ladies of Greece proper, but which 
 gave to the women of some of the Isles and Ionian cities 
 their celebrity in ancient story. Her mother was of Mile- 
 tus, famed for the intellectual cultivation of the sex no less 
 
70 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 than for their beauty — of Miletus, the birthplace of Aspasia 
 — of Miletus, from which those remarkable women who, un- 
 der the name of Hetasrae, exercised afterward so signal an 
 influence over the mind and manners of Athens, chiefly de- 
 rived their origin, and who seem to have inspired an aflEec- 
 tion, which in depth, constancy, and fervor approached to 
 the more chivalrous passion of the North. Such an educa- 
 tion consisted not only in the feminine and household arts 
 honored universally throughout Greece, but in a kind of 
 spontaneous and luxuriant cultivation of all that captivates 
 the fancy and enlivens the leisure. If there were something 
 pedantic in their affectation of philosophy, it was so graced 
 and vivified by a brilliancy of conversation, a charm of 
 manner carried almost to a science, a womanly facility of 
 softening all that comes within their circle, of suiting yet 
 refining each complexity and discord of character admitted 
 to their intercourse, that it had at least nothing masculine 
 or harsh. Wisdom, taken lightly or easily, seemed but an- 
 other shape of poetry. The matrons of Athens, who could 
 often neither read nor write — ignorant, vain, tawdry, and 
 not always faithful, if we may trust to such scandal as has 
 reached the modern time — must have seemed insipid beside 
 these brilliant strangers ; and while certainly wanting their 
 power to retain love, must have had but a doubtful superi- 
 ority in the qualifications that insure esteem. But we are 
 not to suppose that the HetaeraB (that mysterious and im- 
 portant class peculiar to a certain state of society, and whose 
 appellation we can not render by any proper word in mod- 
 ern language) monopolized all the graces of their country- 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN, 71 
 
 •women. In the same cities were many of unblemished vir- 
 tue and repute who possessed equal cultivation and attrac- 
 tion, but whom a more decorous life has concealed from the 
 equivocal admiration of posterity ; though the numerous fe- 
 male disciples of Pythagoras throw some light on their ca- 
 pacity and intellect. Among such as these had been the 
 mother of Cleonice, not long since dead, and her daughter 
 inherited and equaled her accomplishments, while her virgin 
 youth, her inborn playfulness of manner, her pure guileless- 
 ness, which the secluded habits of the unmarried women at 
 Byzantium preserved from all contagion, gave to qualities and 
 gifts so little published abroad the effect, as it were, of a happy; 
 and wondrous inspiration rather than of elaborate culture. 
 
 Such was the fair creature whom Diagoras, looking up' 
 from his pastime, thus addressed : 
 
 "And so, perverse one, thou canst not love this great 
 hero, a proper person truly, and a mighty warrior, who will 
 eat you an army of Persians at a meal. These Spartan 
 fighting -cocks want no garlic, I warrant you.* And yet 
 you can't love him, you little rogue." 
 
 " Why, my father," said Cleonice, with an arch smile 
 and a slight blush, " even if I did look kindly on Pausanias, 
 would it not be to my own sorrow ? What Spartan — above 
 all, what royal Spartan — may marry with a foreigner, and a 
 Byzantine ?" 
 
 * Fighting-cocks were fed with garlic, to make them more 
 fierce. The learned reader will remember how Theorus ad- 
 vised Dicseopolis to keep clear of the Thracians with garlic in 
 their mouths. — See the Acharnians of Aristophanes. 
 
72 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 "I did not precisely talk of marriage — a very happy 
 state, doubtless, to those who dislike too quiet a life, and a 
 very honorable one, for war is honor itself ; but I did not 
 speak of that, Cleonice. I would only say that this man of 
 might loves thee — that he is rich, rich, rich. Pretty pick- 
 ings at Plataea ; and we have known losses, my child, sad 
 losses. And if you do not love him, why, you can but 
 smile and talk as if you did, and when the Spartan goes 
 home, you will lose a tormentor and gain a dowry." 
 
 " My father, for shame !" 
 
 " Who talks of shame ? You women are always so sharp 
 at finding oracles in oak -leaves, that one doesn't wonder 
 Apollo makes choice of your sex for his priests. But listen 
 to me, girl, seriously," and here Diagoras with a great ef- 
 fort raised himself on his elbow, and, lowering his voice, 
 spoke with evident earnestness. "Pausanias has life and 
 death, and, what is worse, wealth or poverty, in his hands ; 
 he can raise or ruin us with a nod of his head, this black- 
 curled Jupiter. They tell me that he is fierce, irascible, 
 haughty ; and what slighted lover is not revengeful ? For 
 my sake, Cleonice, for your poor father's sake, show no 
 scorn, no repugnance ; be gentle, play with him, draw not 
 down the thunder -bolt, even Lf you turn from the golden 
 shower." 
 
 While Diagoras spoke, the girl listened with downcast 
 eyes and flushed cheeks, and there was an expression of 
 such shame and sadness on her countenance, that even .the 
 Byzantine, pausing and looking up for a reply, was startled 
 by it. 
 
PATJSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 73 
 
 " My child," said he, hesitatingly and absorbed, " do not 
 misconceive me. Cm'sed be the hour when the Spartan 
 saw thee ; but since the Fates have so served us, let us not 
 make bad worse. I love thee, Cleonice, more dearly than 
 the apple of my eye ; it is for thee I fear, for thee I speak. 
 Alas ! it is not dishonor I recommend ; it is force I would 
 shun." 
 
 " Force !" said the girl, drawing up her form with sudden 
 animation. " Fear not that. It is not Fausanias I dread ; 
 itis— " 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "No matter; talk of this no more. Shall I sing to 
 thee?" 
 
 " But Pausanias will visit us this very night." 
 
 " I know it. Hark !" and, with her finger to her lip, her 
 ear bent downward, her cheek varying from pale to red, 
 from red to pale, the maiden stole beyond the window to a 
 kind of platform or terrace that overhung the sea. There, 
 the faint breeze stirring her long hair, and the moonlight 
 full upon her face, she stood, as stood that immortal priest- 
 ess who looked along the starry Hellespont for the young 
 Leander ; and her ear had not deceived her. The oars were 
 dashing in the waves below, and dark and rapid the boat 
 bounded on toward the rocky shore. She gazed long and 
 steadfastly on the dim and shadowy forms which that slen- 
 der raft contained, and her eye detected among the three 
 the loftier form of her haufhty wooer. Presently the 
 thick foliage that clothed the descent shut the boat, Hear- 
 ing the strand, from her view; but she now heard below, 
 7 4 
 
74 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 mellowed and softened in the still and fragrant air, the 
 sound of the cithara and the melodious song of the Mo- 
 thon, thus imperfectly rendered from the language of im- 
 mortal melody : 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Carry a sword in the myrtle bough, 
 Te who would honor the tyrant-slayer j 
 I, in the leaves of the myrtle bough, 
 Carry a, tyrant to slay myself. 
 
 I pluck'd the branch with a hasty hand. 
 But Love was lurking amidst the leaves; 
 His bow is bent and his shaft is poised. 
 And I must perish or pass the bough. 
 
 Maiden, I come with a gift to thee ; 
 Maiden, I come with a myrtle wreath; 
 Over thy forehead, or round thy breast. 
 Bind, I implore thee, my myrtle wreath.* 
 
 From hand to hand by the banquet lights 
 On with the myrtle bongh passes song ; 
 From hand to hand by the silent stars 
 What with the myrtle wreath passes f Love. 
 
 I bear the god in a myrtle wreath, 
 Under the stars let him pass to thee ; 
 Empty his quiver and bind his wings, 
 Then pass the myrtle wreath back to me. 
 
 Cleonice listened breathlessly to the words, and sighed 
 heavily as they ceased. Then, as the foliage rustled below, 
 she turned quickly into the chamber and seated herself at 
 a little distance from Diagoras ; to all appearance calm, in- 
 
 * Garlands were twined round the neck, or placed upon the 
 bosom {vvoBviiidSes). See the quotations from Alcseus, Sappho, 
 and Anacreon, in Athensens, book xiii., c. 17. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THK SPARTAN. 75 
 
 different, and composed. Was it nature, or the arts of Mi- 
 letus, that taught the young beauty the hereditary artifices 
 of the sex ? 
 
 " So it is he, then ?" said Diagoras, with a fidgety and 
 nervous trepidation. " Well, he chooses strange hours to 
 visit us. But he is right ; his visits can not be too private. 
 Cleonice, you look provokingly at your ease." 
 
 Cleonice made no reply, but shifted her position so that 
 the light from the lamp did not fall upon her face, while 
 her father, hurrying to the threshold of his hall to receive 
 his illustrious visitor, soon re-appeared with the Spartan 
 Eegent, talking as he entered with the volubility of one of 
 the parasites of Alciphron and Athenseus. 
 
 "This is most kind, most affable. Cleonice said you 
 would come, Pausanias, though I began to distrust you. 
 The hours seem long to those who expect pleasure." 
 
 "And, Cleonice, y<m knew that I should come," said Pau- 
 sanias, approaching the fair Byzantine ; but his step was 
 timid, and there was no pride now in his anxious eye and 
 bended brow. 
 
 "You said you would come to-night," said Cleonice, 
 calmly, "and Spartans, according to proverbs, speak the 
 truth." 
 
 "When it is to their advantage, yes,"* said Pausanias, 
 
 * So said Thucydides of the Spartans, many years after- 
 ward. "They give evideuce of honor among themselves; but 
 with respect to others, they consider honorable whatever 
 pleases them, and just whatever is to their advantage." — See 
 Thucyd., lib. v. 
 
76 
 
 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 ■with a slight curl of his lips ; and, as if the girl's compli- 
 ment to his comitiymen had roused his spleen and changed 
 his thoughts, he seated himself moodily by Cleonice, and 
 remained silent. 
 
 The Byzantine stole an arch glance at the Spartan, as he 
 thus sat, from the comer of her eyes, and said, after a 
 pause, 
 
 " You Spartans ought to speak the truth more than other 
 people, for you say much less. We too have our proverb at 
 Byzantium, and one which implies that it requires some 
 wit to tell fibs." 
 
 " ChUd, child !" exclaimed Diagoras, holding up his hand 
 reprovingly, and directing a terrified look at the Spartan. 
 To his great relief, Pausanias smiled, and replied, 
 
 " Fair maiden, we Dorians are said to have a wit peculiar 
 to ourselves, but I confess that it is of a nature that is but 
 little attractive to your sex. The Athenians are blander 
 wooers." 
 
 "Do you ever attempt to woo in Lacedsemon, then? 
 Ah, but the maidens there, perhaps, are not difBcult to 
 please." 
 
 " The girl puts me in a cold sweat !" muttered Diagoras, 
 wiping his brow. And this time Pausanias did not smile ; 
 he colored, and answered, gravely, 
 
 "And is it, then, a vain hope for a Spartan to please a 
 Byzantine ?" 
 
 "You puzzle me. That is an enigma; put it to the 
 oracle." 
 
 The Spartan raised his eyes toward Cleonice, and, as she 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 11 
 
 saw the inquiring, perplexed look that his features assumed, 
 the ruby lips broke into so wicked a smile, and the eyes 
 that met his had so much laughter in them, that Pausanias 
 was fairly bewitched out of his own displeasure. 
 
 "Ah, cruel one!" said he, lowering his voice, "I am not 
 so proud of being Spartan that the thought should console 
 me for thy mockery." 
 
 "Not proud of being Spartan! say not so," exclaimed 
 Cleonice. "Who ever speaks of Greece and places not 
 Sparta at her head ? Who ever speaks of freedom and for- 
 gets Thermopylae? Who ever burns for glory, and sighs 
 not fpr the fame of Pausanias and Platsea? Ah, yes, even 
 in jest say not that you are not proud to be a Spartan !" 
 
 " The little fool !" cried Diagoras, chuckling, and might- 
 ily delighted ; " she is quite mad about Sparta — no wonder !" 
 
 Pausanias, surprised and moved by the burst of the fair 
 Byzantine, gazed at her admiringly, and thought within 
 himself how harshly the same sentiment would have sound- 
 ed on the lips of a tall Spartan virgin ; but when Cleonice 
 heard the approving interlocution of Diagoras, her enthusi- 
 asm vanished from her face, and, putting out her lips pout- 
 ingly, she said, " Nay, father, I repeat only what others say 
 of the Spartans. They are admirable heroes ; but from the 
 little I have seen, they are — " 
 
 " What ?" said Pausanias, eagerly, and leaning nearer to 
 Cleonice. 
 
 " Proud, dictatorial, and stem as companions." 
 
 Pausanias once more drew back. 
 
 " There it is again !" groaned Diagoras. " I feel exactly 
 
 7* 
 
18 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 as if I were playing at odd and even with a lion ; she does 
 it to vex me. I shall retaliate, and creep away." 
 
 " Cleonice," said Pausanias, with suppressed emotion, 
 " you trifle with me, and I bear it." 
 
 " You are condescending. How would you avenge your- 
 self?" 
 
 "How!" 
 
 " You would not beat me ; you would not make me bear 
 an anchor on the shoulders, as they say you do your sol- 
 diers. Shame on you I You bear with me ! True, what 
 help for you ?" 
 
 " Maiden," said the Spartan, rising in great anger, " for 
 him who loves and is slighted there is a revenge you have 
 not mentioned." 
 
 " For him who loves! No, Spartan ; for him who shuns 
 disgrace and courts the fame dear to gods and men, there 
 is no revenge upon women. Blush for your threat." 
 
 " You madden, but subdue me," said the Spartan, as he 
 turned away. He then first perceived that Diagoras had 
 gone — that they were alone. His contempt for the father 
 awoke suspicion of the daughter. Again he approached, 
 and said: "Cleonice, I know but little of the fables of 
 poets, yet is dt an old maxim often sung and ever belied, 
 that love scorned becomes hate. There are moments when 
 I think I hate thee." 
 
 " And yet thou hast never loved me," said Cleonice ; and 
 there was something soft and tender in the tone of her 
 voice, and the rough Spartan was again subdued. 
 
 " I never loved thee ! What, then, is love ? Is not thine 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 79 
 
 image always before me ? — amidst schemes, amidst perils of 
 whicli thy very dreams have never presented equal perplexi- 
 ty or phantoms so uncertain, I am occupied but with thee. 
 Surely, as upon the hyacinth is written the exclamation of 
 woe, so on this heart is graven thy name. Cleonice, you 
 who know not what it is to love, you affect to deny or to 
 question mine." 
 
 "And what," said Cleonice, blushing deeply, and with 
 tears in her eyes, "what result can come from such a love? 
 You may not wed with the stranger. And yet, Pausanias; 
 yet you know that all other love dishonors the virgin even 
 of Byzantium. You are silent; you turn away. Ah, do 
 not let them wrong you. My father fears your power. If 
 you love me, you are powerless ; your power has passed to 
 me. Is it not so? I, a weak girl, can rule, command, ir- 
 ritate, mock you, if I will. You may fly me, but not con- 
 trol." 
 
 " Do not tempt me too far, Cleonice," said the Spartan, 
 with a faint smife. 
 
 " Nay, I will be merciful henceforth ; and you,' Fausanias, 
 come here no more. Awake to the true sense of what is 
 due to your divine ancestry — your great name. Is it not 
 told of you that, after the fall of Mardonius, you nobly 
 dismissed to her country, unscathed and honored, the cap- 
 tive Coan lady ?* Will you reverse at Byzantium the fame 
 acquired at Platsea? Pausanias, spare us; appeal not to 
 my father's fear, still less to his love of gold." 
 
 * Herod., ix. 
 
80 PAUSANIAS, THE- SPAKTAN. 
 
 "I can not, I can not fly thee," said the Spartan, with 
 great emotion. " You know not ^ow stormy, how -inexo- 
 rable are the passions which burst forth after a whole youth 
 of restraint. When Nature breaks the barriers, she rushes 
 headlong on her course. I am no gentle wooer ; where in 
 Sparta should I learn the art? But, if I love thee not as 
 these mincing lonians, who come with ofierings of flowers 
 and song, I do love thee with all that fervor of which the 
 old Dorian legends tell. I could brave, like the Thracian, 
 the dark gates of Hades, were thy embrace my reward. 
 Command me as thou wilt — make me thy slave in all 
 things, even as Hercules was to Omphale ; but tell me only 
 that I may win thy love at last. Fear not. Why fear me ? 
 In my wildest moments a look from thee can control me. 
 I ask but love for love. Without thy love thy beauty were 
 valueless. Bid me not despair." 
 
 Cleonice turned pale, and the large tears that had gath- 
 ered in her eyes fell slowly down her cheeks ; but she did 
 not withdraw her hand from his clasp, or avert her counte- 
 nance from his eyes. 
 
 " I do not fear thee," said she, in a very low voice. " I 
 told my father so ; but — ^but — " (and here she drew back 
 her hand and averted her face), " I fear myself." 
 
 " Ah, no, no," cried the delighted Spartan, detaining her, 
 " do not fear to trust to thine own heart. Talk not of dis- 
 honor. There are " (and here the Spartan drew himself up, 
 and his voice took a deeper swell) — "there are those on 
 earth who hold themselves above the miserable judgments 
 of the vulgar herd — who can emancipate themselves from 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 81 
 
 those galling chains of custom and of country which helot- 
 ize affection, genius, Nature herself. What is dishonor here 
 may be glory elsewhere; and this hand, outstretched to- 
 ward a mightier sceptre than Greek ever wielded yet, may 
 dispense, not shame and sorrow, but glory and golden afflu- 
 ence to those I love." 
 
 "You amaze me, Pausanias. Now I fear you. What 
 mean these mysterious boasts ? Have you the dark ambi- 
 tion to restore in your own person that race of tyrants 
 whom your country hath helped to sweep away ? Can you 
 hope to change the laws of Sparta, and reign there, your 
 will the state?" 
 
 " Cleonice, we touch upon matters that should not dis- 
 'turb the ears of women. Forgive me if I have been roused 
 from myself." 
 
 "At Miletus — so have I heard my mother say — there 
 were women worthy to be the confidants of men." 
 
 " But they were women who loved. Cleonice, I should 
 rejoice in an hour when I might pour every thought into 
 thy bosom." 
 
 At this moment there was heard on the strand below a 
 single note from the Mothon's instrument, low,' but pro- 
 longed ; it ceased, and was again renewed. The royal con- 
 spirator started and breathed hard. 
 
 " It is the signal," he muttered ; " they wait me. Cleo- 
 nice," he said aloud, and with much earnestness in his voice, 
 " I had hoped, ere we parted, to have drawn from your lips 
 those assurances which would give me energy for the pres- 
 ent and hope in the future. Ah, turn not from me because 
 
 4* P 
 
82 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 my speech is plain and my manner rugged. What, Cleo- 
 nice, what if I could defy the laws of Sparta ; what if, in- 
 stead of that gloomy soil, I could bear thee to lands where 
 heaven and man alike smile benignant on love ? Might I 
 not hope then?" 
 
 " Do nothing to suUy your fame." 
 
 " Is it, then, dear to thee ?" 
 
 " It is a part of thee," said Cleonice, falteringly ; and as if 
 she had said too much, she covered her face with her hands. 
 
 Emboldened by this emotion, the Spartan gave way to 
 his passion and his joy. He clasped her in his arms — his 
 first embrace — and kissed, with wild fervor, the crimsoned 
 forehead, the veiling hands. Then, as he tore himself away, 
 he cast his right arm aloft. 
 
 " Hercules !" he cried, in solemn and kindling adjura- 
 tion, " my ancestor and my divine guardian, it was not by 
 confining thy labors to one spot of earth that thou wert 
 borne from thy throne of fire to the seats of the gods. 
 Like thee I will spread the influence of my arms to na- 
 tions whose glory shall be my name ; and as thy sons, my 
 fathers, expelled from Sparta, returned thither with sword 
 and spear to defeat usurpers and to found the long dynasty 
 of the Heracleids, even so may it be mine to visit that dread 
 abode of torturers and spies, and to build up in the halls of 
 the Atridae a power worthier of the lineage of the demi- 
 god. Again the signal ! Fear not, Cleonice, I will not tar- 
 nish my fame, but I wiU exchange the envy of abhorring 
 rivals for the obedience of a world. One kiss more ! Fare- 
 well 1" 
 
PAUSANIAS, THK BPABTAN. 83 
 
 Ere Cleonice recovered herself, Pausanias was gone, his 
 ■wild and uncomprehended boasts still ringing in her ear. 
 She sighed heavily, and turned toward the opening that ad- 
 mitted to the terraces. There she stood watching for the 
 parting of her lover's boat.' It was midnight ; the air, laden 
 with the perfumes of a thousand fragrant shrubs and flow- 
 ers that bloom along that coast in the rich luxuriance of 
 nature, was hushed and breathless. In its stillness every 
 sound was audible, the rustling of a leaf, the ripple of a 
 wave. She beard the murmur of whispered voices below, 
 and in a few moments she recognized, emerging from the 
 foliage, the form of Pausanias; but he was not alone. 
 Who were his companions? In the deep lustre of that 
 shining and splendid atmosphere she could see sufficient 
 of the outline of their figures to observe that they were 
 not dressed in the Grecian garb ; their long robes betrayed 
 the Persian. 
 
 They seemed conversing familiarly and eagerly as they 
 passed along the smooth sands, till a curve in the wooded 
 shore hid them from her view. 
 
 " Why do I love him so,',' said the girl, mechanically, 
 " and yet wrestle against that love ? Dark forebodings tell 
 me that Aphrodite smiles not on our vows. Woe is me ! 
 What will be the end?" 
 
84 PAUBANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 On quitting Cleonice, Pausanias hastily traversed the 
 long passage that communicated with a square peristyle or 
 colonnade, which again led, on the one hand, to the more 
 public parts of the villa, and, on the other, through a small 
 door left ajar, conducted by a back entrance, to the garden 
 and the sea-shore. Pursuing the latter path, the Spartan 
 bounded down the descent and came upon an opening in 
 the foliage, in which Lysander was seated beside the boat 
 that had been drawn partially on the strand. 
 
 " Alone ? Where is Alcman ?" 
 
 " Yonder ; you heard his signal ?" 
 
 "I heard it." 
 
 " Pausanias, they who seek you are Persians. Beware !" 
 
 " Of what ? murder ? I am warned." 
 
 " Murder to your good name. There are no arms against 
 appearances." 
 
 " But I may trust thee ?" said the Regent, quickly ; " and 
 of Alcman's faith I am convinced." 
 
 "Why trust to any man what it were wisdom to reveal 
 to the whole Grecian Council ? To parley secretly with the 
 foe is half a treason to our friends." 
 
 " Lysander," replied Pausanias, coldly, " you have much 
 to learn before you can be wholly Spartan. Tarry here 
 yet a while." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 85 
 
 " What shall I do with this boy j" muttered the conspir- 
 ator as he strode on. "I tnow that he will not betray 
 me, yet can I hope for his aid ? I love him so well that I 
 would fain he shared my fortunes. Perhaps by little and 
 little I may lead him on. Meanwhile, his race and his 
 name are so well accredited in Sparta, his father himself an 
 Ephor, that his presence allays suspicion. Well, here are 
 my Persians." 
 
 A little apart from the Mothon, who, resting his cithara 
 on, a fragment of rock, appeared to be absorbed in reflec- 
 tion, stood the men of the East. There were two of them ; 
 one of tall stature and noble presence, in the primfe of life ; 
 the other more advanced in years, of a coarser make, a yet 
 darker complexion, and of a sullen and gloomy counte- 
 nance. They were not dressed alike ; the taller, a Persian 
 of pure blood, wore a short tunic that reached only to the 
 knees ; and the dress fitted to his shape without a single 
 fold. On his round cap or bonnet glittered a string of 
 those rare pearls, especially and immemorially prized in the 
 East, which formed the favorite and characteristic ornament 
 of the illustrious tribe of the Pasargadse. The other, who 
 was a Mede, differed scarcely in his dress from Pausanias 
 himself, except that he was profusely covered with orna- 
 ments ; his arms were decorated with bracelets, he wore ear- 
 rings, and a broad collar of unpolished stones in a kind of 
 filigree was suspended from his throat. Behind the Orien- 
 tals stood Gongylus, leaning both hands on his staff, and 
 watching the approach of Pausanias with the same icy 
 smile and glittering eye with which he listened to the pas- 
 
86 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 sionate invectives or flattered the dark ambition of the Spar- 
 tan. The Orientals saluted Pausanias with a lofty gravity, 
 and Gongylus, drawing near, said : " Son of Cleombrotus, 
 the illustrious Ariamanes, kinsman to Xerxes, and of the 
 house of the Achsemenids, is so far versed in the Grecian 
 tongue that I need not profier my offices as interpreter. In 
 Datis the Mede, brother to the most renowned of the Magi, 
 you behold a warrior worthy to assist the arms even of 
 Pausanias.'' 
 
 " I greet ye in our Spartan phrase, ' The beautiful to - 
 the good,' " said Pausanias, regarding the Barbarians with 
 an earnest gaze. " And I requested Gongylus to lead ye 
 hither in order that I might confer with ye more at ease, 
 than in the confinement to which I regret ye are still sen- 
 tenced. Not in prisons should be held the conversations of 
 brave men." 
 
 " I know," said Ariamanes (the statelier of the Barbari- 
 ans), in the Greek tongue, which he spoke intelligibly in- 
 deed, but. with slowness and hesitation, " I know that I am 
 with that hero who refused to dishonor the corpse of Mar- 
 donius; and even though a captive, I converse without 
 shame with my victor." 
 
 " Kested it with me alone, your captivity should cease," 
 replied Pausanias. " War, that has made me acquainted 
 with the valor of the Persians, has also enlightened me as 
 to their character. Your king has ever been humane to 
 such of the Greeks as have sought a refuge near his 
 throne. I would but imitate his clemency." 
 
 "Had the great Darius less esteemed the Greeks, he 
 
FAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 87 
 
 would never have invaded Greece. From the wanderers 
 whom misfortune drove to his reakas, he learned to wonder 
 at the arts, the genius, the energies of the people of Hellas. 
 He desired less to win their territories than to gain such 
 subjects. Too vast, alas ! was the work he bequeathed to 
 Xerxes." 
 
 " He should not have trusted to force alone," returned 
 Pausanias. " Greece may be won, but by the arts of her 
 sons, not by the arms of the stranger. A Greek only can 
 subdue Greece. By such profound knowledge of the fac- 
 tions, the interests, the envies, and the jealousies of each 
 state as a Greek alone can possess, the mistaken chain that 
 binds them might be easily severed; some bought, some 
 intimidated, and the few that hold out subdued amidst the 
 apathy of the rest." 
 
 " You speak wisely, right hand of fellas," answered the 
 Persian, who had listened to these remarks with deep 
 attention. "Yet had we in our armies your countryman, 
 the brave Demaratus." 
 
 " But, if I have heard rightly, ye too often disdained his 
 counsel. Had he been listened to, there had been neither 
 a Salamis nor a Plataea.* Yet Demaratus himself had been 
 
 * After the action at ThermopylBB, Demaratus advised Xerx- 
 es to send three hundred vessels to the Laconian coast, and 
 seize the island of Cythera, which commanded Sparta. " The 
 profound experience of Demaratus in the selfish and exclusive 
 policy of his countrymen made him argue that if this were done 
 the fear of Sparta for herself would prevent her joining the 
 forces of the rest of Greece, and leave the latter a more easy 
 prey to the invader." — Athens : its Else and Fall. This advice 
 
S8 PA0SANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 too long a stranger to Greece, and he knew little of any 
 state save that of Sparta. Lives he still ?" 
 
 " Surely yes, in honor and renown ; little less than the 
 son of Darius himself." 
 
 "And what reward would Xerxes bestow on one of 
 greater influence than Demaratus ; on one who has hither- 
 to conquered every foe, and now beholds before him the 
 conquest of Greece herself 2" 
 
 "If such a man were found," answered the Persian, 
 " let his thought run loose, let his imagination rove, let 
 him seek only how to find a fitting estimate of the grati- 
 tude of the king and the vastness of the service." 
 
 Pausanias shaded his brow with his hand, and mused a 
 few moments ; then lifting his eyes to the Persian's watch- 
 ful but composed countenance, he said, with a slight smile : 
 
 " Hard is it, O Persian, when the choice is actually before 
 him, for a man to renounce his country. There have been 
 hours within this very day when my desires swept afar 
 from Sparta, from all Hellas, and rested on the tranquil 
 pomp of Oriental satrapies. But now, rude and stem par- 
 ent though Sparta be to me, I feel still that I am her son ; 
 and, while we speak, a throne in stormy Hellas seems the 
 fitting object of a Greek's ambition. In a word, then, I 
 would rise, and yet raise my country. I would have at 
 
 was overruled by Acbaemenes. So, again, had the advice of 
 Artemisia, the Carian princess, been taken — to delay the uaval 
 engagement of Salamis, and rather to sail to the Peloponnesus 
 — the Greeks, failing of provisions and divided among them- 
 selves, would probably have dispersed. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 89 
 
 my will a force that may suffice to overthrow in Sparta its 
 grim and unnatural laws, to found amidst its rocks that 
 single throne which the son of a demi-god should ascend. 
 From that throne I would spread my empire over the whole 
 of Greece, Corinth and Athens being my tributaries. So 
 that, though men now, and posterity hereafter, may say, 
 ' Pausanias overthrew the Spartan government,' they shall 
 add, 'but Pausanias annexed to the Spartan sceptre the 
 realm of Greece. Pausanias was a tyrant, but not 'a traitor.' 
 How, O Persian, can these designs accord with the policy 
 of the Persian king ?" 
 
 " Not without the authority of my master can I answer 
 thee," replied Ariamanes, " so that my answer may be as 
 the king's signet to his decree. But so much at least I 
 say si that it is not the custom of the Persians to interfere 
 with the institutions of those states with which they are 
 connected. Thou desirest to make a monarchy of Greece, 
 with Sparta for its head. Be it so ; the king my master 
 will aid thee so to scheme and so to reign, provided thou 
 dost but concede to him a vase of the water from thy 
 fountains, a fragment of earth from thy gardens." 
 
 " In other words," said Pausanias, thoughtfully, but with 
 a slight color on his brow, " if I hold my dominions tribu- 
 tary to the king ?" 
 
 "The dominions that by the king's aid thou wilt have 
 conquered. Is that a hard law ?" 
 
 " To a Greek and a Spartan the very mimicry of alle- 
 giance to the foreigner is hard." 
 
 The Persian smiled. " Yet, if I understand thee aright, 
 
 8* 
 
90 PA0SANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 O Chief, even kings in Sparta are but subjects to their 
 people. Slave to a crowd at home, or tributary to a throne 
 abroad ; slave every hour, or tributary for earth and water 
 once a year, which is the freer lot ?" 
 
 " Thou canst not understand our Grecian notions," re- 
 plied Pausanias, " nor have I leisure to explain them. But 
 though I may subdue Sparta to myself as to its native 
 sovereign, I will not, even by a type, subdue the land of the 
 Heracleid to the Barbarian." 
 
 Ariamanes looked grave ; the diflBculty raised was serious. 
 And here the craft of Gongylus interposed. 
 
 " This may be adjusted, Ariamanes, as befits both parties. 
 Let Pausanias rule in Sparta as he lists, and Sparta stand 
 free of tribute. But for all other states and cities that 
 Pausanias, aided by the great king, shall conquer, let the 
 vase be filled, and the earth be Grecian. Let him but ren- 
 der tribute for those lands which the Persians submit to 
 his sceptre. So shall the pride of the Spartan be appeased, 
 and the claims of the king be satisfied." 
 
 " Shall it be so ?" said Pausanias. 
 
 " Instruct me so to propose to my master, and I will 
 do my best to content him with the exception to the wont- 
 ed rights of the Persian diadem. And then," continued 
 Ariamanes, " then, Pausanias, Conqueror of Mardonius, Cap- 
 tain at Plataea, thou art indeed a man with whom the lord 
 of Asia may treat as an equal. Greeks before thee have of- 
 fered to render Greece to the king my master ; but they were 
 exiles and fugitives, they had nothing to risk or lose ; thou 
 hast fame, and command, and power, and riches, and all — " 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 91 
 
 " But for a throne," interrupted Gongylus. 
 
 " It does not matter what may be my motives," returned 
 the Spartan, gloomily, " and were I to tell them, you might 
 not comprehend. But so much by way of explanation. 
 You too have held command 3" 
 
 "I have." 
 
 " If you knew that, when power became to you so sweet 
 that it was as necessary to life itself as food and drink, it 
 would then be snatched from you forever, and you would 
 serve as a soldier in the very ranks you had commanded as 
 a leader; if you knew that, no matter what your services, 
 your superiority, your desires, this shameful fall was inex- 
 orably doomed, might you not see humiliation in power 
 itself, obscurity in renown, gloom in the present, despair 
 in the future ? And would it not seem to you nobler even 
 to desert the camp than to sink into a subaltern ?" 
 
 " Such a prospect has in our country made out of good 
 subjects fierce rebels," observed the Persian. 
 
 "Ay, ay, I doubt it not," said Pausanias, laughing bit- 
 terly. " Well, then, such will be my lot, if I pluck not out 
 a fairer one from the Fatal Urn. As Eegent of Sparta, 
 while my nephew is beardless, I am general of her armies, 
 and I have the sway and functions of her king. When he 
 arrives at the customary age, I am a subject, a citizen, a 
 nothing, a miserable fool of memories gnawing my heart 
 away amidst joyless customs and stem austerities, with the 
 recollection of the glories of Plataea and the delights of 
 Byzantium. Persian, I am filled from the crown to the sole 
 with the desire of power, with the tastes of pleasure. I 
 
92 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 have that within me which before my time has made heroes 
 and traitors, raised demi-gods to heaven, or chained the 
 lofty Titans to the rocks of Hades. Something I may yet 
 be ; I know not what. But as the man never returns to the 
 boy, so never, never, never once more, can I be again the 
 Spartan subject. Enough ; such as I am, I can fulfill what 
 I have said to thee. Will thy king accept me as his ally, 
 and ratify the terms I have proposed ?" 
 
 "I feel well-nigh assured of it," answered the Persian; 
 " for since thou hast spoken thus boldly, I will answer thee 
 in the same strain. Know, then, that we of the pure race 
 of Persia, we the sons of those who overthrew the Mede, 
 and extended the race of the mountain tribe, from the 
 Scythian to the Arab, from Egypt to Ind, we at least 
 feel that no sacrifice were too great to redeem the dis- 
 grace we have suffered at the hands of thy countrymen; 
 and the world itself were too small an empire, too con- 
 fined a breathing -place, for the son of Darius, if this 
 nook of earth were still left without the pale of his do- 
 minion." 
 
 " This nook of earth 3 Ay, but Sparta itself must own 
 no lord but me." 
 
 " It is agreed." 
 
 " If I release thee, wilt thou bear these offers to the king, 
 traveling day and night till thou restest at the foot of his 
 throne ?" 
 
 " I should carry tidings too grateful to suffer me to loiter 
 by the road." 
 
 "And Datis, he comprehends us not ; but his eyes gUtter 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 93 
 
 fiercely on me. It is easy to see that thy comrade loves 
 not the Greek." 
 
 "For that reason he will aid us well. Though but a 
 Mede, and not admitted to the privileges of the Pasargadae, 
 his relationship to the most powerful and learned of our 
 Magi, and his own services in war, have won him such in- 
 fluence with both priests and soldiers that I would fain 
 have him as my companion. I will answer for his fidelity 
 to our joint object." 
 
 "Enough; ye are both free. Gongylus, you will now 
 conduct our friends to the place where the steeds await 
 them. You will then privately return to the citadel, and 
 give to their pretended escape the probable appearances we 
 devised. Be quick, while it is yet night. One word more. 
 Persian, our success depends upon thy speed. It is while 
 the Greeks are yet at Byzantium, while I yet am in com- 
 mand, that we. should strike the blow. If the king consent, 
 through Gongylus thou wilt have means to advise me. A 
 Persian army must march at once to the Phrygian confines, 
 instructed to yield command to me when the hour comes to 
 assume it. Delay not that aid by such vast and profitless 
 recruits as swelled the pomp, but embarrassed the arms, of 
 Xerxes. Armies too large rot by their own unwieldiness 
 into decay. A band of fifty thousand, composed solely of 
 the Medes and Persians, will more than sufiice. With 
 such an army, if my command be undisputed, I will win a 
 second Platsea, but against the Greek." 
 
 " Your suggestions shall be law. May Ormuzd favor the 
 bold!" 
 
94 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 "Away, Gongylus ! You know the rest." 
 
 Pausanias followed with thoughtful eyes the receding 
 forms of Gongylus and the Barbarians. "I have passed 
 forever," he muttered, "the pUlars of Hercules. I must 
 go on or perish. If I fall, I die execrated and abhorred; 
 if I succeed, the sound of the choral flutes will drown the 
 hootings. Be it as it may, I do not and will not repent. 
 If the wolf gnaw my entrails, none shall hear me groan." 
 He turned and met the eyes of Alcman, fixed on him so in- 
 tently, so exultingly, that, wondering at their strange ex- 
 pression, he drew back and said, haughtily, " You imitate 
 Medusa, but I am stone already." 
 
 " Nay," said the Mothon, in a voice of great humility, 
 " if you are of stone, it is like the divine one which, when 
 borne before armies, secures their victory. Blame me not 
 that I gazed on you with triumph and hope. For, while 
 you conferred with the Persian, methought the murmurs that 
 reached my ear sounded thus : ' When Pausanias shall rise, 
 Sparta shall bend low, and the Helot shall break his chains.' " 
 
 " They do not hate me, these Helots ?" 
 
 " You are the only Spartan they love." 
 
 " Were my life in danger from the Ephors — " 
 
 " The Helots would rise to a man." 
 
 " Did I plant my standard on Taygetus, though all Spar- 
 ta encamped against it — " 
 
 "All the slaves would cut their way to thy side. O Pau- 
 sanias, think how much nobler it were to reign over tens of 
 thousands who become freemen at thy word, than to be but 
 the equal of ten thousand tyrants." ^ 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN, 95 
 
 " The Helots fight well, when well led," said Fausanias, 
 as if to himself. " Launch the boat." 
 
 " Pardon me, Pausanias, but is it prudent any longer to 
 trast Lysander? He is the pattern of the Spartan youth, 
 and Sparta is his mistress. He loves her too well not to 
 blab to her every secret." 
 
 " Sparta, Sparta ! wilt thou not leave me one friend ?" 
 exclaimed Pausanias. " No, Alcman, I will not separate 
 myself from Lysander till I despair of his alliance. To your 
 oars ! Be quick !" 
 
 At the sound of tte Mothon's tread upon the pebbles, 
 Lysander, who had hitherto remained motionless, reclining 
 by the boat, rose and advanced toward Pausanias. There 
 was in his countenance, as the moon shining on it cast over 
 his statue-like features a pale and marble hue, so much of 
 anxiety, of affection, of fear, so much of the evident, un- 
 mistakable solicitude of friendship, that Pausanias, who, 
 like most men envied and unloved, was susceptible even of 
 the semblance of attachment, muttered to himself, "No, 
 thou wilt not desert me, nor I thee." 
 
 "My friend, my Pausanias," said Lysander, as he ap- 
 proached, "I hav6 had fears — I have seen omens. Un- 
 dertake nothing, I beseech thee, which thou hast meditated 
 this night." 
 
 "And what hast thou seen?" said Pausanias, with a 
 slight change of countenance. 
 
 " I was praying the gods for thee and Sparta, when a 
 star shot suddenly from the heavens. Pausanias, this is 
 
96 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAIT. 
 
 the eighth year, the year in -which on moonless, nights the 
 Ephors watch the heavens." 
 
 "And if a star fall, they judge their kings," interrupted 
 Pausanias (with a curl of his haughty lip), " to have offend- 
 ed the gods, and suspend them from their office tUl acquit- 
 ted by an oracle at Delphi, or a priest at Olympia. A wise 
 superstition. But, Lysander, the night is not moonless, and 
 the omen is therefore naught." 
 
 Lysander shook his head mournfully, and followed his 
 chieftain to the boat, in gloomy silence. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
PAtjSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 99 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 At noon tlie next day, not only the vessels in the harbor 
 presented the same appearance of inactivity and desertion 
 which had characterized the preceding evening, but the 
 camp itself seemed forsafeen. Pausanias had quit his ship 
 for the citadel, in which he took up his lodgment when on 
 shore ; and most of the officers and sailors of the squadron 
 were dispersed among the taverns and wine -shops, for 
 which, even at that day, Byzantium was celebrated. 
 
 It was in one of the lowest and most popular of these 
 latter resorts, and in a large and rude chamber, or rather 
 outhouse, separated from the rest of the building, that a 
 number of the Laconian Helots were assembled. Some of 
 these were employed as sailors, others were the military at- 
 tendants on the Regent and the Spartans who accompanied 
 him. 
 
 At the time we speak of, these unhappy beings were in 
 the full excitement of that wild and melancholy gayety 
 which is almost peculiar to slaves in their hours of recrea- 
 tion, and in which reaction of wretchedness modern writers 
 have discovered the indulgence of a native humor. Some 
 of them were drinking deep, wrangling, jesting, laughing 
 in loud discord over their cups. At another table rose the 
 deep voice of a singer, chanting one of those antique airs 
 
100 PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAN. 
 
 known but to these degraded sons of the Homeric Achsean, 
 and probably in its origin going beyond the date of the 
 Tale of Troy ; a song of gross and rustic buffoonery, but 
 ever and anon charged with some image or thought worthy 
 of that language of the universal Muses. His companions 
 listened with a rude delight to the rough voice and home- 
 ly sounds, and now and then interrupted the wassailers at 
 the other tables by cries for silence, which none regarded. 
 Here and there, with intense and fierce anxiety on their 
 faces, small groups were playing at dice; for gambling is 
 the passion of slaves. And many of these men, to whom 
 wealth could bring no comfort, had secretly amassed large 
 hoards at the plunder of Platsea, from which they had sold 
 to the traders of ^gina gold at the price of brass. The 
 appearance of the rioters was startling and melancholy. 
 They were mostly stunted and undersized, as are generally 
 the progeny of the sons of woe ; lean and gaunt with early 
 hardship, the spine of the back curved and bowed by habit- 
 ual degradation ; but with the hard-knit sinews and prom- 
 inent muscles which are produced by labor and the mount- 
 ain air; and under shaggy and lowering brows sparkled 
 many a fierce, perfidious, and malignant eye; while, as 
 mirth, or gaming, or song, aroused smiles in the various 
 groups, the rude features spoke of passions easily released 
 from the sullen bondage of servitude, and revealed the nat- 
 ure of the animals which thralldom had failed to tame. 
 Here and there, however, were to be seen forms, unlike the 
 rest, of stately stature, of fair proportions, wearing the di- 
 vine lineaments of Grecian beauty. From some of these a 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 101 
 
 higher nature, spoke out, not in mirth, that last mockery of 
 supreme woe, but in an expression of stern, grave, and dis- 
 dainful melancholy ; others, on the contrary, surpassed the 
 rest in vehemence, clamor, and exuberant extravagance of 
 emotion, as if their nobler physical development only served 
 to entitle them to that base superiority. For health and 
 vigor can make an aristocracy even among Helots. The 
 garments of these merry-makers increased the peculiar ef- 
 fect of their general appearance. The Helots in military 
 excursions naturally relinquished the rough sheep-skiu dress 
 that characterized their countrymen at home, the serfs of 
 the soil. The sailors had thrown off, for coolness, the leath- 
 ern jerkins they habitually wore, and, with their bare arms 
 and breasts, looked as if of a race that yet shivered, prim- 
 itive and unredeemed, on the outskirts of civilization. 
 
 Strangely contrasted with their rougher comrades were 
 those who, placed occasionally about the person of the Ke- 
 gent, were indulged with the loose and clean robes of gay 
 colors worn by the Asiatic slaves ; and these ever and anon 
 glanced at their finery with an air of conscious triumph. 
 Altogether, it was a sight that might well have appalled, by 
 its solemn lessons of human change, the poet who would 
 have beheld in that imbruted flock the descendants of the 
 race over whom Pelops, and Atreus, and Menelaus, and 
 Agamemnon, the king of men, had held their antique sway, 
 and might still more have saddened the philosopher who 
 believed, as Menander has nobly written, "that Nature 
 knows no slaves." 
 
 Suddenly, in the midst of the confused and uproarious 
 9* 
 
102 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 hubbub, the door opened, and Alcman the Mothon entered 
 the chamber. At this sight- the clamor ceased in an instant. 
 The party rose, as by a general impulse, and crowded round 
 the new-comer. 
 
 "My friends," said he, regarding them -vryih. the same 
 calm and frigid indifEerence which usually characterized his 
 demeanor, " you do well to make merry while you may, for 
 something tells me it will not last long. We shall return 
 to Lacedsemon. You look black. So, then, is there no 
 delight in the thought of home ?" 
 
 "ITome!" muttered one of the Helots, and the word, 
 sounding drearily on his lips, was echoed by many, so that 
 it circled like a groan. 
 
 " Ydt ye have your children as much as if ye were free," 
 said Alcman. 
 
 "And for that reason it pains us to see them play, un- 
 aware of the future," said a Helot of better mien than his 
 comrades. 
 
 " But do you know," returned the Mothon, gazing on the 
 last speaker steadily, " that for your children there may not 
 be a future fairer than that which your fathers knew ?" 
 
 " Tush !" exclaimed one of the unhappy men, old before 
 his time, and of an aspect singularly sullen and ferocious. 
 " Such have been your half hints and mystic prophecies for 
 years. What good comes of them? Was there ever an 
 oracle for Helots ?" 
 
 " There was no repute in the oracles even of Apollo," re- 
 turned Alcman, " till the Apollo-serving Dorians became con- 
 querors. Oracles are the children of victories." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE 8PAETAN. 103 
 
 " But there are no victories for us," said the first speaker, 
 mournfully. 
 
 " Never, if ye despair," said the Mothon, loftily. " What !" 
 he added, after a pause, looking round at the crowd, " what ! 
 do ye not see that hope dawned upon us from the hour 
 when thirty-five thousand of us were admitted as soldiers, 
 ay, and as conquerors, at Flataea ? From that moment we 
 knew our strength. Listen to me. At Samos once a thou- 
 "^ sand slaves — mark me, but a thousand — escaped the yoke, 
 seized on arms, fled to the mountains (we have mountains 
 even in Laconia), descended from time to time to devastate 
 the fields and to harass their ancient lords. By habit they 
 learned war, by desperation they grew indomitable. What 
 became of these slaves? Were they cut ofE? Did they 
 perish by hunger, by the sword, in the dungeon or field ? 
 No ; those brave men were the founders of, Ephesus."* 
 
 " But the Samians were not Spartans," mumbled the old 
 Helot. 
 
 "As ye will, as ye will," said Alcman, relapsing into his 
 usual coldness. " I wish you never to strike unless ye are 
 prepared to die or conquer." 
 
 " Some of us are," said the younger Helot 
 
 " Sacrifice a cock to the Fates, then." 
 
 " But why, think you," asked one of the Helots, " that 
 we shall be so soon summoned back to Laconia ?" 
 
 " Because while ye are drinking and idling here— drones 
 that ye are — there is commotion in the Athenian bee- 
 
 * Malacus op. Athen., 6. 
 
104 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 hive yonder. Know that Ariamanes the Persian, and Datis 
 the Mede, have escaped. The allies, especially the Athe- 
 nians, are excited and angry ; and many of them are already 
 come in a body to Pausanias, whom they accuse of abetting 
 the escape of the fugitives." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well, and if Pausanias does not give honey in his 
 words — and few flowers grow on his lips — the bees will 
 sting, that is all. A trireme will be dispatched to Sparta 
 with complaints. Pausanias will be recalled — perhaps his 
 life endangered." 
 
 " Endangered !" echoed several voices. 
 
 "Yes. What is that to you — what care you for his 
 danger 1 He is a Spartan." 
 
 " Ay," cried one ; " but he has been kind to the Helots." 
 
 " And we have fought by his side," said another. 
 
 "And he dressed my wound with his own hand," mur- 
 mured a third. 
 
 "And we have got money under him," growled a fourth. 
 
 " And, more than all," said Alcman, in a loud voice, " if 
 he lives, he will break down the Spartan government. Ye 
 wUl not let this man die ?" 
 
 " Never !" exclaimed the whole assembly. Alcman gazed 
 with a kind of calm and strange contempt on the flashing 
 eyes, the fiery gestures, of the throng, and then said, coldlyi 
 
 " So, then, ye would fight for one man ?" 
 
 "Ay, ay, that would we." 
 
 " But not for your own liberties, and those of your chil- 
 dren unborn ?" 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 105 
 
 There was a dead silence ; but the tauBt was felt, and its 
 logic was already at work in many of these rugged breasts. 
 
 At this moment, the door was suddenly thrown open ; 
 and a Helot, in the dress worn by the attendants of the Ke- 
 gent, entered, breathless and panting. 
 
 " Alcman ! the gods be praised, you are here. Pausanias 
 commands your presence. Lose not a moment. And you 
 too, comrades, by Demeter ! do you mean to spend whole 
 days at your cups? Come to the citadel; ye may be 
 wanted." 
 
 This was spoken to such of the Helots as belonged to 
 the train of Pausanias. 
 
 " Wanted — what for ?" said one. " Pausanias gives us a 
 holiday while he employs the sleek Egyptians." 
 
 "Who that serves Pausanias ever asks that question, 
 or can foresee from one hour to another what he may be 
 required to do?" returned the self-important messenger, 
 with great contempt. Meanwhile the Mothon, all whose 
 movements were peculiarly silent and rapid, was already on 
 his way to the citadel. The distance was not inconsider- 
 able, but Alcman was swift of foot. Tightening the girdle 
 round his waist, he swung himself, as it were, into a kind 
 of run, which, though not seemingly rapid, cleared the 
 ground with a speed almost rivaling that of the ostrich, 
 from the length of the stride and the extreme regularity of 
 the pace. Such was at that day the method by which 
 messages were dispatched from state to state, especially in 
 mountainous countries; and the length of way which was 
 performed, without stopping, by the foot -couriers might 
 
 6* 
 
106 PAUSANIiS, THE SPARTAN, 
 
 startle the best-trained pedestrians in our times. So swift- 
 ly, indeed, did the Mothon pursue Ms course, tliat just by 
 the citadel lie came up with the Grecian captains who, be- 
 fore he joined the Helots, had set off for their audience 
 with Pausanias. There were some fourteen or fifteen of 
 them, and they so fiUed up the path, which, just there, was 
 not broad, that Alcman was obUged to pause as he came 
 upon their rear. 
 
 "And whither so fast, fellow?" said Uliades the Samian, 
 turning round as he heard the strides of the Mothon. 
 
 " Please you, master, I am bound to the General." 
 
 " Oh, his slave ! Is he going to free you ?" 
 
 " I am already as free as a man who has no city can be." 
 
 "Pithy. The Spartan slaves have the dryness of their 
 masters. How, sirrah ! do you jostle me ?" 
 
 " I crave pardon. I only seek to pass." 
 
 " Never ! to take precedence of a Samian, Keep back." 
 
 "I dare not." 
 
 " Nay, nay, let him pass," said the young Chian, Antag- 
 oras; "he will get scourged if he is too late. Perhaps, 
 like the Persians, Pausanias wears false hair, and wishes the- 
 slave to dress it in honor of us," 
 
 "Hush!" whispered an Athenian. "Are these taunt& 
 prudent ?" 
 
 Here there suddenly broke forth a loud oath from 
 Uliades, who, lingering a little behind the rest, had laid 
 rough hands on the Mothon, as the latter once more at- 
 tempted to pass him. With a dexterous and abrupt agility, 
 Alcman had extricated himself from the Samian's grasp. 
 
PAUSAWIASj THE SPARTAN. 107 
 
 but with a force that swung the captain on his knee. 
 Taking advantage of the position of the foe, the Mothon 
 darted onward, and, threading the rest of the party, dis- 
 appeared through the neighboring gates of the citadel. 
 
 " You saw the insult 3" said TJliades, between his ground 
 teeth, as he recovered himself. " The master shall answer 
 for the slave ; and to me, too, who have forty slaves of my 
 own at home !" 
 
 " Pooh 1 think no more of it," said Antagoras, gayly ; 
 " the poor fellow meant only to save his own hide." 
 
 "As if that were of any consequence! My slaves are 
 brought up from the cradle not to know if they have hides 
 or not. You may pinch them by the hour together, and 
 they don't feel you. My little ones do it, in rainy weather, 
 to strengthen their fingers. The gods keep them !" 
 
 "An excellent gymnastic invention. But we are now 
 within the citadel. Courage ! The Spartan greyhound has 
 long teeth." 
 
 Pausanias was striding with hasty steps up and down a 
 long and narrow peristyle or colonnade that surrounded 
 the apartments appropriated to his private use, when A1&- 
 man joined him. 
 
 " Well, well," cried he, eagerly, as he saw the Mothon, 
 " you have mingled with the common gangs of these wor- 
 shipful seamen, these new men, these lonians. Think you 
 they have so far overcome their awe of the Spartan that 
 they would obey the mutinous commands of their officers ?" 
 
 " Pausanias, the truth must be spoken — ^Yes !" 
 
 " Ye gods ! one would think each of these wranglers im- 
 
108 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 agined lie had a whole Persian army in his boat. Why, I 
 have seen the day when, if in any assembly of Greeks a 
 Spartan entered, the sight of his very hat and walking-staff 
 cast a terror through the whole conclave." 
 
 " True, Pausanias ; but they suspect that Sparta herself 
 will disown her General." 
 
 "Ah! say they so?" 
 
 " With one voice." 
 
 Pausanias paused a moment in deep and perturbed 
 thought. 
 
 " Have they dared yet, think you, to send to Sparta ?" 
 
 " I hear not ; but a trireme is in readiness to sail after 
 your conference with the captains." 
 
 " So, Alcman, it were ruin- to my schemes to be recalled 
 — until — until — " 
 
 " The hour to join the Persians on the frontier — yes." 
 
 " One word more. Have you had occasion to sound the 
 Helots?" 
 
 "But half an hour since. They will be true to you. 
 Lift your right hand, and the ground where you stand will 
 bristle with men who fear death even less than the Spar- 
 tans." 
 
 "Their aid were useless here against the whole Grecian 
 fleet; but in the defiles of Laconia, otherwise. I am pre- 
 pared, then, for the worst, even recall." 
 
 Here a slave crossed from a kind of passage that led from 
 the outer chambers into the peristyle. 
 
 "The Grecian Captains have arrived to demand audi- 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 109 
 
 " Bid them wait," cried Pausanias, passionately. 
 
 " Hist ! Pausanias," whispered the Mothon. " Is it not 
 best to soothe them — to play with them — to cover the lion 
 with the fox's hide?" 
 
 The Regent turned with a frown to his foster-brother, 
 as if surprised and irritated by his presumption in advising ; 
 and indeed of late, since Pausanias had admitted the son of 
 the Helot into his guilty intrigues, Alcman had assumed a 
 bearing and tone of equality which Pausanias, wrapped in 
 his dark schemes, did not always notice, but at which from 
 time to time he chafed angrily, yet again permitted it, and 
 the custom gained ground; for in guilt conventional dis- 
 tinctions rapidly vanish, and mind speaks freely out to 
 mind. The presence of the slave, however, restrained him, 
 and after a momentary silence his natural acuteness, great 
 when undisturbed by passion or pride, made him sensible 
 of the wisdom of Alcman's counsel. 
 
 "Hold!" he said to the slave. "Announce to the 
 Grecian Chiefs that Pausanias will await them forthwith. 
 Begone ! Now, Alcman, I will talk over these gentle mon- 
 itors. Not in vain have I been educated in Sparta ; yet if 
 by chance I fail, hold thyself ready to haste to Sparta at a 
 minute's warning. I must forestall the foe. I have gold, 
 gold ; and he who employs most of the yellow orators will 
 prevail most with the Ephors. Give me my stafE ; and tar- 
 ry in yon chamber to the left.'' 
 
 10 
 
110 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 In a large hall, with a marble fountain in the middle of 
 it, the Greek Captains awaited the coming of Pausanias. 
 A low and muttered conversation was carried on among 
 them, in small knots and groups, amidst which the voice 
 of Uliades was heard the loudest. Suddenly the hum was 
 hushed, for footsteps were heard without. The thick cur- 
 tains that at one extreme screened the door-way were drawn 
 aside, and, attended by three of the Spartan knights, among 
 whom was Lysander, and by two soothsayers, who were sel- 
 dom absent, in war or warlike council, from the side of the 
 Royal Heracleid, Pausanias slowly entered the hall. So 
 majestic, grave, and self-collected were the bearing and as- 
 pect of the Spartan General, that the hereditary awe in- 
 spired by his race was once more awakened, and the angry 
 crowd saluted him, silent and half abashed. Although the 
 strong passions and the daring arrogance of Pausanias did 
 not allow him the exercise of that enduring, systematic, un- 
 sleeping hypocrisy which, in relations with the foreigner, 
 often characterized his countrymen, and which, from its 
 outward dignity and profound craft, exalted the vice into 
 genius ; yet, trained from earliest childhood in the arts that 
 hide design, that control the countenance, and convey in 
 the fewest words the most ambiguous meanings, the Spar- 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. Ill 
 
 tan Greneral could, for a brief period, or for a critical pur- 
 pose, command all the wiles for wMcli tte Greek was na- 
 tionally famous, and in which Thucydides believed that, of 
 all Grreeks, the Spartan was the most skillful adept. And 
 now, as, uniting the courtesy of the host with the dignity 
 of the chief, he returned the salute of the officers, and 
 smiled his gracious welcome, the unwonted affability of his 
 manner took the discontented by surprise, and half propiti- 
 ated the most indignant in his favor. 
 
 " I need not ask you, O Greeks," said he, why ye have 
 sought me. Ye have learned the escape of Ariamanes and 
 Datis — a strange and unaccountable mischance." 
 
 The captains looked round at each other in silence, tiU 
 at last every eye rested upon Cimon, whose illustrious birth, 
 as well as his known respect for Sparta, combined with 
 his equally well-known dislike of her chief, seemed to 
 mark him, despite his youth, as the fittest person to be 
 speaker for the rest. Cimon, who understood the mute ap- 
 peal, and whose courage never failed his ambition, raised 
 his head, and, after a moment's hesitation, replied to the 
 Spartan : 
 
 "Pausanias, you guess rightly the cause which leads us 
 to your presence. These prisoners were our noblest ; their 
 capture the reward of our common valor; they were gen- 
 erals, moreover, of high skill and repute. They had become 
 experienced in our Grecian warfare, even by their defeats. 
 Those two men, should Xerxes again invade Greece, are 
 worth more to his service than half the nations whose 
 myriads crossed the Hellespont. But this is not all. The 
 
112 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 anns of tte Barbarians we can encounter undismayed. It 
 is treason at home which can alone appall us." 
 
 There was a low murmur among the lonians at these 
 words. Pausanias, with well -dissembled surprise on his 
 countenance, turned his eyes from Cimon to the murmur- 
 ers, and from them again to Cimon, and repeated, 
 
 " Treason ! son of MUtiades ; and from whom ?" 
 
 " Such is the question that we would put to thee, Pausa- 
 nias — to thee, whose eyes, as leader of our armies, are doubt- 
 less vigilant daily and nightly over the interests of Greece." 
 
 " I am not blind," returned Pausanias, appearing uncon- 
 scious of the irony; "but I am not Argus. If thou hast 
 discovered aught that is hidden from me, speak boldly." 
 
 "Thou hast made Gongylus the Eretrian governor of 
 Byzantium ; for what great services we know not. But he 
 has lived much in Persia." 
 
 " For that reason, on this the frontier of her domains, he 
 is better enabled to penetrate her designs and counteract 
 her ambition." 
 
 " This Gongylus," continued Cimon, " is well known to 
 have much frequented the Persian captives in their confine- 
 ment." 
 
 "In order to learn from them what may yet be the 
 strength of the king. In this he had my commands." 
 
 " I question it not. But, Pausanias," continued Cimon, 
 raising his voice, and with energy, "had he also thy com- 
 mands to leave thy galley last night, and to return to the 
 citadel «" 
 
 "He had. What then?" 
 
PAUSANIAB, THE SPARTAN. 113 
 
 "And on his return the Persians disappear — a singular 
 chance, truly. But that is not all. Last night, before he 
 returned to the citadel, Gongylus was perceived, alone, in a 
 retired spot on the outskirts of the city." 
 
 "Alone?" echoed Pausanias. 
 
 "Alone. If he had companions, they were not discerned. 
 This spot was out of the path he should have taken. By 
 this spot, on the soft soil, are the marks of hoofs, and in 
 the thicket close by were found these witnesses ;" and 
 Cimon drew from his vest a handful of the pearls only 
 worn by the Eastern captives. 
 
 " There is something in this," said Xanthippus, " which 
 requires at least examination. May it please you, Pausar 
 nias, to summon Gongylus hither ?" 
 
 A momentary shade passed over the brow of the con- 
 ispirator, but the eyes of the Greeks were on him, and to 
 refuse were as dangerous as to comply. He turned to one 
 of his Spartans, and ordered him to summon the Eretrian. 
 
 " You have spoken well, Xanthippus. This matter must 
 be sifted." 
 
 With that, motioning the captains to the seats that 
 
 were ranged round the walls and before a long table, he 
 
 cast himself into a large chair at the head of the table, and 
 
 waited in silent anxiety the entrance of the Eretrian. His 
 
 whole trust now was in the craft and penetration of his 
 
 friend. If the courage or the cunning of Gongylus failed 
 
 him — if but a word betrayed him — Pausanias was lost. 
 
 He was girt by men who hated him ; and he read in the 
 
 dark, fierce eyes of the lonians — whose pride he had so 
 io» H 
 
114 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 often galled, whose revenge he had so carelessly provoked 
 — the certainty of ruin. One hand hidden within the folds 
 of his robe convulsively clenched the flesh, in the stern ago- 
 ny of his suspense. His calm and composed face neverthe- 
 less exhibited to the captains no trace of fear. 
 
 The draperies were again drawn aside, and Gongylus 
 slowly entered. 
 
 Habituated to peril of every kind from his earliest youth, 
 the Eretrian was quick to detect its presence. The sight of 
 the ^ilent Greeks, formally seated round the hall, and watch- 
 ing his steps and countenance with eyes whose jealous and 
 vindictive meaning it required no (Edipus to read; the 
 grave and half -averted brow of Pausanias ; and the angry 
 excitement that had prevailed amidst the host at the news 
 of the escape of the Persians — all sufficed to apprise hini of 
 the nature of the council to which he had been summoned. 
 
 Supporting himself on his stafi, and dragging his limbs 
 tardily along, he had leisure to examine, though with ap- 
 parent indifEerence, the whole group; and when, with a 
 calm salutation, he arrested his steps at the foot of the table 
 immediately facing Pausanias, he darted one glance at the 
 Spartan, so fearless, so bright, so cheering, that Pausanias 
 breathed hard, as if a load were thrown from his breast, 
 and, turning easily toward Cimon, said, 
 
 " Behold your witness. "Which of us shall be questioner, 
 and which judge 3" 
 
 "That matters but little," returned Cimon. "Before 
 this audience justice must force its way." 
 
 " It rests with you, Pausanias," said Xanthippus, " to ac- 
 
PAUSANIA8, THE SPARTAN. 115 
 
 quaint the Governor of Byzantium with the suspicions he 
 has excited." 
 
 "Gongylus," said Pausanias, "the captive Barbarians, 
 Ariamanes and Datis, were placed by me especially under 
 thy vigilance and guard. Thou knowest that, while (for 
 humanity becomes the victor) I ordered thee to vex them 
 by no undue restraints,- 1 nevertheless commanded thee to 
 consider thy life itself answerable for their durance. They 
 have escaped. The Captains of Greece demand of thee, as 
 I demanded — by what means — by what connivance ? Speak 
 the truth, and deem that in falsehood, as well as in treach. 
 ery, detection is easy, and death certain." 
 
 The tone of Pausanias, and his severe look, pleased and 
 re-assured all the Greeks, except the wiser Cimon, who, 
 though his suspicions were a little shaken, continued to fix 
 his eyes rather on Pausanias than on the Eretrian. 
 
 "Pausanias," replied Gongylus, drawing up his lean 
 frame, as with the dignity of conscious innocence, " that 
 suspicion could fall upon me, I find it diiBcult to suppose; 
 Eaised by thy favor to the command of Byzantium, what 
 have I to gain by treason or neglect? These Persians — I 
 knew them well. I had known them in Susa — known them 
 when I served Darius, being then an exile from Eretria. 
 Ye know, my countrymen, that when Darius invaded Greece 
 I left his court and armies, and sought my native land, to 
 fall or to conquer in its cause. Well, then, I knew these 
 Barbarians. I sought them frequently ; partly, it may be, 
 to return to them in their adversity the courtesies shown 
 me in mine. Ye are Greeks : ye will not condemn me for 
 
116 PAUSANIAB, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 humanity and gratitude. Partly with another motive. I 
 knew that Ariamanes had the greatest influence over Xerx- 
 es. I knew that the great king would at any cost seek to 
 regain the liberty of his friend. I urged upon Ariamanes 
 the wisdom of a peace with the Greeks even on their own 
 terms. I told him that when Xerxes sent to ofier the ran- 
 som, conditions of peace would avail more than sacks of 
 gold. He listened and approved. Did I wrong in this, 
 Pausanias ? No ; for thou, whose deep sagacity has made 
 thee condescend even to appear half Persian, because thou 
 art all Greek — thou thyself didst sanction my efiorts on htr 
 half of Greece." 
 
 Pausanias looked with a silent triumph round the con- 
 clave, and Xanthippus nodded approval. 
 
 " In order to conciliate them, and with too great confi- 
 dence in their faith, I relaxed by degrees the rigor of their 
 confinement ; that was a fault, I own it. Their apartments 
 communicated with a court in which I suffered them to 
 walk at will. But I placed there two sentinels in whom I 
 deemed I could repose all trust — not my own countrymen 
 — not Eretrians — not thy Spartans or Laconians, Pausanias. 
 No ; I deemed that if ever the jealousy (a laudable jealousy) 
 of the Greeks should demand an account of my faith and 
 vigilance, my witnesses should be the countrymen of those 
 who have ever the most suspected me. Those sentinels 
 were, the one a Samian, the other a Platsean. These men 
 have betrayed me and Greece. Last night, on returning 
 hither from the vessel, I visited the Persians. They were 
 about to retire to rest, and I quit them soon, suspecting 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 117 
 
 nothing. This morning they had fled, and with them their 
 abettors, the sentinels. I hastened, first, to send soldiers in 
 search of them ; and, secondly, to inform Pausanias in his 
 galley. K I have erred, I submit me to your punishment. 
 Punish my error, but acquit my honesty." 
 
 "And what," said Cimon, abruptly, "led thee far from 
 thy path, between the Heracleid's galley and the citadel, to - 
 the fields near the temple of Aphrodite, between the citadel 
 and the bay? Thy color changes. Mark him, Greeks. 
 Quick ; thine answer." 
 
 The countenance of Gongylus had indeed lost its color 
 and hardihood. The loud tone of Cimon — the effect his 
 confusion produced on the Greeks, some of whom, the loni- 
 ans, less self-possessed and dignified than the rest, half rose, 
 with fierce gestures and muttered exclamations — served still 
 more to embarrass and intimidate him. He cast ''a hasty 
 look on Pausanias, who averted his eyes. There was a 
 pause. The Spartan gave himself up for lost; but how 
 much more was his fear increased when Gongylus, casting 
 an imploring gaze upon the Greeks, said, hesitatingly, 
 
 " Question me no further. I dare not speak ;" and as he 
 spoke he pointed to Pausanias. 
 
 " It was the dread of thy resentment, Pausanias," said 
 Cimon, coldly, "that withheld his confession. Vouchsafe 
 to re-assure him." 
 
 "Eretrian," said Pausanias, striking his clenched hand 
 on the table, " I know not what tale trembles on thy lips ; 
 but, be it what it may, give it voice, I conunand thee." 
 
 " Thou thyself, thou wert the cause that led me to- 
 
118 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAJT. 
 
 ward the temple of Aphrodite," said Gongylus, in a low 
 voice. 
 
 At these words there went forth a general deep-breathed 
 murmur. With one accord every Greek rose to his feet. 
 The Spartan attendants in the rear of Fausanias drew closer 
 to his person; but there was nothing in their faces — yet 
 more dark and vindictive than those of the other Greeks — 
 that promised protection. Pausanias alone remained seated 
 and unmoved. His imminent danger gave him back all his 
 valor, all his pride, all his passionate and profound disdain. 
 With unbleached cheek, with haughty eyes, he met the gaze 
 of the assembly ; and then waving his hand as if that gest- 
 ure sufficed to restrain and awe them, he said, 
 
 " In the name of all Greece, whose chief I yet am, whose 
 protector I have once been, I command ye to resume your 
 seats, and listen to the Eretrian. Spartans, fall back. Gov- 
 ernor of Byzantium, pursue your tale." 
 
 " Yes, Pausanias," resumed Gongylus, " you alone were 
 the cause that drew me from my rest I would fain be si- 
 lent, but—" 
 
 " Say on !" cried Pausanias, fiercely, and measuring the 
 space between himself and Gongylus, in doubt whether the 
 Eretrian's head were within reach of his cimeter ; so at least 
 Gongylus interpreted that freezing look of despair and 
 vengeance, and he drew back some paces. " I place myself, 
 Greeks, under your protection ; it is dangerous to reveal 
 the errors of the great. Know that, as Governor of Byzanti- 
 um, many things ye wot not of reach my ears. Hence, I guard 
 against dangers while ye sleep. Learn, then, that Pausanias 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAiT. 119 
 
 is not without the weakness of his ancestor, Alcides; he 
 loves a maiden — a Byzantine — Cleonice, the daughter of 
 Di^oras." 
 
 This unexpected announcement, made in so grave a tone, 
 provoked a smile among the gay lonians ; hut an exclama- 
 tion of jealous anger broke from Antagoras, and a blush, 
 partly of wounded pride, partly of warlike shame, crimsoned 
 the swarthy cheek of Pausanias. Cimon, who was by no 
 means free from the joyous infirmities of youth, relaxed his 
 severe brow, and said, after a short pause, 
 
 " Is it, then, among the grave duties of the Governor of 
 Byzantium tojwatch over the fair Cleonice, or to aid the 
 suit of her illustrious lover i'* 
 
 "Not so," answered Gongylus; "but the life of the 
 Grecian General is dear, at least, to the grateful Governor 
 of Byzantium. Greeks, ye know that among you Pausa- 
 nias has many foes. Ketuming last night from his pres- 
 ence, and passing through the thicket, I overheard voices *at 
 hand. I caught the name of Pausanias. ' The Spartan,' 
 said one voice, ' nightly visits the house of Diagoras. He 
 goes usually alone. From the height near the temple we 
 can watch well, for the night is clear ; if he goes alone, we 
 can intercept his way on his return.' 'To the height!' 
 cried the other. I thought to distinguish the voic'es, but 
 the trees hid the speakers. I followed the footsteps to- 
 ward the temple, for it behooved me to learn who thus 
 menaced the chief of Greece. But ye know that the wood 
 reaches even to the sacred building, and the steps gained 
 the temple before I could recognize the men. I concealed 
 
120 PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAIT. 
 
 inyself , as I thought, to watcli ; but it seems that I was 
 perceived, for he who saw me, and now accuses, was doubt- 
 less one of the assassins. Happy I, if the sight of a witness 
 scared him from the crime. Either fearing detection, or 
 aware that their intent that night was frustrated — for Pau- 
 sanias, visiting Cleonice earlier than his wont, had already 
 resought his galley — the men retreated as they came, un- 
 seen, not unheard. I caught their receding steps through 
 the brush-wood. Greets, I have said. Who is my accuser ? 
 in him behold the would-be murderer of Pausanias !" 
 
 " Liar !" cried an indignant and loud voice among the 
 captains, and Antagoras stood forth from the circle. 
 
 " It is who saw thee. Darest thou accuse Antagoras of 
 Chios?" 
 
 " What at that hour brought Antagoras of Chios to the 
 Temple of Aphrodite ?" retorted Gongylus. 
 
 The eyes of the Greeks turned toward the young cap- 
 tain, and there was confusion on his face. But, recover- 
 ing himself quickly, the Chian answered, " Why should I 
 blush to own it? Aphrodite is no dishonorable deity to 
 the men of the Ionian Isles. I sought the temple at that 
 hour, as is our wont, to make my ofEering and record my 
 prayer." 
 
 "Certainly," said Cimon. "We must own that, Aphro- 
 dite is powerful at Byzantium. Who can acquit Pausanias 
 and blame Antagoras ?" 
 
 "Pardon me — one question," said Gongylus. "Is not 
 the female heart which Antagoras would beseech the god- 
 dess to softeii toward him that of the Cleonice of whom we 
 
PAUBANIA8, THE SPARTAW. 121 
 
 spote? See, he denies it not. Greeks, the Chians are 
 warm lovers, and warm lovers are revengeful rivals." 
 
 This artful speech had its instantaneous effect amopg 
 the younger and more unthinking loiterers. Those who 
 at once would have disbelieved the imputed guilt of Aritag- 
 oras upon motives merely political, inclined to a suggestion 
 that ascribed it to the jealousy of a lover. And his char- 
 acter, ardent and fiery, rendered the suspicion yet more 
 plausible. Meanwhile the minds of the audience had been 
 craftily drawn from the grave and main object of the meet- 
 ing — the flight of the Persians — alnd a lighter and livelier 
 curiosity had supplanted the eager and dark resentment 
 which had hitherto animated the circle. Pausanias, with 
 the subtle genius that belonged to him, hastened to seize 
 advantage of the momentary diversion in his favor, and 
 before the Chian could recover from his consternation, both 
 at the charge and the evident effect it had produced upon 
 a part of the assembly, the Spartan stretched his hand, and 
 spake. 
 
 " Greeks, Pausanias listens to no tale of danger to him- 
 self. Willingly he believes that Gongylus either misinter- 
 preted the intent of some jealous and heated threats, or 
 that the words he overheard were not uttered by Antagoras. 
 Possible is it, too, that others may have sought the temple 
 with less gentle desires than our Chian ally. Let this pass. 
 Unworthy such matters of the councils of bearded men ; 
 too much reference has been made to those follies which 
 our idleness has given birth to. Let no fair Briseis renew 
 strife among chiefs and soldiers. Excuse not thyself, An- 
 il 6 
 
122 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 tagoras ; we dismiss all charge against thee. On the other 
 hand, Gongylus will doubtless seem to you to have account- 
 ed for his appearance near the precincts of the temple. 
 And it is but a coincidence, natural enough, that the Per- 
 sian prisoners should have chosen, later in the night, the 
 same spot for the steeds to await them. The thickness of 
 the wood round the temple, and the direction of the place 
 toward the east, points out the neighborhood as the very 
 one in which the fugitives would appoint the horses. 
 Waste no further time, but provide at once for the pursuit. 
 To you, Cimon, be this case confided. Already have I dis- 
 patched fifty light -armed men on fleet Thessalian steeds. 
 You, Cimon, increase the number of the pursuers. The 
 prisoners may be yet recaptured. Doth aught else remain 
 worthy of our ears ? If so, speak ; if not, depart." 
 
 "Pausanias," said Antagoras, firmly, "let Gongylus re- 
 tract, or not, his charge against me, I retain mine against 
 Gongylus. Wholly false is it that in word or deed I plot- 
 ted violence against thee, though of much — not as Cleo- 
 nice's lover, but as Grecian captain — I have good reason 
 to complain. Wholly false is it that I had a comrade. I 
 was alone. And coming out from the temple, where I had 
 hung my chaplet, I perceived Gongylus clearly under the 
 starlit skies. He stood in listening attitude close by the 
 sacred myrtle grove. I hastened toward him, but me- 
 thinks he saw me not; he turned slowly, penetrated the 
 wood, and vanished. I gained the spot on the soft sward 
 which the dropping boughs make ever humid. I saw the 
 print of hoofs. Within the thicket I found the pearls that 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 123 
 
 Cimon has displayed to you. Clear, then, is it that this 
 man lies — clear that the Persians must have fled already — 
 although Gongylus declares that on his return to the citadel 
 he visited them in their prison. Explain this, Eretrian !" 
 
 " He who would speak false witness," answered Gongylus, 
 with a firmness equal to the Chian's, " can find pearls at 
 whatsoever hour he pleases. Greeks, this man presses me to 
 renew the charge which Pausanias generously sought to 
 stifle. I have said. And I, Governor of Byzantium, call 
 on the council of the Grecian Leaders to maintain my au- 
 thority, and protect their own Chief." 
 
 Then arose a vexed and perturbed murmur, most of the 
 lonians siding with Antagoras, such of the allies as yet 
 clung to the Dorian ascendency grouping round Gongylus. 
 
 The persistence of Antagoras had made the dilemma of 
 no slight embarrassment to Pausanias. Something lofty in 
 his original nature urged him to shrink from supporting 
 Gongylus in an accusation which he believed untrue. On 
 the other hand, he could not abandon his accomplice in an 
 effort, as dangerous as it was crafty, to conceal their com- 
 mon guilt. 
 
 " Son of Miltiades," he said, after a brief pause, in which 
 his dexterous resolution was formed, " I invoke your aid to 
 appease a contest in which I foresee no result but that of 
 schism among ourselves. Antagoras has no witness to sup- 
 port his tale, Gongylus none to support his own. Who 
 shall decide between conflicting testimonies which rest 
 but on the lips of accuser and accused? Hereafter, if the 
 matter be deemed sufficiently grave, let us refer the decision 
 
124 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 to the oracle that never errs. Time and chance meanwhile 
 may favor us in clearing up the darkness we can not now 
 penetrate. For you, Governor of Byzantium, it behooves 
 me to say that the escape of prisoners intrusted to your 
 charge justifies vigilance, if not suspicion. We shall con- 
 sult at our leisure whether or not that course suffices to 
 remove you from the government of Byzantium. Heralds, 
 advance ; our council is dissolved." 
 
 With these words Pausanias rose, and the majesty of his 
 bearing, with the unwonted temper and conciliation of his 
 language, so came in aid of his high office, that no man 
 ventured a, dissentient murmur. 
 
 The conclave broke up, and not till its members had gain- 
 ed the outer air did any signs of suspicion or dissatisfaction 
 evince themselves ; but then, gathering in groups, the loni- 
 ans with especial jealousy discussed what had passed, and 
 with their native shrewdness ascribed the moderation of 
 Pausanias to his desire to screen Gongylus and avoid fur- 
 ther inquisition into the flight of the prisoners. The dis- 
 contented looked round for Gimon, but the young Athenian 
 had hastily retired from the throng, and, after issuing or- 
 ders to pursue the fugitives, sought Aiistides in the house 
 near the quay in which he lodged. 
 
 Cimon related to his friend what had passed at the meet- 
 ing, and, terminating his recital, said, 
 
 " Thou shouldst have been with us. With thee we might 
 have ventured more." 
 
 "And if so," returned the wise Athenian, with a smile, 
 " ye would have prospered less. Precisely because I would 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 125 
 
 not commit our country to the suspicion of fomenting in- 
 trigues and mutiny to her own advantage, did I abstain 
 from the assembly, well aware that Pausanias would bring 
 his minion harmless from the unsupported accusation of 
 Antagoras. Thou hast acted with cool judgment, Cimon. 
 The Spartan is weaving the webs of the Parcae for his own 
 feet. Leave him to weave on, undisturbed. The hour in 
 which Athens shall assume the sovereignty of the seas is 
 drawing near. Let it come, like Jove's thunder, in a calm 
 sky." 
 
 11» 
 
126 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAU. 
 
 CHAPTER III, 
 
 Pausanias did not that night quit the city. After the 
 meeting, he held a private conference with the Spartan 
 Equals, whom custom and the government assigned, in ap- 
 pearance as his attendants, in reality as witnesses, if not 
 spies, of his conduct. Though every pure Spartan, as com- 
 pared with the subject Laconian population, was noble, the 
 republic acknowledged two main distinctions in class — 
 the higher, entitled Equals, a word which we might not 
 inaptly and more intelligibly render Peers ; the lower, In- 
 feriors. These distinctions, though hereditary, were not im- 
 mutable. The peer could be degraded, the inferior could 
 become a peer. To the royal person in war three peers 
 were allotted. Those assigned to Pausanias, of the tribe 
 called the Hylleans, were naturally of a rank and influence 
 that constrained him to treat them with a certain deference, 
 which perpetually chafed .his pride and confirmed his dis- 
 content; for these three men were precisely of the mold 
 which at heart he most despised. Polydorus, the first in 
 rank — for, like Pausanias, he boasted his descent from 
 Hercules — was the personification of the rudeness and 
 bigotry of a Spartan who had never before stirred from 
 his rocky home, and who disdained all that he could not 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAIT. 127 
 
 compreliend. Gelon, the second, passed for a very wise 
 man, for lie seldom spoke but in monosyllables ; yet, prob- 
 ably, his words were as numerous as his ideas. Cleom- 
 enes, the third, was as distasteful to the Kegent from his 
 merits as the others from their deficiencies. He had risen 
 from the grade of the Inferiors by his valor : blunt, homely, 
 frank, sincere, he never disguised his displeasure at the 
 manner of Pausanias ; though a true Spartan in discipline, 
 he never transgressed the respect which his chief command- 
 ed in time of war. 
 
 Pausanias knew that these officers were in correspondence 
 with Sparta, and he now exerted all his powers to remove 
 from their minds any suspicion which the disappearance of 
 the prisoners might have left in them. 
 
 In this interview he displayed all those great natural 
 powers which, rightly trained and guided, might have made 
 him not less great in council than in war. With masterly 
 precision he enlarged on the growing ambition of Athens, 
 on the disposition in her favor evinced by all the Ionian 
 confederates. " Hitherto," he said truly, " Sparta has uni- 
 formly held rank as the first state of Greece; the leader- 
 ship of the Greeks belongs to us by birth and renown. But 
 see you not that the war is now shifting from land to sea ? 
 Sea is not our element ; it is that of Athens, of all the Io- 
 nian race. If this continue, we lose our ascendency, and 
 Athens becomes the sovereign of Hellas. Beneath the calm 
 of Aristides I detect his deep design. In vain Cimon affects 
 the manner of the Spartan ; at heart he is Athenian. This 
 charge against Gongylus is aimed at me. Grant that the 
 
128 . PAUSANIAS, THB SPARTAN. 
 
 plot which it conceals succeed ; grant that Sparta share the 
 affected suspicions of the lonians, and recall me from By- 
 zantium ; deem you that there lives one Spartan who could 
 delay for a day the supremacy of Athens? Naught save 
 the respect the Dorian Greeks at least attach to the General 
 at Plataea could restrain the secret ambition of the city 
 of the demagogues. Deem not that I have been as rash 
 and vain as some hold me for the stern visage I have shown 
 to the lonians. Trust me that it was necessary to awe 
 them, with a view to maintain our majesty. For Sparta to 
 preserve her ascendency two things are needful : first, to 
 continue the war by land ; secondly, to disgust the lonians 
 with their sojourn here, send them with their ships to their 
 own havens, and so leave Hellas under the sole guardian- 
 ship of ourselves and our Peloponnesian allies. Therefore 
 I say, bear with me in this double design ; chide me not 
 if my haughty manner disperse these subtle lonians. If I 
 bore with them to-day, it was less from respect than, shall 
 I say it, my fear lest you should misinterpret me. Beware 
 how you detail to Sparta whatever might rouse the jealousy 
 of her government. Trust to me, and I will extend the do- 
 minion of Sparta till it grasp the whole of Greece. "We 
 will depose everywhere the revolutionary Demos, and estab- 
 lish our own oligarchies in every Grecian state. We will 
 Laconize all Hellas." 
 
 Much of what Pausanias said was wise and profound. 
 Such statesmanship, narrow and congenial, but vigorous 
 and crafty, Sparta taught in later years to her alert politi- 
 cians. And we have already seen that, despite the dazzling 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 129 
 
 prospects of Oriental dominion, he as yet had separated 
 himself rather from the laws than the interests of Sparta, 
 and still incorporated his own ambition with the extension 
 of the sovereignty of his country over the rest of Greece. 
 
 But the Peers heard him in duU and gloomy silence ; and 
 not till he had paused and thrice asked for a reply did 
 Polydorus speak. 
 
 " You would increase the dominion of Sparta, Pausanias. 
 Increase of dominion is waste of life and treasure. We 
 have few men, little gold ; Sparta is content to hold her 
 own." 
 
 " Good," said Gelon, with impassive countenance. " What 
 care we who leads the Greeks into blows? The fewer 
 blows the better. Brave men fight if they must ; wise 
 men never fight if they can help it." 
 
 "And such is your counsel, Cleomenes?" asked Pausanias, 
 with a quivering lip. 
 
 " Not from the same reasons," answered thfe nobler and 
 more generous Spartan. " I presume not to question your 
 motives, Pausanias. I leave you to explain them to the 
 Ephors and the Gerusia. But since you press me, this I 
 say. First, all the Greeks, Ionian as well as Dorian, fought 
 equally against the Mede, and from the commander of the 
 Greeks all should receive fellowship and courtesy. Sec- 
 ondly, I say if Athens is better fitted than Sparta for the 
 maritime ascendency, let Athens rule, so that Hellas be 
 saved from the Mede. Thirdly, O Pausanias, I pray that 
 Sparta may rest satisfied with her own institutions, and not 
 disturb the peace of Greece by forcing them upon other 
 
 6* I 
 
ISO PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 states, and thereby enslaving Hellas. What more could the 
 Persian do? Finally, my advice is to suspend Gongylus 
 from his office, to conciliate the lonians, to remain as a 
 Grecian armament firm and united, and so procure, on bet- 
 ter terms, peace witlj Persia. And then let each state re- 
 tire within itself, and none aspire to rule the other. A 
 thousand free cities are better guard against the Barbarian 
 than a single state made up of republics overthrown and 
 resting its strength upon hearts enslaved." 
 
 " Do you too," said Pausanias, gnawing his nether lip, 
 " do you too, Polydorus ; you too, Gelon, agree with Cle- 
 omenes, that, if Athens is better fitted than Sparta for the 
 sovereignty of the seas, we should yield to that restless rival 
 so perilous a power ?" 
 
 " Ships cost gold," said Polydorus ; " Spartans have none 
 to spare. Mariners require skUIful captains ; Spartans know 
 nothing of the sea." 
 
 " Moreover," quoth Gelon, " the ocean is a terrible ele- 
 ment. What can valor do against a storm ? We may lose 
 more men by adverse weather than a century can repair. 
 Let who will have the seas. Sparta has her rocts and de- 
 files." 
 
 " Men and Peers," said Pausanias, ill repressing Ms scorn, 
 "ye little dream what arms ye place in the hands of the 
 Athenians. I have done. Take only this prophecy : You 
 are now the head of Greece. You surrender your sceptre 
 to Athens, and become a second-rate power." 
 
 "Never second-rate when Greece shall demand armed 
 men," said Cleomenes, proudly. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 131 
 
 " Armed men, armed men !" cried tte more profound 
 Pausanias. "Do you suppose that commerce — that trade 
 — that maritime energy — that fleets which ransack the 
 shores of the world, will not obtain a power greater than 
 mere brute-like valor ? But as ye will, as ye will." 
 
 "As we speak, our forefathers thought," said Gelon. 
 
 " And, Pausanias," said Cleomenes, gravely, " as we speak, 
 so think the Ephors." 
 
 Pausanias fixed his dark eye on Cleomenes, and, after a 
 brief pause, saluted the Equals and withdrew. "Sparta," 
 he muttered, as he regained his chamber, " Sparta, thou 
 refusest to be great ; but greatness is necessary to thy son. 
 Ah, their iron laws would constrain my soul ! but it shall 
 wear them as a warrior wears his armor and adapts it to 
 his body. Thou shalt be queen of all Hellas, despite thy- 
 self, thine Ephors, and thy laws. Then only will I forgive 
 thee." 
 
132 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAKTAN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DiAGORAs was sitting outside his door and giving vari- 
 ous instructions to the slaves employed on his farm, when, 
 through an arcade thickly covered with the vine, the light 
 form of Antagoras came slowly in sight. 
 
 " Hail to thee, Diagoras !" said the Chian ; " thou art the 
 only wise man I meet with. Thou art tranquil while all 
 else are disturbed ; and, worshiping the great Mother, thou 
 carest naught, methinks, for the Persian who invades or the 
 Spartan who professes to defend." 
 
 " Tut !" said Diagoras, in a whisper ; " thou knowest the 
 contrary : thou knowest that if the Persian comes, I am 
 ruined ; and, by the gods, I am on a bed of thorns as long 
 as the Spartan stays." 
 
 "Dismiss thy slaves," exclaimed Antagoras, in the same 
 undertone ; "I would speak with thee on grave matters that 
 concern us both." 
 
 After hastily finishing his instructions and dismissing 
 his slaves, Diagoras turned to the impatient Chian, and 
 said, 
 
 " Now, young warrior, I am all ears for thy speech." 
 
 " Truly," said Antagoras, " if thou wert aware of what I 
 am about to utter, thou wouldst not have postponed con- 
 
•PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 133 
 
 sideration for thy daughter to thy care for a few jars of 
 beggarly olives." 
 
 " Hem !" said Diagoras, peevishly. " Olives are not to 
 be despised : oil to the limbs makes them supple ; to the 
 stomach it gives gladness. Oil, moreover, bringeth money, 
 when sold. But a daughter is the plague of a man's life. 
 First, one has to keep away lovers ; and, next, to find a 
 husband ; and when all is done, one has to put one's hand 
 in one's chest, and pay a tall fellow like thee for robbing 
 one of one's own child. That custom of dowries is abom- 
 inable. In the good old times a bridegroom, as was meet 
 and proper, paid for his bride ; now we poor fathers pay 
 him for taking her. Well, well, never bite thy forefinger, 
 and curl up thy brows. What thou hast to say, say." 
 
 "Diagoras, I know that thy heart is better than thy 
 speech, and that, much as thou covetest money, thou lovest 
 thy child more. Know, then, that Pausanias — a curse light 
 on him ! — ^brings shame upon Cleonice. Know that already 
 her name hath grown the talk of the camp. Know that 
 his visit to her the night before last was proclaimed in 
 the Council of the Captains as a theme for jest and rude 
 laughter. By the head of Zeus, how thinkest thou to 
 profit by the stealthy wooings of this black-browed Spar- 
 tan? Knowest thou not that his laws forbid him to marry 
 Cleonice? Wouldst thou have him dishonor her? Speak 
 out to him as thou speakest to men, and tell him that the 
 maidens of Byzantium are not in the control of the General 
 of the Greeks." 
 
 " Youth, youth," cried Diagoras, greatly agitated, 
 
 12 
 
134 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 "wouldst thou bring my gray hairs to a bloody grave? 
 Wouldst thou see my daughter reft from me by force, 
 and—" 
 
 "How darest thou speak thus, old man?" interrupted 
 the indignant Chian. " If Pausanias wronged a virgiuj all 
 Hellas would rise against him." 
 
 " Yes, but not till the ill were done, till my throat were 
 cut, and my child dishonored. Listen. At first, indeed, 
 when, as Ul-luck would have it, Pausanias, lodging a few 
 days under my roof, saw and admired Cleonice, I did vent- 
 ure to remonstrate ; and how think you he took it ? ' Nev- 
 er,' quoth he, with his stern, quivering lip, ' never did con- 
 quest forego its best right to the smiles of beauty. The 
 legends of Hercules, my ancestor, tell thee that to him who 
 labors for men, the gods grant the love of- women. Fear 
 not that I should wrong thy daughter; to woo her is not 
 to wrong. But close thy door on me ; immure Cleonice 
 from my sight ; and nor armed slaves, nor bolts, nor bars 
 shall keep love from the loved one.' Therewith he turned 
 on his heel and left me. But the next day came a Lydian 
 in his train, with a goodly pannier of rich stuffs and a 
 short Spartan sword. On the pannier was written ''Friend- 
 ship;'' on the sword, ' Wrath ;^ and Alcman gave me a scrap 
 of parchment, whereon, with the cursed brief wit of a Spar- 
 tan, was inscribed ^Choose!' Who could doubt which to 
 take ? who, by the gods, would prefer three inches of Spar- 
 tannron in his stomach to a basketful of rich stuffs for his 
 shoulders? Wherefore, from that hour, Pausanias comes 
 as he lists. But Cleonice humors him not, let tongues wag 
 
PAUSANIAS,- THE SPARTAN. 135 
 
 as they may. Easier to take ttree cities than that child's 
 heart." 
 
 " Is it so, indeed ?" exclaimed the ^ian, joyfully. " Cleo- 
 nice loves him not ?" 
 
 " Laughs at him to his beard- that is, would laugh if he 
 wore one," 
 
 " O Diagoras !" cried Ajitagoras, " hear me, hear me. I 
 need not remind thee that our families are united by the 
 hospitable ties ; that among thy treasures thou wilt find 
 the gifts of my ancestors for five generations ; that when, a 
 year since, my affairs brought me to Byzantium, I came to 
 thee with the symbols of my right to claim thy hospitable 
 cares. On leaving thee, we broke the sacred die. I have 
 one half, thou the other. In that visit I saw and loved 
 Cleonice. Fain would I have told my love, but then my 
 father lived, and I feared lest he should oppose my suit ; 
 therefore, as became me, I was silent. On my return home, 
 my fears were confirmed ; my father desired that I, a 
 Chian, should wed a Chian. Since I have been with the 
 fleet, news has reached me that the urn holds my father's 
 ashes." Here the young Chian paused. "Alas! alas!" he 
 murmured, smiting his breast, " and I was not at hand to 
 fix over thy doors the sacred branch, to give thee the part- 
 ing kiss, and receive into my lips thy latest breath ! May 
 "Sermes, father, have led thee to pleasant groves !" 
 
 Diagoras, who had listened attentively to the young 
 Chian, was touched by his grief, and said, pityingly : 
 
 " I know thou art a good son, and thy father was a 
 Worthy man, though harsh. It is a comfort to think that 
 
136 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTANi- 
 
 all does not die with the dead. His money at least sur-- 
 vives Mm." 
 
 " But," resumed Antagoras, not heeding this consolation 
 — " but now I am free ; and ere this, so soon as my mourn- 
 ing garment had been laid aside, I had asked thee to bless 
 me with Cleonice, but that I feared her love was gone — 
 gone to the haughty Spartan. Thou re-assurest me ; and, 
 in so doing, thou eonfirmest the fair omens with which 
 Aphrodite has received my offerings. Therefore, I speak 
 out. No dowry ask I with Cleonice, save such, more in 
 name than amount, as may distinguish the wife from the 
 concubine, and assure her an honored place among my kins- 
 men. Thou knowest I am rich ; thou knowest that my 
 birth dates from the oldest citizens of Chios. Give me thy 
 child, and deliver her thyself at once from the Spartan's 
 power. Once mine, all the fleets of Hellas are her protec- 
 tion, and our marriage-torches are the swords of a Grecian 
 army. O Diagoras, I clasp thy knees ; put thy right hand 
 in mine. Give me thy child as wife !" 
 
 The Byzantine was strongly affected. The suitor was 
 one who, in birth and possessions, was all that he could 
 desire for his daughter; and at Byzantium there did not 
 exist that feeling against intermarriages with, the foreigner 
 which prevailed in towns more purely Greek, though in 
 many of them, too, that antique prejudice had worn away. 
 On the other hand, by transferring to Antagoras his anxious 
 charge, he felt that he should take the best course to pre- 
 serve it untarnished from the fierce love of Pausanias, and 
 there was truth in the Chian's suggestion. The daughter 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 137 
 
 of a Byzantine might be unprotected ; the wife of an Ionian 
 captain was safe, even from the power of Pausanias. As 
 these reflections occurred to him, he placed his right hand 
 in the Chian's, and said : 
 
 " Be it as thou wilt ; I consent to betroth thee to Cleo- 
 nice. Follow me ; thou art free to woo her." 
 
 So saying, he rose, and, as if in fear of his own second 
 thoughts, he traversed the hall with hasty strides to the in- 
 terior of the mansion. He ascended a flight of steps, and, 
 drawing aside a curtain suspended between two columns, 
 Antagoras, who followed timidly behind, beheld Cleonice. 
 
 As was the wont in the domestic life of all Grecian 
 states, her handmaids were around the noble virgin. Two 
 were engaged on embroidery, one in spinning, a fourth was 
 reading aloud to Cleonice, and that at least was a rare di- 
 version to women, for few had the education of the fair 
 Byzantine. Cleonice herself was half reclined upon a 
 bench inlaid with ivory and covered with cushions ; before 
 her stood a small tripod table on which she leaned the arm 
 the hand of which supported her cheek, and she seemed 
 listening to the lecture of the slave with earnest and ab- 
 sorbed attention, so earnest, so absorbed, that she did not 
 for some moments perceive the entrance of Diagoras and 
 the Chian. 
 
 "Child," said the former — and Cleonice started to her 
 feet, and stood modestly before her father, her eyes down- 
 cast, her arms crossed upon her bosom — " child, I bid thee 
 welcome my guest-friend, Antagoras of Chios. Slaves, ye 
 may withdraw." 
 
 12« 
 
138 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 Cleonice bowed her head; and an unquiet, anxious 
 change came over her countenance. 
 
 As soon as the slaves were gone, Diagoras resumed : 
 
 "Daughter, I present to thee a suitor for thy hand. 
 Eeceive him as I have done, and he shall have my leave 
 to carve thy name on every tree in the garden, with the 
 lover's epithet of 'Beautiful' attached to it. Antagoras, 
 look up, then, and speak for thyself." 
 
 But Antagoras was silent ; and a fear unknown to his 
 frank, hardy nature came over him. With an arch snjile, 
 Diagoras, deeming his presence no longer necessaiy or ex- 
 pedient, lifted the curtain, and lover and maid were left 
 alone. 
 
 Then, with an effort, and still with hesitating accents, the 
 Chian spoke: 
 
 " Fair virgin, not in the groves of Byzantium will thy 
 name be firet written by the hand of Antagoras. In my 
 native Chios the myrtle-trees are already eloquent of thee. 
 Since I first saw thee, I loved. Maiden, wilt thou be my 
 wife?" 
 
 Thrice moved the lips of Cleonice, and thrice her voice 
 seemed to fail her. At length she said, " Chian, thou art a 
 stranger, and the laws of the Grecian cities dishonor the 
 stranger whom the free citizen stoops to marry.'' 
 
 " Nay," cried Antagoras, " such cruel laws are obsolete in 
 Chios. Nature and custom, and love's almighty goddess, 
 long since have set them aside. Fear not, the haughtiest 
 matron of my native state will not be more honored than 
 the Byzantium bride of Antagoras." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 139 
 
 "Is it in Sparta only that such laws exist?" said Cleo- 
 nice, half unconsciously, and to the sigh with which she 
 spoke a deep blush succeeded. 
 
 " Sparta !" exclaimed Antagoras, with a fierce and jealous 
 pang — " ah, are thy thoughts, then, upon the son of Sparta? 
 Were Pausanias a Chian, wouldst thou turn from him scorn- 
 fully as thou now dost from me ?" 
 
 " Not scornfully, Antagoras," answered Cleonice (who 
 had indeed averted her face at his reproachful question ; but 
 now turned it full upon him, with an expression of sad and 
 pathetic sweetness), " not scornfully do I turn from thee, 
 though with pain ; for what worthier homage canst thou 
 render to woman than honorable love? Gratefully do I 
 hearken to the suit that comes from thee ; but gratitude is 
 not the return thou wouldst ask, Antagoras. My hand is 
 my father's ; my heart, alas ! is mine. Thou mayst claim 
 from him the one ; the other, neither he can give, nor thou 
 receive." 
 
 " Say not so, Cleonice," cried the Chian ; " say not that 
 thou canst not love me, if so I am to interpret thy words. 
 Love brings love with the young. How canst thou yet know 
 thine own heart? Tarry till thou hast listened to mine. 
 As the fire on the altar spreads from ofEering to offering, 
 so spreads love ; its flame envelops all that are near to it. 
 Thy heart will catch the heavenly spark from mine." 
 
 "Chian," said Cleonice, gently withdrawing the hand 
 that he sought to clasp, " when as my father's guest-friend 
 thou wert a sojourner within these walls, oft have I heard 
 thee speak, and all thy words spoke the thoughts of a noble 
 
140 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 soul. Wore it otherwise, not tlius would I now address 
 thee. Didst thou love gold, and wooed in me but the child 
 of the rich Diagoras, or wert thou one of those who would 
 treat for a wife, as a trader for a slave, invoking Here, but 
 disdaining Aphrodite, I should bow my head to my doom. 
 But thou, Antagoras, askest love for love ; this I can not 
 give thee. Spare me, generous Chian. Let not my fa- 
 ther enforce his right to my obedience." 
 
 " Answer me but one question," interrupted Antagoras in 
 a low voice, though with compressed lips, " dost thou, then, 
 love another?" 
 
 The blood mounted to the virgin's cheeks ; it suffused her 
 brow, her neck, with burning -blushes, and then, receding, 
 left her face colorless as a statue. Then with tones low 
 and constrained as his own, she pressed her hand on her 
 heart, and replied, " Thou sayest it ; I love another." 
 
 "And that other is Pausanias ? Alas ! thy silence, thy 
 trembling, answer me." 
 
 Antagoras groaned aloud, and covered his face with his 
 hands ; but after a short pause he exclaimed, with great 
 emotion, " No, no — say not that thou lovest Pausanias ; say 
 not that Aphrodite hath so accursed thee : for to love Pau- 
 sanias is to love dishonor." 
 
 " Hold, Chian ! Not so ; for my love has no hope. 
 Our hearts are not our own, but our actions are." 
 
 Antagoras gaaed on her with suspense and awe ; for as 
 she spoke her slight form dilated, her lip curled, her cheek 
 glowed again, but with the blush less of love than of 
 pride. In her countenance, her attitude, there was some- 
 
PaLUSANIAS-, THE SPARTAK. 141" 
 
 thing divine and holy, such as ■would have beseemed a 
 priestess of Diana. 
 
 "Yes," she resumed, raising her eyes, and with a still 
 and mournful sweetness in her upraised features. " What 
 I love is not Pausanias, it is the glory of which he is the 
 symbol, it is the Greece of which he has been the savior. 
 Let him depart, as soon he must — let these eyes behold him 
 no more; still there exists for me all that exists now — a 
 name, a renown, a dream. Never for me may the nuptial 
 hymn resound, or the marriage-torch be illumined. O god- 
 dess of the silver bow, O chaste and venerable Artemis, 
 receive, protect thy servant! and ye, O funereal gods, lead 
 me soon, lead the virgin unreluctant to the shades !" 
 
 A superstitious fear, a dread as if his earthly love would 
 violate something sacred, chilled the ardor of the young 
 Chian ; and for several moments both were silent. 
 
 At length, Antagoras, tissing the hem of her robe, said : 
 
 " Maiden of Byzantium, like thee, then, I will love, 
 though without hope. I will not, I dare not, profane thy 
 presence by prayers which pain thee, and seem to me, 
 having heard thee, almost guilty, as if proffered to some 
 nymph circling in choral dance the moonlit mountain-tops 
 of Delos. But ere I depart, and tell thy father that my 
 suit is over, oh, place at least thy right hand in mine, and 
 swear to me, not the bride's vow of faith and troth, but 
 that vow which a virgin sister may pledge to a brother, 
 mindful to protect and to avenge her. Swear to me, that 
 if this haughty Spartan, contemning alike men, laws, and 
 the household gods, should seek to constrain thy purity 
 
142 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 to his will; if thou shouldst have cause to tremble at 
 power and force ; and fierce desire should demand what 
 gentle love would but reverently implore — ^then, Cleonice, 
 seeing how little thy father can defend thee, wilt thou re- 
 member Antagoras, and through him summon around thee 
 all the majesty of Hellas ? Grant me but this prayer, and 
 I leave thee, if in sorrow, yet not with terror." 
 
 " Generous and noble Chian," returned Cleonice, as her 
 tears fell upon the hand he extended to her, " why, why do 
 I so ill repay thee? Thy love is indeed that which en- 
 nobles the heart that yields it, and her who shall one day 
 recompense thee for the loss of me. Fear not the power 
 of Pausanias : dream not that I shall need a defender, while 
 above us reign the gods, and below us lies the grave. Yet, 
 to appease thee, take my right hand, and hear my oath : If 
 the hour comes when I have need of man's honor against 
 man's wrong, I will call on Antagoras as a brother." 
 
 Their hands closed in each other ; and, not trusting him- 
 self to speech, Antagoras turned away his face and left the 
 room. 
 
PAUSANIAS,, THE SPARTAN. 143 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 For some days, an appearance, at least, of harmony was 
 restored to the contending factions in the Byzantine camp. 
 
 Pausanias did not dismiss Gongylus from the govern- 
 ment of the city ; but he sent, one by one, for the more im- 
 portant of the Ionian complainants, listened to their gi-iev- 
 ances, and promised redress. He adopted a more popular 
 and gracious demeanor, and seemed, with a noble grace, 
 to submit to the policy of conciliating the allies. 
 
 But discontent arose from causes beyond his power, had 
 he genuinely exerted it, to remove. For it was, a discontent 
 that lay in the hostility of race to race. Though the Spar- 
 tan Equals had preached courtesy to the lonians, the ordi- 
 nary manner of the Spartan warriors was invariably offensive 
 to the vain and susceptible confederates of a more polished 
 race. A Spartan, wherever he might be placed, uncon- 
 sciously assumed superiority. The levity of an Ionian was 
 ever displeasing to him. Out of the actual battle-field, 
 they could have no topics in common, none which did not 
 provoke irritation and dispute. On the other hand, most 
 of the lonians could ill conceal their disaffection, mingled 
 with something of just contempt at the notorious and con- 
 fessed incapacity of the Spartans for maritime affairs, while 
 a Spartan was yet the commander of the fleet. And many 
 
144 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 of them, wearied with inaction and anxious to return home, 
 were willing to seize any reasonable pretext for desertion. 
 In this last motive lay the real strength and safety of Pau- 
 sanias. And to this end his previous policy of arrogance 
 was not so idle as it had seemed to the Greeks, and appears 
 still in the page of history. For a Spartan really anxious 
 to preserve the pre-eminence of his country, and to prevent 
 the sceptre of the seas passing to Athens, could have devised 
 no plan of action more sagacious and profound than one 
 which would disperse the lonians, and the Athenians them- 
 selves, and reduce the operations of the Grecian force to that 
 land warfare in which the Spartan pre-eminence was equal- 
 ly indisputable and undisputed. And still Pausanias, even 
 in his change of manner, plotted and intrigued and hoped 
 for this end. Could he once sever from the encampment 
 the AtheniaHs and the Ionian allies, and yet remain with his 
 own force at Byzantium until the Persian army could col- 
 lect on the Phrygian frontier, the way seemed clear to his 
 ambition. Under ordinary circumstances, in this object he 
 might easily have succeeded. But it chanced that all his 
 schemes were met with invincible mistrust by those in 
 whose interest they were conceived, and on whose co-opera- 
 tion they depended for success. The means adopted by 
 Pausanias in pursuit of his policy were too distasteful to 
 the national prejudices of the Spartan government, to en- 
 able him to elicit from the national ambition of that govern- 
 ment sufficient sympathy with the object of it. The more 
 he felt himself uncomprehended and mistrusted by his 
 countrymen, the more personal became the character, and 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 145 
 
 the more unscrupulous the course, of his ambition. Un- 
 happily for Pausanias, moreover, the circumstances which 
 chafed his pride also thwarted the satisfaction of his affec- 
 tions ; and his criminal ambition was stimulated by that 
 less guilty passion which shared with it the mastery of a 
 singularly turbulent and impetuous soul. Not his the love 
 of sleek, gallant, and wanton youth ; it was the love of man 
 in his mature years, but of man to whom love till then had 
 been unknown. In that large and dark and stormy nature, 
 all passions, once admitted, took the growth of Titans. 
 He loved as those long lonely at heart alone can love ; he 
 loved as love the unhappy when the unfamiliar bliss of the 
 sweet human emotion descends like dew upon the desert. 
 To him Cleonice was a creature wholly out of the range of 
 experience. Differing in every shade of her versatile humor 
 from the only women he had known — the simple, sturdy, 
 uneducated maids and matrons of Sparta — her softness en- 
 thralled him, her anger awed. In his dreams of future 
 power, of an absolute throne and unlimited dominion, Pau- 
 sanias beheld the fair Byzantine crowned by his side. 
 Fiercely as he loved, and little as the sentiment of love min- 
 gled with his passion, he yet thought not to dishonor a vic- 
 tim, but to elevate a bride. What though the laws of 
 Sparta were against such nuptials, was not the hour ap- 
 proaching when these laws should be trampled under his 
 armed heel? Since the contract with the Persians, which 
 Gongylus assured him Xerxes would joyously and promptly 
 fulfill, Pausanias already felt, in a soul whose arrogance 
 arose from the consciousness of powers that had not yet 
 1.? 7 K 
 
140 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 found their field, as if lie were not the subject of Sparta, 
 but her lord and king. In his interviews with Cleonice, his 
 language took a tone of promise and of hope that at times 
 lulled her fears, and communicated its sanguine colorings 
 of the future to her own dreams. With the elasticity of 
 youth her spirits rose from the solemn despondency with 
 which she had replied to the reproaches of Antagoras. 
 For though Pausanias spoke not openly of his schemes, 
 though his words were mysterious, and his replies to her 
 questions ambiguous and equivocal, still it seemed to her, 
 seeing in him the hero of all Hellas, so natural that he 
 could make the laws of Sparta yield to the weight of his 
 authority, or relax in homage to his renown, that she in- 
 dulged the belief that his influence would set aside the iron 
 customs of his country. Was it too extravagant a reward 
 to the conqueror of the Mede to sufEer him to select at least 
 the partner of his hearth ? No, Hope was not dead in that 
 young breast. Still might she be the bride of him whose 
 glory had dazzled her noble and sensitive nature, till the 
 faults that darkened it were lost in the blaze. Thus, in- 
 sensibly to herself, her tones became softer to her stern 
 lover, and her heart betrayed itself more in her gentle looks. 
 Yet again were there times when doubt and alarm returned 
 with more than their earlier force — times when, wrapped 
 in his lurid and absorbing ambition, Pausanias escaped from 
 his usual suppressed reserve — ^times when she recalled that 
 night in which she had witnessed his interview with the 
 strangers of the East, and had trembled lest the altar should 
 be kindled upon the ruins of his fame. For Cleonice was 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN, 147 
 
 ■wLoUy, ardently, sublimely Greek, filled in each crevice of 
 her soul with its lovely poetry, its beautiful superstition, 
 its heroic freedom. As Greet, she had loved Pausanias, 
 seeing in him the lofty incarnation of Greece itself. The 
 descendant of the demi-god, the champion of Platsea, the 
 savior of Hellas — theme for song till song should be no 
 more— ^ these attributes vrere what she beheld and loved; 
 and not to 'have reigned by his side over a world would 
 she have welcomed one object of that evil ambition which 
 renounced the loyalty of a Greek for the supremacy of a 
 king. 
 
 Meanwhile, though Antagoras had, with no mean degree 
 of generosity, relinquished his suit to Cleonice, he detected 
 with a jealous vigilance the continued visits of Pausanias, 
 and burned with increasing hatred against his favored and 
 powerful rival. Though, in common with all the Greeks 
 out of the Peloponnesus, he was very imperfectly acquaint- 
 ed with the Spartan constitution, he could not be blinded, 
 like Cleonice, into the belief that a law so fundamental in 
 Sparta, and so general in all the primitive states of Greece, 
 as that which forbade intermarriage with a foreigner, could 
 be canceled for the Eegent of Sparta, and in favor of an 
 obscure maiden of Byzantium. Every visit Pausanias paid 
 to Cleonice but served, in his eyes, as a prelude to her ulti- 
 mate dishonor. He lent himself, therefore, with all the zeal 
 of his vivacious and ardent character, to the design of re- 
 moving Pausanias himself from Byzantium. He plotted 
 with the implacable Uliades and the other Ionian captains 
 to send to Sparta a formal mission, stating their grievances 
 
148 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 against the Kegent and urging his recall. But the altered 
 manner of Pausanias deprived them of their just pretext ; 
 and the lonians, more and more under the influence of the 
 Athenian chief, were disinclined to so extreme a measure 
 without the consent of Aristides and Cimon. These two 
 chiefs were not passive spectators of affairs so critical to 
 their ambition for Athens — they penetrated into the mo- 
 tives of Pausanias in the novel courtesy of demeanor that 
 he adopted, and they foresaw that if he could succeed in 
 wearing away the patience of the allies and dispersing the 
 fleet, yet without giving occasion for his own recall, the 
 golden opportunity of securing to Athens the maritime as- 
 cendency would be lost. They resolved, therefore, to mate 
 the occasion which the wiles of the Kegent had delayed ; 
 and toward this object Antagoras, moved by his own jeal- 
 ous hate against Pausanias, worked incessantly. Fearless 
 and vigilant, he was ever on the watch for some new charge 
 against the Spartan chief, ever relentless in stimulating sus- 
 picion, aggravating discontent, inflaming the fierce, and ar- 
 guing with the timid. His less exalted station allowed him 
 to mix more familiarly with the various Ionian oflBcers than 
 would have become the high-bom Cimon, and the dignified 
 repute of Aristides. Seeking to distract his mind from the 
 haunting thought of Cleonice, he flung himself with the 
 ardor of his Greek temperament into the social pleasures, 
 which took a zest from the design that he carried into them 
 all. In the banquets, in the sports, he was ever seeking to 
 increase the enemies of his rival ; and where he charmed a 
 gay companion, there he often enlisted a bold conspirator. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 149 
 
 Pausanias, the unconscious or the careless object of the 
 Ionian's jealous hate, could not resist the fatal charm of 
 Cleonice's presence; and if it sometimes exasperated the 
 more evil elements of his nature, at other times it so lulled 
 them to rest, that had the Fates given him the rightful 
 claim to that single treasure, not one guUty thought might 
 have disturbed the majesty of a soul which, though undis- 
 ciplined and uncultured, ov?ed half its turbulence and half 
 its rebellious pride to its baflBed yearnings for human affec- 
 tion and natural joy. And Cleonice, unable to shun the 
 visits which her weak and covetous father, despite his 
 promised favor to the suit of Antagoras, still encouraged ; 
 and feeling her honor, at least, if not her peace, was se- 
 cured by that ascendency which, with each successive inter- 
 view between them, her character more and more asserted 
 over the Spartan's higher nature, relinquished the torment- 
 ing levity of tone whereby she had once sought to elude 
 his earnestness, or conceal her own sentiments. An inter- 
 est in a fate so solemn, an interest far deeper than mere 
 human love, stole into her heart and elevated its instincts. 
 She recognized the immense compassion which was due to 
 the man so desolate at the head of armaments, so dark in 
 the midst of glory. Centuries roll, customs change, but, 
 ever since the time of the earliest mother, woman yearns to 
 be the soother. 
 
 13* 
 
150 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 It was the hour of the day when between the two princi- 
 pal meals of the Greeks men surrendered themselves to idle- 
 ness or pleasure ; when groups formed in the market-place, 
 or crowded the barbers' shops, to gossip and talk of news ; 
 when the tale-teller or ballad -singer collected round him 
 on the quays his credulous audience ; when on playgrounds 
 that stretched behind the taverns or without the walls the 
 more active youths assembled, and the quoit was hurled, or 
 mimic battles waged with weapons of wood ; or the Dori- 
 ans weaved their simple, the lonians their more intricate or 
 less decorous, dances. At that hour Lysander, wandering 
 from the circles of his countrymen, walked musingly by 
 the sea-shore. 
 
 "And why," said the voice of a person who had ap- 
 proached him unperceived, " and why, O Lysander, art thou 
 absent from thy comrades, thou model and theme of the 
 youths of Sparta, foremost in their manly sports, as in their 
 martial labors ?" 
 
 Lysander turned and bowed low his graceful head, for he 
 who accosted him was scarcely more honored by the Athe- 
 nians, whom his birth, his wealth, and his popular demeanor 
 dazzled, than by the plain sons of Sparta, who, in his sim- 
 ple garb, his blunt and hasty manner, his professed admira- 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 151 
 
 tion for all ttings Spartan, beheld one Athenian at least 
 congenial to their tastes. 
 
 " The child that misses its mother^" answered Lysander^ 
 " has small joy with its playmateSi And I, a Spartan, pine 
 for Sparta." 
 
 " Trulyj" returned Cimoa, " there must be charms in thy 
 noble country of which we other Greeks know but little, 
 if amidst all the luxuries and delights of Byzantium thou 
 canst pine for her rugged hills. And although, as thou 
 knowest well, I was once a sojourner in thy city as embas- 
 sador from my own, yet to foreigners so little of the inner 
 Spartan life is revealed, that I pray thee to satisfy my curi- 
 osity and explain to me the charm that reconciles thee and 
 thine to institutions which seem to the lonians at war with 
 the pleasures and the graces of social life."* 
 
 * Alexander, King of Macedon, had visited the Athenians 
 with overtures of peace and alliance from Xerxes and Mardo- 
 nius. These overtures were confined to the Athenians alone, 
 and the Spartans were fearful lest they should be accepted. 
 The Athenians, however, generously refused them. Gold, said 
 they, hath no amount, earth no territory how beautiful soever 
 that could tempt the Athenians to accept conditions from the 
 Mede for the servitude of Grreece. On this the Persians in- 
 vaded Attica, and the Athenians, after waiting in vain for 
 promised aid from Sparta, took refuge at Salamis. Mean- 
 while, they had sent messengers or embassadors to Sparta, to 
 remonstrate on the violation of their agreement in delaying 
 succor. This chanced at the very time when, by the death of 
 Lis father, Cleombrotns, Pausanias became Regent. Slowly, 
 and after much hesitation, the Spartans sent them aid under 
 Pausanias. Two of the embassadors were Aiistides and 
 Cimon. 
 
152 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 " HI can the native of one land explain to the son of 
 another why he loves it," returned Lysander. " That which 
 the Ionian calls pleasure is to me but tedious vanity ; that 
 which he calls grace is to me but enervate levity. Me it 
 pleases to find the day, from sunrise to night, full of occu- 
 pations that leave no languor, that employ, but not excite. 
 For the morning, our gymnasia, our military games, the 
 chase — diversions that brace the limbs and leave us in 
 peace fit for war — diversions which, unlike the brawls of 
 the wordy Agora, bless us with the calm mind and clear 
 spirit resulting from vigorous habits, and insuring jocund 
 health. Noon brings our simple feast, shared in public, 
 enlivened by jest ; late at eve we collect in our Leschae, and 
 the winter nights seem short, listening to the old men's talk 
 of our sires and heroes. To us life is one serene yet active 
 holiday. No Spartan condescends to labor, yet no Spartan 
 can womanize himself by ease. For us, too, dififering from 
 you Ionian Greeks, for us women- are companions, not 
 slaves. Man's youth is passed under the eyes and in the 
 presence of those from whom he may select, as his heart 
 inclines, the future mother of his children. Not for us 
 your feverish and miserable ambitions, the intrigues of 
 demagogues, the drudgery of the mart, the babble of the 
 populace ; we alone know the quiet repose of heart. That 
 which I see everywhere else, the gnawing strife of passion, 
 visits not the stately calm of the Spartan life. We have 
 the leisure, not of the body alone, but of the soul. Equali- 
 ty with us is the all in all, and we know not that jealous 
 anguish — the desire to rise one above the other. We busy 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 153 
 
 ourselves not in mating -wealth, in ruling mobs, in osten- 
 tatious rivalries of state, and gaud, and power — struggles 
 ■without an object. When we struggle, it is for an end. 
 Nothing moves us from our calm but danger to Sparta, or 
 ■woe to Hellas. Harmony, peace, and order — these are the 
 graces of our social life. Pity us, O Athenian !" 
 
 Cimon had listened ■with profound attention to a speech 
 unusually prolix and descriptive for a Spartan; and he 
 sighed deeply as it closed. For that young Athenian, des- 
 tined to so renowned a place in the history of his country, 
 ■was, despite his popular manners, no favorer of the popu- 
 lar passions. Lofty and calm, and essentially an aristocrat 
 by nature and opinion, this picture of a life unruffled by 
 the restless changes of democracy, safe and aloof from the 
 shifting humors of the multitude, charmed and allured him. 
 He forgot for the moment those counter-propensities ■which 
 made him still Athenian — the taste for magnificence, the 
 love of ■women, and the desire of rule. His busy schemes 
 slept within him, and he answered : 
 
 " Happy is the Spartan who thints with you. Yet," he 
 added, after a pause, " yet own that there are among you 
 many to whom the life you describe has ceased to proffer 
 the charms that inthrall you, and who envy the more di- 
 versified and exciting existence of surrounding states. Ly- 
 sander's eulogiums shame his chief, Pausanias." 
 
 " It is not for me, nor for thee, whose years scarce ex- 
 ceed my own, to judge of our elders in renown," said Ly- 
 sander, with a slight shade over his calm brow. " Pausa- 
 nias will surely be found still a Spartan, when Sparta needs 
 
1S4 PAUSANIAS, TH5 SPAETAN. 
 
 Mm ; and the heart of the Heracleid beats under the robe 
 of the Mede." 
 
 "Be frank with me, Lysander; thou knowest that my 
 own countrymen often jealously accuse me of loving Sparta 
 too well. I imitate, say they, the manners and dress of the 
 Spartan, as Pausanias those of the Mede. Trust me, then, 
 and bear with me, when I say that Pausanias ruins the 
 cause of Sparta. If he tarry here longer in the command, 
 he will render aU the allies enemies to thy country. Al- 
 ready he has impaired his fame and dimmed his laurels ; 
 already, despite his pretexts and excuses, we perceive that 
 his whole nature is corrupted. EecaU him to Sparta while 
 it is yet time — time to reconcile the Greeks with Sparta, 
 time to save the hero of Platsea from the contaminations 
 of the East. Preserve his own glory, dearer to thee as his 
 special friend than to all men, yet dear to me, though an 
 Athenian, from the memory of the deeds which delivered 
 Hellas." 
 
 Cimon spoke with the blunt and candid eloquence natural 
 to him, and to whieh his manly countenance and earnest 
 tone and character for truth gave singular effect. 
 
 Lysander remained long silent. At length he said : " I 
 neither deny nor assent to thine arguments, son of MUtiades. 
 The Ephors alone can judge of theii- wisdom,." 
 
 "But if we address them, by message, to the Ephors, 
 thou and the nobler Spartans will not resent our remon- 
 strances 3" 
 
 " All that injures Pausanias, Lysander will resent. Little 
 know I of the fables of poets, but Homer is at least as 
 
I*AUSAKIAS, THB SFABTAK. 155 
 
 familiar to the Dorian as to the Ionian, and I think with him 
 that between friends there is but one love and one anger." 
 
 " Then are the frailties of Pausanias dearer to thee than 
 his fame, or Pausanias himself dearer to thee than Sparta 
 — the erring brother than the venerable mother." 
 
 Lysander's voice died on his lips; the reproof struck 
 home to him. He turned away his face, and, with a slow 
 wave of his hand, seemed to implore forbearance. Cimon 
 was touched by the action and the generous embarrass- 
 ment of the Spartan ; he saw, too, that he had left in the 
 mind he had addressed thoughts that might work as he had 
 designed ; and he judged by the effect produced on Lysan- 
 der what influence the same arguments might effect ad- 
 dressed to others less under the control of personal friend- 
 ship. Therefore, with a few gentle words, he turned aside, 
 continued his way, and left Lysander aloncj 
 
 Entering the town, the Athenian threaded his path 
 through some of the narrow lanes and alleys that wound 
 from the quays toward the citadel, avoiding the broader 
 and more frequented streets. The course he took was such 
 as rendered it little probable that he should encounter any 
 of the higher classes, and especially the Spartans, who from 
 their constitutional pride shunned the resorts of the popu- 
 lace. But as he came nearer the citadel, stray Helots were 
 seen at times emerging from the inns and drinking-houses, 
 and these stopped short and inclined low if they caught 
 sight of him at a distance ; for his hat and staff, his majestic 
 stature and composed step, made them take him for a 
 Spartan. 
 
156 PArSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 One of these slaves, however, emerging suddenly from a 
 house close by which Cimon passed, recognized him, and, 
 retreating within abruptly, entered a room in which a man 
 sat alone, and seemingly in profound thought; his cheek 
 rested on one hand, with the other he leaned upon a small 
 lyre ; his eyes were bent on the ground, and he started, as a 
 man does dream-like from a reverie, when the Helot touched 
 him, and said abruptly, and in a tone of surprise and inquiry, 
 
 " Cimon the Athenian is ascending the hUl toward the 
 Spartan quarter." 
 
 " The Spartan quarter ! Cimon !" exclaimed Alcman, for 
 it was he. " Give me thy cap and hide." 
 
 Hastily enduing himself in these rough garments, and 
 drawing the cap over his face, the Mothon hurried to the 
 threshold, and, seeing the Athenian at the distance, followed 
 his footsteps, though, with the skill of a man used to am- 
 bush, he kept himself unseen — now under the projecting 
 roofs of the houses, now skirting the wall, which, heavy with 
 buttresses, led toward the outworks of the citadel. And 
 with such success did he pursue his track, that when Cimon 
 paused at last at the place of his destination, and gave one 
 vigilant and searching glance around him, he detected no 
 living form. 
 
 He had then reached a small space of table-land on which 
 stood a few trees of great age — all that time and the en- 
 croachments of the citadel and the town had spared of the 
 sacred grove which formerly surrounded a rude and primi- 
 tive temple, the gray columns of which gleamed through 
 the heavy foliage. Passing, with a slow and cautious step. 
 
PATT^ANIAg, THK SPARTAN. ISY 
 
 under the thick shadow of these trees, Cimon now arrived 
 before the open door of the temple, placed at the east so as 
 to admit the first beams of the rising sun. Through the 
 threshold, in the middle of the fane, the eye rested on the 
 statue of Apollo, raised upon a lofty pedestal and surround- 
 ed by a rail — a statue not such as the later genius of the 
 Athenian represented the god of light, and youth, and 
 beauty ; not wrought from Parian marble, or smoothest 
 ivory, and in the divinest proportions of the human form, 
 but rude, formal, and roughly hewn from the wood of the 
 yew-tree — some early eflSgy of the god, made by the simple 
 piety of the first Dorian eolonizers of Byzantium. Three 
 forms stood mute by an altar equally homely and ancient, 
 and adorned with horns, placed a little apart, and consider- 
 ably below the statue. 
 
 As the shadow of the Athenian, who halted at the 
 threshold, fell long and dark along the floor, the figures 
 turned slowly, and advanced toward him. With an inclina- 
 tion of his head, Cimon retreated from the temple, and, 
 looking round, saw abutting from the rear of the building a 
 small cell or chamber, which doubtless in former times had 
 served some priestly purpose, but now, doorless, empty, 
 desolate, showed the utter neglect into which the ancient 
 shrine of the Dorian god had fallen amidst the gay and dis- 
 solute Byzantians. To this cell Cimon directed his steps ; 
 the men he had seen in the temple followed him ; and all 
 four, with brief and formal greeting, seated themselves, 
 Cimon on a fragment of some broken column, the others 
 
 on a bench that stretched along the wall. 
 14 
 
168 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN'. 
 
 " Peers of Sparta," said the Athenian, " ye have doubtless 
 ere this revolved sufficiently the grave matter which I open- 
 ed to you in a former conference, and in which, to hear your 
 decision, I seek at your appointment these sacred precincts." 
 
 " Son of Miltiades," answered the blunt Polydorus, " you 
 inform us that it is the intention of the Athenians to dis- 
 patch a messenger to Sparta demanding the instant recall 
 of Pausanias. You ask us to second that request. But 
 without our aid the Athenians are masters to do as they 
 will. Why should we abet your quarrel against the Re- 
 gent?" 
 
 " Friend," replied Cimon, " we, the Athenians, confess to 
 no quarrel with Pausanias ; what we demand is to avoid all 
 quarrel with him or yourselves. You seem to have over- 
 looked my main arguments. Permit me to re-urge them 
 briefly. If Pausanias remains, the allies have resolved 
 openly to revolt ; if you, the Spartans, assist your chief, as 
 methinks you needs must do, you are at once- at war with 
 the rest of the Greeks. If you desert him, you leave Hel- 
 las without a chief, and we will choose one of our own. 
 Meanwhile, in the midst of our dissensions, the towns and 
 states well affected to Persia will return to her sway; and 
 Persia herself falls upon us as no longer a united enemy, 
 but an easy prey. For the sake, therefore, of Sparta and 
 of Greece, we entreat you to co-operate with us ; or, rath- 
 er, to let the recall of Pausanias be effected more by the 
 wise precaution of the Spartans than by the fierce resolve 
 of the other Greeks. So you save best the dignity of your 
 state, and so, in reality, you best serve your chief. For 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 159 
 
 less shameful to him is it to be recalled by you than to be 
 deposed by us." 
 
 " I know not," said Gelon, surlily, " what Sparta hath to 
 do at all with this foreign expedition. We are safe in our 
 own defiles." 
 
 " Pardon me, if I remind you that you were scarcely safe 
 at Thermopylae, and that had the advice Demaratus proffer- 
 ed to Xerxes been taken, and that island of Cythera, which 
 commands Sparta itself, been occupied by Persian troops, 
 as in a future time, if Sparta desert Greece, it may be, you 
 were undone. And, wisely or not, Sparta is now in com- 
 mand at Byzantium, and it behooves her to maintain, 
 with the dignity she assumes, the interests she represents. 
 Grant that Pausanias be recalled, another Spartan can suc- 
 ceed him. Whom of your countrymen would you prefer 
 to that high post, if you, O Peers, aid us in the dismissal 
 
 of Pausanias ?"* 
 
 ******* 
 
 * This chapter was left uufiuished by the author ; probably 
 with the intention of recasting it. Such an inteution, at least, 
 is indicated by the marginal marks upon the MS. — L. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 u» 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 163 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The fountain sparkled to the noonday, the sward around 
 it was sheltered from the sun by vines formed into shad- 
 owy arcades, with interlaced leaves for roof. Afar through 
 the vistas thus formed gleamed the blue of a sleeping sea. 
 
 Under the hills, or close by the margin of the fountain, 
 Cleonice was seated upon a grassy knoll, covered with 
 wild flowers. Behind her, at a little distance, grouped her 
 handmaids, engaged in their womanly work, and occasion- 
 ally conversing in whispers. At her feet reposed the grand 
 form of Pausanias. Alcman stood not far behind him, his 
 hand resting on his lyre, his gaze fixed upon the upward jet 
 of the fountain. 
 
 " Behold," said Cleonice, " how the water soars up to the 
 level of its source !" 
 
 "As my soul would soar to thy love," said the Spartan, 
 amorously. 
 
 "As thy soul should soar to the stars. O son of Her- 
 cules, when I hear thee burst into thy wild flights of am- 
 bition, I see not thy way to the stars." 
 
 "Why dost thou ever thus chide the ambition which 
 may give me thee V 
 
 " No, for thou mightest then be . as much below me as 
 thou art now above. Too humble to mate with the Her- 
 
164 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 acleid, I am too proud to stoop to the Tributary of the 
 Mede." 
 
 " Tributary for a sprinkling of water and a handful of 
 earth. Well, my pride may revolt, too, from that tribute. 
 But, alas ! what is the tribute Sparta exacts from me now ? 
 — personal liberty — freedom of soul itself. The Mede's 
 Tributary may be ^ king over millions ; the Spartan Regent 
 is a slave to the few." 
 
 " Cease — cease — cease. I will not hear thee," cried Cleo- 
 nice, placing her hands on her ears. 
 
 Pausanias gently drew them away; and holding them 
 both captive in the large elasp of his own right hand, gazed 
 eagerly into her pure, unshrinking eyes. 
 
 " Tell me," he said, " for in much thou art wiser than I 
 am, unjust though thou art. Tell me this. Look onward 
 to the future with a gaze as steadfast as now meets mine, 
 and say if thou canst discover any path, except that which 
 it pleases thee to condemn, which may lead thee and me to 
 the marriage altar 1" 
 
 Down sunk those candid eyes, and the virgin's cheek 
 grew first rosy red, and then pale, as if every drop of blood 
 had receded to the heart. 
 
 '' Speak !" insisted Pausanias, softening his haughty voice 
 to its meekest tone. 
 
 " I can not see the path to the altar," murmured Cleo- 
 nice, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. 
 
 "And if thou seest it not," returned Pausanias, " art thou 
 brave enough to say, ' Be we lost to each other for life V I, 
 though man and Spartan, am not brave enough to say that." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 165 
 
 He released her hands as he Spoke, and clashed his own 
 over his face. Both were lottg silent. 
 
 Alcman had for some moments -watched the lovers with 
 deep interest, and had caught into his listening ears the pur- 
 port of their words; He now raised his lyre, and swept his 
 hand over the chords. The touch was that of a master, 
 and the musical sounds produced their effect on all. The 
 handmaids paused from their work. Cleonice turned her 
 eyes wistfully toward the Mothon. Pausanias drew his 
 hands from his face, and cried joyously: "I accept the 
 omen. Foster-brother, I have heard that measure to a 
 hymeneal song. Sing us the words that go with the mel- 
 ody." 
 
 " Nay," said Alcman, gently, " the words are not those 
 which are sung before youth and maiden when they walk 
 over perishing flowers to bridal altars. They are the 
 words which embody a legend of the land in which the 
 heroes of old dwell^ removed from earth, yet preserved 
 from Hades." 
 
 "Ah," said Cleonice — and a strange expression, calmly 
 mournful, settled on her features — "then the words may 
 haply utter my own thoughts. Sing them to us, I pray 
 thee." 
 
 The Mothon bowed his head, and thus began i, 
 
 THE ISLE OF SPIRITS. 
 Many wonders on the ocean 
 
 By the moonlight may be seen; 
 Under moonlight on the EuXine 
 
 Kose the blessed silver isle, 
 
166 PAUBANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 As Leostratas of Croton, 
 At the Pythian god's behest, 
 
 Steer'd along the troubled waters 
 To the tranquil spirit-land. 
 
 In the earthquake of the battle, 
 When the Loorians reel'd before 
 
 Croton's shock of marching iron, 
 Strode a Phantom to their van : 
 
 Strode the shade of Locrian Ajax, 
 Guarding still the native soil, 
 
 And Leostratus, confronting, 
 Wounded fell before the spear. 
 
 Leech and herb the wound could heal not; 
 
 Said the Pythian god, " Depart, 
 Voyage o'er the troubled Euxine 
 
 To the tranquil spirit-laud. 
 
 "There abides the Locrian ^ax, 
 
 He who gave the wound shall heal ; 
 Godlike souls are in their mercy 
 Stronger yet than in their wrath." 
 
 While at ease on lulled waters 
 Kose the blessed silver isle. 
 
 Purple vines in lengthening vistas 
 Knit the hUl-top to the beach. 
 
 And the beach had sparry caverns. 
 And a floor of golden sands. 
 
 And wherever soar'd the cypress. 
 Underneath it bloom'd the rose. 
 
 Glimmer'd there amid the vine-trees, 
 Thoro' cavern, over beach. 
 
JAUSANIAS,. THE SPARTAN. 167 
 
 Life-like shadows of a beauty 
 Which the liviug Itnow no more ; 
 
 - Towering statures of great heroes, 
 
 They who fought at Thebes and Troy; 
 And with looks that poets dream of 
 Beam'd the women heroes loved. 
 
 Kingly, forth before their comrades, 
 
 As the vessel touch'd the shore. 
 Came the stateliest Two by Hymen 
 
 Ever hallow'd into One. 
 
 As He strode, the forests trembled 
 
 To the awe that crown'd his brow: 
 As She stepp'd, the oceau dimpled 
 
 To the ray that left her smile. 
 
 "Welcome hither, fearless warrior!" 
 Said a voice in which there slept 
 Thunder-sounds to scatter armies, 
 As a north wind scatters leaves. 
 
 "Welcome hither, wounded sufferer," 
 Said a voice of music low 
 As the coo of doves that nestle 
 Under summer boughs at noon. 
 
 "Who are ye, O shapes of glory!" 
 Ask'd the wondering living man : 
 Quoth the Man-ghost, " This is Helen, 
 And the Fair is for the Brave. 
 
 " Fairest prize to bravest victor ; 
 
 Whom doth Greece her bravest deem t" 
 Said Leostratus, " Achilles :" 
 
 " Bride and bridegroom then are we." 
 
168 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 "Low I kneel to tbee, Pelifles, 
 But, O marvel, she tliy bride, 
 She whose guilt unpeopled Hellas, 
 
 She whose uianiage lights fired Troy t" 
 
 Prown'd the large front of AchiUes, 
 Overshadowiug sea and sky, 
 
 Even as when between Olympus 
 And Oceanus hangs storm. 
 
 " Know, thou dullard," said Pelides, 
 " That on the funereal pyre 
 Earthly sins are purged from glory, 
 And the Soul is as the Name. 
 
 "If to her in life — a Paris, 
 If to me in life — a slave, 
 Helen's mate is here Achilles, 
 Mine — the sister of the stars. 
 
 "Naught of her survives but beauty, 
 Naught of me survives but fame ; 
 Here the Beautiful and Famous 
 Intermingle evermore." 
 
 Then throughout the Blessed Island 
 Snng aloud the Race of Light, 
 " Know, the Beautiful and Famous 
 Marry here for evermore !" 
 
 " Thy song bears a meaning deeper than its words," said 
 Fausanias ; " but if that meaning be consolation, I compre- 
 hend it not." 
 
 " I do," said Cleonice. " Singer, I pray thee draw near. 
 Let us talk of what my lost mother said was the favorite 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN, 169 
 
 tieme of the grander sages of Miletus. Let us talk of 
 what lies afar and undiscovered amidst waters more trou- 
 bled than the Euxine. Let us speak of the Land of Souls." 
 
 " Who ever returned from that land to tell us of it ?" said 
 Pausanias. " Voyagers that never voyaged thither save in 
 song." 
 
 "Son of Cleombrotus," said Alcman, "hast thou not 
 heard that in one of the cities founded by thine ancestor, 
 Hercules, and named after his own name, there yet dwells a 
 Priesthood that can summon to living eyes the Phantoms 
 of the Dead?" 
 
 "No," answered Pausanias, with the credulous wonder 
 common to eager natures which philosophy has not with- 
 drawn from the realm of superstition. 
 
 " But," asked Cleonice, " does it need the Necromancer 
 to convince us that the soul does not perish when the 
 breath leaves the lips ? If I judge the burden of thy song 
 aright, thou art not, singer, uninitiated in the divine and 
 consoling doctrines which, emanating, it is said, from the 
 schools of Miletus, establish the immortality of the soul, 
 not for demi-gods and heroes only, but for us all ; which 
 imply the soul's purification from earthly sins, in some re- 
 gions less chilling and stationary than the sunless and mel- 
 ancholy Hades." 
 
 Alcman looked at the girl surprised. 
 
 "Art thou not, maiden," said he, "one of the many fe- 
 male disciples whom the successors of Pythagoras the Sa- 
 mian have enrolled ?" 
 
 " Nay," said Cleonice, modestly ; " but my mother had 
 15 8 
 
Ho PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAW. 
 
 listened to great teachers of -wisdom, and I speak imperfect- 
 ly the thoughts I have heard her utter when she told me 
 she had no terror of the grave." 
 
 " Fair Byzantine," returned the Mothon, while Pausanias, 
 leaning his upraised face on his hand, listened mutely to 
 themes new to his mind and foreign to his Spartan culture 
 — " fair Byzantine, we in Lacedsemon, whether free or en- 
 slaved, are not educated to the subtle learning which dis- 
 tinguishes the intellect of Ionian Sages. But I, bom and 
 licensed to be a poet, converse eagerly with all who swell 
 the stores which enrich the treasure-house of- song. And 
 thus, since we have left the land of Sparta, and more espe- 
 cially in yon city, the centre of many tribes and of many 
 minds, I have picked up, as it were, desultory and scatter- 
 ed notions, which, for want of a fitting teacher, I bind and 
 arrange for myself as well as I may. And since the ideas 
 that now float through the atmosphere of Hellas are not 
 confined to the great, nay, perhaps are less visible to them 
 than to those whose eyes are not riveted on the absorbing 
 substances of ambition and power, so I have learned some- 
 thing, I know not how, save that I have listened and re- 
 flected. And here, where I have heard what sages conject- 
 ure of a world which seems so far ofE, but to which we are 
 so near that we may reach it in a moment, my interest 
 might indeed be intense. For what is this world to him 
 who came into it a slave?" 
 
 "Alcman," exclaimed Pausanias, "the foster-brother of 
 the Heracleid is no more a slave." 
 
 The Mothon bowed his head gratefully, but the expres- 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. I7l 
 
 sion on Ms face retained the same calm and sombre resig- 
 nation. 
 
 "Alas !" said Cleonice, with the delicacy of female con- 
 solation, " who in this life is really free ? Have citizens no 
 thralldom in custom and law ? Are we not all slaves ?" 
 
 " True. All slaves !" murmured the royal victor. " Envy 
 none, O AJcman. Yet," he continued, gloomily, " what is 
 the life beyond the grave which sacred tradition and an- 
 cient song holds out to us? Not thy silver island, vain 
 singer, unless it be only for an early race more immediate- 
 ly akin to the gods. Shadows in the shade are the dead, 
 at the best reviving only their habits when on earth, in 
 phantom -like delusions; aiming spectral darts, like Orion, 
 at spectral lions ; things bloodless and pulseless ; existences 
 followed to no purpose through eternity, as dreams are 
 through a night. Who cares so to live again ? Not I." 
 
 " The sages that now rise around, and speak oracles dif- 
 ferent from those heard at Delphi," said Alcman, " treat not 
 thus the soul's immortality. They begin by inquiring how 
 creation rose; they seek to find the primitive element; 
 what that may be they dispute ; some say the fiery, some 
 the airy, some the ethereal element. Their language here 
 is obscure. But it is a something which forms, harmo- 
 nizes, works, and lives on forever. And of that something 
 is the soul ; creative, harmonious, active, an element in it- 
 self. Out of its development here, that soul comes on to 
 a new development elsewhere. If here the beginning lead 
 to that new development in what we call virtue, it moves 
 to light and joy ; if it can only roll on through the grooves 
 
112 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN, 
 
 it has here made for itself, in what we call vice and crime, 
 its path is darkness and wretchedness." 
 
 " In what we call virtue — what we call vice and crime ? 
 Ah," said Pausanias, with a stem sneer, " Spartan virtue, O 
 Alcman, is what a Helot may call crime. And if ever the 
 Helot rose and shouted freedom, would he not say. This is 
 virtue ? Would the Spartan call it virtue, too, my foster- 
 hrother?" 
 
 " Son of Cleombrotus," answered Alcman, " it is not for 
 me to vindicate the acts of the master ; nor to blame the 
 slave who is of my race. Yet the sage definers of virtue 
 distinguish between the Conscience of a Polity and that of 
 the Individual Man. Self-preservation is the instinct of ev- 
 ery community, and all the ordinances ascribed to Lycurgus 
 are designed to preserve the Spartan existence. For what 
 are the pure Spartan race ? a handful of men established as 
 lords in the midst of a hostile population. Close by the 
 eyrie thine eagle fathers buUt in the rocks, hung the silent 
 Amyclse, a city of foes that cost the Spartans many gen- 
 erations to subdue. Hence thy state was a camp, its citi- 
 zens sentinels ; its children were brought up from the cradle 
 to support the stern life to which necessity devoted the 
 men. Hardship and privation were second nature. Not 
 enough to be brave ; vigilance was equally essential. Every 
 Spartan life was precious; therefore came the cunning 
 which characterizes the Spartan ; therefore the boy is per- 
 mitted to steal, but punished if detected ; therefore the 
 whole Commonwealth strives to keep aloof from the wars 
 of Greece unless itself be threatened. A single battle in a 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 173 
 
 common cause might suffice to depopulate the Spartan race, 
 and leave it at the mercy of the thousands that so reluc- 
 tantly own its dominion. Hence the ruthless determina- 
 tion to crush the spirit, to degrade the class of the enslaved 
 Helots ; hence its dread lest the slumbering brute force of 
 the Servile find in its own masses a head to teach the 
 consciousness, and a hand to guide the movements, of its 
 power. These are the necessities of the Polity; its vices 
 are the outgrowth of its necessities; and the life that so 
 galls thee, and which has sometimes rendered mad those 
 who return to it from having known another, and the dan- 
 ger that evermore surrounds the lords of a sullen multitude, 
 are the punishments of these vices. Comprehendest thou ?" 
 
 " I comprehend." 
 
 "But individuals have a conscience apart from that of 
 the Community. Every community has its errors in its 
 laws. No human laws, how skillfully soever framed, but 
 give to a national character defects as well as merits, merits 
 as well as defects. Craft, selfishness, cruelty to the sub- 
 dued, inhospitable frigidity to neighbors, make the defects 
 of the Spartan character. But," added Alcman, with a kind 
 of reluctant anguish in his voice, "the character has its 
 grand virtues, too, or would the Helots not be the masters 1 
 Valor indomitable ; grand scorn of death ; passionate ardor 
 for the State, which is so severe a mother to them ; antique 
 faith in the sacred altars; sublime devotion to what is 
 held to be duty. Are these not found in the Spartan be- 
 yond all the Greeks, as thou seest them in thy friend Ly- 
 sander — in that soul, stately, pure, compact in its own firm 
 
 15* 
 
l'i'4 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAST. 
 
 substance as a statue within a temple is in its Parian stone ? 
 But what the gods ask from man is virtue in himself, ac- 
 cording as he comprehends it. And, therefore, here all so- 
 cieties are equal ; for the gods pardon in the man the faults 
 he shares with his Community, and ask from him but the 
 good and the beautiful, such as the nature of his Commu- 
 nity will permit him to conceive and to accomplish. Thou 
 knowest that there are many kinds of music — for instance, 
 the Doric, the JEolian, the Ionian — in Hellas. The Lydians 
 have their music, the Phrygians theirs, too. The Scyth and 
 the Mede doubtless have their own. Each race prefers the 
 music it cultivates, and finds fault with the music of other 
 races. And yet a man who has learned melody and measure 
 will recognize a music in them all. So it is with virtue, 
 the music of the human soul. It differs in differing races. 
 But he who has learned to know what virtue is can rec- 
 ognize its harmonies, wherever they be heard. And thus 
 the soul that fulfills its own notions of music, and carries 
 them up to its idea of excellence, is the master soul ; and 
 in the regions to which it goes, when the breath leaves the 
 lips, it pursues the same art set free from the trammels that 
 confined and the false judgments that marred it here. For 
 then the soul is no longer Spartan, or Ionian, Lydian, Me- 
 dian, or Scythian. Escaped into the upper air, it is the cit- 
 izen of universal freedom and universal light. And hence 
 it does not live as a ghost in gloomy shades, being merely 
 a pale memory of things that have passed away ; but in its 
 primitive being as an emanation from the one divine prin- 
 ciple which penetrates everywhere, vivifies all things, and 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. l75 
 
 enjoys in all. This is what I weave together from the 
 doctrines of varying schools ; schools that collect from the 
 fields of thought flowers of different kinds which conceal, 
 by adorning it, the ligament that unites them all : this, I 
 say, O Pausanias, is my conception of the soul." 
 
 Cleonice rose softly, and, taking from her bosom a rose, 
 kissed it fervently, and laid it at the feet of the singer. 
 
 "Were this my soul," cried she, "I would ask thee to 
 bind it in the wreath." 
 
 Vague and troubled thoughts passed meanwhile through 
 the mind of the Heracleid : old ideas being disturbed and 
 dislodged, the new ones did not find easy settlement in a 
 brain occupied with ambitious schemes and a heart agitated 
 by stormy passions. In much superstitious, in much skep- 
 tical, as education had made him the one, and experience 
 but of worldly things was calculated to make him the other, 
 he followed not the wing of the philosophy which passed 
 through heights not occupied by Olympus, and dived into 
 depths where no Tartarus echoed to the wail of Cocytus. 
 
 After a pause he said, in his perplexity, 
 
 "Well mayst thou own that no Delphian oracle tells 
 thee all this. And when thou speakest of the Divine Prin- 
 ciple as one, dost thou not, presumptuous man, depopu- 
 late the Halls of Ida ? Nay, is it not Zeus -himself whom 
 thou dethronest ? is not thy Divine Principle the Fate 
 which Zeus himself must obey ?" 
 
 "There is a young man of Clazomense," answered the 
 singer, "named Anaxagoras, who, avoiding all active life, 
 though of birth the noblest, gives himself up to conterapla- 
 
176 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 tion, and whom I have listened to in the city as he passed 
 through it, on his way into Egypt. And I heard him say, 
 ' Fate is an empty name.'* Fate is blind, the Divine is All- 
 seeing." 
 
 " How !" cried Cleonice. "An empty name — she! Ne- 
 cessity, the All-compelling." 
 
 The musician drew from the harp one of the most artful 
 of Sappho's exquisite melodies. 
 
 " What drew forth that music ?" he asked, smiling. " My 
 hand and my will, from a genius not present, not visible. 
 "Was that genius a blind fate ? No, it was a grand intelli- 
 gence. Nature is to the Deity what my hand and will are 
 to the unseen genius of the musician. They obey an intel- 
 ligence and they form a music. If creation proceed from 
 an intelligence, what we call fate is but the consequence of 
 its laws. And Nature operates not in the external world 
 alone, but in the core of all life; therefore in the mind 
 of man obeying only what some supreme intelligence has 
 placed there; therefore in man's mind producing music 
 or discord, according as he has learned the prineiples of 
 harmony, that is, of good. And there be sages who declare 
 that Intelligence and Love are the same. Yet," added the 
 Mothon, with an aspect solemnly compassionate, " not the 
 love thou mcrckest by the name of Aphrodite. No mortal 
 eye hath ever seen that love within the known sphere, yet 
 all insensibly feel its reign. What keeps the world togeth- 
 
 * Aiiaxagoras was then between twenty and thirty years of 
 age. — See Eitter, vol. ii., for the sentiment here ascribed to him, 
 and a general view of his tenets. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 177 
 
 er but affection? What makes the earth bring forth its 
 fruits but the kindness which beams in the sunlight and 
 descends in the dews ? What makes the lioness watch over 
 her cubs, and the bird, with all air for its wanderings, come 
 back to the fledglings in its nest? Strike love, the con- 
 joiner, from creation, and creation returns to a void. De- 
 stroy love, the parental, and life is born but to perish. 
 Where stop the influence of love, or how limit its multi- 
 form degrees? Love guards the fatherland; crowns with 
 turrets the w^Us of the freeman. What but love binds 
 the citizens of states together, and frames and heeds the 
 laws that submit individual liberty to the rule of the com- 
 mon good? Love creates, love cements, love enters and 
 harmonizes all things. 'And as like attracts like, so love 
 attracts in the hereafter the loving souls that conceived it 
 here. From the region where it summons them, its oppo- 
 sites are excluded. There ceases war ; there ceases pain. 
 There, indeed, intermingle the beautiful and glorious, but 
 beauty purified from earthly sin, the glorious resting from 
 earthly toil. Ask ye how to know on earth where love is 
 really presiding ? Not in Paphos, not in Amathus. Wher- 
 ever thou seest beauty and good ; wherever thou seest life, 
 and that life pervaded with faculties of joy, there thou 
 seest love ; there thou shouldst recognize the Divinity." 
 
 "And Avhere I see misery and hate," said the Spartan, 
 " what should I recognize there ?" 
 
 " Master," returned the singer, " can the good come 
 without a struggle ? Is the beautiful accomplished with- 
 out strife ? Kecall the tales of primeval chaos, when, as 
 
 8* M 
 
178 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 sung the Ascraean singer, love first darted into the midst ; 
 imagine the heave and throe of joining elements ; conjure 
 up the first living shapes, born of the fluctuating slime 
 and vapor. Surely they were things incomplete, deformed 
 ghastly fragments of being, as are the dreams of a maniac. 
 Had creative Love stopped there, and then, standing on the 
 height of some fair completed world, had viewed the war- 
 ring portents, wouldst thou not have said. But these are 
 the works of Evil and Hate? Love did not stop there, it 
 ■worked on ; and out of the chaos once ensouled, this glori- 
 ous world swung itself into ether, the completed sister of 
 the Stars. Again, O my listeners, contemplate the sculptor, 
 when the block from the granite shaft first stands, rude 
 and shapeless, before him. See' him in his earlier strife 
 with the obstinate matter — how uncouth the first outline 
 of limb and feature ; unlovelier often in the rugged com- 
 mencements of shape than when the dumb mass stood 
 shapeless. If the sculptor had stopped there, the thing 
 might serve as an image for the savage of an abominable 
 creed, engaged in the sacrifice of human flesh. But he 
 pauses not, he works on. Stroke by stroke comes from 
 the stone a shape of more beauty than man himself is 
 endowed with, and in a human temple stands a celestial 
 image. 
 
 "Thus is it with the soul in the mundane sphere; it 
 works its way on through the adverse matter. We see its 
 work half completed ; we cry, ' Lo ! this is misery, this is 
 hate,' because the chaos is not yet a perfected world, and 
 the stone block is not yet a statue of Apollo. But for that 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAN. 179 
 
 reason must we pause ? No ; we must work on, till the vic- 
 tory brings the repose. 
 
 " All things come into order from the war of contraries ; 
 the elements fight and wrestle to produce the wild flower 
 at our feet ; from a wild flower man hath striven and toiled 
 to perfect the marvelous rose of the hundred leaves. Hate 
 is necessary for the energies of love, evil for the activity of 
 good ; until, I say, the victory is won, until Hate and Evil 
 are subdued, as the sculptor subdues the stone ; and then 
 rises the divine image serene forever, and rests on its pedes- 
 tal in the Uranian Temple. Lift thine eyes ; that temple is 
 yonder. Pausanias, the sculptor's work-room is the earth." 
 
 Alcman paused, and, sweeping his hand once more over 
 his lyre, chanted as follows : 
 
 "Dew-drop that weepest on the sharp-barbed thorn, 
 Why didst thou fall from Day's golden chalices t 
 'My tears bathe the thorn,' said the Dew-drop, 
 'To nourish the bloom of the rose.' 
 
 " Soul of the lufant, why to calamity 
 Comest thou wailing from the calm spirit-source T 
 'Ask of the Dew,' said the Infant, 
 ' Why it descends ou the thorn !' 
 
 "Dew-drop from storm, and soul from calamity. 
 Vanish soon — whither? let the Dew answer thee; 
 ' Have not my tears been my glory ? 
 Tears drew me up to the sun.' 
 
 "What were thine uses, that thou art glorified T 
 What did thy tears give, profiting earth or skyf 
 ' There, to the thorn-stem a blossom ; 
 Here, to the Iris a tint.'" 
 
180 PAtrSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 Alcman had modulated the tones of his voice into a 
 sweetness so plaintive and touching, that, when he paused, 
 the handmaidens had involuntarily risen and gathered round, 
 hushed and noiseless. Cleonice had lowered her veU over 
 her face and bosom ; but the heaving of its tissue betrayed 
 her half- suppressed, gentle sob; and the proud mournful- 
 ness on the Spartan's swarthy countenance had given way 
 to a soft composure, melancholy still — but melancholy as a 
 lulled though dark water, over which starlight steals through 
 disparted cloud. 
 
 Cleonice was the first to break the spell which bound 
 them all. "I would go within," she murmured, faintly. 
 "The sun, now slanting, strikes through the vine -leaves, 
 and blinds me with its glare.'' 
 
 Pausanias approached timidly, and, taking her by the 
 hand, drew her aside, along one of the grassy alleys that 
 stretched onward to the sea. 
 
 The handmaidens tarried behind, to cluster nearer round 
 the singer. They forgot he was a slave. 
 
PADSANIAS, THE BPAETAN. 181 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Thott art weeping still, Cleonice !" said the Spartan, 
 " and I have not the privilege to kiss away thy tears." 
 
 " Nay, I weep not," answered the girl, throwing up her 
 veil ; and her face was calm, if still sad — the tear yet on the 
 eyelids, but the smile upon the lip — haicpvoev yeXaoiaa. 
 " Thy singer has learned his art from a teacher heavenlier 
 than the Pierides, and its name is Hope." 
 
 " But if I understand him aright," said Pansanias, " the 
 Hope that inspires him is a goddess who blesses us little 
 on the earth." 
 
 As if the Mothon had overheard the Spartan, his voice 
 here suddenly rose behind them, singing ; 
 
 " Tliere the Beautiful aud Glorlons 
 IntermlDgle evermore." 
 
 Involuntarily both turned. The Mothon seemed as if 
 explaining to the handmaids the allegory of his marriage- 
 song upon Helen and Achilles, for his hand was raised on 
 high, and again, with an emphasis, he chanted : 
 
 "There, thronghout the Blessed Islands, 
 And amid the Bace of Light, 
 Do the Beautiful and Glorious 
 Intermingle evermore.'' 
 16 
 
182 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 " Canst thou not wait, if thou so lovest me ?" said Cleo- 
 nice, with more tenderness in her voice than it had ever 
 yet betrayed to him ; " life is very short. Hush !" she con- 
 tinued, checking the passionate interruption that burst from 
 his lips ; " I have something I would confide to thee : listen. 
 Know that in my childhood I had a dear friend, a maiden 
 a few years older than myself, and she had the divine gift 
 of trance which comes from Apollo. Often, gazing into 
 space, her eyes became fixed, and her frame still as a stat- 
 ue's ; then a shiver seized her limbs, and prophecy broke 
 from her lips. And she told me in one of these hours, 
 when, as she said, 'all space and all time seemed spread 
 before her like a sunlit ocean,' she told me of my future, 
 so far as its leaves have yet unfolded from the stem of 
 my life. Spartan, she prophesied that I should see thee — 
 and — " Cleonice paused, blushing, and then hurried on, 
 " and she told me that suddenly her eye could follow my 
 fate on the earth no more, that it vanished out of the time 
 and the space on which it gazed, and, saying it, she wept, 
 and broke into funeral song. And therefore, Pausanias, I 
 say life is very short for me at least — " 
 
 " Hold," cried Pausanias ; " torture not me, nor delude 
 thyself with the dreams of a raving girl. Lives she near? 
 Let me visit her with thee, and I will prove thy prophetess 
 an impostor." 
 
 " They whom the Priesthood of Delphi employ through- 
 out Hellas to find the fit natures for a Pythoness heard of 
 her, and heard herself. She whom thou callest impostor 
 gives the answer to perplexed nations from the Pythian 
 
PAtTSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 183 
 
 shrine. But wherefore doubt her ? — where the sorrow ? I 
 feel none. If love does rule the worlds beyond, and does 
 unite souls who love nobly here, yonder we shall meet, O 
 descendant of Hercules, and human laws will not part us 
 there !" 
 
 " Thou die ! die before me ! thou, scarcely half my years ! 
 And I be left here, with no comfort but a singer's dreamy 
 verse, not even mine ambition ! Thrones would vanish out 
 of earth, and turn to cinders in thine urn." 
 
 "Speak not of thrones," said Cleonice, with imploring 
 softness, " for the prophetess, too, spake of steps that went 
 toward a throne, and vanished at the threshold of darkness, 
 beside which sat the Furies. Speak not of thrones, dream 
 but of glory and Hellas — of what thy soul tells thee is that 
 virtue which makes life a Uranian music, and thus unites it 
 to the eternal symphony, as the breath of the single flute 
 -melts when it parts from the instrument into the great 
 concord of the choir. Knowest thou not that in the creed 
 of the Persians each mortal is watched on earth by a good 
 spirit and an evil one? And they who loved us below, or 
 to whom we have done beneficent and gentle deeds, if they 
 go before us into death, pass to the side of the good spirit, 
 and strengthen him to save and to bless thee against the 
 malice of the bad, and the bad is strengthened in his turn 
 by those whom we have injured. Wouldst thou have all 
 the Greeks whose birthright thou wouldst barter, whose 
 blood thou wouldst shed for barbaric aid to thy solitary 
 and lawless power, stand by the side of the evil Fiend ? 
 And what could I do against so many? what could my 
 
184 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 soul do," added Cleonice, with simple pathos, " by the side 
 of the kinder spirit ?" 
 
 Pausanias was wholly subdued. He knelt to the girl, he 
 kissed the hem of her robe, and for the moment ambition, 
 luxury, pomp, pride fled from his soul, and left there only 
 the grateful tenderness of the man, and the lofty instincts 
 of the hero. But just then — was it the evU spirit that 
 sent him ? — the boughs of the vine were put aside, and 
 Gongylus the Eretrian stood before them. His black eyes 
 glittered keen upon Pausanias, who rose from his knee, 
 startled and displeased. 
 
 "What brings thee hither, manf said the Eegent, 
 haughtily. 
 
 "Danger," answered Gongylus, in a hissing whisper. 
 " Lose not a moment — come." 
 
 "Danger!" exclaimed Cleonice, tremblingly, and clasp- 
 ing her hands, and all the human love at her heart was vis- 
 ible in her aspect. " Danger, and to him J" 
 
 " Danger is but as the breeze of my native air," said the 
 Spartan, smiling ; " thus I draw it in and thus breathe it 
 away. I follow thee, Gongylus. Take my greeting, Cleo- 
 nice — the Good to the Beautiful. Well, then, keep Alcman 
 yet a while to sing thy kind face to repose, and this time 
 let him tune his lyre to songs of a more Dorian strain — 
 songs that show what a Heracleid thinks of danger." 
 
 He waved his hand, and the two men, striding hastily, 
 passed along the vine alley, darkened its vista for a few 
 minutes, then vanishing down the descent to the beach, the 
 wide blue sea again lay lone and still before the eyes of the 
 Byzantine maid. 
 
FAUBANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 185 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Pausanias and the Eretrian halted on the shore. 
 
 " Now speak," said the Spartan Regent. " Where is the 
 danger 3" 
 
 " Before thee," answered Gongylus, and his hand pointed 
 to the ocean. 
 
 "I see the fleet of the Greeks in the harbor — I see the 
 flag of my galley above the forest of their masts. I see de- 
 tached vessels skimming along the waves hither and thither 
 as in holiday and sport ; but discipline slackens where no 
 foe dares to show himself. Eretrian, I see no danger." 
 
 " Yet danger is there, and where danger is thou shouldst 
 be. I have learned from my spies, not an hour since, that 
 there is a conspiracy formed — a mutiny on the eve of an 
 outburst. Thy place now should be in thy galley." 
 
 " My boat waits yonder in that creek, overspread by the 
 wild shrubs," answered Pausanias ; " a few strokes of the 
 oar, and I am where thou seest. And in truth, without 
 thy summons, I should have been on board ere sunset, see- 
 ing that on the morrow I have ordered a general review of 
 the vessels of the fleet. Was that to be the occasion for the 
 mutiny ?" 
 
 " So it is supposed." 
 
 " I shall see the faces of the mutineers," said Pausanias, 
 16* 
 
186 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 with a calm visage, and an eye whicli seemed to brighten 
 the very atmosphere. " Thou shakest thy head ; is this 
 all?" 
 
 "Thou art not a bird — this moment in one place, that 
 moment in another. There, with yon armament, is the dan- 
 ger thou canst meet. But yonder sails a danger which 
 thou canst not, I fear me, overtake." 
 
 " Yonder !" said Pausanias, his eye following the hand of 
 the Eretrian. " I see naught save the white wing of a sea- 
 gull — perchance, by its dip into the water, it foretells a 
 storm." 
 
 " Farther off than the sea-gull, and seeming smaller than 
 the white spot of its wing, seest thou nothing ?" 
 
 "A dim speck on the farthest horizon, if mine eyes 
 mistake not." 
 
 " The speck of a saU that is bound to Sparta. It carries 
 with it a request for thy recall." 
 
 This time the cheek of Pausanias paled, and his voice 
 slightly faltered as he said, 
 
 "Art thou sure of this?" 
 
 " So I hear that the Samian captain, Uliades, has boast- 
 ed at noon in the public baths." 
 
 " A Samian ! — is it only a Samian who hath ventured to 
 address to Sparta a complaint of her General ?" 
 
 "From what I could gather," replied Gongylus, "the 
 complaint is more powerfully backed. But I have not, as 
 yet, heard more, though I conjecture that Athens has not 
 been silent, and before the vessel sailed Ionian captains were 
 seen to come with joyous faces from the lodgings of Cimon." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 187 
 
 The Regent's brow grew yet more troubled. " Cimon, 
 of all the Greeks out of Laconia, is the one whose word 
 would weigh most in Sparta. But my Spartans themselves 
 are not suspected of privity and connivance in this mis- 
 sion «" 
 
 " It is not said that they are." 
 
 Pausanias shaded his face with his hand for a moment in 
 deep thought. Gongylus continued, 
 
 " If the Ephors recall thee before the Asian army is on 
 the frontier, farewell to the sovereignty of Hellas !" 
 
 " Ha !" cried Pausanias, " tempt me not. Thinkest thou 
 I need other tempter than I have here 1" — smiting his breast. 
 
 Gongylus "recoiled in surprise. "Pardon me, Pausanias, 
 but temptation is another word for hesitation. I dreamed 
 that I could not tempt; I did not know that thou didst 
 hesitate." 
 
 The Spartan remained silent. 
 
 " Are not thy messengers on the road to the great king ? 
 — nay, perhaps already they have reached him. Didst thou 
 not say how intolerable to thee would be life henceforth in 
 the iron thraUdom of Sparta — and now 3" 
 
 "And now — I forbid thee to question me more. Thou 
 hast performed thy task ; leave me to mine." 
 
 He sprung with the spring of the mountain goat from 
 the crag on which he stood — over a precipitous chasm, 
 lighted on a narrow ledge, from which a slip of the foot 
 would have been sure death, another bound yet more fear- 
 ful, and his whole weight hung suspended by the bough of 
 the ilex which he grasped with a single hand ; then from 
 
188 PAU8ANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 bough to bougt, from crag to crag, the Eretrian saw him 
 descending till he vanished amidst the trees that darkened 
 over the fissures at the foot of the cliff. 
 
 And before Gongylus had recovered his amaze at the 
 almost preterhuman agility and vigor of the Spartan, and 
 his dizzy sense at the contemplation of such peril braved by 
 another, a boat shot into the sea from the green creek, and 
 he saw Pausanias seated beside Lysander on one of the 
 benches, and conversing with him, as if in calm earnestness, 
 while the ten rowers sent the boat toward the fleet with 
 the swiftness of an arrow to its goal. 
 
 "Lysander," said Pausanias, "hast thou heard that the 
 lonians have offered to me the insult of a mission to the 
 Ephors demanding my recall ?" 
 
 " No. Who would tell me of insult to thee 2" 
 
 "But hast thou any conjecture that other Spartans 
 around me, and who love me less than thou, would ap- 
 prove, nay, have approved, this embassy of spies and mal- 
 contents 1" 
 
 " I think none have so approved. I fear some would so 
 approve. The Spartans round thee would rejoice did they 
 know that the pride of their armies, the Victor of Platsea, 
 were once more within their walls." 
 
 " Even to the danger of Hellas from the Mede ?" 
 
 " They would rather all Hellas were Medized than Pau- 
 sanias the Heracleid." 
 
 " Boy, boy," said Pausanias, between his ground teeth, 
 " dost thou not see that what is sought is the disgrace of 
 Pausanias the Heracleid? Grant that I am recalled from 
 
PAtJaANIAS, THB SPARTAN. 189 
 
 the head of this armament, and on the charge of lonians, 
 and I am dishonored in the eyes of all Greece. Dost thou 
 remember in the last Olympiad that when Themistocles, the 
 only rival now to me in glory, appeared on the Altis, as- 
 sembled Greece rose to greet and do him honor? And if 
 I, deposed, dismissed, appeared at the next Olympiad, how 
 would assembled Greece receive me ? Couldst thou not see 
 the pointed finger and hear the muttered taunt, 'That is 
 Pausanias, whom the lonians banished from Byzantium.' 
 No, I must abide here ; I must prosecute the vast plans 
 which shall dwarf into shadow the petty genius of The- 
 mistocles. I must counteract this mischievous embassy to 
 the Ephors. I must send to them an embassador of my 
 own. Lysander, wUt thou go, and, burying in thy bosom 
 thine own Spartan prejudices, deem that thou canst only 
 serve me by proving the reasons why I should remain here ; 
 pleading for me, arguing for me, and winning my suit?" 
 
 " It is for thee to command, and for me to obey thee," 
 answered Lysander, simply. " Is not that the duty of sol- 
 dier to chief? When we converse as friends I may con- 
 tend with thee in speech. When thou sayest, ' Do this,' I 
 execute thine action. To reason with thee would be revolt." 
 
 Pausanias placed his clasped hands on the young man's 
 shoulder, and, leaving them there, impressively said : 
 
 "I select. thee for this mission because thee alone can I 
 trust. And of me hast thou a doubt? Tell me." 
 
 " If I saw thee taking the Persian gold, I should say that 
 the Demon had mocked mine eyes with a delusion. Never 
 could I doubt, unless — unless — " 
 
190 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 "Unless what?" 
 
 " Thou wert standing under Jove's sky, against the arms 
 of Hellas." 
 
 " And then, if some other chief bid thee raise thy sword 
 against me, thou art Spartan, and wouldst obey ?" 
 
 "I am Spartan, and can not believe that I should ever 
 have a cause, or listen to a command, to raise my sword 
 against the chief I now serve and love," replied Lysander. 
 
 Pausanias withdrew his hands from the young man's 
 broad shoulder. He felt humbled beside the quiet truth of 
 that sublime soul. His own deceit became more black to 
 his conscience. " Methinks," he said, tremulously, " I will 
 not send thee, after all — and perhaps the news may be 
 false." 
 
 The boat had now gained the fleet, and, steering amidst 
 the crowded triremes, made its way toward the floating ban- 
 ner of the Spartan Serpent. More immediately round the 
 General's galley were the vessels of the Peloponnesian allies, 
 by whom he was still honored. A welcoming shout rose 
 from the seamen lounging on their decks as they caught 
 sight of the renowned Heracleid. Ciraon, who was on his 
 own galley, at some distance, heard the shout. 
 
 " So Pausanias," he said, turning to the oflBcers round 
 him, " has deigned to come on board, to direct, I suppose, 
 the manoeuvres for to-morrow." 
 
 " I believe it is but the form of a review for manoeuvres," 
 said an Athenian officer, " in which Pausanias will inspect 
 the various divisions of the fleet, and, if more be intended, 
 will give the requisite orders for a subsequent day. >No ar- 
 
PAtrSANIAS, THB BPABTAN. 19t 
 
 rangements demanding much preparation can be antici- 
 pated, for Antagoras, the rich Chian, gives a great banquet 
 this day — a supper to the principal captains of the Isles." 
 
 "A frank and hospitable reveler is Antagoras," answer- 
 ed Cimon. " He would have extended his invitation to the 
 Athenians — me included — but in their name I declined." 
 
 " May I ask wherefore 1" said the officer who had before 
 spoken. " Cimon is not held averse to wine-cup and myr- 
 tle bough." 
 
 "But things are said over some wine -cups and under 
 some myrtle boughs," answered Cimon, with a quiet laugh, 
 " which it is imprudence to hear, and would be treason to 
 repeat. Sup with me here on deck, friends — a supper for 
 sober companions — sober as the Laconian Syssitia, and let 
 not Spartans say that our manners are spoiled by the lux- 
 uries of Byzantium." 
 
192 FAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 In an immense peristyle of a house wliicli a Byzantine 
 noble, ruined by lavish extravagance, had been glad to cede 
 to the accommodation of Antagoras and other oflBcers of 
 Chios, the young rival of Pausanias feasted the chiefs of 
 the JEgean. Hoveever modern civilization may in some 
 things surpass the ancient, it is certainly not in luxury and 
 splendor. And although the Hellenic States had not, at 
 that period, aimed at the pomp of show and the refine- 
 ments of voluptuous pleasure which preceded their decline, 
 and although they never did carry luxury to the wondrous 
 extent which it reached in Asia, or even in Sicily, yet even 
 at that time a wealthy sojourner in such a city as Byzantium 
 could command an entertainment that no monarch in our 
 age would venture to parade before royal guests, and submit 
 to the criticism of taxpaying subjects. 
 
 The columns of the peristyle were of dazzling alabaster, 
 with their capitals richly gilt. The space above was roof- 
 less ; but an immense awning of purple, richly embroidered 
 in Persian looms — a spoil of some gorgeous Mede — shaded 
 the feasters from the summer sky. The couches on which 
 the banqueters reclined were of citron -wood, inlaid with 
 ivory, and covered with the tapestries of Asiatic looms. 
 At the four corners of the vast hall played four fountains. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 193 
 
 and their spray sparkled to a blaze of light from colossal 
 candelabra, in which burned perfumed oil. The guests 
 were not assembled at a single table, but in small groups ; 
 to each group its tripod of exquisite workmanship. To that 
 feast of fifty revelers no less than seventy cooks had con- 
 tributed the inventions of their art, but under one great mas- 
 ter, to whose care the banquet had been consigned by the 
 liberal host, and who ransacked earth, sky, and sea for dain- 
 ties more various than this degenerate age ever sees ac- 
 cumulated at a single board. And the epicure who has but 
 ■ glanced over the elaborate page of Athenaeus must own with 
 melancholy self-humiliation that the ancients must have car- 
 ried the art of flattering the palate to a perfection as abso- 
 lute as the art which built the Parthenon and sculptured out 
 of gold and ivory the Olympian Jove. But the first course, 
 with its profusion of birds, flesh, and fishes, its marvelous 
 combinations of forced meats, and inventive poetry of 
 sauces, was now over. And in the interval preceding that 
 second course, in which gastronomy put forth its most ex- 
 quisite masterpieces, the slaves began to remove the tables, 
 soon to be replaced. Vessels of fragrant waters, in which 
 the banqueters dipped their fingers, were handed round; 
 perfumes, which the Byzantine marts collected from every 
 clime, escaped from their precious receptacles. 
 
 Then were distributed the garlands. With these each 
 guest crowned locks that steamed with odors ; and in them 
 were combined the flowers that most charm the eye, with 
 bud or herb that most guards from the head the fumes of 
 
 wine: with hyacinth and flax, with golden asphodel and 
 ir 9 N 
 
194 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 silver lily, the green of ivy and parsley leaf were thus en- 
 twined ; and above all, the rose, said to convey a delicious 
 coolness to the temples on which it bloomed. And now for 
 the first time wine came to heighten the spirits and test the 
 charm of the garlands. Each, as the large goblet passed to 
 him, poured from the brim, before it touched his lips, his 
 libation to the good spirit. And as Antagoras, rising first, 
 set this pious example, out from the farther ends of the 
 hall, behind the fountains, burst a concert of flutes, and. the 
 great Hellenic Hymn of the Paean. ' 
 
 As this ceased, the fresh tables appeared before the ban- 
 queters, covered with all the fruits in season, and with those 
 triumphs in confectionery, of which honey was the main 
 ingredient, that well justified the favor in which the Greeks 
 held the bee. 
 
 Then, instead of the pure juice of the grape, from which 
 the libation had been poured, came the wines, mixed at 
 least three parts with water, and deliciously cooled. 
 
 Up again rose Antagoras, and every eye turned to him. 
 
 " Companions," said the young Chian, " it is not held in 
 free states well for a man to seize by himself upon supreme 
 authority. We deem that a magistracy should only be ob- 
 tained by the votes of others. Nevertheless, I venture to 
 think that the latter plan does not always insure to us a 
 good master. I believe it was by election that we Greeks 
 have given to ourselves a generalissimo, not contented, it is 
 said, to prove the invariable wisdom of that mode of gov- 
 ernment; wherefore this seems an occasion to revive the 
 good custom of tyranny. And I propose to do so in my 
 
PAtrSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 195 
 
 person by proclaiming myself Symposiarch and absolute 
 Promander in the Commonwealth here assembled. But if 
 ye prefer the chance of the die — " 
 
 "No, no," cried the guests almost universally; "Antago- 
 ras, the Symposiarch, we submit. Issue thy laws." 
 
 " Hearken, then, and obey. First, then, as to the strength 
 of the wine. Behold the crater in which there are three 
 Naiades to one Dionysos. He is a match for them ; not for 
 more. No man shall put into his wine more water than the 
 slaves have mixed. Yet if any man is so diffident of the 
 god that he thinks three Naiades too much for him, he may 
 omit one or two, and let the wine and the water fight it out 
 upon equal terms. So much for the quality of the drink 
 As to quantity, it is a question to be deliberated hereafter 
 And now this cup to Zeus the Preserver." 
 
 The toast went round. 
 
 " Music, and the music of Lydia !" then shouted Antag 
 oras, and resumed his place on the couch beside Uliades. 
 
 The music proceeded, the wines circled. 
 
 " Friend," whispered Uliades to the host, " thy father lett 
 thee wines, I know. But if thou givest many banquets 
 like this, I doubt if thou wilt leave wines to thy son." 
 
 " I shall die childless, perhaps," answered the Chian ; 
 " and any friend will give me enough to pay Charon's fee 
 across the Styx." 
 
 " That is a melancholy reflection," said Uliades, " and 
 there is no subject of talk that pleases me less than that 
 same Styx. "Why dost thou bite thy lip, and choke the 
 sigh ? By the gods ! art thou not happy ?" 
 
196 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 " Happy !" repeated Antagoras, -with a bitter smile. " Oh 
 yes !" 
 
 " Good. Cleonice tonnents thee no more. I myself have 
 gone through thy trials ; ay, and oftentimes. Seven times 
 at Samos, five at Ehodes, once at Miletus, and forty-three 
 times at Corinth, have I been an impassioned and unsuc- 
 cessful lover. Courage ; I love still." 
 
 Antagoras turned away. By this time the hall was yet 
 more crowded, for many not invited to the supper came, 
 as was the custom with the Greeks, to the Symposium ; 
 but these were all of the Ionian race. 
 
 " The music is dull without the dancers," cried the host. 
 " Ho, there ! the dancing-girls. Now would I give all the 
 rest of my wealth to see among these girls one face that 
 yet but for a moment could make me forget — " 
 
 " Forget what, or whom ?" said Uliades ; " not Cleonice ?" 
 
 "Man, man, wilt thou provoke me to strangle thee?" 
 muttered Antagoras. 
 
 Uliades edged himself away. 
 
 " Ungrateful !" he cried. " What are a hundred Byzan- 
 tine girls to one tried male friend ?" 
 
 " I will not be ungrateful, Uliades, if thou stand by my 
 side against the Spartan." 
 
 " Thou art, then, bent upon this perilous hazard ?" 
 
 "Bent on driving Pausanias from Byzantium, or into 
 Hades — yes." 
 
 "Touch!" said Uliades, holding out his right hand. 
 "By Cypris, but these girls dance hke the daughters of 
 Ocearius ; every step undulates as a wave." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 197 
 
 Antagoras motioned to his cup-bearer. " Tell the leader 
 of that dancing choir to come hither." The cup-bearer 
 obeyed. 
 
 A man with a solemn air came to the foot of the Chian's 
 couch, bowing low. He was an Egyptian — one of the 
 meanest castes. 
 
 •' Swarthy friend," said Antagoras, " didst thou ever hear, 
 of the Pyrrhic dance of the Spartans ?" 
 
 " Surely, of all dances am I teacher and preceptor." 
 
 " Your girls know it, then ?" 
 
 " Somewhat, from having seen it ; but not fyonj practice. 
 'Tis a male dance and a warlike dance, magnaninious, but, 
 in this instance, untutored, Chian !" 
 
 " Hist, and listen." Antagoras whispere4: Tb^ Egyptian 
 nodded his head, returned to the dancing-girls, and when 
 their measure had ceased, gathered them round him. 
 
 Antagoras %gain rose. 
 
 " Companions, we are bound now to do homage to our 
 masters — the pleasant, affable, and familiar warriors of 
 Sparta." 
 
 At this the guests gave way to their applauding laughter. 
 
 " And, therefore, these delicate maidens will present to us 
 that flowing and Amathusian dance which the Graces taught 
 to Spartan sinews. Ho, there — begin !" 
 
 The Egyptian had by this time told the dancers what 
 
 they were expected to do ; and they came forward with an 
 
 affectation of stern dignity, the burlesque humor of which 
 
 delighted all those lively revelers. And when, with adroit 
 
 mimicry, their slight arms and mincing steps mocked that 
 17" 
 
198 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 grand and masculine measure so associated with images of 
 Spartan austerity and decorum, the exhibition became so 
 humorously ludicrous that perhaps a Spartan himself would 
 have been compelled to laugh at it. But the merriment 
 rose to its height, when the Egyptian, who had withdrawn 
 for a few minutes, re -appeared with a Median robe and 
 mitred cap, and, calling out in his barbarous African accent, 
 " Way for the conqueror !" threw into his mien and gest- 
 ures all the likeness to Pausanias himself which a practiced 
 mime and posture -master could attain. The laughter of 
 Antagoras alone was not loud — it was low and sullen, as if 
 sobs of rage were stifling it ; but his eye watched the effect 
 produced, and it answered the end he had in view. 
 
 As the dancers now, while the laughter was at its loudest 
 roar, vanished behind the draperies, the host rose, and his 
 countenance was severe and grave. 
 
 " Companions, one cup more, and let it be to Harmodius 
 and Aristogiton. Let the song in their honor come only 
 from the lips of free citizens, of our Ionian comrades. 
 Uliades, begin ! I pass to thee a myrtle bough ; and under 
 it I pass a sword." 
 
 Then he began the famous hymn ascribed to Callistratus, 
 commencing with a clear and sonorous voice, and the guests 
 repeating each stanza after him with the enthusiasm which 
 the words usually produced among the Hellenic republicans : 
 
 I in a myrtle bough the sword will carry. 
 As did Harmodius and Aristogiton ; 
 When tbey the tyrant slew. 
 And back to Athens gave her equal laws. 
 
PAUSANIAS., THE SPARTAN. 199 
 
 Thon art in nowise dead, best-loved Harmodius ; 
 Isles of the Blessed ai-e, tbey say, thy dwelling; 
 There swift Achilles dwells, 
 And there, they say, with thee dwells Diomed. 
 
 I in a myrtle bough the sword will carry, 
 As did Harmodius and Aristogiton, 
 When to Athene's shrine 
 They gave their sacrifice — a tyrant man. 
 
 Ever on earth for both of you lives glory, 
 O loved Harmodius, loved Aristogiton, 
 For ye the tyrant slew. 
 And back to Athens ye gave equal laws. 
 
 When the song had ceased, the dancers, the musicians, 
 the attendant slaves, had withdrawn from the hall^ dismiss- 
 ed by a whispered order from Antagoras. 
 
 He, now standing up, took from his brows the floral 
 crown, and, first sprinkling them with wine, replaced the 
 flowers by a wreath of poplar. The assembly, a little while 
 before so noisy, was hushed into attentive and earnest si- 
 lence. The action of Antagoras, the expression of his 
 countenance, the exclusion of the slaves, prepared all present 
 for something more than the convivial address of a Sympo- 
 siarch. 
 
 " Men and Greeks," said the Chian, " on the evening be- 
 fore Teucer led his comrades in exile over the wide waters 
 to found a second Salamis, he sprinkled his forehead with 
 Lysean dews, being crowned with the poplar leaves — em- 
 blems of hardihood and contest ; and, this done, he invited 
 his companions to dispel their cares for the night, that 
 
260 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 their hearts might with more cheerful hope and bolder 
 courage meet what the morrow might bring to them on the 
 ocean. I imitate the ancient hero, in honor less of him 
 than of the name of Salamis. We, too, have a Salamis to 
 remember, and a second Salamis to found. Can ye forget 
 that, had the advice of the Spartan leader Eurybiades been 
 adopted, the victory of Salamis would never have been 
 achieved ? He was for retreat to the Isthmus ; he was for 
 defending the Peloponnese, because in the Peloponnesus 
 was the unsocial, selfish Sparta, and leaving the rest of Hel- 
 las to the armament of Xerxes. Themistocles spoke against 
 the ignoble counsel ; the Spartan raised his staff to strike 
 him. Ye know the Spartan manners. 'Strike if you will, 
 but hear me,' cried Themistocles. He was heard, Xerxes 
 was defeated, and Hellas saved. I am not Themistocles ; 
 nor is there a Spartan staff to silence free lips. But I 
 too say. Hear me ! for a new Salamis is to be won. What 
 was the former Salamis ? — the victory that secured independ- 
 ence to the Greeks, and delivered them from the Mede and 
 the Medizing traitors. Again we must fight a Salamis. 
 Where, ye say, is the Mede ? — not at Byzantium, it is true, 
 in person ; but the Medizing traitor is here." 
 
 A profound sensation thrilled through the assembly. 
 
 "Enough of humility do the maritime lonians practice 
 when they accept the hegemony of a Spartan landsman ; 
 enough of submission do the free citizens of Hellas show 
 when they suffer the imperious Dorian to sentence them to 
 punishments only fit for slaves. But when the Spartan 
 appears in the robes of the Mede, when the imperious Do- 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 201 
 
 rian places in the governmeiit of a city, wMch our joint 
 arms now occupy, a recreant who has changed an Eretrian 
 birthright for a Persian satrapy ; when prisoners, made by 
 the valor of all Hellas, mysteriously escape the care of the 
 Lacedaemonian, who wears their garb, and imitates their 
 manners — say, ye Greeks, O ye warriors, if there is no 
 second Salamis to conquer !" 
 
 The animated words, and the wine already drunk, pro- 
 duced on the banqueters an effect sudden, electrical, uni- 
 versal. They had come to the hall gay revelers; they 
 were prepared to leave the hall stem conspirators. 
 
 Their hoarse murmur was as the voice of the sea he- 
 fore a storm. 
 
 Antagoras surveyed them with a fierce joy, and, with a 
 change of tone, thus continued: "Ye understand me, ye 
 know already that a delivery is to be achieved. I pass on : 
 I submit to your wisdom the mode of achieving it. While 
 I speak, a swift-sailing vessel bears to Sparta the complaints 
 of myself, of Uliades, and of many Ionian captains here 
 present, against the Spartan General. And although the 
 Athenian chiefs decline to proffer complaints of their own, 
 lest their State, which has risked so much for the common 
 cause, be suspected of using the admiration it excites for 
 the purpose of subserving its ambition, yet Cimon, the 
 young son of the great Miltiades, who has ties of friendship 
 and hospitality with families of high mark in Sparta, has 
 been persuaded to add to our public- statement a private 
 letter to the effect that, speaking for himself, not in the 
 name of Athens, he deems our complaints justly founded, 
 
 9* 
 
202 PAUSANIAS, THB SPARTAN. 
 
 and the recall of Pausanias expedient for the discipline of 
 the armament. But can we say what effect this embassy 
 may have upon a sullen and haughty government ; against, 
 too, a royal descendant of Hercules; against the General 
 who at Plataea flattered Sparta with a renown to which her 
 absence from Marathon, and her meditated flight from 
 Salamis, gave but disputable pretensions ?" 
 
 "And," interrupted TJliades, rising, "and — if, Antag- 
 pras, I may crave pardon for standing a moment between 
 thee and thy guests — and this is not all, for even if they re- 
 call Pausanias, they may send us another general as bad, and 
 without the fame which somewhat reconciles our Ionian 
 pride to the hegemony of a Dorian. Now, whatever my 
 quarrel with Pausanias, I am- less against a man than a 
 principle. I am a seaman, and against the principle of hav- 
 ing for the commander of the Greek fleet a Spartan who 
 does not know how to handle a sail. I am an Ionian, and 
 against the principle of placing the Ionian race under the 
 imperious domination of a Dorian. Therefore I say, now 
 is the moment to emancipate our blood and our ocean — the 
 one from an alien, the other from a landsman. And the 
 hegemony of the Spartan should pass away." 
 
 XJliades sat down with an applause more clamorous than 
 had greeted the eloquence of Antagoras, for the pride of 
 race and of special calling is ever more strong in its im- 
 pulses than hatred to a single man. And, despite of all that 
 could be said against Pausanias, still these warriors felt awe 
 for his greatness, and remembered that at Platsea, where 
 all were brave, he had been proclaimed the bravest. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN, 203 
 
 Antagoras, with the quietness of a republican Greet, 
 trained from earliest youth to sympathy with popular as- 
 semblies, saw that Uliades had touched the right key, and 
 swallowed down with a passionate gulp his personal wrath 
 against his rival, which might otherwise have been car- 
 ried too far, and have lost him the advantage he had 
 gained. 
 
 "Eightly and wisely speaks Uliades," said he. "Our 
 cause is that of our whole race ; and clear has that true 
 Samian made it to you all, O lonians and captains of the 
 seas, that we must not wait for the lordly answer Sparta 
 may return to our embassage. Ye know that while night 
 lasts we must return to our several vessels; an hour more, 
 and we shah be on deck. To-morrow Fausanias reviews 
 the fleet, and we may be some days before we return to 
 land, and can meet in concert. Whether to-morrow or 
 later the occasion for action may present itself, is a ques- 
 tion I would pray you to leave to those whom you intrust 
 with the discretionary power to act." 
 
 " How act ?" cried a Lesbian oflBcer. 
 
 "Thus would I suggest," said Antagoras, with well-dis- 
 sembled humility : " let the captains of one or more Ionian 
 vessels perform such a deed of open defiance against Fausa- 
 nias as leaves to them no option between death and success ; 
 having so done, hoist a signal, and, sailing at once to the 
 Athenian ships, place themselves under the Athenian leader; 
 all the rest of the Ionian captains will then follow their 
 example. And then, too numerous and too powerful to be 
 punished for a revolt, we shall proclaim a revolution, and 
 
204 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 declare that we willall sail back to our native havens unless 
 we have the liberty of choosing our own hegemon." 
 
 " But," said the Lesbian who had before spoken, " the 
 Athenians as yet have held back and declined our overtures, 
 and without them we are not strong enough to cope with 
 the Peloponnesian allies." 
 
 " The Athenians will be compelled to protect the lonians, 
 if the lonians in sufficient force demand it," said Uliades. 
 " For as we are naught without them, they are naught with- 
 out us. Take the course suggested by Antagoras: I ad- 
 vise it. Ye know me, a plain man, but I speak not with- 
 out warrant. And before the Spartans can either con- 
 temptuously dismiss our embassy or send us out another 
 general, the Ionian wUl be the mistress of the Hellenic 
 seas, and Sparta, the land of oligarchies, will no more have 
 the power to oligarchize democracy. Otherwise, believe 
 me, that power she has iiow from her hegemony, and that 
 power, whenever it suit her, she will use." 
 
 Uliades was chiefly popular in the fleet as a rough, good 
 seaman, as a blunt and somewhat vulgar humorist. But 
 whenever he gave advice, the advice carried with it a 
 weight not always bestowed upon superior genius, because, 
 from the very commonness of his nature, he reached at the 
 common sense and the common feelings of those whom 
 he addressed. He spoke, in short, what an ordinary man 
 thought and felt. He was a practical man, brave, but not 
 overaudacious, not likely to run himself or others into idle 
 dangers ; and when he said he had a wan-ant for his advice, 
 he was believed to speak from his knowledge of the course 
 
liAirSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 205 
 
 WLicli the Athenian chiefs, Aristides and Cimon, would 
 pursue if the plan recommended were actively executed. 
 
 " I am convinced," said the Lesbian. "And since all are 
 grateful to' Athens for that final stand against the Mede, to 
 which all Greece owes her liberties, and since the chief of 
 her armaments here is a man of so modest a virtue, and so 
 clement a justice, as we all acknowledge in Aristides, fitting 
 is it for us lonians to constitute Athens the maritime sov- 
 ereign of our race." 
 
 "Are ye all of that mind?" cried Antagoras, and was an- 
 swered by the universal shout, " We are — all !" or if the 
 shout was not universal, none heeded the few whom fear 
 or prudence might keep silent. "All that remains, then, is 
 to appoint the captain who shall hazard the first danger and 
 make the first signal. For my part, as one of the electors, 
 T give my vote for Uliades, and this is my ballot." He 
 took from his temples the poplar wreath, and cast it into a 
 silver vase on the tripod placed before him. 
 
 " TJliades by acclamation !" cried several voices. 
 
 " I accept," said the Ionian ; " and as Ulysses, a prudent 
 man, asked for a colleague in enterprises of danger, so I ask 
 for a companion in the hazard I undertake, and I select 
 Antagoras." 
 
 This choice received the same applauding acquiescence as 
 that which had greeted the nomination of the Ionian. 
 
 And in the midst of the applause was heard without the 
 sharp, shrill sound of the Phrygian pipe. 
 
 " Comrades," said Antagoras, " ye hear the summons to 
 
 our ships ? Our boats are waiting at the steps of the quay, 
 18 
 
206 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 by the Temple of Neptune. Two sentences more, and then 
 to sea. First, silence and fidelity ; the finger to the lip, the 
 right hand raised to Zeus Horkios. For a pledge, here is 
 an oath. Secondly, be this the signal : whenever ye shall 
 see TJliades and myself steer our triremes out of the line in 
 which they may be marshaled, look forth and watch, breath- 
 less ; and the instant you perceive that beside our flags of 
 Samos and Chios we hoist the ensign of Athens, draw off 
 from your stations, and follow the wake of our keels, to the 
 Athenian navy. Then, as the gods direct us. Hark ! a sec- 
 ond time shrills the fife." 
 
FAtlSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 207 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 At the very hour when the Ionian captains were hur- 
 rying toward their boats Pausanias was pacing his decks 
 alone, with irregular strides, and through the cordage and 
 the masts the starshine came fitfully on his troubled feat- 
 ures. Long undecided he paused, as the waves sparkled to 
 the stroke of oars, and beheld the boats of the f casters mak- 
 ing toward the division of the fleet in which lay the navy of 
 the isles. Farther on, remote and still, anchored the ships 
 of Athens. He clenched his hand, and turned from the 
 sight. 
 
 "To lose an empire," he muttered, "and without a 
 struggle ; an empire over yon mutinous rivals, over yon hap- 
 py and envied Athens: an empire — where its limits? — if 
 Asia puts her armies to my lead, why should not Asia be 
 Hellenized, rather than Hellas be within the tribute of the 
 Mede ? Dull, dull, stolid Sparta ! methinks I could pardon 
 the slavery thou inflictest on my life, didst thou but leave 
 unshackled my intelligence. But each vast scheme to be 
 thwarted, every thought for thine own aggrandizement be- 
 yond thy barren rocks, met and inexorably baffled by a self- 
 ish aphorism, a cramping saw — ' Sparta is wide eno' for 
 Spartans.' — 'Ocean is the element of the fickle.' — 'What 
 matters the ascendency of Athens? — it does not cross the 
 
208 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 Isthmus.' — ' Venture nothing where I want nothing.' Why, 
 this is the soul's prison ! Ah, had I been bom Athenian, 
 I had never uttered a thought against my country. She 
 and I would have expanded and aspired together." 
 
 Thus arguing with himself, he at length confirmed his 
 resolve, and with a steadfast step entered his pavilion. 
 There, not on broidered cushions, but by -preference on the 
 hard floor, without coverlet, lay Lysander calmly sleeping, 
 his crimson warlike cloak, weather-stained, partially wrapped 
 around him ; no pillow to his head but his own right arm. 
 
 By the light of the high lamp that stood within the 
 pavUion, Pausanias contemplated the slumberer. 
 
 " He says he loves me, and yet can sleep," he murmured, 
 bitterly. Then, seating himself before a table, he began to 
 write, with slowness and precision, whether as one not ac- 
 customed to the task or weighing every word. 
 
 When he had concluded, he again turned his eyes to the 
 .sleeper. "How tranquil! Was my sleep ever as serene 1 
 ■I will not disturb him to the last." 
 
 The fold of the curtain was drawn aside, and Alcman en- 
 tered noiselessly. 
 
 " Thou hast obeyed ?" whispered Pausanias. 
 
 "Yes; the ship is ready, the wind favors. Hast thou 
 decided?" 
 
 "I have," said Pausanias, with compressed lips. 
 
 He rose, and touched Lysander lightly, but the touch 
 sufficed; the sleeper woke on the instant, casting aside 
 slumber easily as a garment. 
 
 "My Pausanias," said the young Spartan, "I am at 
 
PAUSANIAS, THfi SPARTAN. 209 
 
 thine orders — shall I go? Alas! I read thine eye, and I 
 shall leave thee in peril." 
 
 "Greater peril in the councU of the Ephors and in the 
 babbling lips of the hoary Gerontes than amidst the 
 meeting of armaments. Thou wilt take this letter to the 
 Ephors. I have said in it but little; I have said that t 
 confide my cause to thee. Remember that thou insist on 
 the disgrace to me — ^the Heracleid, and through me to Spar- 
 ta, that my recall would occasion; remember that thou 
 prove that my alleged harshness is but necessary to the dis- 
 cipline that preserves armies, and to the ascendency of 
 Spartan rule. And as to the idle tale of Persian prisoners 
 escaped, why thou knowest how even the lonians could 
 make nothing of that charge. Crowd all sail, strain every 
 oar ; no ship in the fleet so swift as that which bears thee. 
 I care not for the few hours' start the tale-bearers have. 
 Our Spartan forms are slow ; they can scarce have an audi- 
 ence ere thou reach. The gods speed and guard thee, be- 
 loved friend. With thee goes all the future of Pausanias." 
 
 Lysander grasped his hand in a silence more eloquent 
 
 than words, and a tear fell on that hand which he clasped. 
 
 "Be not ashamed of it," he said then, as he turned away, 
 
 and, wrapping his cloak round his face, left the pavilion. 
 
 Alcman followed, lowered a boat from the side, and in a few 
 
 moments the Spartan and the Mothon were on the sea. 
 
 The boat made to a vessel close at hand — a vessel built in 
 
 Cyprus, manned by Bithynians ; its sails were all up, but it 
 
 bore no flag. Scarcely had Lysander climbed the deck when 
 
 it heaved to and fro, swaying as the anchor was drawn up, 
 18» 
 
210 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 then, righting itself, sprung forward, like a hound unleash- 
 ed for the chase. Pausanias, with folded arms, stood on the 
 deck of his own vessel, gazing after it, gazing long, till, 
 shooting far beyond the fleet, far toward the melting line 
 between sea and sky, it grew less and lesser; and as the 
 twilight dawned, it had faded into space. 
 
 The Heracleid turned to Alcman, who, after he had con- 
 veyed Lysander to the ship, had regained his master's side. 
 
 " "What thinkest thou, Alcman, will be the result of all 
 this?" 
 
 "The emancipation of the Helots," said the Mothon, 
 quietly. " The Athenians are too near thee ; the Persians 
 are too far. Wouldst thou have armies Sparta can neither 
 give nor take away from thee, bind to thee a race by the 
 strongest of human ties — make them see in thy power the 
 necessary condition of their freedom." 
 
 Pausanias made no answer. He turned within his pavil- 
 ion, and, flinging himself down on the same spot from 
 which he had disturbed Lysander, said, " Sleep here was so 
 kind to him that it may linger where he left it. I have 
 two hours yet for oblivion before the sun rise." 
 
PiiUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. '211 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 If we were enabled minutely to examine the mental or- 
 ganization of men who have risked great dangers, whether 
 by the impulse of virtue or in the perpetration of crime, 
 we should probably find therein a large preponderance of 
 hope. By that preponderance we should account for those 
 heroic designs which would annihilate prudence as a calcu- 
 lator, did not a sanguine confidence in the results produce 
 special energies to achieve them, and thus create a prudence 
 of its own, being, as it were, the self-conscious admeasure- 
 ment of the diviner, strength which justified the preterhu- 
 man spring. Nor less should we account by the same 
 cause for that audacity which startles us in criminals on a 
 colossal scale, which blinds them to the risks of detection', 
 and often at the bar of justice, whUe the evidences that 
 insure condemnation are thickening round them, with the 
 persuasion of acquittal or escape. Hope is thus alike the 
 sublime inspirer or the arch cornipter ; it is the foe of ter- 
 ror, the defier of consequences, the buoyant gamester which 
 at every loss doubles the stakes, with a firm hand rattles 
 the dice, and, invoking ruin, cries within itself, " How shall 
 I expend the gain V 
 
 In the character, therefore, of a man like Pausanias, risk- 
 ing so niuch glory, daring so much peril, strong indeed 
 
212 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 must have been this sanguine motive power of human ac- 
 tion. Nor is a large and active development of hope in- 
 compatible with a temperament habitually grave and often 
 profoundly melancholy. For hope itself is often engen- 
 dered by discontent. A vigorous nature keenly susceptible 
 to joy, and deprived of the possession of the joy it yearns 
 for by circumstances that surround it in the present, is 
 goaded on by its impatience and dissatisfaction ; it hopes 
 for the something it has not got, indifferent to the things 
 it possesses, and saddened by the want which it experi- 
 ences. And therefore it has been well said by philosophers 
 that real happiness would exclude desire ; in other words, 
 not only at the gates of hell, but at the porch of heaven, 
 he who entered would leave hope behind him. For perfect 
 bliss is but supreme content. And if content could say to 
 itself, " But I hope for something more," it would destroy 
 its own existence. 
 
 From his brief slumber the Spartan rose refreshed. 
 The trumpets were sounding near him, and the very sound 
 brightened his aspect, and animated his spirits. 
 
 Agreeably to orders he had given the night before, the 
 anchor was raised, the rowers were on their benches, the 
 libation to the Carnean Apollo, under whose special pro- 
 tection the ship was placed, had been poured forth, and 
 with the rising sea and to the blare of trumpets the gor- 
 geous trireme moved forth from the bay. 
 
 It moved, as the trumpets ceased, to the note of a sweet- 
 er, but not less exciting, music. For, according to Hellenic 
 custom, to the rowers was allotted a musician, with whose 
 
PAySANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 2}S 
 
 harmony their oars, when fii'st putting forth to sea, kept 
 time. And on this' occasion Alcman superseded the wont- 
 ed performer by his own more popular song and the melody 
 of his richer voice. Standing by the mainmast, and holding 
 the; lar^e; harp, which was stricken by the quill,. its strings 
 being deepened by a sounding-board, he chanted an lo 
 Psean to the Dorian god of light and poesy. The harp at 
 stated intervals was supported by a burst of flutes, and the 
 burden of the verse was caught up by the rowers as in 
 chorus. Thus, far and wide over the shining waves, went 
 forth the hymn. 
 
 lo. Id Paean ! slowly. Song and oar must chime together : 
 lo, lo Pseau ! by what title call Apollo? 
 Clariau? Xauthian? Boedromian? 
 Countless are tliy names, Apollo, 
 lo Carqee, lo Carnee ! 
 By the margent of Eurotaa, 
 'Neath the shadows of Taygetus, 
 Thee the sons of Lacedaemon 
 Name Carneus. lo, lo! 
 loCaruee! lo Carnee! 
 
 lo, lo Psean ! quicker. Song and voice must chime together: 
 lo Pseau ! lo Paean ! King Apollo, lo, lo ! 
 lo Carnee ! 
 
 For thine altars do the seasons 
 
 Paint the tributary flowers. 
 
 Spring thy hyaciuth restores, 
 
 Summer greets thee with the rose, 
 
 Autumn the blue Cyane mingles 
 
 With the coronals of corn, 
 
 And in every wreatli thy laurel 
 
 Weaves its everlasting green. 
 
214 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARtAlT, 
 
 loCarnee! lo Camee! 
 For the brows Apollo favors 
 Spring and winter does the laurel 
 Weave its everlasting green. 
 
 lo, lo Paean ! louder. Yoice and oar must chime together : 
 For the brows Apollo favors 
 Even Ocean bears the laurel. 
 lo Camee! lo Carnee! 
 
 lo, lo Fsean ! stronger. Strong are those who win the laurel. 
 
 As the ship of the Spartan commander thus bore out to 
 sea, the other vessels of the armament had been gradually 
 forming themselves into a crescent, preserving still the or- 
 der in which the allies maintained their several contributions 
 to the fleet, the Athenian ships at the extreme end occupying 
 the right wing, the Peloponnesians massed together at the left. 
 
 The Chian galleys adjoined the Samian ; for Uliades and 
 Antagoras had contrived that their ships should be close 
 to each other, so that they might take counsel at any mo- 
 ment and act in concert. 
 
 And now when the fleet had thus opened its arms, as it 
 were, to receive the commander, the great trireme of Pau- 
 sanias began to veer round, and to approach the half moon 
 of the expanded armament. On it came, with its beaked 
 prow, like a falcon swooping down on some array of the 
 lesser birds. 
 
 From the stern hung a gilded shield and a crimson 
 pennon. The heavy -armed soldiers in their Spartan mail 
 occupied the centre of the vessel, and the sun shone full 
 upon their armor. 
 
PAtrSANIAS, THE SPARTAN, 21& 
 
 " By Pallas the guardian," said Cimon, " it is the Athe- 
 nian vessels that the strategus honors with his first visit." 
 
 And indeed the Spartan galley now came along -side 
 that of Aristides, the admiral of the Athenian navy. 
 
 The soldiers on board the former gave way on eithet 
 side. And a murmur of admiration circled through the 
 Athenian ship, as Fausanias suddenly appeared. For, as if 
 bent that day on either awing mutiny or conciliating the 
 discontented, the Spartan chief had wisely laid aside the 
 wondrous Median robes. He stood on her stem in the 
 armor he had worn at Platsea, resting one hand upon his 
 shield, which itself rested on the deck. His head alone 
 was uncovered, his long sable locks gathered up into a knot, 
 in the Spartan fashion, a crest, as it were, in itself to that 
 lofty head. And so imposing were his whole air and car- 
 riage, that Gimon, gazing at him, muttered, " What profane 
 hand will dare to rob that demi-god of command!" 
 
216 PAUSANIA.S, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 Pausanias came on board the vessel of the Athenian 
 admiral, attended by the five Spartan chiefs who have been 
 mentioned before as the warlike companions assigned to 
 him. He relaxed the haughty demeanor which had given 
 so much displeasure, adopting a tone of marked courtesy. 
 He spoke with high and merited praise of the seaman-like 
 appearance of the Athenian crews, and the admirable buUd 
 and equipment of their vessels. 
 
 "Pity only," said he, smiling, "that we have no Per- 
 sians on the ocean now, and that instead of their visiting us 
 we must go in search of them." 
 
 " Would that be wise on our part ?" said Aristides. " Is 
 not Greece large enough for Greeks ?" 
 
 " Greece has not done growing," answered the Spartan ; 
 " and the gods forbid that she should do so. When man 
 ceases to grow in height he expands in bulk; when he 
 stops there too, the frame begins to stoop, the muscles to 
 shrink, the skin to shrivel, and decrepit old age steals on. 
 I have heard it said of the Athenians that they think noth- 
 ing done while aught remains to do. Is it not truly said, 
 worthy son of Miltiades ?" 
 
 Cimon bowed his head. " General, I can not disavow the 
 sentiment. But if Greece entered Asia, would it not be 
 as a river that runs into a sea ? it expands, and is merged." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 2l7 
 
 " The river, Cimon, may lose the sweetness of its wave, 
 and take the brine of the sea. But the Greek can never 
 lose the flavor of the Greek genius ; and could he penetrate 
 the universe, the universe would be Hellenized. But if, 
 Athenian chiefs, ye judge that we have now done all that 
 is needful to protect Athens, ard awe the Barbarian, ye 
 must be longing to retire from the armament and return 
 to your homes." 
 
 " When it is fit that we should return, we shall be re- 
 called," said Aristides, quietly. 
 
 " What, is your state so unerring in its judgment ? Expe- 
 rience does not permit me to think so, for it ostracized 
 Aristides." 
 
 "An honor," replied the Athenian, "that I did not de- 
 serve, but an action that, had I been the adviser of those 
 who sent me forth, I should have opposed as too lenient. 
 Instead of ostracizing me, they should have cast both my- 
 self and Themistocles into the Barathrum." 
 
 "You speak with true Attic honor, and I comprehend 
 that where, in commonwealths constituted like yours, party 
 runs high, and the state itself is shaken, ostracism may be a 
 necessary tribute to the very virtues that attract the zeal of 
 a party and imperil the equality ye so prize. But what 
 can compensate to a state for the evil of depriving itself of 
 its greatest citizens 3" 
 
 "Peace and freedom," said Aristides. "If you would 
 
 have the young trees thrive, you must not let one tree be 
 
 so large as to overshadow them. Ah, General, at Plataea," 
 
 added the Athenian, in a benignant whisper, for the grand 
 
 19 10 
 
218 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 image before him moved his heart with a mingled feeling 
 of generous admiration and prophetic pity — "ah, pardon 
 me if I remind thee of the ring of Polycrates, and say that 
 Fortune is a queen that requires tribute, Man should 
 tremble most when most seemingly fortune -favored, and 
 guard most against a fall when his rise is at the highest." 
 
 " But it is only at its highest flight that the eagle is safe 
 from the arrow," answered Pausanias. 
 
 "And the nest the eagle has forgotten in her soaring 
 is the more exposed to the spoUer." 
 
 " Well, my nest is in rocky Sparta ; hardy the spoiler who 
 ventures thither. Yet, to descend from these speculative 
 comparisons, it seems that thou hast a friendly and mean- 
 ing purpose in thy warnings. Thou knowest that there 
 are in this armament men who grudge to. me whatever I 
 now owe to Fortune; who would topple me from the 
 height to which I did not climb, but was led by the con- 
 gregated Greeks ; and who, while, perhaps, they are forging 
 arrow-heads for the eagle, have sent to place poison and a 
 snare in its distant nest. So the Nausicaa is on its voyage 
 to Sparta, conveying to the Ephors complaints against me 
 — complaints from men who fought by my side against the 
 Mede !" 
 
 " I have heard that a Cyprian vessel left the fleet yester- 
 day, bound to Laconia. -I have heard that it does bear 
 men charged by some of the lonians with representations 
 unfavorable to the continuance of thy command. It bears 
 none from me as the Nauarchus of the Athenians. But — " 
 
 "But-what3" 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 219 
 
 " But I have complained to thyself, Pausanias, in vain^" 
 
 " Hast thou complained of late, and in vain ?" 
 
 "Nay." 
 
 " Honest men may err. If they amend, do just men 
 continue to accuse ?" 
 
 "I do not accuse, Pausanias; I but imply that those 
 who do may have' a cause ; but it will be heard before a 
 tribunal of thine own countrymen, and doubtless thou hast 
 sent to the tribunal those who may meet the charge on thy 
 behalf." 
 
 " Well," said Pausanias, still preserving his studied urban- 
 ity and lofty smile, " even Agamemnon and Achilles quar- 
 reled; but Greece took Troy not the less. And, at least, 
 since Aristides does not denounce me, if I have committed 
 even worse faults than Agamemnon, I have not made an 
 enemy of Achilles. And if," he added, after a pause, " if 
 some of these lonians, not waiting for the return of their 
 envoys, openly mutiny, they must be treated as Thersites 
 was." Then he hurried on quickly, for, observing that Ci- 
 mon's brow lowered and his lips quivered, he desired to 
 cut off all words that might lead to altercation. 
 
 " But I have a request to ask of the Athenian Nau- 
 archus. Will you gratify myself and the fleet by putting 
 your Athenian triremes into play? Your seamen are so 
 famous for their manoeuvres that they might furnish us 
 with sports of more grace and agility than do the Lydian 
 dancers. Landsman though I be, no sight more glads mine 
 eye than these searlions of pine and brass, bounding under 
 the yoke of their tamers. I presume not to give thee in- 
 
220 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 structions what to perform. Who can dictate to the sea- 
 men of Salamis? But when your ships have played out 
 their martial sport, let them exchange stations with the 
 Peloponnesian vessels, and occupy for the present the left 
 of the armament. Ye object not ?" 
 
 " Place us where thou wilt, as was said to thee at Pla- 
 taea," answered Aristides. 
 
 "I now leave ye to prepare, Athenians, and greet ye, 
 saying, The Good to the Beautiful." 
 
 "A wondrous presence for a Greek commander!" said 
 Cimon, as Pausanias again stood on the stem of his own 
 vessel, which moved off toward the ships of the Islands. 
 
 "And no mean capacity," returned Aristides. "See you 
 not his object in transplacing us ?" 
 
 "Ha, truly; in case of mutiny on board the Ionian 
 ships, he Separates them from Athens. But woe to him if 
 he thinks in his heart that an Ionian is a Thersites, to be 
 silenced by the blow of a sceptre. Meanwhile let the 
 Greeks see what manner of seamen are the Athenians. Me- 
 thinks this game ordained to us is a contest before Neptune, 
 and for a crown." 
 
 Pausanias bore right on toward the vessels from the 
 ^gean Isles. Their masts and prows were heavy with 
 garlands, but no music sounded from their decks, no wel- 
 coming shout from their crews. 
 
 " Son of Cleombrotus," said the prudent Erasinidas, 
 " sullen dogs bite. Unwise the stranger who trusts himself 
 to their kennel. Pass not to those triremes ; let the cap- 
 tains, if thou wantest them, come to thee." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 221 
 
 Pausanias replied, " Dogs fear the steady eye and spring 
 at the recreant back Helmsman, steer to yonder ship with 
 the olive-tree on the parasemon, and the image of Bacchus 
 on the guardian standard. It is the ship of Antagoras, the 
 Chian captain." 
 
 Pausanias turned to his warlike Five. " This time, for- 
 give me, I go alone." And before their natural Spartan 
 slowness enabled them to combat this resolution, their lead- 
 er was by the side of his rival, alone in the Chian vessel, 
 and surrounded by his sworn foes. 
 
 " Antagoras," said the Spartan, " a Chian seaman's ship 
 is his dearest home. I stand on thy deck as at thy hearth, 
 and ask thy hospitality ; a crust of thy honeyed bread, and 
 a cup of thy Chian wine. For from thy ship I would see 
 the Athenian vessels go through their nautical gymnastics." 
 
 The Chian turned pale and trembled; his vengeance was 
 braved and foiled. He was powerless against the man who 
 trusted to his honor, and asked to break of his bread and 
 "e^of his cup. Pausanias did not appear to heed the em- 
 barrassment of his unwilling host, but, turning round, ad- 
 dressed some careless words to the soldiers on the raised 
 central platform, and then quietly seated himself, directing 
 his eyes toward the Athenian ships. Upon these all the 
 sails were now lowered. In nice manoeuvres the seamen 
 preferred trusting to their oars. Presently one vessel start- 
 ed forth, and with a swiftness that seemed to increase at 
 every stroke. 
 
 A table was brought upon deck and placed before Pau- 
 sanias, and the slaves began to serve to him such light food 
 
 19* 
 
222 PAUSANIAS, THB SPARTAN. 
 
 as sufficed to furnish the customary meal of the Greeks in 
 the earlier forenoon. 
 
 " But where is mine host ?" asked the Spartan. " Does 
 Antagoras himself not deign to share a meal with his guest ?" 
 
 On receiving the message, Antagoras had no option but 
 to come forward. The Spartan eyed him deliberately, 
 and the young Chian felt with secret rage the magic of that 
 commanding eye. 
 
 Pausanias motioned to him to be seated, making room 
 beside himself. The Chian silently obeyed. 
 
 " Antagoras," said the Spartan, in a low voice, " thou art 
 doubtless one of those who have already infringed the laws 
 of military discipline and obedience. Interrupt me not yet. 
 A vessel, without waiting my permission, has left the fleet 
 with accusations against me, thy commander; of what 
 nature I am not even advised. Thou wilt scarcely deny 
 that thou art one of those who sent forth the ship and 
 shared in the accusations. Yet I had thought that if I 
 had ever merited thine ill-wiU, there had been reconciliation 
 between us in the council-hall. What has chanced since ? 
 Why shouldst thou hate me ? Speak frankly ; frankly have 
 I spoken to thee." 
 
 "General," replied Antagoras, "there is no hegemony 
 over men's hearts; thou sayest truly, as man to man, I 
 hate thee. Wherefore? Because, as man to man, thou 
 standest between me and happiness. Because thou wooest, 
 and canst only woo to dishonor, the virgin in whom I would 
 seek the sacred wife." 
 
 Pausanias slightly recoiled, and the courtesy he had sim- 
 
FAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 223 
 
 ulated, and whicli was essentially foreign to his vehement 
 and haughty character, fell from him like a mask. For 
 with the words of Antagor'as, jealousy passed within him, 
 and for the moment its agony was such that the Chian was 
 avenged. But he was too habituated to the stateliness of 
 self-control to give vent to the rage that seized him. He 
 only said, with a whitened and writhing lip, "Thou art 
 right ; all animosities may yield, save those which a wom- 
 an's eye can kindle. Thou hatest me — be it so — that is as 
 man to man. But as officer to chieftain, I bid thee hence- 
 forth beware how thou givest me cause to set this foot on 
 the head that lifts itself to the height of mine." 
 
 With that he rose, turned on his heel, and walked toward 
 the stern, where he stood apart, gazing on the Athenian 
 triremes, which by this time were in the broad sea. And 
 all the eyes in the fleet were turned toward that exhibition. 
 For marvelous were the ease and beauty with which these 
 ships went through their najtical movements : now as in 
 chase of each other ; now approaching as in conflict, veering 
 off, darting aside, threading, as it were, a harmonious maze, 
 gliding in and out, here, there, with the undulous celerity 
 of the serpent. The admirable build of the ships ; the per- 
 fect skill of the seamen ; the noiseless docility and instinc- 
 tive comprehension by which they seemed to seize and to 
 obey the unforeseen signals of their Admiral — all struck the 
 lively Greeks that beheld the display, and universal was the 
 thought, if not the murmur. There was the power that 
 should command the Grecian seas. 
 
 Pausanias was too much accustomed to the sway of 
 
224 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 masses not to have acquired tliat electric knowledge of what 
 circles among them from breast to breast, to which habit 
 gives the quickness of an instinct. He saw that he had 
 committed an imprudence, and that in seeking to divert a 
 mutiny he had incurred a yet greater peril. 
 
 He returned to his own ship without exchan^ng another 
 word with Antagoras, who had retired to the centre of the 
 vessel, fearing to trust himself to a premature utterance of 
 that defiance which the last warning of his chief provoked, 
 and who was therefore arousing the soldiers to louder 
 shouts of admiration at the Athenian skill. 
 
 Rowing back toward the wing occupied by the Pelopon- 
 nesian allies, of whose loyalty he was assured, Fausanias 
 then summoned on board their principal oflBcer, and com- 
 municated to him his policy of placing the lonians not 
 only apart from the Athenians, but under the vigilance and 
 control of Peloponnesian vessels in the immediate neigh- 
 borhood. " Therefore," said he, " while the Athenians will 
 occupy this wing, I wish you to divide yourselves ; the 
 Lacedaemonian ships will take the way the Athenians aban- 
 don, but the Corinthian triremes will place themselves be- 
 tween the ships of the Islands and the Athenians. I shall 
 give further orders toward distributing the Ionian navy. 
 And thus I trust either all chance of a mutiny is cut off, 
 or it will be put down at the first outbreak. Now, give 
 orders to your men to take the places thus assigned to 
 you. And having gratified the vanity of our friends, the 
 Athenians, by their holiday evolutions, I shall send to thank 
 and release them from the fatigue so gracefully borne." 
 
FAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 225 
 
 All those with whom he here conferred, and who had no 
 love for Athens or Ionia, readily fell into the plan suggest- 
 ed. Pausanias then dispatched a Laconian vessel to the 
 Athenian Admiral, with complimentary messages and orders 
 to cease the manoeuvres, and then, heading the rest of the 
 Laconian contingent, made slow and stately way toward the 
 station deserted by the Athenians. But, pausing once more 
 before the vessels of the Isles, he dispatched orders to their 
 several commanders, which had the effect of dividing their 
 array, and placing between them the powerful Corinthian 
 service. In the orders of the vessels he forwarded for this 
 change, he took especial care to dislocate the dangerous con- 
 tiguity of the Samian and Chian triremes. 
 
 The sun was declining toward the west when Pausanias 
 had marshaled the vessels he headed, at their new stations, 
 and the Athenian ships were already anchored close and 
 secured. But there was an evident commotion in that part 
 of the fleet to which the Corinthian galleys had sailed. The 
 lonians had received with indignant murmurs the command 
 which divided their strength. Under various pretexts each 
 vessel delayed to move; and when the Corinthian ships 
 came to take a vacant space, they found a formidable array 
 — the soldiers on the platforms armed to the teeth. The 
 confusion was visible to the Spartan chief; the loud hub- 
 bub almost reached to his ears. He hastened toward the 
 place ; but anxious to continue the gracious part he had so 
 unwontedly played that day, he cleared his decks of their 
 formidable hoplites, lest he might seem to meet menace by 
 menace, and, drafting them into other vessels, and accom- 
 
 10* f 
 
226 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 panied only by Ms personal serving-men and roWers, hri put 
 forth alone, the gilded shield and the red banner still dis- 
 played at his stem. 
 
 But as he was thus conspicuous and solitary, and mid- 
 way in the space left between the Laconian and Ionian gal- 
 leys, suddenly two ships from the latter darted forth, passed 
 through the centre of the Corinthian contingent, and steer- 
 ed, with the force of all their rowers, right toward the Spar- 
 tan's ship. 
 
 " Surely," said Pausanias, " that is the Chian's vessel. I 
 recognize the vine-tree and the image of the Bromian god ; 
 and surely that other one is the Chimera under Uliades, the 
 Samian. They come hither, the Ionian with them, to ha- 
 rangue against obedience to my orders." 
 
 " They come hither to assault us," exclaimed Erasinidas ; 
 " their beaks are right upon us." 
 
 He had scarcely spoken, when the Chian's brass prow 
 smote the gilded shield, and rent the red banner from its 
 staff. At the same time the Chimera, under Uliades, struck 
 the right side of the Spartan ship, and with both strokes 
 the stout vessel reeled and dived. " Know, Spartan," cried 
 Antagoras, from the platform in the midst of his soldiers, 
 " that we lonians hold together. He who would separate 
 means to conquer us. We disown thy hegemony. If ye 
 would seek us, we are with the Athenians." 
 
 With that the two vessels, having performed their inso- 
 lent and daring feat, veered and shot off with the same ra- 
 pidity with which they had come to the assault; and, as 
 they did so, hoisted the Athenian ensign over their own 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 227 
 
 national standards. The instant that signal was given, from 
 the other Ionian vessels, which had heen evidently awaiting 
 it, there came a simultaneous shout ; and all, vacating theii 
 place and either gliding through or wheeling round the Co- 
 rinthian galleys, steered toward the Athenian fleet. 
 
 The trireme of Pausanias, meanwhile, sorely damaged, 
 part of its side rent away, and the water rushing in, swayed 
 and struggled alone in great peril of sinking. 
 
 Instead of pursuing the lonians, the Corinthian galleys 
 made at once to th& aid of the insulted commander. 
 
 " Oh," cried Pausanias, in powerless wrath, " oh, the ac- 
 cursed element ! Oh that mine enemies had attacked me on 
 the land !" 
 
 " How are we to act 1" said Aristides. 
 
 "We are citizens of a Republic m which the majority 
 govern," answered Cimon. " And the majority here tell us 
 how we are to act. Hark to the shouts of our men, as they 
 are opening way for their kinsmen of the Isles." 
 
 The sun sunk, and with it sunk the Spartan maritime as- 
 cendency over Hellas. And from that hour in which the 
 Samian and the Chian insulted the galley of Pausanias, if 
 we accord weight to the authority on which Plutarch must 
 have based his tale, commenced the brief and glorious sov- 
 ereignty of Athens. Commence when and how it might, it 
 was an epoch most signal in the records of the ancient 
 world for its results upon a civilization to which as yet 
 human foresight can predict no end. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 20 
 
FAV8ANIAS, THE BFABTAIT. 231 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Wk pass from Byzantium ; we are in Sparta. In the Ar- 
 cheion, or oflSce of the Ephoralty, sat five men, all some- 
 what advanced in years. These constituted that stem and 
 terrible authority which had gradually, and from unknown 
 beginnings,* assumed a kind of tyranny over the descend- 
 ants of Hercules themselves. They were the representatives 
 of the Spartan people, elected without reference to rank 
 or wealth,! and possessing jurisdiction not only over the 
 Helots and Laconians, but over most of the magistrates. 
 They could suspend or terminate any ofQce; they could 
 accuse the kings, and bring them before a court in which 
 they themselves were judges upon trial of life and death. 
 They exercised control over the armies atid the embassies 
 sent abroad ; and the king, at the head of his forces, was 
 still bound to receive his instructions from this Council of 
 
 * K. O. Miiller ("Dorians"), book 3, oh. 7, J 2. According to 
 Aristotle, Cicero, and others, the Ephoralty was founded by 
 Theopompus subsequently to the mytbical time of Lycurgus. 
 To Lycurgus himself it -is referred by Xenophon and Herod- 
 otus. MuUer considers rightly that, though an ancient Doric 
 institution, it was incompatible with the primitive constitution 
 of Lycurgus, and had gradually acquired its peculiar character 
 by causes operating on the Spartan State alone. 
 
 t Aristot., Pol. ii. 
 
232 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 Five. Their duty, in fact, was to act as a check upon the 
 kings, and they were the representatives of that nobility 
 which embraced the whole Spartan people, in contradistinc- 
 tion to the Laconians and Helots. 
 
 The conference in which they engaged seemed to rivet 
 their most earnest attention. And as the presiding Ephor 
 continued the observations he addressed to them, the rest- 
 listened with profound and almost breathless silence. 
 
 The speaker, named Periclides, was older than the others. 
 His frame, still upright and sinewy, was yet lean almost to 
 emaciation, his face sharp, and his dark eyes gleamed with 
 a cunning and sinister light underhis gray brows. 
 
 " If," said he, " we are to believe these lonians, Fausanias 
 meditates some deadly injury to Greece. As for the com- 
 plaints of his arrogance, they are to be received with due 
 caution. Our Spartans, accustomed to the peculiar disci- 
 pline of the Laws of .lElgimias, rarely suit the humors of 
 lonians and innovators. The question to consider is not 
 whether he has been too imperious toward lonians who 
 were but the other day subjected to the Mede, but whether 
 he can make the command he received from Sparta mena- 
 cing to Sparta herself. We lend him iron, he hath holpen 
 himself to gold." 
 
 "Besides the booty at Flat^ea, they say that he has 
 amassed much plunder at Byzantium," said Zeuxidamus, 
 one of the Ephors, after a pause. 
 
 Periclides looked hard at the speaker, and the two men 
 exchanged a significant glance. 
 
 " For my part," said a third, a man of a severe but noble 
 
PArSANIAS, THK SPARTAN. 233 
 
 countenance, the father of Lysander, and, what was not 
 usual with the Ephors, belonging to one of the highest 
 families of Sparta, " I have always held that Sparta should 
 limit its policy to self-defense ; that, since the Persian in- 
 vasion is over, we have no business with Byzantium. Let 
 the busy Athenians obtain, if they will, the empire of the 
 sea. The sea is no province of ours. All intercourse with 
 foreigners, Asiatics and lonians, enervates our men and 
 corrupts our generals. Recall PausaniaS' — recall our Spar- 
 tans. I have said." 
 
 "Recall Pausanias first," said Periclides, "and we shall 
 then hear the truth, and decide what is best to be done." 
 
 " If he has Medized, if he has conspired against Greece, 
 let us accuse him to the death," said Agesilaus, Lyeander's 
 father. 
 
 " We may accuse, but it rests not with us to sentence," 
 said Periclides, disapprovingly. 
 
 " And," said a fourth Ephor, with a visible shudder, " what 
 Spartan dare counsel sentence of death to the descendant of 
 the gods?" 
 
 " I dare," replied Agesilaus, " but provided only that the 
 descendant of the gods had counseled death to Greece. 
 And for that reason, I say that I would not, without evi- 
 dence the clearest, even harbor the thought that a Hera- 
 cleid could meditate treason to his country." 
 
 PericUdes felt the reproof, and bit his lips. 
 
 " Besides," observed Zeuxidamus, " fines enrich the state." 
 
 Periclides nodded approvingly. 
 
 An expression of lofty contempt passed over the brqw 
 
 20* 
 
234 PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAN. 
 
 and lip of Agesilaus. But with national self-command, he 
 replied gravely, and with equal laconic brevity, " If Pausa- 
 nias hath committed a trivial error that a fine can expiate, 
 so be it. But talk not of fines till ye acquit him of all 
 treasonable connivance with the Mede." 
 
 At that moment an officer entered on the conclave, and, 
 approaching the presiding Ephor, whispered in his ear. 
 
 " This is well," exclaioted Periclides, aloud. " A messen- 
 ger from Fausanias himself. Your son Lysander has just 
 arrived from Byzantium." 
 
 " My son !" exclaimed Agesilaus, eagerly, and then, check- 
 ing himself, added calmly, " That is a sign no danger to 
 Sparta threatened Byzantium when he left." 
 
 " Let him be admitted," said Periclides. 
 
 Lysander entered ; and, pausing at a little distance from 
 the council-board, inclined his head submissively to the 
 Ephors: save a rapid interchange of glances, no separate 
 greeting took place between son and father. 
 
 " Thou art welcome," said Periclides. " Thou hast done 
 thy duty since thou hast left the city. Virgins will praise 
 thee as the brave man ; age, more sober, is contented to say 
 thou hast upheld the Spartan name. And thy father with- 
 out shame may take thy hand." 
 
 A warm flush spread over the young man's face. He 
 stepped forward with a quick step, his eyes beaming with 
 joy. Calm and stately, his father rose, clasped the extend- 
 ed hand, then, releasing his own, placed it an instant on his 
 son's bended head, and reseated himself in silence. 
 
 " Thou camest straight from Pausanias ?" said Periclides. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 233 
 
 Lysander drew from his vest the dispatch intrusted to 
 him, and gave it to the presiding Ephor. Periclides half 
 rose, as if to take with more respect what had come from 
 the hand of the son of Hercules. 
 
 " Withdraw, Lysander," he said, " and wait without while 
 we deliberate on the contents herein." 
 
 Lysander obeyed, and returned to the outer chamber. 
 
 Here he was instantly surrounded by eager, though not 
 noisy, groups. Some in that chamber were waiting on bus- 
 iness connected with the civil jurisdiction of the Ephors. 
 Some had gained admittance for the purpose of greeting 
 their brave countryman, and hearing news of the distant 
 camp from one who had so lately quit the great Pausani- 
 as. For men could talk without restraint of their General, 
 though it was but with reserve and indirectly that they slid 
 in some furtive question as to the health and safety -of a 
 brother or a son. 
 
 " My heart warms to be among ye again," said the sim- 
 ple Spartan youth. "As I came through the defiles from 
 the sea-coast, and saw on the height the gleam from the old 
 Temple of Pallas Chalcioecus, I said to myself, ' Blessed be 
 the gods that ordained me to live with Spartans or die with 
 .Sparta!'" 
 
 " Thou wilt see how much we shall make of thee, Ly- 
 sander," cried a Spartan youth a little younger than him- 
 self, one of the superior tribe of the Hylleans. " We have 
 heard of thee at Platsea. It is said that had Pausanias not 
 been there thou wouldst have been called the bravest Greek 
 in the armament." 
 
236 PATJSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 " HusL !" said Lysander, " thy few years excuse thee, 
 young friend. Save our General, we were all equals in the 
 day of battle." 
 
 " So thinks not my sister Percalus," whispered the youth, 
 archly ; " scold her as thou dost me, if thou dare." 
 
 Lysander colored, and replied in a voice that slightly 
 trembled, " I can not hope that thy sister interests herself 
 in me. Nay, when I left Sparta, I thought — " He checked 
 himself. 
 
 "Thought what?" 
 
 " That among those who remained behind Percalus might 
 find her betrothed long before I returned." 
 
 " Among those who remained behind ! Percalus ! How 
 meanly thou must think of her !" 
 
 Before Lysander could utter the eager assurance that he 
 was very far from thinking meanly of Percalus, the other 
 by-standers, impatient at this whispered colloquy, seized his 
 attention with a volley of questions, to which he gave but 
 curt and not very relevant answers, so much had the lad's 
 few sentences disturbed the calm tenor of his existing self- 
 possession. Nor did he quite regain his presence of mind 
 until he was once more summoned into the presence of the 
 Ephors. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 237 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The commanication of Pausanias had caused an animated 
 discussion in the Council, and led to a strong division of 
 opinion. But the faces of the Ephors, rigid and composed,' 
 revealed nothing to guide the sagacity of Lysander as he re- 
 entered the chamber. He himself, by a strong effort, had 
 recovered from the disturbance into which the words of the 
 boy had thrown his mind, and he stood before the Ephors 
 intent upon the object of defending the name and fulfilling 
 the commands of his chief. So reverent and grateful was 
 the love that he bore to Pausanias that he scarcely permit- 
 ted himself even to blame the deviations from Spartan 
 austerity which he secretly mourned in his mind ; and as to 
 the grave guilt of treason to the Hellenic cause, he had 
 never suffered the suspicion of it to rest upon an intellect 
 that only failed to be penetrating where its sight was limit- 
 ed by discipline and affection. He felt that Pausanias had 
 intrusted to him his defense ; and though he would fain, 
 in his secret heart, have beheld the Regent once more in 
 Sparta, yet he well knew that -it was the duty of obedience 
 and friendship to plead against the sentence of recall which 
 was so dreaded by his chief. 
 
 With all his thoughts collected toward thajt end, he stood 
 before the Ephors, modest in demeanor, vigilant in purpose. 
 
238 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 "Lysander," said Periclides, after a short pause, "we 
 know thy affection to the Kegent, thy chosen friend ; but 
 we know, also, thy affection for thy native Sparta: where 
 the two may come into conflict, it is, and it must be, thy 
 country which will claim the preference. We charge thee, 
 by virtue of our high powers and authority, to speak the 
 truth on the questions we shall address to thee, without fear 
 or favor." 
 
 Lysander bowed his head. " I am in presence of Sparta 
 my mother, and Agesilaus my father. They know that I 
 was not reared to lie to either." 
 
 " Thou say'st well. Now answer. Is it true that Pau- 
 sanias wears the robes of the Mede ?" 
 
 " It is true." 
 
 " And has he stated to thee his reasons ?" 
 
 " Not only to me, but to others." 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 " That, in the mixed and half-Medized population of By- 
 zantium, splendor of attire has become so associated with 
 the notion of sovereign power that the Eastern dress and 
 attributes of pomp are essential to authority ; and that men 
 bow before his tiara who might rebel against the helm and 
 the horse-hair. Outward signs have a value, O Ephors, accord- 
 ing to the notions men are brought up to attach to them." 
 
 " Good," said one of the Ephors. " There is in this de- 
 parture from our habits, be it right or wrong, no sign, 
 then, of connivance with the Barbarian." 
 
 " Connivance is a thing secret and conc^ealed, and shuns 
 flll outward signs." 
 
PAUSANIAB, THE SPARTAN. 239 
 
 " But,'' said Periclides, " what say the other Spartan 
 captains to this vain fashion, -which savors not of the laws 
 of -iEgimiusI" 
 
 " The first law of ^gimius commands us to fight and 
 to die for the king or the chief who has kingly sway. 
 The Ephors may blame, but the soldier must not ques- 
 tion." 
 
 " Thou speakest boldly for so young a man," said Peri- 
 chdes, harshly. 
 
 " I was commanded to speak the truth." 
 
 "Has Pausanias intrusted the command of Byzantium 
 to Gongylus the Eretrian, who already holds four provinces 
 under Xerxes ?" 
 
 " He has done so." 
 
 " Know you the reason for that selection ?" 
 
 "Pausanias says that the Eretrian could not more show 
 his faith to Hellas than by resigning Eastern satrapies so 
 vast." 
 
 " Has he resigned them ?" 
 
 "I know not; but I presume that when the Persian, 
 king knows that the Eretrian is leagued against him with 
 the other captains of Hellas, he will assign the satrapies to 
 another." 
 
 "And is it true that the Persian prisoners, Ariamanes 
 and Datis, have escaped from the custody of Gongylus ?" 
 
 " It is true. The charge against Gongylus for that error 
 was heard in a council of confederate captains, and no proof 
 against him was brought forward. Cimon was intrusted 
 with the pursuit of the prisoners. Pausanias himself sent 
 
240 PAUSAlfrAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 forth fifty scouts on Thessalian horses. The ptlsouers 
 were not discovered." 
 
 " Is it true," said Zeuxidamus, " that Pausanias has 
 amassed much plunder at Byzantium ?" 
 
 " "What he has won as a conqueror was assigned to him 
 by common voice; but he has spent largely out of his 
 own resources in securing the Greek sway at Byzantium." 
 
 There was a silence. None liked to question the young 
 soldier further; none Uked to put the direct question, 
 whether or not the Ionian embassador could have cause for 
 suspecting the descendant of Hercules of harm against the 
 Greeks. At length Agesilaus said : 
 
 " I demand the word, and I claim the right to speak 
 plainly. My son is young, but he is of the blood of Hyllus. 
 
 " Son, Pausanias is dear to thee. Man soon dies : man's 
 name lives forever. Dear to thee if Pausanias is, dearer 
 must be his name. In brief, the Ionian embassadors com- 
 plain of his arrogance toward the confederates; they de- 
 mand his recall. Cimon has addressed a private letter to 
 the Spartan host, with whom he lodged here, intimating 
 that it may be the best for the honor of Pausanias, -and for 
 our weight with the allies, to hearken to the Ionian em- 
 bassy. It is a grave question, therefore, whether we should 
 recall the Kegent or refuse to hear these charges. Thou 
 art fresh from Byzantium ; thou must know more of this 
 matter than we. Loose thy tongue, put aside equivocation. 
 Say thy mind ; it is for us to decide afterward what is our 
 duty to the state." 
 
 " I thank thee, my father," said Lysander, coloring deeply 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 241 
 
 at a compliment paid rarely to one so young, "and thus 
 I answer thee : 
 
 " Fausanias, in seeting to enforce discipline and preserve 
 the Spartan supremacy, was at first somewhat harsh and 
 severe to these lonians, who had indeed but lately emanci- 
 pated themselves from the Persian yoke, and who were lit- 
 tle accustomed to steady rule. But of late he has been 
 aSable and courteous, and no complaint was urged against 
 him for austerity at the time when this embassy was sent to 
 you. Wherefore was it then sent ? Partly, it may be, from 
 motives of private hate, not public zeal, but partly because 
 the Ionian race sees with reluctance and jealousy the he- 
 gemony of Sparta. I would speak plainly. It is not for 
 me to say whether ye will or not that Sparta should retain 
 the maritLme supremacy of Hellas ; but if ye do will it, ye 
 will not recall Pausanias. No other than the Conqueror of 
 Plateea has a chance of maintaining that authority. Eager 
 would the lonians be upon any pretext, false or frivolous, to 
 rid themselves of Pausanias. Artfully willing would be the 
 Athenians in especial that ye listened to such pretexts ; for 
 Pausanias gone, Athens remains and rules. On what be- 
 longs to the policy of the state it becomes not me to proflEer 
 a word, Ephors. In what I have said I speak what the 
 whole armament thinks and murmurs. But this I may say 
 as soldier to whom the honor of his chief is dear : The re- 
 call of Pausanias may or may not be wise as a public act, 
 but it will be regarded throughout all Hellas as a personal 
 affront to your General ; it will lower the royalty of Sparta, 
 it will be an insult to the blood of Hercules. Forgive me, 
 
 21 11 Q 
 
242 
 
 PACSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 O venerable magistrates. I have fought by the side of 
 Pausanias, and I can not dare to think that the great Con- 
 queror of Platsea, the man who saved Hellas from the 
 Mede, the roan who raised Sparta on that day to a renown 
 which penetrated the farthest comers of the East, will re- 
 ceive from you other return than fame and glory. And 
 fame and glory will surely make that proud spirit doubly 
 Spartan." 
 
 Lysander paused, breathing hard and coloring deeply — 
 annoyed with himself for a speech of which both the length 
 and the audacity were much more Ionian than Spartan. 
 
 The Ephors looked at each other, and there was again si- 
 lence. 
 
 "Son of Agesilaus," said Periclides, "thou hast -proved 
 thy Lacedaemonian virtues too well, and too high and gener- 
 al is thy repute among our army, as it is borne to our ears, 
 for us to doubt thy purity and patriotism ; otherwise, we 
 might fear that while thou speakest in some contempt of 
 Ionian wolves, thou hadst learned the arts of Ionian Agoras. 
 But enough : thou art dismissed. Go to thy home ; glad 
 the eyes of thy mother ; enjoy the honors thou wilt find 
 awaiting thee among thy "coevals. Thou wilt learn later 
 whether thou return to Byzantium, or whether a better 
 field for thy valor may not be found in the nearer war 
 with which Arcadia threatens us." 
 
 As soon as Lysander left the chamber, Agesilaus spoke : 
 
 " Ye will pardon me, Ephors, if I bid my son speak thus 
 boldly. I need not say I am no vain, foolish father, desir- 
 ing to raise the youth above his years. But, making allow- 
 
PAUSANIAS,' THE SPARTAN. 243 
 
 ance for his partiality to the Eegent, ye will grant tLat he 
 is a fair specimen of our young soldiery. Probably, as he 
 speaks, so will our young men think. To recall Pausanias 
 is to disgrace our General. Ye have my mind. If the 
 Eegent be guilty of the darker charges insinuated — corre- 
 spondence witTi the Persian against Greece — I know but 
 one sentence fcr him — Death. And it is because I would 
 have ye consider well how dread is such a charge, and how 
 awful such a sentence, that I entreat ye not lightly to en- 
 tertain the one unless ye are prepared to meditate the other. 
 As for the maritime supremacy of Sparta, I hold, as I have 
 held before, that it is not within our councils to strive for 
 it : it must pass from us. We may surrender it later with 
 dignity. If we recall our General on such complaints, we 
 lose it with humiliation." 
 
 " I agree with Agesilaus," said another. " Pausanias is a 
 Heracleid ; my vote shall not insult him;" 
 
 " I agree, too, with Agesilaus," said a third Ephor ; " not 
 because Pausanias is the Heracleid, but because he is the 
 victorious General who demands gratitude and respect from 
 every true Spartan." 
 
 " Be it so," said Periclides, who, seeing himself thus out- 
 voted in the council, covered his disapp6intment with the 
 self-control habitual to his race. " But be we in no hurry 
 to give these Ionian legates their answer to-day. We must 
 deliberate well how to send such a reply as may be most 
 conciliating and prudent. And for the next few days we 
 have ai excuse for delay in the religious ceremonials due to 
 the venerable Divinity of Fear, which commence to-morrow. 
 
244 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAKTAN, 
 
 Pass we to the otter business before us; there are many 
 whom we have kept waiting. AgesUaus, thou art excused 
 from the public table to-day, if thou wouldst sup with thy 
 brave son at home." 
 
 " Nay," said Agesilaus, " my son wUl go to his pheidition 
 and I to mine — as I did on the day when I lost my first- 
 bom." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAy. 245 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 On quitting the Hall of the Ephors, Lysander found 
 himself at once on the 'Spartan Agora, wherein that hall 
 was placed. This was situated on the highest of the five 
 hills, over which the unwalled city spread its scattered pop- 
 ulation, and was popularly called the Tower. Before the 
 eyes of the young Spartan rose the statues, rude and an- 
 tique, of -Latona, the Pythian Apollo, and his sister Artemis 
 — venerable images to Lysander's early associations. The 
 place which they consecrated was called Chorus ; for there, 
 in honor of Apollo, and in the most pompous of all the 
 Spartan festivals, the young men were accustomed to lead 
 the sacred dance. The Temple of Apollo himself stood a 
 little in the background, and near to it that of Hera. But 
 more vast than any image of a god was a colossal statue 
 which represented the Spartan people ; while on a still loft- 
 ier pinnacle of the hUl than that table-land which inclosed 
 the Agora — dominating, as it were, the whole city — soared 
 into the bright-blue sky the sacred Chalcioecus, or Temple 
 of the Brazen Pallas, darkening with its shadow another 
 fane toward the left dedicated to the Lacedaemonian Muses, 
 and receiving a gleam on the right from the brazen statue 
 of Zeus, which was said by tradition to have been made by 
 a disciple of Dsedalus himself. 
 
 But short time had Lysander to note undisturbed the old 
 21* 
 
246 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 familiar scenes. A crowd of his early friends had already 
 collected round the doors of the Archeion, and rushed for- 
 ward to greet and welcome him. The Spartan coldness 
 and austerity of social intercourse vanished always before 
 the enthusiasm created by the return to his native city of 
 a man renowned for valor ; and Lysander's fame had come 
 back to Sparta before himself. Joyously, and in triumph, 
 the young men bore away their comrade. As they passed 
 through the centre of the Agora, where assembled the vari- 
 ous merchants and farmers, who, under the name of Peri- 
 oeci, carried on the main business of the Laconian mart, and 
 were often much wealthier than the Spartan citizens, trade 
 ceased its hubbub ; all drew near to gaze on the young war- 
 rior ; and now, as they turned from the Agora, a group of 
 eager women met them on the road, atad shrill voices ex- 
 claimed, " Go, Lysander, thou hast fought well — go and 
 choose for thyself the maiden that seems to thee the fair- 
 est. Go, marry, and get sons for Sparta." 
 
 Lysander's step seemed to tread on air, and tears of rapt- 
 ure stood in his downcast eyes. But suddenly all the voices 
 hushed ; the crowds drew back ; his friends halted. Close 
 by the great Temple of Fear, and coming from some place 
 within its sanctuary, there approached toward the Spartan 
 and his comrades a majestic woman — a woman of so grand 
 a step and port, that, though her veil as yet hid her face, 
 her form alone sufficed to inspire awe. All knew her by 
 her gait ; all made way for Alithea, the widow of a king, 
 the mother of Pausanias the Eegent. Lysander, lifting his 
 eyes from the ground, impressed by the hush around him. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN, 247 
 
 recognized the form as it advanced slowly toward Mm, and, 
 leaving his comrades behind, stepped forward to salute the 
 mother of his chief. She, thus seeing him, turned slightly 
 aside, and paused by a rade building of immemorial an- 
 tiquity which stood near the temple. That building was 
 the tomb of the mythical Orestes, whose bones were said to 
 have been interred there by the command of the Delphian 
 Oracle. On a stone at the foot of the tomb sat calmly 
 down the veiled woman, and Waited the approach of Ly- 
 sander. When he came near, and alone — all the rest re- 
 maining aloof and silent — Alithea removed her veil, and 
 a countenance grand and terrible as that of a Fate lifted 
 its rigid looks to the young Spartan's eyes. Despite her 
 age — ^for she had passed into middle life before she had 
 borne Pausanias — Alithea retained all the traces of a mar- 
 velous and almost preterhuman beauty. But it was not 
 the beauty of woman. No softness sat on those lips ; no 
 love beamed from those eyes. Stern, inexorable — not a 
 fault in her grand proportions — the stoutest heart might 
 have felt a throb of terror as the eye rested upon that piti- 
 less and imposing front. And the deep voice of the Spar- 
 tan warrior had a slight tremor in its tone as it uttered its 
 respectful salutation. 
 
 " Draw near, Lysander. "What sayest thou of my son ?" 
 
 " I left him well, and—" 
 
 " Does a Spartan mother first ask of the bodily health of 
 an absent man-child? By the tomb of Orestes and near 
 the Temple of Fear, a king's widow asks a Spartan soldier 
 what he says of a Spartan chief." 
 
248 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 "All Hellas," replied Lysander, recovering his spirit, 
 "might answer thee best, Alithea. For all Hellas pro- 
 claimed that the bravest man at Platsea was thy son, my 
 chief." 
 
 " And where did my son, thy chief, learn to boast of 
 bravery? They tell me he inscribed the offerings to the 
 gods with his name as the Victor of Platsea — the battle 
 won, not by one man, but assembled Greece. The inscrip: 
 tion that dishonors him by its vainglory will be erased. 
 To be brave is naught. Barbarians may be brave. But 
 to dedicate bravery to his native land becomes a Spartan. 
 He who is every thing against a foe should count himself 
 as nothin~g in the service of his country." 
 
 Lysander remained silent under the gaze of those fixed 
 and imperious eyes. 
 
 " Youth," said Alithea, after a short pause, " if thou re- 
 tumest to Byzantium, say this from Alithea to thy chief : 
 ' From thy childhood, Pausanias, has thy mother feared for 
 thee ; and at the Temple of Fear did she sacrifice when 
 she heard that thou wert victorious at Platsea ; for in thy 
 heart are the seeds of arrogance and pride ; and victory to 
 thine arms may end in ruin to thy name. And ever since 
 that day does Alithea haunt the precincts of that temple. 
 Come back and be Spartan, as thine ancestors were be- 
 fore thee, and Alithea will rejoice, and think the gods have 
 heard her. But if thou seest within thyself one cause why 
 thy mother should sacrifice to Fear, lest her son should 
 break the laws of Sparta, or sully his Spartan name, humble 
 thyself, and mourn that thou didst not perish at Platsea. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 249 
 
 By a temple and from a tomb I send thee waming.' Say 
 this. I have done ; join thy friends." 
 
 Again the veil fell over the face, and the figure of the 
 woman remained seated at the tomb long after the pro- 
 cession had passed on, and the mirth of young voices was 
 again released. 
 
 11* 
 
250 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The group that attended Lysander continued to swell as 
 he moanted the acclivity on which his parental home was 
 placed. The houses of the Spartan proprietors were at that 
 day not closely packed together as in the dense population 
 of commercial towns. More like the villas of a suburb, 
 they lay a little apart, on the unequal surface of the rugged 
 ground, perfectly plain and unadorned, covering a large 
 space with ample court -yards, closed in, in front of the 
 narrow streets. And still was in force the primitive law 
 which ordained that door-ways should be shaped only by 
 the saw, and the ceilings by the axe ; but in contrast to the 
 rudeness of the private houses, at every opening in the street 
 were seen the Doric pillars or graceful stairs of a temple ; 
 and high over all dominated the Tower -hUl, or Acropolis, 
 with the antique fane of Pallas Chalcioecus. 
 
 And so, loud and joyous, the procession bore the young 
 warrior to the threshold of his home. It was an act of 
 public honor to his fair repute and his proven valor. And 
 the Spartan felt as proud of that unceremonious attendance 
 as ever did Roman chief sweeping under arches of triumph 
 in the curule car. 
 
 At the threshold of the door stood his mother — for the 
 tidings of his coming had preceded him — and his little 
 
PAUSANIAS, THB SPARTAN. 251 
 
 brothers and sisters. His step quickened at the sight of 
 these beloved faces. 
 
 " Bound forward, Lysander," said one of the train ; " thou 
 hast won the right to thy mother's kiss." 
 
 " But fail us not at the pheidition before sunset," cried 
 another. " Every one of the obe will send his best contri- 
 bution to the feast to welcome thee back. We shall have a 
 rare banquet of it." 
 
 And so, as his mother drew him within the doors, his 
 arm round her waist, and the children clung to his cloak, to 
 his knees, or sprung up to claim his kiss, the procession set 
 up a kind of chanted shout, and left the warrior in his home. 
 
 " Oh, this is joy, joy !" said Lysander, with sweet tears 
 in his eyes, as he sat in the women's apartment, his mother 
 by his side, and the little ones round him. " Where, save 
 in Sparta, does a man love a home ?" 
 
 And this exclamation, which might have astonished an 
 Ionian — seeing how much the Spartan civilians merged the 
 individual in the state — was yet true, where the Spartan 
 was wholly Spartan, where, by habit and association, he had 
 learned to love the severities of the existence that surround- 
 ed him, and where the routine of duties which took him 
 from his home, whether for exercises or the public tables, 
 made yet more precious the hours of rest and intimate in- 
 tercourse with his family. For the gay pleasures and lewd 
 resorts of other Greek cities were not known to the Spar- 
 tan. Not for him were the cook-shops and baths and 
 revels of Ionian idlers. When the state ceased to claim 
 him, he had nothing but his home. 
 
252 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 As Lysander thus exclaimed, the door of the room had 
 opened noiselessly, and Agesilaus stood unperceived at the 
 entrance, and overheard his son. His face brightened sin- 
 gularly at Lysander's words. He came forward and opened 
 his arms. 
 
 " Embrace me now, my boy ! my brave boy ! embrace 
 me now I The Ephors are not here." 
 
 Lysander turned, sprung up, and was in his father's 
 arms. 
 
 " So thou art not changed. Byzantium has not spoiled 
 thee. Thy name is uttered with praise unmixed with fear. 
 AH Persia's gold, all the great king's satrapies, could not 
 Medize my Lysander. Ah," continued the father, turning 
 to his wife, "who could have predicted the happiness of 
 this hour ? Poor child ! he was born sickly. Hera had al- 
 ready given us more sons than we could provide for, ere our 
 lands were increased by the death of thy childless relatives. 
 Wife, wife ! when the family council ordained him to be 
 exposed on Taygetus, when thou didst hide thyself lest thy 
 tears should be seen, and my voice trembled as I said, ' Be 
 the laws obeyed,' who could have guessed that the gods 
 would yet preserve him to be the pride of our house? 
 Blessed be Zeus the savior, and Hercules the warrior !" 
 
 " And," said the mother, " blessed be Pausanias, the de- 
 scendant of Hercules, who took the forlorn infant to his fa- 
 ther's home, and who has reared him now to be the ex- 
 ample of Spartan youths." 
 
 "Ah," said Lysander, looking up into his father's eyes, 
 " if I can ever be worthy of your love, my father, forget 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 253 
 
 not, I pray thee, that it is to Fausanias I owe life, home, 
 and a Spartan's glorious destiny." 
 
 " I forget it not," answered Agesilaus, with a mournful 
 and serious expression of countenance. " And on this I 
 would speak to thee. Thy mother must spare thee a while 
 to me. Come. I lean on thy shoulder instead of my staff." 
 
 Agesilaus led his son into the large hall, which was the 
 main chamber of the house ; and pacing up and down the 
 wide and solitary floor, questioned him closely as to the 
 truth of the stories respecting the Regent which had reach- 
 ed the Ephors. 
 
 "Thou must speak with naked heart to me," said 
 Agesilaus ; " for I tell thee that, Lf I am Spartan, I am also 
 man and father; and I would serve him, who saved thy 
 life and taught thee how to fight for thy country, in every 
 way that may be lawful to a Spartan and a Greek." 
 
 Thus addressed, and convinced of his father's sincerity, 
 Lysander replied with ingenuous and brief simplicity. He 
 granted that Pausanias had exposed himself with a haughty 
 imprudence, which it was difficult to account for, to the 
 charges of the lonians. " But," he added, with that shrewd 
 observation which his affection for Pausanias rather than 
 his experience of human nature had taught him — " but we 
 must remember that in Pausanias we are dealing with no 
 ordinary man. If he has faults of judgment which' a Spar- 
 tan rarely commits, he has, O my father, a force of intellect 
 and passion which a Spartan as rarely knows. Shall I tell 
 you the truth ? Our state is too small for him. But would 
 
 it not have been too small for Hercules ? "Would the laws 
 22 
 
254 PAUSANIAS, THE BPABTAlf. 
 
 of ^gimius have permitted Hercules to perform his labors 
 and achieve his conquests ? This vast and fiery nature sud-' 
 denly released from the cramps of our customs, which Pau- 
 sanias never in his youth regarded save as galling, expands 
 itself, as an eagle long caged would outspread its wings." 
 
 " I comprehend," said Agesilaus, thoughtfully, and some- 
 what sadly. " There have been moments in my own life 
 when I regarded Sparta as a prison. In my early manhood 
 I was sent on a mission to Corinth. Its pleasures, its wild 
 tumult of gay license, dazzled and inebriated me. I said, 
 ' This it is to live.' I came back to Sparta sullen and dis- 
 contented. But then, happily, I saw thy mother at the fes- 
 tival of Diana. We loved each other, we married; and 
 when I was permitted to take her to my home, I became 
 sobered and was a Spartan again. I comprehend. Poor 
 Pausanias ! But luxury and pleasure, though they .charm a 
 while, do not fill up the whole of a soul like that of our 
 Heracleid. From these he may recover; but ambition — 
 that is the true liver of Tantalus, and grows larger under 
 the beak that feeds on it. "What is his ambition, if Sparta 
 be too small for him ?" 
 
 " I think his ambition would be to make Sparta as big as 
 himself." 
 
 Agesilaus stroked his chin musingly. 
 
 "And how?" 
 
 " I can not tell, I can only guess. But the Persian war, 
 if I may judge by what I hear and see, can not roll away 
 and leave the boundaries of each Greek state the same. 
 Two states now stand forth prominent, Athens and Sparta. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 255 
 
 Themistocles and Cimon aim at mating Attens the head of 
 Hellas. Perhaps Fausanias aims to effect for Sparta what 
 they would effect for Athens." 
 
 "And what thinkest thou of such a scheme?" 
 
 "Ask me not. I am too young, too inexperienced, and 
 perhaps too Spartan to answer rightly." 
 
 " Too Spartan, because thou art too covetous of power 
 for Sparta." 
 
 "Too Spartan, because I may be too anxious tQ keep 
 Sparta what she is." 
 
 Agesilaus smiled. " We are of the same mind, my son. 
 Think not that the rocky defiles which inclose us shut out 
 from our minds all the ideas that new circumstance strikes 
 from time. I have meditated on what thou sayest. Pau- 
 sanias may scheme. It is true that the invasion of the 
 Mede must tend to raise up one state in Greece to which 
 the others will look for a head. I have asked myself, can 
 Sparta be that state ? and my reason tells me. No ; Sparta 
 is lost if she attempt it. She may become something else, 
 but she can not be Sparta. Such a state must become mari- 
 time, and depend on fleets. Our inland situation forbids 
 this. True, we have ports in which the Perioeci flourish ; 
 but did we use them for a permanent policy, the Perioeci 
 must become our masters. These five villages would be 
 abandoned for a mart on the sea -shore. This mother of 
 men would be no more. A state that so aspires must have 
 ample wealth at its command. We have none. We might 
 raise tribute from other Greek cities, but for that purpose 
 we must have fleets again, to overawe and compel, for no 
 
236 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 tribute will be long voluntary. A state that would be the 
 active governor' of Hellas must have lives to spare in abun- 
 dance. We have none, unless we always do hereafter as we 
 did at Platsea, raise an army of Helots — seven Helots to one 
 Spartan. How long, if we did so, would the Helots obey 
 us, and meanwhile how would our lands be cultivated ? A 
 state that would be the centre of Greece must cultivate all 
 that can charm and allure strangers. "We banish strangers, 
 and what charms and allures them would womanize us. 
 More than all, a state that would obtain the sympathies of 
 the turbulent Hellenic populations must have the most 
 popular institutions. It must be governed by a Demus. 
 We are an Oligarchic Aristocracy — a disciplined camp of 
 warriors, not a licentious Agora. Therefore, Sparta can 
 not assume the head of a Greek Confederacy except in the 
 rare seasons of actual war ; and the attempt to make her 
 the head of such a confederacy would cause changes so re- 
 pugnant to our manners and habits, that it would be fraught 
 with destruction to him who made the attempt, or to us if 
 he succeeded. Wherefore, to sum up, the ambition of Pau- 
 sanias is in this impracticable, and must be opposed." 
 
 "And Athens," cried Lysander, with a slight pang of 
 natural and national jealousy, "Athens, then, must wrest 
 from Pausanias the hegemony he now holds for Sparta, and 
 Athens must be what the Athenian ambition covets." 
 
 " We can not help it — she must ; but can it last ! Im- 
 possible. And woe to her if she ever comes in contact 
 with the bronze of Laconian shields. But, in the mean 
 while, what is to be done with this great and awful Hera- 
 
PAUBANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 257 
 
 cleid? They accuse him of Medizing, of secret conspiracy 
 with Persia itself. Can that be possible ?" 
 
 " If so, it is but to use Persia on behalf of Sparta. If he 
 would subdue Greece, it is not for the king — it is for the 
 race of Hercules." 
 
 "Ay, ay, ay," cried Agesilaus, shading his face with his 
 hand. "All becomes clear to me now. Listen. Did I 
 openly defend Pausanias before the Ephors, I should in- 
 jure his cause. But when they talk of his betraying Hellas 
 and Sparta, I place before them, nakedly and broadly, their 
 duty if that charge be true. For if true, my son, Pau- 
 sanias must die as criminals die." 
 
 "Die — criminal — a Heracleid — king's blood — the Vic- 
 tor of Plataea — my friend Pausanias !" 
 
 " Kather he than Sparta. What sayest thou ?" 
 
 "Neither, neither," exclaimed Lysander, wringing his 
 hands^" impossible both." 
 
 "Impossible both, be it so. I place before the Ephors 
 the terrors of accrediting that charge, in order that they 
 may repudiate it. For the lesser ones it matters not ; he is 
 in no danger there, save that of fine. And his gold," add- 
 ed Agesilaus, with a curved lip of disdain, " will both con- 
 demn and save him. For the rest, I would spare him the 
 dishonor of being publicly recalled, and, to say truth, I 
 would save Sparta the peril she might incur from his wrath, 
 if she inflicted on him that slight. But mark me, he him- 
 self must resign his command, voluntarily, and return to 
 Sparta. Better so for him and his pride, for he can not 
 
 keep the hegemony against the will of the lonians, whose 
 22* R 
 
258 PAtrSANIAS, THE SPAKTAN. 
 
 fleet is so mucti larger ttan ours, and it is to his gain if 
 his successor lose it, not he. But better, not only for his 
 pride, but for his glory and his name, that he should come 
 from these scenes of fierce temptation, and, since birtli 
 made him a Spartan, learn here again to conform to what he 
 can not change. I have spoken thus plainly to thee. Use 
 the words I have uttered as thou best may, after thy return 
 to Pausanias, which I will strive to make speedy. But 
 while we talk there goes on danger — danger still of his 
 abrupt recall — for there are those who will seize every ex- 
 cuse for it. Enough of these grave matters: the sun is 
 sinking toward the west, and thy companions await thee at 
 thy feast ; mine will be eager to greet me on thy return, 
 and thy little brothers, who go with me to my pheidition, 
 will hear thee so praised that they will long for the crypteia 
 — ^long to be men, and find some future Platsea for them- 
 selves. May the gods forbid it ! War is a terrible unset- 
 tier. Time saps states, as a tide the cliff. War is an inun- 
 dation ; and when it ebbs, a landmark has vanished." 
 
PAUSANIAS. THE SPARTAN. 259 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Nothing so largely contributed to tte peculiar character 
 of Spartan society as the uniform custom of taking the prin- 
 cipal meal at a public table. It conduced to four objects : 
 the precise status of aristocracy, since each table was formed 
 according to title and rank; equality among aristocrats, 
 since each at the same table was held the equal of the oth- 
 er ; military union, for as they feasted so they fought, being 
 formed into divisions in the field according as they messed 
 together at home ; and, lastly, that sort of fellowship in pub- 
 lic opinion which intimate association among those of the 
 same rank and habit naturally occasions. These tables in 
 Sparta werg supplied by private contributions ; each head 
 of a family was obliged to send a certain portion, at his own 
 cost, and according to the number of his children. K his 
 fortune did not allow him to do this, he was excluded from 
 the public tables. Hence, a certain fortune was indispensa- 
 ble to the pure Spartan, and this was one reason why it 
 was permitted to expose infants, if the family threatened to 
 be too large for the father's means. The general arrange- 
 ments were divided into syssitia, according, perhaps, to the 
 number of families, and correspondent to the divisions, or 
 obes, acknowledged by the state. But these larger sections 
 were again subdivided into companies or clubs of fifteen, 
 
260 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 vacancies being filled up by ballot ; but one vote could ex- 
 clude. And since, as we have said, the companies were mar- 
 shaled in the field according to their association at the table, 
 it is clear that fathers of grave years and of high station 
 (station in Sparta increased with years) could not have be- 
 longed to the same table as the young men, their sons. 
 Their boys under a certain age they took to their own 
 pheiditia, where the children sat upon a lower bench, and 
 partook of the simplest dishes of the fare. 
 
 Though the cheer at these public tables was habitually 
 plain, yet upon occasion it was enriched by presents to the 
 after-course, of game and fruit. 
 
 Lysander was received by his old comrades with that cor- 
 diality in which was mingled for the first time a certain 
 manly respecv, due to feats in battle, and so flattering to the 
 young. 
 
 The prayer to the gods, con'espondent to the modern 
 grace, and the pio^s libations being concluded, the attend- 
 ant Helots served the black broth, and the party fell to, 
 with the appetite produced by hardy exercise and mount- 
 ain air. 
 
 "What do the allies say to the black broth?" asked a 
 young Spartan. 
 
 "They do not comprehend its merits," answered Lysan- 
 der. 
 
PATJSANIAS, THB SPARTAN. 261 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 EvEET thing in the familiar life to which he had re- 
 turned delighted the young Lysander. But for anxious 
 thoughts about Pausanias, he would have been supremely 
 blessed. To him the various scenes of his early years 
 brought no associations of the restraint and harshness which 
 revolted the more luxurious nature and the fiercer genius of 
 Pausanias. The plunge into the frigid waters of Eurotas — 
 the sole bath permitted to the Spartans* at a time when the 
 rest of Greece had aljfeady carried the art of bathing into 
 voluptuous refinement; the sight of the vehement contests 
 of the boys, drawn up as in battle, at the game of foot-ball, 
 or in detached engagements, sparing each other so little that 
 the popular belief out of Sparta was that they were permit- 
 ted to tear out each other's eyes,f but subjecting strength to 
 every skillful art that gymnastics could teach; the mimic 
 war on the island, near the antique trees of the Plane Gar 
 
 * Except occasionally the dry sudorific bath, all warm bath' 
 ing was strictly forbidden, as enervating. 
 
 t An evident exaggeration. The Spartans had too great a 
 regard for the physical gifts as essential to warlike uses, to 
 permit cruelties that would have blinded their young warriors. 
 Aud they even forbade the practice of the pancratium as fero- 
 cious and needlessly dangerous to life. 
 
262 PAtrSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 den, ws^ed with weapons of wood and blunted iron, and the 
 tnarch regulated to the music of flutes and lyres ; nay, even 
 the sight of the stern altar, at which boys had learned to 
 bear the anguish of stripes without a murmur — all produced 
 in this primitive and intensely national intelligence an in- 
 creased admiration for the ancestral laws, which, carrying 
 patience, fortitude, address, and strength to the utmost per- 
 fection, had formed a hapdful of men into the calm lords of 
 a fierce population, and placed the fenceless villages of Spar- 
 ta beyond a fear of the external assaults and the civil revo- 
 lutions which perpetually stormed the citadels and agitated 
 the market-places of Hellenic cities. His was not the mind 
 to perceive that much was relinquished for the sake of that 
 which was gained, or to comprehend that there was more 
 which consecrates humanity in one stormy day of Athens 
 than in a serene century of iron Lacedsemon. But there is 
 ever beauty of soul where there is enthusiastic love of 
 country; and the young Spartan was wise in his own Do- 
 rian way. 
 
 The religious festival which had provided the Ephors 
 with an excuse for delaying their answer to the Ionian en- 
 voys occupied the city. The youths and the maidens met 
 in the sacred chorus ; and Lysander, standing by amidst the 
 gazte, suddenly felt his heart beat. A boy pulled him by 
 the skirt of his mantle. 
 
 "Lysander, hast thou yet scolded Percalus?" said the 
 boy's voice, archly. 
 
 " My young friend," answered Lysander, coloring high, 
 " Percalus hath vouchsafed me as yet no occasion ; and, 
 
PAUSANIA8, THE SPARTAN. 263 
 
 indeed, she alone, of all- the friends whom I left behind, does 
 not seem to recognize me." 
 
 His eyes, as he spoke, rested with a mute reproach in their 
 gaze on the form of a virgin who had just paused in the 
 choral dance, and whose looks were bent obdurately on the 
 ground. Her luxuriant hair was drawn upward from cheek 
 and brow, braided into a knot at the crown of the head, in 
 the fashion so trying to those who have neither bloom nor 
 beauty, so exquisitely becoming to those who have both ; 
 and the maiden, even amidst Spartan girls, was pre-eminent- 
 ly lovely. It is true that the sun had somewhat" embrowned^ 
 the smooth cheek ; but the stately throat and the rounded 
 arms were admirably fair — not, indeed, with the pale and 
 dead whiteness which the Ionian women sought to obtain 
 -by art, but with the delicate rose-hue of Hebe's youth. Her 
 garment of snow-white wool, fastened over both shoulders 
 with large golden clasps, was without sleeves, fitting not too 
 tightly to the harmonious form, and leaving more than the 
 ankle free to the easy glide of the dance. Taller than Hel- 
 lenic women usually were, but about the average height of 
 her Spartan companions, her shape was that which the 
 sculptors give to Artemis. Light and feminine and virgin- 
 like, but with all the rich vitality of a divine youth, with 
 a force, not indeed of a man, but such as art would give to 
 the goddess whose step bounds over the mountain-top, and 
 whose arm can launch the shaft from the silver bow — yet. 
 was there something in the mien and face of Percalus more 
 subdued and bashful than in those of most of the girls 
 around her ; and, as if her ear had caught Lysander's words, 
 
264 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 a smile just now played round her lips, and gave to all the 
 countenance a wonderful sweetness. Then, as it became her 
 turn once more to join in the circling measure, she lifted 
 her eyes, directed them full upon the young Spartan, and 
 the eyes said plainly, " Ungrateful ! I forget thee ! I !" 
 
 It was but one glance, and she seemed again wholly in- 
 tent upon the dance ; but Lysander felt as if he had tasted 
 the nectar and caught a glimpse of the courts of the gods. 
 No further approach was made by either, although intervals^ 
 in the evening permitted it. But if, on the one hand, there 
 was in Sparta an intercourse between the youth of both 
 sexes wholly unknown in most of the Grecian States, and 
 if that intercourse made marriages of love especially more 
 common there than elsewhere, yet, when love did actually 
 exist, and was acknowledged by some young pair, they 
 shunned public notice ; the passion became a secret, or con- 
 fidants to it were few. Then came the charm of stealth : to 
 woo and to win, as if the treasure were to be robbed by a 
 lover from the heaven unknown to man. Accordingly, Ly- 
 sander now mixed with the spectators, conversed cheerfully, 
 only at distant intervals permitted his eyes to turn to Per- 
 calns, and when her part in the chorus had concluded, a 
 sigh, undetected by others, seemed to have been exchanged 
 between them, and, a little while after, Lysander had dis- 
 appeared from the assembly. 
 
 He wandered down the street called the Aphetais, and 
 after a little while the way became perfectly still and lone- 
 ly, for the inhabitants had crowded to the sacred festival, 
 and the houses lay quiet and scattered. So he went on, 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 265 
 
 passing the ancient temple in which Ulysses is said to have 
 dedicated a statue in honor of his victory in the race over 
 the suitors of Penelope, and paused where the ground lay 
 bare and rugged around many a monument to the fabled 
 chiefs of the heroic age. Upon a crag that jutted over a 
 silent hollow, covered with oleander and arbute, and here 
 and there the wild rose, the young lover sat down, waiting 
 patiently ; for the eyes of Percalas had told him he should 
 not wait in vain. Afar he saw, in the exceeding clearness 
 of the atmosphere, the Taenarium, or Temple of Neptune, 
 nnprophetic of the dark connection that shrine would here- 
 after have with him whom he then honored as a chief wor- 
 thy, after death, of a monument amidst those heroes ; and 
 the gale that cooled his forehead wandered to him from the 
 field of the Hellanium in which the envoys of Greece had 
 taken council how to oppose the march of Xerxes, when his 
 myriads first poured into Europe. 
 
 Alas ! all the great passions that distinguish race from 
 race pass away in the tide of generations. The enthusi- 
 asm of soul which gives us heroes and demi-gods for ances- 
 tors, and hallows their empty tombs ; the vigor of thought- 
 ful freedom which guards the soil from invasion, and shivers 
 force upon the edge of intelligence. The heroic age and 
 the civilized alike depart; and he who wanders through 
 the glens of Laconia can scarcely guess where was the mon- 
 ument of Lelex, or the field *of the Hellanium. And yet on 
 the same spot where-sat the young Spartan warrior, waiting 
 for the steps of the beloved one, may, at this very hour, 
 some rustic lover be seated, with a heart beating with hke 
 23 12 
 
266 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 emotions, and an ear listening for as liglit a tread. Love 
 alone never passes away from the spot where its footstep 
 hath once pressed the earth, and reclaimed the savage. 
 Traditions, freedom, the thirst for glory, art, laws, creeds, 
 vanish ; hut the eye thrills the breast, and hand warms to 
 hand, as before the name of Lycurgus was heard, or Helen 
 was borne a bride to. the home of Menelaus. Under the in- 
 fluence of this power, then, something of youth is still re- 
 tained by nations the most worn with time. But the pow- 
 er thus eternal in nations is short-lived for the individual 
 being. Brief, indeed, in the life of each is that season 
 which lasts forever in the life of all. From the old age of 
 nations glory fade^ away ; but in their utmost decrepitude 
 there is still a generation young enough to love. To the 
 individual man, however, glory alone remains when the 
 snows of ages have fallen, and love is but the memory of a 
 boyish dream. No wonder that the Greek genius, half in- 
 credulous of the soul, clung with such tenacity to youth. 
 What a sigh from the heart of the old sensuous world 
 breathes in the strain of Mimnermus, bewailing with so 
 fierce and so deep a sorrow the advent of the years in 
 which man is loved no more ! 
 
 Lysander's eye was still along the solitary road, when he 
 heard a low, musical laugh behind him. He started in sur- 
 prise, and beheld Percalus. Her mirth was increased by his 
 astonished gaze, till, in revenge, he caught both her hands, 
 and, drawing her toward him, kissed, not without a strug- 
 gle, the lips into serious gravity. 
 
 Extricating herself from him, the maiden put on an air 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 267 
 
 o^ offended dignity, and Lysander, abashed at his own au- 
 dacity, muttered some broken words of penitence. 
 
 " But, indeed," he added, as he saw the cloud vanishing 
 from her brow, "indeed thou wert so provoking, and so 
 irresistibly beauteous. And how earnest thou here, as if 
 thou hadst dropped from the heavens ?" 
 
 " Didst thou think," answered Percalus, demurely, " that 
 I could be suspected of following thee ? Nay ; I tarried till 
 I could accompany Euryclea to her home yonder, and then, 
 slipping from her by her door, I came across the grass and 
 the glen to search for the arrow shot yesterday in the hol- 
 low below thee." So saying, she tripped from the crag by 
 his side into the nooked recess below, which was all out of 
 sight, in case some passenger should pass the road, and 
 where, stooping down, she seemed to busy herself in search- 
 ing for the shaft amidst the odorous shrubs. 
 
 Lysander was not slow in following her footstep. 
 
 "Thine arrow is here," said he, placing his hand to his 
 heart. 
 
 " Fie ! The Ionian poets teach thee these compliments.** 
 
 " Not so. Who hath sung more of Love and his arrows 
 than our own Alcman ?" 
 
 "Mean you the Eegent's favorite brother?" 
 
 "Oh no! The ancient Alcman; the poet whom even 
 the Ephora sanction." 
 
 Percalus ceased to seek for the arrow, and they seated 
 themselves on a little knoll in the hollow, side by side, and 
 frankly she gave him her hand, and listened, with rosy 
 cheek and rising bosom, to his honest wooing. He told her 
 
268 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 truly how her image had been -with him in the strange 
 lands ; how faithful he had been to the absent, amidst all 
 the beauties of the Isles and of the East. He reminded her 
 of their early days — ^how, even as children, each had sought 
 the other. He spoke of his doubts, his fears, lest he should 
 find himself forgotten or replaced ; and how overjoyed he 
 had been when at last her eye replied to his. 
 
 " And we understood each other so well, did we not, Per- 
 calus ? Here we have so often met before ; here we part- 
 ed last ; here thou knewest I should go ; here I knew that I 
 might await thee." 
 
 Percalus did not answer at much length, but what she 
 said suflSced to enchant her lover. For the education of 
 a Spartan maid did not favor the affected concealment of 
 real feelings. It could not, indeed, banish what Nature pre- 
 scribes to women — the modest self-esteem, the difiSculty to 
 utter by word what eye and blush reveal — nor, perhaps, 
 something of that arch and innocent malice which enjoys 
 to taste the power which beauty exercises before the warm 
 heart will freely acknowledge the power which sways itself. 
 But the girl, though a little willful and high-spirited, was a 
 candid, pure, and noble creature, and too proud of being 
 loved by Lysander to feel more than a maiden's shame to 
 confess her own. 
 
 " And when I return," said the Spartan, " ah ! then, look 
 out and take care ; for I shall speak to thy father, gain his 
 consent to our betrothal, and then carry thee away despite 
 all thy struggles, to the brides-maid, and these long locks, 
 alas ! will fall." 
 
J) 
 
 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 269 
 
 " I thank thee for thy warning, and will find my arrow in 
 time to guard myself," said Percalus, turning away her 
 face, but holding up her hand in pretty menace ; " but 
 where is the arrow ? I must make haste and find it." 
 
 "Thou wilt have time enough, courteous Amazon, in 
 mine absence, for I must soon return to Byzantium." 
 
 Percalus. " Art thou so sure of that ?" 
 
 Ly Sander. " Why — dost thou doubt it S" 
 
 Percalus (rising and moving the arbute boughs aside 
 with the tip of her sandal). "And unless thou wouldst 
 wait very long for my father's consent, perchance thou 
 mayst have to ask for it very soon — too soon to prepare 
 thy courage for so great a peril." 
 
 Lysander (perplexed). "What canst thou mean? By 
 all the gods, I pray thee speak plain !" 
 
 Percalus. "If Pausanias be recalled, wouldst thou still 
 go to Byzantium 3" 
 
 Lysander. "No; but I think the Ephors have decided 
 not so to discredit their General." 
 
 Percalus (shaking her head incredulously). " Count not 
 on their decision so surely, valiant warrior. And suppose 
 that Pausanias is recalled, and that some one else is sent in 
 his place whose absence would prevent thy obtaining that 
 consent thou covetest, and so frustrate thy designs on — on—" 
 (she added, blushing scarlet) — " on these poor locks of mine." 
 
 Lysander (starting). " Oh, Percalus, do I conceive thee 
 aright? Hast thou any reason to think that thy father 
 Dorcis will be sent to replace Pausanias — the great Pau- 
 sanias?" 
 23* 
 
270 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAIT. 
 
 Percalus (a little offended at a tone of expression wiicli 
 seemed to slight her father's pretensions). " Dorcis, my fa- 
 ther, is a warrior whom Sparta reckons second to none ; 
 a most brave captain, and every inch a Spartan; but — 
 but—" 
 
 Lysander. " Percalus, do not trifle with me. Thou know- 
 est how my fate has been linked to the Regent's. Thou 
 must have intelligence not shared even by my father, him- 
 self an Ephor. "What is it ?" 
 
 Percalus. " Thou wilt be secret, my Lysander, for what 
 I may tell thee I can only learn at the hearth-stone." 
 
 Lysander. "Fear me not. Is not aU between us a 
 secret 3" 
 
 Percalus. " Well, then, Periclides and my father, as thou 
 art aware, are near kinsmen. And when the Ionian envoys 
 first arrived, it was my father who was specially appointed 
 to see to their fitting entertainment. And that same night 
 I overheard Dorcis say to my mother, ' If I could succeed 
 Pausanias, and conclude this war, I should be consoled for 
 not having commanded at Platsea.' And my mother, who 
 is proud for her husband's glory, as a woman should be, 
 said, ' Why not strain every nerve as for a crown in Olym- 
 pia ? Periclides will aid thee — thou wilt win.' " 
 
 Lysander. " But that was the first night of the lonians' 
 arrival." 
 
 Percalus. " Since then I believe that thy father and oth- 
 ers of the Ephors overruled Periclides and Zeuxidamus, for 
 I have heard all that passed between my father and mother 
 on the subject. But early this morning, while my mother 
 
PAUSANIASj THE SPARTAN. 271 
 
 •was assisting to attire me for the festival, Periclides him- 
 self called at our house, and before I came from home, my 
 mother, after a short conference with Dorcis, said to me. La 
 the exuberance of her joy, ' Go, child, and call here all the 
 maidens, as thy father ere long will go to outshine aH the 
 Grecian chiefs.' So that if my father does go, thou wilt 
 remain in Sparta. Then, my beloved Lysander — and — and 
 — ^but what ails thee ? Is that thought so sorrowful ?" 
 
 Lysander^ "Pardon me, pardon; thou art a Spartan 
 maid; thou must comprehend what should be felt by a 
 Spartan soldier when he thinks of humiliation and ingrati- 
 tude to his chief. Gods ! the man who rolled back the 
 storm of the Mede to be insulted in the iface of Hellas by 
 the government of his native city! The blush of shame 
 apon his cheek burns my own." 
 
 The warrior bowed his face in his clasped hands. 
 
 Not a resentful thought natural to female vanity and ex- 
 acting affection then crossed the mind of the Spartan girl. 
 She felt at once, by the sympathy of kindred nurture, aU 
 that was torturing her lover. She was even prouder of him 
 that he forgot her for the moment to be so truthful to his 
 chief; and, abandoning the innocent coyness she had be^ 
 fore shown, she put her arm round his neck with a pure 
 and sisterly fondness, and, kissing his brow, whispered, 
 soothingly, "It is for me to ask pardon, that I did not 
 think of this — that I spoke so foolishly; but comfort — 
 thy chief is not disgraced even by recall. Let them recall 
 Paiisanias, they can not recall his glory. When, in Sparta, 
 did we ever hold a brave man discredited by obedience to 
 
272 PAUSANIAS, THE SPAETAN. 
 
 the government ? None are disgraced who do not disgrace 
 themselves." 
 
 "Ah! my Percalus, so I should say; but so will not 
 thint Pausanias, nor the allies ; and in this slight to him 
 I see the shadow of the Erinnys. But it may not be true 
 yet; nor can Periclides of himself dispose thus of the Lace- 
 daemonian armies." 
 
 "We will hope so, dear Lysander," said Percalus, who, 
 bom to be man's helpmate, then only thought of consol- 
 ing and cheering him. "And if thou dost return to the 
 camp, tarry as long as thou wilt, thou wUt find Percalus the 
 same." 
 
 "The gods bless thee, maiden!" said Lysander, with 
 grateful passion, " and blessed be the state that rears such 
 women ! Elsewhere Greece knows them not" 
 
 "And does Greece elsewhere know such men?" asked 
 Percalus, raising her graceful head. "But so late — is it 
 possible ? See where the shadows are falling ! Thou wilt 
 but be in time for thy pheiditfon. Farewell." 
 
 " But when to meet again ?" 
 
 "Alas! when we can." She sprung lightly away ; then, 
 turning her face as she fled, added, " Look out ! thou wert 
 taught to steal in thy boyhood — steal an interview. I will 
 be thy accomplice." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPABTAN. 273 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 That night, as Agesilaus was leaving the public table at 
 which he supped, Periclides, who was one of the same com- 
 pany, but who had been unusually silent during the enter- 
 tainment, approached him, and said, " Let us walk toward 
 thy home together ; the moon is up, and will betray listen- 
 ers to our converse, should there be any." 
 
 "And in default of the moon, thy years, if not yet 
 mine, permit thee a lantern, Periclides." 
 
 " I have not drunk enough to need it," answered the 
 chief of the Ephors, with unusual pleasantry ; " but as thou 
 art the younger man, I wUl lean on thine arm, so as to be 
 closer to thine ear." 
 
 " Thou hast something secret and grave to say, then ?" 
 
 Periclides nodded. 
 
 As they ascended the rugged acclivity, different groups, 
 equally retuming home from the public tables, passed them. 
 Though the sacred festival had given excuse for prolonging 
 the evening meal, and the wine -cup had been replenished 
 beyond the abstemious wont, still each little knot of revelers 
 passed and dispersed in a sober and decorous quiet which, 
 perhaps, no other eminent city in Greece could have exhibit- 
 ed; young and old equally grave and noiseless. For the 
 Spartan youth, no fair Hetserse then opened homes adom- 
 
 12* S 
 
274 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAlf, 
 
 ed with flowers, and gay with, wit, no less than alluring 
 with beauty ; but as the streets grew more deserted, there 
 stood in the thick shadow of some angle, or glided furtive- 
 ly by some winding wall, a bridegroom lover, tarrying, till 
 aU was still, to steal to the arms of the lawful wife, whom 
 for years perhaps he might not openly acknowledge and 
 carry in triumph to his hoipe. 
 
 But not of such young adventurers thought the sage Peri- 
 elides, though his voice was as low as a lover's " hist !" and 
 his step as stealthy as a bridegroom's tread- 
 
 " My friend," said he, " with the faint gray of the dawn 
 there comes to my house a new messenger from the camp, 
 and the tidings he brings change all our decisions. The 
 Festival does not permit us as Ephors to meet in public, 
 or, at least, I think thou wilt ^ee with me, it is more 
 prudent not to do so. All we should do now should be in 
 strict privacy." 
 
 "But, hush! from whom the message — Pausanias?" 
 
 " No — from Aristides the Atheman." 
 
 " And to what effect ?" 
 
 " The lonians have revolted from the Spartan hegemony, 
 and ranged themselves under the Athenian flag." 
 
 " Gods ! what I feared has already come to pass." 
 
 "And Aristides writes to me, with whom you remember 
 that he has the hospitable ties, that the Athenians can not 
 abandon their Ionian allies and kindred who thus appeal to 
 them ; and that if Pausanias remain, open war may break 
 out between the two divisions into which the fleet of Hellas 
 is now rent." 
 
PAtrSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 275 
 
 " This must not be, for it would be war at sea ; we and 
 the Peloponnesians have far the fewer vessels, the less able 
 seamen. Sparta would be conquered." 
 
 "Rather than Sparta should be conquered, must we not 
 recall her General ?" 
 
 " I would give all my lands, and sink out of the rank of 
 Equal, that this had not chanced," said Agesilaus, bitterly. 
 
 " Hist ! hist ! not so loud." 
 
 " I had hoped we might induce the Regent himself to 
 resign the command, and so have been spared the shame 
 and the pain of an act that affects the hero-blood of our 
 kings. Could not that be done yet ?" 
 
 "Dost thou think so? Pausanias resign in the midst 
 of a mutiny ! Thou canst not know the man." 
 
 " Thou art right — impossible. I see no option now. He 
 must be recalled. But the Spartan hegemony is, then, gone 
 — gone forever — gone to Athens." 
 
 " Not so. Sparta hath many a worthy son besides this 
 too arrogant Heracleid." 
 
 "Yes; but where his genius of command? — where his 
 immense renown ? — ^where a man, I say, not in Sparta, but 
 in all Greece, fit to cope with Aristides and Cimon in the 
 camp, with Themistocles in the city of onr rivals ? K Pau- 
 sanias fails, who succeeds ?" 
 
 "Be not deceived. What must be, must; it is but a 
 little time earlier than necessity would have fixed. Wonldst 
 thou take the command ?" 
 
 "I? The gods forbid !" 
 
 " Then, if thou wilt not, I know but one man." 
 
276 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 "And who is he?" 
 
 "Dorcis." 
 
 AgesHaus started, and, by the light of the moon, gazed 
 full upon the face of the chief Ephor. 
 
 " Thy Mnsman, Dorcis ! Ah, Periclides, hast thou 
 schemed this from the first 1" 
 
 Periclides changed color at finding himself thus abrupt- 
 ly detected, and as abruptly charged; however, he answer- 
 ed with laconic dryness : 
 
 " Friend, did I scheme the revolt of the lonians 2 But if 
 thou knowest a better man than Dorcis, speak. Is he not 
 brave 3" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Skillful?" 
 
 "No. Tut! thou art as conscious as I am that thou 
 mightest as well compare the hat on thy brow to the brain it 
 hides, as liken the stolid Dorcis to th^ fiery but profound 
 Heracleid." 
 
 "Ay, ay. But there is one merit the hat has which the 
 brow has not — it can do no harm. Shall we send our 
 chiefs to be made worse men by Eastern manners ? Dorcis 
 has dull wit, granted ; no arts can corrupt it. He may not 
 save the hegemony, but he will return as he went, a Spar- 
 tan." 
 
 " Thou art right again, and a wise man, Periclides. I 
 submit Thou hast my vote for Dorcis. What else hast 
 thou designed ? for I see now that whatever thou designest 
 that wilt thou accomplish ; and our meeting on the Archeion 
 is but an idle form," 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 277 
 
 Nay, nay," said Periclides, with liis austere smile, " thou 
 givest me a wit and a will that I have not. But as chief of 
 the Ephors I watch over, the state. And though I design 
 nothing, this I would counsel: On the day we answer the 
 lonians, we shall tell them, ' What ye ask, we long since 
 proposed to do.' And Dorcis is already on the seas as suc- 
 cessor to Pausanias." 
 
 " When will Dorcis leave ?" said Agesilaus, curtly. 
 " If the other Ephors concur, to-morrow night." 
 " Here we are at my doors ; wilt thou not enter ?" 
 " No. I have others yet to see. I knew we should be 
 of the same mind." 
 
 Agesilaus made no reply ; but as he entered the court- 
 yard of his house, he muttered uneasily, 
 
 "And if Lysander is right, and Sparta is too small for 
 Pausanias, do not we bring back a giant who will widen it 
 to his own girth, and raze the old foundations to make 
 room for the buildings he would add ?" 
 
 ******* 
 (unfinished.) 
 
 [The pages covered by the manuscript of this uncom- 
 pleted story of "Pausanias" are scarcely more numerous 
 than those which its author has filled with the notes made 
 by him from works consulted with special reference to the 
 subject of it. Those notes (upon Greek and Persian an- 
 tiquities) are wholly without interest for the general pub- 
 lic. They illustrate the author's conscientious industry, 
 
 but they afford no clue to the plot of his romance. Under 
 24 
 
278 
 
 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 the sawdust, however, thus fallen in the industrial process 
 of an imaginative wort, unhappily unfinished, I have found 
 two specimens of original composition. They are rough 
 sketches of songs expressly composed for "Pausanias;" 
 and, since they are not included in the foregoing portion 
 of it, I think they may properly be added here. The un- 
 rhymed lyrics introduced by my father into some of the 
 opening chapters of this romance appear to have been sug- 
 gested by some fragments of Mimnermus, and composed 
 about the same time as " The Lost Tales of Miletus." In- 
 deed, one of them has been already printed in that work. 
 The following verses, however, which are rhymed, bear evi- 
 dence of having been composed at a much earlier period. 
 I know not whether it was my father's intention to discard 
 them altogether, or to alter them materially, or to insert 
 them without alteration in some later portion of the ro- 
 mance. But I print them here precisely as they are writ- 
 ten. — L.] 
 
 FOR PAUSANIAS. 
 
 [Partially borrowed from Aristophanes's "Peace," v. 112T, etc] 
 
 Away, away, with the belm and greaves. 
 
 Away with the leeks and cheese !* 
 I have couquer'd my passion for wounds and blows. 
 And the worst that I wish to the worst of my foes 
 Is the glory and gain 
 Of a year's campaign 
 On a diet of leeks and cheese. 
 
 * Tvpoii n Kai Kpo/xfivuv. Cheese and onions, the rations fur- 
 nished to soldiers m campaign. 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 279 
 
 I love to drink by my own warm hearth, 
 Nourisht with logs fi-om the pine-clad heights, 
 
 Which were hewn in the blaze of the summer sun 
 To treasure his rays for the winter nights 
 
 On the hearth where my grandam spun. 
 
 I love to drink of the grape I press, 
 
 And to drink with a friend of yore ; 
 Quick ! bring me a bough from the myrtle-tree 
 
 Which is budding afresh by Meander's door. 
 Tell Nicander himself he must sup with me, 
 And along with the bough from his myrtle-tree 
 We will circle the lute, in a choral glee 
 
 To the goddess of corn and peace. 
 For Nicander and I were fast friends at school. 
 Here he comes ! We are boys once more. 
 
 When the grasshopper chants in the bells of thyme, 
 I love to watch if the Lemnian grape* 
 Is donning the purple that decks its prime ; 
 And, as I sit at my porch to see, 
 With my little one trying to scale my knee, 
 To join in the grasshopper's chant, and sing 
 To Apollo and Pan from the heart of Spring.t 
 Listen, O list ! 
 
 Hear ye not, neighbors, the voice of Peace? 
 " The swallow I hear in the household eaves.'' 
 
 lo ^gien ! Peace ! 
 "And the skylark at poise o'er the bended sheaves," 
 
 lo ^gien ! Peace ! 
 
 * It ripened earlier than the others. The words of the Cho. 
 ruB are, rag Arifiviae ijiviKovg d Treiraivovaiv ^Sij. 
 t Variation — 
 
 " What a blessing is life in a noon of Spring." 
 
280 PAUSANIAS, THE SPARTAN. 
 
 Here and there, everywhere, hear we Peace, 
 Hear her, and see her, and clasp her — Peace ! 
 The grasshopper chants in the bells of thyme, 
 And the halcyon is back to her nest in Greece ! 
 
 IN PKAISE OP THE ATHENIAN KNIGHTS. 
 [Imitated from the "Knights" of Aristophanes, v. 665, etc] 
 
 Chant the fame of the Knights, or in war or in peace, 
 Chant the darlings of Athens,* the bulwarks of Greece, 
 Pressing foremost to glory, on wave and on shore. 
 Where the steed has no footing they win with the oar.t 
 
 On their bosoms the battle splits, wasting its shock. 
 If they charge like the whirlwind, they stand like the rock. 
 Ha! they count not the numbers, they scan not the ground ; 
 When a foe comes in sight, on his lances they bound. 
 
 Fails a foot in its speed? heed it not. One and allt 
 Spurn the earth that they spring from, and own not a fall. 
 O the darlings of Athens, the bulwarks of Greece, 
 Wherefore envy the love-locks they perfume in peace ! 
 
 * Variation — 
 
 " The adorners of Athens, the bulwarks of Greece." 
 
 t Variation — 
 
 " Keenest racers to glory, on wave or on shore, 
 By the rush of the steed or the stroke of the oar !" 
 
 t Variation — 
 
 " Falls there one ? never help him 1 Our knights one and aU." 
 
PAUSANIAS, THE -SPARTAN. 281 
 
 Wherefore scowl if they fondle a ctuail or a dove, 
 Or inscribe on a myrtle the names that they love 1 
 Does Alcides not teach us how valor is mild ? 
 Lo, at rest from his labors he plays with a child. 
 
 When the slayer of Python has pnt down his bow, 
 By his lute and. his love-locks Apollo we know. 
 Fear'd, O rowers, those gallants their beauty to spoil 
 When they sat on your benches, and shared in your toil f 
 
 When with laughter they row'd to your cry "Hippopai," 
 " On, ye coursers of wood, for the palm wreath, away !" 
 Did those dainty youths ask you to store in your holds 
 Or a cask from their crypt or a lamb from their folds? 
 
 No, they cried, " We are here both to fight and to fast, 
 Place us first in the fight, at the board serve us last! 
 Wheresoever is peril, we knights lead the way. 
 Wheresoever is hardship, we claim it as pay. 
 
 Call us prond, O Athenians, we know it full well, 
 And we give you the life we're too haughty to sell." 
 Hail the stoutest in war, hail the mildest in peace. 
 Hail the darlings of Athens, the bulwarks of Greece I 
 
 24*