QJarncll HmucrBttg ffiihtary Jttiara. ^tta lark FROM THE BENNO LOEWY LIBRARY COLLECTED BY BENNO LOEWY 1854-1919 BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSITY DATE DUE AUR . j3 ^'-i^7 MAYl 195t Cornell University Library PQ 2011.T4E7 1889 Temple of Gnldus; 3 1924 027 361 546 T4E7^ In Two Volwnes, large 8vo, price 32s. niuBtrated with Seventeen Etchings by C. Couktry, GTrfwiEK, C. MAKiaADD, E. Salmon, &c., from designs by J. Chauvet, Choquet, and H. Gray; and with Thirty four Portraits engraved on Copper, alter the originals by Sir Peter Lely, f=^^ ^^=H-;- LIST OF PLATES. Charles de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu . Frontispiece. THE TEMPLE OF GNIDUS— PAGE Engraved Title. Canto I. — The Nuptials of Vulcan and Venus . . 25 Canto II. — The Oracle of Venus 35 Canto III. — Venus Bestowinb the Prize of Beauty . 38 Canto IV. — The Dream of Themira's Lover . . .44 Canto V. — Arist^us and Camilla 51 Canto VI. — The Cavern of Jealousy 56 Canto VII. — Themira and her Lover in the Wood . 62 CEPHISA AND CUPID— Cephisa Clipping Cupid's Pinions 67 Cupid in the Arms of Venus 6g ARSACES AND ISMENIA— Ardasira Threatening to Destroy Herself . . .70 Arsaces Soliciting the Spurious Princess ■ • • 95 The Death of the Tyrant Prince . ... 103 LErrEll TO ^ L^DT "BT W^Y OF T%EF^CE. ^ ' O Venus Regina Gnidi Paphique I "— Hwace ) HE author of The Persian Letters, that passionate lover of antiquity, was we are assured, ever ready to say like Pliny: "it is to Athens that you are bound ; respect the gods." To-day, Madam, we are about to repair to Gnidus, to a pretty temple of pink marble, with a rococo pediment covered with cupids — not a Parthenon corresponding with a temple of the Virgin, but an edifice of less haughty majesty and more entrancing aspect. And there is no need for me to parody Pliny and Montesquieu and murmur in your ear, " Respect the goddess," for I am aware that you are fully disposed to revere a divinity to whom your beauty renders perpetual homage. viii iSTre^^ TO tA L^'DY Picture the departure for Cythera, in a world where everything is exquisitely conventional. Here dancing upon the crystal waters appear the nacreous shells of Venus, which her white doves will presently conduct. The balmy and breezeless atmosphere is charged with subtle perfumes. With delicious harmony the nymphs and dryads mingle their voices in the depths of the woods, and far away in the blurred distance — the bluey land of dreams — one can espy the coquettish little altar, lighted by a soft ruby tinted sun, whither we are about to repair on pilgrimage. Quickly don that Watteau costume which becomes you so well, and those vair-trimmed shoes worthy of Cinderella. Skilfully place a few patches on your cheeks to ensure a languid glance or an ironical smile. Scatter a cloudlet of powder in your hair, that your black velvetty eyes may acquire a more voluptuous expression beneath the snowy hoar — so truly charming. Take, I pray you, that fantas- tical Chinese fan, and let us start. What ! you have not read the little Greek book I sent you ? " What times are ours," said the author, " when there are so many judges and critics and so few readers ? " Still, I will not scold you too severely for not having filled up this blank in your stock of erudition — indeed, how could I do so since to your charming negligence I owe the great happiness of serving as your guide to the book, the perusal of which you are about to begin — like the pretty delicate gourmet you are, with a taste for delightful trifles. I suspect that, like myself, you already know the celebrated President de Montesquieu by his works. The Spirit of the Laws, The Essay upon Taste, and the Familiar Letters f- however that may be, I cannot refrain fronj 'BY W^Y OF TI^SF^CS. ix placing before you this malicious literary pastel, forming part of the portrait-gallery of that querulous but witty monkey, the little Abb6 de Voisenon : — " Montesquieu is one of the men who have conferred the most honour upon France. He is not like those authors who incessantly revolve in the same circle and spend their lives in re-writing the same one book under twenty different titles. The Temple of Gnidus, The Persian Letters, The Decline of the Romans, and the Spirit of the Laws are all four of very different styles. The author appears in turn as the painter of the Graces, as a shrewd and amusing censor, as a philosophical historian, and as a learned legislator. He was elected a member of the French Academy for having written The Persian Letters, but on the condition that he would disavow them; and The Temple of Gnidus procured him the favours of beauty upon condition that he should keep his good fortune a secret. He was very fond of women, and extremely well acquainted with men, whom he consequently held in scant esteem. However, as he- was not unsociable, he con- sorted with them, being indeed of the opinion that we need the society of our fellow creatures. He was so fond a father that in all good faith he believed his son to be superior to himself. He was an affectionate and firm friend. His converse was diversified like his writings. He was gay and thoughtful in turn, an adept in argument, and at the same time a ready narrator. He was also extremely absent-minded. He started one day from Fon- tainebleau and sent his carriage on before him, purposing to follow it upon foot for an hour or so, in view of taking exercise. He thus went as far as Villejuif, fancying that he had gone no farther than Chailly. His book, the B 2 X LSTTS^ TO ^ LWVr Spirit of the Laws, has been translated into every language and will become a classical work in every country, despite the clamour of devotees and the criticisms of the Sorbonne, of Fr6ron, and even of M. Dupin. The Gazette Ecclisias- tique considered it necessary to censure this work severely out of Christian charity ; whereupon the President de Montesquieu made so bold as to reply by an apology which is a model of eloquence and delicate wit. When the Jansenist writer of the criticism in the Gazette found himself thus confounded, he declared that the President was an Atheist. M. de Montesquieu died, however, professing Christian sentiments, and saying that the morality of the New Testament was excellent and the finest gift that God could have made to man ! In spite of this, those who are expert in such matters assert that he is damned." Is not the Abb6's pen and ink sketch delicately executed ? One may especially commend the final shaft — " Those who are expert in such matters assert that he is damned." Voisenon himself — " that little handful of fleas," as the Marquis de Polignac called him — was very expert in regard to damnation. Did he not carry his dissolute behaviour into the hermitage of the Favarts, and the fiend alone knows how shrewd and cunning he then proved. But I must call your attention to a remark which I am bound to explain to you : — " The Temple of Gnidus," says Voisenon, " procured him the favours of beauty upon the condition that he should keep his good fortune a secret." This is, indeed, one of those bitterly ironical remarks — an example of the nescio quid acetum, which is to be found throughout the writings of the author of Sultan Misapouf. It leads me to relate to you without further preamble the "Sr IVUr OF TI^SFtACS. xi origin of this pretty Temple of Gnidus, which you are about to peruse so devoutly. Montesquieu, who penned the charming mot : " I am in love with friendship," was also the friend, indeed, the great friend, of love, and I can easily support this statement by quoting to you these various avowals which he has made in his works : " In my youth," he says, " I was sufficiently fortunate to attach myself to women who, to my belief, loved me ; as soon as I ceased to believe this I abruptly drew away from them." Farther on he writes : " I have been rather fond of saying soft things to women, and of rendering them those services which cost one so little." Again : " At the age of five-and-thirty I was still in love." Couple the foregoing declarations with this one : " I have been so foolish as to write books and to feel ashamed of them when I had written them " — and then you will in some wise have the synthesis of The Temple of Gnidus. I will not assert with serene assurance like Voisenon that this pretty poem in prose procured its author the favours of women ; I rather incline to the belief that it was a piece of good fortune of the kind that induced the President to erect this dainty little temple as an ex voto to the divinity of Paphos. Montesquieu was over four-and-thirty when he penned this Grecian booklet, which appears to have had a key, nowadays as difficult to find intact as that of The Dangerous Connections, lost no one knows where ; and this key would appear to have been formed of the following alloyage :— " President-a-Mortier " of the Bordeaux Parliament since the year 1716, already renowned for his wit and literary talents, Montesquieu towards 1723 was made xii LSTTS% TO tA LWDY welcome and much of both in Paris and at Court. He also had free access to Chantilly, and those were the palmy days of Chantilly, which the precieuses of the previous century had named Cyprus, at the period when the Duchess de Longueville was sighing in the arbours of Sylvia. But in Montesquieu's time there was less priciosite and more gallantry in this princely abode. Here the Marchioness de Prie reigned, and in the brilliant dissolute little Court around her a prominent place was held by Mademoiselle de Clermont, sister of the Duke de Bourbon, who became Minister to Louis XV. upon the death of the Regent. I might here weave a romance or some kind of fairy tale to interest you ; but this would be treating you like a child, or turning you into a dupe ; so I will content myself with simply chronicling the facts to allay your impatience, and keep this epistle within bounds. Mademoiselle de Clermont was about twenty-seven years of age at the time I speak of. Natier painted her at this period in all her nymph-like freshness, amid an allegorical scene in which Youth and Love were shown attentive to her service. Nothing can be more graceful and more provoking than her voluptuous face as it appears amid these surroundings borrowed from Grecian mythology. You are no doubt acquainted with this curious painting which has often been engraved ; it is perfect, and would have furnished a fitting frontispiece for The Temple of Gnidus, since she whom it represents inspired that dainty masterpiece. Mademoiselle de Clermont was not, however, one of those ideal vestals who kindle fires but to fan the flames, and never extinguish them. The example set her by her •Br JV^Y OF TlfSF^ce. xiii two brothers, the Duke de Bourbon and the Count de Clermont was in no wise calculated to ensure the practice of virtue. A friend of Madame de Prie, the wittiest but also the most cunning and most perverted of marchionesses, participating in every diversion, joining in the hunting parties during the day-time, and in the little orgies at night, elbowing the damsels of the opera, and listening to scandalous tales and anecdotes. Mademoiselle de Clermont had already tripped upon one occasion, falling into the arms of the Duke de Melun, who had subsequently died from an accident in the hunting field — July, 1722. This adventure alone would be of small importance, but the author of a Histoire de Montesquieu adds: "She ate a great deal, she drank more than was good for her, and she composed songs of so filthy a character that the king called her ' The Muse of the Dunghill ! ' " This is horrible ; and it must be supposedthat this dragon of vice could, when she chose, exercise great powers of fascination, since Montesquieu succumbed to her like the Duke de Melun had done. History has chronicled the fact that he was wont to kiss Mademoiselle de Clermont on the lips, and the rough drafts of three of his letters, published in recent times,^ show us that there was a thorough intrigue between them. The first of these letters is a declaration in passionate language ; another alludes to a tete-a-tete which was unfortunately interrupted by the arrival of a visitor ; and the third, which is of a fragmentary character, runs as follows : — " Your haughtiness does not intimidate me. Why should I not live under the sway of her whom I love ? I will comply with your orders in every respect. I am 1 Histoire de Montesquieu, by Louis Vian, Paris, 1875, pp. 76-77. xiv LSTTS\ TO ^ L^'DT sorry that your people do not start for Versailles and that I am condemned to live so near to you without seeing you. You wholly occupy my thoughts, you are both the worry of my mind and the delight of my heart. " Farewell, Madam, I should be happy if to-night — but it is of no avail for me to speak of my desires and my regret." Believe me, my dear Madam, Montesquieu's desires were ultimately satisfied, and if he afterwards retained any regret it was the regret one feels in stirring up the embers of a passion that has been requited but is so no longer. However, let us return to the little temple of which I have promised you the history, to the work which Madame du Deffant, imitating D'Alembert, caUed " The Apocalypse of Gallantry." The Count de Clermont and the Marchioness de Prie took part in a burlesque mythological /He given at the Chiteau of Bellebat in 1724. Voltaire, who contributed some verses on this occasion — verses set to music by the village priest of Courdemanche, " whose head was full of rhymes and melodies " — afterwards penned a narrative of this fete, couched in very obscene language, and boldly offered a copy of his work to Mademoiselle de Clermont. It was then that Montesquieu, in his indignation, erected The Temple of Gnidus to show the cynical Voltaire how an amorous subject should be treated, without offending against the laws of decency. The FHe of Bellebat had been sent to the Duke de Bourbon's sister ; and it was for her alone that the President composed this voluptuous prose poem of the Temple, the various scenes of which resemble so many paintings by Boucher and Lancret, executed with that delicacy of touch and displaying that freshness of ■Sr ^Ur OF T%SF^CS. xv colouring peculiar to the so-called " peintres des fetes galantes." This poem — between the lines of which one could easily read at the time of its publication — literally teems with allusions. Gnidus is Chantilly with its palace, its shady underwoods, its groves, its fountains, its cosy little corners where merry beauties disported themselves at blind man's buff, at hide-and-seek, at swinging to and fro — when not engaged in more naughty and dangerous pastimes. " There," says the writer, " the sacrifices are sighs and the offerings are tender hearts. Each lover addresses his vows to his mistress, and Venus receives them for her.'' In the goddess one seems to recognise the proud Marchioness de Prie — Cet esprit juste, gracieux, Solide dans le s^rieux Et charmant dans les bagatelles — that haughty favourite who would not survive her disgrace but died of despair, like a Cleopatra of the Regency, in the bitterness of exile. The name of Themira is but a transparent muslin mask set before Mademoiselle de Clermont's face ; and Montesquieu was intimately acquainted with the prototype of Aristaeus (President H6nault, so it is said), and indeed with the originals of all the characters whom he brings upon the scene. I will add nothing further else I might rob you of the pleasure which one derives from the unexpected ; and besides to my mind, nothing can be more agreeable than to muse in uncertainty upon the allusions of such a book as this. Your imagination has already fled to the land of dreams and I abandon it to its resources. It is more competent than all the Cuviers of history to unravel the details of this narrative of a passion long dead and buried. c xvi ieTTfifZ^ TO U L^'DY But lo ! here steps in the tiresome bibliographer, the historian of books, learned in the genealogies of multi- tudinous editions. Pray do not pout. I will exert myself to make the lesson as short and as free from pedantry as possible. I have no intention of emptying into your brain a whole cartload of editions of every size and style, or of compiling a list of the many piracies, squibs, and repetitions to which Montesquieu's little book gave rise. No, I will simply tell you what it is fitting you should not remain ignorant of. There shall be no learned symphony, merely a modest little overture before the rise of the curtain. The Temple of Gnidus was not intended for the press. It was but an argument ad mulierem, and Montesquieu, in penning it, displayed rather a lover's vanity than an author's care. But curiosity pokes its nose ever5rwhere, exerting itself in proportion to the amount of mystery and intrigue that it desires to unravel. Scarcely had Mademoiselle de Clermont received the manuscript of her admirer than numerous copies of it began to circulate in society, and in September, 1724, a publication called La Bibliothlque Frangaise, appearing at Amsterdam, published the full text, just referring to the author in the following paragraph : " This composition has been too well received by the public not to be included among those fugitive writings which are worthy of being preserved. We are assured that the style is that of the author who gave us The Persian Letters." The first separate edition of The Temple of Gnidus appeared anonymously in Paris in the early part of the following year. It was issued by Nicholas Simart, book- seller, and comprised eighty- two pages, i2mo. Besides 'BT Pr^r OF T%£F^CS. xvii writing a preface, which you will find further on, Montesquieu had slightly revised the text for this edition. It was just referred to by Matthieu Marais who wrote as follows in his journal, under date April lo, 1725 : " The Temple of Gnidus, a little semi-Grecian book, the allusions of which are full of transparent obscenity. It is printed with the King's approbation and privilege. It appeared during Holy Week and caused a scandal. It is attributed to President de Montesquieu of Bordeaux, author of The Persian Letters." It was very absurd and audacious on Marais' part to talk of the obscenity of a work in which the Graces alone reign supreme. Still the President would not acknowledge himself to be the architect of the little Temple, declaring that his time was otherwise employed, either in attending to his judicial functions or in writing serious works. Indeed, he had long been engaged upon his Spirit of the Laws, and was upon the point of publishing his Considera- tions upon the Greatness and Decline of the Romans. " With reference to the works that are attributed to me," he wrote to his friend Moncrif, " I am situated like La Fontaine- Martel was in regard to the ridiculous characteristics imputed to him. They are ascribed to me but I deny them." The deceitful fellow ! That monster, the Marquis de Sade, never more flatly denied the paternity of Justine, Meanwhile The Temple of Gnidus went through numerous editions and appeared at Paris, London, and Leyden with Montesquieu's name upon the title-page. The father, who, for fear of compromising himself, shrinks from acknowledging his illegitimate offspring, is exposed to see his child boldly assume his name upon attaining his majority. As it is in human life so it is with books. The c 2 xviii I£TTS% TO ^ LWDY President at last acknowledged himself conquered and even revised his preface, inserting in it the following tender declaration : " With regard to the fair sex to whom I am indebted for the few happy moments I have known in life, I trust with all my heart that this work will please it. I still adore the sex, and though it is no longer the object of my occupations it is that of my regrets." To complete these remarks I must quote the following passage concerning The Temple of Gnidus from D'Alem- bert's Elogium of Montesquieu. The great admirer of Mademoiselle de Lespinasse shows himself favourable to the tender lover of Mademoiselle de Clermont : " The Temple of Gnidus," he says, " followed soon after The Persian Letters. In the latter, Montesquieu had figured as Horace, Theophrastes, and Lucian, in this new effort he appeared as Ovid and Anacreon. He no longer purposed depicting the despotic love of the East but the delicacy and naivete of pastoral love, such as may exist in a heart which has not yet been corrupted by intercourse with mankind. Fearing, perhaps, that a picture of something so foreign to our customs might appear tame and monotonous the author has endeavoured to improve it by giving it a gay and animated setting. He conducts the reader to enchanted spots, which although they may be of little interest to the ardent lover are of a nature to flatter the imagination when the desires are satisfied. Carried away by his subject, the writer has employed that animated, figurative, poetical style, of which the romance of Telemachus furnished us with the first pattern. We do not know why certain censors of The Temple of Gnidus should have asserted that it needed to be written in verse. Poetical style, if by this term one understands — as should ■sr /if^r OF T^SFUCS. xix be the case — a style full of warmth and imagery, does not need the uniform cadence of versification to prove agreeable ; but if one merely understands by poetical style an abundance of useless epithets, cold, trivial descriptions of Cupid's wings and bow, versification, however rhythmical, will not impart any merit to such writing as this. Life and soul will ever be wanting in it. But whatever be the case in that respect. The Temple of Gnidus being a species of poem in prose, it is for our most celebrated writers in that department to decide what rank it should occupy : it is deserving of such judges ; and for our own part we believe that the pictures of this work would successfully sustain one of the greatest tests that can be applied to poetical descriptions — that of being conveyed to canvas. Moreover, what should be more especially remarked in The Temple of Gnidus is that Anacreon here shows himself both an observer and a philosopher." The fact that the book was " a poem in prose " became a positive charge against Montesquieu, whom Voltaire, author of The Temple of Taste, accused of treason against poetry. But this was trivial criticism. Montes- quieu did right to avoid the shoals and breakers which only presumptuous mediocrity dares to brave. It was he himself who wrote: " Poets are authors who make it their business to fetter common sense and who bury reason beneath ornaments, just as women were formerly entombed in a mass of finery and jewels." And indeed, if in that time of poetical insipidity anyone was more guilty than others of treason, it was not Montesquieu, but Colardeau who was destined to avenge him upon Voltaire. I am not quite sure whether some madman did not XX LSTTS'^ TO ^ L^A'DY. disguise Fenelon's Telemachus in alexandrines, but at all events I know right well that Colardeau, the author of The Trickery in Fashion, covered himself with ridicule by arraying the Temple of Gnidus in a carnival dress of paltry verses, worthy at the utmost of being cut up for insertion in the " demon-crackers " and other sweetmeats of the eighteenth century. I shall not speak to you of the edition you are about to examine — a counterpart of one of the most wonderful volumes of the last century — one of the rare works only found in the cabinets of wealthy bibliophilists. I perceive that I have neglected to tell you many things in the course of this hastily written letter, but I know that you willingly forgive the absent-minded, and besides I agree with the Prince de Ligne in thinking that women are too witty already and need the curb. So I will stop here, the better to restrain you — the shortest lessons are said to be the best. Now turn the page, for Montesquieu is awaiting you to do you the honours of his Temple. — Farewell, Themira, we must part ! Octave Uzanne. rR^3iJL^T0XS T1{EF^CE* FRENCH ambassador at the Sub- lime Porte, well-known by his taste for letters, purchased several Greek manuscripts and took them with him to France. Some of these manu- scripts having fallen into ray hands, I found among them the work of which I here offer a translation. Few Greek poets have reached us. Many of them perished in the destruction of the libraries, or through the negligence of the families which possessed them. From time to time we recover some fragments of these treasures. Certain writings have even been found in the tombs of their authors ; and, what amounts to the same, this work was found among the books of a Greek bishop. * This is Montesquieu's original preface, he desiring it to be supposed that the work was simply a translation from the Greek. xxii r%-AXSL^TOXS T1{SFUCS. This poem does not resemble any work of the kind that we possess, though the rules which the poetical authors found in nature are observed. The description of Gnidus contained in the first Canto is the more felicitous as it, so to say, gives birth to the poem. It is not an adornment of the subject, but part of the subject itself, thus being very different from those foreign and far-fetched descriptions which the Ancients so strongly blamed : — Purpureus late qui splendeat, unus et alter Assuitur pannus. The episodes of the second and third Cantos are also the outcome of the subject, and the poet has proceeded with so much art that the ornaments of his poem are also necessary parts thereof. There is as much art in the fourth and fifth Cantos. The poet having to show Aristaeus narrating his amours with Camilla does not allow the son of Autilochus to recount his adventures farther than his meeting with Themira, his object being to impart some variety to the narratives. The story of Aristaeus and Camilla is uncommon inasmuch as it is purely a story of sentiments. The crisis occurs in the sixth Canto, and the close is very ably brought about in the seventh by a mere glance from Themira. The poet does not enter into details upon the reconciliation of Aristaeus and Camilla, He just TIl^XSLtATOI^S T1{eF^Ce. xxiii mentions it, that the reader may know it has taken place, but he adds nothing further, wishing to avoid a defective uniformity. The purpose of the poem is to show that we owe our happiness to the sentiments of the heart, and not to the pleasures of the senses, and that no bliss is ever so complete that it may not be disturbed by misadventures. It should be remarked that the Cantos are not separated from one another in the Greek manuscript, which is very ancient. There is merely a note upon the margin at the beginning of each of them. Neither the name of the author nor the period at which he lived is known. All that one can say on this point is, that he was not prior to Sappho, since he mentions her in his work. There is reason, however, to believe that he lived prior to Terence, and that the latter has imitated a passage at the close of the second Canto ; for there is no proof that our author was a plagiarist, whereas Terence stole from the Greeks, to such an extent indeed, that in one of his comedies he combined two plays by Menander. I at first had the design of publishing the original side by side with the translation; but I have been advised to issue the Greek text in a separate edition with the learned notes, which an erudite scholar is preparing, and which will soon be ready for the light. As for my translation^ it is a faithful one. I considered D that such beauties as I did not find in my author were not beauties, and I selected the expressions which seemed to me to render his meaning most closely, even when these expressions were not of the best. I was encouraged to make this translation by the success which has attended that of Tasso. He who made the latter will not take it amiss if I venture upon the same course as himself. He has distinguished himself in such a manner that he has nothing whatever to fear, even from those whom he has invested with the greatest spirit of emulation. THE TEMTLE OF g:HJT>US. NIDUS is the favourite abode of Venus ; she prefers it to that of Paphos, or of Amathonta. She never descends from Olympus without visiting the Gnidians ; and she has so much accustomed that happy people to behold her, that they are no longer affected with the sacred horror which the presence of a deity inspires. Sometimes she conceals herself in a cloud, but the celestial odour which exhales from her locks, perfumed with ambrosia, betrays the goddess. The city stands in the midst of a country upon which heaven has poured forth its choicest blessings with a liberal hand : here D 2 26 rHS TSeMTLS OF g:>liI'DUS. reign the glories of eternal spring ; the bountiful earth anticipates every wish ; innumerable flocks feed on the plains ; the winds breathe only to convey the perfume of the flowers ; the birds sing with unceasing melody ; you would think that the woods were vocal ; the rivulets murmur through the valleys ; a genial warmth makes everything teem with life ; and pleasure is inhaled with every breeze. Near the city stands the palace of Venus. Vulcan himself laid its foundations, and reared it for his false spouse, when he wished to make her forget the cruel affront that he had offered her in the presence of all the gods. It is impossible for a mortal to describe the beauties of this palace : the Graces alone are equal to the task. Gold and azure, and rubies and diamonds shine in every corner — but I am painting its riches, not its beauties. The gardens seem the work of enchantment : Flora and Pomona have made them their peculiar care, and they are cultivated by the nymphs of these goddesses : the fruits grow under the hand that gather them, and flowers succeed the fruits. When Venus walks in these enchanted gardens, surrounded by her fair votaries, the young Gnidian women, you would think that, in their wanton sports, the delicate beauties of the delightful place would be entirely destroyed ; but, by some secret power, every injury is repaired in a moment. Venus takes pleasure in beholding the artless dances of the daughters of Gnidus ; her nymphs mingle among them ; the goddess herself takes part in their sports ; THE TS^K-TLS OF gX^l-DUS. 27 she lays aside the majesty of her divinity, seats herself in the midst of them, and views with delight the joy and innocence that reign in their hearts. A spacious meadow is discovered at a distance, quite enamelled with flowers ; these the shepherd comes to gather with his fair shepherdess ; but the flower that she gathers is always the most beautiful, and he fancies that Flora has made it on purpose for her. The river Cepheus waters this meadow, through which he makes a thousand meanders. He stays the flying shepherdesses, and forces them to give the tender kiss they have promised him. When the nymphs approach his banks, he stops ; he smooths the undulation of his waters: but when any one of them bathes, he becomes still more amorous, and his waves surround her ; sometimes he swells that he may the more perfectly embrace her ; he lifts her up, he flies, he bears her away. Her alarmed com- panions begin to weep ; but he supports her upon his bosom ; and charmed with so precious a burden, he carries her over his liquid plain, till at last, with sorrow at being obliged to quit her, he sets her down in safety on the shore, and relieves the anxiety of her weeping companions. Near this meadow there is a myrtle wood with a thousand winding pathways. Hither come the love-sick swains and the amorous shepherdesses, to relate the story of their pleasing pains. Love, who consoles them, leads them through paths that become more and more retired. At no great distance there is an ancient and sacred 28 THE TSiMTLS OF g:KiI'DUS. forest, into which the light of day can hardly penetrate. Oaks, that look as if they were immortal, hide their heads in the clouds. Here a religious awe takes possession of the mind. You would think this spot had been the dwelling-place of the gods before men came forth from the bosom of the earth. Upon issuing from the solemn obscurity of the wood, a little hill presents itself, on which stands the temple of Venus. The universe has nothing more sacred, nothing more venerable than this place. It was in this temple that the young Adonis first appeared before Venus. The sweet poison instantly darted into the heart of the goddess. " What ! " said she, " must I love a mortal ? Alas ! I feel that I adore him. — Let no more vows be paid to me at Gnidus ; no deity resides there but Adonis." It was to this place that she summoned the Loves, when, on the point of contending for the prize of beauty, she consulted them and the Graces. She was in doubt whether she should expose herself naked to the eyes of the Trojan shepherd : she hid her cestus in the tresses of her hair ; her nymphs sprinkled her with perfumes ; she mounted her car drawn by swans, and repaired to Phrygia. The shepherd was hesitating between Juno and Pallas when Venus appeared; he looked, his eyes wandered, they were dazzled, they became dim ; the golden apple dropped from his hand, and fell at the feet of the goddess : he would have spoken ; his confusion was decisive. It was to this temple also that the young Psyche came with her mother, when Cupid, who was fluttering about THS TS( IllUS. give me resolution enough to conceal for a time my love from my shepherd, in order to enhance the value of that soft confession which I mean to make to him." " Goddess of Cythera! " said a third, " I am pleased with solitude ; the sports of my companions no longer delight me. I am in love, perhaps. Ah ! If I love, it can be none but Daphnis." On holidays the girls and youths assemble to recite hymns in honour of Venus ; they sing her praise while they relate the story of their loves. Thus sang a young Gnidian, while he held his mistress by the hand : " Love ! when thou first beheldst Psyche, thou didst undoubtedly wound thyself with the same arrows that have now pierced my heart ; thy happiness was not different from mine, for thou didst feel the same flame that now glows in my bosom, and I rejoice in the same pleasures with which thou wast rewarded. " I have been a witness of everything I now describe. I went to Gnidus ; there I saw Themira, and I loved her : I saw her again, and I loved her still more. I will remain at Gnidus all my life with her : and I shall be the happiest of mortals. " We will go together to the temple, and never have truer lovers crossed its threshold. We will enter the palace of Venus, and I shall believe it to be the palace of Themira ; I will hasten to the meadow, and gather flowers which I will place on her bosom ; perhaps I may persuade her to enter the grove where so many winding paths cross and intermingle ; and when I have thus led her astray — but Love, who inspires me, forbids his mysteries to be revealed." I T Gnidus there is a sacred grotto which the nymphs inhabit, and where the goddess promulgates her oracles . There the earth does not roar under one's feet, nor does one's hair stand on end ; there is no priestess as at Delphi, where Apollo agitates the Pythia: Venus herself inclines her ear to the prayers of mortals, without making a jest of their hopes or scoffing at their fears. A coquette from the isle of Crete came once to Gnidus ; whenever she appeared, the Gnidian youths flocked around her : she smiled upon one, she whispered in the ear of another, she leaned on the arm of a third, and beckoned two others to follow her. She was handsome, and dressed with taste; the sound of her voice was as delusive as her eyes. Heavens ! what cruel alarms did she not raise in the hearts of the Gnidian beauties. She presented herself to the oracle with as much confidence as if she had been a goddess ; 36 THE TScMTLS OF g3>US. as if it beat time to music. The whole troop had their faces besmeared with wine lees. Pan next appeared with his flute, and the satyrs surrounded their king. Joy reigned in the midst of confusion ; and sport and raillery, the dance and the song, were mingled together in happy delirium ; the wine disposed the satyrs to mirth, and mirth again enticed them to wine. At length I saw Bacchus : he was seated in his car drawn by tigers, even as the Ganges, at the extremity of the universe, beheld him, when he appeared in his glory, spreading joy and victory on every hand. At his side was the beautiful Ariadne. Fair princess ! you were still lamenting the infidelity of the cruel Theseus, when the god took your crown and placed it in heaven. He wiped the tears from your eyes : ah ! if you had not ceased to weep, you would have rendered a god still more unhappy than yourself, who were but a mortal. " Love me," he said ; " Theseus has fled from you ; think of his love no more ; forget even his perfidy. I make you immortal, that I may love you for ever." I saw Bacchus descend from his car ; I saw Ariadne descend, and enter into the temple. " Amiable god ! " cried she, " let us remain in this charming place, and here let us sigh out our loves ; let us command that eternal joy shall abide in this happy climate. It is near this place that the queen of hearts has established her dominion ; let the god of joy reign beside her, and augment the felicity of a people already so highly favoured. " For myself, divihe Bacchus, I already feel my love increased : who would have thought that you could one rne tsiMtls of gs^i'ous. 6i day appear still more amiable in my eyes ? The im- mortals alone are capable of loving to excess, of loving still more and more : they alone obtain pleasures that exceed their hopes, and are more moderate in their desires than in their enjoyments. " You shall here be the object of my eternal passion. In heaven we are occupied with nothing but our glory, it is only upon earth and in these rural solitudes that true love is to be found : and whilst this troop gives way to its intemperate delight, my joy, my sighs, nay, my very tears shall incessantly tell you of my love." The god smiled on Ariadne, and led her to the sanctuary. Joy took possession of our hearts ; we felt a divine emotion : infected by the transports of Silenus and the Bacchantes, we each seized a thyrsus, and mingled in the dances and the concert. ^^^ 1 s VENTUALLY we quitted the place consecrated to Bacchus ; but we soon began to imagine that our miseries had only been suspended. It is true that we no longer felt the frenzy with which we had been agitated; but sadness and melan- choly had taken possession of our souls, and we were tortured with suspicions and inquietude. We imagined that the cruel goddesses in the gloomy cavern had inflicted this suffering upon us to give us a foretaste of the miseries to which we were destined. Sometimes we regretted the temple of Bacchus ; but soon we were attracted towards that of Gnidus : we wished to see Themira and Camilla, those powerful objects of our love and our jealousy. But we felt none of those sweet sensations which it is usual to feel when, after a long absence, and on the point of again seeing the beloved object, the soul ChiUtL VII. -TT-TT-: 'WA CfirKucn a--/ THE re^MTLS OF gj^I'DUS. 63 already experiences delight and enjoys a foretaste of all the happiness it has promised itself. " Perhaps," said Aristseus, " I shall find,the shepherd Lycas with Camilla; how do I know but that he is speaking to her at this moment ? ye gods ! the false one listens to him with pleasure ! " " It was said the other day," replied I, " that Thirsis, who was once so enamoured of Themira, was about to return to Gnidus. He loved her once ! undoubtedly he must love her still ; and I shall be forced to dispute a heart that I had fondly believed was wholly mine." " The other day Lycas sang in praise of my Camilla : fool that I was 1 I was charmed at hearing him praise her." " I remember that Thirsis brought some new-blown flowers to my Themira : unhappy mortal that I am ! she put them in her bosom ! ' They are a present from Thirsis,' said she. Ah ! I ought to have torn them away, and trampled them under my feet." " Not long ago, I went with Camilla to sacrifice two turtle doves to Venus, when suddenly they escaped from me, and flew away." " I had written my name and that of Themira on a tree ; I had carved on it the story of our loves ; I read that story again and again, and was never tired of reading it ; but one morning I found it all effaced." " Do not, Camilla, do not drive to despair an un- happy man who loves you ; love when it is outraged may produce all the effects of hatred." " The first Gnidian youth that dares to look at my Themira I will pursue even into the temple ; and I will I 64 THS TSaMTLS OF gj^I'DUS. punish him though he take refuge at the feet of Venus herself." Whilst we were thus venting our jealousy we arrived at the sacred grotto where the goddess pronounces her oracles. The people appeared like the waves of the agitated ocean. Some had just received, and others were hastening to receive an answer to their petitions. We entered with the crowd. I lost the happy Aristaeus ; he had already embraced his Camilla, whilst I was still in search of my Themira. At last I found her : I felt my jealousy redouble when I beheld her ; I felt my former frenzy rekindle ; but she looked at me, and I became calm : thus the Furies, when they have issued from hell, instantly fly back at the sight of a god. " heaven," cried she, " how many tears have you cost me ! three times has the sun performed his course ; I thought I had lost you for ever." These words made me tremble. " I came to consult the oracle ; I did not ask if you loved me, I only wished to know if you were alive : Venus has just given me an answer ; she has declared that your love is undiminished." " Excuse," said I, " an unfortunate man who might have hated you, had his soul been capable of it. The gods, in whose hands I am, may take from me the faculty of reason; but no god can prevent me from loving you. " I have been agitated by cruel jealousy as the guilty shades are tormented in Tartarus : but I derive this advantage from it, that I am more sensible of th§ THE TSeMJ'Le OF gS^Cl'DUS. 65 happiness of being loved by you, since the frightful situa- tion in which I found myself from the fear of losing you. " Come, then, Themira, come with me into the solitary woods, and let me expiate my crime by showing the ardour of my love ; for it was a great crime, Themira, to believe you false." Never were the woods of Elysium which the gods have planted for the tranquillity of the shades they love ; never were the forests of Dodona that discourse to mortals of their future felicity ; never were the gardens of the Hesperides where the trees bend to the earth under the weight of golden fruit ; never were any of these so delightful as that hallowed grove, made voluptuous by the presence of Themira ! I remember that a satyr who was pursuing a nymph, who fled from him all in tears, saw us and stopped. " Happy lovers ! " cried he, "your eyes understand and reply to each other ; your sighs are repaid with sighs ! whilst I waste my days in pursuing a coy nymph, unhappy whilst I pursue, and still more unhappy when I have overtaken her." A young nymph, wandering alone in the wood, also perceived us and sighed. "No," said she, "it is only to augment my distress that cruel Cupid has shown me so tender a lover." We found Apollo seated on the brink of a fountain. He was following Diana, whom a timid doe had seduced into the wood. I knew him by his golden hair and by the retinue of immortals that surrounded him. He tuned his lyre; it attracted the rocks; the trees ranged themselves around it, and the lions became I 2 66 rns reeMTLS of gsi^i'ous. motionless ; but we penetrated still farther into the forest, solicited in vain by this heavenly harmony. Where do you think I found the little god of love ? I found him on the lips of Themira ; I found him after- w^ards in her bosom : he took refuge at her feet, and I pursued him thither ; he hid himself amid the folds of her garments and I follovired him ; and I would have followed him still, had not Themira all in tears, Themira angry and alarmed, withheld me : the god had found a secure retreat, which proved so charming that he could not quit it. Thus the tender redbreast, whom fear and love retain upon her young, remains motionless under the eager hand that approaches, and cannot resolve to abandon them. Unhappy being that I am ! Themira heard my com- plaints, and was not touched with them. She heard my prayers, but continued inexorable ; at last I became rash, she grew angry; I trembled, and she seemed vexed; she thrust me away, I fell to the ground ; and I became sensible that my sighs would have been the last of my life had not Themira laid her hand upon my heart, and revived me. " No," said she, " I am not so cruel as you are; for I never desired to make you die, whereas you wish to drag me to the night of the grave. " Open those dying eyes, if you do not wish that mine should close for ever." She embraced me, and I received my pardon, but, alas, without the hope of becoming guilty ! I NE day as I was straying in the woods of Idalia with the young Cephisa, I stumbled upon Cupid, who lay sleeping on the flowers beneath a few branches of myrtle that gently yielded to the breath of the zephyrs. The little Smiles and Sports, that are ever in his train, had gone to frolic at a distance, and he was alone. I had him in my power ; his bow and his quiver were at his side ; and if I had chosen I might have stolen the arms of Cupid. Cephisa seized the bow of the greatest of the gods : she fixed in it an arrow, without my perceiving her, and shot it at me. I smiled, and said to her. " Take another, Cephisa, and give me another wound ; that is too gentle." She was preparing another arrow when it fell upon her foot, and she gave a slight cry ; it was the heaviest arrow in the quiver of love. She took it up, and let it fly at me : it struck me and I was conquered. 68 C^THIS^A ^:XfD CVTI'D. " Ah ! Cephisa ! are you resolved then on my death ! " She drew near to Cupid. " He sleeps soundly," said she ; "he is fatigued with shooting his arrows ; we must gather flowers and tie his hands and feet — " "Ah! I can never consent to that," said I, "for he has always favoured us." " I will take his weapons then," said she, " and shoot at him with all my strength. — " " But he will awake," said I. " Let him," she replied ; " what can he do but wound us still more ? " " No, no, let him lie there ; we will remain near him, and we shall feel our flame increase." Cephisa then took some roses and myrtle leaves : " I will cover him with these," said she ; "and the Smiles and the Sports will seek for him but will not find him." She strewed them over him, and she laughed to see the little god almost buried. " But why am I trifling ? " said she. " I must cut his wings, that there may no longer be any false and fickle men in the world ; for the little god flies from heart to heart, and plants levity and inconstancy everywhere." She sat down, she took out her scissors, and held with one hand the tips of Love's gilded pinions. I felt my heart shrink for fear. "Stop, Cephisa." She heard me not ; she cut off the tips of Cupid's wings, let fall her scissors, and ran away. When Cupid awoke he wished to fly, but felt a weight which was new to him : he saw the tips of his wings lying upon the flowers and began to weep. Jupiter, observing him from the summit of Olympus, sent a cloud which carried him to the palace of Gnidus, and laid him in the lap of Venus. " Mother," said he, " I used to flutter with my wings on your bosom ; but they have been cut, alas, and what will become of me ! " " My son," said the fair Cypris, " do not weep ; stay where you are, do not move from my bosom, its heat will make your pinions grow again ; do you not already see that they are longer ? — Kiss me ; — they grow ; you will soon have them as they were before ; — now I see the tips acquiring their golden colour again — in another instant — enough, fly, fly, my child." " Yes," said he, " I will venture." He flew ; he lighted at her side ; but instantly returned to her bosom. He resumed his flight, he settled at a greater distance, and again returned to the bosom of Venus. He embraced her, she smiled upon him : he embraced her again and toyed with her : at last he rose into the air, whence he now reigns over all nature. Cupid, to be revenged of Cephisa, has made her the most fickle of the fair. He makes her burn every day with a new flame. She loved me ; she loved Daphnis, and now she loves Cleon. Cruel Cupid ! it is I you punish. I am willing to suffer for her crime, but may you not have other torments to afflict me with ? ^^., Q^inja/^ ) f/r A //// //*-/// /ff^( }/7(f(jf t/fr/t /•, ////■(■ iim/f -gS ARSACES AND ISMENIA. oJ<«o ^EAR the close of the reign of Arta- menes, Bactra was harassed with civil broils. The king, overwhelmed with care, died, and left the throne to his daughter Ismenia. Aspar, chief of the royal eunuchs, had the principal management of affairs. He was anxious for the prosperity of the kingdom, but by no means for power. He knew mankind, and could judge with some certainty of events. He was naturally inclined to con- ciliatory measures ; indeed his heart seemed to cleave to the human race. Peace at length was unexpectedly established ; and, such was the influence of Aspar, that everyone returned to his duty almost without knowing that he had departed from it ; for without bustle or ostentation the minister was able to perform great things. The peace was disturbed by the King of Hircania, who sent ambassadors to demand Ismenia in marriage ; K 71 ^11S,A CSS .^ JCD is<:?iis:n^i^. and, upon being refused, marched into Bactra. His approach was singular. Sometimes he appeared armed at all points, and ready to encounter his enemies : sometimes he was seen habited like a lover whom Cupid is conducting to his mistress. He carried with him all that was necessary for a wedding ; such as dancers, musicians, players, cooks, eunuchs, and women ; and he also brought with him a formidable army. He wrote the most tender letters to the queen ; and he ravaged the whole country : one day was spent in feasting, the next in military expeditions. Never had such a perfect representation of war and peace been seen ; never so much dissipation, nor so much discipline : one village fled from the cruelty of the conqueror ; another was all joy, merriment, and riot: for, by a strange caprice, he strove to attain two things that are incompatible : he wished to be feared, and at the same time loved. But he was neither feared nor loved. An army was sent to oppose him, and a single battle finished the war. A soldier who had lately joined the Bactrian army performed prodigies of valour. He penetrated to the place where the King of Hircania was fighting bravely, and took him prisoner. He gave this prince in charge to an officer ; and without telling his name, fell back into the ranks, but he was followed by acclama- tions, and led in triumph to the general's tent. He appeared before the general with a noble boldness ; and spoke with modesty of his exploit. The general offered him rewards, but he appeared insensible to them ; honours would have been heaped upon him, but with these he seemed familiar, Aspar judged that such a man could not be of ordi- nary birth. He invited him to Court, and, when he saw him, he was still more confirmed in his opinion. His figure struck the eunuch with admiration ; even the melancholy that appeared on his countenance inspired him with respect. Aspar praised his valour, and said the most civil things to him. " Sir," responded the stranger, " forgive an unhappy man, if the dreadful state of his mind renders him almost incapable of feeling your kindness, or of making any return to it." Tears then rushed into his eyes, and the eunuch was moved. " Be my friend," said he, " if you are unfortunate. A few moments ago I admired you ; but now my ad- miration is changed into love. I wish to console you ; perhaps my counsel may not be useless to you. Accept of an apartment in my palace, its owner loves virtue, and you will not be a stranger there." The next day was a festival over all Bactra. The queen issued from her palace, followed by the whole Court. She appeared in her chariot in the midst of an immense multitude of people. A veil covered her face, but allowed the elegance of her shape to appear ; her countenance was concealed, but the affection of her people pictured it in imagination. She descended from her chariot and entered the temple. The nobles of Bactra surrounded her. She prostrated herself, and adored the gods in silence ; then raising her veil, she solemnly pronounced the following words : — K 2 74 ^\s^ces ^3^'D iscMb:kju. " Immortal gods ! the Queen of Bactra comes to thank you for the victory with which you have crowned her arms. Fill up the measure of your bounties, by granting that she may not abuse them. May she be neither the slave of passions, nor of weakness, nor caprice ; may all her fears be to commit evil, all her desires to do good : and, since she cannot be happy," continued she, in a voice interrupted by sobbing, " at least grant that her people may be so." The priests having finished the ceremonies prescribed for the worship of the gods, the queen left the temple, mounted her chariot, and was followed by the people to the gates of the palace. A little while after, Aspar went home, and enquiring for the stranger found him plunged in the deepest melancholy. He sat down beside him, and having ordered the attendants to withdraw, " I conjure you," said he, " to unbosom yourself to me. Do you think that a troubled heart finds no relief in imparting its sorrows to another ? We then seem to enjoy a state of more tranquillity." " It would be necessary," said the stranger, " to relate to you all the events of my life." " That is exactly what I wish," replied Aspar ; " you will speak to a man who is not devoid of sensibility : conceal nothing from him ; everything is of importance in the eyes of friendship." It was not merely sympathy and a sentiment of pity that excited the curiosity of Aspar ; he wished to attach this extraordinary man to the Court of Bactra and was eager to become thoroughly acquainted with a person whom in his thoughts he already associated in his schemes and destined to great affairs. The stranger meditated for a moment, and then began : — " Love brought about all the happiness and all the misery of my life. He strewed it at the outset with pleasures mingled with pains ; and in the end he has left it to tears, sorrow, and regret. " I was born in Media, and I can number along train of illustrious ancestors. My father gained many victories at the head of the Median armies. I lost him in my infancy, and those who had the care of my education taught me to consider his virtues as my most valuable inheritance. " At the age of fifteen they fixed my establishment. They did not allow me that prodigious number of wives with which in Media people of my birth are usually oppressed : they wished to follow nature, and to teach me that, if the wants of the senses are bounded, those of the heart are still more so. " Ardasira was not more distinguished from my other wives by her birth than by my love. Her pride was mingled with something so tender, her sentiments were so noble, so different from those which perpetual sub- mission dictates to the women of Asia, her beauty moreover was so great that my eyes could gaze on none but her, and my heart was a stranger to every other. " Her countenance was heavenly ; her shape, her air, her gracefulness, the sound of her voice, the charm of her discourse all conspired to enchant me. I longed 76 M%S^Ces ^OijD IStMS^HJ'A. to hear her speak for ever, and I was never tired of beholding her. To me there was nothing so perfect in nature as herself; my imagination could picture nothing which I did not find her possessed of; and, when I contemplated the happiness of which mortals are susceptible, I always thought of my own. " My birth, my wealth, my age, and some personal advantages, determined the king to offer me his daughter in marriage. It is an inviolable custom among the Medes that those who receive this honour must send all their other wives away. I saw nothing in this grand alliance but the loss of what was most dear to me in the world : but I was obliged to devour my tears, and to counterfeit gaiety. While all the Court congratulated me on a favour which is there coveted as the highest, Ardasira never asked to see me, and I both dreaded her presence and desired it. I entered her apartment overwhelmed with grief. ' Ardasira,' said I, ' I am about to lose you.' But without either caresses or reproaches, without lifting her eyes or dropping a tear, she remained silent. A deadly paleness overspread her lovely countenance, which expressed a sort of indignation mingled with despair. " I would have embraced her, but she seemed averse to it ; and she gave no other sign of emotion save an endeavour to escape from my arms. " It was not the fear of death that made me accept the hand of the princess ; and had I not trembled for Ardasira, I should undoubtedly have exposed myself to the most dreadful vengeance. But when I considered that her death would be the certain consequence of my refusal, my mind was distracted, and I abandoned myself to my fate. " I was conducted to the royal palace, which I was not again ■■ permitted to leave. I beheld that place, made for the humiliation of many and the gratification of one only ; that place where, notwithstanding its silence, the sighs of love are scarcely heard ; that place in which melancholy and magnificence hold their court ; where everything inanimate is gay, and everything that possesses life is sorrowful; where all move, and smilcj or are sad at the master's nod. " I was immediately introduced to the princess, who could survey me with freedom, whilst my looks were fixed on the ground. Strange effects of grandeur !• If her eyes were expressive, mine were not permitted to answer. Two eunuchs were in attendance, each armed with a poniard, that I might expiate with my blood the presumption of a look. • " How hard was the trial for a heart like mine ! to retire to my chamber a slave of the Court ; to live subject to caprice and proud disdain ; to feel nothing but a sentiment of awe, and to lose for ever what can compensate even for servitude, the pleasure of loving and being loved ! " But what was my situation when a eunuch from the princess came to make me sign an order for the removal of all my wives from my palace ! ' Sign,' said he, ' and acknowledge the benignity of this order. I will report to the princess your readiness to obey.' " My face was covered with tears ; I began to write, 78 ^H^S^ACeS US^'D ISiM^ES^IU. I hesitated — ' For Heaven's sake,' said I to the eunuch, ' have a moment's patience — I shall die.' " ' My lord,' said he, ' your head and mine are at stake; sign — we are already becoming guilty — the moments are counted; I should now be on my way back.' " My trembling or hasty hand (for my mind was unconscious of its proceedings) traced the most fatal characters it was in its power to form. " My wives were carried away on the eve of my marriage ; but Ardasira, who had gained over one of my eunuchs, dressed in her clothes and veil a slave of her own shape, and concealed herself in a secret place. She had made the eunuch believe that she meant to retire among the priestesses of the gods. "«Ardasira's spirit was too high to conceive that an edict, which without any reason deprived a lawful wife of her rank, could be made for her. She was incapable of respecting power that was abused. She appealed from this tyranny to nature, and from her impotence to her despair. " The marriage ceremony was performed in the palace. I carried the princess to my own house. There music, dancing, feasting, and everything around us, seemed to express a joy which my heart was far from feeling. " At the approach of night all the courtiers left us. The eunuchs conducted the princess to her apartment : alas ! it was the same in which I had so often sworn eternal fidelity to Ardasira. I retired to mine, full of rage and despair. " The moment fixed for my approach to the princess arrived. I entered a vault, unknown even to my servants, through which love had often led me. I was proceeding in the dark, alone, pensive and melan- choly, when on a sudden there appeared a light. Ardasira, with a dagger in her hand, stood before me. ' Arsaces,' said she, ' go and tell your new spouse that I am dead : tell her that I have disputed your heart to the last sigh.' " She was about to strike herself, when I withheld her hand. 'Ardasira,' I cried, 'what a terrible spectacle are you about to present to me ! ' Then extending my arms, ' Begin rather,' said I, ' by striking him who first yielded to a barbarous law.' " She turned pale, and the dagger dropped from her hands. I embraced her, and, I know not by what charm, my soul began to grow calm. I held this dear object in my arms, and gave myself up to the pleasure of loving. Every painful idea, even that of my marriage, was obliterated. I thought myself possessed of Ardasira never more to be separated. Strange effect of love ! my heart warmed, and my soul became tranquil. " The words of Ardasira recalled me to myself. 'Arsaces,' said she, 'let us fly, let us quit this un- fortunate place. What should we fear ? We can love, and we can die.' " ' Ardasira,' said I, ' I swear that you shall ever be mine ; mine, as if you had never been torn from these arms. I will never more leave you. I call the gods to witness that it is to you alone that I shall owe the happiness of my life. You have proposed a generous enterprise — Love had already suggested it to me - he L 8o ^%S^CSS ^3{JD ISi:MS:\I^. now again inspires me with it through you ; and you shall judge whether I really love you.' " I left her, and full of impatience and love, I went to give the necessary orders. The door of the princess's chamber was shut. I took with me what gold and jewels I had at hand. I bade my slaves take different roads, and departed alone with Ardasira in the dead of night ; full of hopes and full of fears ; sometimes losing my natural courage ; a prey to every passion, even to remorse, and not knowing whether I were following the path of duty, or that of love, which so often leads one astray. " I will not detain you with the particulars of the many dangers we encountered. Ardasira, in spite of the weakness of her sex, encouraged me ; and though almost dead with fatigue, she continued to follow me. I shunned the society of man, for all men had now become my enemies, and I sought the deserts. I at last arrived among some mountains where only lions and tigers dwell. The presence of these animals tranquillized me. " ' It is not in these inhospitable regions,' said I to Ardasira, ' that the eunuchs of the princess, or the guards of the King of Media, will seek us.' " But the wild beasts so thronged around us that I began to be alarmed. I killed with my arrows such of them as approached too near; for instead of encumbering myself with the necessaries of life, I had stored myself with weapons that might procure them. Harassed on all sides, I struck fire with flints, and kindled some dry wopd. I passed the night beside these fires, and made a noise with my weapons. Sometimes I set fire to the woods and drove the terrified animals before me. We at last entered a more open country, and admired the deep peace of nature. It suggested to our imagination the time when the gods were born ; when beauty first appeared, first felt the genial warmth of love, and when all things first sprung into life. " At length we passed the confines of Media. It was in the cottage of a shepherd that I fancied myself master of the world ; that I was at last able to say that Ardasira was mine, and that I was wholly hers. " We arrived in Margiana, where our slaves rejoined us. There we lived a pastoral life, far from the world and its bustle. Charmed with each other, we enjoyed our present pleasures, and reflected on our past pains. " Ardasira related to me what had been her feelings during the time of our separation ; her jealousy, when she believed I no longer loved her ; her grief, when she knew that I loved her still ; her execration of a barbarous law, and her resentment at my submitting to it. She had at first conceived the design of making the princess a victim of her revenge, but soon rejected the idea. She would have been happy in dying before my eyes, for she knew I should be greatly moved. When I held her in my arms, and she proposed to me to quit my native country, then, said she, she had felt sure of me. " Ardasira had never been so happy : she was en- chanted. We did not live amid the splendour of Media; but our manner of life was more delightful. Every thing we had lost enabled her to realise the great sacrifice I had made for her. She now wholly enjoyed L a §2 ^%^suces tAXfD is<:Me3i^iu. me. In seraglios, those destined abodes of pleasure, the idea of a rival is ever present ; and although a tender fair one may enjoy the society of the man she loves, yet, the stronger her affection, the more is it chequered with alarm. " But Ardasira now had no distrust ; our hearts were knit together. And surely a love like this impresses an air of gaiety on everything around ; when one object enchants us, all nature appears cheerful and engaging. A love like ours resembles that happy infancy to which everything affords novelty, playfulness, and pleasure. " I feel a gentle transport whilst I speak to you of that happy period. Sometimes I lost Ardasira in the woods, and found her again by the sweet accents of her voice. She decked herself with flowers which I gathered, and I adorned myself with those which had been culled by her hand. The song of the birds, the murmuring of the fountains, the music and the dancing of our young slaves, the softness impressed on every- thing around us, were continual testimonies of the happiness we enjoyed. " Sometimes Ardasira dressed herself like a shep- herdess, without ornaments or jewels, and appeared in the charms of native simplicity. At other times she presented herself richly adorned, and such as she had appeared when I was first captivated with her beauty in my Median harem. " Ardasira employed her women in delightful occu- pations. They spun the wool of Hircania, and stained it with the purple of Tyre. And unmingled joy glowed in every bosom. We descended with pleasure to the u^s^css uxfo iS:m:s\i^. 83 equality of nature : we ourselves were happy, and wished to make all around us happy. False pleasures make men haughty and severe, and such pleasures are always selfish. But true happiness inspires gentleness and benevolence, and diffuses its influence on every hand. " I remember that Ardasira married one of her favourite maids to a slave of mine whom I had freed. Love and youth had formed this union. The favourite said to Ardasira, ' This is also the first day of your marriage.' " ' Every day of my life,' replied she, ' will be that first day.' " You will no doubt be surprised that, exiled from Media and proscribed, having had but a moment to prepare for my departure, carrying with me only the money and jewels that were at hand, I should possess sufficient wealth in Margiana to build a palace there, to keep a great number of domestics, and enjoy all the conveniences of life. I was surprised at it myself, and am so still. By a fatality which I cannot explain I thought myself without resources, and yet found them ever)rwhere. Gold, and jewels, and precious stones, seemed to offer themselves to me spontaneously. It was chance or accident, you will say. But circum- stances so reiterated and so similar could hardly be the result of mere chance. Ardasira at first thought that I wished to surprise her, and that I had brought wealth with me of which she was ignorant. I believed, in my turn, that she likewise had* riches concealed from me. But we were both soon convinced of our mistake. In 84 ^'S^S^CSS ^JC2) IS(ju. feet, ' I conjure you by your glory to forget a man whose heart, being eternally devoted to another, can never be worthy of yours.' " I heard her heave a deep sigh, and I thought I saw her face covered with tears. I upbraided myself for my insensibility ; I wished something impossible — to continue faithful to my own passion without driving her to despair. " I was at last led back to my apartment, and a few days afterwards I received the following missive in a handwriting which was unknown to me : — " 'The princess's love is violent, but not tyrannical ; she will not even complain of your refusal, if you con- vince her that it is justifiable. Come then, and inform her of the reasons you have to be so faithful to that Ardasira.' " I was again conducted into her presence. I related to her the whole history of my life, and, whilst I spoke to her of my love, I heard her sigh. She held my hand in hers, and, during those affecting moments, she often pressed it with involuntary force. " ' Begin again,' suddenly said one of her women, ' at the part where you were so afflicted, when the King of Media gave you his daughter in marriage. Tell us again about your fears for Ardasira during your flight. Describe again to the princess what pleasures you enjoyed in your Margian solitude.' " I had not told her every circumstance. So I began again, and she listened as if she heard me for the first time. At last I concluded, and she looked as if she wished that I had been about to begin the narrative. " On the ensuing day, the following letter was sent to me : ' I am convinced of your Iqve, and do not desire that you should sacrifice it to me. But are you sure that this Ardasira still loves you ? Perhaps it is for an ungrateful woman that you refuse the heart of a princess who adores you.' " I returned this answer : ' Ardasira loves me with so much passion, that it would be vain to pray the gods to increase her love. Alas ! perhaps she has loved me too much. I remember a letter that she wrote to me some time after I had left her. Had you read the terrible, the tender expressions of her love, you would have been affected by them. I am afraid that, whilst I am confined here, her grief at having lost me, and her disgust with life, may have caused her to take a resolution of a nature to bring me to the grave.' " I received this reply : ' Be happy, Arsaces ; and may your heart remain with the woman you love ; as for myself, I only ask your friendship.' "The next day I was again admitted to the princess's apartment, where everything seemed calculated to awaken voluptuous desires ; the atmosphere was laden with the most delightful perfumes ; the princess was reclining languishingly upon a bed hung round with garlands of flowers. She held out her hand, and made me sit down beside her. Grace appeared in every- thing around and about her, even in the veil that concealed her features ! I could discern the elegance of her form through the close thin vestment she wore, which alternately hid and displayed the most ravishing beauties. She saw that my eyes were N g6 ^%S^CSi> ^SifD IS(MSDiI.A. engaged, and when she observed them grow some- what inflamed, she allowed her robe to fall slightly, and I beheld her shoulders which were of transcendant beauty. At that instant she pressed my hand ; whilst my eyes wandered over her lovely figure. ' None,' I exclaimed, ' but my dear Ardasira, can be so beautiful ; and I call the gods to witness that my fidelity — ' " At that moment she threw herself upon my neck, and locked me in her arms. The chamber was imme- diately darkened, her veil fell off, and she kissed me. I was enraptured. A sudden flame ran through all my veins, and fired all my senses. The idea of Ardasira was gone. A faint recollection — it appeared but as a dream — occurred to my mind as I was about — about to prefer her to herself. Eagerly did I press her to my throbbing heart. Her divine, her matchless beauty had fairly intoxicated me. Love, at that moment, made himself known but by his fury. He was hurrying on to victory; but Ardasira suddenly released herself from my embrace, several of her attendants entered the apartment, she hastily fled from me, and disappeared. " I returned to my apartments, astonished at my inconstancy. The next day the habit of my sex was restored to me, and in the evening I was conducted to her the idea of whom still continued to enchant me. I approached her, threw myself on my knees, and, transported with desire, talked to her of my passion, reproached myself for my refusals, prayed, promised, demanded, ventured to say and seemed about to attempt everything. But I found a curious change in her ; she ^v ryJiTj-! J.- '/my^ ,V^/^.^■/^J.V^.^V^ appeared quite cold ; and when she had sufficiently discouraged me, and had entertained herself with my embarrassment, she spoke to me, and thus it was that for the first time I heard her voice : ' Do you not desire,' said she, ' to see the face of her you love ? ' " The sound of her voice struck me, and I stood motionless. I hoped that it was Ardasira's, and 1 dreaded to find my hope realised. " ' Remove this veil,' said she. " I did so, and indeed beheld the countenance of Ardasira. I would have spoken, but could not. Love, surprise, joy, shame, every passion seized me in turn. " You are Ardasira ! ' said I. " ' Yes, perfidious man,' she answered, ' I am.' "'Ardasira,' said I, in broken accents, 'why thus trifle with an unhappy passion ? ' As I spoke I would have embraced her. " ' My lord,' said she, ' I am yours. But alas 1 I hoped to find you more faithful. Be satisfied with reigning here. Punish me, if you think proper, for what I have done — Ah ! Arsaces,' she added, with a tear, ' you did not deserve it.' " ' My beloved Ardasira,' I replied, ' why drive me to despair ? Would you have me insensible to charms that I have always adored ? You must allow that you are not very consistent with yourself. Was it not yourself that I was charmed with ? Are not these the beauties that have always enchanted me ? ' "'Ah!' said she, 'you would have loved them in another.' " • I could not have loved any other but you. What- N 2 98 ^%S^CSS ^^2) IScMS:?(IU. ever was not you, would have disgusted me. How disappointed I should have been if I had not seen that beautiful face, heard that sweet voice, or beheld those eyes? But for heaven's sake, do not drive me to despair. Consider, that of all the infidelities that I have been guilty of, this is undoubtedly the most pardonable.' " I perceived by the soft languor of her eyes that she was no longer angry ; I knew it also by the faintness of her voice. I held her in my arms. Oh ! the happi- ness of embracing the dear object of our love, after a long and tedious absence ! How shall I express the transports which only true lovers can feel, when our passion increases from itself; when we mutually promise, and demand, and obey, when we feel that we possess all, and yet think that we have not enough ; when the soul is lost in itself, and seems as though it would grasp at joys beyond the very powers of nature ! " Ardasira, recovering her self-possession, at last said to me : ' My dear Arsaces, my love for you has made me follow a very extraordinary course; but extreme love regards neither law nor moderation. They know it little who do not number its caprices among its greatest pleasures. In the name of the gods I conjure you never to leave me again. What can you want ? If you love me, you are happy. And you may be sure that no mortal was ever so much beloved as yourself. Say, promise, swear to me, that you will never more forsake me.' " I swore it a thousand and a thousand times ; my oaths were only interrupted by my caresses, and she believed them. "How rapturous is love even after the violence of its transports ; when, after having appealed to the senses, it addresses itself to the mind ; when, after having feasted upon beauty, it delights in contemplating the graces ! " We lived in Sogdiana in unspeakable felicity. I had remained but a few months at the Court of Mar- giana, and that short sojourn had cured me of ambition. I had enjoyed the favour of the king, but I had soon per- ceived that he could not forgive me for my courage and his terror. My presence there embarassed him, and it was indeed impossible that he could love me. His cour- tiers perceived it, and were on their guard not to over- rate my merit. In order that the honour of saving the state from danger might not be attributed to me, it was universally allowed at Court that the state had never been in danger. "Thus, equally disgusted with slavery and slaves, I cherished no other passion but my love for Ardasira ; and I thought myself a hundred times happier in remain- ing in the dependence of the woman I fondly loved, than in submitting to that of another whom I could but hate. " The good genie seemed to have followed us. We found ourselves in the enjoyment of the same abundance, and daily witnessed new prodigies. " A fisherman came to sell us a fish ; and a rich ring was brought to me which had been found in its mouth. One day, as I was in want of money, I sent a few jewels to be sold at the nearest town : the price of them 100 ^%StACSS ^:KJD IScMEJil^. was brought to me, and a few days afterwards I found the jewels themselves on my table. " ' Great gods ! ' cried I, 'is it then impossible for me to grow poor ? ' " We wished to try the genie, and we asked a very large sum of him. He soon made us acknowledge that our wishes had been unreasonable. A few days after- wards we found upon our table the smallest sum we had ever received. We could hardly refrain from laughing at the sight of it. " ' The genie sports with us,' said Ardasira. " ' Ah ! ' cried I, ' the gods are excellent dispensers ; the mediocrity they grant us is far preferable to the treasures which they deny us.' "We were not haunted by any of the malignant passions. Blind ambition, the thirst of wealth, the desire of dominion — all were strangers to us, and seemed the passions of another world. Such enjoy- ments are only made to fill the void that exists in souls which nature has left empty. They have been invented by imaginations incapable of conceiving better feelings. " I have told you that we were adored by the little family that formed our household. Ardasira and I loVed each other, and happiness is the natural effect of love. But that general affection which some people win from those around them is capable of inspiring even greater happiness than love itself can bring. A good heart cannot fail to experience exquisite delight upon being the object of general affection. How admirable is this law of nature 1 Man is never less selfish than when he appears to be most so. The heart is never the heart ^lljS^CSS ^Si1> IStMSIK^I^. 101 but when it diffuses itself, for its pleasures come from without. Hence it is that those ideas of grandeur, which always contract the heart, deceive such as are intoxicated with them ; hence their astonishment at finding themselves unhappy in the enjoyment of posses- sions with which they had promised themselves felicity. Not finding it, they think that they have not attained to a sufficient degree of wealth or greatness ; and there- fore they pursue their ambitious course still further. If they do not succeed, their misery is increased, and even if they do, they still fail to attain complete happiness. " It is pride which, by taking possession of us, prevents us from remaining in possession of our own minds : and which, by making all our desires centre in ourselves, never fails to bring melancholy in its train. This melancholy proceeds from the loneliness of the heart, which is made for enjoyment, but under these circumstances never feels it, and for benevolence, but when thus situated is ever selfish. " Thus we might have tasted those pleasures which nature never fails to bestow on those who do not shun her ; we might have spent our days in joy, in innocence, and peace ; we might have counted our years by the renewal of the flowers and of the fruits ; we might have forgotten the number of them in the rapidity of a happy life ; I might have seen Ardasira every day, and every day have told her how I loved her; the same earth might at last have received us both. But alas ! my happiness vanished in an instant, and I experienced, the most dreadful reverse. " The prince of the country was a tyrant capable of 102 ^%S^CSS ^3<,'D ISA%SUCSS ^^ifD IS(JD ISi^MS^I^. " He was a gardener, and, trembling with fear, he led me to a gate which he opened ; I made him. shut it behind us, and ordered him to follow me. I changed my clothes, and assumed the habit of a slave. We wandered in the woods, and by an unhoped-for chance, when we were overcome with fatigue, we found a merchant whose camels were feeding, and we compelled him to conduct us out of this fatal country. " In proportion as the dangers to which I was exposed diminished, my mind became less at ease. I had to find Ardasira, and I was all alarm for her safety. Her women and eunuchs had concealed from her the horror of our situation ; but not finding me with her, she had concluded me guilty; and was convinced that I had broken the innumerable oaths of fidelity I had sworn to her. She could not conceive a reason for my apparent barbarity in ordering her to be carried away without informing her of my intentions. Love is easily convinced of what it dreads and thus life became in- supportable to her : she swallowed poison. However, it did not operate quickly, and when I arrived I found her alive though very weak. " ' Ardasira,' cried I, ' must I lose you ? you are dying. Cruel Ardasira ! alas, what have I done ? ' " She shed a few tears. ' Arsaces,' said she, ' but a moment ago death appeared delightful to me ; now, however, that I see you, how dreadful is its approach ! I feel that I wish to live again for you, and that my soul departs unwillingly. Cherish my memory, and if I learn that it is dear to you, rest assured that I shall not be tormented in the shades below. I have this ^•^S^CSS tA:KJD IS':MS\I^. 105 consolation at least, my dear Arsaces, that I die in your arms.' " She expired. It is impossible to conceive how it was that I did not die with her. I was torn from her body, and I thought they were tearing me from myself. I fixed my eyes upon her, and remained motionless and insensible. On beholding the melancholy spectacle presented to my sight, I felt my mind regain all its sensibility. But I was dragged away. As I turned my eyes towards the fatal object of my grief, I would have given a thousand lives for another look. I became frantic, I seized my sword, and was about to plunge it into my bosom, but was prevented. I left that fatal palace and never returned there. My reason forsook me ; I roamed through the woods, and filled the air with my lamentations. When I became more composed my soul turned irresistibly to my grief. There now seemed nothing in the world for me but sorrow, and the name of Ardasira. That name I uttered in a frantic voice, and then became silent. I resolved to take away my own life, and suddenly grew furious. " 'You would die,' said I to myself, 'whilst Ardasira is unrevenged ! You would die, and the son of the tyrant is in Hyrcania, wallowing in pleasure ! He lives and you would die ! ' "I set out in quest of him. I understood that he had declared war against you, and I flew to join you. I arrived three days before the battle, and performed the action you know of. I might have killed the tyrant's son ; but I chose rather to make him my prisoner. I wish that he may drag out in shame and in chains, a 2 io6 ^'\s^css iJ.:KJD iStMeJiiu. life as miserable as mine. I hope he will one day learn that I have cut off the last of his race. I must own, however, that, since I have taken this revenge, I do not find myself any the happier, and I begin to perceive that the hope of vengeance is more grateful than vengeance itself. My fury that I have satisfied, the action which you witnessed, the acclamations of the people, even your friendship, my lord, do not restore to me that which I have lost." The surprise of Aspar had begun almost with the narrative to which he had been listening. The moment he had heard the name of Arsaces he had recognised the husband of the queen. Reasons of state had obliged him to send Ismenia, the younger daughter of the late king, into Media, where he had had her educated in secret, under the name of Ardasira. He had married her to Arsaces, he had always retained confidential servants in their harem ; and he was the genie who, by the intervention of these servants, had conveyed so much wealth into Arsaces' abode, and who, by very simple means, had given rise to their belief in so many miracles. Aspar had had very powerful reasons for concealing Ardasira's parentage from her husband. Arsaces, who was so brave, might have asserted the rights of his wife to the throne of Bactra, and have involved the kingdom in war. But these reasons no longer existed, and as he listened to the story of Arsaces, he was over and over again upon the point of interrupting him. However, he considered that it was not yet time to inform him of his destiny. A minister, accustomed to ^%SUCSS US^T) IS:MS3^I^. 107 weigh his thoughts, never steps beyond the line of prudence ; and the thoughts of Aspar were employed in preparing, not in precipitating, a great event. Two days afterwards a report was circulated that the eunuch had placed a false Ismenia on the throne. From murmuring, the people proceeded to sedition. They surrounded the palace, and loudly demanded the head of Aspar. The eunuch commanded one of the gates to be opened ; and mounted on an elephant, he advanced into the crowd. " Bactrians," said he, " favour me with your attention." And as they still continued to murmur : " Hear me, I say," cried he ; " if you can kill me now, you can equally well take my life a few moments hence. Here is a paper written and sealed by the hand of the late king ; prostrate yourselves, and worship, I will read it." These were its contents : " Heaven has bestowed upon me two daughters, who resemble each other so strongly that all eyes might be deceived. I am afraid that this may give occasion to great troubles and to still more fatal wars. Do you, then, Aspar, the light of the empire, take the younger of the two, send her secretly into Media, and there let her be taken care of. Let her remain there under a feigned name so long as the good of the state shall require it." Aspar laid this writing on his head, bowed, and resumed his speech : " Ismenia is dead ; you cannot doubt it ; but her sister, the young Ismenia, sits upon the throne. Is it just on your part to complain because, seeing the death of the queen approaching, I caused her io8 ^%S^CSS U:HJD ISeMSSi,!^. sister to be brought here from the heart of Asia ? Can you reproach me for having had the happiness of restoring her to you, and of placing her on a throne which, since the death of her sister, has been hers by right ? If I concealed the death of the queen, did not the state of affairs require it ? Do you blame me for having performed an act of fidelity, with circumspection and discretion ? Lay down your arms, I command you. So far you are not criminals; but from this moment, should you persist, you would become so." Aspar then explained to them how he had entrusted the young Ismenia to two aged eunuchs, who had transported her to Media under a feigned name ; how he had effected her marriage with one of the greatest* lords of that kingdom, and had caused her to be watched over in all the countries to which her fate had led her ; how the illness of the queen had determined him to cause the younger Ismenia to be brought to Bactra and kept secretly in the seraglio ; and how, after the death of the queen, he had placed her sister on the throne. As the waves of the agitated ocean are stilled by the zephyrs, so the people grew calm at the words of Aspar. Nothing was heard but acclamations of delight, and all the temples resounded with the name of the young Ismenia. Aspar incited Ismenia that she might have the curiosity to see the stranger who had rendered such signal service to Bactra ; he persuaded her to give him a brilliant audience. It was resolved that the nobles and the people should be assembled, that he should be ^I^S^CSS U3ifD ISiMSS^ilU. 109 declared general of the armies of the state, and that the queen should gird him with the sword. The grandees of the kingdom were ranged around a great hall, and a crowd of the people occupied the centre and the entrance. The queen was seated on her throne in magnificent apparel. Her head was crowned with jewels, and according to the custom at those solemnities, her face was unveiled, and the people beheld the countenance of beauty itself. Arsaces appeared, and acclamations resounded. After a moment's silence, with his eyes cast on the ground out of respect, he began to address the queen : — " Madam," said he, in a low and broken voice, " if anything could restore tranquillity to my soul, and give me comfort under afflictions — " But the queen did not suffer him to proceed any further; she had thought at first that she recollected his face and she instantly knew his voice. It was that of Arsaces. Transported with joy, and hardly knowing what she did, she sprang from her throne, and threw herself at his feet. " My afflictions have been greater than yours," cried she, " my dear Arsaces. Alas ! I thought that I should never see you more, after the fatal moment that separated us. My grief has been extreme." Then as though she had passed all at once from one expression of love to another, or as if she was uncertain with regard to the propriety of the impetuous emotion she had just shown, she suddenly arose, and a modest blush overspread her face. " Bactrians," said she, " it is at the feet of my husband that you have seen me fall. I am happy that I have had it in my power to display the sincerity of my love before you. I descended from my throne because I sat on it without him ; and without him, I call the gods to witness it, I will not return thither. I have the pleasure of knowing that the most brilliant action of my reign has been performed by him, and that it was for me that he performed it. Nobles, people, citizens, do you think that he who reigns over me is worthy of reigning over you ? Do you approve of my choice ? Do you elect Arsaces king ? Say, speak." The last words of the queen were hardly pronounced, when the whole palace resounded with acclamations ; and nothing was heard but the names of Arsaces and Ismenia. During all this time, Arsaces seemed lost in amaze- ment. He would have spoken but could not find the power of utterance ; he would have advanced, but remained without motion. His senses were fascinated ; he did not see the queen ; he did not see the crowd ; he scarcely heard their reiterated acclamations. Joy had so deranged his faculties that he seemed insensible even of his felicity. But when Aspar had dismissed the people, Arsaces bowed his head over the queen's hand. " Ardasira, you live ; you live, my beloved Ardasira ! I have been dying of grief ever since I lost you. How have the gods restored you to life ? " He was then hastily informed that one of her women had substituted an intoxicating liquor for the poison; that Ardasira had remained for three days without giving W^^SUCSS iAJiJD IS<:MS3iIU. iii any sign of motion ; that when she was restored to life the first word she uttered was the name of Arsaces ; that her eyes had opened only to behold him ; that she had caused him to be sought for everywhere, and had sought for him anxiously herself; that Aspar had caused her to be brought to Bactra, and, after the death of her sister, had placed her upon the throne. Aspar had prepared the interview between Arsaces and Ismenia. But he recollected the last sedition. He imagined that, after having taken upon himself to place Ismenia on the throne, it would not be proper for him to seem instrumental in the elevation of Arsaces. It was a maxim with him never to do in person what he could instigate others to do for him, and to love good from whatever quarter it came. Besides, knowing the perfections of character possessed by both Arsaces and Ismenia, he wished to make these perfections appear conspicuously. He wished to obtain for the queen and her husband that respect which great souls always challenge, whenever they have an opportunity of making themselves known. He wished to procure for them that love which is always bestowed on those who have experienced great misfortunes. He wished to call forth that admiration which ever attends those who are capable of feeling the amiable passions. In short, he thought that nothing but the course he followed was more likely to divest Arsaces of the quality of stranger, and to win him that of Bactrian, in the hearts of all the people of Bactra. The happiness which Arsaces enjoyed appeared inconceivable to him. Ardasira, whom he had thought 112 WI!^S^CSS ^X.'D I&:MS3^IU. dead, was restored to him ; Ardasira was Ismenia ; Ardasira was Queen of Bactra, and had made him king. The transition was natural from the sentiment of great- ness to that of love. He was charmed with the crown which, far from being a mark of independence, inces- santly reminded him that it was hers; he loved the throne, because he possessed the hand that had led him to it. Ismenia enjoyed for the first time the pleasure of perceiving that she was a great queen. Her prosperity had been great before the arrival of Arsaces, but her heart had been incapable of enjoying it ; in the midst of her court she had found herself alone ; millions of men were at her feet, and yet she thought herself abandoned. Arsaces immediately ordered the Prince of Hyrcania to be brought before him. " Now," said he, " I have ordered you to appear in my presence that the chains may drop from your hands. It is not seemly that there should be a single unhappy being in the empire of the happiest of men. Although I have conquered you, I am persuaded that you do not yield to me in courage, but I beg that you will consent to yield to me in generosity." The queen's disposition was all sweetness and gentle- ness ; such pride as was natural to her, disappearing on all proper occasions : — " Pardon me," said she to the Prince of Hyrcania, " if I did not make the wished-for return to a passion which I knew could not be lawfully gratified. Arsaces' wife could not be yours ; if you are disposed to complain, you must complain only of fate. If Hyrcania and Bactra do not form one empire, they ^%StACSS tA3ifD ISsMSS^^l^. 113 are, however, states destined by nature to be allies. Ismenia can make offer of friendship, though she could not promise love." "I am," replied the prince, "overwhelmed with so many misfortunes, and overcome with so many favours, that I know not whether I am an instance of good or evil fortune. I took up arms against you to revenge an affront which you had not offered me. You had com- mitted no fault, and I had performed no meritorious service to induce heaven to favour my enterprise. I will return to Hyrcania, and there I shall soon forget my misfortunes; if I do not number among them the misfortune of having seen you, and that of seeing you no more. Your beauty will be celebrated in all the East. It will render this age in which you live more illustrious than any other ; and in future times, the names of Arsaces and Ismenia will be the most favourite titles of lovers and their mistresses." Sometime afterwards an unforeseen circumstance re- quired the presence of Arsaces in a certain province of the empire : he quitted Ismenia. How tender was her farewell ! how delicious were their tears ! It was not so much a subject of affliction as an occasion of soft sensations. The grief of parting was cheered by the thoughts of the pleasure which they would experience in meeting again. During the absence of the king everything was so disposed by his orders, that the time, the place, the persons, indeed every circumstance presented t6 Ismenia some token of his remembrance. He was at a distance, but his actions spoke him present ; all things conspired p 2 114 .^'^s^css ^3^1) is(^i^. to recall his image ! Ismenia saw him not, but on every hand she beheld some proof of his love. Arsaces wrote continually to Ismenia. In one letter she read : " I have seen the magnificent cities that lead to your frontiers ; I have seen innumerable people fall prostrate at my feet. Everything told me that. I reigned in Bactra ; but I saw not her who had made me king, and I felt king no longer." In another letter he said : " If heaven granted me the draught of immortality so eagerly sought for in the East, you should drink in the same cup as myself, or it should not touch my lips : you should be immortal with me, or I should die with you." In another : " I have given your name to the city I have built ; I am convinced that it will be inhabited by the happiest of your subjects." In another letter, after saying everything tender and affectionate which love could dictate respecting the charms of the queen's person, he added : " I say these things to you without seeking to flatter you. I wish to relieve the tediousness of my absence ; and I feel that my soul is gratified by talking of you even to yourself." At last she received the following letter : " I used to count the days ; I now only count the minutes, and these minutes are longer than the days. Fair queen ! my soul becomes less and less tranquil the nearer I approach you." After the return of Arsaces, embassies arrived from every quarter, and some of them were of a singular nature. Arsaces sat on a throne erected in the court of the palace. The ambassador of Parthia entered first : U\S>ACSS ^3