"The loss of my father," replied Chariclea, "would be a heavy blow; but let even your interpretation be the true one, rather mine. I consent to pass for a false prophet!"—"Be it so," replied Cnemon; "but we are indeed dreaming, while we are examining fancies and visions, and forget to apply ourselves to our real business, especially while the absence of the Egyptian (meaning Thermuthis), who is employed in lamenting his deceased love, gives us an opportunity."—"Ο Cnemon," said Theagenes, "since some god has joined you to us, and made you a partaker in our calamities, do you advise us what to do, for you are acquainted with the country and language; and we, oppressed with a greater weight of misfortunes, are less fit for counsel."
"Which of us has the greater load of misfortunes to struggle with, is by no means clear," said Cnemon. "I have my full share of them; but, however, as I am the elder, and you command me to speak, I will obey you. The island where we are, you see, is desolate, and contains none but ourselves. Of gold, silver, and precious garments, plundered from you and others, and heaped together by the pirates, there is plenty; but of food and other necessaries, it is totally destitute. If we stay here, we are in danger of perishing by famine, or of being destroyed by some of the invaders, or by the buccaneers, if, knowing of the treasures which are left here, they return again in search of them. There will then be no escape; either we shall perish, or be exposed to their violence and insults. They are always a faithless race, and will now be more disorderly and dreadful, having lost their chief. We must fly, therefore, from this place, as from a snare and a prison, sending Thermuthis away first, if we can, under pretext of inquiring after Thyamis, for we shall be more at liberty to consult and act by ourselves. It is prudent, too, to remove from us a man of an unconstant temper, of savage manners, and who, besides, suspects us on account of the death of Thisbe, and probably only waits for an opportunity to commit some violence against us."
The advice of Cnemon was approved of; and they determined to follow it; and moving towards the mouth of the cave, the day now beginning to dawn, they roused Thermuthis, who was still sunk in sleep; and telling him as much as they thought proper of their design, easily persuaded a fickle-minded man. They then took the body of Thisbe, drew it into a hollow of the rock, covered it as well as they could with ashes from the tents, and performed what funeral rites the time and place would admit of, supplying what was deficient by tears and lamentations.
They next proceeded to send out Thermuthis on the expedition they had projected for him. He set out, but soon returned, declaring he would not go alone, nor expose himself to the danger of so perilous a search, unless Cnemon would bear him company. Theagenes, observing that this proposal was by no means agreeable to Cnemon, who betrayed evident marks of fear and apprehension when informed of it, said to him, "You are valiant in council, Cnemon, but a laggard in action; you have shown this more than once; pluck up your spirits, and prove yourself a man. It is necessary that this fellow should have no suspicion, at present, of our design to leave him. Seem to agree, therefore, to what he proposes, and go with him at first; for there is no danger to be apprehended from an unarmed man, especially by you who are armed. You may take your opportunity, and leave him privately, and come to us at some place which we shall fix upon; and we will, if you please, mention some neighbouring town, if you know any, where the inhabitants are a little civilized."
Cnemon agreed to this, and named Chemmis, a rich and populous place, situated on a rising ground on the banks of the Nile, by way of defence against the incursions of the pirates, about one hundred furlongs distant from the lake directly south. "I fear," said Theagenes, "that Chariclea will find some difficulty in getting thither, as she is unused to walking; however, we will attempt it, and pretend that we are beggars who seek our living by showing juggling tricks."
"Truly," said Cnemon, "your faces are sufficiently disfigured for such a business, particularly Chariclea's, who has just lost an eye; after all, though, I fear you will rather appear guests for the table than petitioners for scraps at the door."[8]—This sally was received with a forced and languid smile, which played only on the lips. They then prepared to depart, swearing never to desert each other, and calling the gods to witness it.
Cnemon and Thermuthis set out early in the morning; and, crossing the lake, took their way through a thick and difficult wood. Thermuthis went first, at the persuasion of Cnemon, on the pretext that, as he was acquainted with the country, he was better qualified to lead; in reality, that the other might more easily find an opportunity of deserting him. They met with some flocks in their way; and the shepherds fled, at their approach, into the thickest of the wood. They seized a ram, roasted him at a fire the shepherds had lighted, and hardly staying till it was sufficiently dressed, devoured the flesh with eagerness. Hunger pressed them; they fell upon it like wolves; swallowed whole pieces, just warmed through, and still dropping with blood. When they had satisfied their hunger, and allayed their thirst with milk, they pursued their way. Evening now approached, and they were ascending a hill under which was situated a town, where Thermuthis said it was very probable that Thyamis was either detained a captive or had been slain. Here Cnemon pretended that he felt great pain; that his stomach was exceedingly disordered by his inordinate repast of meat and drink, and that he must retire to ease it. This he did two or three times, that his companion might suspect nothing, and complained that it was with great difficulty he could follow him. When he had accustomed the Egyptian to his staying behind, he took an opportunity at last to let him go on forwards farther than usual; and then, turning suddenly back, he ran down the hill as fast as he could into the thickest part of the bushes. Thermuthis, when he had arrived at the summit, sat himself down on a rock, expecting the approach of night, which they had agreed to wait for before they entered into the town to inquire after Thyamis. He looked about for his companion, having no good designs against him, for he was still persuaded that he had slain Thisbe, and was considering how he might serve him in the same manner; proposing afterwards to attack Theagenes. But when Cnemon appeared nowhere, and night advanced, he fell asleep—a deadly[9] and last sleep it proved to him, for an asp, which had lain concealed in a thicket, bit him, and put a fitting end to his life.
But Cnemon, after he had left Thermuthis, stopped not in his flight till the darkness of the night obliged him to make a halt. He then endeavoured to conceal himself by lying down and covering himself as well as he could with leaves. Here he passed a restless and almost sleepless night, taking every noise, every gust of wind, and motion of a leaf, for Thermuthis. If at any time he dropped into a slumber, he thought he was fleeing;[10] and looking behind, imagined he saw him pursuing, who was now unable to follow him; till at last he resisted all approaches of sleep, his dreams becoming more dreadful to him than even his waking apprehensions.
He was uneasy at the duration of the night, which appeared to him the longest he had ever spent. At length, to his great joy, day appeared. He[11] then proceeded to cut his hair short, which he had suffered to grow, in imitation of, and to recommend himself to, his piratical companions, for the pirates, willing to render themselves as formidable as they can, among other things, cherish long hair, which they suffer to grow down their foreheads, and play over their shoulders, well knowing that flowing locks, as they make the lover more amiable, so they render the warrior more terrible. When Cnemon, therefore, had shaped his hair into the common form, he proceeded to Chemmis, where he had appointed to meet Theagenes. As he drew near the Nile, and was preparing to pass over it to Chemmis, he perceived an old man wandering upon its banks, walking several times up and down the stream, as if he were communicating his cares to the river. His locks were as white as snow, and shaped like those of a priest; his beard flowing and venerable; his habit Grecian. Cnemon stopped a little; but when the old man passed by many times, seemingly unconscious that any one was near (so entirely was he immersed in care and meditation), he placed himself before him, and, in the Grecian manner of salutation, bid him be of good cheer.[12] The other replied, his fortunes were such that good cheer was out of the question. Cnemon, surprised, asked: "Are you a stranger from Greece, or from whence?"—"I am neither a Grecian nor a stranger," said he, "but an Egyptian of this country."—"Why, then, have you a Grecian dress?"—"My misfortunes," says he, "have put me into this splendid habit." The other, wondering how misfortunes could improve a man's appearance, and seeming desirous to be informed—"You carry me into a 'tale of Troy divine,'"[13] replied the old man; "and a swarm of evils, the recital of which would oppress you. But whence do you come, Ο young man, and whither are you going? and how come I to hear the Greek tongue in Egypt?"—"It is a little unreasonable in you," replied Cnemon, "to ask these questions of me, you who will tell nothing about yourself, though I made the first inquiries."—"I admit it," said the other; "but do not be offended. You seem to be a Greek, and to have yourself undergone some transformation from the hand of fortune. You are desirous to hear my adventures; I am no less so to relate them. Probably I had told them to these reeds, as the fable[14] goes, if I had not met with you. But let us leave the Nile and its banks; for a situation exposed to the meridian sun is not a proper place for a long narration. If you have no urgent business which hinders you, let us go to the town which you see opposite to us. I will entertain you, not in my own house, but in that of a good man who received me when I implored his protection. There you may listen to my story, and in your turn relate your own."—"With all my heart," said Cnemon, "for I myself was going to this town to wait for some friends of mine, whom I had appointed to meet there." Getting, therefore, into a boat, many of which were lying by the river's side, to transport passengers, they crossed over into the town, and arrived at the house where the stranger was lodged. The master of the house was not at home; but his daughter, a marriageable maiden, received them with great cheerfulness, and the servants waited upon the old man as if he had been their father, most probably by their master's orders. One washed his feet, and wiped off the dust from under his knees; another got ready his bed, and strewed it with soft coverings; a third brought an urn, and filled it with fire; a fourth prepared the table, and spread it with bread and various kinds of fruit.
Cnemon, wondering at their alacrity, exclaimed, "We have certainly got into the house of Jove the Hospitable,[15] such is the attention and singular benevolence with which we are received."—"You have not got into the habitation of Jove," replied the other, "but into that of a man who exactly imitates his hospitable and charitable qualities: for his life[16] has been a mercantile and wandering one; he has seen many cities, and observed the manners of many nations; he is naturally therefore inclined to compassionate the stranger, and receive the wanderer, as he did me not many days ago."—"And how came you to be a wanderer, father?"—"Being deprived," said he, "of my children by robbers; knowing those who had injured me, but unable to contend with them; I roam about this spot, mourning and sorrowing; not unlike a bird whose nest a serpent[17] has made desolate, and is devouring her young before her eyes. She is afraid to approach, yet cannot bear to desert them; terror and affection struggle within her; she flies mournfully round the scene of her calamities, pouring in vain her maternal complaints into ears deaf to her waitings and strangers to mercy."—"Will you then relate," said Cnemon, "when and how you encountered this grievous war of woe?"—"By-and-bye," he replied; "but let us now attend to our craving stomach; which, because it considers itself of more consequence than any other organ, is called by Homer destructive.[18] And first, as is the custom of the Egyptian sages, let us make a libation to the gods. Nothing shall make me omit this; nor shall grief ever so entirely possess my mind, as to render me forgetful of what I owe to heaven." With this he poured pure water out of the vase, and said, "I make this libation to the gods of this country, and those of Greece; to the Pythian Apollo, and also to Theagenes and Chariclea, the good and beautiful, since I reckon them also among the gods:" and then he wept, as if he were making another libation to them with his tears. Cnemon, greatly struck at what he heard, viewed the old man from head to foot, and exclaimed, "What do you say? Are Theagenes and Chariclea really your children?"—"They are my children," replied the stranger, "but born to me without a mother. Fortune, by the permission of the gods, gave them to me; I brought them forth with the travail of my soul. My great inclination towards them supplied the place of nature; and I have been esteemed by them, and called their father. But tell me, how came you acquainted with them?"—"I am not only acquainted with them," said Cnemon, "but can assure you that they are alive and well."—"Ο Apollo, and all the gods!" he exclaimed, "where are they? Tell me, I beseech you; and you will be my preserver and equal to the gods!"—"But what shall be my reward?" replied the other.—"At present that of obliging me; no mean reward to a wise man: I know many who have laid up this as a treasure in their hearts. But if we arrive in my country, which, if I may believe the tokens of the gods, will ere long be, your utmost desires shall be satisfied with wealth."