"'It belongs, indeed, to me,' said Charicles, 'to make the libation; but let the chief of the sacred embassy receive the torch from the hands of Diana's priestess, and light the pile; for such has always been our custom.' Having said this, he performed his part of the ceremony, and Theagenes received the torch from Chariclea. From what now happened, my dear Cnemon, we may infer that there is something divine in the soul, and allied to a superior nature; for their first glance at each other was such, as if each of their souls acknowledged its partner, and hastened to mingle with one which was worthy of it.[7]
"They stood awhile, as if astonished;[8] she slowly offering and he slowly receiving the torch; and fixing their eyes on one another, for some space, they seemed rather to have been formerly acquainted, than to have now met for the first time, and to be returning gradually into each other's memory. Then softly, and almost imperceptibly smiling, which the eyes, rather than the lips, betrayed, they both blushed, as if ashamed of what they had done; and again turned pale, the passion reaching their hearts. In short, a thousand shades of feeling wandered in a few moments over their countenances; their complexion and looks betraying in various ways the movements of their souls.
"These emotions escaped the observation of the crowd, whose attention was engaged on other things. They escaped Charicles too, who was employed in reciting the solemn prayers and invocations, but they did not escape me, for I had particularly observed these young people, from the time that the oracle was given to Theagenes in the temple; I had formed conjectures as to the future from the allusion to their names, though I could not entirely comprehend the latter part of the prediction.
"At length Theagenes slowly and unwillingly turning from the maiden, lighted the pile, and the solemn ceremony ended. The Thessalians betook themselves to an entertainment, and the rest of the people dispersed to their own habitations. Chariclea putting on a white robe, retired with a few of her companions to her apartment, which was within the precincts of the temple; for she did not live with her supposed father, but dwelt apart for the better performance of the temple services.
"Rendered curious by what I had heard and seen, I sought an opportunity of meeting Charicles. As soon as he saw me, he cried out, 'Well, have you seen Chariclea, the light of my eyes, and of Delphi?'—'I have,' I replied, 'but not now for the first time; I have frequently before seen her in the temple, and that not in a cursory manner. I have often sacrificed with her, and conversed with and instructed her, on various subjects, divine and human.'—'But what did you think of her to-day, my good friend? Did she not add some ornament to the procession?'—'Some ornament, do you say? you might as well ask me whether the moon[9] outshines the stars.'—'But some praise the Thracian youth, and give him at least the second place to her.'—'The second, if you will, and the third; but all allow that your daughter was the crown and sun of the ceremonial.' Charicles was delighted with this, and smiling said, 'I am just going to see her.' I, too, was pleased, for my view was to inspire him with content and confidence. 'If you will,' he added, 'we will go together, and see whether she is the worse for the fatigues she has undergone.' I gladly consented, but pretended I went to oblige him; and that I gave up other business of my own.
"When we arrived at her apartment, we found her lying uneasily upon her couch, her eyes melting with languor and passion.[10] Having as usual saluted her father, he asked what was the matter with her? She complained that her head ached; and said that she wished to take a little rest. Charicles, alarmed, went out of the chamber, ordering her maids to keep every thing quiet about her; and, turning to me, 'What languor,' said he, 'my good Calasiris, can this be, which seems to oppress my daughter?'—'Wonder not,' I replied, 'if, in such an assembly of people, some envious[11] eye has looked upon her.' 'And do you, too,' he returned, smiling ironically, 'think, with the vulgar, that there is any thing in fascination?'—'Indeed I do,' said I; 'and thus I account for its effects: this air which surrounds us, which we take in with our breath, receive at our eyes and nostrils, and which penetrates into all our pores, brings with it those qualities with which it is impregnated; and, according to their different natures, we are differently affected. When any one looks at what is excellent, with an envious eye, he fills the surrounding atmosphere with a pernicious quality, and transmits his own envenomed exhalations into whatever is nearest to him. They, as they are thin and subtle, penetrate even into the bones and marrow; and thus envy has become the cause of a disorder to many, which has obtained the name of fascination.
"'Consider besides, O Charicles, how many have been infected with inflammation of the eyes, and with other contagious distempers, without ever touching, either at bed or board, those who laboured under them, but solely by breathing the same air with them.[12] The birth of love affords another proof of what I am explaining, which, by the eyes alone, finds a passage to the soul; and it is not difficult to assign the reason; for as, of all the inlets to our senses, the sight is the most quick and fiery, and most various in its motions; this animated faculty most easily receives the influences which surround it, and attracts to itself the emanations of love.
"'If you wish for an example from natural history, here is one taken out of our sacred books. The bird Charadrius[13] cures those who are afflicted with the jaundice. If it perceives, at a distance, any one coming towards it, who labours under this distemper, it immediately runs away, and shuts its eyes; not out of an envious refusal of its assistance, as some suppose, but because it knows, by instinct, that, on the view of the afflicted person, the disorder will pass from him to itself, and therefore it is solicitous to avoid encountering his eyes. You have heard, perhaps, of the basilisk, which, with its breath and aspect alone, parches up and infects everything around it. Nor is it to be wondered at, if some fascinate those whom they love and wish well to; for they who are naturally envious do not always act as they would wish, but as their nature compels them to do.' Here Charicles, after a pause, said, 'You seem to have given a very reasonable account of this matter; and as you appear to admit that there are various kinds of fascination, I wish hers may be that of love; I should then think that she was restored to health, rather than that she was disordered. You know I have often besought your assistance in this matter. I should rejoice rather than grieve, if this were the affection she labours under, she who has so long set at nought Venus and all her charms. But, I doubt, it is the more common sort of fascination, that of an evil eye, which afflicts her. This your wisdom will certainly enable you to cure, and your friendship to us will incline you to attempt it.' I promised to do all in my power to relieve her, should this be the case; and we were still talking, when a man arrives in haste, and calls out—'One would imagine, my good friends, that you were invited to a fray instead of a feast, you are so tardy in coming up; and yet it is the excellent Theagenes who prepares it for you; and Neoptolemus, the first of heroes, who presides at it. Come away, for shame, and do not make us wait for you until evening. Nobody is absent but yourselves.'
"'This,' whispers Charicles, 'is but a rough inviter;[14] the gifts of Bacchus have not mended his manners. But let us go, lest he come from words to blows.' I smiled at his pleasantry, and said I was ready to attend him. When we entered, Theagenes placed Charicles next to himself; and paid some attention to me, out of respect to him. But why should I fatigue you with a detail of the entertainments; the dancing and singing girls, the youths in armour, who moved in Pyrrhic measures; the variety of dishes with which Theagenes had decked his table, in order to make the feast more jovial? But what follows is necessary for you to hear, and pleasant for me to relate. Our entertainer endeavoured to preserve a cheerful countenance, and forced himself to behave with ease and politeness to his company, but I perceived plainly what he suffered within; his eyes wandered, and he sighed involuntarily. Now he would be melancholy and thoughtful; then on a sudden, recollecting himself, his looks brightened, and he put on a forced cheerfulness. In short, it is not easy to describe the changes he underwent; for the mind of a lover, like that of one overcome with wine, cannot long remain in the same situation, both their souls fluctuating with weak and unsteady passion. For which reason a lover is disposed to drink; and he who has drunk is inclined to love.
"At length, from his yawning, his sighs, and his anxiety, the rest of the company begun to perceive that he was indisposed; so that even Charicles, who had not hitherto observed his uneasiness, whispered me, 'I fancy an envious eye has looked upon him also; he seems to be affected much in the same manner as Chariclea.' 'Indeed, I think so, too,' I replied; 'and it is probable enough, for next after her in the procession, as being most conspicuous, he was most exposed to envy.'