[22] "Φιλήσω τ', εί θἐμις, τὸ σὸν κάρα."—Soph. Œd. Col. 1131.
[23] Of one of whom Pindar says—
'Εθέλω χαλκόσπιδα Πυθιoνίκαν
.... γεγωνεῖν.—Pyth. xi. 1.
[BOOK IV.]
"The ensuing day ended the Pythian games; but not the conflict of the youthful pair; Love was the arbiter, and in the persons of these his combatants, determined to exhibit his mightiest contest. Towards the end of the ceremony, when all Greece was looking on, and the Amphictyons sat as judges; when the races, the wrestlings, and the boxing matches were over; a herald came forward, and made proclamation for the men in armour to appear. At that instant the priestess Chariclea shone out like some fair star at the end of the course; for she had prevailed with herself, however unfit, to come forth, that she might comply with the custom of her country: and perhaps not without a secret hope of seeing Theagenes. She bore a torch in her left hand, and a branch of palm in her right. At her appearance every eye in the assembly was turned upon her, but none sooner than that of Theagenes; for what is so quick as the glance of a lover? He, who perhaps had heard that it was probable she might come, had his whole mind intent upon that expectation; and, when she appeared, was not able to contain himself; but said softly to me, who sat next to him, ''Tis she herself; 'tis Chariclea!' I bid him be silent, and compose himself. And now, at the summons of the herald, a warrior stood forth; splendidly armed, of noble air, and distinguished appearance; who had formerly been victor in many contests, but at this meeting had not engaged in any, probably because he could not find a competitor; and none now appearing to oppose him, the Amphyctyons ordered him to retire, the law not permitting any one to be crowned who had not contended. He begged the herald might be suffered again to make proclamation, which he did, calling upon some one to enter the lists.
"Theagenes said to me, 'This man calls upon me.'—'How so?' said I,—'He does indeed,' he replied; 'for no other, while I am present and behold it, shall receive a crown from the hands of Chariclea.'—'But do you not consider the disgrace, if you should fail of success?'—'Will any one outrun me in speed and in desire to see and be near Chariclea?[1] To whom will the sight of her add swifter wings and more impetuous speed? You know that the painters make Love winged, signifying thereby how rapid are the motions of his captives; and, were I inclined to boast, I could say that no one hitherto has been able to excel me in swiftness.'—And immediately he sprang up, came forward, gave in his name and family, and took his allotted place.
"He stood there in complete armour, expecting with trembling eagerness the signal of the trumpet, and scarce able to wait for it. It was a noble and all-engrossing spectacle, as when Homer[2] describes Achilles contending on the banks of Scamander. The whole assembly was moved at his unexpected appearance, and felt as much interested in his success as they would have done for their own; such power has beauty to conciliate the minds of men. But Chariclea was affected more than all: I watched her countenance, and saw the changes of it. And when the herald proclaimed the names of the racers—Ormenus the Arcadian, and Theagenes the Thessalian—when they sprang forward from the goal, and ran together with a swiftness almost too rapid for the eye to follow—then the maiden was unable to contain herself; her limbs trembled, and her feet quivered, as if they could assist the course of her lover, on whom her whole soul was intent. The spectators were on the very tiptoe of expectation, and full of solicitude for the issue; and I more than all, who had now determined to regard Theagenes as my own son."
"No wonder," said Cnemon, "that those present were in an agony of expectation; when I, even now, am trembling for Theagenes. Deliver me, therefore, I beseech you, as soon as you can, out of my suspense."
"When they had not finished more than half their course," continued Calasiris, "Theagenes turning a little, and casting a stern glance at Ormenus, lifted up his shield on high, and stretching out his neck, and fixing his eyes intently on Chariclea, flew like an arrow to the goal, leaving the Arcadian far behind him. When he reached the maiden, he fell upon her bosom; not, I imagine, without design, but in appearance as if unable to check on a sudden the rapidity of his pace. When he took the palm from her hand, I observed he kissed it."