"You have relieved my mind," said Cnemon; "I rejoice that he has both obtained the victory, and kissed his mistress. But what happened afterwards?"—"You are not only insatiable of hearing, Cnemon, but invincible by sleep; a great part of the night is now spent, and you are still wakeful, still attentive to my tedious story."—"I am at feud with Homer,[3] father, for saying that love, as well as everything else, brings satiety in the end; for my part I am never tired either of feeling it myself, or hearing of its influence on others; and lives there the man of so iron and adamantine an heart, as not to be enchanted with listening to the loves of Theagenes and Chariclea, though the story were to last a year? Go on, therefore, I beseech you."
"Theagenes," continued Calasiris, "was crowned, proclaimed victor, and conducted home with universal applause. But Chariclea was utterly vanquished; the second sight of Theagenes fixed deep that love which the first had inspired; for the mutual looks of lovers revive and redouble their passion; sight inflames the imagination, as fuel increases fire. She went home, and spent a night as bad or worse than the former one. I, too, was sleepless as before, ruminating how I should conceal our flight, and into what country it was the intention of the gods that I should conduct my young companions. I conjectured, from the words of the oracle, that it was to be by sea:
——'and oceans past,
In regions torrid shall arrive at last;'
but I could think only of one method to obtain some information whither I ought to take them; and that was, if I could gain a sight of the fillet which was exposed with Chariclea; on which, as Charicles said, some particulars relating to her were written. It was probable that I might learn from thence the names of her parents, and of her country, which I already guessed at; and it was thither, most likely, that the fates would direct her course. I went, therefore, in the morning, to the apartment of Chariclea; I found all her servants in tears, and Charicles in the deepest distress. I inquired into the cause of this agitation.
"'My daughter's malady,' he replied, 'increases visibly; she has passed a wretched night, worse than the preceding one.'—Upon this I desired that he, and all who were present, would leave the room; and that some one would procure for me a tripod, laurel, fire, and frankincense; and that no one would disturb me till I should call for them. Charicles ordered everything to be disposed as I desired. When I was left at liberty, I began a kind of scenical representation; I burnt my incense, I muttered a few prayers, and with the branch of laurel stroked Chariclea several times from head to foot. At last, after having played a hundred fooleries with myself and the maiden, I began yawning, grew tired of the mummery, and ceased. She smiled, shook her head, and signified that I was in an error, and had entirely mistaken the nature of her disorder. I approached nearer to her, and bid her be of good cheer, for her malady was by no means, uncommon or difficult of cure—that she was undoubtedly fascinated, perhaps when she was present at the procession, but most probably when she presided at the race—that I suspected who had fascinated her—that my suspicions fell upon Theagenes, who ran the armour race; for I had observed with what an intent and ardent eye he gazed upon her.
"'Whether he looked at me or not,' she replied, 'say no more of him; yet tell me who is he, and whence does he come? I saw many admiring him.'—I told her that she had already heard from the herald that he was a Thessalian—that he himself claimed to be of the family of Achilles; and, I thought, not without great appearance of truth: for his beauty and stature bespoke him a descendant from that hero. Yet he was not, like[4] him, insolent or arrogant, but possessed an elevated mind, tempered with sweetness; 'and though he has an evil eye, and has fascinated you, he suffers worse torments than he has inflicted.'
"'Father,' said she, 'I am obliged to you for the compassion you express for me; but do not wish ill to one who perhaps has not committed any wrong. My malady is not fascination, but, I think, of another kind.'—'Why do you conceal it then, my daughter, and not tell it freely, that you may meet with some relief? Consider me as a father to you, in age at least, and more in good-will. Am not I well known to, and the intimate friend of, Charicles? Tell me the cause of your disorder: put confidence in me; I swear I will not betray it. Speak freely, and do not increase your sufferings by concealing them: there is no disease, which when easily known, is not easily cured; but that which is become inveterate by time is almost incurable—silence nourishes anguish; what is disclosed admits of consolation and relief.'—After a pause, in which her countenance betrayed the various agitations of her mind, she said, 'Suffer me to continue silent to-day, I will be more explicit hereafter; if the art of divination, in which you are skilled, has not already discovered to you all I have to tell you.'
"Upon this I arose and took my leave, hinting to the maiden the necessity of overcoming her modesty and reserve. Charicles met me. 'What have you to tell me?' said he. 'All good news,' I replied. 'To-morrow your daughter shall be cured of her complaint, and something else shall happen which you greatly desire; in the meantime, however, it may not be amiss to send for a physician:' and having said this, I retired, that he might ask me no more questions.
"I had not gone far, when I saw Theagenes wandering about the precincts of the temple, talking to himself, and seeming satisfied if he could only see the place where Chariclea dwelt. Turning aside, I passed by as if I had not observed him; but he cried out, 'Calasiris, I rejoice to see you! listen to me; I have been long waiting for you.' I turned suddenly. 'My handsome Theagenes,' said I, 'I did not observe you.' 'How can he be handsome,' he replied, 'who cannot please Chariclea?' I pretended to be angry. 'Will you not cease,' I said, 'to dishonour me and my art, which has already worked upon her, and compelled her to love you? and she now desires, above all things, to see you.' 'To see me!' he exclaimed; 'what is it you tell me? why do not you instantly lead me to her:' and immediately he began advancing. I caught hold of his robe: 'Hold,' I cried, 'however famous you are for speed, this is not a business to be ventured upon in haste; it requires consideration and management, and many preparations, in order to ensure success and safety. You must not think to bear off by force so rich a prize. Do not you know that her father is one of the principal men of Delphi; and that such an attempt would here incur a capital punishment?' 'I regard not death,' he replied, 'if I can possess Chariclea; however, if you think it better, let us ask her in marriage of her father. I am not unworthy of his alliance.' 'We should not obtain her,' I answered; 'not that there can be any objection to you, but Charicles has long ago promised her to his sister's son.' 'He shall have no reason to rejoice in his good fortune,' said Theagenes. 'No one, while I am alive, shall make Chariclea his bride; my hand and sword have not yet so far forgot their office.' 'Moderate your passion,' I replied; 'there is no occasion for your sword; only be guided by me, and do as I shall direct you. At present retire, and avoid being seen often in public with me; but visit me sometimes, quietly and in private.' He went away quite cast down.
"On the morrow Charicles met me: as soon as he saw me he ran up to me, and repeatedly kissed my head, crying out, 'How great is the force of wisdom and friendship! You have accomplished the great work. The impregnable is taken. The invincible is vanquished. Chariclea is in love!'