But Cnemon arose, and, going out of his chamber, encountered all those difficulties which it was probable a stranger would meet with, who wanders at night, and in the dark, in an unknown house; but he struggled with them all, such was his horror of Thisbe, and his anxiety to clear away the apprehensions which were raised in his mind by what fell from Nausicles. After passing and repassing many times, without knowing it, the same passages, at last he heard the soft voice of a woman lamenting, like a vernal nightingale pouring out her melancholy notes at eventide.[3] Led by the sound, he advanced towards the apartment; and putting his ear to the division of the folding doors, he listened, and heard her thus lamenting:—
"What an unhappy fate is mine! I thought I had escaped from the hands of the robbers, and avoided a cruel death. I flattered myself that I should pass the remainder of my life with my beloved; wandering indeed, and in foreign lands, but with him it would have been sweet; and every difficulty would have been supportable. But my evil genius is not yet satisfied; he gave me a glance of hope, and has plunged me afresh in despair. I hoped I had escaped servitude, and am again a slave; a prison, and am still confined. I was kept in an island, and surrounded with darkness; my situation is not now very different, indeed, perhaps rather worse, for he who was able and willing to console me is separated from me. The Pirates' cave which I yesterday inhabited, seemed indeed an avenue to the shades below; more like a charnel house than a dwelling; but his presence in whom I delighted made it pleasant; for he lamented my fate living, and shed tears over me when he thought me dead. Now I am deprived of every comfort; he who partook of and lessened the burden of my misfortunes is ravished from me; and I, deserted and a captive, am exposed alone to the assaults of cruel fortune; and endure to live only because I have a glimmering of hope that my beloved still survives. But where, Ο delight of my soul, are you? What fate has awaited you? Are you also forced to be a slave—you, whose spirit is so free, and impatient of all slavery except that of love? Oh, may your life be safe, at least; and may you, though late, see again your Thisbe! for so, however unwilling, you must call me."
When Cnemon heard this, he could no longer restrain himself, or have patience to listen to what was to follow; but guessing from what he had already heard, and particularly from what was last uttered, that the complainer could be no other than Thisbe, he was ready to fall into a swoon at the very doors; he composed himself, however, as well as he was able, and fearing lest he should be discovered by any one (for morning now approached, and the cock had twice crowed), he hurried back with a tottering pace.
Now his foot stumbled; now he fell against the wall, and now against the lintels of the door; sometimes he struck his head against utensils hanging from the ceiling; at last, with much difficulty, and after many wanderings, he reached his own apartment, and threw himself upon the bed. His body trembled, and his teeth chattered, and it might have become a very serious matter had not Calasiris, alarmed at the disorder in which he returned, come to his assistance, and soothed and comforted him. When he came a little to himself, he inquired into the cause of it.
"I am undone," exclaimed Cnemon; "that wretch Thisbe is really alive;" and having said this, he sank down again and fainted away.
Calasiris having with much ado recovered him, attempted to cheer his mind. Some envious demon, who makes human affairs his sport, was no doubt practising his illusions upon Cnemon, not suffering him to enjoy his good fortune unalloyed with trouble; but making that which was afterwards to be the cause of his greatest pleasure wear at first the appearance of calamity: either because such is the perverse disposition of those beings, or because human nature cannot admit pure and unmixed joy. Cnemon, at this very time, was flying from her whom he above all things desired to meet, and frightened at that which would have been to him the most pleasing of sights; for the lady who was thus lamenting was not Thisbe but Chariclea. The train of accidents which brought her into the house of Nausicles was as follows:—
After Thyamis was taken prisoner, the island set on fire, and its pirate inhabitants expelled, Thermuthis, his lieutenant, and Cnemon crossed over the lake in the morning to make inquiries after Thyamis. What happened on their expedition, has been before related. Theagenes and Chariclea were left alone in the cave, and esteemed what was to prove only an excess of calamity, a great present blessing; since now for the first time, being left alone, and freed from every intruding eye, they indulged themselves in unrestrained embraces and endearments; and forgetting all the world, and clinging together as though forming but one body, they enjoyed the first fruits of pure and virgin love; warm tears were mingled with their chaste kisses; chaste I say, for if at any time human nature was about to prevail on Theagenes he was checked by Chariclea, and put in mind of his oath; nor was it difficult to bring him back within due bounds, for though not proof against pure love, he was superior to mere sensual desire. But when at length they called to mind that this was a time for consultation they ceased their dalliance, and Theagenes began as follows:—
"That we may spend our lives together, my dearest Chariclea, and obtain at last that union which we prefer to every earthly blessing, and for the sake of which we have undergone so much, is my fervent prayer, and may the gods of Greece grant it! But since every thing human is fluctuating, and subject to change, since we have suffered much, and have yet much to hope, as we have appointed to meet Cnemon at Chemmis, and are uncertain what fortunes may await us there, and, in fine, as the country to which all our wishes tend is at a great distance, let us agree upon some token by which we may secretly hold communication when present; and, if at any time separated, may trace out each other in absence; for a token between friends is an excellent companion in a wanderer's journey, and may often be the means of again bringing them together."
Chariclea was pleased with the proposal; and they agreed, if they were divided, to write upon any temple, noted statue, bust of Mercury,[4] or boundary-stone, Theagenes the word Pythicus, and Chariclea Pythias; whether they were gone to the right or the left; to what city, town, or people; and the day and hour of their writing. If they met in any circumstances, or under any disguise, they depended upon their mutual affection to discover one another, which they were certain no time could efface, or even lessen. Chariclea, however, showed him the ring which had been exposed with her, and Theagenes exhibited a scar made upon his knee by a wild boar. They agreed on a watch-word: she, lampas (a lamp), he, phoinix (a palm-tree). Having made these arrangements, they again embraced each other, and again wept, pouring out their tears as libations, and using kisses as oaths.
At last they went out of the cave, touching none of the treasures it contained, thinking riches obtained by plunder an abomination. They selected, however, some of the richest jewels which they themselves had brought from Delphi, and which the pirates had taken from them, and prepared for their journey. Chariclea changed her dress, packing up in a bundle her necklace, her crown, and sacred garments; and, the better to conceal them, put over them things of less value. She gave the bow and quiver (the emblems of the god under whom he served) to Theagenes to bear: to him a pleasant burden.