They came to the temple of Mercury (for him, as the god of gain and merchants, Nausicles particularly worshipped); and when the sacred rites were performed, Calasiris inspected the entrails of a victim, and changing his countenance according as they portended joyful or adverse events, at last stretched out his hand, (murmuring certain words) and pretending to take something from among the ashes, presented a ring of great value to Nausicles, which he had brought with him for that purpose: "And here," said he, "the gods, by my hands, offer you this as a ransom for Chariclea."
The ring[7] was a perfect marvel, both for material and workmanship. The circle was of electrum, within the bezil[8] was an Ethiopian amethyst, of the size of a maiden's eye, finer much than those of Spain or Britain; for these latter have a dullish tinge of purple, like a rose just bursting from its bud, and beginning to redden under the sun's beams; whereas the Ethiopian amethyst shines with a deeper and more sparkling lustre; if you turn it about it scatters its rays on all sides, not dulling but lighting up the sight.
They are besides of much greater virtue than the western ones; they do not belie their name,[9] but will really keep those who wear them sober amid great excesses. This property is common to all the Indian and Ethiopian stones: but that which Calasiris now gave Nausicles far surpassed them. It was carved with wonderful art, and represented a shepherd tending his sheep. He sat upon a rock, gently elevated from the ground, surveying his flock, and distributing them[10] into different pastures by the various notes of his pipe; they seemed to obey, and to feed as the sound directed them. You would say that they had golden fleeces, the natural blush of the amethyst, without the aid of art, casting a glow upon their backs. Here you might observe the frolics of the little lambs; some climbing up the ascent, others gambolling around the shepherd, converted the rock into a pastoral theatre. Some wantoning in the flame of the gem as in the sun, just touched in bounding the rocky surface; others, older and more bold, seemed as if they would overleap the circle; but here art had hindered them, and surrounded the jewel in the rock with the golden bezil. The rock was not counterfeit, but real; the artist, to represent it, had inclosed the edges of the stone, and was not put to the trouble of feigning what in reality existed. Such then was the ring.
Nausicles was struck at the seeming miracle, and delighted with the beauty of the gem, which he esteemed to be of more value than all he was worth.—"I was but jesting," said he, "my dear Calasiris, when I talked of a ransom for your daughter; my design was to restore her to you freely; and without price; but since, as they say, the gifts of the gods are not to be refused, I accept this jewel which is sent from heaven; persuaded that it is a present from Mercury, the best of deities, who has furnished you with it through the fire, and indeed you see how it sparkles itself with flames: besides, I think that the pleasantest and most lawful gain is that which, without impoverishing the giver, enriches the receiver."
Having said this, he took the ring, and proceeded with the rest of the company to an entertainment; the women by themselves, in the interior of the temple; the men in the vestibule. When they had satisfied their appetite, and the board was crowned with cups, they sang a suitable[11] hymn to Bacchus, and poured out libations to him; the women sang a hymn of thanksgiving to Ceres. Chariclea, retiring from the rest, occupied with her own thoughts, prayed for the health and safe return of Theagenes.
And now, the company being warmed with wine, and rife with mirth, Nausicles, holding out a goblet of pure water, said, "Good Calasiris, let us offer this to the nymphs, the sober nymphs your deities, who have no sympathy with Bacchus, and are nymphs in very deed; but if you will entertain us with such a relation as we wish to hear, it will be more pleasant to us than even our flowing bowls. You see the women have already risen from the table, and are amusing themselves with dancing; but neither dancing nor music will be so pleasant to us as the narrative of your wanderings, if you will favour us with it. You have often excused yourself from the task on account of the troubles with which you were overwhelmed, and the lowness of your spirits; but there cannot be a more proper time for it than the present, when everything contributes to remove the one and to raise the other. You have recovered your daughter, and have hopes of recovering your son; especially if you do not affront me, by deferring your story any longer."
"Now may all good attend you, Nausicles," said Cnemon, putting in his word; "who, although you have provided all manner of music for our recreation, are willing to forego such delights (leaving them to ordinary minds), and to listen to higher and mysterious matters, seasoned with a divine interest. You show judgment in coupling together the deities, Mercury and Bacchus, thus mingling the pleasures of discourse with those of wine. Though I admire the whole order of this splendid sacrifice, yet I know nothing which will render the god of eloquence more propitious, than if this good old man will contribute his narrative[12] to the rest of the entertainment."
Calasiris obeyed, as well to oblige Cnemon, as to conciliate the favour of Nausicles, whose[13] services he foresaw he should have occasion for, and entered upon his story. He began with what he had already related to Cnemon; he was now, however, less minute, and entirely passed over some matters which he did not choose Nausicles to know; and when he had proceeded to the point where he had before left off,[14] he went on as follows:
"As the wind was at first very favourable to us, the fugitives from Delphi began to flatter themselves with the hopes of a prosperous voyage; but when we got into the straits of Calydon,[15] the swell and rolling of the waves alarmed them not a little;" here Cnemon, interrupting, begged him to explain, if he could, the cause of that agitation. "The Ionian sea," continued Calasiris, "from being wide beyond, is there contracted, and pours itself, by a narrow channel, into the Crissæan gulf; whence, hastening to mingle its waters with the Ægean, it is stopped and thrown back again by the Isthmus of Peloponnesus; which is opposed, probably, as a rampart by divine providence, lest it should overflow the opposite land: and a greater reflux being occasioned in the strait than in the rest of the gulf, from the encounter of the advancing and retreating tides the waves, owing to this repercussion, boil, swell, and break in tumult one over the other." This explanation was received with the applause and approbation of all; and the old man continued his narration.
"Having passed the strait, and lost sight of the Oxian[16] Isles, we thought we discovered the promontory of Zacynthus, which rose on our sight like an obscure cloud, and the pilot gave orders to furl the sails. We inquired why he slackened the vessel's speed, when we had a prosperous wind: 'Because,' said he, 'if we continue to sail at the rate we do at present, we shall arrive off the island about the first watch of the night; and I fear lest, in the darkness, we may strike upon some of the rocks which abound under the sea on that coast: it is better therefore for us to keep out at sea all night, carrying only so much sail as may suffice to bring us under the island in the morning.' This was the opinion of the pilot: however we made land sooner than he expected, and cast anchor at Zacynthus just as the sun rose.