Addressing herself then to Chariclea (for, urged by necessity, she ventured to hold this discourse before her), "Do you, my child," says she, "join your exhortations to mine; endeavour to bend this brother of yours, to whom I know not what name to give. If you succeed, you shall find the advantage great to yourself; you will not lose his love and you will gain more honour; riches will shower down upon you, and a splendid match will await you. These are enviable circumstances to any the chiefest of the natives; how much more to foreigners who are in poverty!" Chariclea, with a bitter smile, replied—
"It were to be wished that the breast of the most excellent lady, Arsace, had felt no such passion; or that, having felt it, she had had fortitude sufficient to bear and to repress it. But if the weakness of her nature has sunk under the force of love, I would counsel my brother no longer to refuse responding to it, if it may be done with any degree of security—if it may be possible to avoid the dangers which I see impending from the Viceroy's wrath, should he become acquainted with the dishonourable affair which is going on."
At these words Cybele sprang forwards, and, embracing and kissing Chariclea, "How I love you, my dear child;" she exclaimed, "for the compassion you shew for the sufferings of one of your own sex, and your solicitude for the safety of your brother. But here you may be perfectly at ease—the very sun shall know nothing of what passes." "Cease for the present," replied Theagenes seriously, "and give me time for consideration."
Cybele upon this went out, and—"Ο Theagenes!" said Chariclea, "the evil genius who persecutes us has given us a specious appearance of good fortune, with which there is really intermixed more of evil; but since things have so turned out, it is a great part of wisdom to draw some good, if possible, from each untoward accident. Whether you are determined to comply with the proposal which has been made to you, it is not for me to say. Perhaps, if our preservation depended upon your compliance, I might reconcile myself to it; but if your spirit revolts at the complaisance which is expected from you, feign at least that you consent, and feed with promises the barbaric woman's passion. By these means you will prevent her from immediately determining any thing harshly against us: lead her on by hope, which will soften her mind, and hinder her anger from breaking out: thus we shall gain time, and in the interval some happy accident, or some propitious deity, may deliver us from the perplexities with which we are surrounded. But beware, my dear Theagenes, that by dwelling in thought upon the matter you do not fall into the sin in deed."
Theagenes, smiling, replied,—"No misfortunes, I see—no embarrassments can cure a woman of the innate disease of jealousy: but be comforted, I am incapable of even feigning what you advise. In my mind, it is alike unbecoming to do or to say an unworthy thing; and there will be one advantage in driving Arsace to despair—that she will give us no farther trouble on this subject; and whatever else I am destined to suffer, my bent of mind and my bitter experience have but too well prepared me to bear."—Chariclea having said, "I fear you are bringing ruin upon our heads,"—held her peace.
While this conversation employed the lovers, Cybele went to Arsace, and encouraged her to hope for a favourable issue to her desires, for that Theagenes had intimated as much, she returned to her own apartments. She said no more that evening; but having in the night earnestly besought Chariclea, who shared her bed, to co-operate with her, in the morning she again attacked Theagenes, and inquired what he had resolved upon; when he uttered a plain downright refusal, and absolutely forbad her expecting any complaisance from him of the sort she wished. She returned disappointed and sorrowful to her mistress; who, as soon as she was made acquainted with the stern refusal of Theagenes, ordering the old woman to be ejected headlong out of the palace, entered into her chamber, and, throwing herself upon the bed, began to tear her hair, and beat her breast.—Cybele was returning home in disgrace, when her son Achæmenes met her, and, seeing her in tears, asked—"if any misfortune had happened to her?—Or has our mistress," said he, "received any bad news?—Has any calamity befallen the army?—Has Oroondates been defeated by the Ethiopians?"
He was running on in this manner with his questions, when his mother stopped him.—"Have done trifling," said she, "and let me alone." She was going away: he followed her, and taking her by the hand, besought her earnestly to explain to him, her son, the cause of her sorrow. She suffered herself to be led by him into a retired part of the garden, and then said—
"I would not to any one else disclose my own and my mistress's distresses; but since she is in the extremest agitation, and I am in danger of my life (for I fear the worst from her rage and disappointment), I will venture to speak, in case you should be able to think of any thing that may comfort and assist your poor mother. Arsace is in love with the young man who is now at my apartments: she burns with no common affection, but with inflamed and ungovernable passion; and when both of us thought it an easy matter for her to satisfy her inclinations, we have been miserably disappointed. To this cause you are to attribute the attentions which have been paid to, and the favours which have been showered upon, the strangers; but since this stupid, rash, and unbending youth has rejected all our advances, she, I think, will not survive it; and I anticipate destruction for myself. This, my child, is the cause of my present affliction:—if you have it in your power to assist me, do it quickly, or else prepare shortly to pay the last rites over my tomb."
"What shall be my reward?" replied Achæmenes, "for it is necessary to come directly to the point: it is not a time, in your present confusion and distress, to delay you with long discourse."
"Ask whatever you please," replied Cybele: "I have already, by my interest, made you head-cupbearer: if you are desirous of any greater dignity, tell me so: there is no degree of wealth, or honour, to which you may not aspire, if you can procure Arsace the means of satisfying her inclinations."