“So be it. Mind that I never repent this day’s clemency. And now farewell!”
The young man again saluted, and withdrew.
But when he unfolded his plan to the Theban, he found an obstacle which he might indeed have foreseen, but on which, nevertheless, he had not reckoned. Charondas was profoundly grateful to his deliverer, and deeply touched by his generosity. But to follow the man who had laid his country in the dust—that seemed impossible.
“What!” he cried, “take service with the son of Philip, the hereditary enemy of Hellas!”
“Listen!” said Charidemus; “there is but one hereditary perpetual enemy of Hellas, and that is the Persian. Since the days of Darius, the Great King has never ceased to scheme against her liberty. Do you know the story of the wrongs that these Persians, the most insolent and cruel of barbarians, have done to the children of Hellas?”
“Something of it,” replied Charondas; “but in Thebes we are not great readers; and besides, that is a part of history which we commonly pass over.”
“Well, it is a story of nearly two hundred years of wrong. Since Salamis and Platæa, indeed, the claws of the Persian have been clipped; but before that—it makes my blood boil to think of the things that they did to free-born men. You know they passed through Macedonia, and left it a wilderness. There are traditions in my family of their misdeeds and cruelties which make me fairly grind my teeth with rage. And then the way in which they treated the islands! Swept them as men sweep fish out of a pond! Their soldiers would join hand to hand, and drag the place, as if they were dragging with a net.”
“They suffered for it afterwards,” said Charondas.
“Yes, they suffered for it, but not in their own country. Twice they have invaded Hellas itself; and they hold in slavery some of the sons of Hellas to this day. But they have never had any proper punishment.”
“But what do you think would be proper punishment?” asked the Theban.