“Polycratia, ’tis true, must be got rid of,” replied the young king brutally; “but that is easy. Although I made her queen, she is not really my wife, but the wife of one Aratus, from whom I took her. Thus ’tis simple enough. I will send her back to her husband Aratus, and by so doing shall I greatly please this unruly nation of the Achæans. Thus, fair lady Elissa, thou wilt alone reign queen of my heart, and there will be no other to dispute thy sway in Macedon.”
“And thinkest thou, oh Philip, that Polycratia will be happy thus? But, after all, what is she to me? A woman myself, I cannot seek to rule the fate of other women; yet would I strive to rule the fate of Carthage and to injure Rome, otherwise I had not listened for a moment to thine unworthy proposals. Therefore, King Philip, hearken! If thou wilt send away thy queen, and if thou wilt make a treaty as I shall dictate, then, when I have actually seen, with mine own eyes, the departure of the ambassadors to Hannibal, will I, as my share of the bargain, yield unto thee myself, and become the minister of thy will. But ere these things be accomplished, seek not again to intrude upon my privacy; and, above all things, beware of again taking advantage of my defenceless position to insult me. For seest thou this dagger which I have concealed about me? Had I thought on it last night when thou wast brutally ill-treating me, thou hadst assuredly been slain. But by Melcareth, ruler of the universe! if thou dost, before the despatch of this treaty of alliance—to obtain which I must sacrifice mine honour—but so much as lay a hand on me, I will assuredly slay myself with this weapon. For although I may consent, solely seeking the welfare of my country, to give myself to thee, think not that I do love thee, Philip. Nay, far from it! I do scorn and despise thee, king as thou art!”
Elissa’s nostrils quivered with nervous emotion and angry scorn as, with the dagger uplifted in her hand, and her head thrown back, she gazed upon the king with determined glance and flashing eyes.
Philip was cowed by her demeanour, but he would have liked to have seized her in his arms once more even then had he dared.
“Oh, never mind the love,” he said, smiling; “that will come later. Other women have said that before thee—ay, even this very Polycratia herself did speak just so. But thine assent is the important thing, and that is now settled; it is therefore a bargain between us. Now what may I do to please thee?”
Elissa turned from the king in utter disgust as she thought of her long and steadfast faith to Maharbal, of her pure but fruitless love for Scipio, both now to be sullied and polluted by the surrender of her person to this satyr of a king. And inwardly a great cry rose up in her heart. “Oh, Hannibal, my father, thy precepts have cost me dear!”
“This thou canst do to please me, King Philip,” she exclaimed freezingly. “Remove thyself from my sight until such time as I have to endure thy presence whether I will or no.”
Turning her back upon Philip she left the apartment. But the king laughed aloud, utterly careless of her feelings.
A few days later the treaty was completed on terms most favourable to Hannibal and Carthage. And when Elissa had actually seen an embassy, headed by one Xenophanes, sail with five ships for Italy, she completed her great, her terrible act of self-sacrifice in her country’s cause.
When once the die had been cast, Philip seemed anxious to prove to Elissa that he had been in earnest in concluding for her sake the treaty with Hannibal. He took, within a week or two of the departure of the ambassadors, an irrevocable step, and one which was calculated to embroil him absolutely with Rome. For, having heard that a Roman army, accompanied by King Attalus of Rhodes, and also the Ætolians, had landed on the Peloponnesus to wage war upon the Achæans, with whom he was then allied, Philip took advantage of the occasion, and, without waiting to make any declaration of war, marched out against the Romans in gallant array with all his army.