Thus Eros brushed his wings across Theria’s fancy and flew away. No business of his was this. But youth was here—fearful impressibility: A breath, and youth is changed.
Who shall say that when in after years this boy sang of a woman and gave her a new type of nobleness the image of this proud sweet maid of Delphi did not float before him and make his creation real?
And as for Theria, the encounter was a peep outward into the world. From this time she became more aware of the hurry of development outside in the awakening land of Greece. From this time she felt it—the joyous advance into the light, new art, new politics, new thoughts.
The amassing knowledge of centuries was converging to a focus and the heart of the Greeks soared into a mental atmosphere never known before or since. This intense point came in Theria’s lifetime. No wonder the light of it penetrated all her walls and restrictions. No wonder she struggled to be free to meet it. Her own youth was of the youth-time of Hellas and longed to be merged with it as flame yearns toward flame.
CHAPTER XI
WHY NOT BE THE PYTHIA?
In times of war we picture every corner of a warring land torn with passion, dark with fear, dyed with blood. But this is not so. In Nikander’s household the four meals a day were served by quiet slaves, the washing was done down in the Pleistos River as the good housewife Melantho required it. Eleutheria received her daily lesson in spinning and weaving and damaged more good wool than any maid of all the generations of Nikanders. This indeed was Dame Melantho’s chief grief, despite the fact that her little land was cowering under the heaviest cloud of war that ever threatened a devoted country.
At every festival came crowding news of the great Persian king across the sea preparing his army to invade and devour. Into every port came sailors telling of the fleets of Phœnicians, Cyprians, Lykians, Dorians of Asia, etc., all of which fleets were making ready to pounce upon Greece. Then arrived the actual ambassadors of the King, demanding earth and water. Which was to say: “Consent to slavery and the Persians will leave you out of the fight.” Many cities gave these tokens immediately.
“Who, then, will resist?” “What will happen if any should resist?” “Will the gods help?” “Have the gods forgotten their beloved Hellas?”
Such were the questions which poured into Delphi. These days Nikander might be seen pacing to and fro in some lesche or near the Council House, seeing naught before him, blind to the beauty of hills and far-glimpsed vale. Then perhaps in desperation he would stride down the hill and along the road toward home.