Zopyrus’ reply was made with becoming dignity. “I sincerely believe that the girl returns my affections, and as for my Persian ancestry, what think you of my features?”
Aeschylus’ expression of anger softened as he looked upon the young man’s face.
“There is the mystery,” he said in a puzzled voice, “I can think of no other than Theseus when I behold you. Your face is the type that characterizes our people.”
“From my departed mother have I inherited the features in which you behold a likeness to one of your national heroes, but not alone in face and form do I resemble the Greeks, but in nature too am I truly one of you. My mother was a Greek whose parents were members of the family of Ceryces.”
“Ceryces!” exclaimed Aeschylus in surprise. “Outside of the family of Eumolpidæ, I know no better in all this fair land. I bid you welcome to Greece and into our midst. I was not mistaken in my first impressions of you. Will you overlook the hasty words I spoke a few minutes ago?”
“I was not offended,” replied Zopyrus, “for I knew that after mature deliberation you would be convinced of the reality of my sincerity. My conscience has been my guide. I have always tried to obey it, thus keeping it ever sensitive.”
The poet smiled kindly into the earnest young face flushed with emotion.
“Young man, perfection lies in just that,” he said, “keeping the conscience sensitive. If you continue thus to strive after perfection in your youth you will be laying up virtues which will serve you in the crises of life which come later.”
“But I have often thought,” said Zopyrus puzzled, “that sometimes it is very difficult to determine between virtues and vices. That may sound very strange to you who consider them to be exactly opposite, but occasionally even a sensitive conscience can not discriminate. It seems to me that virtues and vices are very closely allied. How easy it is for one who is the very soul of generosity to over-step the bound and become a spendthrift! Might not one who possessed the virtue of thrift pass over the hair-breadth boundary into the vice of miserliness? Might not one of a loving nature tend toward licentiousness if not watchful, or one of self-restraint become too cold? Then again if one is neat and careful about one’s personal appearance might he not become vain if not watchful, or on the other hand if indifferent to the appearance of his body because the weightier matters of the soul concerned him more, might he not have the tendency to grow filthy and untidy in appearance? So it seems to me, my good Aeschylus, that it takes a very alert and sensitive conscience indeed to distinguish between the so-called virtues and vices, and to pass judgment correctly.”
“You are right, my boy, it does, and remember this; that in letting your conscience decide matters, you must not forget that no man lives unto himself, for everything he does affects another, but I see you are tired,” he said. “You have worked hard at the wall. In that you have done rightly, for toil is mankind’s greatest boon and life without industry is sin.”