In compliance with a request from the hero of Salamis, no less a person than Themistocles himself, Zopyrus betook himself to the home of that personage. The two had met frequently at public gatherings, and Zopyrus, influenced by the first words he had heard fall from the lips of Aeschylus which were tributes of praise to Themistocles, had since that time looked upon the actions and utterances of that statesman with approval.
A servant admitted him and led him through the reception room to a doorway which opened into a bright and cheerful solarium. The statist stood with arms folded and head bent in reverie. Upon hearing a footfall he turned quickly and greeted Zopyrus with outstretched hands.
“Welcome, my young friend,” he cried delightedly. “You come at a time when cheerful companionship is much needed. As if the cares of a nation are not enough, the gods are giving me more than my share of personal woe.”
Zopyrus seated himself in the sun-lit room and surveyed the luxuriant growth of potted tropical plants.
“One ought never to feel sad here,” he remarked, “but tell me what troubles you Themistocles.”
“I will first tell you of my political worries, though perhaps you share the opinion of many of my former friends, and can anticipate what I am about to say.”
“I can not know exactly what you wish to say, but I presume it has to do with the turning of popular favor against you.”
“Yes, that is at the bottom of my sorrow. Once—” here Themistocles’ voice broke and he could not continue for a moment, “once I was greatly honored and deservedly, Zopyrus. Do not think me a braggart to say so—but you will remember the favors that all Athens showed me after Salamis. I was and am still sincere in my hope for the welfare of this most glorious of cities, but personal enemies have sown the seeds of mistrust, and now former friends pass me with averted faces, and many cast glances of distrust. Did I not thwart the over-ambitious Sparta? Now the populace begins to clamor for a younger man, which is good and natural of course, but this young man favors an alliance with Sparta, and even argues that such a compact will be to our advantage. This young man, do you know him?” asked Themistocles with fervor.
“I believe you mean Cimon, the son of Miltiades, do you not?”
“The same,” cried Themistocles, “the son of a veritable rascal, so what can one expect!”