“You consent then to my calling to-morrow on Oïdas with an official communication and recognition?”
“It is too soon,” Pericles pleaded.
“It is never too soon to marry your child well.”
“Perhaps you are right. I would have chosen a younger man. However, do not precipitate matters. I must know more of this Oïdas. He is a politician, and you know my feelings towards that class of men. It is just possible he may be less disreputable and illiterate than the general run. He cannot be an honourable man upon your own admission, for he stooped to buy the influence of that reptile, Stavros.”
“True, but all politicians do so. The greater they are, the more unscrupulous. It is part of their métier, as callousness to pain is of the surgeon’s. You have studied history and I have not; then this fact you must have learnt.”
“Sometimes the loose political mind may prove itself more keenly apprehensive of correct deductions than that of the studiously trained thinker,” Pericles rejoined, with a subtle smile. “Doubtless it is I who am in error.”
“This is idle wandering. I’ll grant you anything in argument, only grant me in turn the consideration of Oïdas’ proposals and his formal reception.”
Pericles thought awhile, then rose and stretched his arms.
“There will be nothing incorrect in receiving him. I cannot settle straight off to marry Inarime to him, but I agree with you that his proposals are worth considering. He is not the man I should have selected, and that is why I hesitate to compromise our honour. But he can come. I will not coerce my child. It is for her to say whether he will stay.”