Artaphernes replied, "I knew not how far you might consider violent love an excuse for base proceedings; but I rejoice to see that you have pride becoming your noble birth. For another reason, it gives me happiness to find you ill-disposed toward this match; for duty will soon call me to Persia, and having just recovered you in a manner so miraculous, it would be a grievous sacrifice to relinquish you so soon. But am I so fortunate as to find you willing to return with me? Are there no strong ties that bind your heart to Athens?"
Perceiving that Eudora blushed deeply, he added, in an inquiring tone, "Clinias told me to-day, that Phidias wished to unite you with that gifted artist, his nephew Pandænus?"
The maiden replied, "I have many reasons to be grateful to Pandænus; and it was painful to refuse compliance with the wishes of my benefactor; but if Phidias had commanded me to obey him in this instance, my happiness would have been sacrificed. Of all countries in the world, there is none I so much wish to visit as Persia. Of that you may rest assured, my father."
The old man looked upon her affectionately, and his eyes filled with tears, as he exclaimed, "Oromasdes be praised, that I am once more permitted to hear that welcome sound! No music is so pleasant to my ears as that word—father. Zoroaster tells us that children are a bridge joining this earth to a heavenly paradise, filled with fresh springs and blooming gardens. Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father! But, my daughter, why is it that the commands of Phidias would have made you unhappy? Speak frankly, Artaminta; lest hereafter there should be occasion to mourn that we misunderstood each other."
Eudora then told all the particulars of her attachment to Philæmon, and her brief infatuation with regard to Alcibiades. Artaphernes evinced no displeasure at the disclosure; but spoke of Philæmon with great respect and affection. He dwelt earnestly upon the mischievous effects of such free customs as Aspasia sought to introduce, and warmly eulogized the strictness and complete seclusion of Persian education. When Eudora expressed fears that she might never be able to regain Philæmon's love, he gazed on her beautiful countenance with fond admiration, and smiled incredulously as he turned away.
The proposal of Alcibiades was civilly declined; the promised sum paid to his faithless steward, and the necklace, given by Phidias, redeemed.
Hylax had been forcibly carried to Salamis with his young mistress, lest his sagacity should lead to a discovery of her prison. When Eudora escaped from the island, she had reluctantly left him in her apartment, in order to avoid the danger that might arise from any untimely noise; but as soon as her own safety was secured, her first thoughts were for the recovery of this favourite animal, the early gift of Philæmon. The little captive had pined and moaned continually, during their brief separation; and when he returned, it seemed as if his boisterous joy could not sufficiently manifest itself in gambols and caresses.
When Artaphernes was convinced that he had really found his long-lost child, the impulse of gratitude led to very early inquiries for Pandænus. The artist had not yet re-appeared; and all Athens was filled with conjectures concerning his fate. Eudora still suspected that Alcibiades had secreted him, for the same reason that he had claimed Geta as a slave; for it was sufficiently obvious that he had desired, as far as possible, to deprive her of all assistance and protection.
The event proved her suspicions well founded. On the fourth day after her escape from Salamis, Pandænus came to congratulate Artaphernes, and half in anger, half in laughter, told the particulars of his story. He had been seized as he returned home at night, and had been forcibly conveyed to the mansion of Eurysaces, where he was kept a close prisoner, with the promise of being released whenever he finished a picture, which Alcibiades had long desired to obtain. This was a representation of Europa, just entering the ocean on the back of the beautiful bull, which she and her unsuspecting companions had crowned with garlands.
At first, the artist resisted, and swore by Phœbus Apollo that he would not be thus forced into the service of any man; but an unexpected circumstance changed his resolution.