The “Doubter” was the only one who thought it would be the proper thing to rap at the door and say we wanted to see the lady. We walked on, and he followed us protesting that he wanted to see her, but we paid no heed to his words. While walking sidewise with his eyes fixed upon the house he slipped and fell into a large pool of mud, and the incident changed the currents of his thoughts so that he said no more about the woman whom Byron has made famous throughout the English reading world.
The Maid of Athens of the well known poem,—“Zoe mou sas agapo”—was twice married, and, at the time of my visit to Athens, was far advanced in her second widowhood. I was told that her second husband was an Englishman, a Mr. Black, and that she was left at his death with very slender means of support. A subscription was raised for her in England so that the last years of her life were passed in tolerable comfort. I heard in London, just previous to my return to America, that she died in the summer of 1874, and that the little house where she lived is now occupied by her sister.
Whether the Maid of Athens was ever as beautiful as Byron represented her, I am unable to say. When I saw her it was more than fifty years after the penning of the poem, and fifty years, you know, will make great changes in the features and forms of the best of us. The face I saw at the window was old, withered, and wrinkled; it was not an unpleasant face, but age and sorrow had obliterated all the beauty which may have shone there half a century ago.
The moon reached the full while we were in Athens, and we embraced the opportunity to see the Acropolis by moonlight.
In theory it is necessary to have a permit from the authorities to go there at night, but a friend hinted to us that nothing of the kind was necessary. We followed his directions and this was the result.
It was nine o’clock and later when we went there and rapped at the gate. We rapped loudly, waited awhile and then rapped again.
The whole establishment of guards was evidently sound asleep, as all our rapping brought no response.
Then we rattled the gate, threw stones on the roof of the hut, shouted and made a noise generally.
No response.