“Papa! now I am sure you look a good deal better than you did at first. Let me tell you something about the lesson I read this morning. It was a story of Zaleucus the Locrian, who put out one of his own eyes, that he might preserve eye-sight to his son.”
This artless story, thus innocently introduced, cut me to the soul. I started in my chair, and hid my face upon the table.
“Papa, what is the matter? Indeed you frighten me!”
“Zaleucus was a father! What then am I?”
“Yes, Zaleucus was very good indeed! But, do you know, his son was very naughty. It was his disobedience and wickedness that made him liable to such a punishment. I would not for the world be like Zaleucus’s son. I hope, papa, you will never suffer from my wilfulness. You shall not, papa, indeed, indeed!”
I caught the boy in my arms. “No, you are very good! you are too good! I cannot bear it!”
“Well, papa, I wish I were able to show you that I love you as well as ever Zaleucus loved his son!”
I was melted with the ingenuousness of the boy’s expression. I quitted him. I paced up and down the room. Suddenly, as if by paroxysm of insanity, I seized my child by the arm, I seated myself, I drew him towards me, I put my eye upon him.
“Boy, how dare you talk to me of Zaleucus? Do you mean to insinuate a reproach? Do I not discharge a father’s duty? If I do not, know, urchin, I will not be insulted by my child!”