“Whither? For a physician?”
“To Areopagus, fool! There’s where the constables have their camp. Bring ten men with fetters. He’s strong and desperate. Bias and I will wait and guard him. If you stir, traitor,—” she was holding a heavy meat-knife at the fugitive’s throat,—“I’ll slit your weasand like a chicken.”
But for once in his life Phormio defied his tyrant effectively. With one hand he tore the weapon from her clutch, the other closed her screaming mouth.
“Are you mad yourself? Will you rouse the neighbourhood? I don’t know what you and Polus tattled about to Democrates. I don’t greatly care. As for going for constables to seize Glaucon the Fortunate—”
“Fortunate!” echoed the miserable youth, rising on one elbow, “say it never again. The gods have blasted me with one great blow. And you—you are Phormio, husband and brother-in-law of those who have sworn against me,—you are the slave of Democrates my destroyer,—and you, woman,—Zeus soften you!—already clamour for my worthless life, as all Athens does to-morrow!”
Lampaxo suddenly subsided. Resistance from her spouse was so unexpected she lost at once arguments and breath. Phormio continued to act promptly; taking a treasured bottle from a cupboard he filled a mug and pressed it to the [pg 145]newcomer’s lips. The fiery liquor sent the colour back into Glaucon’s face. He raised himself higher—strength and mind in a measure returned. Bias had whispered to Phormio rapidly. Perhaps he had guessed more of his master’s doings than he had dared to hint before.
“Hark you, Master Glaucon,” began Phormio, not unkindly. “You are with friends, and never heed my wife. She’s not so steely hearted as she seems.”
“Seize the traitor,” interjected Lampaxo, with a gasp.
“Tell your story. I’m a plain and simple man, who won’t believe a gentleman with your fair looks, fame, and fortune has pawned them all in a night. Bias has sense. First tell how you came to wander down this way.”
Glaucon sat upright, his hands pressing against his forehead.