He even would have left the litter, had not Themistocles firmly forbidden. In time the Alcmæonid’s strength would return, though never the speed that had left the stadia behind whilst he raced to save Hellas.
They mounted the Rock. From above, in the old-time brightness, the noonday light, the sunlight of Athens, sprang down to them. Hermione, looking on Glaucon’s face, saw him gaze eagerly upon her, his child, the sacred Rock, and the glory from Helios. Then his face wore a strange smile [pg 449]she could not understand. She did not know that he was saying in his heart:—
“And I thought for the rose vales of Bactria to forfeit—this!”
They were on the summit. The litter was set down on the projecting spur by the southwest corner. The area of the Acropolis was desolation, ashes, drums of overturned pillars, a few lone and scarred columns. The works of man were in ruin, but the works of the god, of yesterday, to-day, and forever were yet the same. They turned their backs on the ruin. Westward they looked—across land and sea, beautiful always, most beautiful now, for had they not been redeemed with blood and tears? The Barbarian was vanquished; the impossible accomplished. Hellas and Athens were their own, with none to take away.
They saw the blue bay of Phaleron. They saw the craggy height of Munychia, Salamis with its strait of the victory, farther yet the brown dome of Acro-Corinthus and the wide breast of the clear Saronian sea. To the left was Hymettus the Shaggy, to right the long crest of Daphni, behind them rose Pentelicus, home of the marble that should take the shape of the gods. With one voice they fell to praising Athens and Hellas, wisely or foolishly, according to their wit. Only Hermione and Glaucon kept silence, hand within hand, and speaking fast,—not with their lips,—but with their eyes.
Then at the end Themistocles spoke, and as always spoke the best.
“We have flung back the Barbarian. We have set our might against the God-King and have conquered. Athens lies in ruins. We shall rebuild her. We shall make her more truly than before the ‘Beautiful,’ the ‘Violet-Crowned City,’ worthy of the guardian Athena. The conquering [pg 450]of the Persian was hard. The making of Athens immortal by the beauty of our lives, and words, and deeds is harder. Yet in this also we shall conquer. Yea, verily, for the day shall come that wherever the eye is charmed by the beautiful, the heart is thrilled by the noble, or the soul yearns after the perfect,—there in the spirit shall stand Athens.”
* * * * * * *
After they had prayed to the goddess, they went down from the Rock and its vision of beauty. Below a mule car met them. They set Glaucon and Hermione with the babe therein, and these three were driven over the Sacred Way toward the purple-bosomed hills, through the olive groves and the pine trees, across the slope of Daphni, to rest and peace in Eleusis-by-the-Sea.