首页 >出版文学> The Last Days of Pompeiil>第15章
  ThepoorgirldelightedlysatdownbesideGlaucus。Shedrewfromhergirdleaballofthemany—coloredthreads,orratherslenderribands,usedintheweavingofgarlands,andwhich(foritwasherprofessionaloccupation)shecarriedconstantlywithher,andbeganquicklyandgracefullytocommencehertask。Uponheryoungcheeksthetearswerealreadydried,afaintbuthappysmileplayedroundherlips——childlike,indeed,shewassensibleonlyofthejoyofthepresenthour:shewasreconciledtoGlaucus:hehadforgivenher——shewasbesidehim——heplayedcaressinglywithhersilkenhair——hisbreathfannedhercheek——Ione,thecruelIone,wasnotby——noneotherdemanded,divided,hiscare。Yes,shewashappyandforgetful;itwasoneofthefewmomentsinherbriefandtroubledlifethatitwassweettotreasure,torecall。Asthebutterfly,alluredbythewintersun,basksforalittleinthesuddenlight,ereyetthewindawakesandthefrostcomeson,whichshallblastitbeforetheeve——sherestedbeneathabeam,which,bycontrastwiththewontedskies,wasnotchilling;andtheinstinctwhichshouldhavewarnedherofitsbriefness,badeheronlygladdeninitssmile。
  ’Thouhastbeautifullocks,’saidGlaucus。’Theywereonce,Iweenwell,amother’sdelight。’
  Nydiasighed;itwouldseemthatshehadnotbeenbornaslave;butsheevershunnedthementionofherparentage,and,whetherobscureornoble,certainitisthatherbirthwasneverknownbyherbenefactors,norbyanyoneinthosedistantshores,eventothelast。Thechildofsorrowandofmystery,shecameandwentassomebirdthatentersourchamberforamoment;weseeitflutterforawhilebeforeus,weknownotwhenceitflewortowhatregionitescapes。
  Nydiasighed,andafterashortpause,withoutansweringtheremark,said:
  ’ButdoIweavetoomanyrosesinmywreath,Glaucus?Theytellmeitisthyfavoriteflower。’
  ’Andeverfavored,myNydia,beitbythosewhohavethesoulofpoetry:itisthefloweroflove,offestival;itisalsotheflowerwededicatetosilenceandtodeath;itbloomsonourbrowsinlife,whilelifebeworththehaving;itisscatteredaboveoursepulchrewhenwearenomore。’
  ’Ah!would,’saidNydia,’insteadofthisperishablewreath,thatIcouldtakethywebfromthehandoftheFates,andinserttherosesthere!’
  ’Prettyone!thywishisworthyofavoicesoattunedtosong;itisutteredinthespiritofsong;and,whatevermydoom,Ithankthee。’
  ’Whateverthydoom!isitnotalreadydestinedtoallthingsbrightandfair?Mywishwasvain。TheFateswillbeastendertotheeasIshould。’
  ’Itmightnotbeso,Nydia,wereitnotforlove!Whileyouthlasts,Imayforgetmycountryforawhile。ButwhatAthenian,inhisgravermanhood,canthinkofAthensasshewas,andbecontentedthatheishappy,whilesheisfallen?——fallen,andforever?’
  ’Andwhyforever?’
  ’Asashescannotberekindled——asloveoncedeadcanneverrevive,sofreedomdepartedfromapeopleisneverregained。Buttalkwenotofthesemattersunsuitedtothee。’
  ’Tome,oh!thouerrest。I,too,havemysighsforGreece;mycradlewasrockedatthefootofOlympus;thegodshaveleftthemountain,buttheirtracesmaybeseen——seenintheheartsoftheirworshippers,seeninthebeautyoftheirclime:theytellmeitisbeautiful,andIhavefeltitsairs,towhicheventheseareharsh——itssun,towhichtheseskiesarechill。Oh!talktomeofGreece!PoorfoolthatIam,Icancomprehendthee!andmethinks,hadIyetlingeredonthoseshores,hadIbeenaGrecianmaidwhosehappyfateitwastoloveandtobeloved,ImyselfcouldhavearmedmyloverforanotherMarathon,anewPlataea。Yes,thehandthatnowweavestherosesshouldhavewoventheetheolivecrown!’
  ’Ifsuchadaycouldcome!’saidGlaucus,catchingtheenthusiasmoftheblindThessalian,andhalfrising。——’Butno!thesunhasset,andthenightonlybidsusbeforgetful——andinforgetfulnessbegay——weavestilltheroses!’
  ButitwaswithamelancholytoneofforcedgaietythattheAthenianutteredthelastwords:andsinkingintoagloomyreverie,hewasonlywakenedfromit,afewminutesafterwards,bythevoiceofNydia,asshesanginalowtonethefollowingwords,whichhehadoncetaughther:—
  THEAPOLOGYFORPLEASURE
  I
  WhowillassumethebaysThattheherowore?
  WreathsontheTombofDaysGoneevermore!
  Whoshalldisturbthebrave,Oroneleafontheirholygrave?
  Thelaurelisvowedtothem,Leavethebayonitssacredstem!
  Butthis,therose,thefadingrose,Alikeforslaveandfreemangrows。
  II
  IfMemorysitbesidethedeadWithtombsheronlytreasure;
  IfHopeislostandFreedomfled,ThemoreexcuseforPleasure。
  Come,weavethewreath,therosesweave,Theroseatleastisours:
  Tofeebleheartsourfathersleave,Inpityingscorn,theflowers!
  III
  Onthesummit,wornandhoary,OfPhyle’ssolemnhill,Thetrampofthebraveisstill!
  AndstillinthesaddeningMart,Thepulseofthatmightyheart,Whoseverybloodwasglory!
  Glaucopisforsakesherown,Theangrygodsforgetus;
  Butyet,thebluestreamsalong,WalkthefeetofthesilverSong;
  Andthenight—birdwakesthemoon;
  AndthebeesintheblushingnoonHaunttheheartoftheoldHymettus。
  Wearefallen,butnotforlorn,Ifsomethingislefttocherish;
  AsLovewastheearliestborn,SoLoveisthelasttoperish。
  IV
  Wreathethentheroses,wreatheTheBEAUTIFULstillisours,Whilethestreamshallflowandtheskyshallglow,TheBEAUTIFULstillisours!
  Whateverisfair,orsoft,orbright,Inthelapofdayorthearmsofnight,WhispersoursoulofGreece——ofGreece,Andhushesourcarewithavoiceofpeace。
  Wreathethentheroses,wreathe!
  Theytellmeofearlierhours;
  AndIheartheheartofmyCountrybreatheFromthelipsoftheStranger’sflowers。
  ChapterV
  NYDIAENCOUNTERSJULIA。INTERVIEWOFTHEHEATHENSISTERANDCONVERTED
  BROTHER。ANATHENIAN’SNOTIONOFCHRISTIANITY。
  ’WHAThappinesstoIone!whatblisstobeeverbythesideofGlaucus,tohearhisvoice!——Andshetoocanseehim!’
  Suchwasthesoliloquyoftheblindgirl,asshewalkedaloneandattwilighttothehouseofhernewmistress,whitherGlaucushadalreadyprecededher。Suddenlyshewasinterruptedinherfondthoughtsbyafemalevoice。
  ’Blindflower—girl,whithergoestthou?Thereisnopannierunderthinearm;hastthousoldallthyflowers?’
  ThepersonthusaccostingNydiawasaladyofahandsomebutaboldandunmaidenlycountenance:itwasJulia,thedaughterofDiomed。Herveilwashalfraisedasshespoke;shewasaccompaniedbyDiomedhimself,andbyaslavecarryingalanternbeforethem——themerchantandhisdaughterwerereturninghomefromasupperatoneoftheirneighbors’。
  ’Dostthounotremembermyvoice?’continuedJulia。’IamthedaughterofDiomedthewealthy。’
  ’Ah!forgiveme;yes,Irecallthetonesofyourvoice。No,nobleJulia,I
  havenoflowerstosell。’
  ’IheardthatthouwertpurchasedbythebeautifulGreekGlaucus;isthattrue,prettyslave?’askedJulia。
  ’IservetheNeapolitan,Ione,’repliedNydia,evasively。
  ’Ah!anditistrue,then……’
  ’Come,come!’interruptedDiomed,withhiscloakuptohismouth,’thenightgrowscold;Icannotstayherewhileyoupratetothatblindgirl:come,letherfollowyouhome,ifyouwishtospeaktoher。’
  ’Do,child,’saidJulia,withtheairofonenotaccustomedtoberefused;
  ’Ihavemuchtoaskofthee:come。’
  ’Icannotthisnight,itgrowslate,’answeredNydia。’Imustbeathome;I
  amnotfree,nobleJulia。’
  ’What,themeekIonewillchidethee?——Ay,IdoubtnotsheisasecondThalestris。Butcome,then,to—morrow:do——rememberIhavebeenthyfriendofold。’
  ’Iwillobeythywishes,’answeredNydia;andDiomedagainimpatientlysummonedhisdaughter:shewasobligedtoproceed,withthemainquestionshehaddesiredtoputtoNydiaunasked。
  MeanwhilewereturntoIone。TheintervaloftimethathadelapsedthatdaybetweenthefirstandsecondvisitofGlaucushadnotbeentoogailyspent:
  shehadreceivedavisitfromherbrother。SincethenighthehadassistedinsavingherfromtheEgyptian,shehadnotbeforeseenhim。
  Occupiedwithhisownthoughts——thoughtsofsoseriousandintenseanature——theyoungpriesthadthoughtlittleofhissister;intruth,men,perhapsofthatferventorderofmindwhichiseveraspiringaboveearth,arebutlittlepronetotheearthlieraffections;andithadbeenlongsinceApaecideshadsoughtthosesoftandfriendlyinterchangesofthought,thosesweetconfidences,whichinhisearlieryouthhadboundhimtoIone,andwhicharesonaturaltothatendearingconnectionwhichexistedbetweenthem。
  Ione,however,hadnotceasedtoregrethisestrangement:sheattributedit,atpresent,totheengrossingdutiesofhisseverefraternity。Andoften,amidstallherbrighthopes,andhernewattachmenttoherbetrothed——often,whenshethoughtofherbrother’sbrowprematurelyfurrowed,hisunsmilinglip,andbendedframe,shesighedtothinkthattheserviceofthegodscouldthrowsodeepashadowoverthatearthwhichthegodscreated。
  Butthisdaywhenhevisitedhertherewasastrangecalmnessonhisfeatures,amorequietandself—possessedexpressioninhissunkeneyes,thanshehadmarkedforyears。Thisapparentimprovementwasbutmomentary——itwasafalsecalm,whichtheleastbreezecouldruffle。
  ’Maythegodsblessthee,mybrother!’saidshe,embracinghim。
  ’Thegods!Speaknotthusvaguely;perchancethereisbutoneGod!’
  ’Mybrother!’
  ’WhatifthesublimefaithoftheNazarenebetrue?WhatifGodbeamonarch——One——Invisible——Alone?Whatifthesenumerous,countlessdeities,whosealtarsfilltheearth,bebutevildemons,seekingtoweanusfromthetruecreed?Thismaybethecase,Ione!’
  ’Alas!canwebelieveit?orifwebelieved,woulditnotbeamelancholyfaithansweredtheNeapolitan。’What!allthisbeautifulworldmadeonlyhuman!——mountaindisenchantedofitsOread——thewatersoftheirNymph——thatbeautifulprodigalityoffaith,whichmakeseverythingdivine,consecratingthemeanestflowers,bearingcelestialwhispersinthefaintestbreeze——wouldstthoudenythis,andmaketheearthmeredustandclay?No,Apaecides:allthatisbrightestinourheartsisthatverycredulitywhichpeoplestheuniversewithgods。’
  Ioneansweredasabelieverinthepoesyoftheoldmythologywouldanswer。
  WemayjudgebythatreplyhowobstinateandhardthecontestwhichChristianityhadtoendureamongtheheathens。TheGracefulSuperstitionwasneversilent;every,themosthousehold,actionoftheirliveswasentwinedwithit——itwasaportionoflifeitself,astheflowersareapartofthethyrsus。Ateveryincidenttheyrecurredtoagod,everycupofwinewasprefacedbyalibation;theverygarlandsontheirthresholdswerededicatedtosomedivinity;theirancestorsthemselves,madeholy,presidedasLaresovertheirhearthandhall。Soabundantwasbeliefwiththem,thatintheirownclimes,atthishour,idolatryhasneverthoroughlybeenoutrooted:itchangesbutitsobjectsofworship;itappealstoinnumerablesaintswhereonceitresortedtodivinities;anditpoursitscrowds,inlisteningreverence,tooraclesattheshrinesofSt。JanuariusorSt。
  Stephen,insteadoftothoseofIsisorApollo。
  ButthesesuperstitionswerenottotheearlyChristianstheobjectofcontemptsomuchasofhorror。Theydidnotbelieve,withthequietscepticismoftheheathenphilosopher,thatthegodswereinventionsofthepriests;noreven,withthevulgar,that,accordingtothedimlightofhistory,theyhadbeenmortalslikethemselves。Theyimaginedtheheathendivinitiestobeevilspirits——theytransplantedtoItalyandtoGreecethegloomydemonsofIndiaandtheEast;andinJupiterorinMarstheyshudderedattherepresentativeofMolochorofSatan。
  ApaecideshadnotyetadoptedformallytheChristianfaith,buthewasalreadyonthebrinkofit。HealreadyparticipatedthedoctrinesofOlinthus——healreadyimaginedthatthelivelyimaginationsoftheheathenwerethesuggestionsofthearch—enemyofmankind。TheinnocentandnaturalanswerofIonemadehimshudder。Hehastenedtoreplyvehemently,andyetsoconfusedly,thatIonefearedforhisreasonmorethanshedreadedhisviolence。
  ’Ah,mybrother!’saidshe,’theseharddutiesofthinehaveshatteredthyverysense。Cometome,Apaecides,mybrother,myownbrother;givemethyhand,letmewipethedewfromthybrow——chidemenotnow,Iunderstandtheenot;thinkonlythatIonecouldnotoffendthee!’
  ’Ione,’saidApaecides,drawinghertowardshim,andregardinghertenderly,’canIthinkthatthisbeautifulform,thiskindheart,maybedestinedtoaneternityoftorment?’
  ’Diimeliora!thegodsforbid!’saidIone,inthecustomaryformofwordsbywhichhercontemporariesthoughtanomenmightbeaverted。
  Thewords,andstillmorethesuperstitiontheyimplied,woundedtheearofApaecides。Herose,mutteringtohimself,turnedfromthechamber,then,stopping,halfway,gazedwistfullyonIone,andextendedhisarms。
  Ioneflewtotheminjoy;hekissedherearnestly,andthenhesaid:
  ’Farewell,mysister!whenwenextmeet,thoumaystbetomeasnothing;
  takethou,then,thisembrace——fullyetofallthetenderreminiscencesofchildhood,whenfaithandhope,creeds,customs,interests,objects,werethesametous。Now,thetieistobebroken!’
  Withthesestrangewordsheleftthehouse。
  ThegreatandseveresttrialoftheprimitiveChristianswasindeedthis;
  theirconversionseparatedthemfromtheirdearestbonds。Theycouldnotassociatewithbeingswhosecommonestactions,whosecommonestformsofspeech,wereimpregnatedwithidolatry。Theyshudderedattheblessingoflove,totheirearsitwasutteredinademon’sname。This,theirmisfortune,wastheirstrength;ifitdividedthemfromtherestoftheworld,itwastounitethemproportionallytoeachother。TheyweremenofironwhowroughtforththeWordofGod,andverilythebondsthatboundthemwereofironalso!
  GlaucusfoundIoneintears;hehadalreadyassumedthesweetprivilegetoconsole。Hedrewfromherarecitalofherinterviewwithherbrother;butinherconfusedaccountoflanguage,itselfsoconfusedtoonenotpreparedforit,hewasequallyatalosswithIonetoconceivetheintentionsorthemeaningofApaecides。
  ’Hastthoueverheardmuch,’askedshe,’ofthisnewsectoftheNazarenes,ofwhichmybrotherspoke?’
  ’Ihaveoftenheardenoughofthevotaries,’returnedGlaucus,’butoftheirexacttenetsknowInaught,savethatintheirdoctrinethereseemethsomethingpreternaturallychillingandmorose。Theyliveapartfromtheirkind;theyaffecttobeshockedevenatoursimpleusesofgarlands;theyhavenosympathieswiththecheerfulamusementsoflife;theyutterawfulthreatsofthecomingdestructionoftheworld;theyappear,inoneword,tohavebroughttheirunsmilingandgloomycreedoutofthecaveofTrophonius。
  Yet,’continuedGlaucus,afteraslightpause,’theyhavenotwantedmenofgreatpowerandgenius,norconverts,evenamongtheAreopagitesofAthens。
  WelldoIremembertohaveheardmyfatherspeakofonestrangeguestatAthens,manyyearsago;methinkshisnamewasPAUL。MyfatherwasamongstamightycrowdthatgatheredononeofourimmemorialhillstohearthissageoftheEastexpound:throughthewidethrongthererangnotasinglemurmur!——thejestandtheroar,withwhichournativeoratorsarereceived,werehushedforhim——andwhenontheloftiestsummitofthathill,raisedabovethebreathlesscrowdbelow,stoodthismysteriousvisitor,hismienandhiscountenanceawedeveryheart,evenbeforeasoundlefthislips。Hewasaman,Ihaveheardmyfathersay,ofnotallstature,butofnobleandimpressivemien;hisrobesweredarkandample;thedecliningsun,foritwasevening,shoneaslantuponhisformasitrosealoft,motionless,andcommanding;hiscountenancewasmuchwornandmarked,asofonewhohadbravedalikemisfortuneandthesternestvicissitudeofmanyclimes;buthiseyeswerebrightwithanalmostunearthlyfire;andwhenheraisedhisarmtospeak,itwaswiththemajestyofamanintowhomtheSpiritofaGodhathrushed!
  ’"MenofAthens!"heisreportedtohavesaid,"Ifindamongstyeanaltarwiththisinscription:
  TOTHEUNKNOWNGOD。
  YeworshipinignorancethesameDeityIserve。
  Toyouunknowntillnow,toyoubeitnowrevealed。"
  ’ThendeclaredthatsolemnmanhowthisgreatMakerofallthings,whohadappointeduntomanhisseveraltribesandhisvarioushomes——theLordofearthandtheuniversalheaven,dweltnotintemplesmadewithhands;thatHispresence,Hisspirit,wereintheairwebreathed——ourlifeandourbeingwerewithHim。"Thinkyou,"hecried,"thattheInvisibleislikeyourstatuesofgoldandmarble?ThinkyouthatHeneedethsacrificefromyou:Hewhomadeheavenandearth?"Thenspokeheoffearfulandcomingtimes,oftheendoftheworld,ofasecondrisingofthedead,whereofanassurancehadbeengiventomanintheresurrectionofthemightyBeingwhosereligionhecametopreach。
  ’Whenhethusspoke,thelong—pentmurmurwentforth,andthephilosophersthatweremingledwiththepeople,mutteredtheirsagecontempt;theremightyouhaveseenthechillingfrownoftheStoic,andtheCynic’ssneer;andtheEpicurean,whobelievethnoteveninourownElysium,mutteredapleasantjest,andsweptlaughingthroughthecrowd:butthedeepheartofthepeoplewastouchedandthrilled;andtheytrembled,thoughtheyknewnotwhy,forverilythestrangerhadthevoiceandmajestyofamantowhom"TheUnknownGod"hadcommittedthepreachingofHisfaith。’
  Ionelistenedwithwraptattention,andtheseriousandearnestmannerofthenarratorbetrayedtheimpressionthathehimselfhadreceivedfromonewhohadbeenamongsttheaudiencethatonthehilloftheheathenMarshadheardthefirsttidingsofthewordofChrist!
  ChapterVI
  THEPORTER。THEGIRL。ANDTHEGLADIATOR。
  THEdoorofDiomed’shousestoodopen,andMedon,theoldslave,satatthebottomofthestepsbywhichyouascendedtothemansion。ThatluxuriousmansionoftherichmerchantofPompeiiisstilltobeseenjustwithoutthegatesofthecity,atthecommencementoftheStreetofTombs;itwasagayneighborhood,despitethedead。Ontheoppositeside,butatsomeyardsnearerthegate,wasaspacioushostelry,atwhichthosebroughtbybusinessorbypleasuretoPompeiioftenstoppedtorefreshthemselves。Inthespacebeforetheentranceoftheinnnowstoodwagons,andcarts,andchariots,somejustarrived,somejustquitting,inallthebustleofananimatedandpopularresortofpublicentertainment。Beforethedoor,somefarmers,seatedonabenchbyasmallcirculartable,weretalkingovertheirmorningcups,ontheaffairsoftheircalling。Onthesideofthedooritselfwaspaintedgailyandfreshlytheeternalsignofthechequers。Bytheroofoftheinnstretchedaterrace,onwhichsomefemales,wivesofthefarmersabovementioned,were,someseated,someleaningovertherailing,andconversingwiththeirfriendsbelow。Inadeeprecess,atalittledistance,wasacoveredseat,inwhichsometwoorthreepoorertravellerswererestingthemselves,andshakingthedustfromtheirgarments。Ontheothersidestretchedawidespace,originallytheburial—groundofamoreancientracethanthepresentdenizensofPompeii,andnowconvertedintotheUstrinum,orplacefortheburningofthedead。Abovethisrosetheterracesofagayvilla,halfhidbytrees。Thetombsthemselves,withtheirgracefulandvariedshapes,theflowersandthefoliagethatsurroundedthem,madenomelancholyfeatureintheprospect。Hardbythegateofthecity,inasmallniche,stoodthestillformofthewell—disciplinedRomansentry,thesunshiningbrightlyonhispolishedcrest,andthelanceonwhichheleaned。Thegateitselfwasdividedintothreearches,thecentreoneforvehicles,theothersforthefoot—passengers;andoneithersiderosethemassivewallswhichgirtthecity,composed,patched,repairedatathousanddifferentepochs,accordingaswar,time,ortheearthquakehadshatteredthatvainprotection。Atfrequentintervalsrosesquaretowers,whosesummitsbrokeinpicturesquerudenesstheregularlineofthewall,andcontrastedwellwiththemodernbuildingsgleamingwhitelyby。
  Thecurvingroad,whichinthatdirectionleadsfromPompeiitoHerculaneum,woundoutofsightamidsthangingvines,abovewhichfrownedthesullenmajestyofVesuvius。
  ’Hastthouheardthenews,oldMedon?’saidayoungwoman,withapitcherinherhand,asshepausedbyDiomed’sdoortogossipamomentwiththeslave,eresherepairedtotheneighboringinntofillthevessel,andcoquetwiththetravellers。
  ’Thenews!whatnews?’saidtheslave,raisinghiseyesmoodilyfromtheground。
  ’Why,therepassedthroughthegatethismorning,nodoubterethouwertwellawake,suchavisitortoPompeii!’
  ’Ay,’saidtheslave,indifferently。
  ’Yes,apresentfromthenoblePomponianus。’
  ’Apresent!Ithoughtthousaidstavisitor?’
  ’Itisbothvisitorandpresent。Know,Odullandstupid!thatitisamostbeautifulyoungtiger,forourapproachinggamesintheamphitheatre。Hearyouthat,Medon?Oh,whatpleasure!IdeclareIshallnotsleepawinktillIseeit;theysayithassucharoar!’
  ’Poorfool!’saidMedon,sadlyandcynically。
  ’Foolmenofool,oldchurl!Itisaprettything,atiger,especiallyifwecouldbutfindsomebodyforhimtoeat。Wehavenowalionandatiger;
  onlyconsiderthat,Medon!andforwantoftwogoodcriminalsperhapsweshallbeforcedtoseethemeateachother。By—the—by,yoursonisagladiator,ahandsomemanandastrong,canyounotpersuadehimtofightthetiger?Donow,youwouldobligememightily;nay,youwouldbeabenefactortothewholetown。’
  ’Vah!vah!’saidtheslave,withgreatasperity;’thinkofthineowndangererethouthuspratestofmypoorboy’sdeath。’
  ’Myowndanger!’saidthegirl,frightenedandlookinghastilyaround——’Averttheomen!letthywordsfallonthineownhead!’Andthegirl,asshespoke,touchedatalismansuspendedroundherneck。’"Thineowndanger!"whatdangerthreatensme?’
  ’Hadtheearthquakebutafewnightssincenowarning?’saidMedon。’Hasitnotavoice?Diditnotsaytousall,"Preparefordeath;theendofallthingsisathand?"’
  ’Bah,stuff!’saidtheyoungwoman,settlingthefoldsofhertunic。’NowthoutalkestastheysaytheNazarenestalked——methinksthouartoneofthem。Well,Icanpratewiththee,greycroaker,nomore:thougrowestworseandworse——Vale!OHercules,sendusamanforthelion——andanotherforthetiger!’
  Ho!ho!forthemerry,merryshow,Withaforestoffacesineveryrow!
  Lo,theswordsmen,boldasthesonofAlcmena,Sweep,sidebyside,o’erthehushedarena;
  Talkwhileyoumay——youwillholdyourbreathWhentheymeetinthegraspoftheglowingdeath。
  Tramp,tramp,howgailytheygo!
  Ho!ho!forthemerry,merryshow!
  Chantinginasilverandclearvoicethisfeminineditty,andholdinguphertunicfromthedustyroad,theyoungwomansteppedlightlyacrosstothecrowdedhostelry。
  ’Mypoorson!’saidtheslave,halfaloud,’isitforthingslikethisthouarttobebutchered?Oh!faithofChrist,Icouldworshiptheeinallsincerity,wereitbutforthehorrorwhichthouinspirestforthesebloodylists。’
  Theoldman’sheadsankdejectedlyonhisbreast。Heremainedsilentandabsorbed,buteverynowandthenwiththecornerofhissleevehewipedhiseyes。Hisheartwaswithhisson;hedidnotseethefigurethatnowapproachedfromthegatewithaquickstep,andasomewhatfierceandrecklessgaitandcarriage。Hedidnotlifthiseyestillthefigurepausedoppositetheplacewherehesat,andwithasoftvoiceaddressedhimbythenameof:
  ’Father!’
  ’Myboy!myLydon!isitindeedthou?’saidtheoldman,joyfully。’Ah,thouwertpresenttomythoughts。’
  ’Iamgladtohearit,myfather,’saidthegladiator,respectfullytouchingthekneesandbeardoftheslave;’andsoonmayIbealwayspresentwiththee,notinthoughtonly。’
  ’Yes,myson——butnotinthisworld,’repliedtheslave,mournfully。
  ’Talknotthus,Omysire!lookcheerfully,forIfeelso——IamsurethatI
  shallwintheday;andthen,thegoldIgainbuysthyfreedom。Oh!myfather,itwasbutafewdayssincethatIwastaunted,byone,too,whomI
  wouldgladlyhaveundeceived,forheismoregenerousthantherestofhisequals。HeisnotRoman——heisofAthens——byhimIwastauntedwiththelustofgain——whenIdemandedwhatsumwastheprizeofvictory。Alas!helittleknewthesoulofLydon!’
  ’Myboy!myboy!’saidtheoldslave,as,slowlyascendingthesteps,heconductedhissontohisownlittlechamber,communicatingwiththeentrancehall(whichinthisvillawastheperistyle,nottheatrium)——youmayseeitnow;itisthethirddoortotherightonentering。(Thefirstdoorconductstothestaircase;thesecondisbutafalserecess,inwhichtherestoodastatueofbronze。)’Generous,affectionate,piousasarethymotives,’saidMedon,whentheywerethussecuredfromobservation,’thydeeditselfisguilt:thouarttoriskthybloodforthyfather’sfreedom——thatmightbeforgiven;buttheprizeofvictoryisthebloodofanother。oh,thatisadeadlysin;noobjectcanpurifyit。Forbear!
  forbear!ratherwouldIbeaslaveforeverthanpurchaselibertyonsuchterms!’
  ’Hush,myfather!’repliedLydon,somewhatimpatiently;’thouhastpickedupinthisnewcreedofthine,ofwhichIpraytheenottospeaktome,forthegodsthatgavemestrengthdeniedmewisdom,andIunderstandnotonewordofwhatthouoftenpreachesttome——thouhastpickedup,Isay,inthisnewcreed,somesingularfantasiesofrightandwrong。PardonmeifIoffendthee:butreflect!AgainstwhomshallIcontend?Oh!couldstthouknowthosewretcheswithwhom,forthysake,Iassort,thouwouldstthinkI
  purifiedearthbyremovingoneofthem。Beasts,whoseverylipsdropblood;
  things,allsavage,unprincipledintheirverycourage:ferocious,heartless,senseless;notieoflifecanbindthem:theyknownotfear,itistrue——butneitherknowtheygratitude,norcharity,norlove;theyaremadebutfortheirowncareer,toslaughterwithoutpity,todiewithoutdread!Canthygods,whosoevertheybe,lookwithwrathonaconflictwithsuchasthese,andinsuchacause?Oh,Myfather,whereverthepowersabovegazedownonearth,theybeholdnodutysosacred,sosanctifying,asthesacrificeofferedtoanagedparentbythepietyofagratefulson!’
  Thepooroldslave,himselfdeprivedofthelightsofknowledge,andonlylateaconverttotheChristianfaith,knewnotwithwhatargumentstoenlightenanignoranceatoncesodark,andyetsobeautifulinitserror。
  Hisfirstimpulsewastothrowhimselfonhisson’sbreast——hisnexttostartawaytowringhishands;andintheattempttoreprove,hisbrokenvoicelostitselfinweeping。