The Tales of Ancient Egypt (10 Historical Novels). Georg Ebers
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I answered, and putting myself and my possessions on board a boat, came to Naukratis. Here, by good fortune, I met my old friend Aristomachus of Sparta, who, as he was formerly in command of the Cyprian troops, will most likely be nominated my successor. I should rejoice to know that such a first-rate man was going to take my place, if I did not at the same time fear that his eminent services will make my own poor efforts seem even more insignificant than they really were.”
But here he was interrupted by Aristomachus, who called out: “Praise enough, friend Phanes! Spartan tongues are stiff; but if you should ever stand in need of my help, I will give you an answer in deeds, which shall strike the right nail on the head.”
Rhodopis smiled her approval, and giving her hand to each, said: “Unfortunately, the only conclusion to be drawn from your story, my poor Phanes, is that you cannot possibly remain any longer in this country. I will not blame you for your thoughtlessness, though you might have known that you were exposing yourself to great danger for a mere trifle. The really wise and brave man never undertakes a hazardous enterprise, unless the possible advantage and disadvantage that may accrue to him from it can be reckoned at least as equal. Recklessness is quite as foolish, but not so blamable as cowardice, for though both do the man an injury, the latter alone can dishonor him.
“Your thoughtlessness, this time, has very nearly cost your life, a life dear to many, and which you ought to save for a nobler end. We cannot attempt to keep you here; we should thereby only injure ourselves without benefitting you. This noble Spartan must now take your place as head and representative of the Greek nation at the Egyptian court, must endeavor to protect us against the encroachment of the priests, and to retain for us the royal favor. I take your hand, Aristomachus, and will not let it go till you have promised that you will protect, to the utmost of your power, every Greek, however humble, (as Phanes did before you), from the insolence of the Egyptians, and will sooner resign your office than allow the smallest wrong done to a Hellene to go unpunished. We are but a few thousands among millions of enemies, but through courage we are great, and unity must keep us strong. Hitherto the Greeks in Egypt have lived like brothers; each has been ready to offer himself for the good of all, and all for each, and it is just this unity that has made us, and must keep us, powerful.
“Oh! could we but bestow this precious gift on our mother-country and her colonies! would the tribes of our native land but forget their Dorian, Ionian or AEolian descent, and, contenting themselves with the one name of Hellenes, live as the children of one family, as the sheep of one flock,—then indeed we should be strong against the whole world, and Hellas would be recognized by all nations as the Queen of the Earth!”
[This longing desire for unity was by no means foreign to the
Greeks, though we seldom hear it expressed. Aristotle, for example,
says VII. 7.: “Were the Hellenes united into one state, they could
command all the barbarous nations.”]
A fire glowed in the eyes of the grey-haired woman as she uttered these words; and the Spartan, grasping her hand impetuously and stamping on the floor with his wooden leg, cried: “By Zeus, I will not let a hair of their heads be hurt; but thou, Rhodopis, thou art worthy to have been born a Spartan woman.”
“Or an Athenian,” cried Phanes.
“An Ionian,” said the Milesians, and the sculptor: “A daughter of the Samian Geomori—”
“But I am more, far more, than all these,” cried the enthusiastic woman. “I am a Hellene!”
The whole company, even to the Jew and the Syrian, were carried away by the intense feeling of the moment; the Sybarite alone remained unmoved, and, with his mouth so full as to render the words almost unintelligible, said:
“You deserve to be a Sybarite too, Rhodopis, for your roast beef is the best I have tasted since I left Italy, and your Anthylla wine’ relishes almost as well as Vesuvian or Chian!”
Every one laughed, except the Spartan, who darted a look of indignation and contempt at the epicure.
In this moment a deep voice, hitherto unknown to us, shouted suddenly through the window, “A glad greeting to you, my friends!”
“A glad greeting,” echoed the chorus of revellers, questioning and guessing who this late arrival might prove to be.
They had not long to wait, for even before the Sybarite had had time carefully to test and swallow another mouthful of wine, the speaker, Kallias, the son of Phaenippus of Athens, was already standing by the side of Rhodopis. He was a tall thin man of over sixty, with a head of that oval form which gives the impression of refinement and intellect. One of the richest among the Athenian exiles, he had twice bought the possessions of Pisistratus from the state, and twice been obliged to surrender them, on the tyrant’s return to power. Looking round with his clear keen eyes on this circle of acquaintances, he exchanged friendly greetings with all, and exclaimed:
“If you do not set a high value on my appearance among you this evening, I shall think that gratitude has entirely disappeared from the earth.”
“We have been expecting you a long time,” interrupted one of the Milesians. “You are the first man to bring us news of the Olympic games!”
“And we could wish no better bearer of such news than the victor of former days?” added Rhodopis. “Take your seat,” cried Phanes impatiently, “and come to the point with your news at once, friend Kallias.”
“Immediately, fellow-countryman,” answered the other. “It is some time ago now since I left Olympia. I embarked at Cenchreae in a fifty-oared Samian vessel, the best ship that ever was built.
“It does not surprise me that I am the first Greek to arrive in Naukratis. We encountered terrific storms at sea, and could not have escaped with our lives, if the big-bellied Samian galley, with her Ibis beak and fish’s tail had not been so splendidly timbered and manned.
“How far the other homeward-bound passengers may have been driven out of their course, I cannot tell; we found shelter in the harbor of Samos, and were able to put to sea again after ten days.
“We ran into the mouth of the Nile this morning. I went on board my own bark at once, and was so favored by Boreas, who at least at the end of my voyage, seemed willing to prove that he still felt kindly towards his old Kallias, that I caught sight of this most friendly of all houses a few moments since. I saw the waving flag, the brightly lighted windows, and debated within myself whether to enter or not; but Rhodopis, your fascination proved irresistible, and besides, I was bursting with all my untold news, longing to share your feast, and to tell you, over the viands and the wine, things that you have not even allowed yourselves to dream of.”
Kallias settled himself comfortably on one of the cushions, and before beginning to tell his news, produced and presented to Rhodopis a magnificent gold bracelet in the form of a serpent’s, which he had bought for a large sum at Samos, in the goldsmith’s workshop of the very Theodorus who was now sitting with him at table.
“This I have brought for you,”’ he said, turning to the delighted Rhodopis, “but for you, friend Phanes, I have something still better. Guess, who won the four-horse chariot-race?”
“An Athenian?” asked Phanes, and his face glowed with excitement; for the victory gained by one citizen at the Olympic games belonged to his whole people, and the Olympic olive-branch was the greatest honor and happiness that could fall to the lot, either of a single Hellene, or an entire Greek tribe.
“Rightly guessed, Phanes!” cried the bringer of this joyful news, “The first prize has been carried off by an Athenian; and not only so, your own cousin Cimon, the son of Kypselos, the brother of that Miltiades, who, nine Olympiads ago, earned us the same honor, is the man who has conquered this year; and with the same steeds that gained him the prize at the last games.
[The second triumph won by the steeds of Cimon must have taken
place, as Duneker correctly remarks, about the year 528. The same
horses won the race for the third time