Georg Ebers - Ultimate Collection: 20+ Historical Novels & Short Stories. Georg Ebers

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СКАЧАТЬ To you, Rhodopis, I must come for comfort, for soon, too soon I must leave you and your pleasant house; Philoinus however can still enjoy my mirth, as I cannot but rejoice in the prospect of seeing my beloved Hellas once more, and of quitting, even though involuntarily, this golden mouse-trap of a country.”

      “You are going away! you have been dismissed? Whither are you going?” echoed on all sides.

      “Patience, patience, my friends,” cried Phanes. “I have a long story to tell, but I will rather reserve it for the evening meal. And indeed, dear friend, my hunger is nearly as great as my distress at being obliged to leave you.”

      “Hunger is a good thing,” philosophized the Sybarite once more, “when a man has a good meal in prospect.”

      “On that point you may be at ease, Philoinus,” answered Rhodopis. “I told the cook to do his utmost, for the most celebrated epicure from the most luxurious city in the world, no less a person than Philoinus of Sybaris, would pass a stern judgment on his delicate dishes. Go, Knakias, tell them to serve the supper. Are you content now, my impatient guests? As for me, since I heard Phanes’ mournful news, the pleasure of the meal is gone.” The Athenian bowed, and the Sybarite returned to his philosophy. “Contentment is a good thing when every wish can be satisfied. I owe you thanks, Rhodopis, for your appreciation of my incomparable native city. What says Anakreon?

      “To-day is ours—what do we fear?

       To-day is ours—we have it here.

       Let’s treat it kindly, that it may

       Wish at least with us to stay.

       Let’s banish business, banish sorrow;

       To the gods belongs to-morrow.”

      “Eh! Ibykus, have I quoted your friend the poet correctly, who feasts with you at Polykrates’ banquets? Well, I think I may venture to say of my own poor self that if Anakreon can make better verses, I understand the art of living quite as well as he, though he writes so many poems upon it. Why, in all his songs there is not one word about the pleasures of the table! Surely they are as important as love and play! I confess that the two last are clear to me also; still, I could exist without them, though in a miserable fashion, but without food, where should we be?”

      The Sybarite broke into a loud laugh at his own joke; but the Spartan turned away from this conversation, drew Phryxus into a corner, and quite abandoning his usually quiet and deliberate manner, asked eagerly whether he had at last brought him the long wished for answer from the Oracle. The serious features of the Delphian relaxed, and thrusting his hand into the folds of his chiton,—[An undergarment resembling a shirt.]—he drew out a little roll of parchment-like sheepskin, on which a few lines were written.

      The hands of the brave, strong Spartan trembled as he seized the roll, and his fixed gaze on its characters was as if it would pierce the skin on which they were inscribed.

      Then, recollecting himself, he shook his head sadly and said: “We Spartans have to learn other arts than reading and writing; if thou canst, read the what Pythia says.”

      The Delphian glanced over the writing and replied: “Rejoice! Loxias (Apollo) promises thee a happy return home; hearken to the prediction of the priestess.”

      “If once the warrior hosts from the snow-topped mountains descending

       Come to the fields of the stream watering richly the plain,

       Then shall the lingering boat to the beckoning meadows convey thee

       Which to the wandering foot peace and a home will afford.

       When those warriors come, from the snow-topped mountains descending,

       Then will the powerful Five grant thee what long they refused.”

      To these words the Spartan listened with intense eagerness; he had them read over to him twice, then repeated them from memory, thanked Phryxus, and placed the roll within the folds of his garment.

      The Delphian then took part in the general conversation, but Aristomachus repeated the words of the Oracle unceasingly to himself in a low voice, endeavoring to impress them on his memory, and to interpret their obscure import.

      CHAPTER II.

       Table of Contents

      The doors of the supper-room now flew open. Two lovely, fair-haired boys, holding myrtle-wreaths, stood on each side of the entrance, and in the middle of the room was a large, low, brilliantly polished table, surrounded by inviting purple cushions.

      [It was most probably usual for each guest to have his own little

       table; but we read even in Homer of large tables on which the meals

       were served up. In the time of Homer people sat at table, but the

       recumbent position became universal in later times.]

      Rich nosegays adorned this table, and on it were placed large joints of roast meat, glasses and dishes of various shapes filled with dates, figs, pomegranates, melons and grapes, little silver beehives containing honey, and plates of embossed copper, on which lay delicate cheese from the island of Trinakria. In the midst was a silver table-ornament, something similar to an altar, from which arose fragrant clouds of incense.

      At the extreme end of the table stood the glittering silver cup in which the wine was to be mixed.

      [The Greeks were not accustomed to drink unmingled wine. Zaleukus

       forbade to all citizens the pure juice of the grape under penalty of

       death, and Solon under very severe penalties, unless required as

       medicine. The usual mixture was composed of three-fifths water to

       two-fifths wine.]

      This was of beautiful AEginetan workmanship, its crooked handles representing two giants, who appeared ready to sink under the weight of the bowl which they sustained.

      Like the altar, it was enwreathed with flowers, and a garland of roses or myrtle had been twined around the goblet of each guest.

      The entire floor was strewed with rose-leaves, and the room lighted by many lamps which were hung against the smooth, white, stucco walls.

      No sooner were the guests reclining on their cushions, than the fair-haired boys reappeared, wound garlands of ivy and myrtle around the heads and shoulders of the revellers, and washed their feet in silver basins. The Sybarite, though already scented with all the perfumes of Arabia, would not rest until he was completely enveloped in roses and myrtle, and continued to occupy the two boys even after the carver had removed the first joints from the table in order to cut them up; but as soon as the first course, tunny-fish with mustard-sauce, had been served, he forgot all subordinate matters, and became absorbed in the enjoyment of the delicious viands.

      Rhodopis, seated on a chair at the head of the table, near the wine-bowl, not only led the conversation, but gave directions to the slaves in waiting.

      [The women took their meals sitting. The Greeks, like the

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