CHAPTER V
THE BANQUET
On their way from the Theatre, Clearchus informed his friends of hisdecision to be married on the morrow.
"Then we must feast to-night!" Chares cried promptly.
"Very well," Clearchus said, "but you will have to make thearrangements for me, as I have other things to do."
"Aristotle will take charge of the food and wine," said the Theban,eagerly, "if he is willing to assume such a responsibility; and I willprovide the entertainment and send out the invitations. What do yousay?"
"Good," Clearchus replied; "that is, if Aristotle agrees."
"I am willing," said the Stagirite.
"It is settled, then," Chares declared. "Come, Leonidas, I shall needyour help. Let us get to work."
It was hardly sunset when the guests who had been bidden by Charesbegan to assemble at the house of Clearchus. A crimson awning had beendrawn over the peristylium and the soft light of scores of lamps shoneupward against it. Shrubs and flowering plants partly hid the marblecolumns. Medean carpets had been spread upon the floor. The tables,each with its soft couch, had been arranged in two parallel lines,joined at one end by those set for the host and the most honored of theguests. At the farther end of the space thus enclosed a fountain flungup a stream that sparkled with variegated colors.
All had been prepared under the direction of Aristotle in such a manneras to gratify the senses without jarring upon the most sensitive taste.The masses of color and the contrasts of light and shade were groupedwith subtle skill to create a pleasing impression. Slaves walkednoiselessly across the hall, appearing and vanishing in the wall offoliage, bearing dishes of gold and of silver and flagons filled withrare wines. Softly, as from a distance, sounded the music of flutesand citharse.
Clearchus and his guests, crowned with wreaths of myrtle, reclined uponthe couches. Their talk ran chiefly upon the events of the day and thecontest of oratory in the Assembly.
"You Athenians ought to pass a law banishing all your speakers," Charesdrawled. "Then there might be some chance that you would adopt apolicy and stick to it. As it is, the infernal skill of these menmakes you believe first one thing and then another, until you end bynot knowing what to think."
"You mean we have plenty of counsellors but no counsel," Clearchusreplied.
"That's it, exactly," Chares said. "And that man, Demosthenes, willbring you to grief yet, some day."
"All your states have had their turn of power," Aristotle said, "andnone has been able to keep it. There is another day coming and it willbe the day of the Macedonian. He dreams of making you all one."
"Let him keep away from my country with his dreams," Leonidas remarked.
"There spoke the lion!" laughed Clearchus. "Stubborn to the last."
"Did you hear what old Phocion said when he came out of the Theatre?"asked a young man with a shrill voice who sat on the right.
"No; what was it?" Clearchus inquired.
"Demosthenes wanted to know what he thought of his oration," thenarrator said. "You know Demosthenes likes to hear himself praised andhe would almost give his right hand for a compliment from Phocion, the'pruner of his periods,' as he calls him. 'It was only indifferent,'the old fellow told him, 'but good enough to cost you your life.' Youshould have seen how pale Demosthenes grew; but Phocion put his hand onhis shoulder and said, 'Never mind; for this once, I think I can savethee.'"
"They say Phocion is an honest man," Chares remarked.
"So he is," Aristotle replied. "And one of few."
The young men who had assembled to honor the occasion listened eagerlyto every word that fell from the lips of the man whose keen deductionsand daring speculations had begun to open new pathways in every branchof human wisdom. The rivalry between the philosophers in Athens waseven more keen than that between the orators, and each had his schoolof partisans and defenders.
"Honesty is truth," said Porphyry, a young follower of Xenocrates, whohad succeeded Plato in the Academy. "But what is truth? Have youPeripatetics discovered it yet?"
"We are seeking, at least," Aristotle replied dryly, feeling that anattempt was being made to entrap him.
"Democritus holds that truth does not exist," Porphyry ventured,unabashed.
"Yes, and Protagoras maintains that we are the measure of all thingsand that everything is true or false, as we will," the Stagiriterejoined. "They are unfortunate, for if there were no truth, therewould be no world. As for the Sceptics, they have not the courage oftheir doctrines; for which of them, being in Libya and conceivinghimself to be in Athens, would think of trying to walk into the Odeum?And when they fall sick, do they not summon a physician instead oftrusting to some person who is ignorant of healing to cure them? Thosewho search for truth with their eyes and hands only shall never findit, for there are truths which are none the less true because we cannotsee nor feel them, and these are the greatest of all."
"We might know the truth at last if we could find out what animatesnature," Clearchus said. "Why do flowers grow and bloom? Why do birdsfly and fishes swim?"
"The marble statues of the Parthenon would have remained blocks ofstone forever had not Phidias cut them out," Aristotle responded. "Itwas Empedocles who taught us that earth, air, fire, and water must formthe limits of our knowledge; but who believes him now?"
"Do you hold, then, with Anaxagoras of Clazomene, that all things aredirected by a divine mind?" Porphyry asked.
This question was followed by a sudden hush while Aristotle consideredhis answer. All present had heard whispers that the Stagirite in histeaching was introducing new Gods and denying the power of the olddivinities. This was the crime for which Socrates had been put todeath and Pericles himself had found it difficult to save Aspasia fromthe same fate when a similar charge was preferred against her.Aristotle felt his danger, for he knew that the jealous and powerfulpriesthood would be glad to catch him tripping, as indeed it did inlater years.
"It was Hermotimus, I think, who first proposed that doctrine," he saidslowly, "and I have noticed that Anaxagoras employs it only when noother explanation of what he sees is left him."
There was a murmur of applause at this reply, which suggested thenecessity for supposing the existence of an overruling intelligencewithout committing the philosopher to such a belief. The youngAcademician seemed crestfallen, but by common consent the topic wasabandoned as too dangerous and the conversation became more general.
Clearchus could not wholly conceal the anxiety that filled his mind.He started at every unexpected sound and turned his face toward theentrance, where he had posted a slave with orders to bring him wordinstantly should any message for him arrive. His mood did not escapehis friends, who, without knowing the reason for it, urged wine uponhim in the hope of raising his spirits and for the same reasonthemselves drank more freely than usual.
Chares had promised something new in the way of amusement, but herefused to tell what it was to be. Consequently there was a flutter ofexpectation when the attendants removed the last course, washing thehands of the guests for the seventh time, and leaving only wine andsweetmeats before them.
First came a Scythian with a trained bear, which performed a series offamiliar tricks. Aristotle watched the animal with the most minuteattention, directing notice to several of its characteristics andexplaining their meaning. The music then struck into a louder andlivelier air and six young girls, in floating garments of brillianthue, performed a graceful dance of intricate figure. There was nonovelty in this and Chares became the target for good-naturedreproaches, which he received smilingly. The dancing girls gave placeto a swarthy Indian juggler, whose feats of magic delighted thespectators and evoked cries of wonder and admiration.
As the juggler retired gravely, it was noticed that Aristotle, unusedto so much wine, had dropped quietly off to sleep. By command ofClearchus, two stalwart slaves carried him away to bed, while hiscompanions at the board drank his health.
"All th
is is very well, Chares," Porphyry complained, "but I thoughtyou were going to show us something new."
"Pour a libation to Aphrodite!" the Theban replied, sprinkling a fewdrops from his goblet and draining what remained.
The others followed his example, nothing loath.
From behind a mass of blossoms came a young woman and stood before thesparkling fountain with her chin slightly raised and a smile upon herlips. She wore a chiton of shimmering, transparent fabric from thelooms of Amorgos. The coils of her tawny hair were held in place byjewelled pins which were her only adornment. There was a confidentexpression of sensuous content on her face and a slight smile partedher lips as she saw the involuntary admiration that she inspired.
Through the golden cobweb that covered without hiding it, her firmflesh glowed warmly. The curves of her shoulders and breast and therounded fulness of her lithe limbs were as perfect as a statue. AsClearchus gazed upon her with the delight in pure beauty which was sostrong in him, he was beset by an elusive sense of familiarity forwhich he tried in vain to find some explanation. He was certain thathe had never seen the girl before. Had there been nothing else toassure him of this, he knew that he never would have forgotten hereyes. Like the eyes of a predatory animal, they shot back the light inreflected gleams of fleeting topaz.
Crouched at her side lay a leopard, his body pressed flat against therich carpet in which her white feet were buried. He wore a goldencollar with a slender chain, the end of which she held between herfingers. The beast glanced restlessly from side to side in his strangesurroundings, twitching his tail with nervous uneasiness.
In the light that bathed her from head to foot, the young woman posedfor a moment to allow the spectators to feel the full effect of herbeauty.
"Thais! Thais!" cried several of the guests, in accents of intenseastonishment.
"Is it really Thais?" Clearchus asked, turning to Chares. "How did youever persuade her to come?"
The Theban smiled, but made no reply. Thais had only recently begun toattract attention, but her fame had already eclipsed that of otherpopular favorites in Athens. Sculptors and painters had declared herthe most beautiful woman in all Hellas. Poets had made verses in herhonor, likening her to Hebe and Aphrodite. Her house was throngeddaily with the youth of fashion. She had become the latest sensationin a city greedy for all that was new.
Little was known of her beyond the fact that she had been reared andeducated in all the accomplishments of her profession by old Eunomus,one of the most skilful of all the Athenian dealers in flesh and blood.Where he had found her he refused to tell. Everybody had heard thatAlcmaeon had purchased her freedom a short time before his death, payingEunomus half her weight in gold, and that he had made comfortableprovision for her when his last illness seized him and he knew that hemust die. The only regret that he had expressed was that he must leaveher behind him.
Left in an independent position, Thais had shown herself capricious.None of the young men who hung about her could boast of any successes.A few had ruined themselves in their efforts to gain her favor, and onehad even drunk hemlock and crept to her door to die. Clearchus,although he had never before seen her, had heard enough of her to feelastonished at her presence. He could not understand how Chares hadbeen able to induce her to come, like a mere dancing girl, for theiramusement, unless he had offered her an enormous sum of money. Knowingthe reckless character of his friend, the thought alarmed him.
"You have ruined yourself!" he whispered to the Theban. "What did youpromise the woman?"
"Not an obol, on my honor, O youth of simple heart!" Chares replied,laughing.
"Then how did you get her to come?" Clearchus asked. "You do not knowher."
"I invited her," Chares replied; "and she accepted. I suppose it was awoman's whim. I did not ask her."
Slaves ran forward with a number of sword blades set in blocks of woodin such a manner as to enable them to stand upright. These theyarranged symmetrically upon the carpet at equal distances from eachother, so as to form a lozenge pattern with its point toward Thais.Dropping the end of the chain by which she held the leopard, as themusic changed to a rhythmic cadence, the young woman began to tread inand out between the swords. Her movements were so light and gracefulthat she seemed hardly to touch the carpet, threading her way from sideto side to the quickening measure. The leopard crept closer to theline of steel and watched her with glowing eyes. Faster and fastergrew the measure, and faster grew her motions, until she was whirlingamong the blades, which flickered like blue flames as her shadowintercepted the light. A misstep would have sent her down to her deathupon one of the points which she seemed to regard no more than if theyhad been so many flowers. The company watched her with a suspense thatwas breathless. Suddenly the music ceased, and she stood before themunharmed at the upper point of the lozenge. There was a glow on hercheeks and her bosom panted from her exertions. The guests broke intocries of admiration, casting their wreaths of myrtle at her feet; butshe had eyes only for Chares, who lay looking at her with a lazy smile.She frowned and bit her lip.
"Did I not do it well?" she demanded.
"Excellently well," Chares replied.
"Is that all?" she asked in a tone of disappointment.
Before he could make any reply there came a frantic knocking at thedoor outside the house. Clearchus started forward with an exclamationof alarm. The man whom he had placed on guard ran in, terror stricken,followed by Tolman, one of the slaves from Melissa's house in Academe.
"Oh, my master!" Tolman cried, throwing himself at the feet ofClearchus.
"Artemisia!" the young man demanded.
"They have carried her off," Tolman said, "and Philox, the steward, isslain!"
"Horses, Cleon! Bring swords and armor!" Clearchus shouted.
"Who has done this?" Chares asked.
"I know not," Clearchus replied; "we were forewarned; but it would bebetter for them had they never been born."
"Fetch me a jar of water," Chares cried, pushing aside the guests, whohad left their places and were crowding around Clearchus to learn thenews. When a slave brought a jar of cold water, the Theban plunged hishead into it to clear his brain and shook off the drops from his yellowhair. "Now my armor!" he said.
Leonidas was already occupied in putting on the light accoutrement of ahorseman, and, although he said nothing, there was a look of expectantjoy on his harsh face.
Thais, who had drawn to one side, stood for a moment, and then seeingthat she had been forgotten, slipped away unnoticed. Some of theguests hastened to their homes to arm themselves and follow the threefriends, while others remained behind to discuss the event. Clearchussaid a hasty farewell, and in a few moments from the arrival of theslave the three young men, followed by Cleon, were racing down to thecity gate.
Into the open country they dashed, Clearchus leading the way, while theothers spurred madly in their effort to keep pace with him. The sunhad not yet risen when they wheeled into the gateway and drew rein atMelissa's villa. The place seemed deserted, for the terrified servantshad closed and barred the doors, fearing a renewal of the attack. Itwas several minutes before they were able to gain an entrance.
The frightened women pressed around Clearchus, wailing and beatingtheir breasts and trying all at once to tell him the story of what hadhappened. The young man waved them aside and ran to the room wherePhilox lay. The faithful old steward had received a dagger thrust inthe breast and was unconscious. Clearchus then sought Melissa; but inthe extremity of her fright she had locked herself in her apartmentsand refused to open the door.
Finding that nothing was to be learned in that quarter, Clearchussternly commanded the women to be silent and answer his questions.Trembling, they obeyed, and he managed to make them tell how themarauders had scaled the walls of the house with a ladder and howPhilox had fallen while trying to prevent them from admitting theirconfederates. They had pillaged the house of everything that theycould carry. Artemisia h
ad fainted when they laid their hands upon herto take her away, but they had placed her in a litter which they seemedto have ready for the purpose. As nearly as the women were able tojudge, they had gone southward, and as soon as they were out of sight,Tolman had ridden to the city to give the alarm.
"They are making for the harbor," Leonidas cried. "We shall catch themyet!"
Clearchus felt two small cold hands clasp his own, and glancing down hesaw Proxena, one of Artemisia's little slave girls, with hertear-stained face upturned to his.
"Please, master," she sobbed, "bring back our mistress, Artemisia!"
The young Athenian could not speak, but he lifted the child quickly andkissed her. In another moment they were off in the pursuit.