As e’er of old, the human brow;
And copies still the martial1 form
That braved Platæa’s battle storm.”
William Cullen Bryant.
Artabazus’ steps were directed to the tent of the women. With heavy tread he strode in the panoply2 of war. At the corner of the tent his foot came in rough contact with a soft object and to his amazement3 he discovered it to be the body of his guard. A hasty examination assured him that the body was lifeless. Filled with forebodings, he hastily parted the flaps and gazed within the tent. His eyes first fell upon the prostrate4 form of his eunuch, then with a swift glance he surveyed the women, and he knew what had taken place during his absence.
White with fury he cried, “Where is the Greek girl?”
His appearance in his wrathful state was so forbidding that not one of the women ventured to make reply. Upon receiving no response, Artabazus turned to Phædime, whereupon his favorite, with an assumption of her usual self assurance, made bold to answer.
81
“A Persian officer killed the guard, bound Amorges here, and bore Ladice away with him. Is it not so?” Phædime turned to her fair companions to confirm her words, confident in her position as favorite.
All readily affirmed the escape as stated by Phædime with the exception of a small oval-faced beauty with shining black hair and ruddy lips, that would not refuse to smile at her master even in his state of demoniac anger.
“What say you, Parysatis?” questioned the officer, noting her refusal to corroborate5 Phædime’s words.
“If my master would know the truth,” smiled Parysatis, “Phædime herself allowed the Greek girl to be taken away.”
An ominous6 silence of horror pervaded7 the tent for a moment while all eyes were turned to Artabazus, who in livid rage seized the hapless Phædime.
“You are hurting me,” she cried in abject8 terror. “Can you not know that what I did was because of love for you? Oh, my Artabazus, if you but commanded it, I would crawl from here to the Hellespont, where I long to cross with you back to the land where we meet no Greeks either in warfare9 or in love.”
The Persian commander laughed wildly, a laugh that froze the blood in the veins10 of his hearers. “You will never cross the Hellespont nor even leave this tent alive!”
There was a flash of gleaming steel, a hissing11 sound, and the headless trunk of the Persian beauty sank before its murderer.
* * * * * * * *
During the time that Zopyrus and Ladice made good their escape from the Persian encampment and were beginning to pursue their precarious12 way across Mt. Cithæron, the Greek encampment lay in the stillness of sleep. Above the tents rose the gentle, picturesque13 slope of the mountain, where beyond the space which had been cleared, the forest stretched in black silence.
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In one of the tents well toward the forest edge of the encampment, three young men sat around a small table upon which a candle sent forth14 its flickering15 light. Presently one of them arose with an impatient gesture and strode back and forth with restless energy.
“What ails16 you, Cimon?” questioned one of the two who were seated. He was a thin wiry fellow, whose face showed the tan of continued exposure to the elements. His nose was aquiline17, his lips thin and his eye penetrating18, but withal, kindly19.
“Nothing new, Icetes, but before tomorrow’s battle I should like to know if Ladice is confined in the harem of one of the Persian leaders as I have heard.”
“Wait till the battle is over, and if Zeus grants us the victory, demand the return of the girl. The harems of the Persians will be ours then, and to such a brave soldier as you have proved yourself to be, Pausanias will gladly give first choice of the spoils,” said Icetes, rising from his chair and placing a friendly hand upon the other’s shoulder.
Cimon smiled wanly20. “Perhaps you are right, my friend,” he acquiesced21 “but you can not know how I suffer! Has Eros never found you vulnerable here?” Cimon placed both hands upon his heart and smiled with a questioning glance at Icetes.
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“If Eros has ever found him so, it was not for the love of a maiden22 who possesses a heart of stone as does this Ladice whom you adore,” remarked the third youth who up till the present moment had remained a silent observing listener.
“Be still, Ephialtes,” said Icetes gruffly. “Cimon suffers enough without your reproaches.”
“Let him suffer,” said the youth indifferently. “If he wants her badly enough let him go to the Persian encampment and get her! He does not know nor do you, Icetes, what the result of tomorrow’s struggle will be. What if the enemy comes out victorious23 and the Persian leader carries the fair Ladice across the Hellespont? No doubt she has already yielded to his kisses and is beginning to enjoy the luxurious24 ease of an oriental harem. Women are—”
With an oath Cimon rushed at Ephialtes, but Icetes interposed himself.
“My friends,” he pled in a hoarse25 whisper, “your altercation26 will be heard by Pausanias himself. Let us sit down quietly again and maybe we can arrive at a definite conclusion.”
Icetes and Ephialtes seated themselves, but Cimon began to put on his armor piece by piece till he stood before them fully27 armed. They watched him wonderingly but ventured no inquiry28. Then he strode toward the entrance and turning to face them, said, “I am going to find Ladice and bring her back.”
Ephialtes smiled in a contemptuous manner, but Icetes was on his feet in an instant.
84
“By Zeus,” he cried, “you shall not attempt such a rash undertaking29. You, the son of the brave Miltiades, are needed for the morrow’s battle. Your counsel and advice are indispensable. Next to Pausanias we need you, just you, to show these barbarians30 that they can no longer abide31 within our borders. Think of it, my brave Cimon, Mardonius killed and the other leaders routed at Platæa! Make it the last battle of the last war with them! Don’t leave us at this critical period to satisfy a personal longing32. Your father did that, Cimon, but not till he had fought Marathon!”
The words of Icetes had an enervating33 effect upon Cimon. He drooped34 perceptibly and then slowly he began to disarm35. When the last piece of armor had been cast aside, he dropped into his chair again, and folding his arms upon the table, buried his face in them. His broad shoulders heaved, and in the silence that followed, an occasional groan36 was heard. Even Ephialtes’ supercilious37 air left him in the presence of this real grief of a fellow-man.
Cimon’s agony was too much for the kind-hearted Icetes. Rising and bending above the bowed form of the son of Miltiades, Icetes said in earnest tones. “Let me go this night and search for Ladice. I am acquainted with her father, Mamercus, who as you know perished at Salamis, probably unknown to his daughter who will now be alone if she returns to Athens.”
Cimon made a sign of remonstrance38 before he was able to speak. “No, my friend,” he said, when he had found voice, “I can not think of endangering the life of another in the performance of a task which concerns me so personally. I will give up what you consider a foolish enterprise, but I fear I have lost the zest39 for the morrow’s battle.”
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“I will go for you Cimon,” Icetes cried eagerly, as he went for his armor, “My part in tomorrow’s conflict will be indirect, but it will be a vital part nevertheless. If by putting heart in you through this service, I thus enable you to fight bravely tomorrow, I shall indeed feel that I have helped to expel the Persians from Greece.”
Cimon saw that opposition40 was useless. His eyes met for an instant the ironical41 gaze of Ephialtes.
“I imagine that rendering42 a real service to a fellow-man is quite foreign to your nature, Ephialtes,” Cimon could not resist saying.
“On the contrary,” replied the young Greek unruffled, “I recently rendered a very great service to a very illustrious person.”
“And no doubt you were handsomely paid for your efforts, the agreement having been made before hand,” answered Cimon as he rose to bid farewell to Icetes who stood ready to take his leave.
The sight of the brave fellow clad in the panoply of war, about to risk his life for a friend, moved Cimon deeply. Words seemed inadequate43 to convey the gratitude44 he felt. The two parted after a warm embrace.
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1
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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2
panoply
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| n.全副甲胄，礼服 | |
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3
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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corroborate
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| v.支持，证实，确定 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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7
pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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10
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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11
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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12
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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13
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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14
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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15
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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16
ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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17
aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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18
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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19
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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20
wanly
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| adv.虚弱地；苍白地，无血色地 | |
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21
acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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23
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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24
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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25
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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26
altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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27
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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28
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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29
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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30
barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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31
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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32
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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33
enervating
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| v.使衰弱，使失去活力( enervate的现在分词 ) | |
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34
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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36
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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37
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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38
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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39
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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40
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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41
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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42
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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43
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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44
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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