Part 10 (1/2)
In the pause, as Callias's voice fell, the agony of the people became nigh indescribable. St.u.r.dy veterans who had met the Persian spears at Marathon blinked fast. Many groaned, some cursed. Here and there a bold spirit dared to open his heart to doubt, and to mutter, ”Persian gold, the Pythoness was corrupted,” but quickly hushed even such whispers as rank impiety. Then a voice close to the Bema rang out loudly:-
”And is this all the message, Callias?”
”The voice of Glaucon the Fortunate,” cried many, finding relief in words.
”He is a friend to the amba.s.sador. There is a further prophecy.”
The envoy, who had made his theatrical pause too long, continued:-
”Such, men of Athens, was the answer; and we went forth in dire tribulation. Then a certain n.o.ble Delphian, Timon by name, bade us take the olive branches and return to the Pythoness, saying, 'O King Apollo, reverence these boughs of supplication, and deliver a more comfortable answer concerning our dear country. Else we will not leave thy sanctuary, but stay here until we die.' Whereat the priestess gave us a second answer, gloomy and riddling, yet not so evil as the first.”
Again Callias recited his lines of doom, ”that Athena had vainly prayed to Zeus in behalf of her city, and that it was fated the foe should overrun all Attica, yet
” 'Safe shall the wooden wall continue for thee and thy children; Wait not the tramp of the horse, nor the footmen mightily moving Over the land, but turn your back to the foe, and retire ye.
Yet a day shall arrive when ye shall meet him in battle.
Oh, holy Salamis, thou shalt destroy the offspring of women When men scatter the seed, or when they gather the harvest.' ”
”And that is all?” demanded fifty voices.
”That is all,” and Callias quitted the Bema. Whereupon if agony had held the Pnyx before, perplexity held it now. ”The wooden wall?” ”Holy Salamis?” ”A great battle, but who is to conquer?” The feverish anxiety of the people at length found its vent in a general shout.
”The seers! Call the seers! Explain the oracle!”
The demand had clearly been antic.i.p.ated by the president of the Council.
”Xenagoras the Cerycid is present. He is the oldest seer. Let us hearken to his opinion.”
The head of the greatest priestly family in Athens arose. He was a venerable man, wearing his ribbon-decked robes of office. The president pa.s.sed him the myrtle crown, as token that he had the Bema. In a tense hush his voice sounded clearly.
”I was informed of the oracles before the a.s.sembly met. The meaning is plain. By the 'wooden wall' is meant our s.h.i.+ps. But if we risk a battle, we are told slaughter and defeat will follow. The G.o.d commands, therefore, that without resistance we quit Attica, gathering our wives, our children, and our goods, and sail away to some far country.”
Xenagoras paused with the smile of him who performs a sad but necessary duty, removed the wreath, and descended the Bema.
”Quit Attica without a blow! Our fathers' fathers' sepulchres, the shrines of our G.o.ds, the pleasant farmsteads, the land where our Attic race have dwelt from dimmest time!”
The thought shot chill through the thousands. Men sat in helpless silence, while many a soul, as the gaze wandered up to the temple-crowned Acropolis, asked once, yes twice, ”Is not the yoke of Persia preferable to that?” Then after the silence broke the clamour of voices.
”The other seers! Do all agree with Xenagoras? Stand forth! stand forth!”
Hegias, the ”King Archon,” chief of the state religion, took the Bema. His speech was brief and to the point.
”All the priests and seers of Attica have consulted. Xenagoras speaks for them all save Hermippus of the house of Eumolpus, who denies the others'
interpretation.”
Confusion followed. Men rose, swung their arms, harangued madly from where they stood. The chairman in vain ordered ”Silence!” and was fain to bid the Scythian constables restore order. An elderly farmer thrust himself forward, took the wreath, and poured out his rustic wisdom from the Bema.
His advice was simple. The oracle said ”the wooden wall” would be a bulwark, and by the wooden wall was surely meant the Acropolis which had once been protected by a palisade. Let all Attica shut itself in the citadel and endure a siege.
So far he had proceeded garrulously, but the high-strung mult.i.tude could endure no more. ”_Kataba! Kataba!_” ”Go down! go down!” pealed the yell, emphasized by a shower of pebbles. The elder tore the wreath from his head and fled the Bema. Then out of the confusion came a general cry.
”Cimon, son of Miltiades, speak to us!”