Part 9 (2/2)

”But what can I do?” groaned Pisander, bursting into tears, and wis.h.i.+ng for the instant Epicureans, Stoics, Eclectics, Peripatetics, and every other school of learning in the nethermost Hades.

”_Phui!_ Fudge!” cried Arsinoe. ”What is life made for then, if a man who has spent all his days studying it is as good as helpless! Look at me! Have I not hands, feet, a head, and wits? Am I not as well informed and naturally capable as three fine ladies out of every four?

Would I not look as handsome as they, if I had a chance to wear their dresses and jewels? Have I any blemish, any defect, that makes me cease to be a woman, and become a thing? Bah, master _Pisander!_ I am only a slave, but I will talk. Why does my blood boil at the fate of Agias, if it was not meant that it should heat up for some end? And yet I am as much a piece of property of that woman whom I hate, as this chair or casket. I have a right to no hope, no ambition, no desire, no reward. I can only aspire to live without brutal treatment.

That would be a sort of Elysium. If I was brave enough, I would kill myself, and go to sleep and forget it all. But I am weak and cowardly, and so--here I am.”

Pisander only groaned and went away to his room to turn over his Aristotle, and wonder why nothing in the ”Nicomachean Ethics” or any other learned treatise contained the least word that made him contented over the fate of Agias or his own unhappy situation. Arsinoe and Semiramis, when he went from them, cried, and cried again, in pity and helpless grief at their whole situation. And so a considerable number of days pa.s.sed. Calatinus could have given joy to the hearts of several in his household if he had simply remembered that Agias had not been scourged to death, but sold. But Calatinus feared, now that he was well out of the matter, to stir up an angry scene with his wife, by hinting that Agias had not been punished according to her orders. Alfidius, too, and the other slaves with him, imagined that his mistress would blame them if they admitted that Agias was alive.

So the household gathered, by the silence of all concerned, that the bright Greek boy had long since pa.s.sed beyond power of human torment.

Pisander recovered part of his equanimity, and Arsinoe and Semiramis began to see life a shade less darkened.

Pratinas occasionally repeated his morning calls upon Valeria. He seemed much engrossed with business, but was always the same suave, elegant, accomplished personage that had endeared him to that lady's heart. One morning he came in, in unusually good spirits.

”Congratulate me,” he exclaimed, after saluting Valeria; ”I have disposed of a very delicate piece of work, and my mind can take a little rest. At least I have roughly chiselled out the matter, as a sculptor would say, and can now wait a bit before finis.h.i.+ng. Ah! what elegant study is this which is engrossing your ladys.h.i.+p this morning?”

”Pisander is reading from the works of Gorgias of Leontini,” said Valeria, languidly.

”To be sure,” went on Pratinas; ”I have always had the greatest respect for the three nihilistic propositions of that philosopher. To read him one is half convinced of the affirmation that nothing exists; that if anything existed, the fact could not be known, and that if the fact were known, it could not be communicated; although of course, my dear madam, there are very grave objections to accepting such views in their fulness.”

”Of course,” echoed Valeria. ”Pisander, read Pratinas that little poem of Archilochus, whose sentiment I so much admired, when I happened on it yesterday.”

Pisander fumbled among his rolls, then read, perhaps throwing a bit of sarcasm into his tone:--

”Gyges'[67] wealth and honours great Come not nigh to me!

Heavenly pow'r, or tyrant's state, I'll not envy thee.

Swift let any sordid prize Fade and vanish from my eyes!”

[67] A Lydian king whose wealth was placed on a par with that of the better known Croesus.

”Your ladys.h.i.+p,” said Pratinas, appearing entranced by the lines, ”is ever in search of the pearls of refined expression!”

”I wish,” said Valeria, whose mind ran from Gorgias to Archilochus, and then back to quite foreign matters, with lightning rapidity, ”you would tell Kallias, the sculptor, that the head-dress on my statue in the atrium must be changed. I don't arrange my hair that way any longer. He must put on a new head-dress without delay.”[68]

[68] Such alterations were actually made in Rome.

”Certainly,” a.s.sented the Greek.

”And now,” said the lady, half entreating, half insinuating, ”_you must_ tell me what has made you so abstracted lately; that business you mentioned, which compelled you to restrict your calls.”

”My dear Valeria,” said Pratinas, casting a glance over at Pisander in his corner, ”I dislike mysteries; but perhaps there are some things which I had better not reveal to any one. Don't be offended, but--”

”I am offended,” exclaimed the lady, striking her lap with her hands, ”and I accept no '_buts_.' I will be as silent about all your affairs as about the mysteries of the _Bona Dea_.[69]”

[69] To whose mysteries only women were admitted.

”I believe I can be confident you will not betray me,” said Pratinas, who in fact considered precautions that were necessary to take among so blundering and thick-witted people as the Latins, almost superfluous. He muttered to himself, ”I wouldn't dare to do this in Alexandria,--prate of a murder,--” and then glanced again toward Pisander.

”Pisander,” said Valeria, sharply, noting Pratinas's disquietude, ”go out of the room. I don't need you at present.”

<script>