第15章

ThepoorgirldelightedlysatdownbesideGlaucus。Shedrewfromhergirdleaballofthemany—coloredthreads，orratherslenderribands，usedintheweavingofgarlands，andwhich（foritwasherprofessionaloccupation）shecarriedconstantlywithher，andbeganquicklyandgracefullytocommencehertask。Uponheryoungcheeksthetearswerealreadydried，afaintbuthappysmileplayedroundherlips——childlike，indeed，shewassensibleonlyofthejoyofthepresenthour：shewasreconciledtoGlaucus：hehadforgivenher——shewasbesidehim——heplayedcaressinglywithhersilkenhair——hisbreathfannedhercheek——Ione，thecruelIone，wasnotby——noneotherdemanded，divided，hiscare。Yes，shewashappyandforgetful；itwasoneofthefewmomentsinherbriefandtroubledlifethatitwassweettotreasure，torecall。Asthebutterfly，alluredbythewintersun，basksforalittleinthesuddenlight，ereyetthewindawakesandthefrostcomeson，whichshallblastitbeforetheeve——sherestedbeneathabeam，which，bycontrastwiththewontedskies，wasnotchilling；andtheinstinctwhichshouldhavewarnedherofitsbriefness，badeheronlygladdeninitssmile。

’Thouhastbeautifullocks，’saidGlaucus。’Theywereonce，Iweenwell，amother’sdelight。’

Nydiasighed；itwouldseemthatshehadnotbeenbornaslave；butsheevershunnedthementionofherparentage，and，whetherobscureornoble，certainitisthatherbirthwasneverknownbyherbenefactors，norbyanyoneinthosedistantshores，eventothelast。Thechildofsorrowandofmystery，shecameandwentassomebirdthatentersourchamberforamoment；weseeitflutterforawhilebeforeus，weknownotwhenceitflewortowhatregionitescapes。

Nydiasighed，andafterashortpause，withoutansweringtheremark，said：

’ButdoIweavetoomanyrosesinmywreath，Glaucus？Theytellmeitisthyfavoriteflower。’

’Andeverfavored，myNydia，beitbythosewhohavethesoulofpoetry：itisthefloweroflove，offestival；itisalsotheflowerwededicatetosilenceandtodeath；itbloomsonourbrowsinlife，whilelifebeworththehaving；itisscatteredaboveoursepulchrewhenwearenomore。’

’Ah！would，’saidNydia，’insteadofthisperishablewreath，thatIcouldtakethywebfromthehandoftheFates，andinserttherosesthere！’

’Prettyone！thywishisworthyofavoicesoattunedtosong；itisutteredinthespiritofsong；and，whatevermydoom，Ithankthee。’

’Whateverthydoom！isitnotalreadydestinedtoallthingsbrightandfair？Mywishwasvain。TheFateswillbeastendertotheeasIshould。’

’Itmightnotbeso，Nydia，wereitnotforlove！Whileyouthlasts，Imayforgetmycountryforawhile。ButwhatAthenian，inhisgravermanhood，canthinkofAthensasshewas，andbecontentedthatheishappy，whilesheisfallen？——fallen，andforever？’

’Andwhyforever？’

’Asashescannotberekindled——asloveoncedeadcanneverrevive，sofreedomdepartedfromapeopleisneverregained。Buttalkwenotofthesemattersunsuitedtothee。’

’Tome，oh！thouerrest。I，too，havemysighsforGreece；mycradlewasrockedatthefootofOlympus；thegodshaveleftthemountain，buttheirtracesmaybeseen——seenintheheartsoftheirworshippers，seeninthebeautyoftheirclime：theytellmeitisbeautiful，andIhavefeltitsairs，towhicheventheseareharsh——itssun，towhichtheseskiesarechill。Oh！talktomeofGreece！PoorfoolthatIam，Icancomprehendthee！andmethinks，hadIyetlingeredonthoseshores，hadIbeenaGrecianmaidwhosehappyfateitwastoloveandtobeloved，ImyselfcouldhavearmedmyloverforanotherMarathon，anewPlataea。Yes，thehandthatnowweavestherosesshouldhavewoventheetheolivecrown！’

’Ifsuchadaycouldcome！’saidGlaucus，catchingtheenthusiasmoftheblindThessalian，andhalfrising。——’Butno！thesunhasset，andthenightonlybidsusbeforgetful——andinforgetfulnessbegay——weavestilltheroses！’

ButitwaswithamelancholytoneofforcedgaietythattheAthenianutteredthelastwords：andsinkingintoagloomyreverie，hewasonlywakenedfromit，afewminutesafterwards，bythevoiceofNydia，asshesanginalowtonethefollowingwords，whichhehadoncetaughther：—

THEAPOLOGYFORPLEASURE

I

WhowillassumethebaysThattheherowore？

WreathsontheTombofDaysGoneevermore！

Whoshalldisturbthebrave，Oroneleafontheirholygrave？

Thelaurelisvowedtothem，Leavethebayonitssacredstem！

Butthis，therose，thefadingrose，Alikeforslaveandfreemangrows。

II

IfMemorysitbesidethedeadWithtombsheronlytreasure；

IfHopeislostandFreedomfled，ThemoreexcuseforPleasure。

Come，weavethewreath，therosesweave，Theroseatleastisours：

Tofeebleheartsourfathersleave，Inpityingscorn，theflowers！

III

Onthesummit，wornandhoary，OfPhyle’ssolemnhill，Thetrampofthebraveisstill！

AndstillinthesaddeningMart，Thepulseofthatmightyheart，Whoseverybloodwasglory！

Glaucopisforsakesherown，Theangrygodsforgetus；

Butyet，thebluestreamsalong，WalkthefeetofthesilverSong；

Andthenight—birdwakesthemoon；

AndthebeesintheblushingnoonHaunttheheartoftheoldHymettus。

Wearefallen，butnotforlorn，Ifsomethingislefttocherish；

AsLovewastheearliestborn，SoLoveisthelasttoperish。

IV

Wreathethentheroses，wreatheTheBEAUTIFULstillisours，Whilethestreamshallflowandtheskyshallglow，TheBEAUTIFULstillisours！

Whateverisfair，orsoft，orbright，Inthelapofdayorthearmsofnight，WhispersoursoulofGreece——ofGreece，Andhushesourcarewithavoiceofpeace。

Wreathethentheroses，wreathe！

Theytellmeofearlierhours；

AndIheartheheartofmyCountrybreatheFromthelipsoftheStranger’sflowers。

ChapterV

NYDIAENCOUNTERSJULIA。INTERVIEWOFTHEHEATHENSISTERANDCONVERTED

BROTHER。ANATHENIAN’SNOTIONOFCHRISTIANITY。

’WHAThappinesstoIone！whatblisstobeeverbythesideofGlaucus，tohearhisvoice！——Andshetoocanseehim！’

Suchwasthesoliloquyoftheblindgirl，asshewalkedaloneandattwilighttothehouseofhernewmistress，whitherGlaucushadalreadyprecededher。Suddenlyshewasinterruptedinherfondthoughtsbyafemalevoice。

’Blindflower—girl，whithergoestthou？Thereisnopannierunderthinearm；hastthousoldallthyflowers？’

ThepersonthusaccostingNydiawasaladyofahandsomebutaboldandunmaidenlycountenance：itwasJulia，thedaughterofDiomed。Herveilwashalfraisedasshespoke；shewasaccompaniedbyDiomedhimself，andbyaslavecarryingalanternbeforethem——themerchantandhisdaughterwerereturninghomefromasupperatoneoftheirneighbors’。

’Dostthounotremembermyvoice？’continuedJulia。’IamthedaughterofDiomedthewealthy。’

’Ah！forgiveme；yes，Irecallthetonesofyourvoice。No，nobleJulia，I

havenoflowerstosell。’

’IheardthatthouwertpurchasedbythebeautifulGreekGlaucus；isthattrue，prettyslave？’askedJulia。

’IservetheNeapolitan，Ione，’repliedNydia，evasively。

’Ah！anditistrue，then……’

’Come，come！’interruptedDiomed，withhiscloakuptohismouth，’thenightgrowscold；Icannotstayherewhileyoupratetothatblindgirl：come，letherfollowyouhome，ifyouwishtospeaktoher。’

’Do，child，’saidJulia，withtheairofonenotaccustomedtoberefused；

’Ihavemuchtoaskofthee：come。’

’Icannotthisnight，itgrowslate，’answeredNydia。’Imustbeathome；I

amnotfree，nobleJulia。’

’What，themeekIonewillchidethee？——Ay，IdoubtnotsheisasecondThalestris。Butcome，then，to—morrow：do——rememberIhavebeenthyfriendofold。’

’Iwillobeythywishes，’answeredNydia；andDiomedagainimpatientlysummonedhisdaughter：shewasobligedtoproceed，withthemainquestionshehaddesiredtoputtoNydiaunasked。

MeanwhilewereturntoIone。TheintervaloftimethathadelapsedthatdaybetweenthefirstandsecondvisitofGlaucushadnotbeentoogailyspent：

shehadreceivedavisitfromherbrother。SincethenighthehadassistedinsavingherfromtheEgyptian，shehadnotbeforeseenhim。

Occupiedwithhisownthoughts——thoughtsofsoseriousandintenseanature——theyoungpriesthadthoughtlittleofhissister；intruth，men，perhapsofthatferventorderofmindwhichiseveraspiringaboveearth，arebutlittlepronetotheearthlieraffections；andithadbeenlongsinceApaecideshadsoughtthosesoftandfriendlyinterchangesofthought，thosesweetconfidences，whichinhisearlieryouthhadboundhimtoIone，andwhicharesonaturaltothatendearingconnectionwhichexistedbetweenthem。

Ione，however，hadnotceasedtoregrethisestrangement：sheattributedit，atpresent，totheengrossingdutiesofhisseverefraternity。Andoften，amidstallherbrighthopes，andhernewattachmenttoherbetrothed——often，whenshethoughtofherbrother’sbrowprematurelyfurrowed，hisunsmilinglip，andbendedframe，shesighedtothinkthattheserviceofthegodscouldthrowsodeepashadowoverthatearthwhichthegodscreated。

Butthisdaywhenhevisitedhertherewasastrangecalmnessonhisfeatures，amorequietandself—possessedexpressioninhissunkeneyes，thanshehadmarkedforyears。Thisapparentimprovementwasbutmomentary——itwasafalsecalm，whichtheleastbreezecouldruffle。

’Maythegodsblessthee，mybrother！’saidshe，embracinghim。

’Thegods！Speaknotthusvaguely；perchancethereisbutoneGod！’

’Mybrother！’

’WhatifthesublimefaithoftheNazarenebetrue？WhatifGodbeamonarch——One——Invisible——Alone？Whatifthesenumerous，countlessdeities，whosealtarsfilltheearth，bebutevildemons，seekingtoweanusfromthetruecreed？Thismaybethecase，Ione！’

’Alas！canwebelieveit？orifwebelieved，woulditnotbeamelancholyfaithansweredtheNeapolitan。’What！allthisbeautifulworldmadeonlyhuman！——mountaindisenchantedofitsOread——thewatersoftheirNymph——thatbeautifulprodigalityoffaith，whichmakeseverythingdivine，consecratingthemeanestflowers，bearingcelestialwhispersinthefaintestbreeze——wouldstthoudenythis，andmaketheearthmeredustandclay？No，Apaecides：allthatisbrightestinourheartsisthatverycredulitywhichpeoplestheuniversewithgods。’

Ioneansweredasabelieverinthepoesyoftheoldmythologywouldanswer。

WemayjudgebythatreplyhowobstinateandhardthecontestwhichChristianityhadtoendureamongtheheathens。TheGracefulSuperstitionwasneversilent；every，themosthousehold，actionoftheirliveswasentwinedwithit——itwasaportionoflifeitself，astheflowersareapartofthethyrsus。Ateveryincidenttheyrecurredtoagod，everycupofwinewasprefacedbyalibation；theverygarlandsontheirthresholdswerededicatedtosomedivinity；theirancestorsthemselves，madeholy，presidedasLaresovertheirhearthandhall。Soabundantwasbeliefwiththem，thatintheirownclimes，atthishour，idolatryhasneverthoroughlybeenoutrooted：itchangesbutitsobjectsofworship；itappealstoinnumerablesaintswhereonceitresortedtodivinities；anditpoursitscrowds，inlisteningreverence，tooraclesattheshrinesofSt。JanuariusorSt。

Stephen，insteadoftothoseofIsisorApollo。

ButthesesuperstitionswerenottotheearlyChristianstheobjectofcontemptsomuchasofhorror。Theydidnotbelieve，withthequietscepticismoftheheathenphilosopher，thatthegodswereinventionsofthepriests；noreven，withthevulgar，that，accordingtothedimlightofhistory，theyhadbeenmortalslikethemselves。Theyimaginedtheheathendivinitiestobeevilspirits——theytransplantedtoItalyandtoGreecethegloomydemonsofIndiaandtheEast；andinJupiterorinMarstheyshudderedattherepresentativeofMolochorofSatan。

ApaecideshadnotyetadoptedformallytheChristianfaith，buthewasalreadyonthebrinkofit。HealreadyparticipatedthedoctrinesofOlinthus——healreadyimaginedthatthelivelyimaginationsoftheheathenwerethesuggestionsofthearch—enemyofmankind。TheinnocentandnaturalanswerofIonemadehimshudder。Hehastenedtoreplyvehemently，andyetsoconfusedly，thatIonefearedforhisreasonmorethanshedreadedhisviolence。

’Ah，mybrother！’saidshe，’theseharddutiesofthinehaveshatteredthyverysense。Cometome，Apaecides，mybrother，myownbrother；givemethyhand，letmewipethedewfromthybrow——chidemenotnow，Iunderstandtheenot；thinkonlythatIonecouldnotoffendthee！’

’Ione，’saidApaecides，drawinghertowardshim，andregardinghertenderly，’canIthinkthatthisbeautifulform，thiskindheart，maybedestinedtoaneternityoftorment？’

’Diimeliora！thegodsforbid！’saidIone，inthecustomaryformofwordsbywhichhercontemporariesthoughtanomenmightbeaverted。

Thewords，andstillmorethesuperstitiontheyimplied，woundedtheearofApaecides。Herose，mutteringtohimself，turnedfromthechamber，then，stopping，halfway，gazedwistfullyonIone，andextendedhisarms。

Ioneflewtotheminjoy；hekissedherearnestly，andthenhesaid：

’Farewell，mysister！whenwenextmeet，thoumaystbetomeasnothing；

takethou，then，thisembrace——fullyetofallthetenderreminiscencesofchildhood，whenfaithandhope，creeds，customs，interests，objects，werethesametous。Now，thetieistobebroken！’

Withthesestrangewordsheleftthehouse。

ThegreatandseveresttrialoftheprimitiveChristianswasindeedthis；

theirconversionseparatedthemfromtheirdearestbonds。Theycouldnotassociatewithbeingswhosecommonestactions，whosecommonestformsofspeech，wereimpregnatedwithidolatry。Theyshudderedattheblessingoflove，totheirearsitwasutteredinademon’sname。This，theirmisfortune，wastheirstrength；ifitdividedthemfromtherestoftheworld，itwastounitethemproportionallytoeachother。TheyweremenofironwhowroughtforththeWordofGod，andverilythebondsthatboundthemwereofironalso！

GlaucusfoundIoneintears；hehadalreadyassumedthesweetprivilegetoconsole。Hedrewfromherarecitalofherinterviewwithherbrother；butinherconfusedaccountoflanguage，itselfsoconfusedtoonenotpreparedforit，hewasequallyatalosswithIonetoconceivetheintentionsorthemeaningofApaecides。

’Hastthoueverheardmuch，’askedshe，’ofthisnewsectoftheNazarenes，ofwhichmybrotherspoke？’

’Ihaveoftenheardenoughofthevotaries，’returnedGlaucus，’butoftheirexacttenetsknowInaught，savethatintheirdoctrinethereseemethsomethingpreternaturallychillingandmorose。Theyliveapartfromtheirkind；theyaffecttobeshockedevenatoursimpleusesofgarlands；theyhavenosympathieswiththecheerfulamusementsoflife；theyutterawfulthreatsofthecomingdestructionoftheworld；theyappear，inoneword，tohavebroughttheirunsmilingandgloomycreedoutofthecaveofTrophonius。

Yet，’continuedGlaucus，afteraslightpause，’theyhavenotwantedmenofgreatpowerandgenius，norconverts，evenamongtheAreopagitesofAthens。

WelldoIremembertohaveheardmyfatherspeakofonestrangeguestatAthens，manyyearsago；methinkshisnamewasPAUL。MyfatherwasamongstamightycrowdthatgatheredononeofourimmemorialhillstohearthissageoftheEastexpound：throughthewidethrongthererangnotasinglemurmur！——thejestandtheroar，withwhichournativeoratorsarereceived，werehushedforhim——andwhenontheloftiestsummitofthathill，raisedabovethebreathlesscrowdbelow，stoodthismysteriousvisitor，hismienandhiscountenanceawedeveryheart，evenbeforeasoundlefthislips。Hewasaman，Ihaveheardmyfathersay，ofnotallstature，butofnobleandimpressivemien；hisrobesweredarkandample；thedecliningsun，foritwasevening，shoneaslantuponhisformasitrosealoft，motionless，andcommanding；hiscountenancewasmuchwornandmarked，asofonewhohadbravedalikemisfortuneandthesternestvicissitudeofmanyclimes；buthiseyeswerebrightwithanalmostunearthlyfire；andwhenheraisedhisarmtospeak，itwaswiththemajestyofamanintowhomtheSpiritofaGodhathrushed！

’"MenofAthens！"heisreportedtohavesaid，"Ifindamongstyeanaltarwiththisinscription：

TOTHEUNKNOWNGOD。

YeworshipinignorancethesameDeityIserve。

Toyouunknowntillnow，toyoubeitnowrevealed。"

’ThendeclaredthatsolemnmanhowthisgreatMakerofallthings，whohadappointeduntomanhisseveraltribesandhisvarioushomes——theLordofearthandtheuniversalheaven，dweltnotintemplesmadewithhands；thatHispresence，Hisspirit，wereintheairwebreathed——ourlifeandourbeingwerewithHim。"Thinkyou，"hecried，"thattheInvisibleislikeyourstatuesofgoldandmarble？ThinkyouthatHeneedethsacrificefromyou：Hewhomadeheavenandearth？"Thenspokeheoffearfulandcomingtimes，oftheendoftheworld，ofasecondrisingofthedead，whereofanassurancehadbeengiventomanintheresurrectionofthemightyBeingwhosereligionhecametopreach。

’Whenhethusspoke，thelong—pentmurmurwentforth，andthephilosophersthatweremingledwiththepeople，mutteredtheirsagecontempt；theremightyouhaveseenthechillingfrownoftheStoic，andtheCynic’ssneer；andtheEpicurean，whobelievethnoteveninourownElysium，mutteredapleasantjest，andsweptlaughingthroughthecrowd：butthedeepheartofthepeoplewastouchedandthrilled；andtheytrembled，thoughtheyknewnotwhy，forverilythestrangerhadthevoiceandmajestyofamantowhom"TheUnknownGod"hadcommittedthepreachingofHisfaith。’

Ionelistenedwithwraptattention，andtheseriousandearnestmannerofthenarratorbetrayedtheimpressionthathehimselfhadreceivedfromonewhohadbeenamongsttheaudiencethatonthehilloftheheathenMarshadheardthefirsttidingsofthewordofChrist！

ChapterVI

THEPORTER。THEGIRL。ANDTHEGLADIATOR。

THEdoorofDiomed’shousestoodopen，andMedon，theoldslave，satatthebottomofthestepsbywhichyouascendedtothemansion。ThatluxuriousmansionoftherichmerchantofPompeiiisstilltobeseenjustwithoutthegatesofthecity，atthecommencementoftheStreetofTombs；itwasagayneighborhood，despitethedead。Ontheoppositeside，butatsomeyardsnearerthegate，wasaspacioushostelry，atwhichthosebroughtbybusinessorbypleasuretoPompeiioftenstoppedtorefreshthemselves。Inthespacebeforetheentranceoftheinnnowstoodwagons，andcarts，andchariots，somejustarrived，somejustquitting，inallthebustleofananimatedandpopularresortofpublicentertainment。Beforethedoor，somefarmers，seatedonabenchbyasmallcirculartable，weretalkingovertheirmorningcups，ontheaffairsoftheircalling。Onthesideofthedooritselfwaspaintedgailyandfreshlytheeternalsignofthechequers。Bytheroofoftheinnstretchedaterrace，onwhichsomefemales，wivesofthefarmersabovementioned，were，someseated，someleaningovertherailing，andconversingwiththeirfriendsbelow。Inadeeprecess，atalittledistance，wasacoveredseat，inwhichsometwoorthreepoorertravellerswererestingthemselves，andshakingthedustfromtheirgarments。Ontheothersidestretchedawidespace，originallytheburial—groundofamoreancientracethanthepresentdenizensofPompeii，andnowconvertedintotheUstrinum，orplacefortheburningofthedead。Abovethisrosetheterracesofagayvilla，halfhidbytrees。Thetombsthemselves，withtheirgracefulandvariedshapes，theflowersandthefoliagethatsurroundedthem，madenomelancholyfeatureintheprospect。Hardbythegateofthecity，inasmallniche，stoodthestillformofthewell—disciplinedRomansentry，thesunshiningbrightlyonhispolishedcrest，andthelanceonwhichheleaned。Thegateitselfwasdividedintothreearches，thecentreoneforvehicles，theothersforthefoot—passengers；andoneithersiderosethemassivewallswhichgirtthecity，composed，patched，repairedatathousanddifferentepochs，accordingaswar，time，ortheearthquakehadshatteredthatvainprotection。Atfrequentintervalsrosesquaretowers，whosesummitsbrokeinpicturesquerudenesstheregularlineofthewall，andcontrastedwellwiththemodernbuildingsgleamingwhitelyby。

Thecurvingroad，whichinthatdirectionleadsfromPompeiitoHerculaneum，woundoutofsightamidsthangingvines，abovewhichfrownedthesullenmajestyofVesuvius。

’Hastthouheardthenews，oldMedon？’saidayoungwoman，withapitcherinherhand，asshepausedbyDiomed’sdoortogossipamomentwiththeslave，eresherepairedtotheneighboringinntofillthevessel，andcoquetwiththetravellers。

’Thenews！whatnews？’saidtheslave，raisinghiseyesmoodilyfromtheground。

’Why，therepassedthroughthegatethismorning，nodoubterethouwertwellawake，suchavisitortoPompeii！’

’Ay，’saidtheslave，indifferently。

’Yes，apresentfromthenoblePomponianus。’

’Apresent！Ithoughtthousaidstavisitor？’

’Itisbothvisitorandpresent。Know，Odullandstupid！thatitisamostbeautifulyoungtiger，forourapproachinggamesintheamphitheatre。Hearyouthat，Medon？Oh，whatpleasure！IdeclareIshallnotsleepawinktillIseeit；theysayithassucharoar！’

’Poorfool！’saidMedon，sadlyandcynically。

’Foolmenofool，oldchurl！Itisaprettything，atiger，especiallyifwecouldbutfindsomebodyforhimtoeat。Wehavenowalionandatiger；

onlyconsiderthat，Medon！andforwantoftwogoodcriminalsperhapsweshallbeforcedtoseethemeateachother。By—the—by，yoursonisagladiator，ahandsomemanandastrong，canyounotpersuadehimtofightthetiger？Donow，youwouldobligememightily；nay，youwouldbeabenefactortothewholetown。’

’Vah！vah！’saidtheslave，withgreatasperity；’thinkofthineowndangererethouthuspratestofmypoorboy’sdeath。’

’Myowndanger！’saidthegirl，frightenedandlookinghastilyaround——’Averttheomen！letthywordsfallonthineownhead！’Andthegirl，asshespoke，touchedatalismansuspendedroundherneck。’"Thineowndanger！"whatdangerthreatensme？’

’Hadtheearthquakebutafewnightssincenowarning？’saidMedon。’Hasitnotavoice？Diditnotsaytousall，"Preparefordeath；theendofallthingsisathand？"’

’Bah，stuff！’saidtheyoungwoman，settlingthefoldsofhertunic。’NowthoutalkestastheysaytheNazarenestalked——methinksthouartoneofthem。Well，Icanpratewiththee，greycroaker，nomore：thougrowestworseandworse——Vale！OHercules，sendusamanforthelion——andanotherforthetiger！’

Ho！ho！forthemerry，merryshow，Withaforestoffacesineveryrow！

Lo，theswordsmen，boldasthesonofAlcmena，Sweep，sidebyside，o’erthehushedarena；

Talkwhileyoumay——youwillholdyourbreathWhentheymeetinthegraspoftheglowingdeath。

Tramp，tramp，howgailytheygo！

Ho！ho！forthemerry，merryshow！

Chantinginasilverandclearvoicethisfeminineditty，andholdinguphertunicfromthedustyroad，theyoungwomansteppedlightlyacrosstothecrowdedhostelry。

’Mypoorson！’saidtheslave，halfaloud，’isitforthingslikethisthouarttobebutchered？Oh！faithofChrist，Icouldworshiptheeinallsincerity，wereitbutforthehorrorwhichthouinspirestforthesebloodylists。’

Theoldman’sheadsankdejectedlyonhisbreast。Heremainedsilentandabsorbed，buteverynowandthenwiththecornerofhissleevehewipedhiseyes。Hisheartwaswithhisson；hedidnotseethefigurethatnowapproachedfromthegatewithaquickstep，andasomewhatfierceandrecklessgaitandcarriage。Hedidnotlifthiseyestillthefigurepausedoppositetheplacewherehesat，andwithasoftvoiceaddressedhimbythenameof：

’Father！’

’Myboy！myLydon！isitindeedthou？’saidtheoldman，joyfully。’Ah，thouwertpresenttomythoughts。’

’Iamgladtohearit，myfather，’saidthegladiator，respectfullytouchingthekneesandbeardoftheslave；’andsoonmayIbealwayspresentwiththee，notinthoughtonly。’

’Yes，myson——butnotinthisworld，’repliedtheslave，mournfully。

’Talknotthus，Omysire！lookcheerfully，forIfeelso——IamsurethatI

shallwintheday；andthen，thegoldIgainbuysthyfreedom。Oh！myfather，itwasbutafewdayssincethatIwastaunted，byone，too，whomI

wouldgladlyhaveundeceived，forheismoregenerousthantherestofhisequals。HeisnotRoman——heisofAthens——byhimIwastauntedwiththelustofgain——whenIdemandedwhatsumwastheprizeofvictory。Alas！helittleknewthesoulofLydon！’

’Myboy！myboy！’saidtheoldslave，as，slowlyascendingthesteps，heconductedhissontohisownlittlechamber，communicatingwiththeentrancehall（whichinthisvillawastheperistyle，nottheatrium）——youmayseeitnow；itisthethirddoortotherightonentering。（Thefirstdoorconductstothestaircase；thesecondisbutafalserecess，inwhichtherestoodastatueofbronze。）’Generous，affectionate，piousasarethymotives，’saidMedon，whentheywerethussecuredfromobservation，’thydeeditselfisguilt：thouarttoriskthybloodforthyfather’sfreedom——thatmightbeforgiven；buttheprizeofvictoryisthebloodofanother。oh，thatisadeadlysin；noobjectcanpurifyit。Forbear！

forbear！ratherwouldIbeaslaveforeverthanpurchaselibertyonsuchterms！’

’Hush，myfather！’repliedLydon，somewhatimpatiently；’thouhastpickedupinthisnewcreedofthine，ofwhichIpraytheenottospeaktome，forthegodsthatgavemestrengthdeniedmewisdom，andIunderstandnotonewordofwhatthouoftenpreachesttome——thouhastpickedup，Isay，inthisnewcreed，somesingularfantasiesofrightandwrong。PardonmeifIoffendthee：butreflect！AgainstwhomshallIcontend？Oh！couldstthouknowthosewretcheswithwhom，forthysake，Iassort，thouwouldstthinkI

purifiedearthbyremovingoneofthem。Beasts，whoseverylipsdropblood；

things，allsavage，unprincipledintheirverycourage：ferocious，heartless，senseless；notieoflifecanbindthem：theyknownotfear，itistrue——butneitherknowtheygratitude，norcharity，norlove；theyaremadebutfortheirowncareer，toslaughterwithoutpity，todiewithoutdread！Canthygods，whosoevertheybe，lookwithwrathonaconflictwithsuchasthese，andinsuchacause？Oh，Myfather，whereverthepowersabovegazedownonearth，theybeholdnodutysosacred，sosanctifying，asthesacrificeofferedtoanagedparentbythepietyofagratefulson！’

Thepooroldslave，himselfdeprivedofthelightsofknowledge，andonlylateaconverttotheChristianfaith，knewnotwithwhatargumentstoenlightenanignoranceatoncesodark，andyetsobeautifulinitserror。

Hisfirstimpulsewastothrowhimselfonhisson’sbreast——hisnexttostartawaytowringhishands；andintheattempttoreprove，hisbrokenvoicelostitselfinweeping。