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"Alas! then they have killed him."
"So it is rumoured in the city."
"Phidias is dead!"
"Probably poisoned, they say; but that need not be true."
"All die here in Athens before their proper time. When will our turn come?"
"When it does."
"Are we falling by the arrows of the Python-slayer? We are shot like birds."
"We are the children of Apollo. Would our father kill us?"
"Saturn has returned to devour his children."
Socrates sank in meditation, and remained standing.
"We have angered the G.o.ds."
Lucillus the Roman entered. "See the Roman!" said Socrates, "the lord of the future and of the world. What has he to tell us?"
"I come to warn Protagoras. He is to be banished."
"I?"
"You are banished."
"On what grounds?"
"As a blasphemer. You have repudiated the G.o.ds of the State."
"Who is the informer?"
"The sycophant, the invisible, who is present everywhere."
"All is probable; nothing is certain," exclaimed Protagoras.
"Yes, this is certain."
"Well, my fabric of thought is shattered against this certainty as everything else is shattered."
"[Greek: _Panta rei_]. Everything flows away; nothing endures; all comes to birth, grows, and dies."
"Farewell, then, Aspasia, Socrates, friends, fatherland!
"Farewell!"
Protagoras departed with his mantle drawn over his head.
"Will Athens miss Protagoras?" asked Aspasia.
"He has taught the Athenians to think and to doubt; and doubt is the beginning of wisdom."
"Aristophanes has murdered Protagoras, and he will murder you some day, Socrates."
"He has done that already; my wife rejoices at it, but still I live."
"Here comes young Plato with an ominous look. More bad news I expect."
"Expect? I am certain! Sing your dirge, Plato."
"Dirges, you mean. Alcibiades has been accused and recalled."
"What has he done?"
"Before his departure he has mutilated all the images of Hermes in the city."
"That is too much for one man; he could not do that."
"The accusation is definite; injury to the G.o.ds of the State."
"And now the G.o.ds avenge themselves."
"The G.o.ds of Greece have gone to Rome."
"There you have spoken truth."
"Now comes number two: The Athenians have been defeated in Sicily. And number three: Nicias is beheaded."
"Then we can buy sepulchres for ourselves in the Ceramicus."
Near the Temple of Nemesis in the Agora stood the tanner Anytos chatting with Thrasybulos, a hitherto obscure but rising patriot.
Anytos rattled away: "Alcibiades is in Sparta; Sparta seeks the help of the Persian King; only one thing remains for us--to do the same."
"To go over to the enemy? That is treachery."
"There is nothing else to be done."
"There were once Thermopylae and Salamis."
"But now there is Sparta, and the Spartans are in Deceleia. Our envoys have already sailed to the Persian King."
"Then we may as well remove Athene's image from the Parthenon! Anytos!