Historical Miniatures Part 5

"But Phidias is of the race of the G.o.ds; that is more."

"I am probably descended from the t.i.tans," broke in Protagoras. "I say 'probably,' for one knows nothing at all, and hardly that. Don't you think so, Socrates?"

"_You_ know nothing at all, and least of all what you talk about."

The company pa.s.sed through the Sacred Street, and went together to the theatre of Dionysus, near which Alcibiades lived.

The demagogue Cleon had really been lurking out of sight, and listening to the conversation. And so had another man with a yellow complexion and a full black beard, who seemed to belong to the artisan cla.s.s. When the brilliant company had departed, Cleon stepped forward, laid his hand on the stranger's shoulder, and said:

"You have heard their conversation?"

"Certainly I have," he answered.

"Then you can give evidence."

"I cannot give evidence, because I am a foreigner."

"Still you have heard how they spoke against the G.o.ds of the State."

"I am a Syrian, and only know one true G.o.d. Your G.o.ds are not mine."

"You are a Hebrew, then! What is your name?"

"I am an Israelite, of the family of Levi, and call myself now Cartophilus."

"A Phoenician, then?"

"No, a Hebrew. My forefathers came out of Ur of the Chaldees, then fell into bondage in Egypt, but were brought by Moses and Joshua to the land of Canaan, where we became powerful under our own kings, David and Solomon."

"I don't know them."

"Two hundred years ago our city Jerusalem was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon, and our people were carried captive to Babylon. But when Babylon was overthrown by the King of Persia, we fell under the power of the Persians, and have groaned under the successors of your Xerxes of Salamis, whom we called Ahasuerus."

"Your enemies, our enemies! Very well, friend; how did you come here."

"When the a.s.syrian was about to carry us for the first time into captivity, those who could flee, fled to Rhodes, Crete, and the islands of Greece. But of those who were carried away some were sent northwards to Media. My ancestors came hither from Media, and I am a new-comer."

"Your speech is dark to me, but I have heard your nation praised because they are faithful to the G.o.ds of the State."

"G.o.d! There is only One, the Single and True, who has created heaven and earth, and given the promise to our people."

"What promise?"

"That our nation shall possess the earth."

"By Heracles! But the commencement is not very promising."

"That is our belief, and it has supported us during our wanderings in the wilderness, and during the Captivity."

"Will you give evidence against these blasphemers of the G.o.ds?"

"No, Cleon, for you are idolaters. Socrates and his friends do not believe in your G.o.ds, and that will be counted to them for righteousness. Yes, Socrates appeared to me rather to worship the Eternal and Invisible, whom we dare not name. Therefore I do not give evidence against him."

"Is _that_ the side you are on? Then go in peace, but beware! Go!"

"The G.o.d of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob will protect me, so long as I and my house keep His laws."

Cleon had espied his friend and fellow-artisan in the colonnade, and therefore let the inflexible Hebrew go. The latter hastened towards the sycamore avenue of the oil-market, and disappeared there.

Anytos the tanner and politician approached, rehearsing a written speech which he was intending to deliver: "Athens or Sparta,--that is the whole question at issue...."

Cleon, full of curiosity, interrupted him: "What are you rehearsing, Anytos?"

"A speech."

"So I heard! Athens or Sparta! Government by the people, or government by donkeys. The people, the weightiest element in the State, the cultivators of the land, the producers of wealth, lie at the bottom like gold. The worthless, the drones, the rich, the aristocratic, the most frivolous, swim on the surface like chips and corks. Athens has always represented government by the people, and will always do so; Sparta represents the donkey-government.

"The oligarchy, you mean, Cleon."

"No; donkeys. Therefore, Anytos, Athens is badly governed, for Pericles the rich man, who boasts of royal ancestors, has come to power. How can he sympathise with these people, since he has never been down there below? How can he see them rightly from above? He sits on the gable-roof of the Parthenon, and views the Athenians as ants, while they are lions, with their claws pared and their teeth drawn. We, Anytos, born down there amid the skins of the tanyard and dog's-dung, we understand our perspiring brothers--we know them by the smell, so to speak. But like readily a.s.sociates with like; therefore Sparta feels attracted to Athens, to Pericles and his followers. Pericles draws Sparta to himself, and we sink...."

Anytos, himself an orator, did not like to hear eloquence from others, therefore he cut abruptly through Cleon's speech.

"Pericles is ill."

"Is he ill?"

"Yes, he has fever!"

"Really? Perhaps the plague."

"Perhaps."

This interjected remark of Anytos had crossed Cleon's prolix discourse, and a new hope glimmered before him.

"And after Pericles?" he said. "Cleon, of course."

"Why not? The man of the people for the people, but no philosophers nor actors. So, Pericles is sick, is he? Listen, Anytos? Who is Nicias?"

"He is a grandee who believes in oracles."

"Don't attack the oracles. I certainly do not believe in them, but a State requires for its stability a certain uniformity in everything--laws, customs, and religion. Therefore I support the G.o.ds of the State--and what belongs to them."

"I also support the G.o.ds of the State, so long as the people do."

The two orators began to be mutually weary, and Cleon wished for solitude in order to hatch the eggs which Anytos had laid for him.

Therefore he remarked, "You say that Nicias...."