Philothea Part 25

Eudora recalled to mind the pure and sublime discourse she had so often enjoyed with Philothea, and sighed as she compared it with this specimen of intercourse with high-born Persian ladies.

When the sun was setting, she again walked upon the terrace; and, forgetful of the customs of the country, threw back her veil, that she might enjoy more perfectly the beauty of the landscape. She stood thoughtfully gazing at the distant pinnacles, which marked the residence of Megabyzus, when the barking of Hylax attracted her attention, and looking into the garden, she perceived a richly dressed young man, with his eyes fixed earnestly upon her. She drew her veil hastily, and retired within the dwelling, indulging the secret hope that none of her attendants had witnessed an action, which Artaphernes would deem so imprudent.

On the following morning commenced the celebrated festival called, 'The Salutation of Mithras;' during which, forty days were set apart for thanksgiving and sacrifice. The procession formed long before the rising of the sun. First appeared a long train of the most distinguished Magii from all parts of the empire, led by their chief in scarlet robes, carrying the sacred fire upon a silver furnace. Next appeared an empty chariot consecrated to Oromasdes, decorated with garlands, and drawn by white steeds harnessed with gold. This was followed by a magnificent large horse, his forehead flaming with gems, in honour of Mithras. Then came the Band of Immortals, and the royal kindred, their Median vests blazing with embroidery and gold. Artaxerxes rode in an ivory chariot, richly inlaid with precious stones. He was followed by a long line of n.o.bles, riding on camels splendidly caparisoned; and their countless attendants closed the train. This gorgeous retinue slowly ascended Mount Orontes. When they arrived upon its summit, the chief of the Magii a.s.sumed his tiara interwoven with myrtle, and hailed the first beams of the rising sun with sacrifice. Then each of the Magii in turns sung orisons to Oromasdes, by whose eternal power the radiant Mithras had been sent to gladden the earth, and preserve the principle of life.

Finally, they all joined in one universal chorus, while king, princes, and n.o.bles, prostrated themselves, and adored the Fountain of Light.

At that solemn moment, a tiger leaped from an adjoining thicket, and sprung toward the king. But ere the astonished courtiers had time to breathe, a javelin from some unknown hand pa.s.sed through the ferocious animal, and laid him lifeless in the dust.

Eudora had watched the procession from the house-top; and at this moment she thought she perceived hurried and confused movements, of which her attendants could give no explanation.

The splendid concourse returned toward the palace in the same order that it had ascended the mountain. But next to the royal chariot there now appeared a young man on a n.o.ble steed, with a golden chain about his neck, and two heralds by his side, who ever and anon blew their trumpets, and proclaimed, "This is Philaemon of Athens, whom the king delighteth to honour?"

Eudora understood the proclamation imperfectly; but afar off, she recognized the person of her lover. As they pa.s.sed the house, she saw Hylax running to and fro on the top of the wall, barking, and jumping, and wagging his tail, as if he too were conscious of the vicinity of some familiar friend. The dog evidently arrested Philaemon's attention; for he observed him closely, and long continued to look back and watch his movements.

A tide of sweet and bitter recollections oppressed the maiden's heart; a deadly paleness overspread her cheeks; a suffocating feeling choked her voice; and had it not been for a sudden gush of tears, she would have fallen.

When her father returned, he informed her that the life of Artaxerxes had been saved by the prompt.i.tude and boldness of Philaemon, who happened to perceive the tiger sooner than any other person at the festival. He added, "I saw Philaemon after the rescue, but we had brief opportunity to discourse together. I think his secluded habits have prevented him from hearing that I found a daughter in Athens. He told me he intended soon to return to his native country, and promised to be my guest for a few days before he departed. Furthermore, my child, the Great King, in the fulness of his regal bounty, last night sent a messenger to demand you in marriage for his son Xerxes."

He watched her countenance, as he spoke; but seemed doubtful how to understand the fluctuating colour. Still keeping his scrutinizing gaze fixed upon her, he continued, "Artaminta, this is an honour not to be lightly rejected; to be princess of Persia now, and hereafter perhaps its queen."

In some confusion, the maiden answered, "Perhaps the prince may not approve his father's choice."

"No, Artaminta; the prince has chosen for himself. He sent his sister to obtain a view of my newly discovered daughter; and he himself saw you, as you stood on the terrace unveiled."

In an agitated voice, Eudora asked, "And must I be compelled to obey the commands of the king?"

"Unless it should be his gracious pleasure to dispense with obedience,"

replied Artaphernes. "I and all my household are his servants. I pray Oromasdes that you may never have greater troubles than the fear of becoming a princess."

"But you forget, my dear father, that Parysatis told me her brother Xerxes was effeminate and capricious, and had a new idol with every change of the moon. Some fairer face would soon find favour in his sight; and I should perhaps be shut up with hundreds of forgotten favourites, in the old harem, among silly women and ugly slaves."

Her father answered, in an excited tone, "Artaminta, if you had been brought up with more becoming seclusion, like those silly Persian women, you would perhaps have known, better than you now seem to do, that a woman's whole duty is submission."

Eudora had never heard him speak so harshly. She perceived that his parental ambition was roused, and that her indifference to the royal proposal displeased him. The tears fell fast, as she replied, "Dear father, I will obey you, even if you ask me to sacrifice my life, at the command of the king."

Her tears touched the feelings of the kind old man. He embraced her affectionately, saying, "Do not weep, daughter of my beloved Antiope. It would indeed gratify my heart to see you Queen of Persia; but you shall not be made wretched, if my interest with the Great King can prevent it. All men praise his justice and moderation; and he has pledged his royal word to grant anything I ask, in recompense for services rendered in Greece. The man who has just saved his life can no doubt obtain any favour. But reflect upon it well, my daughter. Xerxes has no son; and should you give birth to a boy, no new favourite could exclude you from the throne. Perhaps Philaemon was silent from other causes than ignorance of your arrival in Persia; and if this be the case, you may repent a too hasty rejection of princely love."

Eudora blushed like crimson, and appeared deeply pained by this suggestion; but she made no answer. Artaphernes departed, promising to seek a private audience with the king; and she saw him no more that night. When she laid her head upon the pillow, a mind troubled with many anxious thoughts for a long time prevented repose; and when she did sink to sleep, it was with a confused medley of ideas, in which the remembrance of Philaemon's love was mixed up with floating visions of regal grandeur, and proud thoughts of a triumphant marriage, now placed within her power, should he indeed prove as unforgiving and indifferent, as her father had suggested.

In her sleep, she saw Philothea; but a swift and turbid stream appeared to roll between them; and her friend said, in melancholy tones, "You have left me, Eudora; and I cannot come to you, now. Whence are these dark and restless waters, which separate our souls?"

Then a variety of strange scenes rapidly succeeded each other--all cheerless, perturbed, and chaotic. At last, she seemed to be standing under the old grape-vine, that shaded the dwelling of Anaxagoras, and Philaemon crowned her with a wreath of myrtle. In the morning, soon after she had risen from her couch, Artaphernes came to her apartment, and mildly asked if she still wished to decline the royal alliance. He evinced no displeasure when she answered in the affirmative; but quietly replied, "It may be that you have chosen a wise part, my child; for true it is, that safety and contentment rarely take up their abode with princes. But now go and adorn yourself with your richest apparel; for the Great King requires me to present you at the palace, before the hour of noon. Let your Greek costume be laid aside; for I would not have my daughter appear like a foreigner, in the presence of her king."

With a palpitating heart, Eudora resigned herself into the hands of her Persian tire-women, who so loaded her with embroidery and gems, that she could scarcely support their weight.

She was conveyed to the palace in a cedar carriage, carefully screened from observation. Her father rode by her side, and a numerous train of attendants followed. Through gates of burnished bra.s.s, they entered a small court with a tesselated pavement of black and white marble. Thence they pa.s.sed into a long apartment, with walls of black marble, and cornices heavily gilded. The marble was so highly polished, that Eudora saw the light of her jewels everywhere reflected like sunbeams.

Surprised by the multiplied images of herself and attendants, she did not at first perceive, through the net-work of her veil, that a young man stood leaning against the wall, with his arms folded. This well-remembered att.i.tude attracted her attention, and she scarcely needed a glance to a.s.sure her it was Philaemon.

It being contrary to Persian etiquette to speak without license within hearing of the royal apartments, the Athenian merely smiled, and bowed gracefully to Artaphernes; but an audible sigh escaped him, as he glanced at the Greek attendants. Eudora hastily turned away her head, when he looked toward her; but her heart throbbed so violently that every fold of her veil trembled. They continued thus in each other's presence many minutes; one in a state of perfect unconsciousness, the other suffering an intensity of feeling, that seemed like the condensed excitement of years. At last a herald came to say it was now the pleasure of the Great King to receive them in the private court, opening into the royal gardens.

The pavement of this court was of porphyry inlaid with costly marbles, in various hieroglyphics. The side connected with the palace was adorned with carved open-work, richly painted and gilded, and with jasper tablets, alternately surmounted by a golden ram and a winged lion; one the royal ensign of Persia, the other emblematic of the a.s.syrian empire conquered by Cyrus. The throne was placed in the centre, under a canopy of crimson, yellow, and blue silk, tastefully intermingled and embroidered with silver and gold. Above this was an image of the sun, with rays so brilliant, that it dazzled the eyes of those who looked upon it.

The monarch seemed scarcely beyond the middle age, with long flowing hair, and a countenance mild and dignified. On his right hand stood Xerxes--on his left, Darius and Sogdia.n.u.s; and around him were a numerous band of younger sons; all wearing white robes, with jewelled vests of Tyrian purple.

As they entered, the active buzzing of female voices was heard behind the gilded open-work of the wall; but this was speedily silenced by a signal from the herald. Artaphernes prostrated himself, till his forehead touched the pavement; Eudora copied his example; but Philaemon merely bowed low, after the manner of the Athenians. Artaxerxes bade them arise, and said, in a stern tone, "Artaphernes, has thy daughter prepared herself to obey our royal mandate? Or is she still contemptuous of our kingly bounty?"

Eudora trembled; and her father again prostrated himself, as he replied: "O great and benignant king! mayest thou live forever. May Oromandes bless thee with a prosperous reign, and forever avert from thee the malignant influence of Arimanius. I and my household are among the least of thy servants. May the hand that offends thee be cut off, and cast to unclean dogs."

"Arise, Artaphernes!" said the monarch: "Thy daughter has permission to speak."

Eudora, awed by the despotic power and august presence of Artaxerxes, spoke to her father, in a low and tremulous voice, and reminded him of the royal promise to grant whatever he might ask."

Philaemon turned eagerly, and a sudden flush mantled his cheeks, when he heard the pure Attic dialect, "with its lovely marriage of sweet sounds."

"What does the maiden say?" inquired the king. Artaphernes again paid homage, and answered; "O Light of the World! Look in mercy upon the daughter of thy servant, and grant that her pet.i.tion may find favour in thy sight. As yet, she hath not gained a ready utterance of the Persian language--honoured and blessed above all languages, in being the messenger of thy thoughts, O king. Therefore she spoke in the Greek tongue, concerning thy gracious promise to grant unto the humblest of thy servants whatsoever he might ask at thy hands."

Then the monarch held forth his golden sceptre, and replied, "Be it unto thee, as I have said. I have sought thy daughter in marriage for Xerxes, prince of the empire. What other boon does Artaphernes ask of the king?"

The Persian approached, and reverently touching the point of the sceptre, answered: "O King of kings! before whom the nations of the earth do tremble. Thy bounty is like the overflowing Nilus, and thy mercy refreshing as dew upon the parched earth. If it be thy pleasure, O King, forgive Artaminta, my daughter, if she begs that the favour of the prince, like the blessed rays of Mithras, may fall upon some fairer damsel. I pray thee have her excused."

Xerxes looked up with an angry frown; but his royal father replied, "The word of the king is sacred; and his decree changeth not. Be it unto thee even as thou wilt."

Then turning to Philaemon, he said: "Athenian stranger, our royal life preserved by thy hand deserves a kingly boon. Since our well beloved son cannot find favour in the eyes of this damsel, we bestow her upon thee.

Her father is one of the ill.u.s.trious Pasargadae, and her ancestors were not unremotely connected with the princes of Media. We have never looked upon her countenance--deeming it wise to copy the prudent example of our cousin Cyrus; but report describes her beautiful as Panthea."

Eudora shrunk from being thus bestowed upon Philaemon; and she would have said this to her father, had he not checked the first half-uttered word by a private signal.

With extreme confusion, the Athenian bowed low, and answered, "Pardon me, O King, and deem me not insensible of thy royal munificence. I pray thee bestow the daughter of the princely Artaphernes upon one more worthy than thy servant."

"Now, by the memory of Cyrus!" exclaimed Artaxerxes, "The king's favours shall this day be likened unto a beggar, whose pet.i.tions are rejected at every gate."

Then, turning to his courtiers, he added: "A proud nation are these Greeks! When the plague ravaged all Persia and Media, Hippocrates of Cos refused our entreaties, and scorned our royal bounty; saying he was born to serve his own countrymen, and not foreigners. Themistocles, on whom our mighty father bestowed the revenues of cities, died, rather than fight for him against Athens; and lo! here is a young Athenian, who refuses a maiden sought by the Persian prince, with a dowry richer than Pactolus.

Philaemon bowed himself reverently, and replied: "Deem not, O king, that I am moved by Grecian pride; for well I know that I am all unworthy of this princely alliance. An epistle lately received from Olympia makes it necessary for me to return to Greece; where, O king, I seek a beloved maiden, to whom I was betrothed before my exile."

Eudora had trembled violently, and her convulsive breathing was audible, while Philaemon spoke; but when he uttered the last words, forgetful of the reverence required of those who stood in the presence of majesty, she murmured, "Oh, Philothea!" and sunk into the arms of her father.

The young man started; for now, not only the language, but the tones were familiar to his heart. As the senseless form was carried into the garden, he gazed upon it with an excited and bewildered expression.

Artaxerxes smiled, as he said: "Athenian stranger, the daughter of Artaphernes, lost on the coast of Ionia, was discovered in the household of Phidias, and the Greeks called her Eudora."

Philaemon instantly knelt at the monarch's feet, and said, "Pardon me, O king. I was ignorant of all this. I ----"

He would have explained more fully; but Artaxerxes interrupted him; "We know it all, Athenian stranger--we know it all. You have refused Artaminta, and now we bestow upon you Eudora, with the revenues of Magnesia and Lampsacus for her dowry."

Before the next moon had waned, a magnificent marriage was celebrated in the court of audience, opening into the royal gardens. On a shining throne, in the midst of a stately pavilion, was seated Artaxerxes, surrounded by the princes of the empire. Near the throne stood Philaemon and Eudora. Artaphernes placed the right hand of the bride within the right hand of the bridegroom, saying, "Philaemon of Athens, I bestow upon thee, Artaminta, my daughter, with my estates in Pasagarda, and five thousand darics as her dowry."

The chief of the Magii bore sacred fire on a silver censer, and the bridal couple pa.s.sed slowly around it three times, bowing reverently to the sacred emblem of Mithras. Then the bridegroom fastened a golden jewel about the bride's neck, and they repeated certain words, promising fidelity to each other. The nuptial hymn was sung by six handsome youths, and as many maidens, clothed in white garments, with a purple edge.