The Greeks adored their gods by the simple compliment of kissing their hands; and the Romans were treated as atheists if they would not perform the same act when they entered a temple. This custom, however, as a religious ceremony, declined with Paganism; but was continued as a salutation by inferiors to their superiors, or as a token of esteem among friends. At present it is only practiced as a mark of obedience from the subject to the sovereign, and by lovers, who are solicitous to preserve this ancient usage in its full power.--_Disraeli._
A needle's eye is wide enough for two friends; the whole world is too narrow for two foes.= _Pers. Pr._ [Greek: Anechou kai apechou]--Bear and forbear.
E meglio un buon amico che cento parente=--One true friend is better than a hundred relations. _It. Pr._ [Greek: he men gar sophia ouden theorei ex hon estai eudaimon anthropos]--Wisdom never contemplates what will make a happy man.
O passi graviora!=--Oh, ye who have suffered greater misfortunes than these! _Virg._ [Greek: ho philoi oudeis philos]--He who has many friends has no friends. _Diogenes Laertius._ [Greek: ho phronimos to alypon diokei ou to hedy]--The aim of the wise man is not to secure pleasure, but to avoid pain.
Nomen atque omen=--A name and at the same time an omen. _Plaut._ [Greek: Nomiz' adelphous tous alethinous philous]--Count true friends as brothers.
All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth.= _Sh._ [Greek: all' ou Zeus andressi noemata panta teleuta]--Zeus, however, does not give effect to all the schemes of man. _Hom._ [Greek: Allos ego]--Alter ego.
Eggs of an hour, bread of a day, wine of a year, but a friend of thirty years is best.= _It. Pr._ [Greek: Engya; para d' ate]--Be security, and mischief is nigh.
Oil, wine, and friends improve by age.= _It. Pr._ [Greek: oimoi; ti d' oimoi? thneta gar peponthamen]--Alas! but why alas? We only suffer what other mortals do. [Greek: oinou de meket' ontos, ouk estin Kypris]--Where there is no longer any wine there is no love. _Euripides._ [Greek: hokosa pharmaka ouk ietai sideros ietai, hosa sideros ouk ietai pyr ietai]--What medicines do not heal, the lance will; what the lance does not heal, fire will.
"Pray take notice," said the countess, "that my present residence is 22 Rue de Rivoli, and that I am at home to my friends every Saturday evening. So now, you are both forewarned." The young men bowed, and quitted the box. Upon reaching their stalls, they found the whole of the audience in the parterre standing up and directing their gaze towards the box formerly possessed by the Russian ambassador. A man of from thirty-five to forty years of age, dressed in deep black, had just entered, accompanied by a young woman dressed after the Eastern style. The lady was surpassingly beautiful, while the rich magnificence of her attire drew all eyes upon her. "Hullo," said Albert; "it is Monte Cristo and his Greek!"
Nor then forgat brave Sthenelus his charge Received from Diomede, but his own steeds Detaining distant from the boisterous war, Stretch'd tight the reins, and hook'd them fast behind. The coursers of Æneas next he seized Ardent, and them into the host of Greece Driving remote, consign'd them to his care, Whom far above all others his compeers He loved, Deipylus, his bosom friend Congenial. Him he charged to drive them thence Into the fleet, then, mounting swift his own, Lash'd after Diomede; he, fierce in arms, Pursued the Cyprian Goddess, conscious whom, Not Pallas, not Enyo, waster dread Of cities close-beleaguer'd, none of all Who o'er the battle's bloody course preside, But one of softer kind and prone to fear. When, therefore, her at length, after long chase Through all the warring multitude he reach'd, With his protruded spear her gentle hand He wounded, piercing through her thin attire Ambrosial, by themselves the graces wrought, Her inside wrist, fast by the rosy palm. Blood follow'd, but immortal; ichor pure, Such as the blest inhabitants of heaven May bleed, nectareous; for the Gods eat not Man's food, nor slake as he with sable wine Their thirst, thence bloodless and from death exempt. She, shrieking, from her arms cast down her son, And Phoebus, in impenetrable clouds Him hiding, lest the spear of some brave Greek Should pierce his bosom, caught him swift away. Then shouted brave Tydides after her--
Ajax! abiding here, exhort ye both (Heroic Lycomedes and thyself) The Greeks to battle. Thither I depart To aid our friends, which service once perform'd Duly, I will incontinent return.
To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied. Young friend! (since thou remind'st me of that theme) Fame here reports that num'rous suitors haunt Thy palace for thy mother's sake, and there Much evil perpetrate in thy despight. But say, endur'st thou willing their controul Imperious, or because the people, sway'd By some response oracular, incline Against thee? But who knows? the time may come When to his home restored, either alone, Or aided by the force of all the Greeks, Ulysses may avenge the wrong; at least, Should Pallas azure-eyed thee love, as erst At Troy, the scene of our unnumber'd woes, She lov'd Ulysses (for I have not known The Gods assisting so apparently A mortal man, as him Minerva there) Should Pallas view thee also with like love And kind solicitude, some few of those Should dream, perchance, of wedlock never more.
So he; and, by his admonition stay'd, The Greeks fled not. Then, all around thee stood The daughters of the Ancient of the Deep, Mourning disconsolate; with heav'nly robes They clothed thy corse, and all the Muses nine Deplored thee in full choir with sweetest tones Responsive, nor one Greecian hadst thou seen Dry-eyed, such grief the Muses moved in all. Full sev'nteen days we, day and night, deplored Thy death, both Gods in heav'n and men below, But, on the eighteenth day, we gave thy corse Its burning, and fat sheep around thee slew Num'rous, with many a pastur'd ox moon-horn'd. We burn'd thee clothed in vesture of the Gods, With honey and with oil feeding the flames Abundant, while Achaia's Heroes arm'd, Both horse and foot, encompassing thy pile, Clash'd on their shields, and deaf'ning was the din. But when the fires of Vulcan had at length Consumed thee, at the dawn we stored thy bones In unguent and in undiluted wine; For Thetis gave to us a golden vase Twin-ear'd, which she profess'd to have received From Bacchus, work divine of Vulcan's hand. Within that vase, Achilles, treasured lie Thine and the bones of thy departed friend Patroclus, but a sep'rate urn we gave To those of brave Antilochus, who most Of all thy friends at Ilium shared thy love And thy respect, thy friend Patroclus slain. Around both urns we piled a noble tomb, (We warriors of the sacred Argive host) On a tall promontory shooting far Into the spacious Hellespont, that all Who live, and who shall yet be born, may view Thy record, even from the distant waves. Then, by permission from the Gods obtain'd, To the Achaian Chiefs in circus met Thetis appointed games. I have beheld The burial rites of many an Hero bold, When, on the death of some great Chief, the youths Girding their loins anticipate the prize, But sight of those with wonder fill'd me most, So glorious past all others were the games By silver-footed Thetis giv'n for thee, For thou wast ever favour'd of the Gods. Thus, hast thou not, Achilles! although dead, Foregone thy glory, but thy fair report Is universal among all mankind; But, as for me, what recompense had I, My warfare closed? for whom, at my return, Jove framed such dire destruction by the hands Of fell Ægisthus and my murth'ress wife.
Juno! wouldst thou on thy celestial throne Assist my counsels, howso'er in heart He differ now, Neptune should soon his will Submissive bend to thy desires and mine. But if sincerity be in thy words And truth, repairing to the blest abodes Send Iris hither, with the archer God Apollo; that she, visiting the host Of Greece, may bid the Sovereign of the Deep Renounce the fight, and seek his proper home. Apollo's part shall be to rouse again Hector to battle, to inspire his soul Afresh with courage, and all memory thence To banish of the pangs which now he feels. Apollo also shall again repulse Achaia's host, which with base panic fill'd, Shall even to Achilles' ships be driven. Achilles shall his valiant friend exhort Patroclus forth; him under Ilium's walls Shall glorious Hector slay; but many a youth Shall perish by Patroclus first, with whom, My noble son Sarpedon. Peleus' son, Resentful of Patroclus' death, shall slay Hector, and I will urge ceaseless, myself, Thenceforth the routed Trojans back again, Till by Minerva's aid the Greeks shall take Ilium's proud city; till that day arrive My wrath shall burn, nor will I one permit Of all the Immortals to assist the Greeks, But will perform Achilles' whole desire. Such was my promise to him at the first, Ratified by a nod that self-same day When Thetis clasp'd my knees, begging revenge And glory for her city-spoiler son.
To whom the godlike Paris thus replied. Since Hector! thou art pleased with no just cause To censure me, I may decline, perchance, Much more the battle on some future day, For I profess some courage, even I. Witness our constant conflict with the Greeks Here, on this spot, since first led on by thee The host of Troy waged battle at the ships. But those our friends of whom thou hast inquired Are slain, Deiphobus alone except And royal Helenus, who in the hand Bear each a wound inflicted by the spear, And have retired; but Jove their life preserved. Come now--conduct us whither most thine heart Prompts thee, and thou shalt find us ardent all To face like danger; what we can, we will, The best and most determined can no more.
To whom the Hero amber-hair'd replied. Ye Gods! the offspring of indeed a friend Hath reach'd my house, of one who hath endured Arduous conflicts num'rous for my sake; And much I purpos'd, had Olympian Jove Vouchsaf'd us prosp'rous passage o'er the Deep, To have receiv'd him with such friendship here As none beside. In Argos I had then Founded a city for him, and had rais'd A palace for himself; I would have brought The Hero hither, and his son, with all His people, and with all his wealth, some town Evacuating for his sake, of those Ruled by myself, and neighb'ring close my own. Thus situate, we had often interchanged Sweet converse, nor had other cause at last Our friendship terminated or our joys, Than death's black cloud o'ershadowing him or me. But such delights could only envy move Ev'n in the Gods, who have, of all the Greeks, Amerc'd _him_ only of his wish'd return.
Monte Cristo reflected one instant. "You will speak in Italian," said he. Then, turning towards Albert,--"It is a pity you do not understand either ancient or modern Greek, both of which Haidee speaks so fluently; the poor child will be obliged to talk to you in Italian, which will give you but a very false idea of her powers of conversation." The count made a sign to Haidee to address his visitor. "Sir," she said to Morcerf, "you are most welcome as the friend of my lord and master." This was said in excellent Tuscan, and with that soft Roman accent which makes the language of Dante as sonorous as that of Homer. Then, turning to Ali, she directed him to bring coffee and pipes, and when he had left the room to execute the orders of his young mistress she beckoned Albert to approach nearer to her. Monte Cristo and Morcerf drew their seats towards a small table, on which were arranged music, drawings, and vases of flowers. Ali then entered bringing coffee and chibouques; as to M. Baptistin, this portion of the building was interdicted to him. Albert refused the pipe which the Nubian offered him. "Oh, take it--take it," said the count; "Haidee is almost as civilized as a Parisian; the smell of an Havana is disagreeable to her, but the tobacco of the East is a most delicious perfume, you know."
Brave Telamonian Teucer, oh, my friend, Thus shoot, that light may visit once again The Danaï, and Telamon rejoice! Thee Telamon within his own abode Rear'd although spurious; mount him, in return, Although remote, on glory's heights again. I tell thee, and the effect shall follow sure, Let but the Thunderer and Minerva grant The pillage of fair Ilium to the Greeks, And I will give to thy victorious hand, After my own, the noblest recompense, A tripod or a chariot with its steeds, Or some fair captive to partake thy bed.
To whom replied Jove, Sovereign of the storms, Thou know'st my council, Shaker of the shores! And wherefore ye are call'd. Although ordain'd So soon to die, they interest me still. Myself, here seated on Olympus' top, With contemplation will my mind indulge Of yon great spectacle; but ye, the rest, Descend into the field, Trojan or Greek Each to assist, as each shall most incline. For should Achilles in the field no foe Find save the Trojans, quickly should they fly Before the rapid force of Peleus' son. They trembled ever at his look, and since Such fury for his friend hath fired his heart, I fear lest he anticipate the will Of Fate, and Ilium perish premature.
To whom brave Hector louring, and in wrath. Polydamas, I like not thy advice Who bidd'st us in our city skulk, again Imprison'd there. Are ye not yet content? Wish ye for durance still in your own towers? Time was, when in all regions under heaven Men praised the wealth of Priam's city stored With gold and brass; but all our houses now Stand emptied of their hidden treasures rare. Jove in his wrath hath scatter'd them; our wealth Is marketed, and Phrygia hath a part Purchased, and part Mæonia's lovely land. But since the son of wily Saturn old Hath given me glory now, and to inclose The Grecians in their fleet hemm'd by the sea, Fool! taint not with such talk the public mind. For not a Trojan here will thy advice Follow, or shall; it hath not my consent. But thus I counsel. Let us, band by band, Throughout the host take supper, and let each, Guarded against nocturnal danger, watch. And if a Trojan here be rack'd in mind Lest his possessions perish, let him cast His golden heaps into the public maw, Far better so consumed than by the Greeks. Then, with the morrow's dawn, all fair array'd In battle, we will give them at their fleet Sharp onset, and if Peleus' noble son Have risen indeed to conflict for the ships, The worse for him. I shall not for his sake Avoid the deep-toned battle, but will firm Oppose his utmost. Either he shall gain Or I, great glory. Mars his favors deals Impartial, and the slayer oft is slain. So counsell'd Hector, whom with shouts of praise The Trojans answer'd:--fools, and by the power Of Pallas of all sober thought bereft! For all applauded Hector, who had given Advice pernicious, and Polydamas, Whose counsel was discreet and wholesome none. So then they took repast. But all night long The Grecians o'er Patroclus wept aloud, While, standing in the midst, Pelides led The lamentation, heaving many a groan, And on the bosom of his breathless friend Imposing, sad, his homicidal hands. As the grim lion, from whose gloomy lair Among thick trees the hunter hath his whelps Purloin'd, too late returning mourns his loss, Then, up and down, the length of many a vale Courses, exploring fierce the robber's foot, Incensed as he, and with a sigh deep-drawn Thus to his Myrmidons Achilles spake.
To whom Telemachus, discrete, replied. Howe'er it interest us, let us leave This question, Mentor! He, I am assured, Returns no more, but hath already found A sad, sad fate by the decree of heav'n. But I would now interrogate again Nestor, and on a different theme, for him In human rights I judge, and laws expert, And in all knowledge beyond other men; For he hath govern'd, as report proclaims, Three generations; therefore in my eyes He wears the awful impress of a God. Oh Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me true; What was the manner of Atrides' death, Wide-ruling Agamemnon? Tell me where Was Menelaus? By what means contrived Ægisthus to inflict the fatal blow, Slaying so much a nobler than himself? Had not the brother of the Monarch reach'd Achaian Argos yet, but, wand'ring still In other climes, his long absence gave Ægisthus courage for that bloody deed? Whom answer'd the Gerenian Chief renown'd. My son! I will inform thee true; meantime Thy own suspicions border on the fact. Had Menelaus, Hero, amber hair'd, Ægisthus found living at his return From Ilium, never on _his_ bones the Greeks Had heap'd a tomb, but dogs and rav'ning fowls Had torn him lying in the open field Far from the town, nor him had woman wept Of all in Greece, for he had foul transgress'd. But we, in many an arduous task engaged, Lay before Ilium; he, the while, secure Within the green retreats of Argos, found Occasion apt by flatt'ry to delude The spouse of Agamemnon; she, at first, (The royal Clytemnestra) firm refused The deed dishonourable (for she bore A virtuous mind, and at her side a bard Attended ever, whom the King, to Troy Departing, had appointed to the charge.) But when the Gods had purposed to ensnare Ægisthus, then dismissing far remote The bard into a desart isle, he there Abandon'd him to rav'ning fowls a prey, And to his own home, willing as himself, Led Clytemnestra. Num'rous thighs he burn'd On all their hallow'd altars to the Gods, And hung with tap'stry, images, and gold Their shrines, his great exploit past hope atchiev'd. We (Menelaus and myself) had sailed From Troy together, but when we approach'd Sunium, headland of th' Athenian shore, There Phœbus, sudden, with his gentle shafts Slew Menelaus' pilot while he steer'd The volant bark, Phrontis, Onetor's son, A mariner past all expert, whom none In steerage match'd, what time the tempest roar'd. Here, therefore, Menelaus was detained, Giving his friend due burial, and his rites Funereal celebrating, though in haste Still to proceed. But when, with all his fleet The wide sea traversing, he reach'd at length Malea's lofty foreland in his course, Rough passage, then, and perilous he found. Shrill blasts the Thund'rer pour'd into his sails, And wild waves sent him mountainous. His ships There scatter'd, some to the Cydonian coast Of Crete he push'd, near where the Jardan flows. Beside the confines of Gortyna stands, Amid the gloomy flood, a smooth rock, steep Toward the sea, against whose leftward point Phæstus by name, the South wind rolls the surge Amain, which yet the rock, though small, repells. Hither with part he came, and scarce the crews Themselves escaped, while the huge billows broke Their ships against the rocks; yet five he saved, Which winds and waves drove to the Ægyptian shore.
He spake; they glad complied, and wiping off The dust, put on their tunics. Then again Achilles other prizes yet proposed, The rapid runner's meed. First, he produced A silver goblet of six measures; earth Own'd not its like for elegance of form. Skilful Sidonian artists had around Embellish'd it, and o'er the sable deep Phoenician merchants into Lemnos' port Had borne it, and the boon to Thoas given; But Jason's son, Euneüs, in exchange For Priam's son Lycaon, to the hand Had pass'd it of Patroclus famed in arms. Achilles this, in honor of his friend, Set forth, the swiftest runner's recompense. The second should a fatted ox receive Of largest size, and he assign'd of gold A just half-talent to the worst and last. He stood erect, and to the Greeks he cried.
"You're right," said Wemmick; "it's the genuine look. Much as if one nostril was caught up with a horse-hair and a little fish-hook. Yes, he came to the same end; quite the natural end here, I assure you. He forged wills, this blade did, if he didn't also put the supposed testators to sleep too. You were a gentlemanly Cove, though" (Mr. Wemmick was again apostrophizing), "and you said you could write Greek. Yah, Bounceable! What a liar you were! I never met such a liar as you!" Before putting his late friend on his shelf again, Wemmick touched the largest of his mourning rings and said, "Sent out to buy it for me, only the day before."
Patroclus, noble friend! what hast thou spoken? Me neither prophesy that I have heard Holds in suspense, nor aught that I have learn'd From Thetis with authority of Jove! Hence springs, and hence alone, my grief of heart; If one, in nought superior to myself Save in his office only, should by force Amerce me of my well-earn'd recompense-- How then? There lies the grief that stings my soul. The virgin chosen for me by the sons Of Greece, my just reward, by my own spear Obtain'd when I Eëtion's city took, Her, Agamemnon, leader of the host From my possession wrung, as I had been Some alien wretch, unhonor'd and unknown. But let it pass; anger is not a flame To feed for ever; I affirm'd, indeed, Mine inextinguishable till the shout Of battle should invade my proper barks; But thou put on my glorious arms, lead forth My valiant Myrmidons, since such a cloud, So dark, of dire hostility surrounds The fleet, and the Achaians, by the waves Hemm'd in, are prison'd now in narrow space. Because the Trojans meet not in the field My dazzling helmet, therefore bolder grown All Ilium comes abroad; but had I found Kindness at royal Agamemnon's hands, Soon had they fled, and with their bodies chok'd The streams, from whom ourselves now suffer siege For in the hands of Diomede his spear No longer rages rescuing from death The afflicted Danaï, nor hear I more The voice of Agamemnon issuing harsh From his detested throat, but all around The burst of homicidal Hector's cries, Calling his Trojans on; they loud insult The vanquish'd Greeks, and claim the field their own. Go therefore, my Patroclus; furious fall On these assailants, even now preserve From fire the only hope of our return. But hear the sum of all; mark well my word; So shalt thou glorify me in the eyes Of all the Danaï, and they shall yield Brisëis mine, with many a gift beside. The Trojans from the fleet expell'd, return. Should Juno's awful spouse give thee to win Victory, be content; seek not to press The Trojans without me, for thou shalt add Still more to the disgrace already mine. Much less, by martial ardor urged, conduct Thy slaughtering legions to the walls of Troy, Lest some immortal power on her behalf Descend, for much the Archer of the skies Loves Ilium. No--the fleet once saved, lead back Thy band, and leave the battle to themselves. For oh, by all the powers of heaven I would That not one Trojan might escape of all, Nor yet a Grecian, but that we, from death Ourselves escaping, might survive to spread Troy's sacred bulwarks on the ground, alone.
Some days after this meeting, Albert de Morcerf visited the Count of Monte Cristo at his house in the Champs Elysees, which had already assumed that palace-like appearance which the count's princely fortune enabled him to give even to his most temporary residences. He came to renew the thanks of Madame Danglars which had been already conveyed to the count through the medium of a letter, signed "Baronne Danglars, nee Hermine de Servieux." Albert was accompanied by Lucien Debray, who, joining in his friend's conversation, added some passing compliments, the source of which the count's talent for finesse easily enabled him to guess. He was convinced that Lucien's visit was due to a double feeling of curiosity, the larger half of which sentiment emanated from the Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin. In short, Madame Danglars, not being able personally to examine in detail the domestic economy and household arrangements of a man who gave away horses worth 30,000 francs and who went to the opera with a Greek slave wearing diamonds to the amount of a million of money, had deputed those eyes, by which she was accustomed to see, to give her a faithful account of the mode of life of this incomprehensible person. But the count did not appear to suspect that there could be the slightest connection between Lucien's visit and the curiosity of the baroness.
So they; then, turning from the road oblique, Among the carcases each laid him down. Dolon, suspecting nought, ran swiftly by. But when such space was interposed as mules Plow in a day (for mules the ox surpass Through fallows deep drawing the ponderous plow) Both ran toward him. Dolon at the sound Stood; for he hoped some Trojan friends at hand From Hector sent to bid him back again. But when within spear's cast, or less they came, Knowing them enemies he turn'd to flight Incontinent, whom they as swift pursued. As two fleet hounds sharp fang'd, train'd to the chase, Hang on the rear of flying hind or hare, And drive her, never swerving from the track, Through copses close; she screaming scuds before; So Diomede and dread Ulysses him Chased constant, intercepting his return. And now, fast-fleeting to the ships, he soon Had reach'd the guard, but Pallas with new force Inspired Tydides, lest a meaner Greek Should boast that he had smitten Dolon first, And Diomede win only second praise. He poised his lifted spear, and thus exclaim'd.