"Socrates can do so the best. He can drink half a jar of wine in one pull, without winking."
As a matter of fact, Socrates was notorious for his drinking powers, but now he was not in the mood. "Not to-day! Wine is bitter to my taste," he said.
And turning to Pericles, he whispered: "Evil eyes have come here. This Aristophanes is not our friend! Do you know him?"
"Very little, but he looks as though he would like to murder us."
Alcibiades continued to address the skeleton: "Thus looks Athens at this moment! Sparta and the Persian King have gnawed off its flesh; Cleon has tanned its skin; the allies have gouged out its eyes; the citizens have drawn out its teeth,--those citizens whom Aristophanes knows and whom he will soon describe. Here"s to you, skeleton! "[Greek: _Polla metaxu pelei kulikos kai cheileos akrou_]!""
There was a sudden change in the scene. The skeleton sank backwards like a drunken man; the lamps began to sway on their chains, the salt-cellar was spilt on the table.
"Ohioh!" cried Alcibiades, "Tralall! Ha! Ha! Ha! The table wobbles, the sofa rocks; am I drunk, or is the room drunk?"
All were alarmed, but Socrates commanded quiet. "A G.o.d is near!
The earth shakes, and I hear ... does it thunder? No! That is an earthquake."
All jumped up, but Socrates continued, "Be quiet! It is already past."
After they had all taken their places again, he continued: "I was five years old when Sparta was visited by an earthquake; twenty thousand men perished, and only six houses remained standing. Then it was Sparta.
Now it is Athens. Yes, friends, a voice says to me, "Before a babe can become a man, we shall have been dispersed and destroyed like a bevy of birds.""
Again the dog barked, and the door-keeper shouted. There entered an uninvited guest in a state of excitement.
Alcibiades greeted him. "It is Nicias," he said. "Now I will be sober; the thoughtful Nicias comes to our feast. What is the matter?"
"Allow an uninvited guest."
"Speak, Nicias!"
"Pericles!" began the new-comer hesitatingly, "your friend, our friend, the glory of Athens and h.e.l.las,--Phidias is accused...."
"Stop! Silence!"
"Accused! O shame and disgrace! I cannot say it without weeping: Phidias is accused of having purloined gold from the statue of Athene."
The silence which followed was first broken by Pericles: "Phidias hides his face in his mantle; he is ashamed for Athens. But by the G.o.ds and the nether world, let us swear to his innocence."
"We swear!" exclaimed all like one man.
"I swear also," said Nicias.
"Athens is dishonoured, if one has to swear that Phidias has not stolen."
Nicias had approached Pericles, and, bowing to Aspasia, he whispered, "Pericles, your son Paralos is ill."
"Of the pestilence! Follow me, Aspasia."
"He is not my son, but yours; therefore I follow you."
"The house collapses, friends depart, all beauty pa.s.ses away, the ugly remains."
"And the G.o.ds sleep."
"Or have emigrated."
"Or are dead! Let us make new ones."
Another shock of earthquake extinguished the lamps, and all went out into the street, except Socrates and Alcibiades.
"Phidias accused of theft! Let the walls of the world fall in!" said Socrates, and sank, as was his custom, into a fit of absent-mindedness that resembled sleep.
Alcibiades took one of the largest double-goblets, veiled it, and improvised the following dithyramb:
"May everything break up from Pindus to the Caucasus!
Then will Prometheus be unbound and bestow fire again on frozen mortals!
And Zeus descends to Hades, Pallas sells herself; Apollo breaks his lyre in two, and cobbles shoes; Ares lets his war-horse go, and minds sheep; And on the ruins of all earthly glory, stands Alcibiades alone, In the full consciousness of his almightiness, And laughs!"
The pestilence had broken out in Athens accompanied by shocks of earthquake.
When Pericles, accompanied by Aspasia, reached his house, his son by his divorced wife was dead.
According to the prevailing custom, and to show that he had not been murdered, the corpse was placed in the doorway. A small coffin of cedar-wood, painted red and black, stood on a bier, and showed the dead child dressed in a white shroud. He had a garland on his head, woven of the plant of death, the strong-scented Apium or celery. In his mouth he had an obol as Charon"s fee.
Pericles uttered a prayer in an undertone, without showing especially deep sorrow, for he had gone through much, and learnt to suffer.
"Two sons the G.o.ds have taken from me. Are they enough to atone?"
"What have you to atone for?" asked Aspasia.
"One must suffer for another; the individual for the State. Pericles has suffered for Athens."
"Pardon me that my tears dry sooner than yours. The thought that _our_ son lives, gives me comfort."
"It comforts me also, but not so much."
"Shall I go, before your wife comes?"
"You must not leave me, for I am ill."
"You have spoken of it for a long time now. Is it serious?"
"My soul is sick. When the State suffers, I am ill.... There comes the mother of the dead."
A black-robed woman appeared in the doorway; she wore a veil in order to hide the fact that her hair was cut off; she had a garland in her hand, and a slave followed her with a torch.
She did not immediately notice Aspasia"s presence, greeted her former husband with a glance, and laid the garland at the dead boy"s feet. "I only bring a funeral garland for my son," she said, "but instead of the obol, he shall take a kiss from the lips of his mother."