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Chaireas and Kallirhoe

or, The Loves of Chaereas and Callirrhoe

by Chariton of Aphrodisios


TO the Right Honorable Countess of Northumberland.


I beg leave to return all imaginable thanks to your Ladyship, for permitting me to adorn,
with your illustrious name, the ensuing translation, made by two young persons, whose
happiness is of infinite concern to me; and who present their most humble duty, and most
profound respects to your Ladyship.

I was particularly encouraged to request this great honor, from a reflection, that your
noble progenitors, while they signalized themselves, both in the cabinet and in the field,
indulged the most generous protection to the Muses. On this occasion, the late Duchess of
Somerset, your Ladyship's mother, shines with peculiar luster. Her Grace having been not
only a most bountiful patroness to every genius, but also inspiring them to excel, by the
models she herself produced for their imitation.

The Greek original was written a great many centuries ago, and found but of late years.
Being an elegant performance, it is presumed that it may prove a subject of curiosity to
people of taste; and give them as much pleasure, as would the discovery of a beautiful
antique statue, or a group of figures? It is well known, that the Greeks are the most
perfect sources, of all things great and excellent, in every species of literature, and the
polite arts.

The word ROMANCE, is apt to prejudice many against all works under that title; as
supposing them to be a mere rhapsody of incredible events; treating of puerile loves, and
written in an inflated and unnatural style. But the present offering has much the
appearance of a true story; it containing a great variety of incidents, all well prepared; and
very artfully interwoven; with scarce any thing improbable or improper; and the whole
drawn up with a gravity of style becoming an historian. Chaireas and Kallirhoe are
extremely unfortunate, but then they are virtuous: Circumstances which must endear their
characters to a person of the COUNTESS OF NORTHUMBERLAND'S distinguished humanity.

Your Ladyship, after having added radiance to a court, and been the delight of one
kingdom, will soon accompany your noble LORD to another: the government whereof, our
gracious SOVEREIGN has conferred on him; and thereby given a conspicuous proof, of his
royal regard and attention to the happiness of Ireland. How glorious an opportunity now
offers, for his EXCELLENCY to immortalize himself; by continuing the exercise of the most
exalted of all passions, (a passion so familiar to him) that of DOING GOOD! How vastly
extensive will be his circle on that august occasion! Methinks I hear the people of Ireland
blessing his delegated sway; and praying, that he might preside over them, for ever. But
as this would be impossible, me thinks I see them attending his departure, from them,
with sighs; imploring Heaven to grant him a prosperous voyage, and a speedy return.—
What transports must your Ladyship feel, when sharing all these true, these permanent
honors with a comfort, who so justly merits the noblest a grateful people could bestow!

The idea is exceedingly delightful to my self; as is every thing which adds felicity and
splendor to the house of NORTHUMBERLAND: and that it may continue with glory, the latest
ages, is the unsigned wish of,


Your Ladyship's

most humble,

most obedient,

most devoted Servant,


THE loves of Chaireas and Kallirhoe, by Chariton of Aphrodisios, being one of the few
Greek romances which have escaped the injuries of time; are thought to be no
inconsiderable acquisition to the republic of letters.

The original Greek manuscript, supposed to be transcribed in the thirteenth century, was
found in the celebrated abbey at Florence; intermixed with twenty-two other pieces by
various authors; among which are Achilles Tatius, Longus, Xenophon Ephesius, and
Aesop's Fables. The subjects of the other treatises relate to the Christian religion, or to the
Byzantine historians. It was imagined, that another manuscript of Chariton was lodged in
the Vatican Library; but, after the most strict search, no such copy could be found. Many
persons of great erudition, particularly Father Montfaucon, and Mr. Burmann, were vastly
desirous of setting this work in print; and used their utmost endeavors to promote an
edition of it, but without success.

But about forty years since, Salvini and Cocchi, whose literary productions reflect great
honor on their native country, transcribed very accurately, in the above-mentioned abbey,
the Greek manuscript of Chariton, with an intent to publish it: a merit, however, that was
reserved for the very learned Mr. D'Orville of Amsterdam.

For that gentleman, after having visited England and France, travelled into Italy; and
getting acquainted in Florence, with the above-mentioned Dr. Cocchi; this latter, with the
humanity and politeness which throw a luster round the scholar, not only stowed him the
copy he had taken of Chariton, with his own curious observations, and those of Salvini
upon it; but delivered all these pieces into his hand with full liberty for him to publish the

Mr. D'Orville carrying these several pieces to Holland, was obliged, through a
multiplicity of affairs, to suspend in a great measure, during some years, his design of
preparing Chariton for the press. But eighteen years ago, he set seriously about it, and
pursued his task with vast application. Afterwards Mr. Reiskius, Arabic possessor in
Leipsic, and an intimate friend of Mr. D'Orville, favored him with a Latin translation of
Chariton, with many curious emendations and conjectures: all which, with the Greek
original, and a surprising variety of learned notes, by Mr. D'Orville, were published by
him, in a very fair and voluminous quarto at Amsterdam, anno 1750. That work is
dedicated to the late Prince of Orange, whose most amiable disposition, and great love of
learning and learned men, are well-known. The munificence of that Prince, gave Mr.
D'Orville leisure to pursue with ease and cheerfulness, his literary toils; for which he
discovers the deepest sense of gratitude, in his Dedication to that excellent Prince —
Thus far as to the manuscript.

With regard to the Author, we find no traces concerning him among the ancients, and he
is but transiently mentioned by writers since the revival of letters. It is probable, that he
was. born in Aphrodisios, a city of Caria, famous for the worship of Venus, and in which
learning and the polite arts flourished considerably; except we are to suppose, that
Chariton feigned both his name and his country, to accommodate them to the subject of
his work; and to give it the greater air of a true history, which seems to have been his
view in every part of it. He styles himself Amanuensis to Athenagoras, which
employment, though a servile one among the Romans, was honorable in some countries.
Nicholas Damascenus, who wrote many orations, and went on several embassies from
Herod, was called Amanuensis to that Jewish Prince.

Chariton seems to be posterior to Heliodorus, Achilles Tatius, Longus, and Xenophon

Ephesius. He probably lived about the beginning of the sixth century, and under the
Christian Emperors: but whether he himself professed the Christian Faith is uncertain. It
appears, however, from some passages in his book, that he had seen the sacred writings.
We must not infer that he was a heathen, because he makes great use of the pagan
mythology, since the texture of his story required him to have frequent recourse to it.

With respect to the work, the incidents in it are supposed to have happened about four
hundred years before the birth of Christ. The diction of Chariton is singular, and less pure
than, those of Heliodorus, Achilles Tatius, Longus, and Xenophon Ephesius: but there is
scarce a phrase in Chariton, which may not be justified by the authority of more delicate
writers. His diction is less florid than those of the above-mentioned authors; owing
probably to his desire of appearing every where like an historian, as was hinted. But he
cannot be too much applauded for the chastity of his pen; it not presenting a single image
that may raise a blush in the most modest cheek: the contrary whereof is sometimes seen
in Achilles Tatius, and Xenophon: a fault which, perhaps, should be ascribed to the
licentiousness of the times they lived in. -- Most of the above particulars are from the
Latin Preface and the Notes to Chariton, by Mr. D'Orville, whose lucubration on that
author, form a valuable treasure of Greek erudition.

With regard to this English version, it was at first no more than an extensive Exercise, I
had set two of my Daughters; the enlightening of whose minds I have ever thought a
more worthy object, than the advancing of my own fortune. Amid their improvement, in
such articles as are immediately required of their sex, and without which a woman makes
a contemptible figure, they devote some hours, every day, to the study of the modern
languages, and the belles lettres, a great source of instruction and pleasure, both to
themselves and to me. Their version, which I revised with as much attention as many
other indispensable duties would permit, was first drawn from an elegant Italian
translation of Chariton, printed in quarto at Rome, anno 1752, and dedicated to the
Princess of Sulmona. It was afterwards compared with Mr. Reiskius's Latin translation of
our author, and occasionally with the original, and Mr. D'Orville's notes, I now hear, that
a French version of Chariton, is just published abroad.

One advantage, it is presumed, in the subsequent sheets, is, the precision with which the
DIALOGUE is marked, divided throughout; a circumstance not met with, either in the Greek,
or any of the versions I have seen of this author; which must necessarily throw great
perspicuity over every part of the narrative. -- What beautiful pictures might be drawn,
from many of the incidents in this work!

Great pains have been taken with this English translation, and the utmost endeavors used
to give the whole the air of an original, and to commit the fewest errors possible;
notwithstanding which many may, perhaps, be found. Should this be the case, it will be
esteemed a singular favor in any person who shall point out such, with that spirit of
candor and good-nature which charms in the ancient critics; a spirit that becomes the
gentleman; and ought to be inseparable from study of literature.

But whatever reception this performance may meet with, the Public may be assured that
the TRANSLATORS, who, with the EDITOR, pay the most profound deference to their
judgment, do not intend to trouble them again on a like occasion,

LONDON, 1763.




CHARITON of Aphrodisios, amanuensis to Athenagoras the rhetorician, will relate the

love adventures of two Syracusians.

Hermocrates, praetor of Syracuse, he who conquered the Athenians, had a daughter,

Kallirhoe by name; a wonderful maiden, and the ornament of all Sicily. Her exquisite
beauty did not resemble that of a mortal, of a Nereid, or of a mountain-nymph; but shone
lovely as that of Venus, when in her virgin state. The same of Kallirhoe's peerless charms
spread far around; so that not only the sons of many Sicilian princes, as well as private
gentlemen; but also a multitude of others, from Italy, Epirus, and from all the adjacent
islands, came to pay. their court to her. The god of love having assembled these suitors,
gave here a signal proof of her mighty power for there was a most engaging youth,
named Chaireas, who, as Achilles is described in Homer, -- or, like Alebiades surpassed
all other men in beauty. Ariston, his father, was next in rank at Syracuse to Hermocrates.
An obstinate hatred, arising from .the administration of affairs, had long subsisted
between them; whence they opposed each other on every occasion, both public and
private. Cupid, who delights in novelty; and whose greatest pleasure is the working of
miracles, sought for an opportunity like to that which follows.

It was the festival of Venus, at which season all the youths of both sexes went to the
temple. The procession being ended, Kallirhoe came out from the fane; when the people
would have adored her as a goddess. Chaireas having left the gymnasium, or school of
bodily exercises, went bright as a star, into the temple. These vigorous exertions had
added beauty to his limbs; and rosy health glowed in his countenance. Now it happened,
that Chaireas and Kallirhoe came to the same part of the temple, the son of Venus having
ordained this meeting and as this goddess had projected an amour, their hearts were
reciprocally inflamed. Chaireas returned home, deeply wounded, but manfully concealed
the conquest made over him; he appearing ashamed of his weakness. But the maiden,
prostrating herself at the feet of Venus, and kissing them, cried thus:—Ah! why didst thou
bring so lovely a youth before mine eyes in thy fane?

Their affection increasing, it tortured them exceedingly; when night coming on, Kallirhoe
blushed at the thoughts of her having disclosed her passion; and Chaireas, though pining
with love, had yet resolution enough to confess to his parents, that he was deeply smitten;
and that were not Kallirhoe given to him in marriage, it would be impossible for him to
live. Ariston, his father, venting a deep sigh, said to him: -- O! my son, thou art an
undone youth; since it is certain, that Hermocrates will never bestow his only daughter on
thee; when there are so many suitors, so greatly thy superiors both in rank and power.
This ought not to be even attempted, except thou wouldest choose to become the object
of public ridicule. In this manner did Ariston endeavor to console his son, whose malady
increased daily; insomuch that he discontinued his accustomed exercises and
amusements. The Gymnasium was very near become a desert, for want of Chaireas; all
the young people being very fond of him. On making a strict enquiry, they discovered the
cause of his malady; and all were moved to pity, on reflecting that so lovely a youth was
in danger of losing his life through so noble a passion.

It was one of those stated days on which the people used to assemble; who being seated,
they made this first and most ardent request, crying aloud; -- Excellent Hermocrates!
mighty captain! save! O save Chaireas! This will be thy most illustrious trophy. — The
whole city demands these nuptials, worthy of both parties. ——- Who could duly
describe this assembly, summoned together, and disposed by Cupid? Hermocrates having
the warmest affection for his fellow citizens, could not refuse their petition, so earnestly
implored; and he, having complied with their request, all the people, rising up on a
sudden in the theatre, the young men flew to Chaireas; and the senators, with the chief
magistrate, followed Hermocrates. The Syracusian women came likewise in crowds, to
conduct Kallirhoe to the bridegroom's house.

Every quarter of the city resounded with Epithalamiums. The squares and streets were
filled with chaplets and lighted torches. Ointments and wine were poured on the
thresholds; and the Syracusians were more joyful this day, than on that when they
triumphed over the Athenians. The virgin, being ignorant of all these matters, lay in bed
sadly weeping, silent, and her head veiled. The nurse approaching her, said: — Arise, my
child! this is the day more ardently wished for, by us, than any other. The city bestows
thee in marriage.— Instantly,

Her heart, her knees, were with a trembling seiz’d.

Kallirhoe not knowing to whom she was to be espoused. She was immediately struck
speechless; her eyes were veiled in darkness; and she almost died away, which. was
considered by the spectators as the effect of modesty. But so soon as her waiting-maids
had dressed and adorned her; the parents, leaving the crowd at the door, introduced the
bridegroom to the bride.

Chaireas flying to the virgin, gave her a thousand kisses: who Kallirhoe perceiving him to
be the man she loved, shone forth with greater beauty; as a lamp whose dying flame
receives new splendor by pouring in fresh oil. When she afterwards appeared in public,
the multitude in general were seized with astonishment, and a sacred kind of horror; like
as when Diana is suddenly perceived by the hunters, in the deep solitude of a forest.
Many then present worshipped her; and all being charmed with Chaireas, they
pronounced Kallirhoe thrice happy. In like manner, (according to the poets) were the
nuptials of Thetis celebrated on mount Pelion. Nevertheless some envious deity intruded
here; as it is related, that Discord was present at that marriage.

The original says, He glittered like gold and silver.


FOR the various suitors, being thus baulked in their expectations, were fired with cries
and rage. Though they had hitherto been enemies, they now joined as friends; and, upon
this union, each looking upon himself as injured, they met together. Envy prompted them
to make war on Chaireas: when a certain Italian youth, son to the prince of Rhegium,
rising first, spake thus;— Had any of us obtained Kallirhoe; it would not have raised my
indignation; as one of the combatants, in the Gymnastic exercises, must necessarily bear
away the prize. But for us to be supplanted, by a man who never underwent the least
fatigue, in order to win Kallirhoe, is an insult I can no ways brook. We were amused,
were incessantly on the watch at her door; were caressing her nurses and waiting-maids;
and making rich presents to her other attendants. How long have we been her slaves! But
the worst circumstance is, the hatred which it has excited among us, who are rivals. Who
can bear the thoughts that a pathic, a beggar, a worthless wretch, should be the conqueror;
at a time when princes contended for the victory? And that he, without even risking the
dangers of battle, should bear away the prize?

Yet Chaireas shall not reap any advantage from it; and this marriage should prove fatal to
him. The whole assembly applauded this speech, (the prince of Agrigentum excepted)
who objected to the proposal; but this not out of regard to Chaireas. -- I differ (said he)
from you in opinion, with respect to what is now offered; but will lay before you a much
safer plan. Call to mind that Hermocrates, being very powerful, is not to be contemned;
and therefore, should you attack him openly, it will be to no purpose. We had better have
recourse to stratagem; for even a principality is won by artifice sooner than by violence.
Elect me, unanimously, your captain, in the war you are now declaring against Chaireas;
and I will engage to dissolve this marriage. I will inflame his breast with jealousy; which
being enforced by love, will excite him to revenge this injury. Kallirhoe possesses great
strength of mind; and is free from evil suspicions: but as Chaireas was brought up in the
gymnasium, and consequently is no stranger to the wild follies of youth; he may easily
(his suspicion being raised) be fired with jealousy, so natural to young men. Nor will it be
difficult to get access, or to speak to him.

Scarce had he finished his harangue, when the unanimous voice of the assembly declared,
how greatly they approved of his proposal. They thereupon lest the whole management of
the affair to this prince; thinking him perfectly well qualified to execute the most wily
enterprise. He thereupon put his plan in execution in the manner following.


ONE evening, a messenger brought word to Chaireas, that Ariston his father, then at his
country seat, had fallen down stairs; and that there were little hope of his life. The instant
Chaireas heard this news, though he was extremely fond of his father, he yet regretted his
being obliged to go alone; as he could not yet, with decency, take his bride with him. No
one had had the boldness to bring openly before the nuptial house, the riotous banquet1
that night; but the wooers coming thither privately, lest behind them the indications of
such banquet. They adorned the doors with chaplets, and poured ointments. Libations of
wine slowed along the ground; and torches, half burnt, were scattered about. Daylight
being returned, every one who passed by stopped; agreeably to the illaudable curiosity of
mankind, ever fond of prying into the affairs of others.

Chaireas finding his father somewhat recovered, went back to Kallirhoe with the utmost
speed, And now, seeing a vast crowd of people at the door, he was all amazement at first;
but being told the cause, he rushed forward like one distracted. Finding the chamber-door
shut, he knocked violently; upon which the servant let him in. Flying instantly to
Kallirhoe, his indignation softened into cries; when tearing his garments, he wept bitterly.
Being asked what misfortune had befallen him, he remained speechless; for it was not in
his power to disbelieve his eyes; though he yet was unwilling to credit what was so
repugnant to his desires. While he continued thus perplexed, and trembled in every limb,
Kallirhoe, who knew nothing of what had happened; humbly besought him to tell her
what it was that offended him. To this he replied, (his eyes darting fire) and being grieved
to the soul at the supposed transactions of the past night. -- I bewail, (said he). my
unhappiness in reflecting, that so short a space of time should have blotted me from thy
memory: —— and then reproached her with the nocturnal rioting.

But Kallirhoe, exasperated at so unjust an accusation, thus answered, with a spirit

becoming the daughter of the praetor: -- No one has feasted before my father's house this
night. This door may, very possibly, be accustomed to such kind of revelry; and thy
marrying me, is a mortal wound to thy rivals. -- Saying this, she turned from him; and
drawing her veil over her face, wept bitterly. But lovers are easily reconciled; and
willingly admit of their mutual excuses. Chaireas's soul being then softened, he tenderly
embraced his bride, who was presently satisfied with his repentance. These disputes
served only to increase their passion: and both their parents thought themselves
supremely happy, in finding such concord between their children.

This was a more than Serenade, given by rakes to their mistresses; the marks of which were left before the
door on this occasion, by Chaireas’s rivals, in order to excite his jealousy.


BUT now the prince of Agrigentum paving failed in his first stratagem, resolved to put in
execution a still deeper plot. He had, among his dependants, a parasite of a facetious
disposition, and possessed of every winning grace. The prince ordered this man to act the
lover. And now this latter, making his addresses to Kallirhoe's first waiting-woman, he,
by his passionate and repeated entreaties, stole infinisibly into her heart. It was indeed
with very great difficulty that he could prevail on her to listen to him; but me, at last, was
gained by presents; and by his protesting, that he would certainly hang himself, in case
she did not indulge his ardent wishes. A woman is easily won by a man whom she
supposes to be fond of her. Matters being thus prepared, the author of this project fixed
on another actor, who, though not so handsome as the parasite, was master of the deepest
cunning; and of so smooth and subtle a tongue, that his simulated candor gained him the
confidence of every hearer.

Having instructed this person previously in all he was to say or do; he sent him, (though
not known) to Chaireas, whom he met walking at leisure, about the Palaestra, or place for
bodily exercises, when the man in question thus accosted him.— I once had a son of your
age; who, so long as he lived, greatly admired and esteemed you. Now he being dead, I
look upon you as my offspring: and so excellent is your conduct, that I consider you as a
common good to Sicily. Give me then your whole attention, and I will inform you of
things of the utmost importance to your future life. This wretch having, by his artful
speeches, excited in Chaireas the various passions of hope and fear, together with a
violent curiosity; Chaireas, conjuring him to proceed, he shuffled; and scarce a word
more could be got from him; he saying, in faltering accents: -- That this was not a proper
time; the business he was come upon requiring a conference, and more leisure.

Hereupon Chaireas grew more pressing; he expecting to hear some vastly disagreeable
particulars. And now this vile sycophant taking him by the hand, led him to a solitary
place; when knitting his brows, and assenting an air of sorrow, he shed a few tears,
saying:—— Oh! Chaireas, it is with the utmost reluctance I disclose to you a most
detestable affair, which I long attempted to reveal; yet could not, till now, prevail upon
myself to break it to you. But since you are publicly laughed at, and your misfortune is
become the topic of every conversation, I having a natural antipathy to vice, and the
highest regard for you, could be silent no longer. Know then, that your wife is false to
you; and is you will not believe me, I am ready to set the adulterer, and the abominable
scene, before your eyes.

He spake: when sudden a dark cloud of grief

O'er spread sad Chaireas’ cheek; who scooping up,
With both his hands, black ashes; o'er his head
He sprinkled them, and quite deform’d his face.

He then lay motionless for a considerable time, being unable to list up his head or his
eyes. But having recovered (not his natural voice, but one weak and faint); he said:-- I
implore of thee a shocking favor, which is, to make me an eyewitness to mine own
wretchedness. Set before me, the adulterer, in what manner soever thou mayest think sit;
in order that I may have a more just reason to fly this place; for, as to Kallirhoe, though
she should have injured me, by violating her nuptial vow, I yet would forgive her.

The other replied: -- Pretend that you are going into the country. About midnight be upon
the watch at your own house, and you will see the adulterer enter it.

Matters being thus settled, Chaireas, unable to bear the presence of Kallirhoe, sent her
word, that he was going out of town. In the mean time this disturber of harmony, this
black villain, prepared every thing for his abominable purpose. Night being come,
Chaireas went to his post; while the man who had corrupted Kallirhoe's waiting woman,
hid himself in a narrow passage; acting as one, who attempting a dark work, endeavored
to conceal himself; though, at the same time he did all he could to be seen. The ringlets of
his hair shone, they being presumed with fragrant ointments; his eyes were painted; his
garments gay and effeminate, and his pumps thin. As his weighty rings were deep in
color, they glittered on his singers, though it was dark. Looking then very carefully
round, he drew near the door; and knocking gently, gave the usual signal.

The waiting woman, also was fearful, opened the door softly; When taking him by the
hand, she led him into the house. Chaireas seeing this, could no longer restrain his fury;
but ran to stab the adulterer in the act. The latter, after landing a little at the entry-door,
appeared. Kallirhoe was sitting on the bedside, wishing for her Chaireas; and so deep was
her melancholy, that she had not even permitted her lamp to be lighted. At the sound of
feet, (he heard her husband breathe; and thereupon flew joyfully to meet him. Chaireas
had now no voice left to upbraid her; but being overcome by rage, he, as she approached
him, gave her an unhappy blow with his heel on the stomach; which stopping her breath,
she fell on the floor, and was carried to bed by the servants. Kallirhoe lying thus stretched
out, and speechless, was supposed to be dead by every one who saw her.

FAME, that speedy messenger, soon spread the news of this sad disaster over the whole
city. Sighs and wailings echoed from street to street, till they reached the sea-shore. The
lamentations were as great, and as universal, as is the city had been taken by the enemy.
Chaireas, still fired with anger, shut himself up; and, during the whole night, put his
female servants to the torture, by fire and sword. Kallirhoe's waiting-woman was the first
and last who suffered on this occasion; and, by this means, he finally extorted the truth;
when being moved to compassion, for his (imagined) dear, deceased bride; he would
have killed himself, had he not been prevented by Polycharmus his bosom friend; such as
Homer describes Patroclus to have been with regard to Achilles.

Next morning the chief magistrates arraigned the supposed murderer; they being resolved
to prosecute Chaireas, out of respect to Hermocrates. The populace ran in crowds to the
public square, or court of justice; and were greatly divided in opinion; some crying one
thing, some another. The disappointed suitors inflamed them; and especially the prince of
Agrigentum, who stalking up and down, felt a secret pride, at his having accomplished a
design, which every one else would have thought impracticable.

Now there happened an incident, till then unheard of in a court of justice; which was, that
the indictment being read, the culprit, to whom a certain time was allowed for making his
defense; instead of pleading not guilty, accused himself very strongly; and was the first to
pronounce his own condemnation. He did not even allege any thing to alleviate the
charge; neither calumny, jealousy, nor accident; but spake thus to the people: -- Stone me,
(I beseech ye!) with your own hands, by a public decree. I have bereaved the people of
their crown, their glory; and it would be treating me with too much lenity, should I be
delivered over to the executioner. I must have deserved the most cruel punishment, had I
only killed a she-slave of Hermocrates. Invent then some new kind of torture; for I have
been guilty of a crime worse than sacrilege or parricide. Do not give me burial; let not the
earth be polluted with my impious body, but throw it into the sea.

These words were no sooner uttered, than a general moan broke forth; and the whole
assembly, forgetting the deceased, testified the utmost cries for the survivor. Hermocrates
was the first who defended Chaireas.—— I know (said he) that the blow must have been
involuntary. I observe yonder some people who are laying snares for us; but they shall not
have the satisfaction to see two funerals; nor will I heighten the affection of my deceased
daughter, whom I have often heard declare, that Chaireas's life was dearer to her than her
own. Let us then give over this needless trial, and go and prepare the requisite obsequies.
Let us not permit the corpse of Kallirhoe to be preyed upon by time; as this would lessen
her beauty. Let us lay her in the sepulcher, while thus lovely. The judges thereupon
pronounced him not guilty.


BUT Chaireas could by no means disculpate himself; on the contrary, being desirous of
dying, he sought every method to put an end to his life. Polycharmus finding that there
was but one way lest to save him, spake thus: Thou traitor to thy wife I wilt thou not live
till thou shalt have paid the last honors due to her memory? and wilt thou trust her body
to strange hands? Now is the time for thee to attend to the sepulchral rites, and to
solemnize them with royal splendor.—These words having made an impression on
Chaireas; he exerted his utmost endeavors, in order to hasten the interment. But what
pencil could draw, in its due colors, this magnificent funeral?

Kallirhoe lay extended, in her bridal robes, on a bed of solid gold. She appeared more
charming than ever; and all the spectators compared her to the sleeping Ariadne. First
marched the Syracusian cavalry; themselves and their horses richly caparisoned; and they
preceded immediately the bier. Then followed the infantry, bearing the trophies of the
victories gained by Hermocrates. Next came the senate; and afterwards Hermocrates
surrounded by thousands of people. Ariston was carried, though in a very languishing
condition; he often calling Kallirhoe, his daughter and mistress. Then proceeded the
wives of the citizens in sable vestments. Next were seen the sepulchral riches, all of them
worthy of kings; the first of which was Kallirhoe's dower, in gold and silver: then
exquisitely beautiful garments, and other female ornaments; and Hermocrates had sent
thither many of the enemy's spoils. Here likewise were seen the presents made by her
relations and friends; lastly, came the wealth of Chaireas, who would gladly have burnt
his whole possessions with Kallirhoe's body. The bier or bed was carried by Syracusian
youths; and the procession was closed by a promiscuous multitude of people; among
whom Chaireas was heard to vent the most bitter wailings.

Near the seashore stood a magnificent sepulcher, belonging to Hermocrates; which was
plainly seen at a great distance by those who were out at sea. Such vast wealth was
brought to this Mausoleum, that when the whole was deposited therein, it seemed a
treasury. But now the honors which were thus paid to the deceased Kallirhoe, gave rise to
incidents of a more extraordinary nature.


THERE was a certain pirate, a wicked man, Theron by name, who frequented the seas
from an unjust spirit of gain; and who kept many watchful spies about the ports. This
man had a band of pirates always ready at hand, under the title of a society of pilots.
Theron, having been present at the interment, cast a wishful eye on the riches of it; and at
night, when in bed, he could not sleep for thinking on them; he saying thus to himself:—
Shall I live in perpetual danger; struggling forever with the waves, and murdering the
living for a mere pittance; when I now have an opportunity of making my fortune, by one
dead person? I must make an attempt. This booty shall not escape me. Whom then shall I
make choice of for my companions, on this occasion?

Consider well, (Theron) among thy brave fellows, who is sit for this enterprise.
Zenophanes of Thurium is sagacious, but then he is fearful. Meno of Messene is bold, but
treacherous—Thus did he run over, in imagination, all the pirates; weighing their
respective abilities, in like manner as a banker does his money; rejecting many pieces;
but, at last, approving some as sit for his purpose. Early next morning, he ran from the
ship to the port, to seek for them singly: when he found part at the brothel, and others at
the tavern; all sit comrades for such a captain. Then saying, that he had some necessary
business to communicate; he took them behind the harbor, and spake thus:

I, having found a treasure, have chosen you to share it with, me; it being too great a booty
for one man. The acquiring it will not cost you much pains; and one night's work may
enrich us all. We are not unacquainted with certain arts, which, though held in delegation
by fools, are yet found of the highest utility to men of judgment. The pirates, immediately
supposing that he hinted at a robbery; the breaking into a sepulcher, or some sacrilegious
act, cried;— there need no more arguments; what you have said is sufficient.

Only point but the affair, and let us not lose time. Theron continued thus: You saw the
gold and silver which belonged to the deceased Kallirhoe but surely we, who are are
living, have a more just title to it. Hence I am resolved to break open the Mausoleum this
night; then, seizing the treasure, we will put it on board a vessel; and afterwards sail to
what ever foreign country the winds may drive us, and there sell the cargo.

This proposal meeting with universal applause, their captain said: Return now to your
rendezvous, and your usual occupations, and at midnight go all on board the vessel; every
one taking the proper tools, with whatever else may be necessary: and they did so.


KALLIRHOE, in the mean time, received a second birth, as it were; for her breath having
not quite left her, she found some symptoms of hunger; and revived by insensible
degrees. She afterwards began to move every limb; when opening her eyes, she perceived
a sensation like to that felt by persons, just waking from a deep deep; when imagining
Chaireas to lay by her, she called him by his name. But as neither her husband, nor her
waiting-women, heard her; and all was solitude and darkness, she, trembling like an
aspen leas, was seized with horror; being quite unable to conjecture where she was.
Having raised herself with difficulty, she felt gently the coronets and fillets, which, by
their tinkling, seemed of gold and silver. There also was a vast heap of aromatics, on and
about the bier, which called to her remembrance the sad blow she had received; and how
she fainted away. Kallirhoe, recovering from her trance, and being grieved to the soul,
now found she was in a sepulcher. She thereupon screamed, as loud as possible: Alas! I
am buried alive.

Help, O help me! But not receiving any benefit from her repeated moans, she quilt
despaired of succor; when reclining her head on her knees, she thus broke forth into
lamentations. Ah! wretched sure am I, to be thus interred alive, when guilty of no crime;
and to die of a dreadfully-lingering death! I am in health, while my sad relations are
bewailing my loss. How will it be possible for me to inform them, that I still live! O
unjust Chaireas! I do not accuse thee, for having attempted to kill me but because thou
didst drive me away so suddenly out of thy house. Thou shouldest not have buried
Kallirhoe so hastily, she not being really dead; but thou art, perhaps, already thinking of
another bride.


NOW while she thus vented her cries in the most doleful accents; Theron, finding it was
midnight, advanced towards the Mausoleum, without making the least noise; the oars, for
that purpose, lightly skimming the waves. His men then going ashore, he stationed them
in manner following. He sent out four, to spy is any persons came near to the sepulcher;
with orders to kill them: but in case this was not practicable, then to make known, by a
signal agreed among themselves, that such persons were approaching. Theron himself
(being the fifth) went towards the tomb. The rest (they being sixteen in all) were
commanded to remain on board the vessel, and to hold their oars in readiness; in order
that they, in case of any sudden accident, might immediately carry off those who were on
shore, and sail away.

Kallirhoe, now hearing them at work with their iron crows; and a mighty stroke bursting
open the sepulcher; her soul was instantly seized with the various passions of fear, joy,
cries, surprise, hope and distrust.— From whence (said she to herself) can this noise
proceed? Perhaps some infernal spirit, pursuant to the law enjoined the dead, is come to
visit wretched me. This is not a mere noise, but the shrill voice of some demon, which
calls me hence; or it is rather a noise made by thieves, who are forcing open the
Mausoleum; for, to add to my misery, I was buried here with riches which can be of no
use to the dead.

While Kallirhoe was ruminating on these things, one of the pirates thrust forward his
head; and, at last, got in his whole body. And now Kallirhoe, falling on her knees, would
have implored his compassion; but the robber, greatly terrified, leaped back again; and,
with trembling accents, said to his companions: Let us fly this place; for some genius
guards the treasures here entombed and will not permit us to enter.——Theron laughing,
called him coward; and said: Thou art as lifeless as the dead woman!

He thereupon commanded another to go in; but as none of them had courage to do this,
he himself rushed in, with his drawn sword, the glitter of which made Kallirhoe afraid
she should be murdered; when sinking to the ground, in a corner, she, with a low voice,
thus conjured him: Whoever thou art, bestow that pity on me, which I have act met with
either from my husband, or from my parents. Do not kill a woman whom thou hast rather

Theron summoned up all his spirits; and being naturally sagacious, and of great presence
of mind, he immediately guessed the whole affair. But he was doubtful, at first, whether it
would not be best for him to kill Kallirhoe; as the preserving of her life might be an
obstacle to every part of his enterprise. However, views of interest soon made him change
his mind, when he spake thus to himself: Let this woman form part of the sepulchral
riches. Great treasures, of gold and silver, are here buried; but the beauty of this female is
more precious than them all. Then taking Kallirhoe by the hand, he led her forth; and
calling to his companion: Behold, (said he) the genius who so greatly alarmed you. A fine
pirate, indeed, to be afraid of a woman! Do you then take her in charge, for I will restore
her to her parents. Let us carry off the several articles here deposited they being no longer
guarded by a dead woman.


AFTER they had loaded the vessel with the spoils, Theron ordered him, who had the care
of Kallirhoe, to retire with her at some little distance. They then held a conference with
regard to her; and were greatly divided in opinion. The first saying:— O my companions!
we came hither with quite different views; and the booty which fortune has thrown in our
way, far exceeds our most sanguine expectations. Let us make a proper use of it: because
it is in our power, spite of what we have done, to come off with impunity. I therefore
think that it will be best for us to leave every article, in the Mausoleum, as we sound it;
and restore Kallirhoe to her husband, and to her father. We then may declare that,
pursuant to the custom of fishermen, we ran our vessel ashore near to the sepulcher; and
that having heard a voice, humanity prompted us to break open the tomb; to preserve the
life of the person who was shut up in it. Let us compel the woman, by an oath, to bear
testimony to all we have done; to which she will readily consent, out of gratitude to us
her benefactors, who snatched her from the jaws of death. What joy shall we then spread
through all Sicily? What a number of rich presents shall we receive? Consider that, in
doing this, we shall act justly with regard to men, and piously with respect to the gods.

He had no sooner ended, but another contradicted him saying: What a troublesome soul
art thou! Is this a time to moralize? Dost thou imagine, that our having broke open a
sepulcher has improved our honesty? And shall we have mercy on a woman whose
husband, so far from being moved to pity, attempted to kill her? You will say, that she has
not done us any injury: True: but this would be doing ourselves an infinitely great one. In
the first place, should we restore the woman to her parents, it is uncertain what
construction they might put upon that action; and it would be impossible for them not to
suspect the true motive of our going to the sepulcher. But suppose her relations should be
so very generous as to forgive us; yet the chief magistrates, and the people, would not
release men who had forced open a Mausoleum; and brought from it, and boldly set
before their eyes, so valuable a treasure. Possibly some will say; that it were more
profitable for us, to sell the woman, as her beauty may fetch a high price: but this also
would be dangerous: for gold is dumb, and silver could not blab the place from whence
we had it. Farther: in the latter case, we might invent many fictions; but how would it be
possible for us to conceal a cargo, furnished with eyes, ears, and a tongue? Moreover, as
Kallirhoe's charms are more than human; did we say that she is a slave, we should
certainly be treated as impostors; for what what person who beheld her, could believe that
she had ever been in such an abject state? Let us then kill her upon the spot; and not carry
our accuser up and down with this.

Many consented to this proposal, but Theron objected to both:— For, thou, said he,
(turning to the first) wouldest plunge us into imminent danger: and thou (turning to the
other) wouldest bereave us of our profit. I will sooner dispose of the woman than kill her;
because she, while selling, will be afraid of discovering her quality: but when sold, let her
accuse us, is she pleases; as we then shall be far removed from her. The life we lead is
exposed to dangers. Away then on board. Let us set sail, for daylight is at hand.


HEREUPON they weighed anchor, and the weather being very fine, the ship soon got got
into the main; where they had neither adverse winds nor waves to contend with, the
vessel not being bound to any particular port; so that every gale was favorable to them
and blew right a-stern. Theron endeavored to console the afflicted Kallirhoe, by
employing every deceitful amusement in his power. At the same time she guessed the evil
he was meditating; and did not doubt but that he intended to sell her. However, she
feigned not to see through his villainy, but to believe all he said; she being afraid that he
would murder her, should she show the least disgust. Thereupon, saying that she was
sick, she covered her head; and weeping, spake thus to herself: O my father! Thou were
victorious on this very sea, and didst destroy a fleet of Athenians consisting of three
hundred ships; and now that a vile galley robs thee of thy daughter, thou dost not succor

I am hurried away to a strange land: and though of noble birth, become a slave; and,
perhaps, some Athenian master may purchase the daughter of Hermocrates. How much
better had it been for me, to have remained dead in the sepulcher! My dearest Chaireas
would surely, one day or other, have laid by my side; but now we are separated, living
and dead.

While Kallirhoe was thus bewailing her sad fate, the pirates parted by many
inconsiderable islands; their cargo being a purchase for the rich, not for poor people. And
now they took shelter under a bank, against which the sea beat, opposite to Attica, and
there cast anchor. In this place was a copious spring, whence a transparent rivulet slowed.
They then conducted Kallirhoe to flowery meadow; and after she was washed, they
requested her to be cheerful, and to recover herself a little from the, fatigues of the ocean,
they being very desirous to preserve her beauty. And now the Russians, consulting
together apart, with regard to the course they should steer, one of them said: We are near
to Athens, a great and opulent city. We shall there meet with a very considerable number
of merchants and wealthy men; Athens being so exceedingly populous, that the
inhabitants of all other cities seem assembled in it.

It was therefore the general opinion that they should sail for Athens. But Theron objected
to this; the Athenians being naturally too curious and inquisitive for his purpose. You only
(said he) have not heard, how simply and impertinently they delight in prying into the
affairs of other men. They are a chattering people, and fond of wrangling. Their ports are
crowded with sharpers and informers. These will not fail to enquire who we are; and how
we came by this cargo; and they will certainly suspect some evil design. We should
immediately be examined by the Areopagus, and by the chief magistrates, more cruel
even than tyrants. The Syracusians are less to be dreaded than the Athenians.

Ionia is the country to answer our purpose; many of its inhabitants being as wealthy as
princes, by the riches they draw from upper Asia. The Ionians are a very luxurious and
indolent people, who hate lawsuits; and I hope to meet with some of my acquaintance
among them. Having then taken in water, and got provisions out of certain trading vessels
lying in the harbor; they sailed directly for Miletus. The third day they came to a bay,
about eighty furlongs from the city; a place formed by nature as a secure shelter for ships.
Here Theron commanded them to lay up their oars; and throw up the most commodious
house they could for Kallirhoe; he being resolved to treat her as voluptuously as possible.
This behavior did not arise from humanity, but from a thirst of gain; he acting as a
merchant, rather than as a pirate.


THERON then hastened to the city, taking with him two of his trusty companions. He
would not seek publicly a purchaser, nor spread abroad his intentions; but endeavored to
sell Kallirhoe privately, and for ready money. However, he found it very difficult to do
this. She was too rich a purchase for, many; and no inconsiderable person was able to buy
her. Her price could be paid only by those possessed of vast wealth, or by kings, but such
Theron was afraid of, and therefore would not approach them. Tired then with delay, he
resolved to be no longer in suspense. The night afforded him no sleep, he spake thus to
himself: What a fool art thou, to have left without a guard, during so many days, and in a
solitary place, such great sums in gold and silver, as though thou wert the only pirate!
Knowest thou not, that there are other pirates like thyself, who scour the ocean; and art
thou sure that thine own people will not abandon thee, and run away with the ship? The
companions thou hast made choice of, so far from being honest, or likely to prove true to
thee, are the most wicked wretches thou art acquainted with. Take therefore thy deep, as
nature now calls for repose: then, when morning approaches, fly to the ship, and throw
this woman, who is now so very incommodious, into the sea; and be no longer
encumbered with a cargo, for which thou canst find so few buyers.

Theron then falling asleep, saw, in a dream, the door of the house shut against him; which
made made him able to stay in this place all that day. Not long after, being wrapped in
thought, he sat himself down in a shop, greatly disturbed in mind. In this situation, he
perceived a long train of people, both free and bondsmen, passing by; in the midst of
whom was a middle aged man, clad in mourning, and with a most sorrowful countenance.

At this sight, Theron rose from his seat: and with the curiosity natural to mankind, asked
one of the attendants, who that person was? The attendant replied: You surely must be a
foreigner, or returned from some far-distant country, not to know Dionysos; the noblest,
the richest, and the wisest of all the Ionians; and whom the great king2 ranks among his
friends. But why in a sable habit?—Because he has lost his wife, whom he tenderly
loved. Theron was the more solicitous in his enquiries, as he had, at last, met with an
opulent person, and a lover of women. And now Theron would not permit this attendant
to leave him; but asked what office he held under Dionysos?
The other replied: I am his chief steward and entrusted with the care of his infant
daughter, whose hapless mother was snatched from her immaturely. Pray, what may be
your name? -- Theron. -- And yours? -- Leonas. -- How lucky am I (cried the former) O
Leonas! in meeting with you. I am a merchant, and just arrived from Italy; and so am
wholly unacquainted with the affairs of Ionia. A lady of Sybaris, the richest in all that
country, having a favorite waiting-woman of exquisite beauty, of whom she afterwards
grew jealous, sold her to me. Do you then be the gainer. You may either keep her as a
nurse to the child (she having been extremely well educated) or oblige your Lord with
her. It will be to your advantage for him to purchase a bondswoman; since this may
prevent his bringing into your family, a mother-in-law to your infant charge.

Leonas listened with great pleasure to this discourse; and said:—Surely some propitious
Deity sent you hither; for you represent to me, in dear daylight, what I saw in a dream.
Come then to my house, and be my friend and my guest. After seeing the woman, I shall
be the better able to judge, whether she will be worthy of my Lord, or only fit for me.

The ancients were very superstitious with regard to dreams; and this, which Theron had, made him resolve
to continue longer in that place.
Meaning the king of Persia; and so in other part of this work.


WHEN they were got home, Theron was struck with wonder, at the splendor of the
furniture, and the spaciousness of the palace; which was prepared for the reception of the
great king. The first thing Leonas did, was to desire Theron to wait for him, till he should
have transacted some business with his Lord. He afterwards conducted him to his own
apartments, which seemed every way sit for a gentleman. He then gave orders for the
table to be spread; when Theron, being an artful man who could suit himself to all times
and circumstances, eat and drank very freely with Leonas, to prevent his being suspected;
and still more, to show how proud he should be of his friendship.

While they were thus at dinner, they had a long conference concerning the woman.
Theron made greater encomiums on the beauties of her mind, than on those of her person;
well knowing, that what is not seen requires praise; but that what we do see, recommends
itself,——Come, (said Leonas) let us go; let me see her. She is not here, (replied the
other) we having avoided the city for fear of the farmers of the customs; and our ship lies
at anchor, eighty furlongs from hence. — Theron then described the place. Your vessel
(said Leonas) is moored upon our estate.—So much the better (replied the former)
fortune having conducted us to Dionysos. Let us therefore go into the country (added
Leonas) in order that you may recover yourself, from the fatigues of the sea; for
Dionysos's noble villa is near to where your ship lies.
Theron was greatly rejoiced at this; he imagining, that he should more easily dispose of
his prize in a solitude, than in a public market. We will go (said he) early tomorrow
morning; you to the country seat, and I to the ship; whence I will bring the woman to you.
Matters being thus adjusted, they shook hands and parted. The succeeding night appeared
vastly long to both; the one being eager to buy, the other to sell.

Next day Leonas, palling along the sea-coast in a small vessel, arrived at the villa; he
having brought with him the money, in order to be ready for the merchant. During this
interval, Theron came unawares upon his companions, who were on the strand, and very
impatient to see him when telling them his success, he embraced Kallirhoe, and spake
thus: I intended (my child!) to have restored you immediately to your parents; but
contrary winds prevent my doing this. You know the infinite care I have taken of you; and
above all, that I have not made the least attempt on your chastity. Chaireas will receive
you from the sepulcher (you having been preserved by our means) as unviolated as on the
bridal night. We are now obliged to sail to Lycia. —But why afflict yourself to no
purpose; you who are so sick at sea? I shall leave you here with some faithful friends;
and, at my return, will take you on board; and conduct you to Syracuse, with the utmost
regard and attention. Take then whatever you think sit, of your clothes and other things
and we will keep the rest for you.

Kallirhoe now smiled within herself, though her heart was oppressed with sorrow. She
looked upon Theron as very silly, in imagining that she could believe him; well knowing
that she was sold. Nevertheless she was so extremely desirous of being freed from the
pirates, that she thought she would be more happy, though a slave, than when free, and
enjoying the splendor of her birth.— O! my father, (said she) I return you a multitude of
thanks, for your great humanity to me; and may the gods reward you all accordingly! but
to accept of any thing which was interred with me, I would look upon as an evil omen.
Do you therefore preserve them carefully for me. All I would take, is a little ring, which
was buried with me. She then drew the veil over her face, saying: Theron! carry me
whithersoever you please; for any place would be preferable to the sepulcher, or to the


AS soon as Theron was got near to the villa, he made use of the following artifice.
Unveiling Kallirhoe, and untying her hair, so that it flowed negligently over her
shoulders; he then opened the door, and ordered her to enter first. Leonas, and those in
the room with him, seeing so exquisite a beauty appear on a sudden, were all amazement.
Some thought that a goddess stood before them, as Venus was strongly reported to to
reveal herself, sometimes, in those shades. All present were seized with surprise; when
Theron following close behind, accosted Leonas with these words, -- Rise, and prepare to
receive the woman; for this is she whom thou art desirous to purchase.

At this declaration the beholders were struck with joy and wonder. Kallirhoe being then
put to bed, in a most splendid room, they left her; cries, fatigue, and fear, calling for
repose. Theron then taking Leonas by the hand, said: — I have acquitted myself faithfully
of all I promised. So you now take, possession of the woman. You surely are my friend.
Come to the city; get a writing drawn; and then give me what price you may think proper.
But Leonas being resolved to vie with him in courtesy, said: — I will trust you with the
money, before the instruments executed; and thereupon pressed him to accept of the sum,
lest he should afterwards go from the agreement; Leonas knowing that many in the city,
would gladly purchase Kallirhoe. Leonas now offering him a talent of silver, conjured
him to take it; which the pirate, with a multitude of words, pretended to refuse; but
afterwards accepted, though seemingly with infinite reluctance. Leonas entreated his
guest to sup with him, as it was late; but Theron said: -- I will sail for the city this very
night: and tomorrow we will complete the contract, in the port.

The appointment being thus made, they separated. Theron being got on board his vessel,
ordered his people to weigh anchor; and set sail with all possible expedition, to prevent
their being discovered. Now while the pirates were flying whithersoever the winds might
carry them; Kallirhoe being left alone, and at full liberty to bewail her sad misfortunes,
cried thus:—Behold me now shut up, by Theron, in a sepulcher, still more lonely than the
other for to that my father and mother would have come; and Chaireas had bedewed it
with his tears; of which, I, though dead, should have been sensible. But who can I here

Thou knowest (O envious Fortune!) that thou art not yet satisfied with persecuting the
wretched Kallirhoe, both by sea and land. First, thou didst induce my lover to kill me.
That very Chaireas who never beat a slave, gave me, who loved him to distraction, a
deadly blow1. Thou didst afterwards deliver me up to robbers of tombs; and, from the
Mausoleum, didst drag me to the ocean, where I was under the yoke of pirates, more
tremendous than even the billows. Was I then so greatly celebrated for beauty, only that
Theron, the pirate, might receive an extraordinary price for it? I was sold in a solitary
place; and not taken, like other things of that kind, to the city. Thou didst fear (O Fortune)
that had any one seen me, I should have been supposed a person of noble birth and liberal
education. For this I have been sold, like a mute; like a blind and insensible piece of
furniture, to I know not whom: whether to Greeks, to Barbarians, or again to pirates, I
cannot say.
Then beating her breast, she saw, in her ring, the picture of her dear husband; when
kissing it, she cried: -- O my Chaireas! Thou art utterly lost, since so dire a catastrophe
has severed us. Thou now dost weep; dost repent and sittest in the empty monument;
doing justice, after my death, to my virtue: while I, the daughter of Hermocrates and thy
wife, have this day been sold. Amid these moanings, she, with great difficulty fell asleep.

We may suppose that distraction made Kallirhoe express herself in this manner, as also when she
afterwards says, that Chaireas had been killed.


LEONAS having ordered Phocas, the deputy steward, to take all possible care of the
woman; he, though it was night, set out for Miletus, with the utmost speed; being
impatient to inform his Lord the good news, with regard to the slave be he had purchased;
and imagining that this might alleviate his cries. Leonas found Dionysos in bed; he being
oppressed with such a variety of woe, that he could seldom be prevailed upon to go
abroad, though his country stood in great need of his assistance. On the contrary, he
confined himself to the nuptial chamber, as is his wife had been there.

The moment he saw Leonas, he cried: This has been the only pleasant night I have
enjoyed, since the death of my dear, hapless wife; for I saw her very visibly, in a dream,
more beautiful, more charming than ever; and she cohabited with me, as when awake. Me
thought it was our nuptial day; that I was conducting my bride home, through my
grounds, along the beach; and that you was singing our Epithalamium.

Dionysos had no sooner done speaking, than Leonas cried:— O my Lord! Thou art
fortunate both sleeping and waking. I will now interpret what thou hast seen: upon which
he began thus.— I happened to meet with a merchant who had a female, of wonderful
beauty, to dispose off but he being afraid of the farmers of the customs, his people ran
their vessel a more at some distance from the city, near to your estate. Then the merchant
and I went, according to appointment, to the villa; where settling the conditions of sale, I
gave him a talent of silver; and am now come to execute the contract, pursuant to the

Dionysos listened, with great pleasure, to the enchanting picture which Leonas drew of
this woman. He being a lover of the fair sex, except of such as were in bonds; for having
the spirit of a king, and being the first man both in rank and knowledge, of all Ionia, he
scorned to bed with a slave.

It is impossible, O Leonas! (said he) that any one one should be exquisitely handsome
who was not born free.1 Hast thou not learnt, from the poets, that the offspring of the gods
are beautiful; and, still more so, the children of persons of rank. This woman pleased you
in a solitary place, while you compared her to the peasants round you. However, as you
have purchased her, go to the market and there Adrastus, who is perfectly well skilled in
the laws, will draw up a proper instrument, and see it executed.
Leonas was overjoyed that Dionysos did not believe the account he gave of Kallirhoe; he
imagining, that the sight of such unexpected beauty would strike him the more forcibly.
He then went to all the ports of Miletus; to every banker's; and over the whole city; yet
not Theron could be found. He next enquired very diligently (to as little purpose
however) of the merchants, and ship-masters; but none of them knew any such person. In
this perplexity he took a galley, and rowing along the sea-coast, landed and went to the
villa; still unable to find the man he wanted, who, by this time, was roving over the
ocean. Hereupon Leonas returned slowly and dejected to his Lord, who perceiving the
melancholy which overspread his countenance, asked what had befallen him?

The former replied: O my Lord! I have lost you a talent. This misfortune (said Dionysos)
will make you more cautious for the future. But tell me what has happened; has not our
new-bought have made her escape? No, my Lord (answered Leonas) but he who sold her
is fled. This fellow (added Dionysos) must therefore be a man stealer, who having run
away with somebody's slave, thought it prudent to sell her to you, in an unfrequented
place where were no witnesses.— Of what country did he say she is? Of Sybaris in Italy
(answered Leonas) to which he added, that he had purchased her of her jealous mistress.
Dionysos then ordered his steward to enquire, is there were any Sybarites in the city;
bidding him leave, in the mean time, the woman at the villa. Leonas quitted the room
with an air of sorrow; imagining that he had not succeeded in this business. He
nevertheless watched carefully for an, opportunity, to persuade his Lord to go to his
country-seat; the only hopes now left him, being in Dionysos's having a sight of

What false reasoning is this, as well as what follows?


IN the mean time the country-women flocked to Kallirhoe, to whom they paid their duty;
and seemed as fond of her as is she had been their mistress. Plangon, wife to the under
steward, being a sensible woman, and who knew the world, thus addressed her:— My
child! You doubtless are in search of your parents and relations; but be assured, that you
will find such here; for Dionysos, our Lord, is a good man, and of a most benevolent
disposition. God has most propitiously conduced you to an excellent family; where you
may live as happily as in your native country. Wash therefore away the uncleanness
contracted by your having been so long at sea. The maids attend here for that purpose.

Kallirhoe would scarce consent to this; so that it was with much difficulty they got her to
the bath. The women entering, anointed, washed, and wiped her with the utmost care.
When they saw her naked, they were infinitely more surprised. Her face charmed them
while she had her clothes; but now these were thrown aside, she appeared to them as a
goddess. Rays of silver, like the refulgent lightning, seemed to dart from Kallirhoe's
snowy skin. Her flesh was so vastly delicate, that they were afraid the most gentle touch
of their singers would hurt her, by making a deep impression; upon which they thus
whispered one another: -- Our late mistress was justly celebrated for her beauty; but she
might have passed for this woman's slave —These encomiums were very disgusting to
Kallirhoe, who easily guessed what was to follow. Thus lovely in their eyes, they bound
up her disheveled locks, and brought her splendid vestments; but she urged, that such
finery did no ways suit a newly-purchased slave.— Give me (said she) rustic, servile
weeds, for you are my superiors.

Kallirhoe then put on mean attire; but even this became her; it appearing, now irradiated
by her beauty, as a rich habit. So soon as the women had dined, Plangon said to her: Now
hasten to Venus, and address her in prayer. The goddess reveals herself in this country;
and not only those in the neighborhood, but also multitudes from the city, come and offer
up sacrifices to her. The goddess has always been remarkably propitious to our master;
who never passes by her shrine, without bowing to it. All the peasants present boasted the
appearance of the goddess; when a woman, of more simplicity than the rest, cried: —
Think that thou, in beholding Venus, wilt see thine own image. Kallirhoe, at these words,
burst into tears, and thus whispered herself: Alas! wretched creature that I am! In this
place likewise is Venus the cause of all expostulate with her.

The temple stood near the villa, in the high-road. Kallirhoe prostrating herself at the feet
of the goddess, and embracing them, cried: Thou didst first present Chaireas to my eyes;
but, after having joined a lovely pair, didst separate them; although we ever paid thee,
with all possible veneration, due homage. But since thou hast thus ordained, I have one
only boon to request, which is that, after Chaireas, I may please no other man.— At these
words Venus made a sign in the negative, she being the mother of Cupid; not to, mention
that she had already meditated new Hymeneal bands, which also were to be dissolved.
Kallirhoe being freed from the dread of pirates, and the dangers of the ocean, recovered
her former beauty; so that the peasants were much surprised at her daily-increasing


AND now Leonas, finding a proper opportunity, spake thus to Dionysos:

My Lord, it is a long time since you visited your estate on the sea-coast, and your affairs
require your presence. It is necessary that you view and enquire into your herds and
plantations; and you will please to recollect, that the season for reaping the corn, and
gathering the fruits, is at hand. Occupy at last, (my Lord) the houses which we, by your
command, have built and furnished magnificently. Amused by these various
employments, and delighted with the rural beauties around, you then will be the better
able to support your late grievous loss. Whenever you shall think sit to praise some
herdsman or shepherd, you then may give him the new slave in marriage.

Dionysos was pleased with this proposal; and gave orders for setting out on a certain day.
Hereupon his coachmen got ready the equipages, his grooms the horses, and his mariners
the barges. His friends were invited to accompany him in the journey, as also his whole
tribe of freedmen; Dionysos being naturally fond of splendor. When every thing was
ready, he ordered his attendants, with the baggage, to go by sea; and his coaches to follow
him, after himself should be set out; as a vast retinue would no ways become one in
mourning. Next morning at daybreak Dionysos, unperceived by most of his servants or
the country people, mounted his horse, accompanied by four friends, one of whom was
Leonas; and then proceeded on the journey towards his villa.

And now Kallirhoe having seen Venus the same night, resolved to go and worship her. At
the time she was standing, and offering up her prayers in the temple, Dionysos, alighting
from his horse, went in first. Kallirhoe, hearing the sound of feet, turned towards
Dionysos, when he perceiving her, cried aloud:— O Venus! be propitious to me; and do
now appear to me for my good. Then going to fall prostrate before her, Leonas withheld
him, saying: Be not troubled: This (my Lord) is the newly-purchased slave. Do thou, (O
woman!) approach thy master.—At the word Master, Kallirhoe, bowing down her head,
and being unable to forget her former freedom, she burst into a flood of tears. But
Dionysos, sinking his steward, said:— Impious wretch that thou art I to speak to
divinities as thou wouldest to mortals. Thou sayest that this woman was purchased by
thee, for money; and that thou canst not find the person, who sold her to thee. Hast thou
not read Homer1, who informs us, that

Oft deities will from the skies descend;

And, in the guise of pilgrims, visit mortals;
To pry into their deeds, or good or evil.

Cease therefore these opprobrious expressions, and make use of others more suitable to
goddesses, or I will drive thee hence.—Kallirhoe then spake as follows:—Ah! do not
mock my woe, by imagining me to be a goddess; since I am not even a fortunate woman.

While she uttered these words, her voice seemed divine to the ear of Dionysos; for it was
remarkably melodious, and sweet as the accents of the lyre. Being now confused, and
ashamed to converse any longer with the woman, Dionysos, already inflamed by love,
went to the villa. His great crowd of attendants and equipages arrived there, from the city,
not long after; and the adventure of Kallirhoe was soon spread round. Immediately all
hasted to see the woman, though upon pretence of worshipping Venus. Kallirhoe was in
such confusion, on observing so vast a concourse of people, that she knew not how to
behave; all being quite strangers to her; and she not seeing her confidante Plangon, who
was then employed in receiving her Lord. The appointed hour being past; and none of
Dionysos's people returning to the Villa (all of them sitting or standing in the temple).
Leonas reflected what this must be owing to; upon which he went to it, and conducted
Kallirhoe out of that place of worship. It was then seen, that kings are born kings, as in a
bee-hive; for all followed Kallirhoe, whole beauty had proclaimed and elected her their
mistress. She then returned to her former residence.

* In the Odyssey.


DIONYSOS had received a wound, which he endeavored carefully to conceal. Having

had an excellent education, and adhering strictly to the dictates of the purest virtue; he
was loath to appear contemptible in the eyes of his domestics, or puerile and lascivious in
those of his friends. He therefore struggled all that night; hoping, by this means, to
conceal his passion, which yet his silence (though unperceived by himself) betrayed.

Taking then part of the supper: Let this (cried he) be carried to our stranger. However, do
not say that it comes from her master, but from Dionysos. He continued carousing longer
than usual, knowing that it would be impossible for him to sleep; and therefore wished to
spend the night with his friends. Nevertheless, when it was far advanced, he broke up
from the company, and went to bed; but found sleep a stranger to his eyes. Fancy then
carried him into the temple of Venus; and recalled to his memory every circumstance
relative to Kallirhoe; her face, her flowing tresses, her air, her voice, her glance, her
dress, her discourse; but what inflamed him, was her tears. Then might be seen the
conflict betwixt love and reason; for though Dionysos was deeply smitten, he yet had too
much wisdom and strength of mind not to oppose his passion; and thereupon, like one
who lifts his head above the waves, he cried:— O Dionysos! thou who art the first man
for virtue and for glory, in Ionia, whom kings, governors, and cities admire; dost thou not
blush to act like a child? Shall a transient view cause thee to love that female so violently;
and ere thou hast expiated the shade of thy hapless consort? Dost thou, still clad in
mourning, retire into the country to celebrate the sacred nuptial rites with a slave; and
perhaps with another man's wife, as thou hadst not any instrument or contract with her?

The amorous god took a delight in perplexing Dionysos, while he argued so wisely with
himself; Cupid considering this moderation as an insult to his power; and as Dionysos
moralized thus philosophically in love, he therefore inflamed him still more. Our Ionian
being no longer able to bear this self-converse, sent for Leonas; who coming in, and
guessing the cause of this message, though he feigned not to know it; spake thus in a
seeming confusion: Whence is it (my Lord!) that slumbers fly your eyelids? Are your
sorrows, for the loss of your departed lady, renewed?

I grieve (said Dionysos) for a woman, but not for the deceased. Thy affection and fidelity
will not permit me to conceal a single secret from thee. Thou hast undone me (O Leonas!)
and art the cause of all my present anguish. Thou hast set my house on fire; or rather my
heart. It disturbs me also, that I am not able to discover who this slave is? Thou tellest me
an idle tale of a winged merchant, who came from, thou canst not say where; and is sled
thou knowest not whither? And where is the man who possessed of such a miracle in
beauty, would have sold her to me, in an unfrequented place, for a talent; when she is
worth the treasures of the great king? Some of the gods must certainly have imposed
upon thee. Do thou then recollect every circumstance relating to this offer. Whom didst
thou see? With what people didst thou discourse? Tell me the whole truth. Thou hadst not
a sight of the ship?

I had not, my Lord (replied Leonas) but I heard it mentioned.

The very thing (said Dionysos) I suspected and foretold: One of the nymphs, or nereids,
is risen from the sea. The genii are, at certain seasons, compelled by the fates, to converse
with mortals, and to dwell upon earth. This we are told by poets and prose writers.

Dionysos would willingly have persuaded his steward to extol Kallirhoe's charms, and
her conversation, which seemed greatly to surpass that of mortals. Leonas being desirous
of pleasing his master, said:— Let us not perplex ourselves too much, in enquiring who
this woman is, I will now conduct her to you, unless this should be thought improper. Be
not thus dejected; nor despair of success in your passion, since every thing is in your own

I will not have her brought (resumed Dionysos) till I first know who she is, and whence
she came. We will enquire the truth tomorrow, from her own lips. I will send for her, but
not to this house, that she may not suspect any violence. We will hold our conference
under the eye and auspices of Venus, in whose temple I first saw her.

THIS being resolved, the next day Dionysos went to the temple; taking with him his
friends, his freedmen, and the most faithful among his domestics; in order that they might
be as witnesses. He did not go carelessly attired, but set off with such ornaments as were
most advantageous to his person; and as one going to converse with the mistress of his
affections. Dionysos was naturally handsome; tall; and remarkably venerable in his

Leonas, accompanied by Plangon, and by those waiting-women who were most familiar
with Kallirhoe, went to her apartment, and thus address her: Dionysos is a man of the
strictest justice, and an exact observer of the laws. He is now gone to the temple, where
thou (O woman!) must declare, at last, who thou art; and then thou wilt not sail of
meeting with every assistance that justice may require. Thou needed but speak to him
frankly, and without concealing single circumstance of the truth; and by this means thou
wilt excite, still more, his goodwill towards thee Kallirhoe consented to go, though with
the utmost reluctance.

However, she assumed more confidence when she reflected that the temple was to be the
scene of their conference. Being entered it, all the spectators were still more enchanted
with her beauty; and Dionysos, lost in wonder, was struck dumb. After a long silence, he,
at last, but with the greatest difficulty, broke into the following words.:—'Thou hast been
informed (O woman!) of the whole state of my affairs. I am Dionysos, the first man in
Miletus, and of almost all Ionia; and renowned for my piety towards the gods, and my
humanity towards men. It is just that thou, on the other hand, do give me a faithful
account of thy self; for those who disposed of thee, said, that thou art of Sybaris; and was
sold by a mistress who was jealous of thee.

Here a blush overspread Kallirhoe's cheek; when turning her eyes to the ground, she
spake thus: I never was sold till now; nor have I once seen Sybaris. I told thee, (said
Dionysos, looking at his steward) that she was not a slave; and I even imagine her to be
of noble birth. Inform me (O woman!) of every thing relative to thy self; but first tell me
thy name. Kallirhoe (answered she)—Her very name was pleasing to Dionysos; and this
was all she then revealed. But he, being still very urgent, and employing the warmest
prayers and entreaties.

The only favor (cried she, my Lord) I humbly request is, that I may be permitted to
conceal my story. The pad appears all like a dream or as a fable: and I now am what cruel
fortune destined me to be, a slave and an exile. -- Saying this, she endeavored to wave
making any farther answer; when the tears trickling silently down her cheeks; Dionysos,
and all the rest of the spectators, could not forbear sympathizing with her; while some
imagined that they beheld the sorrowing Venus.
Dionysos, whose curiosity was the more enflamed, adding further entreaties, continued
thus: O Kallirhoe! the first boon I have to request of thee is, that thou wouldest inform me
of thy past misfortunes. Thou wilt not disclose them to a stranger; for there is a similitude
in our minds. Be not afraid; even though thou shouldest have committed some wicked
crime? These words excited Kallirhoe's indignation:

Alas! (said she) speak not thus injuriously to me. My conscience does not upbraid me
with guilt of any kind: But as my birth and fortune were infinitely more illustrious than
my present present condition; I would not be thought a vain boaster, nor relate
particulars, which must appear incredible to all who might be unacquainted with them.
The recollection. of my former happy state would be of no advantage to me now.

Dionysos, admiring the woman's noble spirit, said: I understand thee, though thou
speakest not, so emphatical is thy silence. Yet tell me all; though all thou couldest say, of
thyself, would fall far short of what we now behold; and every circumstance, how shining
forever, which thou mightest relate, would be faint in comparison of thyself.

At last Kallirhoe thus began, but with great reluctance, her story.— I am daughter to
Hermocrates, Praetor of Syracuse. A sudden fall, on the ground, having left me
speechless; my parents buried me at a vast expense, and with great funeral pomp. Certain
pirates, being afterwards allured by the treasures deposited in the sepulcher, broke into it;
and there found me; who, by that time, had recovered my breath. They then brought me
hither; and Theron delivered me to Leonas, in this solitude.

She then told him every thing (except what related to Chaireas) and went on thus: I
beseech thee (O Dionysos) as thou art a Greek; as thou art the inhabitant of a city where
humanity flourishes; and art enlightened by a liberal education, not to imitate those
sepulchral robbers, by depriving me of my country and of my relations. Rich as thou art,
in slaves, the dismissing of one would be a trifle to thee. Thou wilt not be a loser by
restoring me to my father: for Hermocrates is no ways ungrateful. All men praise and
love Alcinous, because he sent back the suppliant Ulysses to his native country. I also
implore thee, to save a lost woman, who made a captive, and in the hands of enemies. Is I
may not live in a manner suitable to my birth, let me die free.

Dionysos, at hearing these words, seemed to weep for Kallirhoe's misfortunes; but in
reality he bewailed his own; as he now perceived, that he should not obtain what he so
ardently wished.—Do not despond (said he) O Kallirhoe, but arm thy self with courage,
for every desire of thine shall be gratified; and may Venus, in whose presence we now
stand, bear witness to this declaration! In the mean time, thou shalt be treated here like a
mistress, rather than as a slave.—— Kallirhoe left the temple, with a firm persuasion, that
she should not be made to suffer any thing repugnant to her inclinations.

DIONYSOS returned home in great affliction; when calling Leonas to him in private, he
spake thus: I am unfortunate in all things! The God of Love is my inveterate foe. I have
buried my wise; and the woman lately purchased despises me; though I had hoped, that
she was a gift bestowed upon me by Venus; and thence figured to myself a life far happier
than that led by Menelaus, husband to the Spartan Dame; for surely Helen was not so
beautiful as Kallirhoe. The goddess of persuasion sits upon her lips. My life is at an end.
The day that Kallirhoe departs from hence, will be my last.

Here Leonas cried aloud: No (my good Lord) do not commit violence on thy self. I am
her master; so that thou mayest use thy pleasure with Kallirhoe, be this agreeable to her
or not; I having paid a talent for her.

How, wretch! (cried Dionysos) hast thou purchased a woman of noble birth, and
possessed of the finest accomplishments? Hast thou not heard of Hermocrates, Praetor of
the greatest part of Sicily; esteemed and beloved by the king of Persia; that monarch
ranking him among those who deserve well of the empire; and sending him presents
annually; for his having discomfited, in a naval engagement, the Athenians, enemies to
the Persians? And shall I, (tyrant-like) cruelly injure a free-born maid? Shall Dionysos,
famed for his continence, be so insolently wicked as to violate a woman, whom even
Theron the pirate did not presume to touch? It was thus Dionysos spake to Leonas; and
yet he did not despair of winning Kallirhoe's affection by entreaties; love naturally
inspiring hope; and Dionysos not doubting, but that he should obtain his wishes by
kindness and infiduity.

Then sending for Plangon: Thou hast hitherto (said he) given me proofs sufficient of thy
care. I now recommend, I now deliver up to thee, in charge, the most precious, the most
dear part of my riches; the lovely stranger. I command that she want for nothing; but, on
the contrary, that she be entertained even to luxury. Look upon her as thy mistress; wait
on her; reverence her; deck her splendidly; and do all thou canst to win me her affection.
Praise me frequently before Kallirhoe; and represent me, to her, such as thou knowest
Dionysos to be; but beware of calling me her master.

Plangon immediately understood this command; she being an artful, shrewd woman,
who, without saying much, comprehended an affair in an instant; and thereupon made it
her whole study to perfect it. Going then to Kallirhoe, she did not declare that any
directions had been given her on this occasion: but behaved with the utmost complacency
and kindness; in order that Kallirhoe might repose all possible confidence to her,
whenever she should be desirous of insinuating herself into her good graces, and of
offering advice.


IN the mean time the following incident happened. Dionysos did not leave his villa; he
now feigning one excuse, then another; but the true and only reason was, he could not
tear himself from Kallirhoe; nor yet would he take her with him to the city. He was
sensible that she, is once seen there, would soon be celebrated; that her wonderful beauty
must enslave all Ionia; and that the fame of it could not but reach the ear of the great

Now it happened that Dionysos, having examined very accurately into the general state of
his rural affairs; found cause to censure Phocas, his under-steward, on account of a
certain article. The reproof, however, went no farther than words: but Plangon, seizing
this opportunity flew all trembling to Kallirhoe; when tearing her hair, and clasping her
knees;—Good Lady (said she) save us, I beseech you! Dionysos is highly exasperated at
my husband. My Lord is naturally very passionate; and. yet is distinguished for his
humanity. Thou only canst rescue us from this impending danger. Dionysos, is thou but
ask him, will willingly grant thee this thy first request.

Kallirhoe was afraid of waiting upon Dionysos; and yet she would not venture to refuse
Plangon's urgent entreaties and earnest prayer; as she was bound to her by so many signal
obligations. That she therefore might not appear ungrateful, she said thus: I also am a
servant, and have not the confidence to speak; but is thou imagine, that I may have any
influence, I am ready to add my supplications to thine; and may the gods give a happy
issue to our endeavors!

Being come to Dionysos's apartment, Plangon bid the doorkeeper inform his Lord, that
Kallirhoe attended.—Dionysos was then lying down; pale, sunk in cries, and half dead.
Hearing that Kallirhoe was at the door, he was struck dumb; and a cloud seemed to
overspread his mind at this unexpected event, so that he could scarce draw his breath; but
recovering it at last, he cried: Let her come in!— Kallirhoe advancing near him with
downcast eyes; her cheeks were instantly covered with blushes, when she, with confused
accents, afterwards spake in manner following:

I owe this favor to Plangon; for she loves me as though I were her child. I therefore
beseech thee (my Lord) not to be angry with her husband; but to pardon him, at my
humble intercession. She would have said more, but her voice forsook her. Dionysos,
who immediately saw through Plangon's stratagem, said: I am extremely offended; and
no person living should have saved Phocas and Plangon, from the most rigorous
punishment, after the crimes they have dared to commit. I yet will pardon them willingly
at thy request.

Then turning to Plangon: Do thou (said he) remember, that ye were forgiven at
Kallirhoe's desire. Plangon falling at her Lord's feet:—Rather prostrate yourself (said he)
before Kallirhoe, for it was she who saved you. Plangon observing joy to sparkle in
Kallirhoe's eyes; and the vast pleasure she felt, now she had obtained her suit. Do thou
(said she) return our most dutiful, and most grateful thanks to Dionysos; -- at which
words, she pushed her forward. Kallirhoe happening to slip, fell on Dionysos's arm; who,
at the same time that he seemed to scorn to lend her his hand to rise, drew her towards
himself; when he gave her a kiss; but immediately let her go; in order that the artifice,
employed by him, might not create suspicion.


THE women then went away; but the kiss, which Dionysos had seized, glided like poison
through his veins, so that he could neither see nor hear. The god of love assailed and
triumphed over him on every side; and he was unable to find a cure to his passion.
Dionysos, when be reflected on the greatness of Kallirhoe's soul, was persuaded that gifts
could never win her: and, on the other hand, that threats must be equally ineffectual; he
knowing, that she would die rather than submit to violence.

Imagining now that his hopes lay in Plangon only, he sent for her, and spake thus: Thou
didst hit upon the first delightful stratagem; and I thank thee for the kiss, which has either
formed my felicity, or will destroy me. Do thou then, who art a woman, try how far thou
(assisted by me in the contest) canst overreach, and defeat, one of thine own sex. Know
that liberty will be thy recompense; and, what I am certain is still dearer to this than
liberty, the life of Dionysos. Plangon having received these commands, had recourse to
every experiment and every artifice; but all in vain; Kallirhoe being invincible, and true
to Chaireas only. Yet was she conquered by the insidious wiles of fortune, which hassle
all the exertions of human reason: for fortune is a very contentious goddess, from whom
every thing, how unaccountable soever, may be expected. It is therefore not to be
wondered at, that she then brought to maturity an affair, that was wholly unthought of,
and seemingly impossible. The manner in which this was compassed is highly worthy of
our notice. Fortune spread a snare to Kallirhoe's chastity. Chaireas and she, on the night
of their nuptials, had given each other such ardent proof of their reciprocal love, that it
was not without fruit. She conceived, a little before the ‘fatal’ blow was given her by
Chaireas; but was prevented from observing it, by the many dangers to which she had
been exposed, and the sad misfortunes subsequent to them.
In the beginning of the third month, Kallirhoe gave symptoms that she was pregnant; a
circumstance which Plangon (who was well skilled in these matters) discovered in the
bath. However, she took no notice of it then, as many female attendants were present; but,
towards the evening, Plangon being at leisure, and finding a convenient opportunity, she
seated herself by the bedside, and spake thus: Knowest thou (my child) that thou art

Kallirhoe, at these words, groaned and wept; then tearing her hair, she cried as follows;
Thou (O fortune!) to my other sad sufferings, dost add that of my bringing a slave into
the world. And now, (continued she, smiting her breast) Thou art wretched, even before
thou comest into the world. Thou wast given to the sepulcher, and delivered into the
hands of pirates. In how miserable a state wilt thou be born? To what hopes do I bear
thee? Fatherless, an exile, and a slave. Die, die before thy birth! Plangon, restraining
Kallirhoe's cruel hands, promised to provide her, the next day, with the means of
procuring, more easily, an abortion.


THESE two women, separating afterwards, made their several reflections. Plangon
imagining, as she knew Kallirhoe was pregnant, that then was a set time for giving
success to her master's passion: I now (said Plangon, in her own mind) have hit upon an
argument which surely must weigh with Kallirhoe: viz. -- that maternal piety ought to
triumph over conjugal continence.— Plangon applauded herself for this lucky thought
(for such she considered it1) but Kallirhoe resolved within herself, at first, to destroy her
fruit; she reasoning thus:—— Shall I bring forth, to one whose slave I am, the grandson
of Hermocrates? Shall I give birth to an infant whose father no person can point out?
Perhaps some calumniator may tauntingly say, that Kallirhoe conceived while among
pirates. Suffice it that I only be wretched. Wherefore (O my child!) should I bring thee
into a life of misery; from which thou, when born, oughtest to fly? Depart then in
freedom; unacquainted with sorrows: and hear not the sad relation of thy mother's woes.

She then again relented, and compassion pleaded in favor of the burden within her. Thou
dost meditate (said she) to destroy thine infant (O most impious of thy sex!) and to act
like Medea. Nay, Thou seemest even more inhuman than that Scythian woman; for her
husband was her enemy; whereas thou art preparing to slay the son of Chaireas; and not
to leave the least traces of his so greatly celebrated nuptials. But suppose thou shouldest
be delivered of a male? Suppose he should resemble his father; and be more fortunate
than thee?
Shalt thou, who art his mother, kill him who had escaped from the sepulcher and from
pirates? Do we not know, that many sons of gods, and of kings, though born in slavery,
yet rescued themselves from it, and afterwards rose to all the splendor of their
progenitors, as Amphion, Zethus, and Cyrus? Thou (my son!) wilt sail to Sicily; wilt seek
thy father, and grand-sire; and relate to them thy mother's sufferings. Thou wilt send out a
sleet from thence, to my aid, and restore thy parents to each other.

Revolving these things the whole night, she at last fell asleep, when the image of
Chaireas stood before her:

Alike in statue, and alike in face;

His sparkling eyes; his rosy cheeks; his mien:
His well-known garments:
-- All proclaim'd him Chaireas.

Wife! (cried he) I commit my son (sweet pledge!) in trust to thee:— When he, going to
say more, Kallirhoe darted from her slumbers, and flew to embrace him. She now was
firmly resolved to preserve and bring up her infant; as imagining that such was her
husband's counsel.

The meaning of this is, that Plangon supposed she would prevail with Kallirhoe to preserve her fruit, from
this reflexion; viz -- that the saving of it would be a more meritorious action, (in proportion); than the
violating her conjugal fidelity (by her complying with Dionysos's passion) would be a criminal one.


THE next day Plangon coming to Kallirhoe, the latter acquainted her with her resolution,
which Plangon did not think seasonable, so would not approve of it. — Woman (said she)
it will be impossible for thee to bring up thy son in this house. My Lord has a sincere love
for thee; and is too humane, too modest, to employ forcible methods, in order to bring
thee to his will; tut, on the other hand, he is too jealous to let thee nurse thy child here. He
would look upon this as injurious to himself; as though thou thoughtest very
affectionately and honorably of him when absent, but contemptibly when present. I
therefore think that thou hadst better destroy the infant before its birth, than when born;
since thou, by this means, wilt escape the inconveniencies attending on pregnancy, and
the pains of childbirth. It is my affection for thee, that prompts me to give this salutary

Kallirhoe was not pleased at what she now heard; when throwing herself at Plangon's
feet; I conjure thee (said Kallirhoe) to join with me, in contriving some method by which
I may be enabled to preserve and bring up the child. But Plangon, after many denials,
said she would give her an answer in two or three days.

Kallirhoe growing still more earnest in her entreaties, which increased Plangon's
confidence and authority; the latter began by making Kallirhoe swear, not to mention one
single word, to any person, of an artifice the meditated. Then knitting her brows, and
wringing her hands, like to persons in the deepest affliction; my dear woman (cried she)
great things cannot be achieved without attempting greatly; and, from the love I bear
thee, will impose upon thy Lord. Know then, that one these two things must come to
pass; either the child must be destroyed; or be born; heir to the richest man, and of the
most illustrious family, in all Ionia; and thus make thee a perfectly happy mother. I now
leave thee to thy choice.

What woman (replied Kallirhoe) could be so mad, as to prefer the murdering of her
infant, to felicity? What then now tellest me seems incredible and impossible; and
therefore explain thyself more clearly.

How long (said Plangon) hast thou been pregnant?

Kallirhoe replied:-- About two months.

That time (said the former) will be of very great service to us; as it may be supposed, that
thou broughtest a child, to Dionysos, at seven months end.

At these words Kallirhoe cried aloud: -- O rather let it perish!

Plangon then employing dissimulation: -- Woman (said she) thou judgest wisely, in
choosing rather to destroy thy fruit. Let this be done, as it will be less dangerous than to
impose upon my master. Erase then, from thy memory, all thoughts of thy nobility; and
entertain no farther hopes of ever returning to thy native country. Suit thyself to thy
present mean condition, and be truly a slave.

While Plangon was thus employing all the powers of persuasion; the young Kallirhoe,
being ingenuous and unacquainted with the mean wiles of servants, did not entertain the
least suspicion. But the more urgent Plangon was for Kallirhoe to make away with her
infant, the more it raised the future mother's compassion.

Give me (said she) time to deliberate; as I must choose between two mighty things, viz. --
either my chastity, or my child.
Plangon again commended her, for not making her option rashly; as equal reasons might
be given, in favor of either resolution; since the one pleaded for conjugal fidelity, and the
other for maternal love. However, (added she) there is no time for delay; thou must
absolutely determine, one way or other, by tomorrow at farthest, and before thy
pregnancy shall be discovered.

Having this settled matters, they parted.


KALLIRHOE then retired to an upper apartment, when shutting the door, she laid
Chaireas's picture upon her bosom, and said — We are now three; husband, wife and
child. Let us deliberate on our common welfare. In the mean time I will first declare my
opinion, and that is, to die the wife of Chaireas only. Having no commerce with any other
man, will be dearer to me than my parents, my country, or my child.

And now, (my sweet babe’s) what is thy choice? To die by poison, and not behold the
sun; to be cast out with thy mother; and, perhaps, not to be allowed even a grave: or, on
the other hand, to live, and be the child of two fathers; the one prince of Sicily, the other
of Ionia? Being afterwards arrived at manhood, Thou wilt easily be known by thy parents
and kindred; for firmly persuaded I am, that thou, when born, wilt resemble thy father.
Thou wilt sail to thy native country with splendor, in a Milesian ship. Hermocrates will
joyfully receive his grandson; by that time qualified to command on the ocean. Thy
determination (O my child) is contrary to mine; and does not permit me to die.

Let us now hear and consult also thy father. But he has already given his opinion; for,
standing before me in a dream, he said: I give (O wife!) my boy in trust to thee. I call thee
(O Chaireas!) to witness, that it is thou who leadest me to wed Dionysos. Kallirhoe
passed that day and the following night in such reflexions; and resolved at last to live; not
for her own sake, but for that of her child. Plangon coming to her next morning, sat down
at first with an air of melancholy, and as one who would console her: when both
remained silent for a long time; but, at last, Plangon spake thus:

What hast thou resolved upon? How are we to act? We have no time to lose. Kallirhoe
could not immediately return to an answer; her tears, and her cries, restraining her
tongue; but, at last, the following words burst from her. My child betrays me against my
will. Do whatever thou thinkest may be best. But I fear, that should I yield to Dionysos's
desires he yet would contemn my abject condition; and looking upon me as his harlot,
rather than, as his wife, will not therefore bring up another man's son. Thus might I
sacrifice my continence without reaping the least benefit.
Having said these words, Plangon interrupted her: — I have reflected, (said she) on this
affair long before thee, and taken the proper measures. I love thee more than I do my
Lord. Trust then to Dionysos's humanity. He is an excellent man: but though he is my
master, I yet will extort an oath from him. It is necessary that we act with the utmost
caution; and do thou (my child!) in the mean time, confide in me. I will now go, and
carry thy message.




DIONYSOS, now imagining that he was repulsed by his darling Kallirhoe; and his
patience being exhausted, he resolved to starve himself. He then made his will, in which
he gave directions for his funeral; and conjured Kallirhoe to visit him, though he were
dead. Now Plangon going into her Lord's apartment, when a servant, who had received
orders not to admit any one, stopped her. Dionysos heard a noise and quarrelling at the
door, when enquiring about it; and the servant telling him that Plangon was there: She is
come (said the master) at an unseasonable time; he not caring to see any object which
might remind him of his passion. However, call in Plangon, (said Dionysos) upon which
she opened the door, and spake as follows.

Why dost thou (my Lord!) thus torture thy self and pine away with sorrow, as though
thou wert disdained; since Kallirhoe invites thee to join with her in the bands of hymen.
Dress thyself then in splendid attire; offer up sacrifices and give feastings, and receive thy
much-loved bride.

Dionysos was all amazement at this unexpected news; and his eyes, as well as mind, were
veiled in darkness; Being wasted through fasting, he appeared like one dead; when
Plangon making bitter moan, alarmed the whole family, who ran up and down, and
bewailed their master as though he had been dead. Kallirhoe herself could not refrain
from tears on this melancholy occasion: and so piercing was her cries, that she could not
forbear deploring Dionysos's loss, as though he had been her husband. A little time after,
Dionysos recovering himself, though with great difficulty; What deity (said he, in a
feeble tone) now deceives me, and would draw me from my fixed resolution? Heard I
those things dreaming or waking: and will Kallirhoe be my bride; she who even shuns my

Plangon standing by him: Cease (my Lord!) said she, to afflict thyself. Be not diffident
with regard to thy own happiness. I do not impose upon my master: Kallirhoe has sent me
to speak to thee concerning the nuptials. Do thou then (said Dionysos) deliver the
message. Repeat her very words without the least addition or diminution; consequently
exactly as she spake them.

Hereupon Plangon went on thus: — Kallirhoe said the house I sprung from is the first in
all Sicily. Though I have been unhappy, I yet preserve the greatness of soul which I
inherited. Fortune forced me from my native country, and my parents; but could not rob
me of the splendor of my birth. If Dionysos intends me for his concubine, merely to
satiate his lust; I will kill myself, rather than submit to so slavish, so shameful a

If, on the other hand, he intends to make me his lawful wife, I then will gladly become a
mother, in order to give issue to the house of Hermocrates. Let Dionysos deliberate on
this, not merely in his own mind, nor hastily, but with his kindred and friends; that no one
may afterwards reproach him, by saying: Thou didst nurture children whom thou hadst by
a slave, and art a disgrace to thy family. If he will not be a father, let him not be a

These words inflamed Dionysos still more; and gave him some little glimmerings of
hope, that Kallirhoe might possibly return him love for love. Then listing up his hands
towards the skies: Grant me (said he) O Jupiter! O Phoebus! a son by Kallirhoe. This
being indulged, I shall think myself more happy than the great king. Let us now go to her;
and do thou (Plangon!) whose affection for thy matter is so strong, be my guide.


THEY then went swiftly to the upper apartment, when Dionysos going, at first, to fall
hastily at Kallirhoe's feet, restrained himself; and sitting down with the gravity becoming
a man of high rank, he spake thus: I am come (my fair one!) to return thee thanks for
having saved my life; for I should never have employed force, hadst thou opposed my
wishes; but was resolved to die, had I been disappointed in my hopes. Thou hast restored
me to exigence; and though I owe thee infinite obligations, I yet must blame thee in one
particular, viz. for not thinking that I would make thee my bride pursuant to the laws of
Greece, in order for us to have legitimate children. Did I not love thee, I should never
have wished for such nuptials. But thou (methinks) must look upon me as out of my
senses, to imagine, that I would treat a woman nobly born, as a slave; or to conclude that
it were derogatory to me, to have a child who should be the grandson of Hermocrates.
Thou desirest me to deliberate upon this. I have done that already. Thou art afraid of my
friends; thou, whom I prize above them all. Who will presume to hint, that a son of mine,
whose grand-sire is more illustrious than his father, is unworthy of me?

Saying these words, which tears interrupted, he drew nearer to Kallirhoe, who blushing,
gave him a gentle kiss, and said: Dionysos! I do, indeed, trust to thee, but I cannot trust to
fortune; because she lately tore me from the enjoyment of the chief terrestrial blessings:
and I am afraid she will not be sincerely reconciled to me for the future. Do thou then, as
a man of the strictest honor and justice, call the gods to witness; not for thyself, but for
thy citizens and kindred; in order that no one may be induced to form any malicious
attempt against me hereafter; when they shall be told of the oath thou hast taken. A
woman without friends, and a foreigner, is much exposed to contempt and ill usage.

By what deity (cried Dionysos) wouldest thou have me swear? I am ready (were this
possible) to soar to the skies, and there, clasping the knees of Jupiter, to swear by him.

Swear (said Kallirhoe) by Neptune, because he brought me hither; by Venus, who first
pointed me out to thee; and by Cupid, who leadeth me to thee as thy bride.

This pleased Dionysos, and he immediately took the oath. Cupid was now overjoyed to
add to the number of his triumphs. Dionysos's love increasing, he could not bear the
thoughts of delaying his marriage; it being extremely difficult for a man to check the
gratifying of his desires. But Dionysos, who had received an excellent education, felt a
tempest in his breast, and his soul was much sunk. He yet struggled with all his might,
against the billows (as it were) of his passion; to prevent his being shipwrecked by its
violence. He then made the following reflections, by which he endeavored to fix his
restless mind.—— Shall I wed, in a solitude, and without witnesses, a woman whom
money purchased?

It would argue the utmost meanness in me not to celebrate my nuptials, with Kallirhoe,
the most solemn manner. In the first place, I ought to pay every honor to this woman, as it
will insure my future felicity. Fame is the fleetest and most prying of all messengers; and
wings the air with a rapid and unchecked progress. From her, things, is ever so strange,
cannot be concealed. She already flies to Sicily with the following news; Kallirhoe is still
living. Robbers, having broke open the sepulcher, stole her from thence, and sold her in
Miletus. Hither will arrive a fleet of Syracusian gallies, under Hermocrates, to demand
his daughter. What shall I then say? Theron sold her to me. But where is Theron to be

Supposing that my words were credited, it then would appear that I had given shelter to a
pirate. Respect (O Dionysos!) on this affair; which thou, perhaps, mayst be obliged to
debate before the great king. It will therefore best for me to be able to say thus: being
informed that a woman of birth was, by I know not what accident, brought to this place; I
afterwards espoused her, with her own consent, pursuant to the laws. By this conduct I
shall persuade my father in law, that I am not unworthy of his alliance. Be steadfast (my
soul!) some little time more; in order that thou mayest enjoy the longer, and with greater
security, all thy pleasure. I then shall have more influence at the trial, by appearing as a
husband, not as a master.-— Having thus determined, he called Leonas, and said to him:
Go to the city, and prepare the nuptials with as much magnificence as thou mayest think
necessary. Let herds and stocks be brought thither, as also corn and wine both by sea and
land; for I am resolved to invite the whole city to feast at my wedding.
Having carefully given directions for every thing, he himself set out for the city, next day,
in a chariot; ordering Kallirhoe, whom he would not show publicly yet, to be conveyed,
about the evening, in a barge, to his house which stood near the harbor called Docimos.
Now the first thing done by Kallirhoe (who was delivered to the care of Plangon) before
she left the country, was to offer up prayers to Venus; when entering her temple, and
causing every one to depart from it, she thus addressed that Deity:

Ought I (O Venus, my goddess) to be offended with, or to return thee thanks? Thou didst
give me in marriage, when a virgin, to Chaireas: and thou wilt now bestow me, in
wedlock, upon another man. However, I should not have been compelled to this, (I swear
by thee, and by thy son) had not my infant betrayed me: Saying which me pointed to her
bosom. I supplicate thee for his sake, not for my own. Grant that my artifices may impose
upon Dionysos: and since my babe has no real father, grant that he may be thought the
child of Dionysos; for, when arrived at years of maturity, he will find out his father.

Kallirhoe being come from the temple to the seashore, the mariners gazed with
astonishment; and were no less charmed than is Venus herself had been going on board.
Crowds flocked round, and all were eager to worship her. The rowers exerted uncommon
vigor; so that the barge arrived, quick as thought, at the port. By daybreak next morning
the whole city wore chaplets; when every one offered up victims, not only in the temples,
but before their own doors. Various were the conjectures who the bride could be. The
lower sort of people struck with her exquisite beauty, and not knowing who she was,
were persuaded that one of the nereids was risen out of the ocean; or that the goddess
herself was come from Dionysos's sylvan scenes; the mariners haying spread a report,
that she revealed herself in them.

The whole city had but one wish, which was, to see Kallirhoe; and the multitude crowded
to the temple of Concord, where, pursuant to the Milesian custom, the bridegroom was to
receive his bride. Kallirhoe now, for the first time since her burial, appeared in splendid
vestments: for having till then formed a resolution never to marry again, she imagined
that her country and her high rank, would serve her instead of beauty.

Being then clad in a slowing Milesian robe, and adorned with the bridal crown, she
turned towards the people, when they all cried aloud: These are the espousals of Venus!
Purple carpets were spread upon the ground; roses, and violets were strewed; and
ointments poured forth, all the way she passed. No one stayed at home. Old people and
children came from their dwellings; the port was quite a desert; and many, by reason of
the vast crowds, climbed to the tops of houses. But some envious God beheld that day,
with inauspicious eyes, as I will soon relate; after giving an account of what passed,
about the same time, in Syracuse.

THE robbers of the sepulcher had closed it very carelessly, as it was night, and as they
were in great haste to get away: and Chaireas, so soon as it was daybreak, went thither;
upon pretence of carrying crowns or chaplets and libations1; but, in reality, with a
resolution to kill himself. As he was unable to bear his separation from Kallirhoe, he
thought that death only could heal his anguish. Being come to the Mausoleum, he found
the stones of it had been moved, and that the entrance was open. Chaireas was terrified at
the sight; and infinitely perplexed, as he did not know how to account for what he saw.
Fame, that swift-winged messenger, soon spread through Syracuse the news of this
unexpected event; whereupon the whole city ran to the sepulcher; though no one durst
enter it, without an order from Hermocrates.

At last, a person going in, and making an exact report of what he had seen; no one would
believe that the dead body was not there. Upon this Chaireas himself was determined to
enter, from an ardent desire he had to see again his dear Kallirhoe, though dead; but
searching every part of the tomb, he could not find the least traces of her. Many not
believing that this could be possible, they themselves resolved to go in; and doing so, all
were confounded, as not knowing what had happened. One of the spectators then
(landing up, cried aloud: The funereal treasures deposited here are stolen, which must
have been the horrid work of robbers. But where is the dead body?

The populace formed a great variety of conjectures on this occasion; when Chaireas,
lifting up his hands towards heaven. What God (cried he) now become my rival, has
snatched away Kallirhoe; and by the superiority of his power, withholds my struggling
bride? She was carried off instantly, that me might not feel the stroke of death. Thus did
Bacchus rob Theseus of Ariadne; and thus Jove stole Semele. But I knew not that my
wife was a goddess; and worthy the bed of the immortals only. However, it was not
necessary for her to have left the world so suddenly as me did, nor for such a cause.
Thetis also was a goddess, and yet she continued true to Peleus, and even had a son by
him. But I was abandoned in the very slower, the height of my passion.

What shall I do? What will become of wretched me? Shall I lay violent hands on myself?
But with whom shall I be buried? For, in the midst of my calamities, this single hope
consoled me, viz. that though I did not long enjoy the hymeneal delights with Kallirhoe,
yet that one sepulcher would have held us both. I here account to thee, (sweet creature!)
for my spotless conduit; for it is thou who dost force me to live. But seek thee I will, both
by sea and by land; and, were this possible, even in the skies. The only boon (my dear
wise!) I crave, is, that thou wouldest not shun me.
At these words the whole assembly burst into tears; and they now were as deeply
afflicted, as before for Kallirhoe. Immediately the ships put to sea; and it was agreed that
they should take different courses. Hermocrates undertook to search Sicily; Chaireas
went for Lybia; while some were dispatched to Italy; and others had orders to cross the
Ionian sea. Yet all these human efforts were vain; but Fortune, without whose aid nothing
can be persecuted, brought the whole truth to light; as will appear in the sequel of these

The impious pirates having sold the woman (a merchandize not easily disposed of), they
left Miletus, and sailed towards Crete, knowing that this was a large, rich island; whence
they hoped, that they should easily sell the rest of their cargo in it. But a furious wind
arising, it drove them from their intended course, into the Ionian sea, (that unfrequented
ocean) whereon they, sad and forlorn, were long tossed. There dreadful storms of thunder,
lightning, and a long, long night, dismayed those wretches; providence manifestly
evincing, that it was for Kallirhoe's sake only that they, till then, had been favored with so
prosperous voyage.

These pirates seemed at the gates of death every moment; but God prolonged the tempest,
in order that they might not be freed from their terrors and come to a fatal end. The earth
rejected these miscreants: for after having been long tossed about the ocean, they, at last,
were in want of every necessary, particularly drink. Their wicked wealth was not then of
the least advantage to them; on the contrary, they perished, satiated with gold.

But now they repented, though late, of their enormous crimes; reproaching each other to
no purpose. The whole crew, (Theron excepted) died of thirst. He, even in this extremity
of distress, not forgetting his wonted detestable cunning; which prompted him to steal,
clandestinely, the liquor that his companions ought to have shared; an action he gloried
in, as in all others of that sort.

Here behold the anger and indignation of fortune2, who reserved this wretch for tortures,
and for the cross. The ship where Chaireas was on board, sailing at random, came up with
Theron's vessel; and at first sheered off, imagining; that she was a pirate: but observing
that she flew at the mercy of the waves, and had no pilot; one from Chaireas's ship cried
aloud: — There is not a soul on board! Let us not be afraid; but going forward, let us
examine what portent lies concealed in her.

The pilot approved of the advice; for Chaireas, having covered his head had left the deck,
and was laid down. Being now come up with the vessel, they hailed her, and asked who
was on board? But no answer being returned, one of the crew, jumping from the ship into
the vessel, found nothing in her but dead bodies and gold. This being made known to the
sailors, they rejoiced exceedingly; and thought themselves extremely fortunate, in having
sound a treasure in the midst of the ocean. Chaireas hearing an uproar, enquired the cause
of it; which being told, he himself was very desirous of examining into this novelty. But
now knowing again, immediately, the several sepulchrari polls, he tore his clothes; and in
the loudest and the most piercing accents, cried thus:— Alas! Kallirhoe, these things
belong to thee: This is the crown I placed upon thy head: That thy father gave thee; that
thy mother; and there lies the nuptial robe. A ship has been thy grave. I see the things
belonging to thee, but where art thou?

Of the several articles lodged in the Mausoleum, the deceased only is wanting. Theron,
struck at these unexpected words, was bloodless; and lay extended like the dead bodies of
his companions. Although he, after much reflection, had formed a resolution, not to udder
a single word, nor to move ever so little (well knowing what would be his fate should he
be discovered); yet, as man is infinitely fond of life; and does not despair, in the extremes
of misery, of a change for the better; (God, the Creator of the world, having inspired all
human beings with these sage thoughts, in order that they might not free themselves from
a wretched life).

Theron, who was parched with thirst, burst forth these words: Give me drink! ——

After liquor had been brought, all imaginable care was taken of him; when Chaireas,
sitting down by him, spake thus: Who art thou, and whither art thou bound? Whence
hadst thou these things? and what hast done with the mistress of them? Theron not
forgetting his usual guile, and having recourse to wicked artifice, replied; Crete is my
native country. I was sailing for Ionia, to seek after my brother, who is a soldier in that
island; when I was suddenly abandoned, in the harbor of Cephalonia, by the passengers. I
then went on board this little vessel which very luckily for me, happened to sail that way.
We next were drove by furious winds into this sea; and being afterwards long becalmed,
all the crew died of thirst, except myself, who was preserved for my piety. Chaireas
having heard this, ordered the vessel to be towed by their ship, till they should arrive at
some of the ports of Syracuse.

Sacrifices to the dead are here meant.
By this, Providence seems to be meant.


FAME, naturally swift, flew then with unusual rapidity, to spread many wonderful
tidings. Every one crowded to the seashore; and all were agitated by different passions.
Some wept, while others wondered; some asked questions, and others were in doubt; but
all were struck with the strangeness of the incident. Kallirhoe's mother, at the sight of the
various articles which had been lodged in the sepulcher with her daughter, finding them
entire, as he counted them over; she vented a flood of tears, and cried: — My child, thou
only art wanting! What new kind of robbery is this; to steal only my daughter, and
preserve the vestments and gold I see? — The shores and harbors echoed with the
wailings of women; and both sea and land were filled with lamentations.

Hermocrates, who had borne the highest offices in the state, and was a man of
consummate experience, said: — It were needless for us to make an enquiry here, in a
tumultuous manner. This must be done regularly, and with legal solemnity. Who knows
but that this affair may require the presence of the judges? — While he spake, the theatre
was crowded. Great numbers of women came thither likewise. And now all the people,
big with, expectation, were seated: when Chaireas entered, clad in deep mourning, pale
and dismal in aspect; and such as he appeared, when he followed his dear Kallirhoe to the
grave. He would not ascend the rostrum or pulpit, but standing on the ground, first wept
bitterly a long time; and then, strongly endeavoring to speak, words could not find
utterance. At last, the multitude bidding him go up, and begin; Chaireas with great
difficulty listed up his eyes, and said.

This is not a time to declaim, but to moan: and yet I, compelled by dire necessity, do
speak; and will live till I find the wretch who has robbed me of my Kallirhoe. For this
purpose I set out from this place, in a galley: but whether my voyage has been propitious,
or otherwise, I cannot say. For I spied a vessel sailing beneath a cloudless sky, and in a
stark calm; but all tempest within, and near foundering, though the ocean was quite
smooth. Surprised at this, we came up with the vessel when, me thought I beheld the
sepulcher of my poor, hapless wife, and every thing that had been buried with her; and
she only missing. There also were many dead bodies (which is no ways our concern) but,
among them, a man almost expiring was found; and him I have preserved, with the
utmost care, for your examination. Hereupon the lectors, or sergeants of the court, led
Theron, shackled as a criminal, into the theatre, followed by a suitable retinue, viz. the
wheel and catapult; fire, and scourges.

Providence now going to reward him for his past abominable exploits. Being brought
before the Archontes, or chief magistrates, one of them interrogated him thus: Who art

My name (replied he) is Demetrius.

Of what country?
Of Crete.

What canst thou say for thyself?

Sailing (cried he), towards Ionia, to visit my brother; I was abandoned by the ship's
company. I thereupon was obliged to go on board a small vessel, which was passing that
way; the crews whereof I supposed to be merchants, but now find they were robbers of
sepulchers. Having been long tossed on the sea, and our provisions failing, the crew were
starved to death; and I only have been preserved, as a reward for my never having
committed, to my knowledge, a single crime. O Syracusians! Ye who are renowned for
humanity, be not more cruel to me than the ocean and thirst have been.

He uttered these accents so very dolefully, that most of the assembly were moved to pity;
and his words would, possibly, have soon made so strong an impression on his auditors,
as to induce them to acquit, and bestow upon him provisions; had not some Deity, to
revenge the wrongs of Kallirhoe, intervened; justly offended at Theron, for his having
employed such persuasive eloquence, in so abominable, a cause: since, had his words
prevailed, a most shocking circumstance must have happened, viz. that the Syracusians
would have thought a wretch had been preserved, merely as a reward for his piety, who
was most fortunately saved, on no other account, than that he might be punished with
greater severity than any of his companions. A fisherman, who was sitting among the
crowd, happened to know him; and thus whispered the people near him: 1 lately saw this
fellow loitering about our port.—-These words were soon spread round, upon which one
cried aloud: The culprit tells a falsehood.

And now the whole people took the alarm; when the man, Who first said that he knew the
prisoner, was ordered to leave his seat, and advance into the middle of the theatre.
Theron, while affirming that he was not the person; magistrates then calling in the
executioners, these scourged the impious wretch; who long bore, with such undaunted
resolution, the tortures, both by fire and sword, that he almost rose superior to them all.
But sharp are the slings of conscience in every man; and truth conquers all things: for
Theron made, at last, a full confession, though with great difficulty and by slow degrees;
he speaking as follows:

Happening to spy riches depositing in a Mausoleum, I got together a band of robbers. We

then broke open the sepulcher, and therein found a living woman who was supposed to be
dead. We afterwards took out every article from the tomb; and putting the whole on board
a vessel, sailed for Miletus, where we sold the woman only and were carrying the rest of
the cargo to Crete; but being driven by the winds, into the Ionian sea, yourselves have
been eye witnesses to our sufferings. He then disclosed every particular, except the name
of the purchaser of Kallirhoe.
After this declaration, joy and cries filled the breasts of all the spectators: joy, because
Kallirhoe was still living; cries, because she had been sold. Theron was then sentenced to
die; but Chaireas entreated that a reprieve might be granted him, for a short time; in order
(said Chaireas) that he may inform me who has bought Kallirhoe. Behold (added he) to
what a sad necessity I am reduced; thus forced to sue for the villain who sold my wife.

Hermocrates, however, opposed this request, saying: That it were better they should be at
more pains and trouble, in seeking his daughter, than to violate the laws.——I beseech
you, O Syracusians! (subjoined he) to call to mind my past services on board your fleets,
and the trophies I have won; and to reward my daughter for them. Be so kind as to send
an embassy for her; and let us bring her back a free woman.

These words were scarce uttered, when the people cried aloud — We will, every one of
us, go in search of Kallirhoe, is necessary; and most of the senators readily offered the

Hereupon Hermocrates said:—Accept all of my warmest thanks, for the honor you intend
me: -- but two of the senators, and two from among the people, will be ambassadors
sufficient; and Chaireas may make the fifth.

This resolution pleased universally, and was assented to, upon which the court broke up.
Theron was then led to execution, through vast crowds of people; when being fastened to
a cross, before the entrance of Kallirhoe's sepulcher; he thence saw the sea, over which he
had carried, as a slave, the daughter of Hermocrates, whom the Athenians could never
take prisoner.


ALL the rest were of opinion, that it would be prudent to wait till the sea should be open,
and not venture out till spring; it being then the depth of winter, at which season the
Ionian ocean was judged impassible. But Chaireas, fired by love, was already prepared;
and sitting out a ship with amazing expedition, was impatient to give himself up to the
winds, and waves; a danger no one else dared to run. Hereupon the ambassadors, excited
by the example of Chaireas, and especially of Hermocrates, would delay no longer, but
immediately took measures for their departure. The Syracusians, to add splendor to this
embassy, sent it forth in the name, and at the expense, of the public; and put to sea the
admiral's ship, which still bore the ensigns of victory.
The day fixed for their sailing being come, the people flocked to the seashore; not only
men, but also women and children. Then were blended prayers, tears, groans,
consolation, fear, trust, hope and despair. Ariston, father to Chaireas, though in the
extremes of decrepitude, and bowed down with sorrow, would yet be carried thither;
when clasping his son's neck, and hanging upon it, he (weeping bitterly) cried: To whom,
my son! dost thou abandon wretched me; worn out with age, and half dead? for I shall
never behold thee more. Put off thy voyage for some few days, that I may die in thy arms,
Bury me, and then set out.

His mother, clasping his knees, cried: O my son! Leave me not here, sad and
inconsolable, I conjure thee; but take me on board thy ship, for light is my weight; but
should I prove too heavy, then throw me into the sea which thou art going over. Saying
these words, she beat her breasts, and taking them forth, she cried:

Cast thine eyes hither, and take pity on me;

Is e'vr, to stop thy tears, too soothe thy heart,
I gave thee suck, and lull’d thee soft to rest,

Chaireas, overcome by the entreaties of his parents, threw himself from the ship into the
sea; that he might not be prevented from going in search of Kallirhoe, nor torture any
longer his father and mother. The sailors leapt in immediately after Chaireas, and drew
him forth with much difficulty.

Hermocrates, seeing the multitude dispersed, ordered the pilot to weigh anchor forthwith;
when a new incident happened, which exhibited an act of the most generous friendship.
Polycharmus, a friend of Chaireas, had not appeared abroad, while all these preparations
were making; but had said to his parents — Chaireas is indeed my friend; yet not to such
a degree, as to induce me to follow him in the extremes of danger; I therefore will
conceal myself, till he shall set sail.

Now when the tide had carried the ship at a considerable distance from shore,
Polycharmus, showing himself from the stern, bid farewell to his parents; as it would not
then be in their power to withhold him. Chaireas being got out of the harbor, and gazing
on the sea, cried: Do thou (great ocean!) direct me the same course as thou didst
Kallirhoe. And grant, (O Neptune!) either that I may bring her back; or myself never,
never return; for I had much rather be enslaved with my wife, than not recover her.

THE wind proved favorable to their ship; which pursuing almost the same track with that
of the pirate-vessel; arrived, in the like number of days, in Ionia, on the beach near to
Dionysos's estate. Now most of the people on board, being greatly fatigued, went ashore,
in order to refresh and recover themselves. Immediately they set up tents, and brought out
provisions. But Chaireas and Polycharmus roving about, and examining every thing: the
former said:

How will it be possible for us to find Kallirhoe? for I am above all things apprehensive,
that Theron must have amused us with falsities; and that the dear, ill-fated creature is
dead ere this time. And though he were really sold; who could inform us in what country?
Asia is of a vast extent. While they were thus wandering, They came to the temple of
Venus; when thinking it their duty to pay adoration to that Deity; Chaireas fell at her feet,
and cried:—Thou (O goddess!) didst first bless me, on thy festival, with the sight of
Kallirhoe. Restore to me the beauteous gift, which I before owed to thy special grace and
favor. And now having ended his prayer, he rose; when listing up his eyes, he saw, on one
side of the goddess, a golden statue of Kallirhoe and the offering of Dionysos.

Instant, a tremor seiz’d his heart, and knees.

Chaireas now growing dizzy, he sainted away, which the priestess or woman who had the
care of the temple perceiving, (he brought water. Chaireas being sprinkled therewith, and
recovering, she said: Be comforted (my son!) the goddess has struck many others in like
manner: for she is much renowned, and reveals herself in the most conspicuous manner.
But this is a very happy omen. Dost thou see that golden statue? The woman whom it
represents was once a slave; but Venus has made her mistress over us all.—— And who is
me? (resumed Chaireas.) She is (said the priestess) the lady of all these lands; and wise to
Dionysos the first man in all Ionia. Chaireas was going on, when he was interrupted by
Polycharmus, who being master of great coolness, prudence, and foresight, would not
permit him to utter a word more; but taking him by the arm, forced him out of the temple;
he not being willing to have it known, who they were, till they should have fully weighed
this matter; and taken every necessary precaution.

Chaireas, while he was with the priestess, had retrained his tongue, though with infinite
difficulty; and yet he could not check some falling tears; but when he, and Polycharmus,
were got far from the temple, and alone; Chaireas, throwing himself on the ground, thus
cried aloud: — O too kind ocean! why didst thou preserve me? Was it in order that I, after
having been indulged a prosperous voyage, might behold Kallirhoe in the embraces of
another husband? This I could never have expected, even after the hapless Chaireas
should be no more. Ah! wretched me! how shall I act? I fondly hoped to have brought
thee from thy master: and did not doubt but that thy purchaser, allured by the large sum I
should offer him, would gladly have restored thee to me; but now I have found thee rich;
and perhaps a queen. How much happier should I have been, had I even seen thee an

Shall I now go to Dionysos, and say to him, “Restore me my wife?” But I could not
accost thee, though though we were to meet in the streets: and what is still more grievous,
I should not be permitted to salute thee as my country woman; a pleasure that would be
refused to me only. Perhaps too, I might run the hazard perishing by being supposed an
adulterer, with regard to my own wife. While he thus poured forth his lamentations,
Polycharmus used his utmost endeavors to console him.


IN the mean time Phocas, under-steward to Dionysos, spying a ship of force, was not a
little alarmed on that account; when showing much kindness to one of the sailors, he
learnt, from him, who the persons on board were, and the motive of their voyage. He then
reflected, that the arrival of this ship must be of fatal consequence to his Lord; imagining,
that were Kallirhoe to be taken from him, he could not possibly survive loss. Bearing a
great love to his matter, he was extremely desirous of putting a stop to the impending
evil; and of preventing a war; not a mighty one, indeed, nor of a public nature, but pearly
affecting Dionysos's family. For this purpose, he rode, with the swiftest speed, to a
fortress, garrisoned by some Barbarians, and spake thus to them:— A ship of force has
put in here, and lies hid under the ramparts, which look on the sea; but whether she be a
spy, or comes in hopes of a booty, I cannot tell: but surely it will be much for the king's
interest, that we take and plunder her, to prevent her doing mischief. Phocas prevailed
with the Barbarians, by his fallacious arguments, to go; and he himself led them in
regular order. The Barbarians then fell upon the ship's company, who were quite
unprepared for such an attack, in the dead of night; and throwing fire into the vessel, they
burnt her; after which they bound in chains such of the people as they found alive, and
imprisoned them in the fortress. A partition being then made of the slaves; Chaireas and
Polycharmus most earnestly besought the victors, that they might be sold to one and the
same master. In compliance with this request, the purchaser of both sold them in Caria;
where dragging heavy fetters, these ill fated men tilled the lands of Mithridates. Now it
happened that Kallirhoe had a dream, in which she saw Chaireas in irons; who would
feign have approached her, but could not. Immediately she, venting a loud, sad sigh in her
sleep, cried: Come hither, O my Chaireas!-—

This being the first time that Dionysos had heard his frightened wife pronounce the name
of Chaireas; he asked her, who that person was was whom she called upon? Her tears
betraying her, and being quite unable to conceal her distress, her anguish burst into these
words: Alas! I did address my husband, he who possessed me a virgin-bride. O unhappy
man! miserable even in dreams. I saw him loaded with irons. But thou, (most unfortunate
of mortals!) didst lose thy life in searching after me; for these chains sadly denote that
thou art dead; while I still survive, and riot in the most luxurious delights. I now repose,
with another husband, in a bed glittering with gold; yet I, ere long, will hasten to thee; for
since we could not enjoy each other, when living; we will join together in death.

Dionysos on hearing these words, made a variety of reflections. He was fired with
jealousy, as Kallirhoe discovered. a love for Chaireas, although dead. He likewise was
afraid that she would make away with herself. On the other hand, he entertained hopes, as
she seemed to suppose her first husband was no more; that she therefore would not
forsake him who then enjoyed her. In the mean time, Dionysos strove to comfort, by
every means possible, his afflicted wife; and watched her narrowly, during many days,
for fear she should destroy herself. The hopes Kallirhoe entertained, that Chaireas might,
perhaps, be still living; and that her dream was mere illusion, softened her cries; but
chiefly her pregnancy.

She, seven months after their nuptials, being delivered of a son, who was supposed to be
the offspring of Dionysos, though Chaireas was the real father. Vast rejoicings were
made, throughout the city, on this occasion. Ambassadors came from all parts, to Miletus,
to congratulate Dionysos on the auspicious increase of his family: and so great was his
delight, that he yielded to every thing which might please his wife. He declared her
mother of a family; crowded the temples with offerings; and after a solemn sacrifice,
entertained the whole city at a magnificent banquet.


KALLIRHOE, being afraid that Plangon would one day discover the secret, was
therefore very desirous that she might be made free; this woman being the only person
who knew that Kallirhoe was pregnant, the first night she cohabited with Dionysos. It
was not merely from a principle of gratitude, that Kallirhoe requested this favor; but also
be- cause of the auspicious change which had been wrought in her fortune. 1 would
willingly (said Dionysos, on this occasion) reward Plangon, for the ready assistance she
gave to our amour: but we were unjust, should should we honor a slave, and not offer up
due thanks to Venus; in whose temple we first saw each other.

I wish for this, (said Kallirhoe) more than thou dost, I having still greater obligations to
that goddess; but as I am yet in child-bed, let us continue here a few days longer; and
then we may retire with less hazard into the country. Kallirhoe soon recovered from the
inconveniencies and pains of child-birth. Her beauty increased with her strength; her
virgin vigor being now improved to that of a mother. When they were arrived at the villa,
they found that Phocas had prepared splendid feasts; as a great number of people, from
the city, attended them. And now Dionysos, the libation being made, began to offer up the
Hecatomb, when he spake thus: O Venus! (my Deity!) To thee I owe all the blessings I
enjoy: to thee I am indebted for Kallirhoe: to thee for my son: by thee I am a husband; by
thee a father. I should have been contented with Kallirhoe only, she being dearer to me
than my country, or my parents: but yet I love my son, as I thereby secure to my sets the
affection of his mother; and possess the sweetest pledge of her fondness for me. I
therefore beseech thee, (O goddess!) to preserve Kallirhoe for my sake; and the infant for

The crowd round them accompanied this prayer with good wishes, and joyful
acclamations; when some scattered roses over them; some violet's and others entire
chaplets; insomuch that the temple was strewed with flowers. Dionysos had offered up
his prayers with a loud voice, and so was heard by all the people; but Kallirhoe would
address Venus in private. She thereupon first put her son into the arms of the goddess;
when behold a group, more exquisitely beautiful then ever painters drew, sculptors
carved, or poets feigned: for none of those artists ever represented Diana, or Minerva,
holding an infant in her arms. This spectacle drew tears of joy from Dionysos, while he
was deprecating Nemesis in silence.

Having then ordered Plangon only, to continue with her, he sent back all the rest to the
villa. After the people had lest the temple, Kallirhoe advancing nearer to Venus, and
holding forth the child, said: For this infant (O goddess!) I return thee thanks, but not for
myself: which I yet should certainly have done, hadst thou preserved me my Chaireas.
Thou indeed hast given me the image of that dearly beloved husband; and not deprived
me totally of him. O grant that this babe may be more happy than his parents, and
resemble his grand-sire! May he shine in the navy; and being victorious on the ocean,
may the public, public, exulting, cry: The grandson of Hermocrates surpasses him in
valor, and is a greater man. My father will be overjoyed, in beholding a successor to his
heroism; and this will administer pleasure to his parents, though no longer ranked among
the living.

I conjure thee, (O Venus!) to be propitious to me, hence forward. My sufferings have

already been very great. I have been dead to all appearance, and restored to life. I have
been in the vile hands of robbers; have been lost to my country; been sold; and a slave;
and, what I look upon as still more grievous than all the rest, am joined to another
husband. But, to compensate fully for all these evils, I entreat thee, and all the other
Deities through thy mediation, to preserve me this hapless orphan. She would said have
added more, but was interrupted by her tears.

KALLIRHOE, after a little pause, called the priestess, who entering said: (O my
daughter!) why weepest thou in the midst of so much felicity, and when even strangers
worship thee as a goddess? Two beautiful youths came hither, not long since, from on
board a ship which was sailing this way; when one of them, at the sight of thy image,
almost died away; so illustrious has Venus made thee.—These words pierced Kallirhoe to
the heart; when she, like one distracted; looking aghast and with her eyes fixed, cried
aloud:— Who were those strangers? Whence came they? What did they say to thee?

The priestess was so terribly frightened that she, at first, remained speechless; but at last
she, with great difficulty, uttered these words:— I only saw those youths, but did not hear
them speak. Of what country (said Kallirhoe) dost thou suppose them, from their dress, to
be? Call to mind their features and their mien. The old woman then gave a description of
their persons, though not a very exact one. However, Kallirhoe guessed who both were;
as we easily believe what we earnestly desire. And now turning to Plangon: Ah! (said
she) should the wretched Chaireas have wandered hither! Let us instantly seek for him,
but with the utmost secrecy.

Kallirhoe going back to Dionysos she acquainted him with no more than what had been
told her by the priestess; well knowing that love is naturally over curious; and that
Dionysos would, for his own sake, enquire very minutely into this whole affair, and so it
fell out: He being fired with jealousy, the moment he heard these particulars. He indeed
entertained no suspicion with regard to Chaireas; but was apprehensive that some
adulterer, in order to disturb his peace, would spread snares in that solitude.

Kallirhoe's exquisite beauty made him suspect and fear everything; insomuch that he not
only dreaded the artifices of men; but even fancied that some god would, perhaps,
descend from the skies, in order to be his rival. Dionysos thereupon sending for Phocas:
Who (said he very earnestly) are those young men, and whence came they? Are they
rich? Are they handsome? Why did they worship my Venus? Who informed them of her
being here? Who encouraged them to address her?

But Phocas, standing in great awe of Dionysos; and hearing that, should Kallirhoe be
made acquainted with this affair, she would certainly ruin him, and his whole family; he,
for that season, concealed the real fact. Having then strongly persisted, in declaring that
no foreigners had landed there: Dionysos began to suspect, that still deeper plots were
forming against him. Being now inflamed with rage, he commanded the scourges and the
rack to be brought, in order to put Phocas to the torture; and not only him, but he likewise
sent for all the peasants; being firmly persuaded, that some adulterer would be discovered
by means of this enquiry.

Phocas finding that he should be in danger, whether he revealed, or suppressed the secret,
said: (O my Lord!) to thee only I will disclose the truth.—Thereupon Dionysos, having
commanded all the rest to withdraw; We now (said he) are alone. Take strict care that
thou tell me no falsity; but declare the whole truth, though ever so inauspicious. My Lord
(replied the steward) I bring no evil tidings, but great and good news. However, should
the narrative, in the opening of it, be found disagreeable; yet let not that surprise or afflict
thee, but wait till thou hast heard it through; for it will end happily. Dionysos, being all
attention at these words, cried: Do not delay; but relate at once all thou hast to say.
Phocas then began as follows:

A ship is just arrived here from Sicily, bringing Syracusian ambassadors, in order to
demand Kallirhoe of thee. Dionysos was ready to die at hearing these words, and a dark
cloud overspread his eyes; he imagining, that Chaireas was then present, and come to
force Kallirhoe from him. Now pale and livid, he lay extended like one dead; which
threw Phocas into the utmost consternation, he not knowing how to act; and therefore did
not dare to call for assistance, lest their secret should be found out. Dionysos afterwards
recovering, though with the utmost difficulty, his fainting spirits;—— Be comforted, my
Lord, (said Phocas) Chaireas is no more; the ship is destroyed; and all our fears are

These words gave new life to Dionysos, when reviving, he enquired very minutely into
every circumstance. Phocas then told him of the mariner, from whom he had learnt
whence the ship came; who the strangers on board were, and the motive of their voyage.
Likewise the stratagem employed by him, in conjunction with the Barbarians. He related
the several transactions of that night; such as their burning the vessel; the shipwreck; with
their killing part of the people, and throwing the rest in chains.

This narrative dispersed the clouds and darkness which seemed to hang over Dionysos's
mind; when embracing Phocas: Thou (said he) art my benefactor; thou the true, the most
faithful guardian of my secrets, which ought never to be revealed. To thee I owe
Kallirhoe; to thee I owe my son. I did not command thee to dispatch Chaireas; yet
shouldest thou have given the fatal stroke, I shall not condemn thee, since thou must have
perpetrated that deed, purely out of affection to thy Lord.— In one thing only thou hast
shown negligence; I mean, thy not enquiring very strictly, whether Chaireas was slain, or
only cast in chains. Is thou wert certain (added Dionysos) that he is dead; then care must
be taken of his body; then should it receive due funeral honors; and then should I recover
my peace of mind; whereas I cannot now be perfectly happy; but shall suspect that he is
among the prisoners, we not knowing to what countries they were sold.

DIONYSOS having ordered Phocas to publish these several particulars (his stratagem,
and that some people on board the ship were still living, excepted); he then went, with a
sorrowful countenance, to Kallirhoe. He afterwards assembled the peasants, whom
Phocas had already prepared; in order that whenever Kallirhoe should examine them,
concerning this affair, their answers might be such as would make her despair of ever
seeing Chaireas again. The country people flocking to Kallirhoe, informed her of every
circumstance, as things already perfectly well known, viz. that a band of robbers
(Barbarians) but whence they knew not, had come in the dead of night, and burnt the
Sicilian ship, which had put in there the day before; and that they saw, on the morrow, the
ocean tinged with blood, and dead bodies floating on it. Kallirhoe hearing this dismal
tale, tore her garments; and striking her eyes and cheeks, she ran up to the inner
apartment, whither she had been carried when first sold. Dionysos gave her an
opportunity to vent fully her cries; he imagining that it would augment it, mould he
appear suddenly before her. In the mean time he gave orders that every one should
withdraw, Plangon excepted; he thinking her presence necessary, to prevent his wife's
destroying herself. But Kallirhoe, retiring to a corner, threw herself on the floor; when
scattering ashes on her head, and tearing her disheveled hair, she thus repeated her sad
moan: It was my earnest desire (O Chaireas!) to die before thee, or at least to have
accompanied thee to the sepulcher: but I, as thou art no longer among the living, shall be
forced to follow thee in death; for what have I to hope, or to live for?

I was wont to soothe my sorrows with the following reflections: I shall one day again
behold my Chaireas; and relate, to him, the numberless woes I have suffered for his sake.
These will endear me still more to him. How will he leap for joy at the sight of his son?
But all these thoughts are now vain; and my dearest babe is a burden to me. Being an
orphan, he but adds to my other evils. Thou only (O unjust Venus!) Thou only didst see
my darling Chaireas; yet wouldest not show him to me when present, and after his
undertaking so long a voyage. Thou next didst deliver up my lovely Chaireas into the
hands of robbers. Thou had no compassion of the man, who, for thy sake, braved the
dangers of the ocean. What person will hence forward address in prayer a goddess, who,
herself, slew her humble suppliant? Thou didst not succor, in that night of horror, a most
beautiful youth, full of affection, when murdering in thy sight. Thou hast robbed me of
my contemporary; my fellow-citizen; my lover, on whom I doted; my husband. Though
he be dead, yet restore his body to me! Supposing that we were doomed to be the most
wretched of all mortals; yet what crime against thee, could the ship, that was burnt by the
Barbarians, have committed; that ship which the Athenians themselves could never take?
Our parents are now setting on the beach, expecting our arrival; and whenever they spy a
vessel, at a distance, they cry aloud: See there Chaireas returning, and with him his
darling Kallirhoe! They are preparing for us the nuptial bed; and adorning the bridal
chamber, for him who is not allowed a grave. O detestable ocean! Thou broughtest
Chaireas to Miletus, for him to fall by the sword; and me, that I might be sold as a slave.




IN tears; she bewailing Chaireas as dead, though he was still living. Afterwards
slumbering a little, she saw, in a dream, the barbarous ruffians, running with lighted
torches; setting fire to the ship; and herself succoring her darling Chaireas. Now
Dionysos felt the deepest anguish at beholding his wise's sad aspect; he being afraid, that
her profound melancholy would diminish the luster of her charms, and thereby prejudice
his affection. He yet thought it would be of advantage to him, for Kallirhoe to utterly
despair of ever seeing again her first husband. Desiring, however, to give her a proof of
the violence of his passion, and his greatness of soul, he spake thus:

Rise (my dearest Kallirhoe!) and prepare a sepulcher for that ill-fated man. Why dost
thou eagerly pursue things impossible, and neglect such as are necessary? Imagine him to
stand before thee, and to utter these words:—

Bury me speedily, that I may go

Thro’ Pluto's gates; and join the shades below.

Though the corpse of the hapless Chaireas be not found, it is the custom (from an ancient
law of the Greeks) to honor, with a sepulcher, those whose bodies may lie elsewhere.—
Kallirhoe was easily persuaded, as this counsel was pleasing of itself. Having now an
occupation, it soothed her sorrow; when rising from her bed, she looked about for a spot
Whereon to erect the Mausoleum; and would have fixed it near the temple of Venus, in
order that she might raise a second monument of her love. But Dionysos envied Chaireas
a place so near to the fane; he reserving it for himself; and being desirous that she should
still continue this employment.

Let us (said he) my dearest Kallirhoe, return to the city; and there raise, before the walls,
an empty sepulcher, so lofty and conspicuous;

That mariners, who view it from afar,

May, by its form attracted, stop and gaze.

The ports of Miletus (added he) are very safe and commodious; whence thy country-men,
the Syracusians, frequently touch at them; and this ambition, to set up a splendid
Mausoleum, will increase thy same among thy fellow-citizens. Kallirhoe, pleased at what
she heard, suspended, for the present, her design of building the tomb.
Being afterwards returned to the city, she began to erect, upon an eminence near the
seacoast, the sepulcher, resembling exactly her own in Syracuse, as to form, dimensions,
and magnificence; and built, like the other, in honor of a person who was still living. As
no expense was spared, and a vast number of hands were employed, the edifice was soon
completed; and the funeral obsequies were to be like those performed in Syracuse. The
day for this pious solemnity was publicly proclaimed. Not only all the Milesians, but
likewise most of the Ionians, flocked in prodigious crowds to the sepulcher. Two men of
high rank happened to reside, at that time, in Miletus; Mithridates, governor of Caria, and
Pharnaces, governor of Lydia. The pretence of their coming to Miletus, was to show their
respect and veneration for Dionysos; but their real motive was, to get a sight of Kallirhoe.
Her name was renowned, not only throughout all Asia Minor; but it had likewise reached
the ear of the great king; an honor which neither Ariadne, nor Leda, had attained. It was
now Kallirhoe appeared more beautiful than imagination had framed her. She came forth,
clad in mourning; her tresses slowing; with lightning in her eyes: And her almost naked
arms seemed more lovely than those of the goddesses, the snowy luster of whose hands,
and the beauty of whose feet, are so highly celebrated by Homer. No one present could
bear the splendors which darted from her face. Some were forced to turn aside their
heads, as from a slashing sun-beam. Many, falling prostrate, worshipped her; and even
the little boys felt a kind of passion for Kallirhoe. But Mithridates, governor of Caria, fell
speechless on the ground,

Like one, whom suddenly a stone assails,

Hurl'd, from a sling, by an athletic arm.

When his chief domestics, listing him up, carried him off with great difficulty. The
procession opened with the image of Chaireas, copied from the Intaglio in the ring; which
figure, though extremely beautiful, yet passed unheeded, as Kallirhoe was present: she
only, by a kind of fascination, attracting the eye of every spectator. Now who could paint,
in due colors, the close of this solemn procession! Being come near to the Mausoleum,
those who carried the funeral bed, set it down; when Kallirhoe ascending it, threw her
self along on Chaireas's image, and kissing it a thousand times: Thou (said she) didst first
bury me in Syracuse; and I, in return, now inter thee in Miletus. The woes we have
suffered are not only very grievous, but even astonishing and almost incredible. We have
entombed each other, and yet neither of us is possessed even of the other's corps. O
envious Fortune! Thy extreme hatred would not permit us, when deceased, to be covered
with the same earth; but ordained, that our very bodies should be exiles. The whole
multitude burst into wailings, and every one pitied Chaireas; not because he was
supposed dead, but because he had been robbed of so enchanting a wife.

WHILE Kallirhoe was thus burying Chaireas in Miletus, he, with irons on his feet, was
tilling the ground in Caria. There his body was soon emaciated, owing to the variety of
his sufferings; to his prodigious toils; to his neglect of himself; to his chains: but much
more than all these, to his love. He would gladly have died then, had not some
glimmerings of hope, viz. that he might, perhaps, see Kallirhoe once again, kept up his
fainting spirits.

His friend Polycharmus, who was his fellow slave, seeing that Chaireas, by his not being
able to labor, was therefore most shamefully beat and abused, spake thus to the overseer:
—Assign us apiece of ground apart, in order that we may not be blamed for the idleness
of all the rest of the slaves; and we then will completely plough, by an appointed day, the
portion allotted us.

The overseer granted his request, and marked out eat a spot accordingly. Now
Polycharmus, being very healthy and robust, and no ways a captive to that most cruel of
all tyrants, Love; cultivated, almost singly, the ground allotted to both; he, with the
highest joy, taking this toil upon himself, to save the life of his friend. While Chaireas and
Polycharmus were thus struggling with ill fortune, it was exceedingly difficult for them to
forget their once happy state of liberty.

In the mean time, Mithridates the governor returned to Cana; not cheerful and florid as
when he left it, in order to go to Miletus; but pale and thin, like one whose heart had
received a deep, though pleasing wound. His passion for Kallirhoe thus consuming him;
he would certainly have died, had he not met with the following consolation. Some of the
slaves, who were chained with Chaireas (there being sixteen shut up in a dark dungeon)
having got off their irons, in the dead of night, and murdered their keeper; had attempted
to make their escape, but were prevented by the barking of dogs, placed there to watch.
Being thus caught in the fact, they were all loaded, that night, with heavier irons. In the
morning, the steward informed his lord of these several things; when he, without either
seeing them, or hearing their defense, instantly gave orders for the crucifixion of all the
sixteen who were imprisoned together, and charged with the same crime.

They then were brought forth, with chains about their necks and feet; every one carrying
his cross. Then administers of the torture heightened the necessary punishment with all
this apparatus of horror, to strike the stronger terror into the rest of the slaves. Chaireas
being now dragged to execution, was silent; but Polycharmus, who bore his cross, burst
into the following exclamation: To thee (O Kallirhoe!) we owe all these sufferings! Thou
art the cause of all our woe!
The steward, hearing these words, imagined that some woman was an accomplice in their
attempt. In order, therefore, that she might be punished, and the contriver of these plots
discovered; Polycharmus was immediately loosed from the common chain, and carried
before Mithridates. He was then in one of his pleasure-gardens; restless in body; greatly
disturbed in mind; and recalling, lo his memory, Kallirhoe; such as he saw her, when
overwhelmed with sorrow. His soul being now full of this idea, he was offended at his
servant for coming in; and thereupon cried -- Why dost thou disturb me?

My Lord! (replied the steward) necessity forces me to it. I having sound the author of this
horrid murder; and the abominable wretch, now brought before thee, is acquainted with
the wicked woman, who was an abettor of that execrable deed.

Mithridates, hearing this, knit his brows; and, with a dreadful frown, spake thus: Inform
us of the woman, who is privy to, and partner in thy guilt. Polycharmus denied, to the
last, his knowing any thing of that affair; and solemnly protested, that he had no manner
of concern in it. Scourges, fire, and cords were then ordered to be brought in; when one
of the executioners, laying hold of Polycharmus: -- Tell us (said he) the name of the
woman, whom thou didst here confess to be the cause of all thy woes.

To this Polycharmus replied: Kallirhoe.

This name struck Mithridates; he imagining it bore an auspicious resemblance to that of

the Milesian fair one. He yet did not think it prudent to be over strict in his enquiry; lest
he should thereby bring disgrace on so loved a name: But as his friends and acquaintance
pressed him to search farther into this affair: Let Kallirhoe (cried he) be immediately
produced.—The executioners then torturing Polycharmus: Who is this woman?—-(said
they) where is she to be found? —The wretched Polycharmus, being in such agonies that
he did not know what to say, yet unwilling to accuse any woman falsely: Wherefore
(cried he) do you thus torment me to no purpose; since you are enquiring for one who is
not here? The person I spake of is Kallirhoe the Syracusian; daughter to Hermocrates the

These words a blush covered the cheeks of Mithridates, and he was all over in a sweat.
He even shed involuntary tears; which Polycharmus observing, he said no more; and all
the spectators continued silent, and in suspense; they not knowing what to think on this
occasion. Mithridates recovering at last his spirits, though with extreme difficulty:—
What hast thou (said he) to do with that Kallirhoe? And why didst thou, when ready to
expire, mention her name?
My Lord (replied Polycharmus,) the story would be long, and of no advantage to me.
Besides, I would not now trouble you with unreasonable, or superfluous words; and am
afraid that my friend, who is now fixed to the cross, will be dead before me; and I would
gladly accompany him to the shades below. The anger of the auditors vanished in an
instant; and their animosity melted into companion.

Mithridates, especially, being greatly confused, said: Fear not; thou wilt not tire me by
thy narrative; for I am naturally humane and benevolent. Thou mayest safely set forth, to
me, the whole truth, without omitting a single circumstance. Tell me then who thou art,
and thy country; how thou camest to Caria; and by what chance thou art here in chains,
tilling the ground. But, above all inform me concerning Kallirhoe, and who thy friend is.


POLYCHARMUS began his story thus:

Both of us, now in fetters, were born in Syracuse. My companion is the fairest youth, in
all Sicily, for rank and wealth; and once remarkable for the beauty of his person. I am of
mean extraction, and yet his companion and friend. We left our parents, and our native
country, and put to sea: I out of regard to him; and he for the sake of his wife, named
Kallirhoe; whom Chaireas, supposing her dead, had interred with great funeral pomp.
After this, some sacrilegious wretches, breaking open the tomb, found her alive; and
carrying her to Ionia, they there sold her. Theron, who was the robber, being put publicly
to the torture, confessed all these particulars.

Hereupon the Syracusian commonwealth sent out a ship of war, having ambassadors on
board, with orders to seek Kallirhoe. This ship, when lying quietly at anchor near
Miletus, some barbarians burnt in the night; and killed most of the crew; after which,
throwing myself, and my friend, into irons, they brought us hither, and sold us for slaves.
We bore our misfortunes with fortitude and moderation; when some of the captives
imprisoned with us, (but who we know not) having broke their chains; they committed
the murder, for which we, by thy command, were all led to the cross.

My companion, even when going to die, did not accuse his wife; but I, (alas!) overcome
by the intolerable pangs, named her; and declared her to have been the cause of all our
evils; as it was for her sake, only, that we had undertaken this voyage.

He had not done speaking, when Mithridates cried aloud: Thou meanest Chaireas!
Yes, (replied Polycharmus); Chaireas, my friend. I now beseech thee (my Lord) to order
the executioner not to separate our crosses.

To this sad relation, tears and groans succeeded; when Mithridates instantly dispatched all
the people towards Chaireas, to countermand his execution. They found him just going to
ascend his cross; all the rest having been put to death. Those who were running, burst into
different cries at a distance; they roaring out, to the executioner: Hold! Come down!
Strike not! Leave him! And now the executioner stopped his hand; when Chaireas, who
wished to be freed from a wretched life, and an ill fated passion, descended reluctantly
from the cross.

As the crowd were bringing him along, Mithridates ran forward, and embracing him,
said: My brother, and my friend! Thy sullen and unreasonable silence had like to have
proved fatal to thee; by alluring me, as it were, to the commission of an impious act. He
instantly commanded his servants to conduit the young men to the bath; next to refresh,
and afterwards clothe each of them in a rich Grecian robe. Mithridates then invited all his
friends to a banquet; and offered up a sacrifice, for Chaireas's escape from death. The
guests caroused during many hours, their reception was very friendly; and nothing was
wanting to complete their festivity.

During the course of this mirthful entertainment, Mithridates, being heated by love and
wine, spake thus: I do not (O Chaireas!) pity thee on account of thy chains, or for thy
being sentenced to the cross; but because thou wast torn from so beautiful a wife.

Chaireas, thunder-struck at these words, cried: Where didst thou see my Kallirhoe? —

She is no longer thine, (replied Mithridates) but the lawful wife of Dionysos, of Miletus;
and they have already a son.

Chaireas, unable to contain himself, fell at Mithridates's feet, and cried My Lord! Return
me to my cross. The forcing me to live, after so dreadful a relation, would be a still
greater punishment. O faithless Kallirhoe! O most wicked of women! For thee I was sold;
for thee ploughed the ground; for thee bore the cross; for thee given up to the vile hands
of the executioner: and, while thou wert rioting luxuriously, and celebrating thy nuptials,
the wretched Chaireas was groaning in chains.

It was not enough that them shouldest marry another man, during mistress's lifetime, but
thou also must become a mother. The whole assembly began to weep, and the festival
was changed to a scene of sorrow: but Mithridates, only, was pleased at hearing all these
particulars; he fondly hoping, that he should thereby have an opportunity of speaking and
acting freely, with regard to Kallirhoe, upon pretence of assisting his friend. It is now
(said he) night. Let us go. Tomorrow we shall talk over all these matters, when our heads
shall be clear; so weighty an affair requiring more leisure.

Saying these words, Mithridates rose from table; when the company breaking up, he went
to his usual place of rest, after having allotted an apartment for the Syracusian youths,
and ordered servants to wait upon them.


THESE three passed the succeeding night in deep reflections, and not one of them could
sleep. Chaireas was exasperated, and Polycharmus soothed his anguish; but Mithridates
was overjoyed, from the hopes that, like as in the gymnastic exercises, after Chaireas and
Dionysos should have quite spent themselves in wrestling together; he, their rival, might
rush in between the two combatants; and, without contending, make the enchanting
Kallirhoe his prize.

On the morrow, everyone being ordered to give his opinion; Chaireas declared, That he
was for going directly to Miletus; and there demand Kallirhoe. He fondly imagining that
she, the instant she saw him, would no longer continue with Dionysos.

Mithridates said:—— Go then (Chaireas!) I would not stop thee; and only wish that thou
hadst not been separated, even a single day, from thy wife. Would to the gods that thou
hadst never left Sicily! but since Chance, or Fortune, who ever delights in novelty, has
doomed thee to act so tragically a part; thou must weigh things more maturely; and
conduct thyself with greater wisdom for the future. The hurry thou art now in, arises less
from reason than from passion; which blinds thee with regard to things to come; and
prevents thy acting with due precaution.

Thou art going alone, and a stranger, to a great city; there to force away, from a personage
of immense wealth, and the first in all Ionia, a wife united to him, pursuant to the most
sacred laws, and by the most solemn ties. What man, how rich, how mighty soever he
may be, can assist thee? Hermocrates and Mithridates, thy only two powerful friends, are
at a great distance from thee; and so circumstanced, as to be able only to bewail thy
misfortune, not to give thee thee succor. Besides, I am afraid that a place, where thou hast
undergone such a variety of sufferings, could not but be still inauspicious; and that
infinitely greater evils would then await thee: for though thou wast bound in chains in
Miletus, yet thy life was spared; and though sold for a slave, it was I who became thy
But should Dionysos hear, that thou art laying snares, in order to take his wife from him,
what Deity could then shield thee from his fury? Thou mightest be delivered up to the
tyrant; on which occasion no one would (perhaps) believe thee to be Chaireas; and even,
supposing this possible, thou wouldest be exposed to yet greater danger, on that very
account. Thou only art ignorant of the nature of Love; that God delighting in artifice and
fraud. I therefore would advise thee, first to sound thy wife by letter; to know whether she
has not banished thee from her memory, and would quit Dionysos; or rather,

Increase the house of the illustrious man,

To whom she’s join’d in Hymen’s rosy bands.

Write (I say) to her. Let her grieve: let her rejoice: Let her seek thee: Let her call thee. I
will take care that thy letter be safely delivered. Go then and write.

Chaireas being afterwards alone, he, in compliance with Mithridates's advice, was going
to pour forth his cries; but was prevented by his fast-flowing tears, and the tremor of his
hand. At last, after bemoaning his sad fate, he began his letter as follows:

Chaireas to Kallirhoe, greeting. I live, and owe my life to Mithridates, my patron, my

benefactor; and thine (I hope), also. I was sold in Caria, by barbarians; who burnt the
noble ship (the admiral's) which thy father commanded. With regard to the rest of my
fellow citizens, I know not what is become of them, myself, and Polycharmus, my friend,
were going to execution, when both were snatched from the jaws of death, by the mercy
of our master. Mithridates, who lavished every kindness upon me, afterwards struck a
poniard into my heart, when he informed me of thy second nuptials.

Being born a mortal, I naturally expected to die; but could never have imagined, that thou
wouldest have given thyself to a second husband. Repent, and change thy mind, I conjure
thee on my knees; I now bedewing this letter with my tears, and killing it a thousand
times. I am thy Chaireas; he whom thou didst behold when a virgin, and going to the
temple of Venus; the man for whose sake thou didst pass so many sleepless nights. Call to
mind the bridal chamber; and that mystical night when we gave each other the strongest
testimonies of chaste and inviolate love.

I indeed have been guilty of jealousy. This is natural to lovers; but then I have atoned for
it by my sufferings. I have been sold; I have groaned in captivity; I have dragged the
ignominious chain. Do not then treasure up too tenaciously in thy memory, the hasty and
most unfortunate blow I heedlessly gave thee; since I have been exposed, for thy sake, to
the horrors of the cross, without once accusing thee. If Chaireas is not yet blotted from
thy memory, all my sufferings will be as nothing: but should I be forgot, this must prove,
to me, as a sentence of death.

MITHRIDATES delivered this letter to Hyginus, his most faithful servant, and the
superintendant over all his possessions in Caria; and to to him he disclosed his secret
passion for Kallirhoe. Mithridates himself wrote a letter to her, setting forth his regard
for, and the attention he had shown her, in preserving Chaireas for her sake. He advised
her not to slight her first husband; offering to march an army to Miletus, in order that
herself, and Chaireas, might be happily restored to each other, in case this met with her

He dispatched three other servants with Hyginus; they carrying precious gifts, and a great
sum of money. The three domestics were told, (to prevent their suspecting, or being
suspected) that Mithridates had sent those presents to Dionysos. Hyginus, on his arrival at
Priene1, was commanded to leave his companions there; when himself was to go to
Miletus, under the character of an Ionian, as he was a perfect master of the Greek
language; and, after acting there as a spy and getting all the information possible, for his
better conducing the affair; he then was to fetch the other three, from Priene to Miletus.

Hyginus set out, and acted pursuant to his orders. However, fortune would not permit this
scheme to be executed, in the manner it had been projected; but gave rise to incidents,
still more important. Hyginus, being gone to Miletus, the servants whom he had left in
Priene, having now no director, and gold at command, they began to live in the most
profuse manner. In a small city (Priene) abounding with Grecian curiosity this Persian-
like luxury, of the servants, could not but draw every eye upon them; and strangers, who
thus pampered themselves were naturally considered as robbers, at least as fugitive
slaves. The governor coming to their inn, found, after the most illicit search, a great a
great quantity of gold; and abundance of very precious trinkets, and other female
ornaments; when he, supposing them to be stolen, asked the servants; who they were, and
where they had got all those things? These men, dreading the torture, declared that
Mithridates, governor of Caria, had sent those several articles as presents to Dionysos;
and then showed him the letters. The governor did not break them open, they being
sealed; but delivering them to the sergeants, with the gifts and the servants, he sent them
all to Dionysos; thinking he should thereby give him the strongest testimony of his

Dionysos had then, at his table, the most noble citizens; and the banquet was vastly
splendid. Music, both vocal and instrumental, was heard; when a servant delivered to him
the letter, whose purport was as follows:
Bias, governor of Priene, to Dionysius his friend, greeting: The gifts and letters sent thee
from Mithridates, governor of Caria, were going to be destroyed, by the wicked servants
entrusted with them; for which reason I seized, and sent them to thee.

Dionysos read this letter aloud in the midst of the company; he being delighted with the
presents, which were worthy of a king. He then ordered the other letters to be broke open,
and would have read them; when perceiving these words,— Chaireas to Kallirhoe. I live:

Instant his knees were with a trembling seiz’d.

Dimm'd were his eyes., and icy-cold his heart.

And though ready to faint, he yet held fast the letters, for fear some other person should
read them. The fright which the family and the guests were in, occasioned by this
melancholy accident; and the noise they made in hurrying up and down, brought
Dionysos to himself; when being sensible of his sad perturbation of mind, he ordered his
servants to carry him to another room; that he might be alone and undisturbed.

Upon this, the company broke up in the utmost confusion; they supposing that he had
been seized with an apoplectic fit. Dionysos being at last recovered, read over the letters
again and again; during which his soul was agitated by different passions; he raging one
moment and desponding the next: now oppressed with fear; now not believing; for he
could no ways imagine that Chaireas was still living, the bare supposition of which would
have been death to him: but he suspected, that the whole was an adulterous artifice
employed by Mithridates, in order for him to seduce Kallirhoe.

A maritime town in Ionia.


HEREUPON Dionysos caused his wife to be more strictly watched, in the day-time; to
prevent any one from approaching, or bringing her the least tidings from Caria. He now
meditated the following revenge. There happened very luckily to be then, in Miletus,
Pharnaces, governor of Lydia and of Ionia; who was considered as the chief of those
whom the king of Persia entrusted with the sway of the provinces of Asia Minor.
Dionysos went to Pharnaces, he being his friend, and desired a secret conference with
him. Being alone: My Lord, (said he,) I beseech thee to aid no less thyself than me.
Mithridates, the worst of men, and who envies thee, having lately been my guest; now
trampling on the laws of hospitality, is laying snares to disturb my conjugal felicity, by
sending a letter, and a large sum of gold, to my wife, with a view to corrupt her.
Dionysos then drew forth the letter, and reading it, informed him of the whole stratagem.
Pharnaces listened with pleasure to this discourse; and, possibly the more so, on account
of Mithridates; they being at variance, and having frequently quarreled, occasioned by the
vicinity of their provinces; but much more, because they were rivals in love: for
Pharnaces also was strongly enamored with Kallirhoe; and, for her sake, would go very
often to Miletus; and there entertain Dionysos and his wife in banquets. Pharnaces
promised to assist him with all his might; and then wrote the following letter in cipher:

Pharnaces, governor of Lydia and of Ionia, to Artaxerxes his sovereign Lord, greeting:
Dionysos of Miletus, who, with his whole family, have ever been thy faithful subjects,
and most zealously attached to thee and to thy house; declared to me, with tears, that
Mithridates, governor of Caria, whom Dionysos had hospitably entertained, now attempts
to seduce Kallirhoe his wife. This conduct reflects dishonor on, or rather is highly
prejudicial to thy interest, as every injustice, in a governor, is blame-worthy; but
especially the deed here complained of. Dionysos is the most powerful man in all Ionia;
and the beauty of his wise is so exceedingly renowned, that it will be impossible for such
an outrage to be kept secret.

This letter being brought, the king read it to his friends; and commanded them to give
their several opinions upon it; which being taken, they were found to vary very much.
Those who bore ill-will to, and envied Mithridates, or wanted his government, declared;
that a man who endeavored to draw away, by the most insidious arts, the wife of a person
of the first rank, ought by no means to be spared.

But others of a more humane disposition, and who respected Mithridates (and these were
numerous and powerful) opposed the removal, by calumny, of a man of strict honor. As
therefore the opinions were directly opposite, the king did not then determine; but
referred the matter to a future day.

Night being come, Artaxerxes reflected with indignation, on the conduct of a man, whose
duty it was to maintain the honor of his sovereign. He also revolved, with pain, an action,
which, should it pass unnoticed, would show that Mithridates might disobey the royal
orders with impunity. The monarch was thereupon for summoning Mithridates to take his
trial; but another passion prompted him to command the appearance of the beautiful
woman at the same time.

Love, and the shades of night, were his only counselors in those lonely hours: and
brought strongly to his remembrance, that part of the letter which expatiated on the
wonderful charms of the fair one. The report which had long prevailed, at court, of there
being, in Ionia, an exquisite beauty called Kallirhoe, inflamed the king still more; and he
only blamed Pharnaces for not having mentioned her name in his letter. Yet being in
doubt, whether there might not be a female, still more lovely than her who was so highly
extolled: he therefore judged proper to summon her, at all events, likewise. The king
thereupon wrote thus to Pharnaces: Send Dionysos the Milesian, my servant, to me.—

And in manner following to Mithridates: Appear and prove that thou hast not employed
artifices, to seduce the wife of Dionysos.


MITHRIDATES was thunder struck at the order, and could not conceive what might have
given rise to this accusation; when Hyginus returning, told him all that had befallen the
servants. Mithridates now finding that he had been discovered by his letters, resolved,
after the most serious reflections, not to go to the king; whose anger, and the virulence of
calumny, he equally dreaded. He therefore determined to seize upon Miletus; to kill
Dionysos, who had caused his summons; to carry off Kallirhoe; and lastly, to rebel
against his sovereign.

But wherefore (said he) should I fly, to give up my liberty into the hands of Artaxerxes?
Perhaps I may conquer all these difficulties, by slaying at home: for the king is at a great
distance. But then he may send out his generals, to oppose me. Besides, should he bring
any other charge against me, I could not suffer more than I now do. Be this as is will, I
must not, in the mean time, give up two important articles; my love, and the government
of my province. The title of prince, is pompous on a Mausoleum; and it were sweet to die
with Kallirhoe.

While he was thus debating within himself, and preparing to rise up in arms against
Artaxerxes, he received advice, that Dionysos was gone from Miletus, and had taken
Kallirhoe with him. Mithridates was more deeply afflicted at this news, than at the
luminous for him to take his trial. Bewailing then his wretched fate:——With what hopes
(cried he) do I continue here? Fortune is my enemy whithersoever I go. Perhaps
Artaxerxes, as I am innocent, will have compassion on me. But should I be sentenced to
die, I then shall again behold Kallirhoe; and Chaireas, with Polycharmus, will not only be
my advocates, but also my witnesses, at the trial.

Having commanded his retinue to attend him, be left Caria with the most pleasing hopes;
from a consciousness of his not having injured any one. And now the Carians
accompanied him., not with tears, but with victims and a splendid train.. Such was the
procession Cupid sent from Caria. But that which he dispatched from Ionia, was still
more august; it being heightened by enchanting beauty. Fame flew before, sounding forth
to the world the approach of Kallirhoe, that universally extolled name, that renowned
masterpiece of nature,

To golden Venus like, or bright Diana.

The rumor of the trial rendered her still more famous. Whole cities went forth to meet
her; the streets, wherever she passed were crowded with spectators; and she appeared still
more beautiful than imagination or fame had painted her.

Yet all these applauses, and invidious praises, served only to torture Dionysos; and his
supreme felicity served but to fill him with still greater apprehensions. Being a man of
learning, he knew the fickleness of the amorous God, who ever delights in novelty; for
which reason poets and sculptors ascribe to him darts and flames;-- both these being the
lightest things in nature, and ever volatile.

He also recalled every ancient story; with the fate, and the many vicissitudes to which
beauties have been subject. These reflections terrified Dionysos. He looked upon all men
as his rivals; not only his adversary, but likewise his judge. Hence he repented his having
communicated the accusation, so precipitately, to Pharnaces; as he otherwise might have
lived undisturbed, in the embraces of his darling wife; and have kept her much more
easily to himself, in Miletus, than when roving up and down Asia.

He yet did not discover, to the last, this secret to any person; nor inform, even his wife, of
the motive of their journey; but pretended, that the king had sent for him, to consult him
upon the affairs of Ionia. In the mean time Kallirhoe was grieved, to travel at so great a
distance from the Grecian sea; for, while the harbor of Miletus continued in sight, she
imagined herself near to Syracuse, not to mention, that the sight of Chaireas's sepulcher
was great consolation to her.





IN what manner Kallirhoe, the fairest of women, was joined in wedlock, under the
auspices of Venus to Chaireas the most handsome among men, and how, being thought
dead on occasion of a violent blow given her by Chaireas, in a fit of jealousy, she was
magnificently interred. How afterwards recovering, pirates drew her, in the dead of night,
out of the sepulcher; and crossing the sea, sold her in Ionia to Dionysos. His passion for
Kallirhoe; her fidelity to Chaireas; and the necessity she was under, on account of her
pregnancy, to marry again. Theron's confession; with Chaireas's voyage, in order to seek
his wife, his captivity with Polycharmus; and their being sold in Caria, how Mithridates
knew Chaireas again, just as he was going to suffer; and the strong endeavors used by the
former, to unite the severed lovers. In what manner Dionysos, having discovered these
particulars by means of letters, accused Mithridates to Pharnaces; and how the latter
informed against Mithridates to the king. Lastly, how the monarch summoned both the
parties to take their trial.

All these incidents have been related; and we now proceed to the sequel of the story.—
Kallirhoe was not displeased with her voyage till her arrival in Cilicia, as she had hitherto
heard the Greek language spoke; and could see that part of the ocean which flows
towards Syracuse: but when she came to the Euphrates, on the other side whereof is a
continent subject: to the king of Persia, stretching out a vast length; she then began to
sigh for her native country, and her relations; and despaired of ever returning again to

Hereupon, (landing on the banks of the river, she ordered all her attendants to retire, her
faithful Plangon excepted, and then poured forth these words;—— O envious Fortune!
too obstinately bent to persecute a hapless, forlorn woman. Thou didst shut me up in a
sepulcher; and deliver me then, not out of pity, but to put me into the hands of pirates.
Theron, and the ocean, divided my flight between them. I, though the daughter of
Hermocrates, was sold; and what is me more grievous to me than bondage, have been
beloved; and, in Chaireas's lifetime, married to another man.
Yet thou now envy me even these nuptials. Thou dost not banish me to Ionia. I there,
indeed, was in a foreign land; but then its inhabitants were Greeks; and I had the fond
consolation to dwell in the neighborhood of the sea. Thou dost now force me from the
accustomed air which I first breathed; and a whole world lies between me and my native
country. Thou dost drive me from Miletus, as before from Syracuse. I, born an islander
am dragged over the Euphrates; and shut up in the interior parts of a barbarous country;
which no sea washes. What hopes have I, that a Sicilian ship will ever sail this way. O
my Chaireas! I am even severed from thy sepulcher.

Excellent Manes! Who will hence forward offer up sacrifices to thee? Basra and Susa
will, forever after, be my habitation and my grave. O Euphrates! never shall I cross thy
flood again. I do not so much dread the length of the journey, as the misfortune of my
appearing, there, beautiful in the eyes of some one.

Having said these words, she kissed the earth; and then going on board, crossed the river.
Dionysos had a grand retinue, and splendor shone in every part of it; he, being resolved to
exhibit, to his wife, the utmost magnificence on this occasion; which, also might make
him more acceptable to the king. He met with universal courtesy in his progress; the
people of one province conducting him to the next; and each governor recommending
him to the neighboring one, for Kallirhoe's beauty fascinated and enslaved every
beholder. Those Barbarians were likewise in hopes, that this woman would one day be
very powerful. Hence all were extremely desirous of entertaining them in their houses;
and, by laying her under obligations, they expected a return of favor. Thus were matters
circumstanced at this juncture.


BUT Mithridates was more expeditious in his progress, which was through Armenia; he
being apprehensive that, should he go the same road with Kallirhoe, and immediately
after her, this would be represented, to the king, as an argument of his guilt. He also was
very desirous of arriving first, in order that he might have time to prepare every thing
necessary for, and of advantage to, his trial. Being come to Babylon, where the king then
resided; Mithridates stayed at home all that day, and devoted it wholly to rest; each
governor having his particular quarter assigned him. On the morrow he went to court,
where he first visited those of his own rank, who are called Hamotimi. After having
saluted the eunuch Artaxates, and presented gifts to him; he being in a most exalted
station, and very powerful with the king;—O Artaxates! (said he) speak thus to my liege.
Mithridates, thy servant, is come hither, in order to clear himself from the accusation
brought against him by the Greek; and to fall prostrate before his sovereign.
Artaxates coming out a little after, brought the following answer: That the king advised
Mithridates not, to prevaricate; and, with regard to the trial, that it would be entered upon
so soon as Dionysos should arrive. Mithridates then paid his adoration, and and went

Being returned to his lodgings, and alone, he sent for Chaireas, and spake thus:— I am
persecuted, and charged with a design to restore Kallirhoe to thee: for Dionysos declares,
that the letter which thou didst write to thy wife, was drawn up by me; and imagines, that
he has got evident proof of an adulterous commerce. He is firmly persuaded, that thou art
dead; and let him continue in that belief, till the day of the trial; that thou mayest then
appear on a sudden, and unexpectedly. One request I have to make, in return for my great
kindness to thee, viz. that thou wouldest have so much patience as to lie concealed; and to
forbear seeing Kallirhoe, or even making the least enquiry concerning her.

Chaireas obeyed, though with the utmost reluctance; and spite of his violent struggle, to
conceal the secrets of his soul, yet tears gushed insensibly from his eyes; whereupon he
thus replied: -- My Lord! Thy commands shall be obeyed. — Then retiring to the
apartment where he, and his friend Polycharmus, lodged, Chaireas threw himself on the
floor, and tore his garments; after which,

Distracted: with his hands he ashes scoop’d

Of jetty hue; then cast them o'er his head;
And thus the beauty of his face deform’d.

Then weeping, said: -- O my Kallirhoe! We are near; and yet must not see each other. But
this is no ways thy fault, as thou knowest not that Chaireas is still alive. But I am the
most wicked of men, who, being bid not to see thee; am yet so much a coward, and so
fond of life, as tamely to submit to a tyrannical order: whereas, had such an injunction
been laid on thee, thou wouldest have died.

Polycharmus employed the most soothing words, in hopes of consoling him; about which
time Dionysos was advanced pretty near to Babylon. Fame had previously filled the city
with the news of the approach of the woman, whose beauty was not human, but rather of
the celestial kind; and such as Sol did not behold in his mighty progress.

As the Barbarians are, by nature, distractedly fond of females, every house, and every
street echoed with this report; which reaching the king's ear, he asked the eunuch
Artaxates, whether the Milesian woman was come. Dionysos had long felt great
uneasiness, on account of his wife's being so universally talked of; a circumstance that
prevented his enjoying, with security, the happiness he really possessed; but when he
reflected that he was going to Babylon, he was not merely grieved, but all on fire;
whereupon, venting a deep sigh, he groaned thus within himself: Thou art not now (O
Dionysos!) in Miletus, thine own country. Even there thou wert afraid, of seducers. How
then couldest thou be so rash, so thoughtless of futurity, as thyself take Kallirhoe to
Babylon, where are so many Mithridates’?

In Sparta, that city so renowned for the chastity of its morals, Menelaus could not keep
Helen wholly to himself; but sound a rival in a barbarous shepherd. Many a Paris is met
with in Persia. Perceivest thou not the dangers? Seest thou not the prelude to these
things? Entire cities come forth to meet us, and governors lavish their favors upon us.
This has already swelled Kallirhoe's pride, though the king has not yet seen her. The only
way then left for thee to keep thy wife, will be to conceal her. Is she can but be hid, I shall
secure her to myself. Having thus reasoned in his own mind, he mounted on horseback,
and left Kallirhoe alone in the chariot, after drawing the curtains round her. And had it not
been for an incident which happened, his desires would very probably have been


THE wives of the greatest Persian Lords went to Statira, the king's consort, when one of
them thus addressed her: Royal lady! a contemptible, female Grecian, our enemy, who
has long been the subject of universal admiration, is coming hither. We are in danger (and
that through our own fault), of losing, in this age, the glory which so highly distinguishes
the Persian fair. Let us rouse then, and consider how we may prevent our beauty, and the
reputation of it, from being obscured by this female foreigner.

The queen smiled at these words; she giving little credit to the report, and spake thus: The
Greeks are vain, and pay no regard to truth; they making the most trifling things the
subject of admiration; thence they loudly pronounce Kallirhoe lovely, and Dionysos rich.
When therefore she shall be arrived in the city, let one of us come forth, and eclipse at
once the imaginary charms of that mean, insignificant slave.— All the ladies paid
adoration to the queen; and admiring her wisdom, they cried aloud, as with one voice:
Would (O queen!) that thou mightest be seen in public.

They afterwards differed very much in opinion; on which occasion many women,
renowned for their exquisite charms, being named; they proceeded to the election, as in a
theatre; when Rhodogune, daughter to Zepyrus, and wife to Megabyzus, was chosen; she
being a model of perfect beauty, and as renowned all over Asia, as Kallirhoe was
throughout Ionia. Hereupon the ladies led forth the chosen fair, and began to deck her;
each contributing some trinket, or other ornament, for that purpose. The queen also
presented her with bracelets and collars. Being thus splendidly arrayed, and prepared for
the congress; she set out, in high spirits, to meet Kallirhoe; which she likewise was
induced to do from a family motive; Rhodogune being sister to Pharnaces, he who had
writ to the king concerning Dionysos. All Babylon came forth to this spectacle; insomuch
that the crowds stopped the passages at the several gates. Rhodogune being conducted out
of the palace, and attended by a princely train, stopped on an eminence very visible on
every side; when, assuming the most affected airs, she seemed to challenge the
approaching stranger.

Instantly she attracted all eyes, when one said to another: We are conquerors! The Persian
lady will eclipse the foreign woman. Let her vie with Rhodogune if she can: Let the
Greeks now learn, that they are a compound of pride and vanity. —While they were thus
talking, Dionysos arrived; when being informed that the sister of Pharnaces was present,
he alighted immediately from his horse; and went up to her, to pay his respects.
Rhodogune, half blushing, said: I must salute my sitter; and thereupon flew to the chariot.

It was now impossible to conceal Kallirhoe any longer behind the curtains; so that
Dionysos was forced, though with infinite reluctance; with sighs; and through shame, to
desire his wife to alight. Instantly the multitude not only directed their glances, but fixed
their very souls, on Kallirhoe; insomuch thus they almost fell over one another; every
one: longing to see her first; and to get as near her as possible. Her face then shone; and
its lightning dazzled the eyes of every beholder; like as when a strong effulgence bursts
suddenly from amid the gloom of night. The Barbarians, now seized with astonishment,
worshipped her; and no one thought that Rhodogune was present; who finding her self
vanquished; being unable to go forward, and yet unwilling to stay behind, she stole into
the chariot to Kallirhoe; and thus submitted to be carried off by her conqueror. The
chariot (whose curtains were still drawn) went forward: and the people, being now
deprived of the sight of Kallirhoe, blew kisses after her.

The king hearing of Dionysos's arrival, commanded Artaxates the eunuch to make the
following declaration to him. As thou hast brought a charge, against a man whom I
entrusted with the government of a large province; thou shouldest not have been so slow
in thy journey. However, I pardon thy fault, as thou didst travel with thy wife. I now
celebrate a festival, and am chiefly employed in sacrifices. Thirty days hence I will hear
thy suit. Dionysos paid his adoration, and withdrew.


PREPARATIONS for the trial began presently to be made, on both sides, as for a mighty
war. The Barbarians, in general, were divided into two parties. All the governors, and
those who had any dependence on them, were for Mithridates; he being originally a
Bastrian; and lately come into Caria.

Dionysos had the favor of the common people; as snares had been laid for him, on
occasion of his wife; and such a wife as Kallirhoe: and especially as great injury seemed
to have been done him, contrary to the laws. Neither were the Persian women easy on this
occasion, they also being divided in opinion. Such of them as were proud of their own
charms, envied Kallirhoe; and wished, that she might be brought to confusion at the trial.
But most of the rest, being jealous of the beauties of their own country, prayed that the
foreigner might still maintain her shining reputation, and bear away the palm.

Both parties thought themselves sure of the victory. Dionysos trusted in the letters which
Mithridates was supposed to have writ to Kallirhoe, in Chaireas's name, whom he
imagined to be dead. While, on the other hand, Mithridates could produce Chaireas
himself; and thence was firmly persuaded that no evil could befall him. He yet pretended
fear and engaged many advocates, in order that the unexpected issue might make his
defense the more glorious. During these thirty days, the Persians, both men and women,
talked of nothing but the trial; so that, to say the truth, all Babylon seemed as one

The day appointed for the decision appeared to have been too long delayed; not only to
all the people, but even to the king himself. What Olympic games, what Eleusinian
nights, were, at any time, so impatiently expected? But now the day of trial was come;
when the king took his seat, in the apartment appointed solely for hearing causes; it being
the most spacious, and most magnificent saloon, in the whole palace.

In the center of this saloon stood the throne, with seats on each side for the king's friends;
and for those who, either on account of their rank, or of their virtues, possessed the first
employments in the government. Round the throne stood the centurions, the tribunes, and
the most honorable among the king's freedmen: whence it might justly have been said, of
this assembly, that,

The gods high-seated, round imperial Jove,

Were met in council.

The personages allowed seats, were introduced with silence and respect. The morning
being come, Mithridates first entered the court, accompanied by his relations and friends;
not splendidly dressed, nor with an open, cheerful countenance; but, on the contrary,
discovering such a miserable aspect, as seemed to pronounce him guilty. Dionysos
followed in a Grecian habit, wearing a Milesian robe, and holding the letters in his hand.
Being introduced, they paid their adoration, when the king commanded the secretary to
read the letters that of Pharnaces, and the answer to it: in order that those who, with
himself, were to judge the cause, might be made acquainted with the origin of the
process. The letters being read, the assembly gave the highest testimonies of applause; all
admiring the moderation and justice of their prince. Silence being proclaimed, Dionysos
was to be heard first, as the accuser; when all eyes were fixed upon him. Nevertheless
Mithridates spake thus:

(O my Liege!) I would not anticipate my defense, and know well the order to be observed
here; but before we proceed to the trial, it is necessary that all the parties would be
present. Where then is the woman who gave occasion to this contest? Whose presence
thou (Royal Sir!) didst think necessary; whose appearance thou did commands and who
is come to this city accordingly. Let not then Dionysos secrete the person who is the
chief, the first because, of the present session.

Here Dionysos replied;——It is acting too like an adulterer, to insist upon the bringing
forth another man's wife, before a gazing multitude, contrary to his will; She being
neither the accuser nor the person accused. Had she been seduced, she then ought to have
been present, as a culprit; but thou didst endeavor to corrupt Kallirhoe who was wholly
ignorant of thy machinations. But I do not now want her, either as a witness or as an
advocate. What necessity then is there for her forth coming, as she is wholly unconcerned
in this process?

Thus argued Dionysos, as a man well versed in the civil law; but his subtlety and
specious eloquence had not the gift of persuasion, because all longed to see Kallirhoe.

As the king, though he wished for the same, yet did not think it becoming his dignity to
command her appearance; my friends artfully referred to his letter, by which her presence
was declared necessary.——Would it not be extremely absurd (cried one) should this
woman, who is come from Ionia, and now in Babylon, not make her appearance at the

It being then resolved that Kallirhoe should come forth; Dionysos, who had not told her a
word concerning this affair, but even concealed the true motive of their journey to
Babylon; fearing his wise's just anger, as she could not but think herself imposed upon,
should he take her into court, without previously acquainting her with his reasons for this;
he therefore put off the trial, till next day, and the court broke up.

DIONYSOS now returned home; and being a wise man, and a scholar, he held such
discourses with his wife as suited the present exigency. His arguments seemed plausible
and persuasive; he informing her, very readily and with great composure of mind, of each
particular. Kallirhoe could not hear him without tears; and, at the name of Chaireas, she
sighed and wept bitterly. And now, shuddering at the thoughts of the trial, these words
burst from her: To complete my wretchedness, the only thing wanting was, for me to be
dragged before the judge. I have been laid in the sepulcher as dead, and taken from
thence by robbers: I have been sold; have been in slavery: and now (O Fortune!) I must
be forced to appear in a court of judicature.

It was not enough that thou didst induce Chaireas to think me guilty; but thou also must
expose me to be tried as an adulteress, now I am married to Dionysos. By thy triumphant
calumny, (O Fortune!) I then was carried to the tomb; and now to the tribunal of a king. I
am become the jest of Europe and of Asia.

With what eye shall I behold the judge? What words must I be constrained to hear? O
treacherous beauty! bestowed upon me by nature, only that I might be loaded With
slander. The daughter of Hermocrates is summoned to a trial, where she has no father to
plead her cause. Others, when they come before a court, supplicate its favor and
goodwill; whereas hapless I, am afraid of appearing too agreeable in the eyes of my

Kallirhoe thus bemoaning herself, passed the whole day sadly dejected in mind. Night
being come, she was conveyed in a dream to Syracuse, where, in her virgin state, she
seemed to enter the temple of Venus; and, on her leaving it, to see Chaireas; she likewise
perceived her nuptial day, and the whole city crowned with chaplets; with her parents
leading her to the bridegroom's house. And now going (as she thought), to kiss her
darling Chaireas, she started suddenly from her slumbers, and called to Plangon; for
Dionysos had risen before, in order to meditate upon the trial.

Plangon after being told the dream, spake thus: Be comforted (my good Lady!) This
vision is auspicious both to thee, and to Chaireas. Let nothing trouble thee. All that thou
sawest in thy sleep, thou wilt behold when awake. Go then to the tribunal of the king, as
to the temple of Venus. Remember who thou art, and resume thy bridal charms.—Saying
these words, she dressed Kallirhoe very splendidly, who, from secret impulse, grew
cheerful on a sudden, as an omen of her future felicity.

In the morning, numberless multitudes flocked to the palace, all the avenues to which
were now crowded, Every one seemed desirous of hearing the trial; but the real motive
was to get a sight of Kallirhoe; nor were they deceived in their expectations; so far from
it, that she then as far surpassed herself in beauty, as she before out-shone the rest of her
sex, As the divine poet1 represents Helen, appearing suddenly before Priam, Panthous,
and Thymoetes when debating: such Kallirhoe entered the court. Her presence caused
universal astonishment and silence; and all,

Wish’d to possess the treasure of her charms.

And had the course of the proceedings required Mithridates to speak first, he would have
been bereaved of voice; as his former passion, for Kallirhoe, had now received a far
deeper wound.



DIONYSOS began his harangue in manner following.

Most gracious Sovereign! I return thee all imaginable thanks for the honor thou hast done
me; and not only me, but virtue also, and all married persons in general. For thou hast not
contemned a private man whom one of thy chief officers has greatly injured; but, on the
contrary, hast summoned him hither, to punish him for his lewdness, and his insolent
conduct towards me; and to prevent other men from attempting the like actions for the

But this crime calls for a more severe punishment, as he who committed it is of high
rank. Mithridates, who far from being my enemy, was once my guest and my friend,
endeavored to rob me, not of any part of my estate, but of what I prize beyond body and
soul, even of my darling wife. This very man ought to have aided me, had any other
person offered such an insult; is not for my sake, at last out of reverence to thee, (my
Liege!) Thou hast entrusted him with the government of a mighty province; of which he
has proved himself unworthy; and thereby betrays, and even reflects dishonor on those
who reposed such confidence in him.

I am not ignorant of the solicitations, the power, and pomp, of which Mithridates avails
himself on occasion of the present process. I know that I am not upon an equal footing,
with him, in those respects: I yet rely, (O mighty Prince!) on thy justice; on the sacred ties
of marriage; and on the laws which thou dost administer impartially to all; shouldest thou
dismiss Mithridates, it were much better that he had never been summoned hither; as
otherwise all men would have concluded, that injuries and insults could never escape
punishment, when brought before before thy tribunal. But on the should Mithridates, after
being judged by thee, be suffered to depart with impunity; thou wilt hence forward be

My cause is clear and concise. I am husband to Kallirhoe, and she has made me a father. I
married her, not when a virgin, but the widow of a certain Chaireas, who died some time
since; and whose Mausoleum is now, landing in our country. Mithridates being in
Miletus, and my guest; and having by that means an opportunity of seeing, pursuant to
the laws of hospitality, my wife; he did not behave afterwards as became a friend, a
modest, or a worthy man; nor as thou requires those to do, to whom thou dost entrust the
government of thy cities: He, on the contrary, acting with great insolence and tyranny.
Being afterwards fully convinced of Kallirhoe's strict virtue, and her great love for me,
her husband; and thence doubting whether it would be possible for him to win her, either
by persuasions or by rich gifts; he (a most crafty man!) had recourse to wonderful
artifices, as he imagined them to be.

Mithridates pretended that Chaireas, her first husband, is still living; and having forged a
letter, to my wife, in his name, he sent it to her by his servants. Thy fortune (mighty
Monarch!) succored me who, (I trust) am not unworthy of thy countenance; and, by the
providence of the gods, this letter was discovered: for Bias, Praetor of Priene, sent it me,
with the servants who had it in charge. Having thus detected Mithridates, I informed
Pharnaces, governor of Lydia and Ionia, of this matter when he acquainted thee (O
Prince!) with the same. I have here set forth the whole fact, of which thou art to judge.

The proofs are incontestable; for either Chaireas must be proved to be still living: or
Mithridates must be convicted as an adulterer. He cannot say, that he is ignorant of
Chaireas's death; as we have raised a monument, to his memory, in Miletus. Mithridates
himself was there, and accompanied the funeral procession. But whenever he wants to
seduce another man's wife, he can easily raise the dead. I will now only mention the letter
which he dispatched, by his servants, from Caria to Miletus.

Do thou (secretary!) read it: Chaireas, am still living. Let Mithridates prove this, and
then be set at liberty. Reflect (O my Liege!) how audacious that man must be, who dares
to invent a falsity, even with regard to a person deceased.— These words, pronounced by
Dionysos, firing the whole assembly, every voice was instantly in his favor: when the
king, inflamed flamed with anger, darted a fierce and menacing look at Mithridates.


AND now Mithridates, being no ways dismayed, replied: I beseech thee (O my king!) as
thou art just and merciful, not to condemn me unheard: nor to permit calumny to triumph
over truth; by thy giving credit to the malicious fiction which a worthless Greek has
artfully invented concerning me. I am sensible, that the exquisite beauty of Kallirhoe,
may naturally raise a suspicion of me; as it does not seem unlikely, but that an attempt
may have been made to seduce her. My past life has been chaste and temperate; and I was
never exposed, till now, to the darts of slander. Besides, had I been of a lascivious and
abandoned disposition, your entrusting me with the government of so many cities, must
have reformed me. What man could be so void of sense, as to lose so many precious
advantages, merely for the sake of indulging in one pleasure, and that of the brutal kind?

Had I been conscious to my self of the least guilt, I might have lawfully objected to the
concerning myself with this trial. For Dionysos does not charge me with endeavoring to
seduce a woman whom he had lawfully married; but one who had been exposed to sale,
and purchased by him. Now slaves are not comprehended in the laws relating to adultery.
Let him first read to thee the instrument of manumission, and speak of the marriage
afterwards. And darest thou to call this woman thy wife whom didst buy for a talent, of
Theron the pirate, after he had stole her from the sepulcher?

But thou wilt say thus: She was free when I bought her. In that case thou be a woman-
dealer, rather than a husband. Nevertheless, I will now prove my innocence, as though
thou wert really one.

Suppose, for a moment, that the purchase was as the marriage, and the price, (a talent) as
the dower; and let her, though born in Syracuse, be considered as a Milesian: I yet would
have thee (my Liege!) to know, that I have not injured Dionysos, either as a husband or as
a master. In the first place, he accuses me of an adulterous act not yet committed, but
intended: and not being able to prove the fact, he produces a vain letter that proves
nothing. Now the laws punish facts. Shouldest thou bring forth the letter; I then could
justly affirm that it did not come from me. Thou hast not my handwriting. Chaireas is in
search of Kallirhoe. Charge him with adultery. Yes, (sayest thou) but Chaireas is dead;
and thou wouldest seduce my wife under his name.—

O Dionysos: Thou hast made me a challenge, which will no ways turn to thy advantage. I
conjure thee, as thy friend and thy guest, to withdraw the charge. Beseech the king to stop
all proceedings. Recant all thy injurious expressions; and say thus: Mithridates is
innocent, and I accused him without foundation. But shouldest thou persist in thy
obstinacy, thou wilt repent it, and pronounce sentence against thyself. I foretell thee, thou
wilt lose Kallirhoe, and the king will find thee, and not me, to be the adulterer.

Here Mithridates stopped: when the eyes of the whole assembly were turned to Dionysos;
they being anxious to know, whether, as it was left to his option, he would withdraw the
accusation, or strongly persist in it: for they were strangers to what Mithridates had
hinted at obscurely; but imagined that Dionysos understood his meaning perfectly.

Now the latter, who did not know, nor could in the least suspect, that Chaireas was still
living, cried thus: Say what thou wilt; Thou malt not impose upon me, either by sophistry
or by specious threats; nor shall it ever be proved, that Dionysos is a false accuser.

Here Mithridates, raising his voice, like as when the priest, full of the god, is going to
offer up sacrifice, uttered these words: Ye regal, celestial and infernal deities! O! succor a
virtuous man, who, with pure hands, has frequently addressed his vows to you; and
offered up the most splendid sacrifices in your honor: Do ye, as a reward for my piety,
wipe off each provoking, each slanderous aspersion. O! lend me Chaireas, at least for this
trial. Appear, thou excellent shade! Thy Kallirhoe calls thee. Stand, stand between
Dionysos and me: and tell the king, which of us two is the adulterer!


MITHRIDATES had scarce ended, when, as had been concerted, Chaireas himself came
forth. Kallirhoe, at the sight of him, cried out: -- And dost thou live, my Chaireas?

She was flying to him, when Dionysos, rushing in between, prevented their mutual
embraces. Now who could represent, in due colors, the face of this assembly? What poet
ever brought, upon the stage, so uncommon, so marvelous an incident? Those present
might imagine they beheld a theatre, where a thousand opposite passions, all the impulses
of the soul, were visible; such as joy, cries, astonishment, pity, distrust and desire. They
proclaimed Chaireas blessed; they congratulated Mithridates; they pitied Dionysos but,
with regard to Kallirhoe, they were in doubt what to say, or how to act; because she,
being all amazement and struck dumb, fixed her ardent eyes on Chaireas only. It is my
opinion, that the king himself would gladly have been Chaireas.

Rivals are ever ready to wrangle with one another; and the pretence of the enchanting
prize heightened the interesting contention; insomuch that they would certainly have
sought, had not the reverence, for their sovereign, restrained them. However, their quarrel
went no farther than words; when the following dialogue ensued in the following
dialogue; and may be easily distinguished, by the words they are supposed to utter

Chaireas: I am the first husband.

Dionysos: But I am more constant, I never drove away my wife; whereas thou didst
bury her.
Chaireas: Show me the instrument of divorce.
Dionysos: Seest thou the sepulcher?—
Chaireas: Kallirhoe's father disposed of her, to me, in marriage.--
Dionysos: But she gave herself to me.—
Chaireas: Thou art unworthy the daughter of Hermocrates. ———
Dionysos: Thou art still more so, thou shackled slave of Mithridates!
Chaireas: I am come to demand Kallirhoe.—
Dionysos: But I possess her.—
Chaireas: Thou withholdest another man's wife.———
Dionysos: Thou didst kill thine.
Chaireas: Thou adulterer!
Dionysos: Thou murderer!

Thus did they contend with, and reproach each other. In the mean time Kallirhoe, with
downcast eyes, shed a flood of tears; she loving Chaireas to the soul, yet blushing on
account of Dionysos.

The king then having commanded the contending parties to withdraw, he began to
deliberate with his friends, not on Mithridates, who had made so noble a defense; but
whether it would become him, to pronounce definitively, which of the two husbands had
a right to Kallirhoe. Some were of opinion, that it would be beneath the king to take
cognizance of such a suit.— Thou hast heard very justly (said they) the charge brought by
Mithridates, he being a governor; but the other two are private persons. ——

Nevertheless, most thought differently, both on account of Kallirhoe's father

Hermocrates, who had formerly been of some service to the royal family: and because the
king would not, on this occasion, judge a new cause; but one, part of which he had
already heard. However, none of them cared to discover the true motive of the advice
they gave, which was, that they could not bear to be deprived of the sight of Kallirhoe.

The king having sent for those whom he, a little before, had commanded to leave the
court, spake thus: I now acquit Mithridates, who may set out for his government
tomorrow, after having received the usual presents. As to Chaireas and Dionysos, they
may lay, before me, their respective claims to the woman; for I ought to protect the
daughter of that Hermocrates who, in a naval engagement, vanquished the Athenians, the
most hateful, the most troublesome enemies to me and to Persia.

Artaxerxes having pronounced this sentence, Mithridates paid his adoration; but the other
parties were greatly surprised and exasperated, and knew not what to do which the king
perceiving,— I shall not (said he) hasten ye; but on the contrary, will allow ye five days
to prepare for the trial; and, when ye are ready, return hither.
In the meantime, Statira, my consort, shall take care of Kallirhoe: it not being just that a
woman, the possession of whom is contested by two husbands, should be brought into
court by either of them. The assembly then broke up, with sorrow and dissatisfaction in
their countenances, Mithridates excepted, who was all joy; and who, after receiving the
royal gifts, stayed that night in Babylon; and next morning set out for Caria, with greater
splendor than before.


The eunuchs to whom Kallirhoe was delivered, conducted her to the queen, without first
informing her of their coming; the king never sending previous notice, on any occasion
whatsoever. Statira, at the sudden appearance of Kallirhoe, started from her bed;
imagining that she saw Venus; a goddess to whom she paid peculiar worship.
Immediately, Kallirhoe prostrated herself before the queen, whose error and surprise
being perceived by the eunuch: This (said he) is Kallirhoe. The king has sent her hither,
in order that she may be under thine eye, till the day of trial.

Statira heard this with pleasure; when suppressing all female envy, she showed greater
kindness to Kallirhoe, on account of the honor which Artaxerxes had done her in giving
so exquisite a beauty to her in charge. The queen indeed was charmed with Kallirhoe,
when taking her by the hand: My dear woman (said she) be comforted, and dry thy tears:
Artaxerxes is the most benevolent, the moist gracious of princes. Thou shalt possess that
husband who is nearest to thy heart; and, when the trial is over, thy nuptials shall be
solemnized with greater magnificence than before. Go now and rest thyself; as I perceive
that thou art much fatigued, and thy mind vastly uneasy.

Kallirhoe was glad to hear these words, She wishing much for repose. When she was put
to bed, and every one retired, laying her hands on her eyes: And have ye really, (said she),
beheld Chaireas? Was it my own Chaireas? or was it an illusion?

Perhaps Mithridates, in order to favor his suit, called up this phantom at the trial; for it is
said, that there are magicians in Persia. But then it spoke. It related every particular, as
though it had been an intelligent being. Yet how could he refrain from embracing me? We
even separated without a kiss. While Kallirhoe was ruminating on these things, slue heard
the sound of feet, and female voices; for all the women flocked to the queen; imagining
that they might be indulged the full liberty of gazing on Kallirhoe.

But Statira said: We must not disturb her: she is not well: there will be days enough for us
to see, to hear, and to converse with her. Yet all went away greatly dissatisfied, but
returned on the morrow; and crowded, in this manner, daily; so that the palace was much
more frequented than before. The king himself came over to the apartments of the
women, upon pretence of visiting Statira. Many rich gifts were sent to Kallirhoe, but she
constantly refused them all; she still appearing in the garb of an unfortunate woman;
being clad in mourning; unadorned; and sitting on the ground; notwithstanding which she
appeared still more beautiful.

Being asked by the king, which of her husbands she would prefer; she made no answer,
but burst into tears, Such was Kallirhoe's situation, while Dionysos strove to bear his
misfortunes like a man; he being endued with uncommon fortitude of soul, and devoting
himself to the study of moral philosophy. But so great, so unusual, so unexpected a woe,
as that he labored under, might easily have overpowered the strongest brain. His love was
far more violent, than when he lived in Miletus; as, in the infancy of his passion, beauty
only had attracted him; but now he was inflamed still more from many other causes; such
as familiarity and cohabitation with Kallirhoe: Affection for the fond pledge she had
brought him; his fear left she should prove ungrateful, and forsake him for another:
Jealousy; and, above all, the extraordinary circumstances with which this incident was


DIONYSOS would often cry out on a sudden: Who is this Protesilaus returned again, at
this time, to life. What infernal deity can I have offended, that I thus find a rival in one
deceased, whose sepulcher stands on my land? Thou (O Venus!) hast laid snares for me,
though I consecrated thee in various parts of my estate, and offered tip a multitude of
sacrifices in thine honor. Wherefore didst thou show me Kallirhoe, Is our union was not
to be lasting? Why make him a father, who is not a husband?— Then clasping his son,
and shedding a flood of tears:—— Ah! hapless infant, (cried he), thy birth seemed
auspicious, but thou now art a burden to me; a sad inheritance left me by thy mother; a
monument of an ill-fated passion. Thou, though a child, yet art not altogether insensible
of thy father's sufferings.

We set out, with an evil omen, on our journey; and should not have left Miletus. Babylon
has been our ruin. I lost my cause in the first hearing, when Mithridates was my accuser;
and my chief fear arises from the second, for there surely is not less danger in it; and I
entertain no hopes from, the beginning of the trial. My wife has been torn from me,
though I am yet unsentenced; and I now contend, in great peril, with another man for the
possession of her; and, what is still more aggravating, I know not on which of the two her
choice may fall. But thou (my darling child!) mayst learn it from her, as she is thy
mother. Go then, and supplicate her for thy father. Weep; kiss her; and say: Dearest
mother! My father loves thee. But take care that thou employ not any injurious or
reproachful depressions. But (Pedagogue!) why do I talk thus wildly? No one will permit
us to enter the palace. O barbarous tyranny! to shut out a son who carries, from his father,
a most tender message to his other parent. In this manner did Dionysos pass his time, till
the day of trial; he acting as judge in this contest between love and reason; and resolving
to bestow the palm on the victor.

On the other hand, Chaireas, oppressed with cries, was quite inconsolable: when feigning
himself sick, he ordered Polycharmus to accompany Mithridates, their common
benefactor, who was setting out.

Being now left alone, he fixed a halter, when springing forward, in order to perpetrate a
horrid deed, he spake thus: I should have quitted life with less reluctance in Curia, when
being a slave, I was there fastened to the Cross, oh a false accusation: for then I should
have died in the sweet delusion that Kallirhoe still loved me; whereas I now shall not
only lose my life, but also the consolation I must otherwise have found in death.
Kallirhoe saw me, and yet did not come forward.

She did not kiss me; but showed, in my presence, a regard for another man. However, she
shall behave so no more, I will anticipate the sentence, and not wait for an inglorious end.
Poor and inconsiderable as I am; a foreigner, and quite unknown, I must necessarily be an
unequal competitor with Dionysos. Yet mayest thou live happy (O my wife!) for wife I
still call thee, though thou lovest another man. I still now depart, for ever! and not
interrupt thy conjugal felicity. May riches surround thee! Mayest thou luxuriate in
delights! and long, long enjoy the splendors of Ionia. Possess then the husband who is
dear to thee. The last boon, which the dying Chaireas has to request is, that thou, when I
shall be no more, mayest approach my corpse; and shed, if possible, a tear over it. I shall
prize this more than immortality.

Reclining on the pillar of my sepulcher, pronounce, at least, the following words; even
though thy husband, even though thy infant, should see thee: -- Thou now, (O Chaireas!)
art really gone; thou now art dead. Hadst thou lived, and the king sat as judge, I then
would have made choice of thee for my husband. I shall hear thy voice (O wife!) and,
perhaps, believe thee; and, by thy means, I may acquire authority, and appear glorious in
the eyes of the infernal deities:

Altho’ the dead, when rafted to the realms

Of Pluto, lose their mem’ries; yet I'll there
Recall to mine, my joy! my soul! my wife!
Thus bemoaning himself, he kissed the rope, crying out: Thou art my consolation. Thou
my patron! By thee I shall triumph over every woe; thou lovest me more than Kallirhoe.
Then springing forward to the halter, and fixing it round his neck, Polycharmus entered
on a sudden; and withheld held him, as a man out of his senses; and on whom neither
soothing words, nor good counsel, had the least effect. And now the day appointed for the
trial was at hand.




AS the king was to pronounce the day following, whether Chaireas or Dionysos should
be the husband of Kallirhoe, all Babylon was in suspense; every one saying, both at home
and in the streets.

Tomorrow will be the nuptials of Kallirhoe. Which of the two will, at last, become the
fortunate man? Now the city was divided into two parties. Those who favored Chaireas,
said: He is the first husband: he married Kallirhoe, when a virgin; loving her, and being
beloved. He received Kallirhoe from her father. She was buried by her country. He did
not forsake his wife, nor she abandon him. Dionysos neither bought nor espoused
Kallirhoe. Robbers sold her; but it is not lawful to purchase a free-born woman.

On the other hand, the advocates for Dionysos spake thus: He rescued Kallirhoe from
pirates, when exposed to their murdering daggers; and gave a talent for her redemption.
He first saved, and then took her to his bed.

Chaireas, after marrying Kallirhoe, killed her. She cannot have forgot her nuptials. One
strong argument that is apparent to all men, and which must secure the victory to
Dionysos, is, her having borne him a son, who is still living. Thus reasoned, among.
themselves, the men. As to the women, they not-only addressed Kallirhoe with the mod
animating exhortations; but also gave her advice, as though she had been present,——
Do not quit (said they) the husband who espoused thee, when a virgin. Take thy first
lover, thy fellow citizen. Thus mayest thou again behold thy father: otherwise thou wilt
live, as an exile, in a foreign land.
Others said: Preserve thy deliverer; he who saved, and did not assassinate thee. Should
Chaireas be fired anew with rage, thou then wouldest be again consigned to the tomb. Do
not betray thy son, but honor his father, Such was the general discourse, throughout
Babylon, which appeared as one court of judicature.

It was now the night which preceded the day of trial, when the king and queen revolved,
as they lay in bed, reflections of a very different nature. The queen wished earnestly for
morning, in order to get rid of Kallirhoe, who was now a kind of burden to her; as the
exquisite beauty of this Greek, gave rise to companions no ways advantageous to the
queen, when both were seen together. Further, the frequent visits paid by the king, and his
great courtesy at unusual hours, raised the queen's suspicion; as he, till then, had been
rarely seen in the apartment of the women: but ever since Kallirhoe's residence in the
palace, he was running to them perpetually. She also observed, that while the king was
conversing familiarly with Kallirhoe, he would frequently ogle her; and dart secret
glances, which were directed to her from an involuntary impulse.

For these reasons, Statira was overjoyed at the near approach of the day of trial: while far
different thoughts employed the king; he not sleeping a wink all that night, but

Now turning on his side, new lying prone.

Perplexed with a variety of thoughts, he was continually saying to himself: The day of
trial is near; and I was too precipitate in not fixing it later. What must be done tomorrow
morning? Kallirhoe will certainly return, either to Miletus or to Syracuse. There now
remains a very short space of time; a span, for me to feast on an enchanting object; after
which, my servant will be happier than I. Consider, (O my soul!) what is to be done. Be
ever present and prepared. No one spreads snares against thee but thyself. Cupid is now
the beguiler of love.

First then answer these questions to thine own heart: -- Who art thou? The lover of
Kallirhoe, or her judge? But impose not on thy self. Thou art deeply smitten, though thou
knowest it not. On this thou wilt be sooner convinced, by not employing force against
her. Why then thus torment thyself? Phoebus, from whom thou art descended, chose and
allotted, for thee, a creature the most lovely, the most perfect, his eye ever beheld: and yet
thou dost reject the gift of this god. Thou art anxious for thy mean slaves, Chaireas and
Dionysos; at a time that thou art to decide, which of them shall conquer in this trial, and
be the husband of Kallirhoe. I, the mighty king, am acting the part of an antiquated
Pander. But then I have undertaken to judge this cause, and the whole world, knows it.
But my greatest uneasiness, on this occasion, arises from Statira. Do thou therefore
neither divulge thy passion, nor put an end to the trial. It will be enough for thee to gaze
upon Kallirhoe. Postpone therefore the decision, since a Plebeian judge might do this.

AS soon as it was daylight, the officers prepared the royal hall, when vast multitudes
flocked to the palace. All Babylon was in motion; and, as in the Olympic games, the
champions went to the field of exercise, followed by a long train; our two rivals were
escorted in like manner. Dionysos was accompanied by Persians of rank; while Chaireas
was attended by the populace. Ten thousand voices and joyful acclamations were heard,
of those who favored the respective parties, and wished them success; crying:—Justice is
on thy side. It is thou wilt conquer.

The prize, on this signal occasion, was not an olive leaf, nor apples, nor the branch of a
pine-tree; but the first beauty in the world, for whom the gods themselves might justly
have contended. Now the king, having called for the eunuch Artaxates his chief favorite,
spake thus to him: The celestial Deities having appeared to me on a sudden, in a dream,
and required victims; I therefore must acquit myself of the duty which, piety, towards
them, demands. Be then all Asia enjoined to celebrate a solemn festival, during thirty
days; and let every kind of business, all law proceedings, be suspended during that time.
Artaxates published the royal ordinance; when immediately the city was crowded with
multitudes, crowned with chaplets, and offering up sacrifices. Naught was heard but the
warbling of flutes, and the sound of rural pipes, intermixed with voices. Incense was
burnt in the courts before each house, and banquets were seen in every street.

Turn’d to thick smoke, the fragrance of the offerings

To skies ascended.

The king presented splendid victims at that altar. He then sacrificed, for the first time, to
the god of love, among other deities; and frequently addressed Venus, beseeching that
goddess to intercede powerfully, with her son, in his favor.

Amid this general joy, three persons only were in the deepest affliction; Kallirhoe,
Dionysos; and, more than either, Chaireas. Kallirhoe could not show her cries, as she was
in the palace; but then she groaned bitterly in secret, and vented dreadful imprecations
against the festival. But Dionysos called for curses upon himself, for his having left
Miletus:—Wretch that thou art, (cried he) submit patiently to evils which thou hast
brought upon thyself! Thou mightest have protected Kallirhoe, even though Chaireas had
been living: Thou wast the master in Miletus; and not a letter could have been delivered,
to Kallirhoe, without thy consent. Who could have seen; who could have come near her?
Thou now hast thrown thyself, spontaneously, into the midst of thine enemies; and would
it were thyself only, and not the object who is dearer to thee than thy soul! Hence art thou
furiously attacked on every side. What sayest thou (Madman!) Chaireas is thy adversary,
and thy sovereign is become thy rival. The king now sees visions; and the gods demand
of him those victims which he sacrifices to them daily. Shameful conduct for a man, who
has the wife of another in his house, to protract a trial, and yet set up for a judge.

Thus did Dionysos lament his wretched fate: during which Chaireas, refusing the least
sustenance, and being resolved to give up life; he thus addressed his friend Polycharmus,
who would not permit him to die of hunger.— Thou, under the semblance of a friend, art
my greatest enemy; because thou dost keep me in torments, and art delighted with my
pains. Wert thou my friend, thou would not envy my attempt, to free myself from the
cruel tyranny under which, by the malevolence of I know not what deity, I so shamefully
groan. How often might I have been blessed, had it not been for thee? Thrice happy were
my lot, had I been buried in Syracuse with Kallirhoe! But when I wished earnestly to die,
thou didst withhold my hand; and thereby deprive me of the sweetest companion to the
shades below.

Perhaps she would not have left the sepulcher, nor have abandoned me, though dead. And
had she quitted me, I now should be lying peaceably in the grave; and thereby have
avoided slavery; the band of pirates; chains; and, what is still more grievous, to me, than
even crucifixion, the king. Death would have been welcome to me, for then I should not
have heard of the second nuptials of Kallirhoe. And, since the opening of the trial, should
I not have left the world, hadst thou not prevented me? I saw Kallirhoe, but could not
approach, nor kiss her. O unparalleled and incredible incident! It is disputed in a court of
justice, whether Chaireas is, or is not, the husband of Kallirhoe. But envious fate will not
permit this trial, whatever may be the result of it, ever to come to a period. I am hated by
the gods, both sleeping and waking: Chaireas having uttered these words, was going to
rush upon his sword, when Polycharmus stopped his hand; and, holding his fall, thereby
prevented his destroying himself.


THE king having sent for his most faithful eunuch, was at first ashamed to see him: when
Artaxates perceiving his confusion, and the difficulty with which he uttered his words,
said thus Why dost thou (O my liege!) conceal any thing from thy servant, who wishes
thee every felicity, and can faithfully treasure up a secret? What mighty evil can have
befallen thee? Much I fear, that snares are spread for thee.

Very dangerous ones, (replied the Monarch) are preparing; yet not by a mortal, but by a
deity. Who Cupid is, I had already learnt, both from prose-writers, and from poets; and
that all the gods are subject to his empire, and even Jupiter: —But then I doubted,
whether any of them was mightier than myself. But that god is now present; and, with the
strongest impetuosity, has taken possession of my whole heart. It is grievous to confess it;
and yet I must be forced to reveal the truth, which is, that I am the captive of this god.

In uttering these words,. a violent flood of tears burst from him, and stopped his tongue.
And now Artaxates discovered, by the king's sudden silence, who it was that had
wounded him; for his tears were not feigned, and the eunuch had before observed his
rising passion; and indeed it was obvious, and beyond all doubt, that Artaxerxes,
whenever Kallirhoe was present, could not be enamored of any other woman.

Nevertheless the eunuch, pretending ignorance on this occasion, said: What fair-one (O
king!) how charming soever, can have enslaved thee, whom all things beautiful obey? as
gold, silver, rich vestments, horses, cities, nations; and many lovely women; especially
Statira, the most charming of her sex under the sun, and who is enjoyed by thee only.
Thou indeed mayest not now covet her, as possession is apt to take away desire; except
that some goddess should be descended from the sides, or another Thetis risen from the
ocean: for it is my opinion that the Deities would wish for thy converse. Perhaps (said
Artaxerxes) thou hast now spoke the truth, in supposing this woman to be a divinity, for
her beauty is more than human. However, she will not own this, but signs herself a Greek
of Syracuse. Now a circumstance which seems to indicate deceit, is the precaution she
has taken, to prevent her being detested in a falsity; I mean her not mentioning a city
within our empire; but fixing the scene of her story beyond Ionia, and cross a wide-
extended ocean. She is come hither upon pretense of a trial, but the whole is a fiction of
her own invention. I am amazed how thou canst call Statira the most beautiful among
women, when Kallirhoe is present. But I must free myself from this anxiety. Do thou
employ all the powers of thy imagination; and discover, is possible, a remedy for me. My
Liege! (replied Artaxates), the remedy thou seekest is to be met with equally among the
Greeks and Barbarians. The only cure, for thy passion, is to possess the beloved object.
This doubtless is the meaning of the renowned oracle, viz. They who inflict a wound can
also heal it.

The king, ashamed at what he heard, cried: Presume not to advise me to seduce another
man's wife. I well remember the laws which I myself framed, and the justice I exercise on
all occasions. I cannot charge myself with intemperance of any kind; nor am I captivated
to so violent a degree.

Artaxates fearing that he had spoke too inadvertently, turned his discourse to praise, by
saying: My sovereign! generous, and worthy of thy self is thy way of thinking. Apply not
that remedy to love, which is employed by other men; but a more more efficacious, a
princely remedy, I mean, the combating thine own inclinations; for thou, singularly,
mayest vanquish that deity. Devote thy self to pleasures of every kind.
Hunting is thy favorite diversion; I having seen thee pass whole days in that exercise (so
great was thy fondness for it), without eating or drinking. It is better to pursue the chase,
than to stay in the palace by the fireside.


This advice being approved, a royal chase was proclaimed. There then marched forth, on
horseback, soldiers richly habited; with the chief nobles of Persia, and the flower of the
army; the whole making a most magnificent spectacle. But, above all shone the king, he
being mounted on a tall and most beautiful Nisean horse; those bridle, and the several
trappings, were of gold. He was clad in a robe of tyrian purple of Babylonish work. On
his head was a yellow Tiara. A golden scimitar was girded on his thigh. He held two darts
in his hand. By his side hung his bow and quiver, the precious workmanship of China. He
sat his horse with a fierce air. Love is naturally fond of splendor in dress. Artaxerxes was
desirous of being beheld, in the midst of his retinue, by Kallirhoe; and, as he passed
through the city, he gazed on every side, to see whether she did not survey the pompous
procession from some eminence.

Immediately the mountains echoed with the shouts of hunters; the barking of dogs; the
neighing of horses; and the cries of roused wild beasts. Such universal tumult might have
banished love from the breast of any other man; as this sport was very laborious; joy
being intermixed with fear, and pleasure with danger. But as to the king, he did not see a
single horse, though so many horsemen ran before him: nor one wild beast, though such
numbers were chased: nor could he hear the barking of dogs, though such multitudes
were abroad; nor the cries of the people, though such crowds were assembled. He saw
Kallirhoe only, though she was absent, and heard no other voice, though she spake not.

Cupid accompanied him in the chase: and as a deity who is pleased with contention,
seeing his adversary armed against him, and in battle array; and ailing very wisely in his
own conceit; the amorous god turned the monarch's arts upon himself; and, employing
the same remedies, thereby inflamed him the more: and having got possession of the
inward recesses of the king's heart, he whispered it thus: How delightful would it be to
see Kallirhoe here, in a short vest; her arms bare; with a ruddy countenance: out of
breath, and

Like Cynthia, who delights in woods to range;

To climb the mountain; and to hurl the shaft
On Erymanthus or Taygetus top,
'Gainst the tremendous boar, or timid deer.
And thus imaging Kallirhoe to his mind, his passion increased to a violent degree.

[Many lines are wanting here,

supposed to be owing to inadvertency of the copyist,
who, in the hurry of transcribing, omitted some periods.]

Saying these words, Artaxates replied: My Liege! Thou hast forgot what is past. Kallirhoe
has no husband: and the law has not yet determined to whom she shall be delivered:
Reflect then that thou lovest a widow. Fear not the laws, as these relate to marriage; nor
be apprehensive of thy committing adultery; since, in that case, there must first be a
husband who had been injured, and then an adulterer who wronged him.

These words were highly pleasing to the monarch, they soothing his passion; when
throwing his arms round the eunuch's neck, he kissed him, and said: It is with justice that
I esteem thee above all others, as thou barest me the warmest affection, and art my best
overseer. Go therefore and bring Kallirhoe to me, but in the manner I shall command; that
is, privately, and without compulsion; for thou must employ persuasion and artifice.

Instantly the king sounded a retreat, and departed full of joy, imagining that he had made
Kallirhoe his lovely prize. Artaxates was not less delighted, as thinking he was going
upon a noble commission: and that, for the future, he should govern the court entirely;
not doubting but both the king and Kallirhoe would be very willing to promote him, in
reward of this service. But he relied chiefly on Kallirhoe. Artaxates being a eunuch, a
slave, and a Barbarian, thought this an easy task; he not having any idea of the generous
spirit of the Greeks; especially of Kallirhoe's natural modesty, and the extreme love she
bore her husband.


The eunuch, watching a proper opportunity, came to Kallirhoe, when taking her apart: —
Woman, (said he,) I offer thee an invaluable treasure. Thou wilt not forget the signal
service I now do thee; I believing thee to be of a grateful disposition.— Kallirhoe was in
raptures at the opening of this speech; as we naturally expect what we ardently wish.
Thus she did not doubt but that Chaireas would be restored to her instantly. This she
longed to hear; and therefore promised to recompense Anaxates, for bringing such joyful
news. Artaxates, after much circumlocution, went on as follows.

Indulgent nature, (O woman!) has bestowed on thee divine beauty; but this has not
hitherto been of any signal, any mighty advantage. That name, so much renowned
throughout the world, has not yet found a husband or a lover worthy of it; on the contrary,
it fell to the lot of two men, the one a pitiful islander, and the other a vassal of the king.
Has any thing great or splendid accrued to thee by their means? What fruitful lands, what
rich, female ornaments have they brought thee? What cities dost thou govern? What
slaves prostrate themselves at thy feet?

The Babylonish matrons keep servants richer than thee. Yet art thou not totally neglected.
Even the gods are mindful of thee. For this they conducted thee hither, upon pretence of
the trial, in order that the great king might behold thee: and the first joyful news I salute
thee with, is, that he sees thee with delight. I frequently call thee to his remembrance, and
am ever speaking to him in thy praise. These last words not true; it being the custom for
all slaves, whenever they speak to their master concerning any one, to commend
themselves at the same time, imagining that this may turn to their own advantage.

Though these words were as daggers to Kallirhoe's heart, she yet pretended not to
understand them, slaves, but said: May the gods be ever propitious to the king, and the
king to thee; since thou art moved to compassion for an unfortunate woman! I only
implore Artaxerxes, to free me as soon as possible from my anxiety, by finishing the trial;
that I may no longer be an encumbrance to any one, and especially to the queen.

The eunuch thinking that he had not sufficiently expressed his meaning; and that
Kallirhoe did not understand him, spake more plainly, as follows: In one circumstance
thou, (O woman!) art extremely fortunate, which is, that neither slaves nor mean persons
are thy lovers; but the great king, who can bestow on thee Miletus, and all Ionia; together
with Sicily, and other more considerable nations. Sacrifice then to the gods; pronounce
thyself blest; do every thing in thy power, to please the monarch more and more: and
when thou shalt be wealthy, let not Artaxates be forgot.

Kallirhoe would, at first, have gladly torn out the seducer's eyes, had this been possible:
but knowing mankind; and being able to govern her temper; recollecting immediately the
place she was in; who she herself was; and the person who spoke, her rage soon changed
into scorn of this Barbarian. I am not, (said she) so weak as to fancy myself worthy of the
great king; I being no ways superior to the slaves of the Persian ladies: I therefore entreat
thee, most earnestly, never to mention me again to thy sovereign; for though he is not
now displeased with thee, he doubtless will afterwards be exasperated, when he calls to
mind, thy having subjected, to the slave of Dionysos, the master of the world. I am
surprised that thou, being the wisest of men, shouldest be a danger to the king's humanity;
he not loving an unfortunate woman, but pitying her. Let us then break off this discourse,
lest some one should calumniate us to the queen. At these words she ran away swiftly,
leaving the eunuch dumb and spiritless; for he, having been brought up under a
supremely tyrannical government, had supposed that nothing was impossible to the king,
nor even to himself.

Artaxates being now left alone, and not thought worthy of an answer, went away, tortured
by a thousand different passions. He was angry at Kallirhoe; he was vexed on his own
account; and he dreaded his sovereign's displeasure; concluding that Artaxerxes would
not, perhaps, believe that he had talked with Kallirhoe on this subject, though
ineffectually; but, on the contrary, must certainly suppose, that he had betrayed his trust,
purely to oblige the queen. Lastly, he was apprehensive that Kallirhoe would acquaint
Statira with their whole conversation; and that she, exasperated at this, would meditate
some grievous vengeance against him; for his having been, not only the messenger in this
amour, but also the promoter of the king's passion. In the mean time the eunuch revolved,
in his own mind, how he might inform the king of all that had past, without injuring

And now Kallirhoe, being alone, reflected thus: Alas! I presaged all that is come to pass.
O Euphrates! Thou art witness that I foretold I should never cross thy stream again.
Farewell father! Farewell mother! Farewell my native Syracuse! I never shall behold ye
more. Kallirhoe is now really dead at last. I escaped indeed from the sepulcher; but not
even Theron the pirate could take me from hence. O insidious Beauty! Thou art the cause
of all my sufferings. Through thee I was ‘killed’1; through thee was sold; through thee
was married to Dionysos; through thee was forced away to Babylon; and through thee I
appeared at the trial. To how many evils hast thou exposed me? To robbers; to the ocean;
to the sepulcher; to slavery; to the trial; and, far worse than all these, to the king's love.

I will not here speak of his anger, I dreading, still more, the queen's jealousy: a passion
which Chaireas himself, though a Greek, could not conquer. What then may not a
woman, a barbarous mistress, perpetrate? Come then (Kallirhoe!) resolve on some heroic
act, worthy the daughter of Hermocrates. Kill thyself! yet stay a little; for that was merely
a conference, and made through the channel of an eunuch. Should violence be used with
regard to me; then will be the time for me to prove my fidelity to Chaireas, and that in his

And now Artaxates going to the king, concealed from him all that had past; alleging
business in excuse, and the strict eye which the queen kept over Kallirhoe; insomuch that
it was next to impossible to get admittance to her. Thou, (said he) my Liege! didst
command me to keep this affair secret; and that with reason and justice, as thou hast
assumed the venerable character of a judge; and dost study to gain the affection of the
Persians, for which the highest applauses are bestowed on thee universally.
The Greeks wrangle for mere trifles, and are a loquacious people. Now shouldest thou
make the least attempt, they would immediately blazon it to the world: Kallirhoe out of
vanity, for being beloved by a king; Dionysos, and Chaireas, out of jealousy. Besides, it
would not be proper to disgust the queen, whose beauty this trial has heightened. Thus,
out of seeming regard to his sovereign, he threw many obstacles in his way; in order to
divert him, is possible, from this passion; and to free himself from so very difficult a

We may suppose that distraction (as has been observed) made her speak in this manner.


THE eunuch's persuasion was essential at that juncture; but light being come, the king
found himself re-inflamed, when the amorous god thus whispered him:——How
bewitching are Kallirhoe's eyes! How lovely her lips! He then praised her tresses, her
mien, her voice. Next, with what grace she entered the court of justice! and with what
dignity she stood there! how enchanting her speech! How eloquent her silence! Her joy
how sweet. Her tears how beautiful!

Thus did the king pass almost the whole night without sleep; except while he saw, for a
sew moments, Kallirhoe in a dream. And now, waking in the morning, he called to him
the eunuch, and said: Go, and be upon the watch the whole day, for thou doubtless wilt
find means to talk privately with Kallirhoe, though but for a few minutes. Was I inclined
to satiate my desires openly, and to employ force, my satellites would be ready for that
purpose, Artaxates having paid his adoration, promised to obey the royal injunction; no
one being permitted to oppose the king's commands. However, knowing that Kallirhoe
would not give him an opportunity of speaking to her; but, on the contrary, would always
keep near the queen, purposely to prevent his talking with her: to remedy this evil,

Artaxates turned the subject, not to the woman who was watched, but to her keeper.——
Is it please thee, my Liege! (said he) send for Statira, as though thou hadst some secret to
communicate; by which means her absence will give me an opportunity of conversing at
leisure with Kallirhoe.—

Let this be done, (replied the king). Artaxates then waiting on the queen, paid his
adoration, and said: Princess! Thy husband requires thy presence.— Statira prostrated
herself, on hearing the king's name; and rising, flew to him. The eunuch, now finding
Kallirhoe apart from the queen, took the former by the hand, as though he had been a
friend to the Greeks, and of a humane disposition; and drew her from among the crowd of
waiting-women. Kallirhoe, though she understood his meaning; yet followed him pale
and speechless. They being alone, he addressed her in these words:

Didst thou observe how the queen, the instant she heard the name of Artaxerxes, fell
prostrate, and then ran to him? Yet thou, though a slave, canst not bear thine own felicity;
nor art satisfied that he, who could command thy presence, is so gracious; and does thee
so signal an honor, as to invite and entreat thee. However, having a respect for thee, I
would not inform the king of thy folly; but, on the contrary, have promised something in
thy name.

Two paths now lie open before thee. Which of them wilt thou strike into? I will point out
both. Is thou comply with the king's will, thou wilt receive very precious gifts; and obtain
the husband who is the object of thy wishes; for Artaxerxes will not marry thee, but thou
wilt delight him for some time. On the contrary, shouldest thou disobey, hear what they
undergo who are enemies to the king; such only are not permitted to die, when they wish
for death.

Kallirhoe smiling:——This (said she) is not the first time I have suffered evils. I have
been long acquainted with misery. What punishment could the king inflict, more grievous
than that which now tortures me? I have been buried alive, and no prison is so contrasted
as the grave. I was delivered into the hands of robbers, and now endure the greatest of all
evils, being deprived of the sight of my Chaireas.—— These words betrayed her, for the
eunuch, being sharp and subtle, thereby found that (he entertained a passion for some
one; and thereupon, said:- Thou surely must be the most foolish of thy sex, to prefer the
slave of Mithridates to the king.

Kallirhoe, exasperated to hear Chaireas mentioned thus contemptuously, cried:-—Speak,

(O man!) more respectfully: Chaireas is of noble birth, and chief of that city which
withstood the arms of the Athenians, who yet overthrew thy great king at Marathon and at
Salamis.— Having uttered these words, she burst into a flood of tears; when Artaxates
said:—— Thou art the cause of the delay of this trial. To obtain favor from thy judge,
thou must yield to his desires, and thou thereby wilt again possess the husband who is
dear to thee. Chaireas may possibly know nothing of this affair; and, should he be
informed of it, he will not be jealous of one who is so greatly his superior; but, on the
contrary, must esteem thee still more for thy having pleased the king.

The eunuch added these last words; not to soothe Kallirhoe, but because they were his
real sentiments: for all the barbarians behold their monarchs with awe and astonishment;
and consider such as deities revealing themselves to mortals. With regard to Kallirhoe,
she would not have accepted of the nuptials of even Jove himself; nor preferred
immortality to the passing a single day with Chaireas.
Artaxates, finding he could not work upon Kallirhoe: Woman! (said he) I will give thee
leisure to deliberate on these things. In the meantime think seriously, not merely for thine
own sake, but also for that of Chaireas, who certainly is in danger of suffering a most
cruel death; for the king will not bear to see any other preferred to himself in an affair of
love. The eunuch then withdrew; and his last words were as a poniard to Kallirhoe's


BUT fortune gave a sudden turn to all these conferences, and love negotiations and
changing the scene, furnished matter for new incidents. Expresses now brought to
Artaxerxes, that the Egyptians having raised a mighty and most formidable army, were in
open rebellion; and after murdering the governor set over them by the king, had selected
a monarch from among their countrymen; who, having marched through Pelusium, was
making dreadful havoc in Syria and Phoenicia, which they overran; insomuch that the
cities in general were no more able to resist the fury of their arms, than an impetuous
flood or a raging flame.

At this news the king was greatly alarmed. And the Persians were thunder-struck; all the
Babylonians wore sorrowful countenances, and fear distracted their minds. Then the
interpreters of dreams and the soothsayers declared, that the king's vision had foretold
what would come to pass: for as the gods, by demanding victims, showed that danger was
at hand, it denoted victory at the same time. As usual, everything was now said,
everything done, which a sudden, and unexpected war might require; and all Asia was in
confusion. The king then summoned the principal Persians; and as many governors of
different nations as were at court, whom he used to consult on matters of high

The council differed widely in opinion, when debating on the present crisis. But it was
unanimously agreed, that expedition would be necessary; and that not a single day ought
to be lost, and this for two reasons-: First, to prevent the enemy from increasing; and
secondly, to animate their friends, by showing them that succor was nigh. It was added,
that delay would produce the contrary of this, since their enemies would then despise
them as cowards; and their friends submit, finding themselves neglected. That it was
extremely fortunate for the king, that this advice had been brought him, not in Bastria nor
in Ecbatana, but in Babylon, near to Syria; because, had he crossed the Euphrates, the
rebels would have been immediately upon him.
It was therefore judged expedient, to order all the troops near at hand to march forth; and
to issue a proclamation commanding all the forces, wheresoever dispersed, to assemble
on the banks of the Euphrates. The Persians can, with the greatest ease, raise an army;
Cyrus, their their first monarch, having promulgated an ordinance, settling, which nations
should furnish the cavalry, and what number; which people the infantry, and how many;
which the bowmen and their number; which should send chariots armed with scythes, or
unarmed; from what region the elephants were to come, and how many: likewise the
other articles, each country, respectively, was to contribute. Now all these contingents
could be provided, by the various nations, in as short a time as a single man can sit out


The fifth day after the arrival of the news, the king marched from Babylon, followed by
those who were of age to bear arms; all such being ordered to attend. Among them came
Dionysos, who was an Ionian; for no subject: or dependent was permitted to stay behind..
Being clad in rich and beautiful armor, and his attendants forming a considerable band;
he took post among the first and most illustrious personages. Dionysos seemed to
meditate some great exploit, he being naturally ambitious, and entertaining the highest
idea of valor, he thought it one of the noblest virtues. He likewise had some faint hopes,
that could he make himself of use in this war, he then might escape the lawsuit; and
receive Kallirhoe from the king, as a recompense for his bravery.

The queen would not take Kallirhoe with her, and therefore did not not once mention her
to the king; nor ask him how the foreigner should be disposed of. Artaxates was also
silent on this head; he not daring, as his sovereign was in so much danger, to remind him
of an amour. The truth was, he would gladly have got rid of Kallirhoe, as of a wild beast;
and it is my opinion, that he was pleased with the war, since it might cure the king of a
passion which indolence had begun and fermented.

But Artaxerxes did not forget Kallirhoe; he, even amid the inexpressible tumult and
confusion, recalling her beauty to his memory. And yet he was not willing to say what
should be done with her, lest he might betray a childish weakness; by having mentioned a
beautiful woman, in the beginning of so mighty a war. However the king, urged by the
violence of his flame, thought of the following artifice, but unknown either to Statira or
to the eunuch; though the latter knew of his passion.

It is customary for the king, and the chief men among the Persians, when they go to war,
to take with them their wives and children; their gold, silver, and apparel; their eunuchs,
concubines, and tables; as likewise their precious furniture, and all their instruments of
luxury. The king then sent for (he superintendant over all these matters; and after much
discourse with him, and giving orders with respect to every particular article; he at last
mentioned Kallirhoe, when assuming an air of indifference, as though he had not the least
regard for her: Let that poor, foreign creature, (said the monarch) whose cause I have
undertaken to hear, follow the other women.

Thus did Kallirhoe leave Babylon, and very willingly, as she hoped that Chaireas would
quit it also. She calling to mind, that the event of war is uncertain; that vicissitudes are
often of advantage to the unhappy; and that possibly a period would be put to the trial, by
the speedy conclusion of a peace,




HYEREAS was not summoned to the field, while all the rest marched forth, with the king
at their head, against the Egyptians. Chaireas not being a subject of the only freeman then
in Babylon; a circumstance which filled him with joy, as he had flattered himself that
Kallirhoe would continue there likewise: He thereupon went next day to the palace to
enquire for his wife; but finding it shut, and a strong guard at the gates, he ran all over the
city in search of her; and was incessantly calling out to his friend Polycharmus, like one
distracted: -- Where is Kallirhoe?

What is become of her? She surely cannot be gone with the army! But not finding her, he
flew to the house of his rival Dionysos, whence a person came out in a seeming hurry;
who told Chaireas whatever he had been taught to say. For Dionysos being resolved to
deprive Chaireas of all hopes of ever recovering his wife; and desirous that he should
depart before the trial was ended, had had therefore thought of the following stratagem.
At his setting out for the war, he left a person to inform Chaireas: -- That the king of
Persia, being in want of allies, had sent Dionysos to raise forces against the Egyptians;
and, to induce him to serve with fidelity and dispatch, had restored to him Kallirhoe.

Chaireas immediately gave credit to what he heard, the unfortunate being very easily
imposed upon. And now tearing his clothes and his hair, and smiting his breast, he thus
cried: O faithless Babylon! O abominable receptacle! and quite a desert with regard to
me! Most admirable judge, thus a pander to another man's wife! Nuptials in the midst of
war! I was meditating and preparing my cause; and am sully persuaded that I should have
pleaded it with truth and eloquence. But I now am condemned though absent; and
Dionysos, who has fled from the trial, is victor without having uttered a single word. He
yet shall not enjoy his conquest; for Kallirhoe will not bear to live, thus severed from her
Chaireas, who is still living, and here present. He deceived Kallirhoe at first, by making
her believe that I was dead. Why then do I not murder myself before the palace; and pour
forth my blood at the gates of my judge? Let the Persians and Medes know the injustice
of the king's decision.

Polycharmus -- finding that no words, no arguments could divert Chaireas from his sad
resolution; and that it would be impossible to save him, spake thus: There was a time (my
dearest friend!) when soft language from me, could give thee consolation; and such has
often prevented thy destroying thyself: but I now think thou doll determine most wisely;
and, so far from being an obstacle on this occasion, I rather am prepared to die with thee.
Let us then consider which is the noblest kind of death; for that mentioned by thee,
though it might call an odium on the king, and disgrace him with posterity; yet would it
not be a revenge adequate to the evils we have suffered. I therefore am of opinion, that
the death, to which we must one day submit, ought to be employed in taking vengeance
on the tyrant. How glorious will it be, after our having made a mighty (laughter of the
troops of our foe; and done him every other mischief, to force him to repent?

How much will it redound to our glory, when it shall be related in history, that two
Greeks, who had been wronged by an unjust sentence of the great king; afterwards
revenged their injuries, and died as became brave men?

But how (resumed Chaireas,) will it be possible for us, indigent and banished men, singly
to annoy a prince, matter of so many and such powerful nations; and commander over
such mighty armies, as we ourselves saw; a prince protected and surrounded by so vast a
number of sentinels and body-guards? and though we should happen, at last, to kill one of
these, or bum one of his palaces; he yet would not feel the loss.

Thy arguments, (replied Polycharmus) were just, was not this a time of war: But now
advice is brought that Egypt has taken up arms; that Phoenicia is conquered, and Syria is
overrun, and that the king will be attacked even before he crosses the Euphrates: We
therefore are not alone; but have, in our aid, as many companions; as great a quantity of
arms; as numerous sources, and as many ships, as the Egyptian now possesses, Let us
then make use of his troops to revenge our wrongs. Polycharmus had not ended, when
Chaireas cried aloud: Away to the army! I will take justice on my judge in the field.

THEY then set out with amazing speed after the king, as is it had been their intention to
join him; they hoping, upon that pretence, to have an opportunity of safely crossing the
Euphrates. They got up with the army upon the banks of that river; when mixing with
those who had the care of the birds1, they went forward; but on their arrival in Syria,
deserted to the Egyptian. They then were seized by the sentinels, who examined them
strictly; for as they had not the appearance of ambassadors, they were looked upon rather
as spies: and would certainly have been exposed to imminent danger, had not a Greek,
who was there by accident, understood their language. They then desired to be conducted
to the king, as having something to offer which would be of great service to him.

Being introduced, Chaireas said:—We are Greeks, and Patricians of Syracuse. My friend
here came to Babylon purely out of affection to me; and I to seek my wife, daughter to
Hermocrates; if thou hast ever heard of Hermocrates the Praetor, who defeated the
Athenians in a naval engagement. The Egyptian said, that he was not a stranger to this
victory; and indeed every nation had heard of the calamities, which the Athenians
suffered, during the Sicilian-war. Chaireas added: The tyrant Artaxerxes has exercised the
greatest cruelty over us: Saying which, they related every particular. We therefore
(continued Chaireas) spontaneously devote ourselves to thee, as thy most faithful friends;
we being inspired with courage from two very strong motives; a desire of death, and a
thirst of vengeance; for as to my own sufferings, I would have left the world long since
and I now live only to annoy my so.

I’ll not inglorious die, nor coward like;

But some high deed achieve, which shall descend
To latest times, and give me deathless fame.

The Egyptian was delighted with these words, when stretching forth his hand: -- Thou art
come, O young man! (said he) at a happy juncture both for thyself, and for me. He then
instantly gave orders that each should be provided with arms and a tent. Not long after, he
made Chaireas his guest, and at least his counselor; as he perceived, in him, great
prudence, fortitude, and fidelity; for Chaireas was naturally of a good disposition, and
had been liberally educated. But above all, his contest with the king fired him, and
rendered him still more conspicuous; as likewise his ardent desire to prove himself a man
was not to be despised, nor ill treated with impunity; but, on the contrary, deserved every

Accordingly, Chaireas soon performed a mighty exploit. The Egyptians had hitherto
succeeded with little difficulty on all occasions; they, after the incursion, having
possessed themselves of every part of Syria; and seized on all Phoenicia, Tyre excepted.
The Tyrians are naturally valiant, and ambitious acquiring glory in order not to appear
unworthy of Hercules who is held, by them, in peculiar veneration; they having dedicated
their city almost to him only. The Tyrians depended likewise on the strength of the place,
for their city was built in the midst of the ocean; and a narrow neck of land joining it to
the continent, it was, by that means, almost an island. This city lay in the form of a ship,
which coming into the harbor puts out its ladder on shore. Thus the Tyrians could easily
repulse an enemy, from what quarter soever he might come: They keeping out the land
army by means of the sea (the harbor being sufficient for that purpose;) and the walls
securing them from the attacks of the gallies or ships; Tyre being surrounded by vastly
strong fortifications, and enclosed by ports as a house.

The Persians, who were a very luxurious people, used to carry (among other articles) a vast number of
birds, or fowls, for their tables.


THUS the Tyrians, as was before observed, were the only people who contemned the
Egyptians; though these had made a conquest of every other country. This exasperating
the Egyptian, he summoned a council of war, to which Chaireas was called, for the first
time; when the former spake thus:— Ye see, my fellow soldiers! (for I cannot call ye
servants), the great straits we are reduced to; we being like a ship which, after long
enjoying a prosperous course, is, on a sudden, buffeted by contrary winds. The obstinacy
of Tyre checks our rapid progress; and we hear that the king is pushing forward.

How then are we to act, as we cannot possess ourselves of Tyre, nor advance without
taking it; since, standing as a mid-wall, it shuts us out of all Asia? I therefore think it
advisable, to retire from hence as speedily as possible, before the Persian army shall have
joined the Tyrians; as we otherwise shall run the hazard, of being taken in an enemy's
country. Now Pelusium is a well fortified city, where we need not fear either the Tyrians,
the Medes, or even the whole world: as the sands, are impassible, and the access to it very
narrow. But the sea is open to us, and the Nile is a friend to the Egyptians.

The king having ended his speech, those round him stood confounded, silent, and with
sorrowful countenances; when Chaireas only dared to express his sentiments thus -- O
king! (said he) for thou art truly a king, and not him of Persia, who of all men is the most
wicked; thou grievest me to hear thee talk of running away in the midst of triumphs. We
shall certainly conquer is the gods are propitious, and be in possession, not only of Tyre,
but of Babylon also. Many obstacles arise in war; yet these should not suddenly sink our
spirits: on the contrary, fortified by hope, we ought to put our hands vigorously to the
work. These very Tyrians who now deride us, will I drag along; and lay them naked, and
in chains, at thy feet. Is thou dost not credit my words, first sacrifice me, and then depart;
for while I have life, never will I share in thy slight. Is thou art firmly determined to go,
leave me, at least, some few men, who may abide of their own accord. Polycharmus and I
are ardently desirous of fighting manfully; and came hither under the auspices of the

All were ashamed not to consent to Chaireas's proposal; when the king admiring his
noble spirit, permitted him to select, out of the whole army, as many men as he might
think proper. Chaireas did not set about the choice rashly, but entering the several tents,
he ordered Polycharmus to do the like; and, in this manner he went through the whole
army, to see is there were any Greeks. On this occasion he found many mercenaries, from
among whom he drew forth only the Spartans, the Corinthians, and the Peloponnesians.
Here he met also with about twenty Sicilians.

Chaireas having then assembled a body of three hundred men, he spake thus: O ye
Greeks! as the king has given me leave to choose, out of his whole army, the slower of it,
I have selected ye: for I myself am a Greek, a Syracusian, and originally from Doris. Ye
therefore must surpass the Barbarians, not only in splendor of birth, but likewise in valor.
Let none of ye then dread the attempt to which I call ye forth; for it will not be sound
above human strength, nor perplexed with difficulties; these these being greater in
imagination, than in execution. As small a number of Greeks withstood Xerxes at
Thermopylae, now the Tyrians are not five million. On the contrary, they are few; very
vain; despisers of their enemies; and strangers to greatness of soul, or wisdom in council.
Let them then know, how vastly superior the Greeks are to the Tyrians. However, I am
not ambitious of being your general; but ready to follow him, among ye, who will choose
to lead the enterprise; and such shall find me obedient; I seeking not my own glory, but
that of my country.

Immediately all cried aloud: Be thou our captain!

Whereupon Chaireas said: Ye have bestowed on me the supreme command: be then

assured, that I will endeavor so to conduct myself, as not to give ye cause to repent of
your kindness, nor of your confidence in choosing me your leader. Ye now, by the favor
of the gods, will all acquire more wealth, and greater honor, than your fellow-soldiers;
your names will be immortal; and all nations will, to latest posterity, celebrate the three
hundred who followed Chaireas, in like manner as the soldiers headed by Miltiades; and
the three hundred who sought under Leonidas.

Chaireas had not done speaking, when all cried aloud: -- Lead on! -- And instantly all
flew to arms.

CHAIREAS having clad them in splendid armor, and furnished them with weapons of
every kind, led them to the royal tent. The king was all astonishment at the sight; and
could not believe them to be the same men; when promising them noble rewards: Of this,
(said Chaireas) we have not the least doubt. In the mean time do thou keep the rest of the
forces under arms; and draw not near Tyre, till we shall have made ourselves matters of
it, and call out to ye, from the walls.— May the Gods grant (said the king) that this come
to pass.— Chaireas now drew up his men close together, in order that they might appear
much fewer in number; when

Shields press'd on shields; while helmets,

Helmets joined;
And men, with men, were formidably link’d.

He then marched them towards Tyre, unseen at first by the enemy. Approaching still
nearer, and being at last spied by the sentinels on the walls; these gave notice to the town,
that a body of men was advancing, but without the least suspicion of their being foes.
Who indeed could surmise, that such a handful of men would have presumed to advance
against a most powerful city, which the whole Egyptian army dared not to believe?

Being by this time come near to the walls, the Tyrians asked who they were, and what
they wanted? Chaireas replied:—We are Grecian mercenaries, who, have not only been
refused our pay by the king of Egypt, but even run the hazard of being destroyed by his
machinations: and we appear here in order to take vengeance, in conjunction with you, of
our common foe.

These words being reported to the people within the walls, the gates were opened; when
the governor coming forth with only a few men; Chaireas first slew him1, and then ran to
the rest, when

His mighty sword spread horrid slaughter round,

And bleeding foes lay groaning on the ground.

They now killed one another, like as when lions fall upon a herd of oxen, whose keeper is
not with them. Instantly the city echoed with shrieks and lamentations; for few could be
eyewitnesses to the prodigious havoc then making, and all were in the utmost confusion;
the rabble poured tumultuously through the gates, in order to see what was doing; and to
this was principally owing the lots of Tyre: for those in the city struggled with all their
might to get out; while such as were out of it, being cut with sabers, and pierced by
spears, made as violent efforts to force in. Meeting thus, and running against one another,
they fell an easy prey to the destructive sword; and such heaps of dead bodies lay before
the gates, that it was not possible to shut them.

In this inexpressible confusion, Chaireas only retained his presence of mind and
judgment; when forcing his way through all opposition, he got within the gates. And now
himself and nine more ascended the walls, whence he called to the Egyptians, who
immediately rushing forward, the city was taken. The Egyptians being thus masters of
Tyre, were all joy and festivity. But Chaireas would neither offer up sacrifices nor put on
a crown; he saying:— To what purpose should I appear with any insignia of victory, is
thou (O Kallirhoe!) dost not see them? Never since our bridal night have I wore a crown;
for shouldest thou be dead, it would be impious in me to rejoice.

On the other hand, shouldest thou be living, how could I mix in feastings without thee,
who, possibly art now surrounded with a thousand evils? During this interval, the king of
Persia, having crossed the Euphrates, marched forward with all possible speed, in order to
fight the enemy. For having received advice that Tyre was taken, he was afraid for Sidon
and all Syria; as he found that the enemy would oppose him with equal numbers. Hence
he thought it most prudent to march without his baggage, or other impediment; as he
should thereby advance much further, and have nothing to check him in his career.

Hereupon selecting the flower of his army, he left, in the place there he then was, all such
men as were not of age to bear arms; as likewise the queen, with the treasures the rich
vestments and royal equipages. Artaxerxes reflecting afterwards, that tumult and
confusion reigned universally, by means of the war; and that this had spread even to the
cities near the Euphrates; he therefore thought it were safest to lodge, in Aradus, every
thing he might now leave behind him.

Chaireas's character seems very unamiable on this cruel occasion: and surely stratagems, of this kind, are
altogether unworthy a creature who would be thought just and rational.


THIS island is thirty furlongs from the continent and in it stands an ancient temple sacred
to Venus. Here the women were free and safe as in their own houses. Kallirhoe spying the
goddess, who stood opposite to her; she at first continued silent then weeping, reproached
Venus with being the cause of her tears; and, at last, thus whispered to herself: Behold me
now in Aradus, a small island, in exchange for the wide-extended Sicily; and without a
single relation or friend.
This surely is enough, O Goddess! How much longer wilt thou persecute me? Is I have
highly offended thee, thou must have chastised me sufficiently. Should my ill-fated
beauty have justly excited envy, consider that it has proved my ruin. I also have felt the
horrors of war, which alone were wanting to complete my sufferings. Babylon, in
comparison of my present evils, has treated me with lenity. There Chaireas was near to
me; but he surely is now no more; for methinks he could not live, after my departure from
that city. But of whom can I enquire what is become of him?

All I here behold are strangers and Barbarians; persons who envy and hate me; or, what is
still worse, who love me. Do thou then (O Goddess!) inform me, whether Chaireas be
still living. Kallirhoe, after saying these words, left the temple, when she met on a sudden
Rhodogune, daughter to Zopyrus and wife to Megabyzus; both men of the highest rank
among the Persians; the first lady of that nation, who went to meet Kallirhoe when she
entered Babylon.1

The Egyptian hearing that Artaxerxes was near, and had made mighty preparations both
by sea and land, sent for Chaireas and spake thus: I have not yet had an opportunity of
rewarding thee, with due honor, for thy first magnanimous exploits. Thou hast put Tyre
into my hands. With regard to the future, let us not lose the conquests which now offer
themselves; and these I will share with thee. Egypt will be a sufficient empire for me, and
Syria shall be thine.

Let us now consider what is to be done, for the war rages both by sea and land. I leave it
to thy option, either to head the army, or the fleet. However, I imagine that the ocean is
more naturally thy element, as the Syracusians defeated the Athenians in a naval
engagement. Thou now must sight against the Persians, who were defeated by the
Athenians. Thou wilt command the Egyptian gallies which are larger, and more in
number, than those of Sicily. Do thou then imitate, in this expedition, the glorious
example set thee by Hermocrates thy father-in-law.

Dangers of every kind (said Chaireas) will be pleasing to me. For thy sake I undertook to
wage war with the king of Persia, whom I mortally hate. Give me only, with the fleet of
gallies, my three hundred men. Take those, (replied the Egyptian) and as many more as
thou mayest want. This was put in execution forthwith, as matters pressed exceedingly.
And now the Egyptian, heading the land forces, marched against the enemy, and Chaireas
was appointed admiral. This first step disheartened infinitely the soldiers, as Chaireas,
their favorite, was not to command them; for, led on by him, they never doubted of
victory. This was in some measure like plucking out an eye from a huge body.
On the contrary, those on board the fleet were inspired with fresh hopes and greater
courage; as they were to be headed by so brave, so excellent a commander. And now all
the sea-captains, the pilots, the mariners, and the soldiers, so far from loitering, were
instantly roused and in action; each being eager to set the example, and to show how
ready he was to obey Chaireas, and to give him the most signal proofs of valor.

The battles were fought, on one and the same day, both by sea and land. On this occasion
the Egyptian infantry long repelled the Medes and Persians but, being at last overpowered
by numbers, they were forced to yield. Artaxerxes pursued them with his cavalry; when
equal was the struggle: the king of Egypt endeavoring to get into Pelusium, and the
Persian monarch to intercept him in his flight. The Egyptian would perhaps have escaped,
had not Dionysos first routed all who opposed him; he sighting valiantly near the king, in
order to be seen by him; and he performed wonders during the whole engagement. As the
pursuit of the enemy was tedious, and continued day and night;

Dionysos observing that this troubled the king, spake thus: Do not (my Liege!) perplex
thyself, for I will prevent the Egyptian from escaping, provided thou wilt lend me a body
of chosen cavalry. The king applauded his spirit, and gave him five thousand horse.
Dionysos then marched, in one day, the number of miles usually rode in two: when
falling unexpectedly on the enemy, in the night, he took a great number of them alive;
slew many more; and routed their whole army.

The Egyptian being seized alive, laid violent hands on himself; when Dionysos carried
his head to the king, who, at the sight of it, cried: Thou shalt be recorded in the royal
annals, as a benefactor to my house; and I now bestow on thee a gift, which, of all things,
thou most desirest, thy wife Kallirhoe. The war has decided the lawsuit: (bit: and thou
wilt now receive the most beautiful reward for thy valor.—— Dionysos fell prostrate, and
imagined himself equal to the gods; being firmly persuaded, that he should henceforward
continue the husband of Kallirhoe, and be never more separated from her.

Some critics seem justly of the opinion, that a conversation passed here between Kallirhoe and
Rhodogune, which was omitted by the copyist.


SUCH were the transactions on land: but Chaireas won a complete victory at sea; his
enemies not daring to come out, and face him with equal numbers. They not standing the
attack of the Egyptian gallies, nor once turning their prows towards them, but part fled
with all the sail they could crowd; and part, running ashore, the crews fell into the hands
of Chaireas; and the ocean was covered with the wrecks of the Median vessels.
Artaxerxes knew not that his fleet was overcome; nor did Chaireas hear that the Egyptian
army had been defeated. On the contrary, both thought themselves victors by sea and
land. The same day that the battle was fought, Chaireas coming off Aradus with his fleet,
ordered his ships to surround the island; and to keep so sharp look-out, as might enable
them to give a good account, to their commander, of all that passed.

Accordingly, those who had received these orders, drove the eunuchs, the women-slaves,
and all the populace into a spacious square or market-place; on which occasion the
multitude was so great, that part were forced to pass the night under porticos, and part in
the open air. Those of some rank were led to the town-house, where the Archontes, or
chief magistrates, used to assemble, and transact the business of the state. The women sat
on the earth round the queen; they having neither lighted up fires, nor received any
sustenance; being fully persuaded that the king was taken prisoner; that the Persians were
totally undone; and that the Egyptian had conquered everywhere. This was a night, in
Aradus, of the greatest joy to some, and the deepest affliction to others:

The Egyptians, on the one hand, being delighted that the war was at an end, and
themselves freed from Persian slavery: while, on the other hand, the Persian captives
expected nothing but chains, outrages, scourges, slaughter; or, as the mildest punishment,
slavery. Statira, laying her head on Kallirhoe's knees, wept. The latter being a Greek,
having had a generous education, and been long conversant with adversity, greatly
comforted the queen.

Now it happened, at this juncture, that an Egyptian soldier, who stood guard over such as
were confined in the town house, knowing that the queen was there; he, struck with the
awe which all the Barbarians naturally feel, on hearing the royal name pronounced, dared
not to approach Statira; but standing at the door, which was shut, he spake thus to
Kallirhoe: O Lady! be not dejected for the admiral knows not that thou art shut up here
with the other captives; but when this shall be told him, he will treat thee with the utmost
humanity, and take all imaginable care of thee. He is not only brave, but naturally a lover
of thy sex, and will make thee his wife.

Kallirhoe, at these words, vented a deep sigh; and tearing her hair, burst into the
following exclamation:—— I now am a slave, indeed! O strike a poniard to my heart,
rather than bring me such tidings! I cannot hear of marriage, and only wish for death. Let
them murder me, let them consume me to ashes, I will not stir from hence. This spot shall
be my grave. Is thy chieftain, (as thou sayest) is of a benign and generous temper, let him
grant me one boon; I mean, put an end to my life here.

The soldier renewed his entreaties, yet Kallirhoe would not rise from the earth, but lay
with her head covered. Hereupon the Egyptian began to consider how he should act; he
not daring to employ force, nor was his matter of eloquence sufficient to win her. He then
returned with a dejected countenance to Chaireas, who spake thus; — What can all this
mean? I am robbed of the most precious part of my booty; but I will take vengeance on
those who have done this.

The soldier replied:——My Lord, no iniquity has been practiced on this occasion: but the
woman whom I found extended in the market place, refuses to let me bring her to thee.
On the contrary, she is still lying prostrate; and calling out for a sword, wishes to die.
Chaireas smiling, cried:— O thou most ignorant of mortals! knowest thou not the arts by
which a woman is won? By soothing, by flattery, by promises; and above all, by making
her fancy that she is beloved. Thou perhaps mayest have used violence or opprobrious

In no manner, (answered the soldier). On the contrary, I have not only done all that thou
hast now mentioned, but even twice as much. I have invented a falsity with regard to
thee, by saying that thou wouldest marry her, at which she seemed most offended.

I surely, (said Chaireas) must be vastly handsome and engaging, since this captive
declares an aversion, though she never saw me. Be this as it will, she seems of a generous
spirit. Let no one therefore presume to employ force; but leave her to act as she may think
proper. It is incumbent on me to revere and protest virtue. Perhaps this woman may
bewail a lost husband.




IT has been related, in the preceding book, how Chaireas, suspecting that Kallirhoe had
been decreed to Dionysos, was fired with revenge, and revolted to the Egyptian; who
appointing him admiral, he won the empire of the sea: and how Chaireas, thus victorious,
seized upon Aradus, where Artaxerxes had left his consort, his retinue, and Kallirhoe.
Fortune was now preparing an incident which was scarce credible, and of a sorrowful
cast; viz. Chaireas, though possessed of Kallirhoe, yet knew not that she was in his hands;
and having taken the wives of other men on board, he was sailing away with them; while
he left his own in Aradus; not as Bacchus abandoned his wife Ariadne when asleep; but
as a prey to his enemies.

Hereupon Venus, displeased at so unnatural an event, resolved to unravel and clear up the
whole. For she began to be reconciled to Chaireas, with whom she before had been
offended, on account of his violent jealousy, and his ingratitude to her; after she had
bestowed, on him, a most beautiful gift; a gift more precious than that which Alexander,
called Paris, bore away. And now Chaireas, having settled all matters with Cupid, and
made full satisfaction to that God, by having been long tossed, from West to East, and
exposed to numberless disasters: Venus took pity on the wanderer; and determined to
restore, at last, to each other, a most exquisitely-beautiful pair, whom she first joined; and
who had undergone a vast variety of sufferings, both by sea and land.

I am of opinion, that this last book will be highly entertaining to my readers; and expiate,
as it were, for all the mournful incidents in the former ones. Robbers, slavery, trials,
contests, fixed resolutions to die; war, and captivity, will be told sold no more: but chaste
loves, and lawful nuptials, be the subjects of the following book.

I shall now declare, in what manner Venus threw light over this obscure affair; and how
Chaireas and Kallirhoe, not knowing each other, were, by means of that goddess,
reciprocally restored.— It was evening, and many slaves were yet to be put on board the
gallies. Chaireas, who was greatly fatigued, now rose up, to order and prepare the
departure of his fleet. As he was passing through the market place, the Egyptian said to
him: Here (my Lord!) is the woman, who will not go on board, and obstinately resolves
to starve herself. But thou wilt (perhaps) be able to persuade her to rise; for why leave
behind thee the most lovely part of thy spoils?
Polycharmus seconded this hint, he being vastly desirous of engaging Chaireas, is
possible, la a new amour; to console him for the loss of Kallirhoe: upon which
Polycharmus said: — Chaireas! — Let us go in. Having part the threshold, and seeing the
woman stretched on the ground, with her head covered; Chaireas immediately, from her
breathing and the form of her body, found himself greatly agitated, and in suspense; and
would certainly have then known again Kallirhoe, had he not been firmly persuaded, that
she was gone away with Dionysos.

Hereupon approaching very softly: Woman! (said he) whoever thou art, be comforted, for
no violence shall be offered thee; and thou shalt possess the husband whom thou covets.
At these words, Kallirhoe, hearing his well-known voice, threw off her veil, and both
cried aloud: —CHAIREAS!—KALLIRHOE!— when fondly clasping each other, they fainted,
and fell on the ground.

Polycharmus, at so wonderful and unexpected an event, was at first struck dumb; but
spake as follows, a little after. Rise! rise! Ye now are mutually restored. The gods have
indulged the ardent wishes of both. However, consider that ye are not in your native isle,
but in an enemy's country: and that it will be necessary you should now settle every thing
upon so solid a footing, as may prevent any future separation. Polycharmus pronounced
these words aloud: but the transported pair heard them imperfectly; as persons, at the
bottom of a well, would a voice coming from above. It was with great difficulty they
recovered covered from their ecstasy; when fondly gazing on each other, they repeated
their kisses, and again swooned away. This they did a second, and a third time, saying
only:—Do I certainly hold thee? Art thou, indeed, Kallirhoe? Art thou really Chaireas?

Instantly fame published, that the admiral had recovered his consort. And now, not a
soldier continued in his tent; not a mariner on board his galley; nor a porter, or servant, at
a door; but the people flocked from all parts, crying aloud: Thrice happy pair! to have
thus found again her exquisitely beautiful husband.

Yet the moment Kallirhoe appeared, praises were no longer bestowed on Chaireas; but
every eye gazed at her, as though she only had been present. Kallirhoe now walked, with
an air of majesty, joyfully, between Chaireas and Polycharmus. Flowers and chaplets
were scattered over them; and ointments, with wine, poured forth at their feet. On this
occasion were united the two most delightful articles, in peace and war, viz. triumphs for
victory, and rejoicings for marriage.

It had been Chaireas's custom, always to lie on board his ship; and to spend the greatest
part of the night, as well as the day, in a variety of occupations: but now, leaving all
things to Polycharmus, he, without waiting for night, entered the royal bed-chamber: for
in every city a palace is appropriated to the king. Here stood a golden bed, whose coverlet
was of Tyrian purple, of Babylonian workmanship. But O! what pen could describe the
night in which our blissful pair related their respective adventures; intermixing them with
floods of tears, and numberless kisses!

Kallirhoe began first, by telling him how she recovered from her trance in the
Mausoleum, and was afterwards taken from thence by Theron. She also related her
voyage, and how she had been sold.— Hitherto Chaireas had shed tears while he listened
to her story; but when she spake of Miletus, she, through modesty, was silent: upon
which, he, excited by his natural jealousy, grew uneasy; but the relation she gave of her
son, soothed and consoled him.

Hereupon Chaireas, before she had ended, spake thus:— By what accident camest thou to
Aradus? Where didst thou leave Dionysos? and what past between thee, and the king!

Instantly, Kallirhoe declared, with an oath, that she had not once set eyes on Dionysos,
since the trial: and that Artaxerxes certainly loved her, but that he had never offered so
much as to kiss her.

I, then, (continued Chaireas) have been very unjust, and too precipitate in my anger; in
bringing so many evils upon the king, since he never injured thee. When torn from thee, I
was forced to desert; yet have I not done anything, since that time, unworthy of
Kallirhoe; I having filled both the land and sea with my trophies.

He then told her all his actions minutely; and seemed not a little delighted, while relating
his his own heroic achievements. After satiating themselves with tears, and the relation of
their respective adventures,

Swift they resum'd their Hymeneal joys.


IT was yet night, when an Egyptian, of some rank, arrived in a pinnacle; and landing,
cried hastily, and in some confusion:—Where is Chaireas? Being introduced to
Polycharmus, the stranger said, that he had a secret to communicate to Chaireas only; and
that the business he was come upon, was vastly urgent, and required the quickest
dispatch.—Polycharmus did not go in to Chaireas for a long time, he being unwilling to
disturb him unreasonably. But the Egyptian growing more importunate; Polycharmus
opening the bed chamber door a little, told Chaireas, that a person was come upon an
affair of infinite importance.
Immediately Chaireas, like an able captain, said: Bring in the man; for war admits us no
delay. The Egyptian being introduced, in the dead of night, and standing by Chaireas's
bedside: Know, (said he) that the king of Persia has slain him of Egypt; and ordered part
of his army to march for that country, to settle matters there; while himself is advancing,
with the remainder of his forces, and will be here in a very short time. For hearing that
Aradus was taken, he laments the loss of the vast treasures left by him therein; but is
especially grieved, on account of his consort, Statira.

At these words, Chaireas started from his bed, when Kallirhoe, holding him, cried:
Whither dost thou run, without first deliberating on the present state of affairs? For
shouldest thou spread abroad this news, thou wilt kindle a mighty war against thyself. All
who hear this will condemn thee; and we, being again made captives, shall suffer far
greater calamities than before.

Chaireas complied instantly with her counsel; when coming out of the bed-chamber, he
artfully took the Egyptian by the hand: then calling his people round him, he said: — O
my friends! we likewise have overcome the king of Persia's land forces. The man who
now stands before ye, has brought this joyful news, together with letters from the
Egyptian monarch. It is therefore our duty to sail, with all possible expedition, to the
rendezvous he appointed. Be then the baggage got together, and let all hasten to their
respective gallies.— The instant these words were uttered, the trumpet sounded for every
one to go on board. All the booty, with the slaves, had been shipped the day before; and
nothing was then left in the island, except such things as were too heavy to be
transported, or altogether useless.

They then unfurled the sails, and weighed anchor, when the harbor echoed with tumult
and confusion; and all were variously employed. Chaireas, now coming on board, gave
private orders for sailing towards Cyprus; as though it would be necessary to take
possession of that island, then in a defenseless condition. The wind being favorable, they
soon reached Paphos, where stood a temple sacred to Venus. Chaireas, before they
landed, sent criers on shore, to offer to the inhabitants peace and amity; which being
accepted, Chaireas ordered the crews of the several gallies to land; when, after bellowing
rich gifts on Venus, and getting together a great many victims, he entertained the whole
fleet at a splendid banquet.

Chaireas, considering afterwards how he should act; the priests and sooth-sayers
informed him, that the victims were propitious. Animated by this declaration, he
assembled the captains of the ships; his three hundred Greeks; and all the Egyptians
whom he knew to be in his interest, when he spake thus:—My fellow-soldiers! my
companions in mighty exploits, so glorious to us all! Joined with you, we could either
make peace with honor, or continue the war with safety. Experience has taught us, that
we, by means of the concord which has subsisted so happily between us, are become
masters of the sea. But things are on such a footing, at this juncture, that it will be
incumbent on us to consult immediately together, and provide for our future security.
Know then, that the Egyptian was slain in battle; and that the king of Persia has seized
upon all the continent; that we are now surrounded with enemies. Is then any one among
you of opinion, that we should go to the king, and spontaneously deliver up ourselves
into his hands?

Immediately they all, as with one voice, cried aloud: We will submit to anything rather
than do this. Whither then shall we escape, thus encompassed by foes? And it will not be
possible for us to fly to the skies. — At these words, all were silent, when a
Lacedaemonian, cousin to Brasidas, whom dire necessity had compelled, in dangerous
times, to leave his native country, was the first who dared to speak: Why (says he) do we
endeavor to fly from the king, while the sea is open to us, and we are possessed of ships?
Both of these will convey us to Sicily, and to Syracuse; where we stand not in fear either
of the Persian or the Athenians?

All applauded this advice, Chaireas excepted, who pretended not to approve of it, by
observing, that it would be too long a voyage; though, in reality, he spake thus merely to
sound them; and to know whether they had declared their real sentiments.

However, as they all grew exceedingly pressing, and were eager to let sail instantly,
Chaireas said: O Greeks! ye have taken an excellent resolution; and I return you many
thanks, for the testimonies given me of your good-will and fidelity; and rest assured, that
ye shall not repent of this, is the gods favor our designs. But the Egyptians, of whom
there are vast numbers, must not be forced contrary to their will; as most of them have
wives and children, from whom they would not willingly be separated. Let then some go
and enquire, among the multitude, the sentiment of each man in particular: in order that
we may take with us none but volunteers.—All the commands of Chaireas were forthwith
put in execution.


NOW Kallirhoe, taking Chaireas by the hand, and drawing him aside, said:——What are
thy intentions? Wilt thou take Statira, and the beauteous Rhodogune, with thee to

This question raised a blush in Chaireas's cheek, when he replied: — It is not for my own
sake that I shall convey these women thither, but in order that they may be thy slaves.
Immediately Kallirhoe cried aloud: The gods forbid, that I should ever be so mad, as to
permit the queen of Asia to be my slave; especially as her person is, by the laws of
hospitality, sacred to me! Is therefore thou wouldest oblige me, send her back to the king;
since she treated me, while under her care, with as much kindness as is I had been her
brother's wife.

Thou couldest not form a wish, (answered Chaireas) which I would not indulge. Thou art
mistress of Statira; of my spoils; but, above all things, of my soul. Kallirhoe, overjoyed at
this reply, kissed her husband; and immediately ordered the officers to conduct her to
Statira, who, with the most noble Persian ladies, was shut up in a cabin, quite ignorant of
all that had parted; and not even knowing that Kallirhoe was restored to her darling
Chaireas; the queen being so strongly guarded that no one could approach, or see her; or
even give her the least information of anything.

So soon as Kallirhoe entered the ship, attended by the captain, amazement seized the
people, who ran up and down in confusion; when one whispered another, saying: The
admiral's lady is coming. Statira perceiving this, vented a deep sigh, and weeping, cried:
— O fortune! Thou hast preserved me till this day, that I, a queen, might behold my
mistress; who, possibly, is now come on board, merely to see what kind of slave she has
got. The other women now broke forth into lamentations; on which occasion she learnt
how dreadful slavery is to noble, free-born minds.

But God changed, on a sudden, the face of things; for Kallirhoe, being still on board, flew
to Statira, and embracing her affectionately, said: Hail O Queen! for a queen thou art, and
a queen thou shalt ever remain. Thou art not fallen into the hands of an enemy, but of one
who loves thee exceedingly; and has received the strongest marks of thy benevolence.
My Chaireas is admiral: an honor to which his anger against the great king raised him,
for his not restoring me immediately. But his animosity being now subsided, he is
reconciled, and no longer thy foe. Rise therefore (excellent Statira!) depart cheerfully,
and do thou also recover thy consort; for the king liveth, and Chaireas will send thee to
him. Rise also, Rhodogune! my first friend among the Persians, and go to thy husband;
with as many more women as the queen shall desire: and remember Kallirhoe.

Statira, at these words, was all astonishment; not knowing whether she ought to give
credit to, or disbelieve, what she heard. However, such was the rectitude of Kallirhoe's
heart, that she never jested in matters of consequence; and the present crisis required the
utmost dispatch in all things.

There was then, among the Egyptians, a philosopher, Demetrius by name, who was well-
known to the king; a man advanced in years; and excelling all his countrymen, in learning
and the study of virtue. Chaireas calling him, spake thus: I intended to have taken thee
with me; but I now will entrust with a very important commission. I mean, thou shalt
conduct the royal consort to the great king. Hereby thou wilt ingratiate thyself still more
with the monarch, and restore the rest to his favor.

Having said these words, he appointed Demetrius commander of the ships or gallies
which were to return home; for all would follow Chaireas; they preferring him to their
native country, and to their children. However, he only chose twenty of the best and
largest gallies; as he designed to cross the Ionian sea. On board of these he shipped all the
Greeks who were then with him: as likewise such Egyptians, and Phoenicians, as he
knew were brave and vigorous. Many Cyprians went voluntarily aboard on this occasion.
Chaireas sent all the rest to their homes, each with his portion of the enemies spoils; so
that they all returned joyfully to their respective countries, loaded with rewards and
honors; and no one who asked Chaireas a favor was refused it.

Kallirhoe carried, to Statira, all the rich vestments and the royal female ornaments. But
she would not accept of any of them, saying: Kallirhoe! do thou be decked with them, for
thy enchanting frame claims princely attire. It is also requisite, that thou do have
wherewithal to bestow on thy mother, and to present to the deities of thy country. I have
left many more things of this sort in Babylon. May the Gods grant thee a prosperous
voyage, and land thee in safety; and mayest thou never, never more be separated from thy
Chaireas! Thou hast acted with the strictest justice, towards me, in all things: and proved
that thy soul is as excellent as thy form is beautiful. The king, in giving thee in charge to
me, deposited an invaluable treasure.


WHO could relate the very numerous, and very different transactions of that day? Some
were offering up vows, and others bidding farewell: Some were elated with joy; and
others plunged in sorrow: Many were giving commissions reciprocally; and many writing
to their families and friends. Chaireas, among the rest, wrote a letter to the king, in the
following terms: Thou wast meditating the trial of my cause, and I have gained it by the
decision of a most upright judge; for war is an excellent arbiter both of right and wrong. 1
War has given me not only my own wife Kallirhoe, but thine also. I have not imitated thy
dilatory conduit, but instantly, and without thy desiring it, now restore to thee Statira
inviolate; and a queen, even in captivity.

However, know that it is not me, but Kallirhoe, who sends thee this gift; in return for
which, we request of thee to be reconciled to the Egyptians; it being the duty of all men,
and especially of kings, to prevent evil.2 Thou wilt have soldiers who love their
sovereign; they chasing to stay with thee, rather than as friends, to follow me. Thus did
Chaireas write.

Kallirhoe also thought it incumbent on her to return thanks to Dionysos. That was the
only thing he concealed from Chaireas; for, knowing his jealous temper, she kept this a
secret; and wrote to Dionysos in manner following: -- Kallirhoe to Dionysos, her patron
and benefactor, greeting. Thou didst deliver me out of the hands of robbers, and from
slavery. Be not incensed against me, I beseech thee, for my heart is with thee, on account
of our mutual son, whom I earnestly recommend to thy generous care; requesting that he
be nurtured and educated in a manner worthy of us. May he never be subject to a
stepmother! Thou hast not only a son, but a daughter also. Two children are sufficient for
thee. Marry thy son when come to man's estate; and send him. to Syracuse, that he may
see his grand-sire.— Plangon, I greet thee. I wrote this with 'my own hand. May health
attend thee, good (good Dionysos!) and blot not Kallirhoe from thy remembrance.——

Having sealed the letter, she hid it in her bosom, and when the departure was near, and all
were going on board; Kallirhoe, taking Statira by the hand, conducted her to the ship;
where Demetrius had set up a royal pavilion; with sails of Babylonish purple, interwove
with gold. Kallirhoe, with the fondest caresses, laid the queen on the bed, and spake thus:
— Adieu, O Statira! preserve me tenderly in thy memory, and write to me often at
Syracuse. Everything is easy to the king of Persia. I will make due acknowledgments, for
that kindness, to my parents, and to the gods of Greece. To thee I recommend my son,
whom thou didst use to see with pleasure. Look on him as a trust deposited, by me, in thy
hands. At these words Kallirhoe shed a flood of tears, and the women burst into wailings.

And now Kallirhoe leaving the ship, bowed to Statira; and blushing, delivered her the
letter, saying: Give this to the hapless Dionysos, whom I earnestly recommend to thee,
and to the king. Console him, I beseech thee; for I am afraid he will lay violent hands on
himself, when separated from me. The women would probably have talked much longer
together; have broke again into lamentations, and kissed each other; had not the pilots
given notice, that they were going to leave the harbor.

Kallirhoe, the moment before she went on board, adored Venus, saying:— Thanks to thee
(O Goddess!) for the good I enjoy. Thou art reconciled to me at last. Grant me then to see
again my native Syracuse. A vast sea lies between, and tremendous waters are ready to
receive me; yet shall I not be under the least apprehensions, is thou but bear me company
in the voyage.— Not a single Egyptian went on board Demetrius's ship, without first
taking leave of Chaireas, and kissing his head and hand; his amiable conduct having won
him universal love. Chaireas permitted this fleet to sail out first; when praises, intermixed
with kind wishes, echoed through the wide-extended ocean. Thus did these proceed on
their voyage.
How barbarous, how false a maxim is this?
Excellent doctrine! The reverse of the maxim above hinted at.


And now the Persian monarch, having triumphed over his enemies, had sent a person into
Egypt, to settle his affairs in that kingdom; whilst himself hastened to Aradus, where his
consort had been left. But being arrived near Chius and Tyre, and offering sacrifices to
Hercules for the conquests achieved by him; a courier brought advice, that the Egyptian
ships had sacked Aradus, and left nothing upon that island.

To this the courier added a most sorrowful piece of news, viz. that the queen was no
more.-— On this occasion the Persian lords, upon pretence of weeping for Statira,
bewailed the death of their respective relations or friends; one having lost his wife,
another his sister, a third his daughter; and everyone some kinsman, or person dear to
him. After the Egyptian fleet had left Aradus, it was not known to which sea it was
bound; when it happened that the Persians spied, the day following, some Egyptian ships,
whose course was doubtful, bearing down upon them. The Persians were surprised at the
sight, and knew not what to make of it; but were much more astonished, when they
perceived the royal standard flying in Demetrius's ship; a thing never seen except when
the king is on board. This caused a noise and confusion as though an enemy had been
near; when they went instantly to Artaxerxes, and cried thus: Perhaps another king of
Egypt may have risen up!

Artaxerxes descended hastily from his throne; and running to the seashore, made the
signal for battle. The king, as there were no ships at hand, drew up such forces as were
ready armed in the harbor. By this time some had bent the bow, while others were going
to hurl the spear; which Demetrius observing, he gave notice thereof to the queen, who
coming forth from under the pavilion, and showing herself to the multitude; they
immediately threw down their arms, and sell prostrate before her.

The king could not contain himself; but leaping first into the ship, before it was come
close to the shore, he clasped his consort with the utmost fondness; and shedding tears of
joy, cried':-—— Dearest wife! what gracious Deity has restored thee, at last, to my
longing arms? That my queen should be lost, and afterwards recovered, appears equally
incredible. By what magic is it that I, who left thee on shore, now find thee at sea? Statira
replied: Thou receivest me, as a gift, from Kallirhoe.
Artaxerxes, at this name, felt his former wound bleed afresh; when directing his eyes to
the eunuch Artaxates: Conduct me (said he) to Kallirhoe, that I may thank her for this
kind act.—The queen answered;— I will tell thee every thing; saying which, they walked
together from the harbor to the palace. There Statira, having commanded every one, (the
eunuch excepted, to withdraw; she related all that had passed, in Aradus, and in Cyprus;
and, at last, delivered Chaireas's letter to the king, who, after reading it, found himself
agitated by numberless passions. He was exasperated that those he held most dear had
been made captives: He was sorry, that himself had forced Chaireas to desert from his
service; and yet he thought himself obliged to Chaireas, for having taken Kallirhoe for
ever from from his sight. But, of all the passions, envy tortured him most, he crying:
Thrice happy Chaireas, and much more fortunate than me! After they had talked over
every thing, Statira desired the king to comfort Dionysos: she observing, that this was
Kallirhoe's request.

Hereupon Artaxerxes, turning to the eunuch: Let Dionysos (said the monarch) come in.
And now the Ionian, elated with the most sanguine hopes instantly obeyed the royal
summons; he being totally ignorant of the victories won by Chaireas; imagining that
Kallirhoe was with the other women; and that he was sent for, by the king, in order for
her to be restored to him, as a reward for his important services. Dionysos was no sooner
introduced, than Artaxerxes related to him every particular. On this occasion the Ionian
showed uncommon wisdom, and fortitude of mind: and, like one who should stand
unmoved, when a thunder-bolt fell at his feet; he heard, with surprising calmness, the
following words, more dreadful than thunder, pronounced, viz. That Chaireas was
conducting Kallirhoe back to Syracuse:— Dionysos not thinking it safe for him to reveal
his sorrow, as the queen was found again.

Most willingly, (said the king) O Dionysos! would I restore Kallirhoe to thee, was it in
my power; as thou hast given me the most shining proofs of thy affection and fidelity. But
as this is impossible, I now bestow on thee the government of all Ionia; and thou shalt be
enrolled, in the public records, as the chief benefactor to the royal house.—

Dionysos then fell prostrate before his sovereign; expressing the deep sense of his great
obligations to him. He then hastened away, in order that, when alone, he might weep at
full liberty. Statira, as he was departing, gave him the letter privately. Dionysos being
returned home, shut himself up; when well knowing Kallirhoe's handwriting, he first
kissed the letter; then opened, and pressing it to his bosom, held it there a long time, as
though the adored Kallirhoe had been present; his fast-flowing tears not permitting him to
read it.

After taking his fill of weeping, he began to peruse it, and first kissed Kallirhoe's name;
when coming to these words: To Dionysos, her patron and benefactor:— Alas! (said he)
no longer husband; Then continuing:— For thou art my patron and benefactor. ——
What good (said Dionysos) can I have done thee, to merit that title?—With regard to the
letter, Dionysos was best pleased with the excuse in it; and he read the same words over
and over again, as Kallirhoe seemed to have left him against her will; so volatile is love,
and so easily do we persuade ourselves that we are beloved. Then gazing on his son;
lifting him up, and fondly clasping him several times: Thou, O my child! (said he) wilt
one day go to thy mother, since it is her injunction: while hapless I shall spend my sad
days in solitude, having brought all these evils upon myself. A foolish jealousy, and
Babylon, proved my ruin.— Having spoke thus, he prepared to go down to Ionia with all
possible expedition; imagining that the length, and the diversity of the journey; his
command over so many cities; and the houses which Kallirhoe dwelt in at Miletus, would
soothe his profound melancholy.


SUCH was the situation of matters in Asia; during which Chaireas had a prosperous
voyage to Sicily; the wind blowing always right a-stern, and himself being in the open
sea with large gallies: notwithstanding which he was very much afraid, that he possibly
should be exposed to the rage of some malicious Deity. Being come within sight of
Syracuse, Chaireas commanded the captains to adorn their respective gallies; and to
advance in close order, as it was a dead calm. The people in the city spying them, some
cried: Whence come these ships? Perhaps from Athens. Be Hermocrates informed of this.

Immediately a man hastened to him, and cried: O Praetor! what is to be done? Shall we
shut the ports, or put to sea, and meet yon gallies: for we know not whether a greater fleet
is not behind, of which these vessels may be only the van? Hermocrates, at these words,
flew from the public square to the sea-shore; and sent out a pinnate, which being come
near to the fleet of gallies, the captain of the pinnate hailed them, and enquired who they
were? To this one of the Egyptians, by Chaireas's command, replied: We are merchants
from Egypt, and bring a cargo which will fill the Syracusians with joy. Do not then (said
the other) come into the harbor all together; for the ships I see are not trading vessels, but
long gallies; and seemingly fitted out for war. Let therefore one galley only enter the port,
while all the rest lie out at sea.— This shall be done, said the other.

Hereupon, first entered Chaireas's galley; on the deck whereas stood a pavilion, with
Babylonish curtains round it. The moment it was got near the harbor, this was instantly
crowded; the common people being naturally curious, and very fond of novelty; and they
then flocked to the port from a variety of motives. At the sight of the pavilion, they-
imagined that merchandize, of precious value, was under it. Hereupon some guessed one
thing, some another; and all conjectured everything except the right; for it would have
been absurd to suppose, that those who thought Chaireas really dead, could believe him
to be returning to his native country with a fleet of ships, and in such great splendor. The
parents of Chaireas did not go out all that day. Hermocrates attended as chief magistrate
on this occasion; but clad in mourning, and in a private manner.

While the multitude were thus in doubt and suspense, with their eyes fixed on the galley,
the curtains of the pavilion were suddenly undrawn; when Kallirhoe was discovered in a
robe of Tyrian purple, and reclining on a golden bed; with Chaireas by her side, in the
habit of chief admiral. Never did thunder strike so forcibly on the ear, nor lighting on the
eye, as this spectacle: nor did any man, at his finding a treasure, ever break into such loud
exclamations, as did the populace at this unexpected sight, which surpassed all the
powers of description. Hermocrates flying to the tent, folded his daughter in his arms, and
cried:—- Art thou then living (my child!) or do I see a phantom? O father! (replied
Kallirhoe) I now really live, since my eyes behold thee. Tears of joy ran down every

In the mean time, Polycharmus brought the rest of the gallies into the harbor; Chaireas
having given him the command of the whole fleet, ever since their departure from
Cyprus; it being impossible for him to attend to anything except his Kallirhoe.
Immediately the port was filled; when the same spectacle was exhibited, as after a naval
engagement with the Athenians; the gallies now returning crowned from the war, and
commanded by a Syracusian admiral. The voices of of the multitude, fainting from the
sea, were blended with those which answered them from shore: when repeated mutual,
kind expressions, praises, and good withes, echoed round and round. Afterwards came
Chaireas's father, who had fainted through excess of joy. All the youths brought up with
Chaireas, and who had been his companions in the gymnasium, came and crowded round
him. They being vastly desirous of saluting him; while the women flocked no less eagerly
to Kallirhoe. She now appeared more beautiful than ever, in the eyes of the people: and
seemed a new Venus emerging from the ocean. Chaireas then approaching Hermocrates,
and his father, said:

Take! O take the riches of the great king.—

At his command countless heaps of gold and silver were instantly brought from on board
the galley. He afterwards produced, to the Syracusians, ivory, amber, rich stuffs; and
every thing precious and splendid, whether with regard to the materials or workmanship;
together with the bed and table of the great king: insomuch that the whole city was now
filled, not as formerly in the Sicilian war, with the mean goods and effects of the poor
Athenians; but, (a surprising and unheard of circumstance!) with the spoils of the Medes,
in time of peace.

Instantly the whole multitude cried:—

Be an assembly held: All longing to see and hear the united pair. And now the theatre was
crowded, in a shorter time than words could express, with men and women: when
Chaireas entering singly, all cried with the loudest voice:

Be Kallirhoe called:—

Hermocrates being greatly beloved by the people, he, to oblige them, led his daughter
into the theatre. The populace first directing their eyes to heaven, praised the gods; and
thanked them more for this day, than for that on which they had triumphed over the
Athenians. They were afterwards divided into two parties; the men applauding Chaireas,
and the women Kallirhoe: then both together, which best pleased the enraptured pair.
Afterwards Kallirhoe, being fatigued with the voyage, and the violent agitation of her
spirits, saluted her country; and was conducted home.

But the assembly detained Chaireas; they being extremely desirous to bear the entire
relation of his voyage, and the cause of his absence. However, he began by the last
incidents; being unwilling to sadden the minds of the assembly, by a detail of melancholy
events. But they persisted, saying: Begin, (as thou art required) from the first. Tell us all,
and omit not a single circumstance. Chaireas found a difficulty on this occasion; he being
ashamed to relate many things which had befallen him, contrary to his will.

But Hermocrates said: Blush not (my son!) though thou shouldest inform us of particulars
which may be derogatory to thyself, or excite our sorrow; since, as the end is honorable
and propitious, a veil will thereby be thrown over all the part. Whatever we suppress,
raises a suspicion of something still worse, from our very silence. Thou art speaking to
thy country, and to thy parents, for both of which thou hast an equal affection. The people
are already acquainted with thy first adventures, as they gave thee in marriage. We all
know the snares prepared for thee by thy rivals; which inflaming thee with idle jealousy,
thou didst give thy wife an unhappy blow: that she, being supposed dead, was interred
with all possible magnificence: and that thou, being charged with murder, didst condemn
thyself; thou wishing to die with thy wife: but that the people acquitted thee, on finding
the deed involuntary.

What followed has been told us: how the sacrilegious Theron, having broke open the
Mausoleum in the night, and finding Kallirhoe alive therein; put her, with all the female
ornaments and the sepulchral treasures, of board a pirate vessel, and sold her in Ionia. In
what manner thou, sailing from Syracuse in search of thy wife, didst not meet with her;
but coming up afterwards at sea with a pirate vessel, didst find all the robbers on board
her dead with thirst, except Theron, whom thou broughtest alive before an assembly of
the people; when he being put to the torture, died at last on the cross. Next, how Syracuse
sent out a galley, with an embassy on board, for Kallirhoe: and in what manner
Polycharmus accompanied thee spontaneously in the voyage. These several particulars
we already know.

Do thou therefore relate all that has happened to thee, O since thy departure from this
city.— Chaireas then proceeded thus: After having happily crossed the Ionian sea, we
cast anchor on the estate of a Milesian, Dionysos by name a man the most renowned in
all Ionia, for riches, for birth, and for glory. It was he who bought Kallirhoe of Theron for
a talent; Here be not afraid, (continued Chaireas) she not being made a slave, but
becoming a mistress the instant she was purchased for as Dionysos loved her, he would
not use violence; nor could he, on the other hand, prevail with himself to send back to
Sicily, a woman whom he idolized. Afterwards Kallirhoe, finding that she had conceived
by our cohabitation; and being desirous of preferring a citizen for you, she thence was
reduced to the necessity of marrying Dionysos; and being delivered seven months after of
a son, she artfully pretended to have come before her time; in order that the child might
be supposed the offspring of Dionysos, and receive an education suitable to his high rank.
Thus (O men of Syracuse) is your wealthy fellow-citizen nurtured in Miletus, under the
eye of an illustrious man. He is a Greek, and of noble descent. Let us then not envy the
child so rich an inheritance.—These particulars I was told afterwards.


TO return to my story. Landing at Miletus, and happening to spy a statue of Kallirhoe in a

temple, I thence conceived fair hopes: but some robbers flying over sea, came, in the
dead of night, and set fire to our galley. They then numbered most of the crew; and after
throwing Polycharmus and myself in chains, sold us in Caria.

At these words the multitude burst into meanings, when Chaireas spake thus:— Permit
me to suppress what beset us afterwards; as consisting of events far more sad than any I
have yet related. But as the people clamored aloud, and insisted on hearing the whole,
Chaireas went on as follows. The man who purchased us was servant to Mithridates
governor of Caria; and he commanded us, then fettered, to plough the ground. About this
time some of my fellow slaves having killed their keeper, Mithridates sentenced us all to
die on the cross. As I was leading to execution, and going to suffer, Polycharmus
happened to utter my name, which was well known to Mithridates. This governor had
been Dionysos's guest in Miletus; and was present when my funeral obsequies were
solemnized; for Kallirhoe, on her being told concerning the burning of the galley, and of
the robbers,, had concluded me to be dead; and thereupon raised a splendid Mausoleum
to my memory.

Instantly, Mithridates ordered me, when near expiring, to be taken from the cross; and
afterwards ranked me among his bosom friends. He next used his utmost endeavors to get
Kallirhoe restored to me; and, for that purpose, obliged me to write to her. -- Now it
happened that the letter, through the carelessness of the messenger, fell into the hands of
Dionysos, who, not believing me alive; but, on the contrary, imagining that Mithridates
wanted to seduce his wife Kallirhoe, wrote forthwith to the king of Persia; falsely
charging Mithridates with a design to draw her away. Hereupon the monarch, being
resolved to try the cause himself, summoned all the parties to appear at his court.

This brought us to Babylon, whither Dionysos conducting Kallirhoe, her beauty became,
by that means, renowned throughout all Asia. On this occasion Mithridates made me the
companion of his journey. Being got to court, we strenuously defended our great cause
before the king, who soon acquitted Mithridates; and promised to judge whether
Dionysos, or myself, ought to possess Kallirhoe; who, during that interval, was
committed to the care of Statira. Think, (O Syracusians) think, how often I would have
laid violent hands on myself, thus torn from a wife I adored; had not Polycharmus, my
only faithful friend among the many who assumed that name, withheld my hand.

The king neglected the trial; he himself being enamored with Kallirhoe; though he had
not recourse to persuasive arts, nor employed violence. In the meantime, Egypt breaking
into open rebellion, a mighty war ensued, which yet has been of the highest advantage to
me: for the queen, having taken Kallirhoe with her, I was deceived by a false report,
declaring that she had been decreed to Dionysos; which firing me with revenge, I
deserted from the king of Persia to the Egyptian. On this occasion, great exploits were
achieved by me; I seizing upon Tyre which was almost impregnable. Being then
appointed admiral, I overcame the king of Persia in a naval engagement; and took
Aradus, where Artaxerxes had lodged Statira; with the immense riches which you have
seen. Thus could I have made the Egyptian master of all Asia, had not that monarch,
fighting apart from me, lost his life in battle.

I now have gained you the king of Persia's favor, by my restoring to him his consort; and
by sending back, to the chief of the Persian nobility, either their mothers, their sisters,
their wives, or their daughters. I have brought hither the most valiant among the Greeks,
with such Egyptians as would follow me voluntarily and another of your fleets,
commanded by the grandson of Hermocrates, will, in due time, come hither from Ionia.
These words were no sooner uttered, than the whole multitude shouted for joy, and
implored every blessing on his head. Chaireas, after he had prevailed with them to be
silent: spake thus -- Let Kallirhoe and I return, in your presence, the warmest thanks to
our friend Polycharmus; he having given the sincerest, the strongest marks of his
affection and fidelity; so that, is you approve of it, we will bestow on him our sister in
marriage, with part of the spoils as her dowry.

The people, with the loudest shouts, approved of this proposal, crying:— We (O
Polycharmus!) do return thee thanks, thou most excellent of men, and most faithful of
friends! Thou hast done important services to thy country, and art worthy of Hermocrates
and of Chaireas. Chaireas, after these acclamations, spake as follows: I entreat ye to
bestow the freedom of your city on these three hundred Greeks, my powerful army. -- To
this also the people, with repeated shouts, consented, crying: They are worthy to be our
fellow-citizens. ——

The votes being taken, they were declared duly elected, and enrolled as citizens
accordingly. And now taking their seats, they formed part of the assembly. When
Chaireas presented each of them with a talent; and Hermocrates gave every Egyptian a
piece of land to cultivate.

While the people continued yet in the theatre, Kallirhoe, before she returned home, went
to the temple of Venus; when clasping her feet, she fell prostrate with her hair disheveled;
and kissing the Goddess, spake thus Venus! I thank thee for having set Chaireas again
before me in Syracuse; where, by thy favor, I first when a virgin, beheld him. I do not
now reproach thee (O Deity!) for my past woes, I having been decreed to suffer them, I
only beseech thee to never separate me more from Chaireas: but to grant that our future
life may be happy, and that we may expire by one common stroke of death.

Thus far, I, Chariton, of Aphrodisios, have written concerning the loves of Chaireas and