This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D.W.]
By Georg Ebers
Nothing delighted old Dido more than to dress the daughter of her belovedmistress in all her best, for she had helped to bring her up; but to-dayit was a cruel task; tears dimmed her old eyes. It was not till she hadput the finishing touches to braiding the girl's abundant brown hair,pinned her peplos on the shoulders with brooches, and set the girdlestraight, that her face cleared, as she looked at the result. Never hadshe seen her darling look so fair. Nothing, indeed, remained of thechild-like timidity and patient submissiveness which had touched Didoonly two days since, as she plaited Melissa's hair. The maiden's browwas grave and thoughtful, the lips firmly set; but she seemed to Dido tohave grown, and to have gained something of her mother's mature dignity.She looked, the old woman told her, like the image of Pallas Athene;adding, to make her smile, that if she wanted an owl, she, Dido, couldfill the part. Jesting had never been the old woman's strong point, andto-day it was less easy than ever; for, if the worst befell, and she weresent in her old age to a strange house—and Argutis, no doubt, toanother—she would have to turn the handmill for the rest of her days.
But it was a hard task which the motherless—and now fatherless—girlhad set herself, and she must try to cheer her darling. While she wasdressing her, she never ceased praying to all the gods and goddesses shecould think of to come to the maiden's aid and move the souls of thosewho could help her. And though she was, as a rule, ready to expect theworst, this time she hoped for the best; for Seleukus's wife must have aheart of stone if she could close it to such innocence, such beauty, andthe pathetic glance of those large, imploring eyes.
When at length Melissa quitted the house, deeply veiled, with Argutis toescort her, she took his arm; and he, wearing his master's mantle, andexempted long since from keeping his hair cropped, was so proud of thisthat he walked with all the dignity of a freeman, and no one could haveguessed that he was a slave. Melissa's face was completely hidden, andshe, like her companion, was safe from recognition. Argutis,nevertheless, led her through the quietest and darkest lanes to theKanopic way. Both were silent, and looked straight before them.Melissa, as she walked on, could not think with her usual calm. Like asuffering man who goes to the physician's house to die or be cured by theknife, she felt that she was on her way to something terrible in itself,to remedy, if possible, something still more dreadful. Her father—Alexander, so reckless and so good-hearted—Philip, whom she pitied—andher sick lover, came in turn before her fancy. But she could not controlher mind to dwell on either for long. Nor could she, as usual, when shehad any serious purpose in hand, put up a prayer to her mother's manes orthe immortals; and all the while an inner voice made itself heard,confidently promising her that Caesar, for whom she had sacrificed,and who might be kinder and more merciful than others fancied, would atonce grant all she should ask. But she would not listen; and when shenevertheless ventured to consider how she could make her way intoCaesar's presence, a cold shiver ran down her back, and again Philip'slast words sounded in her ears, "Death rather than dishonor!"