by George Moore
On looking in the direction of the voice he saw an old man leaning over a gate that he held open invitingly. I would have audience of the oracle, Rhesos said, to which the old man replied: Thou canst not be better directed than by me. Methinks we have some sort of inherited acquaintanceship, Rhesos continued, as he rode through the gate, my father having met thee by the bridge over the river Asopos in the years back, and again by this gate some six years ago. We had escaped from home, and he came hither to learn of our whereabouts from the oracle. I should have recognised thee before, said the old man, but my eyes are not what they once were. Dismount and we’ll talk easier, my hand on one rein and thine on the other, for being a small man I can talk to thee under the bridle. So thou hast come to put a question to the oracle? Now, it is a pleasure to do business with old friends. Isn’t that so? he added, grinning, showing a fang or two in his laughter, and they followed the path till they came to a rocky hill shrouded in oak-trees. Thou art the first this morning, and thy future shall be made known to thee in hexameters for a price that she would not accept from anybody but a friend of mine. A hundred drachmae will not be too heavy for thy purse? The fewer the drachmae the lighter the purse, Rhesos answered; a cruel jest thou puttest upon me. But hold thy palm and I will do the count. And satisfied with it, the old man went away. By some secret cavern he reaches her, Rhesos muttered, and he watched the shadows of birds passing over the meadow, regretful that he was not learned in divinations, till the old man returned, saying: — I will take charge of thy horse. Go thou to you cleft and put thy question.
Art within hearing of my voice, O pythoness? Truly I am within hearing, the pythoness answered, and when she had heard Rhesos’s story she said: Now leave me to consider my answer. Rhesos was moved to ask her how long he would have to wait, but the old man checked him, saying: — She is now in the swoon in which the answer will be revealed to her. And for how long will the swoon last? Ten minutes, half-an-hour, the old man answered, according to the strength of the inspiration. And to help the half-hour away, said Rhesos, wilt tell me if the oracle of Trophonios interpreted thy dream for thee? I must return to the gate lest I miss a passenger, sir. And the old man hurried away, leaving Rhesos in grave suspense, inventing answers from the oracle, every one ruinous to his hopes. At last the pythoness’s voice called to him, and he hastened to the cleft expectant:
Since thy quest be a pattern betake thee now to the green wood Sculptor and wait her coming beneath the shadow of plane-trees Shaking her golden locks exultant alone in the sunrise Thou shalt behold her at last foam-born Aphrodite in Aulis.
A green wood on the way to Thermopylae, overlooking the strait? Rhesos cried. And on what day will the Goddess appear to me? Tell me, O pythoness. To-morrow at sunrise, the next day or the next, or a week later — which? Thy question hath been answered, the pythoness replied. But there are many woods along the coast, and should I miss the one thou hast in mind — Get thee hence! I would know to which wood to turn my steps in the morning, Rhesos shouted. I beseech thee, Pythoness! And no reply coming up the cleft, he called on the old man to go to the pythoness and beg her to be more explicit. I dare not; I am but the humble servant of the oracle, said the old man, and as they stood staring at each other the pythoness spoke again:
Bend thine arc for the shooting of ganders on goose-grazed commons.
Thou hearest? cried the old man. She adds a fifth verse. A rude and insolent verse, said Rhesos. Believe me, sir, that no thought of incivility was in her mind. Why then doth she bid me to shoot ganders? Rhesos asked sourly. Go thy way, son of Kebren; thou hast had thine answer. Thy father was kind to me, giving me several drachmae before he rode away to Athens in pursuit of his sons. Give me as many as he gave, and I’ll offer prayers that the Goddess shall appear to thee on her way to the shore.... Five drachmae more, and I’ll pour libations! Thy palm closes on the last, said Rhesos; be satisfied, having gotten mine all. But the old man still clung to the bridle, insistent, and it was not until another applicant engaged his attention that he released it, leaving Rhesos to ride towards Aulis forgetful of everything except the morrow’s sunrise with the Goddess enthroned in it.
Thou’rt home early from Athens, said Thrasillos. I stopped at Tanagra to consult the oracle, Rhesos replied. But the moment is not one for questions. When father and mother ask for news of Aphrodite, do thou break in with words that will turn their thoughts from me. My discovery that the last lot of slaves is not as good as the first will be enough, said Thrasillos; and so sly were his words during the meal that parents and grandparent suspected no secret, and it was not till they rose from the table that Biote began to be troubled by something in Rhesos’s face that she could not read aright. Rhesos admitted that he had worked from the first light to the last, and amid pitying looks he wandered to an unoccupied room, where he lay remoulding Aphrodite in his thoughts, to meet her afterwards in his dreams and to awaken terrified at catastrophes that he could not recall whilst watching for the stars to fade, for it was at the first stime of light that he had been bidden to the green wood to await her coming. But how will she instruct me when she rises from the foam? With a gesture that I must not miss, he said, as he stopped to shake off the dust that his sandals collected at every step. Built out of sea-sand, the road fails to bind, he muttered, and the badness of the road was considered till his thoughts drifted from it to Aphrodite, and from Aphrodite to the stars and back again, to Thrasillos and his mother and the oracle — That bade me wait the coming of the Goddess at the first rim of day. Yonder is the green woodland this time my eyes do not deceive me; the sky is changing from blue to grey, and on a pleasant bank of thyme I shall he listening to the tide among the rocks till a great wave brings her ashore. He waited for an hour, and on the morrow he was again in the green wood, wondering whether Aphrodite would appear at the beginning of the sunrise or at the end of it. The incoming tide gurgles as it did yesterday, the crested waves come tumbling up the rocks, but without bringing Aphrodite to me. At last he saw her for a moment alone in the sunrise as she was predicted to appear. Tritons blew conch shells and loves disported, and then the vision faded; the sea was empty again and the waves churned in the little bay. I saw her between sleeping and waking, which is no seeing at all, he said. Waiting for her is a long time, and weariness comes to me under these great branches in front of that foaming sea. Yet I saw her.... But did I see her? he asked himself, as he returned to Aulis an unhappy man, clutching at hope, for despair was not yet.
On the third day a great effort was needed to leave his bed at dawn, and he rose from it feeling that if the Goddess did not appear that day he would never return to the wood; but on the fourth and the fifth day, and every day after that, habit helped him, and he shuffled down the sandy track full of hope that Aphrodite was conscious of his fidelity to her and would reward him at last with the gesture he had groped after for many long weeks vainly. But one morning as he was about to lift the branches of the tamarisk bushes aside he remembered that Goddesses do not break their appointments as mortals do. Had the oracle certain news of her, she would have come to my help before now. I am befooled by her or by the oracle, he added, and passing into the wood he asked himself if he had been sent only to listen to the little birds twittering in the branches and to watch the gulls half-asleep floating down the silver Euripos. A lovelier morning will never break for her to instruct a poor mortal, and no mortal ever needed her beauty more than I. She should have come as was promised, on the first day. And it seeming to him that disappointment is the human lot everywhere, he was about to leave the wood when two swimmers appeared in the flood. In a flush of expectancy he said: — Can it be that I am among the immortals, come upon me unawares? Swimming hand over hand they come, cleaving the incoming tide, rejoicing; and afraid that they too might vanish into nothingness, he kept his teeth clenched lest a cry should escape him. Now they are wading through the surf, becoming at every step more like mortals, two girls swimming from Eubœa, no more than that. And taking hear
t that he was among his own kin, he watched them, each turning herself to her fellow for judgment of her shape. As if dissatisfied with judgment by their eyes, they resort to measurement, he said, and are seeking a reed or rush. A tally, he continued, and to make sure that his eyes were not deceiving him, he bent the tamarisk bushes aside; but a branch slipped from his fingers, making known his presence to the girl standing for measurement. We need thee! she cried. Come hither!
We swam over from Euboea to submit ourselves to the judgment of the first man we met, and none seeming to be about we tried to discover by measurement which hath the prettier rump. Ye might have come on a goatherd, said Rhesos, and the girl that had called him from the bushes answered that a goatherd was chosen by Zeus to decide between Hera, Athene and Aphrodite, to which the other girl, in whom he had already discovered his Aphrodite, added: Our fancies often foresaw a king’s son under a goatskin cloak. And a crown and a wedding! cried Rhesos. But who are ye who would repeat on the shore the judgment of Paris on Mount Ida? Mnasalcas is our father, Leto our mother. Mnasalcas, the great sheep-farmer? Rhesos asked. The same; and thou? Rhesos, grandson of Otanes, the shipper of Aulis, returned from Athens lately to build a temple and carve a statue in honour of Aphrodite. Architect and sculptor in one? My brother Thrasillos is the architect; I am the sculptor. A pleasant story; my sister and I will listen to it — But before I tell it, Rhesos interjected, I would hear your names. I am Earine, replied the girl in whose shapes he had discovered a pattern for Aphrodite, and he was glad of it, for he felt there was an inspiration in the name. And I am Melissa. A pretty name indeed, he answered, the lack of enthusiasm in his voice conveying to Melissa that he liked her sister’s name better than her own. But before we hear the story, said Earine, we would have thee settle the dispute, for it is surely given to a sculptor more than to another to say which rump is the prettier. My judgment can be favourable but to one, Rhesos replied. We are not afraid of a sculptor’s judgment; is not that so, Melissa? Melissa acquiesced. Brave girls! said Rhesos. Then show yourselves in profile and in full. And the girls having complied with his bidding, Rhesos pronounced his judgment: In thee, Earine, I discover my Aphrodite. A judgment that leaves the dispute unsettled, said Melissa. As well mayst thou say: I love one sister better than another, she having the most money. A goatherd then would have given you a better judgment, Rhesos answered. I offer thee immortality, Earine. Hast any proof that thy statue is immortal? she asked. Risk is inseparable from all things, even immortality, he replied. In the same breath Phidias talks of me and of Alcamenes, and Alcamenes is a great sculptor. Why, then, shouldst thou not confide thyself to me? Thou askest merely for my body, Rhesos? I shall have to come to Aulis to be carven? Thy body is carven already in my imagination, here by the seashore, but for me to complete the carving thou’lt come to Aulis. On looking over thy shoulder thou gavest me the gesture I had groped after for many days and weeks. Thou shalt be Aphrodite of the Fair Rump for our time and for all time. Sculptor, thou dost tempt me sorely! Our immortalities are mutual, Earine, I the carver of the marble and thou the guider of my hand. Thou’lt marry me and we shall travel together over the Greek world — But who will build the temples? cried Melissa, looking back from the tussocks into which she was prying as if for a bird’s nest. Did I not tell that my brother is an architect? And our tastes being different, he may prefer a fuller shape than I have in mind; wherefore we shall all be equal. I may not prefer him to thee, which would testify to the Gods being unfavourable to us mortals, Melissa said, as she returned to them. But tell me of thy brother. I will indeed, and anywhere except on this naked seashore, without privacy for talk. In this wood... and drawing back the tamarisk bushes he pointed out the way they might enter without danger of tearing themselves with thorns. Ye have surely no prettier wood in Euboea, he said — a little wood of a hundred trees, but how shapely! And that they might see it as he did, he bade them admire the plane-trees, saying: The comeliest of all except the willow. Here are three beautiful willows, tall as plane-trees. The pines behind them have their beauty; and he laid an accent on the word their in the hope of reminding Melissa that were it not for his statue he would have admired her rump more than her sister’s. But Melissa showed no signs of relenting, and perforce he spoke of the mossy bank and the faint odour of thyme, and to interest her showed her a robin’s nest in the ivy, saying: — The young robins are out of the nest and the parent bird cries a warning that is unheeded. To woo her sister out of her sulk Earine said: Never have I known thee before without a thought for birds, Melissa — young birds, too, coming from the nest for the first time; but Melissa did not answer, and they sat on the mossy bank under the willows to hear Rhesos tell why he had come to the green wood that day.
I have been here every morning at daybreak for nearly two weeks, sent hither by the oracle of Amphiaraos. On what intent didst thou consult the oracle? Earine asked. The story is a long one; and his eyes went to Melissa, who showed no signs of wishing to hear it. But Earine pleaded, and he told the story, shortening it as he told it, discovering from Melissa’s distracted mien that nothing is so long as a shortened story. At last Melissa said: I think I will leave you; I am always happy when watching birds and listening to their songs. As she was about to start to her feet Rhesos cried: Pass not across the sward lest thy feet blot out the delicate tracery of the blackbirds’ claws on the dewy grass. Are my humiliations never to cease? cried Melissa. We came hither, my sister and I, in warm friendship to learn which had the prettier rump, thinking thereby to put an end to a continued discussion. Hers is preferred by thee because it suits the statue thou hast in mind — for no better reason — and now — Dearest Melissa, it was thou who willed a judgment, saying it would be terrible to live and die without knowing this one thing. We swam together laughing, Earine continued, with no thought of a sculptor in our minds, thinking of some goatherd, who alone could have given a fair, natural judgment. I beg thee, Rhesos, to speak to her, she added in a whisper. Thy beauty, Melissa, is equal to thy sister’s, but it is a different beauty. All the proportions of the temple my brother is building are to be discovered in thee, all the body’s adjustments: haunches, belly, shoulders, neck and head. Thou’rt architecture in essence, whereas thy sister is sculpture. And he told that he had foreseen the temple and statue in his imagination when they stood together on the shore. But thy brother, Rhesos — will he see his temple in Melissa? The thought that he may see his temple in me does not tempt me! cried Melissa. Thou art unreasonable, said Earine. It is not well for thee to charge me with unreasonableness, Earine, thou who hast got everything. Not everything, Melissa, only Rhesos. Wouldst thou then have the two brothers? Melissa asked, at which Earine laughed, and whilst they waited for the tide to slacken, Rhesos said: Thrasillos will wait in the green wood to-morrow at daybreak. How shall I know him? asked Melissa, and he answered: Here are daffodils blowing on the skirts of the wood. Gather a few, and I will pass them on to Thrasillos, who will carry them in his hand. And it was with such fair words that Rhesos persuaded Melissa into forgetfulness of the incident which had vexed her. But art thou indifferent, she asked, her face litten with a smile, to everything but stone-cutting? Is thy mind still possessed of marble amid currant bushes in flower? Snuff the air. And tell me if marble effigies are as beautiful in shape and hue as the birds flying through the branches. A sculptor should have eyes for birds as well as for rumps. Thrasillos will tell thee to-morrow, said Rhesos, that I have an eye for the heron always. And should have for yonder bird in blue-grey feathers, replied Melissa. We know him in Eubcea as the shepherd’s companion. And proceeding out of the wood down the shelving sward, they came upon a dead chiffchaff caught in a snare. The shepherds catch them by hundreds in Euboea, said Melissa, and whosoever set this snare forgot it. And leaving the bird to be picked by a gull or rat, they walked along the shore, Melissa a little ahead in search of a ring-ousel. But her search was a vain one — The ring-ousel having gone northward yesterday or the day before, she said; if you w
ish it I will try again. And getting no answer she walked round the wood, returning to them, saying: The tide must have turned by now. Time it is that we betook ourselves again to the water, Earine, and thou, Rhesos, wilt not forget to give the daffodils I have gathered to thy brother, Thrasillos.
CHAPTER XVI
HE CAUGHT UP a lump of clay and moulded in an ever-increasing certainty that Thrasillos’ temple would not lack a statue worthy of it. A woman’s body is full of exquisite designs, he said, head, neck, and shoulders flowing together, accumulating in the hips and ending in long, lovely legs and straight feet, toes as beautifully shaped as fingers. But my sketch was as naught till I caught the movement that rustled from head to heel when Earine looked over her shoulder. For the perfect enjoyment of his success he lay down within view of his statue, saying: For five weeks, or five months, I was unable to achieve anything, though in good health of body and mind, and Thrasillos attributed this strange sterility to the influence of Phidias. But would Phidias have set me free? A knock interrupted his thinking. Now, who can this be? He waited for another knock, and recognising it as his brother’s he rose to let him in.
