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Title: The Tale of Eleusippus
Author: Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmin
Translator: John Albert Barnstead
Edition: Version 1 of the ETC Kuzmin Collection edition of
Responsibility: John Barnstead, chief editor
Responsibility: Vivien Hannon, editor
Publisher: Electronic Text Centre, Dalhousie University, Nova Scotia, Canada: Kuzmin Collection, May 2002
Source: Translated from
Encoding: Encoded in TEI-conformant SGML.

O Parmenides, wisest among the wise, was it not you who first told men that the star which marks the end and the beginning of the day, calling lovers to kisses and thrusting apart passionate embraces, bearing rest to workers and once again summoning them to their labors, is one and the same? How then could I fail to recall your name at the beginning of the tale of my lengthy life, filled with vicissitudes, o wise one?

I

I trace my descent from Corianda, just like my father Pittacus; I do not remember my mother, who died, having given me life and the name Eleusippus, but the old slave woman Manto often said that she was a tall woman with large blue eyes, well-versed in spinning and weaving. From her I inherited blue eyes and a gay, carefree disposition, and from my father a certain meagerness of body and a passion for journeys. However, I learned this much later although, alas, too early nonetheless; but for the time being my journeys were limited to the surrounding mountains and the sea, onto which we children made bold to descend in the remaining boats when all our elders had gone fishing, and our mothers busied themselves at their hearths. Be that as it may, we did not reach even the closest treeless and unpopulated little islands, which beckoned me and which I dreamed about, drowsing on old Manto's lap at the threshold of our home, looking at the fog over the ocean from behind which the moon swam out, orange against the lilac sky. Once my father took me to Halicarnassus, but I was never in Miletus; about my trip to the first-mentioned of these cities I retain but a cloudy recollection; I remember only the white horses rearing up and neighing, frightening me, the noisy throng, the big temples, but I was taken most of all with the fact that I was spending so much time with my father, a small, mobile man with a thin and thoughtful face and a black beard. I heard on the side that he was one of the richest men in the surrounding area, that occasionally he would lend money even to Milesians, and that no one was stricter with his debtors than he, but I understood this poorly, and it seemed to me improbable that this serious, sad and affectionate man could be strict with anyone. In stormy weather we climbed onto the roof and looked at the waves, and when a foreign vessel happened to founder near our shores we enthusiastically fished out the floating goods and crew's things, competing for the best catch. Thus I lived until my fifteenth year, from day to day, from year to year, growing together with other children my age and basking in the sun like a lizard.

2

It was toward evening when the flocks were being driven home. Helping my father's shepherds and enticed by a straying and disobedient goat far off in the mountains, I came to my senses in a place which seemed unfamiliar to me. A stream, its banks overgrown with thick bushes, alone violated the quiet of the narrow valley between the treeless cliffs. I did not see where in the gathering night the stubborn animal had gotten off to and was standing in thought, when suddenly the bushes by the stream rustled and parted, and before my eyes there appeared a girl of about fourteen, coming out onto the shore. Since her hair was decorated with water-lilies, she herself was wonderful, insofar as one could judge in the twilight, and, encountered in an unpopulated locality, she was unlike any of the local girls known to me, therefore I thought she was the nymph of the stream flowing through the valley. I fell to my knees at a distance and, folding my hands reverently, began to address her thusly as she stopped at the very bushes of the shore:"If I have disturbed you, blessed nymph, forgive my incaution and, gracious, help me better to find my goat and the road home, so that you may once again imbibe the serenity of repose." She stood without answering, and I continued: "I have nothing with me at the moment which might serve as a gift for you, but I promise tomorrow to bring you pies with poppyseed, milk, honey, and colored ribbons for the bushes to honour you, Lady." The figure shining white in the twilight rocked slightly, and a voice as fine as a grasshopper's singing reached me: "Who are you, funny fellow, who cannot distinguish a poor simple girl from divine nymphs?" I thought the nymph might be testing me and so continued without rising from my knees: "Then why are you in this valley alone and at night? What are you doing here? Approach me, touch me with your hand, and answer my questions, so that my heart is not confounded in vain." "Here, I have approached you, I am touching you, and I answer: I am waiting for my father here, who has gone on his way to Corianda and, wishing neither to take me into the city nor to leave me on the shore in sight of everyone, led me to this valley, which is known perhaps only to him, to await his arrival." "Well, now I have also come to know this valley and I shall tell everyone, and you won't be able to come here to hide." "Why would you do that? You don't know us at all and have never met with evil at our hands." "For this reason: likely you and your father are involved with bad business, if you have to conduct it at night and hidden from people's sight." She frowned and said: "You are a stupid and wicked boy, nothing more; I'll tell Father myself, and if you come here again he will kill you." "I could kill him myself." "You?" she asked, and the quiet valley resounded with loud laughter that woke the sleeping birds. I was attracted and infuriated by this barely visible girl and, not wishing to quarrel, I said in a conciliatory fashion: "Don't be angry, girl, I won't tell and don't you tell, and when you're here I'll come too, so you won't be bored." "All right, that's better. But who are you?" "I am Eleusippus, son of Pittacus,"I was about to begin, but she interrupted, asking about my hair, eyes, height and lips, and receiving answers to her questions, added: "You must be handsome, boy, and I like you and am glad to have met you. Let me kiss you." And this was not like the kisses of old Manto. But there was a loud whistle heralding the arrival of the girl's father, and I rushed to leave, learning in parting that she was called Limnantis. I got home quite late, when everyone was already long asleep, and, lying down in the yard, I looked at the stars all night, hearing the rustle of the sheep beyond the fence and thinking of Limnantis's kiss.

3

Coming frequently to Limnantis in the valley I came to know her father as well; to this day I do not know what business took him so often to Corianda and why it was necessary to conceal it; he was a man of the world who had seen, I suspect, more cities than my father, and his harsh gay eyes often confused me and hindered my beginning affection for him; he was called Crobilus; once I quarrelled with him over some trifle and flared up but, powerless before him, I referred to the wealth and eminence of my father Pittacus. "How should you judge of wealth and eminence when you haven't seen anything beyond your own hole?" "My father is known in Halicarnassus and even in Miletus." "Oho, in Miletus, but in Athens, but in Rome? In Sicily and Alexandria? And in Carthage or among the distant Britons?" he shouted. "Naturally you reckon me a little boy, mixing truth with tall tales. As to Athens, of course I know it is beyond the sea and my father has mentioned Rome to me, but I can come up with even more invented lands and cities." But Crobilus left me with a wave of his hand, while I hurried to Limnantis to tell her of my injured feelings. When she had heard me out, she remarked: "Of course you're wrong to get into an argument over something you know nothing about." "It's understandable for you to take your father's side." I turned away displeased, but soon afterwards we kissed and made up, although Crobilus's words were not forgotten by me. My father I told nothing about the girl or about Crobilus or about the valley, and for the duration of his infrequent stays at home I cut short my visits to the mountains so that he, who was in general absent-minded where I was concerned, did not notice any change. I was more afraid of old Manto and often lowered my eyes blushing when she looked at me too long and, seeing that her stare had been noticed by me, sighing and shaking her head she once again took up her abandoned sewing or net-mending. When Limnantis wasn't around I would find words written with a branch in the sand: "I'll be here at such and such a time, I wait for you, I kiss you" and I in turn drew a reply: "Rejoice, I await you in sorrow, I love you" and, tearing off a long flowered branch, I swept away what had been written above, so that the opposite end of the stylus, in erasing those lines, would be no less beautiful than the one who wrote them.

4

Autumn was approaching and the mountaintops were ever more often swathed with clouds; the time had come for Limnantis's father to cease his trips here, and we thought with sorrow upon the coming separation. As is often the case, the simplest solution was the last one to come to mind, and only on the eve of their departure did I make up my mind to ask Crobilus whether he was agreeable to giving me his daughter in marriage and to speaking of this with my father. "Look, will your father Pittacus, so wealthy and well- known even in Miletus, be agreeable to this marriage?" said Crobilus laughing. "I shall die if he does not agree,"I said, blushing from Limnantis'sgaze filled with gratitude. When I went to my father and said that I needed to speak with him, he smiled and remarked: "Our wishes have coincided, my son; I also need to speak with you and inform you of a decision which may be of interest to you." "I am prepared to listen, Father," I answered, feeling vaguely alarmed. After a silence he began thus: "You could acquire wealth, eminence, and influence with your fellow citizens only by developing that which you will inherit from me, but I see that this is not enough for you to feel yourself a perfect and Godlike man. The education which I lack I intend to give to you, and no matter how much it might cost me, I have determined to send you to Athens to receive the fire of knowledge from its very hearth. Be a man; look, your upper lip is already darkened by its first fuzz, and the time has passed for you to sit at a woman's skirt. You should thank the gods and rejoice every minute for your youth and the way that lies before you." "I thank the gods and you, Father, but I shall not conceal the fact that I had a different purpose and a different subject of conversation in mind. I wish to bring a daughter-in-law into your house, but you are preparing to rid it of its son." "A daughter-in-law, child? I hadn't noticed that you were a fiance. Who is she, Chloe, Nikander's daughter?" "No, Father, she is the daughter of Crobilus, Limnantis." "Crobilusis not numbered among my friends and this is the first time I've heard that he has a daughter. She is a foreigner." "Was not my mother, your wife, a foreigner also?" "I'm not saying anything against the girl, I don't know her, but you are young and your love will not drown on the crossing to Athens. This is the best test; true love, true friendship, love for one's parents and a death for the homeland -- these are the four blessings one must ask first of all from the immortals. Be on your way, be on your way, my son; if you wish, the girl may live part of the time with me so that I can come to know her better." And he embraced me, thoughtful and gloomy as our mountain peaks in autumn and not at all resembling either a fiance or a youth on his way to Athens.

5

"He agreed, he agreed!" I shouted, descending into the familiar valley and seeing joyful Limnantis hurrying to meet me. Having approached a distance from which one could examine facial expression, she stopped and, lowering her upraised arms, said: "Can it be that joyful news is now brought with a face like at a funeral? And I believe your eyes more and your cheeks from which the bloom has fled, more than your voice bearing joy." "He has agreed, I say, my father to our marriage, but my face is sad and my cheeks pale because I have come to bid you farewell." And, sighing haltingly, I related to her the decision and conversation of my father. Seeing that she answered my words with silence, I said softly, embracing her: "Now do you see that I spoke the truth?" "Yes, both your truths - alas! - have turned out to be true." "Don't you believe in the faithfulness of my love?" "I both believe and don't believe, I rejoice and mourn; I know you love me, but the large noisy city, new faces, friends -- these are but poor support for loving memory. I will wait for you alone, with only your image in my heart for a friend, and a week in Athens and seven days in Asia will not pass at the same rate, and the hours will be unequally long for separated lovers." I gave her my oath, kissing the earth, and she smiled, but when upon parting I turned from the mountain to the valley for the last time, the girl had covered her face with her hands and seemed to be weeping. The next day it was barely light when my father and I set off for Halicarnassus, there to board a ship bound for Athens, since it made no stop in Corianda. Listening with one ear to the exhortations of my father, I watched my native shore grow ever more distant, far from the thought that I was seeing it for the last time.

6

Setting off for the first time on such a compara- tively lengthy journey, I thought little of what was being left behind by me; of my father, the girl, and Corianda, and passing islands blue in the haze of the distance, I gazed upon the frolicking dolphins, little occupied with my future fate. On the ship I struck up an acquaintance with a native Athenian who, upon discovering who I was, where I was going, and why, wanted to take a look at the letter to my father's acquaintance with whom I was supposed to stay. "Glaucus, son of Nicoleaux?" exclaimed my new acquaintance, "but he's been dead for some time and, as he was alone, he left the house empty. But don't worry, young man," he added, noticing that my face had grown sad, "I can help you in this respect and give you a letter to my relative who lives in Athens." "Naturally, he's an honorable and worthy man?" I asked, remembering my father's exhortations about being cautious. "He fulfills the customs of his fellow citizens, he hasn't married his own daughter like the Persians, he doesn't give her to others like the Massagets, he does not hold theft to be an exploit like the Silesians, and he buries his dead according to the custom of his ancestors -- therefore he is considered an honorable and worthy man." A bit confused by such a response, I repeated: "But he's still honorable, is that it?" "In the Athenian fashion, my friend, in the Athenian fashion." "And you assure me that I'll be comfortable there?" "I don't know your traits; perhaps you're an eccentric like Demophones, Alexander's courtier, who was hot in the shade and who experienced cold in the sun, or perhaps you're like Andronus of Argos who crossed the Libyan desert without feeling any thirst. But the most important thing in your situation as a foreigner without acquaintance is that you will have a friendly house to stop at." Thanking my new friend, I asked the name of my future host, and learned that he was called Licophronus, the son of Menander. Engrossed in such conversations we failed to notice our arrival in Pireus, where we disembarked.

7

Licophronus lived near the Diomean gates in the lower foothills of the Licaboedian mountains, so that after arriving via the harbor we had to cross the entire city to arrive at our stopping place. Beginning with Pireus it was as if I were beside myself: it seemed to me that the whole city was gripped by the excitement of universal festivities or the anxiety of wartime. I had never seen so many people, houses, temples; horses drawing chariots neighed and reared, the sun glittered on the trappings of the steeds and the helmets of the soldiers, water sellers shouted loudly, holy processions walked by and cohorts with music, doves flew from place to place in flocks with a soft whir of wings, and a fortune-teller crouching by the wall predicted fate for those who wished it by use of beans. Although our host had not been forewarned, he met us joyfully, just as his two sons did, who were about my age; I was taken at once to the bath, and then we sat down to dinner, while slaves hurriedly prepared rooms for us to live in. I don't know if there were any women in the family, since I did not see them at table, but the men were talkative and simple, and in listening to their unforced conversation about civic affairs and questions of poetry I felt my as yet complete ignorance, but when I expressed my thoughts the guests broke out in loud lau ghter, saying that at my age the time was far from being lost and that the younger of the host's sons, Chrysippus, my elder by only a few months, would be my companion and comrade in studies. When the slave bade me goodnight and left me alone I paced for a long time in my little room. The noise of the streets had either fallen still already or else did not reach me here, and from the window which was higher than I could be seen a square of night sky with a large lonely star which I had known since my childhood in Corianda. With sadness I recalled my homeland and Limnantis, but soon my thoughts were diverted to tomorrow morning, when I would go to listen to the philosophers and Artemus the rhetor along with Chrysippus, who seemed so intelligent, elegant, and handsome to me.

8

Our life, although it was in Athens, was very mono- tonous; we knew only two roads: from the house to the place of our studies and back home; at first, according to ancient custom, we were even accompanied by a slave carrying our things, but then we began to go by ourselves. I became great friends with the son of Licophronus and, ceasing a bit to consider him the phoenix of scholarship and sophistication, I spoke all the more freely with him about my childhood, about my father, about old Manto and about my love for Limnantis. Chrysippus's confessions were of a different sort and, incomprehensible to me, embarrassed me a little, which I was prepared to attribute to my lack of education, and I tried with all my strength to become worthy of the friendship of this tall and haughty youth. Once toward evening we were strolling in the oleanders beyond the city by a brook and for the tenth time I was recalling Limnantis when Chrysippus laughed and said: "You're like an old priest repeating words you don't think about, and I don't believe the kisses of a simple girl could be so artful that the memory of them would linger half a year." And before I could say anything in reply, he seized the back of my head with one hand and, tightly pressing my lips to his, kissed me, darting his tongue in and out of my mouth so quickly that it seemed like lightning to me, and, struck by the clear memory of his darkening pupils quite close to my eyes, I did not recognize him for a second in the once again calm, haughtily smirking, tall youth. That night I wept bitterly, recalling Limnantis, but soon her memory became ever paler, and just as the radiant home of Licophronus had replaced that of my father, so the poor love of the girl was forgotten by me in the first joys of intimate friendship.

9

Summoned via a slave by Licophronus, I found him sitting in the garden under a plane tree; in his hands were tablets which he held open; the sun illuminated the bench and the knees of Licophronus in his pale tunic, leaving his face in shadow. "Do you know what is written here?" he asked, proffering me the wax tablets where I read: "Can I compare the mountain peaks of snow with thy pure brow as bright and clear as day? And curls which cast a shadow on thy brow are like the shadows of a summer cloud. Can I compare the azure of spring skies with azure eyes that never know a cloud, wherein that spring eternally remains as in the blessed groves of paradise? Can I compare carnations' scarlet hue with thy bright blush and scarlet, tender lips? So many are there pomegranate pips as there are kisses prisoned in thy lips!" I read no further, recognizing Chrysippus's Alcaic meter and, returning the tablets, I said: "Of course I know: these are the verses of your son Chrysippus." "And to whom are they addressed, do you know this as well?" "You would do better to ask him about it, but he told me that the elegy could well be addressed to me," I answered less calmly. Licophronus, silently chewing his lips, began: "To change what has been is impossible, but if one has a barn which has been engulfed by fire one must try to save the other buildings. Now I answer for you to your father, and even should the necessity never arise for you to see him, to comfort his age, nonetheless everything done by you will be known to him in detail. Think about this when you act." And Licophronus rose and straightened his clothing, as if to signal that the conversation had ended. Chrysippus's anger when I conveyed this embarrassing conversation to him was awful. "We'll run away! We'll run away!" he repeated each minute, cursing like a madman: "Do we live in Sparta? To raise such a ruckus over the most commonplace things! Never fear, he'll take fright when he sees that we've dared to sail away. Pretend to be offended and homesick for your native land and when you board the ship pretending to leave for Halicarnassus I shall be on the deck already so that we may go and spend some time in Crete, where I have friends enough." I was confused by hurt feelings and the unusual nature of Chrysippus's plan, but he consoled me, embracing me, and the wobbly bed creaked beneath our movements.

10

The journey, which had begun so favorably, was apparently displeasing to the gods, since on the second morning a suddenly darkening sky, distant claps of thunder and the loud screaming of the sea birds informed us of a storm's onslaught. It flew upon us earlier than we had expected, and despite the discarded ballast, despite our tossing in a crowd from side to side with every wave so as to balance the ship, despite our prayers and vows to the gods, it soon became obvious that we could not avoid disaster.

With tears and kisses Chrysippus and I bound ourselves together with a long strap in order to be saved or perish together, and hurled ourselves into the heaving sea at the very moment the crack of our ship resounded, carried by the storm onto a sharp cliff, muffled by the screaming of the crew. After a time I dove out of the wave which had swallowed us and saw that the flimsy tie which had linked us had parted and, not hearing the words of Chrysippus, who was swimming close by, but already separated from me, because of the wind's whistle, the roar of the waves and the rumble of the thunder which went almost unnoticed in the general uproar, I shouted encouragement to him, holding tightly to a board which had happened into my grasp. The waves divided us more and more and, drawing further and further away from my friend, I saw his head, which had been hidden beneath the water, bob out only to be covered again and, whipped by a wave after this second appearance, show itself no more. Powerless from battling the elements, stricken by the apparent death of my friend, I was rendered senseless and know not whether it was due to the prayers of my father in Corianda or the submissiveness of my body, which had been given over to the will of the waves, that I was saved and awoke on an unfamiliar sandy beach, strewn with shards of our vessel and dead or unconscious bodies. All my limbs were shattered, I was nauseated by the salty seawater, and when I remembered the death of my friend my eyes were flooded with tears. When the stormclouds had passed completely and the sun began to shine people came, gathering the things which had been thrown up on the shore and were still usable, as well as the people who had survived; since I could not move, they carried me to the huts in the shoreside mountains, whose dwellers were pirates and slave traders hailing from Tyre.

11

Those who had seized us, after waiting for me to grow strong enough to survive the lengthy journey and to look good to the buyers, decided to assign me to a party of slaves being sent to the Alexandrian market; the remaining captives from our ship they sold in the surrounding areas, leaving, besides myself, only an old man from Trapezus, valued for his knowledge of horticulture, to be disposed of in Alexandria. I was not forced to work and, weak from my ordeal, I lay for days in a half-darkened room, thinking of the past, mourning the certain death of Chrysippus, and listening to the considerations of the man from Trapezus, who was good and just even though he did not recognize the immortal gods to whose will I, in contrast, submitted and so contemplated the future lightly and thoughtlessly. My new friend was called Theophilus, although he was a Jew by faith. And we wished very much to end up with the same master, not to be parted even in slavery. Our desire was completely fulfilled since, when after quite a time we were brought to Alexandria and exhibited in the marketplace early one morning, we were bought the same day by a man who sent Theophilus to the garden but took me on as a personal servant since I was young and pleasant to look at. Since my master was far from old, was good, always smiling, and smelled of musk and amber, I soon grew accustomed to my situation, even though the gardener said I was living in sin, which I did not understand, being of a different faith than he. Our master was called Eulogius and his house was located not far from the Solar Gates.

12

The most exhausting thing for me was standing during the long feasts. When conversations which were at first most interesting became desultory, when the singers and musicians grew tired and played each his own, the air became heavy from the steam of greasy game, the smoke ofpipes and the breathing of people; serving dishes and wine or walking back and forth with the refreshing verbena I was falling fast asleep and almost fell on the puddles of spilled wine and the trampled discarded roses. Once Eulogius gave a farewell supper for the actress and courtesan Pelagea, whom he had loved more than three months. She sat next to him in a wreath of nasturtiums, in a black and red striped chiton, red-haired, with somewhat slanting, made-up eyes, glittering pendants and teeth which were visible during a smile; she was touching a goblet at the same spot where Eulogius was and speaking with him softly, as if they were not about to part. And suddenly, when the murmur chanced to fall quiet, her speech to the master was heard: "And now in bidding you farewell, my friend, I turn to you with a request: according to custom do not refuse to grant me a gift to remember you by, whatever I might desire!" "Command me, beauteous Pelagea; I trust you won't be bloodthirsty and demand my life?" "I ask for your slave Eleusippus," said the woman, and Eulogius answered swiftly with nary a frown: "He is yours" and later, turning to me, he added "Kiss your new mistress's hand". Pelagea seemed a miracle of beauty to me; being no novice in love, nevertheless I had not known women, and the courtesan's words seemed to me like a call to something unknown; but, not aware myself of what I was doing, I sank to my knees before Eulogius and said: "I am your slave; you may kill me, sell me, give me away, but if my voice may be heard, do not drive me away; if you are displeased then punish me, but do not part me from you." Eulogius frowned in silence, but Pelagea clapped and exclaimed: "I refuse, I refuse: to deprive you of such a devoted and tender servant would be a crime!"

The next morning I was flogged, but Eulogius's tenderness towards me doubled.

13

Once when the man from Trapezus was rebuking me for the life I led in the master's house, I remarked to him: "I'm doing this against my will, since I am a slave, and if you care about my salvation then even if I corrected my life as you wish, if I didn't accept your teaching I would nevertheless be far from the goal". "In the first place, as a slave you can still put your will and desire into what you do as a captive, and then I shall say to you that once a father said to his two sons: "Do such and such"; one said "so what?" but did it, while the second said "I hear you, Father" and did nothing. "Which of them fulfilled his father's will?" "I don't understand why one has to be either a stubborn hypocrite or a good ruffian, but if you like I shall become acquainted with those who believe as you do, to find out more about your teaching." We fell silent, since Eulogius had come out from a nearby avenue in the company of a large sheep-dog; he walked wrapped in thought but not sad and, noticing us, he gave me a sign to remain and to the other to go, sat on a bench, and looked for a time at the swallows which were flying low over the land and crying; then, seating me beside him, he began: "Do you love me, Eleusippus?" "You know, Master, that I love you." "You love me as a good master and out of fear of death or sale to another, perhaps less affectionate than I, should I take a dislike to you."

Flaring up I answered: "You are unjust in thinking thus; if you were my equal I should love you no less."

After a silence he continued, stroking the dog: "if everything passes, if everything is liable to decay, this does not mean that one must deny or belittle these things, but it happens that a man tires on the way and, without waiting for sleep to close his eyes, lies down himself before evening comes, to sleep in the yard of the inn." Although his words bore no clear thought of sorrow, I felt sorry for him and, not knowing to what end, I said to him: "There are men who consider the soul of men to be immortal." "You're not a Christian, are you?" he said absently. "No, I don't know any Christians, and I believe in the immortal gods." "If we have to part, youth, will you think of me?" "I swear to be faithful to you." "When you meet a man bearing my name, remember for a moment that it's a familiar name -- that will be faithfulness enough," he remarked, smiling at my exclamation.

A slave brought a just-purchased vase, where bacchantes danced in a garland and Achilles spun in women's clothing in a circle of servant girls; exclaiming it with unusual curiosity,Eulogius said softly: "I could smash it with a wave of my hand, yet it may outlive my children and grandchildren and the memory of them." Noting down the price, he gave orders about planting the autumn flowers and, accompanied by the sheep-dog, went off with a light stride, leaving me confused and perplexed.

14

Having some free time, Pancratius and I, in spite of the strong wind and stormclouds, went off as we had long dreamed, to sail in a boat along the Nile.

The wind had already torn away the clouds which had closed off the sky, and the crimson sunset was revealed in all its ill-starred grandeur, bloodying the cresting waves, when moving the oars with difficulty we turned homeward, now recalling the past, apropos of which Pancratius animatedly told of his travels with the actors from whom Eulogius had bought him, now speaking of our master's latest troubled time. We had not yet tied our boat to the iron ring by the broad stair descending from the garden to the river, the usual docking place of the master's vessels, when our ears were stunned by muffled cries carried to us from within the house. Informed by these sounds, and seeing people running only in the same direction we were but not toward us, we could not learn the reason for these moans before we had attained the room where Eulogius sat in the bath seemingly already lifeless, deathly pale, surrounded by friends, houseslaves, and doctors. By the grieving faces of those present, by the silence reigning there, by the wails which made their way from the neighboring bedchamber, we understood that death had left no room for the slightest hope, and inquiring about the misfortune, we silently joined the general mourning. The next day we learned that Eulogius had left a short note in which he spoke of fatigue and the emptiness of life, then voluntarily opened his veins on that stormy autumn day when the sun had appeared only in the crimson twilight. From the will it became obvious that we had been rewarded by the master with our freedom. Having no definite plans, and despite the displeasure of Theophilus of Trapezus, I decided to seek my fate with Pancratius, who intended to search out his old acquaintances and take up once again his former occupation as an actor.

15

Our company consisted of Pancratius, myself, Diodorus, an experienced gymnast, with his son Iakos, Crobilus, Fanesus and a white dog named Molossus; we travelled in two carts which held both our belongings and the props for our performances, stopping at villages and cities along the way, sometimes specially invited for local holidays, living if not richly then gaily and carelessly.

Pancratius quickly taught me his art and, growing accustomed to the theatre through several small roles, I quickly advanced to leads, playing, thanks to my youth, maidens and goddesses, especially, it was said, touchingly portraying Iphegenia being sacrificed by Agamemnon and Polyxenes. My thoughtless life in Corianda, the death of Chrysippus, and the example of Eulogius taught me not to attach great value to wealth and prosperity and, having a peaceful soul, I was happy leading the life of travelling mimes. I loved the road in the daytime and the acacias past the mills, the sea glittering in the distance, sunsets and sunrises beneath the open sky, spending nights at coaching inns, the strange cities, the public, rouges even under the mask, noise and clapping, meetings, the goddess of intrigue, rendezvous beneath the stars behind the panelled booth, suppers with the whole family assembled, Crobilus's songs, Molossus's barking and tricks. The money received from my former master I kept in a painted box made of carved wood and did not touch, waiting for an appropriate occasion, which was not slow to present itself; but this will be learned in due time, as will the subsequent course of my life filled with vicissitudes.

16

Once, awaking by chance at night, when everyone in the inn was lost in slumber, I smelled the strong odor of smoke, and through the cracks in the wooden walls reddish flashes glimmered unlike the light of dawn; looking through a peephole I saw that the house where we slept was half engulfed by flame, which only my deep meditation upon waking and the sound sleep of my comrades had prevented me from noticing. Shouting loudly about the fire, no longer undressed, I ran swiftly along the stair which had already caught fire, shouting on the way to a sleeping old man: "Save yourself, Father!" and came to my senses unharmed on the street, the first to be saved. Soon the area in front of the fire was filled with people extinguishing the house, with neighbors, the curious, mothers searching for their children, dogs, belongings dumped in a heap, crying children; people from the second dwelling stretched out their hands as if praying for help or were crippled leaping out of windows since the stairs had long since collapsed; the old man wandered about the square, telling how he had been awakened by a loud cry of "Save yourself, Father!" and had seen a fiery-haired angel who had saved him from certain death. "That's enough yarn-spinning, Father," I said, going up to the old man. "That angel was none other than I." But the storyteller and his listeners found a fiery- haired angel more pleasing, and they maintained an unfriendly silence in the face of my words. When there remained from the house only the brick stove with its protruding chimney, everyone began to leave, and the sun approached its zenith. I noticed a little girl about seven years old weeping bitterly on a scorched log. With difficulty obtaining answers from her herself, I learned with help from neighbors that her parents, transient people, had perished in the fire, that she had no relatives in the city, and that she was called Manto. The name, which reminded me of my distant homeland, the helpless situation of the child, who never ceased weeping, the habit of thinking for a long time and submitting to fate, the awareness that I had money, all these things made me take on the little girl, and our family, which had lost Molossus to the flames, was augmented by little Manto, who swiftly grew accustomed to us and to our life. But the care for her feeding and upbringing were considered to belong largely to me.

17

The next portion of my life, perhaps still richer in adventures, I am forced to transmit more tersely, hurried along by the proximity of the end common to all men, and not wishing to leave lessonless those capable of deriving such from my narrative. Around this time I received the holy baptism and was joined to the holy apostolic church. For this I am obliged to Theophilus of Trapezus whom I encountered on one of our stops in Alexandria; he presented all the squalor and sinfulness of my life to me clearly, and even the absence of any hope for eternal bliss were it to be continued. I was well-disposed to listen to his exhortations, feeling tired by the monotony of the motley life of travelling mimes, love affairs and journeys; I was worried about the fate of little Manto, but the Trapezan said that he who feeds the birds of the air would not allow an innocent child to perish, especially were it to receive holy baptism. The girl and I partook of the mystery on the same day from the bishop of Alexandria himself, and with conscience assuaged, in order to attain blessedness as quickly as possible I abandoned the capital on a clear morning to head for the Libyan desert.

18

I liked the simplicity of the brotherhood, the long day divided between weaving baskets and prayers, stories about the devil's snares, who now spilled a mug of water, now dragged a brother's eyelids down with fatigue at the psalter reading, now donned in dreams dear faces seemingly long forgotten, now in the guise of naked black striplings danced in front of remote cells. The stories of brothers who would come from far off monasteries and hermitages had as their subject the difference in rules, food, and vigils, and especial guardianship the Lord God exercised over desert dwellers and the devil's attacks upon them. Only one story, one encounter, was unlike the usual narrative and, like the noise of the sea in a shell carried onto dry land, reminded me of life in the world, filled with perversions and lessons.

19

Once approaching a spring I noticed a man with a travelling pack sitting crosslegged on a stone in a pose expressing the sweetness and serenity of repose. Unclothed he would have been like a resting Hermes. Greeting him, I asked where he was hurring so. "You're more right than you think," he answered smiling, "in saying that I'm hurrying, but it is permissable for a man who has ridden his horse to death and has been forced to go on foot for seven days through the desert in this sun to rest and think of what lies ahead."

Refreshed by rest, fresh water and food brought by me, the youth began to relate his story, giving in to my insistent requests. "I hail from Miletus and am called Harikles, and my father bore the name of Chtesiphonus. He was a merchant, but dedicated me to another field of endeavor, and hardly had I turned sixteen when he sent me on a ship he knew to Rome to his old acquaintance and classmate Manlius Rufus." "I was sorry to leave my native land, the close circle of my friends, Melissa, who had begun to hear out my whisperings more favorably inclined, but I was young, and the very word "Rome" drew me as the moon does seawater." "Of course, in Rome a young man with money can pass the time not badly not only in Suburra but going to the sea beyond Ostia as well," I remarked. "You are mistaken in thinking that only a thirst for pleasures drew me to Rome. "Rufus had a staid, elegant house, a rare library, and his conversations were a true admonition for a timid provincial; meeting all sorts of people there, I had no need to go out alone, and almost always only accompanied my host. Once we went off to the circus; Caesar, delayed by affairs, was late, and in the circus, already completely filled, only his arrival was awaited to start the spectacle. Looking over the rows of spectators, I noticed two people who attracted my attention. "I confess that it was in particular the beauty of one of them which forced me to take note of their not completely ordinary appearance as well. The older of them, in the attire of an eastern astrologer, was saying something to the younger without taking his eyes off him, and he finished speaking with a smile like the smile of a snake charmer, while the other in his turn also, it seemed, saw nothing round about himself other than the eyes of his companion. `Who are they?' I asked Manlius, but he waved a hand at me and said: `Who doesn't know them? It's Orozius the magician and his pupil. Must you ask such questions so loudly? Quiet -- it's Caesar.' And in fact Caesar, surrounded by his retinue, was entering his box. From that moment my thoughts were totally taken up with this youth, and I tried in every way I could to find a means to see him; learning of the place where Orozius lived and informing Rufus that I wanted to have my horoscope cast, I set off one evening to the distant quarter where the magician lived in the secret hope of seeing the object of my love. I recognized the magician's dwelling by the lions which paced chained before the entrance; a mute slave led me into the vestibule and left me there alone; barely restraining the pounding of my heart, I looked at the dying coals in the brazier, the glittering bronze mirrors, the dried skins of snakes. Finally the curtain parted and the magician entered, but he entered alone." "Yes, it's hard to predict what one may meet when indulging one's feelings," I said somewhat indifferently. "The magician gave me several ancient verses which spoke of daring, eagles, and the sun, and in which I was greeted as a new hero. I remember the beginning and a few isolated phrases. "I see the blessed man, joyful, daring, bold, the mark of the king on his brow, born to rule . . . In mountain heights a stream is born to run to the sea. In low-lying plains the water yields only marshland and swamp.

........................................

Draining the cup to the lees, say "I drank the last drop of wine". And between lips striving to kiss parting comes.' "Soon -- alas -- I learned for myself the justice of this last utterance. Visiting Orozius more and more often, I saw that I was entangled in the great net of a conspiracy which almost shook the power of Caesar. You perhaps have heard of this great undertaking, which did not succeed the first times but which I swear by Bacchus will be victorious?" "You think in vain that what is great for you and your Roman friends is great for the entire world as well." "But what concerned his prosperity was important to Caesar. Soon he learned through spies about the conspiracy against his godhead; arrests began everywhere; the friends of Manlius Rufus passed this along as fresh news. Rufus himself was not involved in anything and did not know how my heart was racked by the ever more confirming rumors about the discovery of the conspiracy and the probable execution of the participants. When I would drop by the magician's house I often found neither Orozius nor the youth in; the despondent faces of the servants, the silence or despairing whispers one to another, the dust lying about everywhere in layers -- all said that the inhabitants of this house were too occupied with important cares which boded no good. Once I caught Marcus (did I tell you that was the magician's pupil's name?) in the vestibule; going out he clasped my hand firmly and whispered without stopping: `Tomorrow before sunrise wait for me at the gates which lead to the Ostia. Caesar shall see that he has not slaves in us, but heroes!'" The narrator feel silent, lowering his head to his hands, and I, having waited for a time sufficient for feelings to subside or for a rhetorical pause, said: "Pray continue if there is a continuation; your story interests me greatly." "When I went out beyond the gates, over the plain descending to the sea there arose a fog which seemed all the thicker for the fact that beyond the city walls the dawn could already be seen. Soon I saw a rider, whom I recognized without particular difficulty as Marcus; silent he dismounted from his horse and began to get out some letters; I noticed the unusual severity of expression on his pale, almost adolescent face, and the fact that he seemed to be wounded. Passing me letters to friends in other cities, giving admonitions, he suddenly swayed, pressing to his heart clothing through which blood had soaked. Leaning against my shoulder, he continued in a voice growing ever weaker but filled with will and fire nonetheless: `If I am close to death, if I die, do not be afraid to leave me here on the road. Hurry, hurry, take my horse, leave me thus . . . Be joyful, remember: the teacher promised you joy, but I leave to you my love!' And bending over, he kissed me for the first time, then shuddered and died. The sun could already be seen from behind the city walls; I kissed my dead friend once again and covered his face with the flap of his cloak, mounted the horse he had left, and rode swiftly to the harbor."

20

Ten times had spring replaced winter and autumn followed upon summer since I departed from the desert; the memory of the past barely drew for me the familiar pictures of previous life, and I considered myself long ago to have stripped away ancient Adam, when I was sent on hermitage business to Alexandria in the company of brother Marcellus. Now comes the narrative which may trouble the soul of readers, but which shows all the more clearly how little one may rely upon one's own powers without the aid of grace, how mercy illumines the very bottom of the Fall's abyss, by what inscrutable paths Providence leads us to salvation. Thou, Christ, Son of the Living God, give unto me a speaking tongue, that in my weakness and in my fall your majesty and strength will be apparent. Once, upon finishing our work Marcellus and I were returning to the courtyard via a narrow street in the gardens beyond the walls in the suburbs. It was hot even though the sun had already set and from behind the lilac dusty clouds the moon swam out; it smelled of camel dung, dust, and jasmine, and from behind the garden walls sounds issued forth fine and plaintive, of lyres and sistra and instruments unknown to me. Some sort of waves of warmth seemed to radiate through my body and make my hands tremble and my feet slow their pace, but not from fatigue. We sat on a stone bench at the gates to a garden and Marcellus looked in surprise at my lowered eyelids and dried out, open mouth; the sounds tinkled on like a swarm of mosquitoes and the long- forgotten faces of Limnantis and Pelagea, Chrysippus and Eulogius whirled and intertwined before me. Behind the croud or all 4 people grate at the dormer-window there appeared a smiling rouged face and we were told "Travellers, come inside, don't be afraid. Here your feet will be washed, and you will be calmed in many ways." I didn't move; the images still wove before me; naked black striplings tumbled about in some sort of strange, shameless play; the voice from behind the grate continued to speak; then I stood and, turning away from Marcellus, who looked at me in sorrow but without rebuke, entered the enclosure. "I shall wait for you, Father," he who was abandoned on the street said to me.

21

I remained there until morning, and the brother waited for me on the street; the next day he went to work alone, while I like a captive kept circling this enclosure, and each evening found me going in the familiar gate and my brother sitting outside. Having spent my own meager reserves and not working once more, I began to spend Marcellus's pay, who had to carry a double burden. I was devoid of shame and pity, and waited only the scrape of the secret door when I would pass through the garden past the rouged, laughing women with their guests, would raise the reed curtain, when bracelets would begin to jangle on frail swarthy arms and ankles, kisses, the fragrance of a perfumed body when later a woman sitting crosslegged on the floor would pluck at the strings and rushing fine sounds would merge with the quiet, sad and passionate refrain. Something in her face reminded me of the past, and I often asked her about her parents, homeland and life. She would either kiss me with eyes closed or begin to dance, clinking her rings, or she would grow angry and cry. But once, when she was kinder and quieter, she told me her story, from which I learned that this woman was none other than little Manto, saved by me at the fire, raised and then abandoned when I abandoned the world; but I did not reveal myself to her. I must speak as before God and cannot conceal that there was cruel joy in making the sad fruits of my noble act still more mournful with my pleasure. I spent days and nights with Manto, but Marcellus grew thin and wasted away without saying a word. He no longer waited for me by the gate but lay at home on a mat, and when I announced to him my decision to renounce the angelic image and take Manto to wife, he could hardly raise his head. On the next day he died, while I departed for the desert to recover the gold that had been left there.

22

I found my money in the corner of the cave where I had left it buried; without revealing my further intentions I announced to the abbot that I was leaving their hermitage; the abbot said not a word but made his farewell with dry resignation, and the brothers did not go to accompany me to the bend in the road as was the custom. This did not offend me, since I was returning from the desert with a soul lighter and more renewed than when I had gone there. I seemed to have found my path. "Directly and simply to correct the evil I have done, even if involuntarily, to cast off pride, become an ordinary, simple, resigned family man, worker, to be kind and generous -- is not this the fulfilment of the direct words of the Lord," I thought with pride, and looked with love at the stars, dreaming of a new life with Manto and filling the desert with psalms and songs I had sung once upon a time while still in Corianda.

23

I opened a dyeshop for making purple cloth, bought a house with a garden, slaves; and Manto, freed from the necessity of selling her love, undertook with pride and effort the arrangement of the new household. Life flowed peacefully in quiet happiness and meek but prideful contentment in the path found, the duty fulfilled. But soon I noticed that Manto had become thoughtful, that she occupied herself not so joyfully with the garden and orchard, often sat at the door aimlessly looking at the street; she would go off somewhere, and once returning from the shop I found her drunk. Then she said: "I know I'm an ungrateful and wicked creature, but I can't live this way any longer, having grown used to the way of life you freed me from to exchange for this one. Even there, knowing that I was living in sin, I consoled myself that there was a different, worthy life, but now, without becoming happier or more virtuous I am deprived of even this last comfort. I know that I am upsetting you, forgive me this for Christ's sake, but let me go back." And so she left me.

23

Having sold my slaves, the house and the dyeshop, and used the money I received to bail debtors out of prison, I settled with a blind dog in the garden of a stranger, keeping watch over it in exchange for shelter and food. Having come to the conviction that any path which considers itself the only true one must be false, I considered myself wisest and freest of all. Thus I lived for about twenty years, and rumours about my life and teaching travelled far beyond the limits of the capital and attracted a multitude of people to me. Since my words were not tied to a particular deity they were accepted by Christians, pagans, and Jews alike. Holding money in contempt, I often met my visitors with a rudeness they took for simplicity, considering that one's manner should conform with the pleasure which it provided to the one to whom it was directed. Thus many years passed, when one day I began to wonder whether my rejection of a path was not also a path which should be cast off? Tossing and turning sleeplessly until dawn, in the morning I went out of the tent certain that I would not return, but not knowing where to go, and the blind sheep dog barked at me like a stranger.

Finis. 1 February 1906