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I know you well enough, and Leonax, Alciphron's son, not your sleepy Phaon, whom people say is roaming about when he ought to be resting quietly in the house, shall have our girl for his wife. It's not I who say so, but Lysander, my lord and master." "Your will is his," replied Jason.
But who can say I will, or this and that shall happen to-morrow? You are very sweet and charming my girl, and I don't say that I shouldn't be glad, but mighty Zeus! what will my brother Alciphron say and you, Leonax?" "I?" asked the young man, smiling.
He desires comfort in it, and only the beautiful is comfortable to him. Whatever would disturb harmony offends his eye, and to secure the noblest ornament of his house he need not invite any stranger to cross its threshold. The Muse, the best of assistants, joins him unbidden. Leonax, Barine's father, had been thus aided to transform the interior of his house into a very charming residence.
"Attention," she said, "is the mother of every true success. It is even more needful in cooking than in weaving; and if Leonax, for whom my hands are busy, resembles his father, he knows how to distinguish bad from good." "Alciphron," replied Jason, "liked the figs on our arbor by the house better than yours." "And while he was enjoying them," cried the old woman, "you beat him with a hazel rod.
"You know me and my position in the world, and you have also known from her earliest childhood the woman to whom I allude." "Iras?" asked his companion, hesitatingly. His sister, Charmian, had told him of the love felt by the Queen's younger waiting-woman. But Dion eagerly denied this, adding I am speaking of Barine, the daughter of your dead friend Leonax.
While thus occupied, she was thinking far more of her favorite's son and the roast meats, cakes, and sauces to be prepared for him, than of Xanthe. She wanted to provide for Leonax all the dishes his father had specially liked when a child, for what a father relishes, she considered, will please his children.
"Alciphron's son a 'stranger' on the estates of his ancestors!" exclaimed Semestre. "What don't we hear? But I must go to work to prepare the best possible reception for Leonax, that he may feel from the first he is no stranger here, but perfectly at home. Now go, if you choose, and offer sacrifices to Aphrodite, that she may join the hearts of Xanthe and Phaon. I'll stick to my spit."
These words softened Semestre's wrath, and, lowering her voice, she replied: "You will no longer need the lad for that purpose; Leonax, Alciphron's son, is coming to-day. He'll lift and support you as if you were his own father.
"She has gone out, and you will find father alone." "Then I'll go to him." "Did you say you were from Messina?" "That is my home." "Do you know my uncle Alciphron, the merchant?" "Certainly. He owns the most ships in the place." "And his son Leonax, too?"
"Then you'll be in the right place," cried Jason, "but you're not yet turning it for Leonax's wedding-feast." "And I promise you I'll prepare the roast for Phaon's," retorted Semestre, "but not until the sacrifice of an animal I'm fattening myself induces the foam-born goddess to kindle in Xanthe's heart sweet love for Leonax." "Xanthe, Xanthe!" called Semestre, a short time after. "Xanthe!
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