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Of the murdered generals, Clearchus was a man of high military capacity, but a harsh disciplinarian, feared and respected, but very unpopular; Proxenus, a particular friend of Xenophon, was an amiable but not a strong man; Menon, the Thessalian, was a crafty and hypocritical time-server, of whom no good can be spoken.
While this reply was conveyed to Ariæus by his particular friend Menon along with the messengers, the Greeks procured a meal as well as they could, having no bread, by killing some of the baggage animals; and by kindling fire to cook their meat, from the arrows, the wooden Egyptian shields which had been thrown away on the field, and the baggage carts.
"Menon, a cushion for our guest!" cried Rhodopis. "Be welcome to my house and take some repose after your wild, thoroughly Lydian, ride." "By the dog, Gyges!" exclaimed Croesus. Schol. Aristoph. "What brings thee here at this hour? I begged thee not to quit Bartja's side . . . But how thou look'st! what is the matter? has aught happened? speak, speak!"
"My throat needs wetting," cried a man. He pulled off a little vase of wine that hung from his girdle and passed it to Menon, saying: "I should be proud if the father of the victor would drink from my bottle." And Menon took it, smiling proudly. Then he himself opened a little cloth bag and drew out figs and nuts. "Here is something to munch, lad," he said to Charmides.
The rivalry between these two royal women, doubtless arising out of many other circumstances besides the death of Klearchus, became soon afterwards so furious, that Parysatis caused Stateira to be poisoned. Menon was not put to death along with the other generals. He appears to have taken credit at the Persian court for the treason of entrapping his colleagues into the hands of Tissaphernês.
In the evening Menon set out with two hundred grenadiers. He had already put three-quarters of the way behind him without being discovered, when an Englishman met them by chance. This man was serving under Roland, but had been visiting his sweetheart in a neighbouring village, and was on his way home when he fell among Menon's grenadiers.
And to Zeus, the father, and to all the immortals be thanks." As he prayed he turned the cup and spilled the wine upon the ground. That was the god's portion. A slave spread down a rug for his master to lie upon and put cushions under his elbow. Glaucon did the same for Charmides, and the meal began. Menon talked gaily about their journey, the games to-morrow, Creon's training.
His son was well and sure of victory. "Come, little son," he called to Charmides. "You must be as hungry as a wolf. But first our thanks to the gods." A slave had poured a little wine into a flat cup and stood now offering it to his master. Menon took it and held it high, looking up into the blue heavens. "O gracious Hermes!" he cried aloud, "fulfill thy omen!
Without a thought for his own safety, he fired off his gun, shouting, "Fly! fly! The royals are upon you!" The sentinels took up the cry, Roland jumped out of bed, and, without staying for clothes or horse, ran off in his shirt, escaping by a postern gate which opened on the forest just as de Menon entered by another.
When the search was over, and he became convinced she was fled, the deep workings of his disappointed passions fermented into rage which exceeded all bounds. He denounced the most terrible judgments upon Julia; and calling for Madame de Menon, charged her with having insulted her holy religion, in being accessary to the flight of Julia.
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