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"I believe that I love Alcibiades better than I ever loved Philaemon; and if the consent of Phidias can be obtained, I cannot see why you should object to our marriage." For a few moments, Philothea remained in hopeless silence; then, in a tone of tender expostulation, she continued: "Eudora, I would the power were given me to open your eyes before it is too late!
"The fetters of love are a flowery bondage," rejoined Philothea: "Blossoms do not more easily unfold themselves to the sunshine, than woman obeys the object of her affections. Don't you remember the little boy we found piping so sweetly, under the great plane-tree by the fountain of Callirhoee?
"Though we live in indolent Ionia, we still believe Hesiod's maxim, that industry is the guardian of virtue," rejoined Anaxagoras. "Philothea plies her distaff as busily as Lachesis spinning the thread of mortal life."
"Where a better man would have had better thoughts," replied Philothea: "It was during the sacred festival of the Panathenaea. A short time before midnight, it was my duty to receive the sacred basket from the hands of the priestess, and deposit it in the cave, beneath the Temple of Urania, in the gardens. Eucoline, the daughter of Agatho, attended me, carrying a lighted torch.
In her sleep, she saw Philothea; but a swift and turbid stream appeared to roll between them; and her friend said, in melancholy tones, "You have left me, Eudora; and I cannot come to you, now. Whence are these dark and restless waters, which separate our souls?" Then a variety of strange scenes rapidly succeeded each other all cheerless, perturbed, and chaotic.
I spoke to Philothea just as I used to do; without remembering that she had died. She left me more composed and happy than I have been for many days. Even if it were a vision, I do not marvel that the spirit of one so pure and peaceful should be less terrific than the ghost of Medea or Clytemnestra." "And the light shone all at once!" exclaimed Milza, eagerly. "Trust to it, dear lady trust to it.
"You are altogether mysterious to-night," said Philothea: "Has any disagreement arisen between you and Philaemon, during my absence?" "He is proud, and jealous; and wishes me to be influenced by every whim of his," answered the offended beauty.
In a subdued and troubled voice, her companion answered, "Oh, Philothea, when you talk thus, my spirit is in fear and now, too, all is so still and bright, that it seems as if the gods themselves were listening to our speech."
Unwilling to contend with passions she could not subdue, and would not flatter, she remained for some moments in serious silence. The expression of her countenance touched Eudora's quick feelings; and she said, in an humble tone, "I know I am doing wrong, Philothea, but I cannot help it."
Philothea stooped down and caressed the animal, with a slightly reproachful glance at her friend. "He was sleeping on my mantle," said the petulant damsel. "His soft, white fur could not have harmed it," rejoined her companion; "and you know that Hylax himself, as well as the mantle, was a gift from Philaemon."
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