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Updated: May 4, 2025
Drawn to the dock by the news that a ship from Italy was approaching, he met Horace with open arms, and afterwards accompanied him to the city along the Phaleron road. During the hour's walk the mist had gradually lifted, and the sky grew more luminous.
The admiral made an impatient gesture, commanding “Begin,” and the fugitive poured out his tale. All the voyage from Phaleron he had been nerving himself for this ordeal; his composure did not desert now. He related lucidly, briefly, how the fates had dealt with him since he fled Colonus. Only when he told of his abiding with Leonidas Themistocles’s gaze grew sharper. “Tell that again. Be careful.
Upon the flat shores near Phaleron the purple seas broke in spray, and the salty drops were caught up by the wind and mingled with the hurrying grains of dust. It was not exactly a sad day, but there was an uneasiness abroad. The delicate calm of Greece was disturbed. Nevertheless Dion was feeling gay and light-hearted, inclined to enjoy everything the world about him offered to him.
The democracy again acquired power temporarily, and Phocion was condemned to death. He placed Demetrius of Phaleron in power at Athens over a democracy with restricted prerogatives. THE ACHAEAN LEAGUE. In 279 B.C., there occurred an irruption of the Gauls into Greece, "one of those vast waves of migration which from time to time sweep over the world."
If, therefore, two or three dark-eyed flute girls in Phaleron had helped him to part with a good many minæ, no one scolded too loudly; the thing had been done genteelly and without scandal. Democrates affected to be a collector of fine arms and armour.
Mountain fastnesses where the clarion winds still trumpeted the victory of freedom and of Thrasybulus; upland caves where Plato had been taken as a child to worship Pan; long, white roads leading to the village homes of Euripides and Demosthenes; the wind in the pine trees on Pentelicon, reminding them of the wind in the groves of Tusculum; the autumn leaves on the plane trees by the Ilissus; the silver moon seen from the water's edge at Phaleron, swinging into the eastern void above the amethyst-dyed rocks of Hymettus; a sail on a summer star-lit night from AEgina to Piraeus all these things crept one by one into their conversation.
The Barbarian was vanquished; the impossible accomplished. Hellas and Athens were their own, with none to take away. They saw the blue bay of Phaleron. They saw the craggy height of Munychia, Salamis with its strait of the victory, farther yet the brown dome of Acro-Corinthus and the wide breast of the clear Saronian sea.
He swore by Zeus Orchios, Watcher of Oaths, and Dike, the Eternal Justice, that he brought true copies, and that if he was perjured, he called a curse upon himself and all his line. The Cyprian received his oath with calm satisfaction, then held out the half of a silver shekel broken in the middle. “Show this to Mydon, the Sicyonian banker at Phaleron. He holds its counterpart.
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