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Updated: May 14, 2025
So it came to pass that the next morning, long before Pratinas and Ahenobarbus met in the Forum and reviewed the steps taken in the words that gave Sesostris the key to the situation, Phaon was driving toward Præneste. Of course a mere freedman, on a journey preferably kept quiet, travelled in not the least state.
Yet, if she did love a youth, and for his sake had climbed to the spring, he must doubtless dwell in the reddish house, standing on a beautiful level patch of ground on the right of the brook, between the sea and the pool; for she glanced toward it again and again, and, except the servants, no one lived under its roof save the aged steward Jason, and Phaon, her uncle's son.
"And who shamefully killed my gray cat?" "It entered Phaon's dove-cote and killed the young of his best pair of cropper pigeons." "It was a marten, not the good, kind creature. You are unfriendly in all your acts, for when our brown hen flew over to you yesterday she was driven away with stones. Did Phaon mistake her for a vulture with sharp beak and powerful talons?"
Xanthe was thinking of Phaon as she sat beside the spring, but her brow wore such a defiant frown that she did not bear the most distant resemblance to a maiden giving herself up to tender emotions. Now the door of the reddish house opened, and, rising hastily, she looked toward it. A slave came cautiously out, bearing a large jar with handles, made of brown clay, adorned with black figures.
straightway she herself became Medea, Jason took on the form of Drusus, and she would read no more; "while," as the next line of the learned poet had it, "grief consumed her heart." Only one other recreation was left her. Artemisia had not been taken away by Phaon, who decided that the girl was quite impotent to thwart his ends.
People flocked from all quarters to the house of Phaon to gaze on the lifeless body, and to exult in the monster's death. The people of the city gave themselves up to the wildest and most extravagant joy.
"Gone, early this morning!" "Then, the gods reward you for your news, I am gone too!" And without another word to Artemisia or the old slave, Agias had rushed out into the street. He had a double game to play to prevent Phaon from ever reaching Præneste, and then get such help to Drusus as would enable him to beat off Dumnorix and his gang.
"Still, I stick to it: your Xanthe belongs to our Phaon, and, if you would act according to Dionysius's wishes, like fair-minded people " "Isn't Alciphron the best and wisest of men also Dionysius's child?
"Mopsus is a bold, good-for-nothing fellow, whom I've often wanted to drive out of the house, but I should like to see the person who refused me obedience. As for your proposal, you have now heard distinctly enough that our girl is intended for Leonax." "But suppose Xanthe doesn't want Leonax, and prefers Phaon to the stranger?"
At last his freedmen, Phaon, Sporus, and Epaphroditus, came to his rescue. They wished him to flee, and said that there was no time to be lost; but he deceived himself still. If he should dress in mourning and speak to the Senate, would it resist his prayers and eloquence? If he should use all his eloquence, his rhetoric and skill of an actor, would any one on earth have power to resist him?
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