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Updated: June 15, 2025
I try to render that other inscription for the tomb of little Erotion: Here lies the body of the little maid Erotion; From her sixth winter's snows her eager shade Hath fleeted on!
Then she grew faint, and fixing her enormous, frightened eyes on the Greek, she exclaimed: "You! Is it you?" "Do you recognize me?" "Yes, you are the Athenian; you are my master; the lover of Sónnica the rich. Tell me, where is Erotion?" The Greek did not know how to answer, but Rhanto continued speaking without awaiting his reply.
He commends her in Hades to his own father and mother gone before him, that the child may not be frightened in the dark, friendless among the shades "Parvula ne nigras horrescat Erotion umbras Oraque Tartarei prodigiosa canis." There is a kind of playfulness in the sorrow, and the pity of a man for a child; pity that shows itself in a smile.
The Athenian understood that his presence disturbed the young people. "Work, Erotion!" he said. "Be a great artist if you can. The sculptors of Athens would envy you your model. Now that I know that you hide here I will not again annoy you with my presence." And so it was.
"This is Erotion," said Rhanto, who smiled sweetly as she saw her friend. "Although born in Saguntum, he is a Greek like yourself, stranger." The youth did not glance at the girl; he stood looking at the stranger respectfully. "Are you from Athens, really?" he said with admiration. "You cannot deny it.
With drawn bow he thrust his head outside the merlons for an instant and shot, managing to send his arrows into the loopholes of the tower, scattering death among the soldiers who thought themselves secure. Erotion was at his side.
"Besides," she persisted, with animation, "my friend Erotion, the son of Mopsus, the archer who came from Rhodes, speaks it. He is a friend who helps me watch the goats when he is not working in the pottery, which also belongs to Sónnica."
That people should say, after I am dead, 'Erotion the Saguntine made this. I should not hear it after having spent my life working and suffering. No; let us live and love. That day I kicked the statue to pieces, and I embraced Rhanto with an enthusiasm of joy. Loving each other is better than wasting time over clay puppets. Is not that so, Rhanto?"
Actæon smiled at the strong, handsome young folks who ever sought each other's company and frolicked as if they were in the heart of the desert, giving no heed to the danger threatening the city. "But what about your art?" he asked. Erotion and Rhanto laughed at the recollection. "I smashed the figure to pieces," said the boy.
I see him from afar, upon the walls, among the defenders, but when I climb up to search for him I find none but armed men, and Erotion disappears. He is only faithful to me at night. Then he seeks me, he comes to me.
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