17. It took us five days sail after this to reach Ephesus. Her house there was large and one of the most important in the city, her servants numerous and her furniture costly. She first ordered a most elaborate dinner to be prepared; “Meanwhile,” said she, “we will visit my country seat.” This was about half a mile from the city, and we entered a carriage and set out for it. On our arrival we were walking through the rows of plants in the garden when suddenly there threw herself at our feet a woman wearing heavy fetters and holding a hoe, her head shorn, her person dirty, clad in a short and wretched garment. “Have pity on me,” she cried, “my lady, let a woman pity a woman, and one that was once free, and was born so, though now, by the decree of Fortune, a slave.” After these words she remained silent; so “Rise, woman,” said Melitte, “say who you are and whence you come, and to whom you owe these fetters. Even in your misery your appearance proclaims aloud that you are of gentle birth.”
“It is your steward,” she replied, “because I would not be a slave to his lusts. My name is Lacaena, I come from Thessaly. I lay before you this my fate with all supplication. Save me from this threatening disaster, grant me security until I can pay you the two thousand pieces of gold; that was the sum for which Sosthenes bought me from the hands of the pirates, and be sure that I can raise it with very small delay; if not, I will be your slave. Yes, and you can see how he has torn my flesh with many stripes,” and, as she spoke, she opened her tunic and shewed us her back most piteously marked and scarred. When we heard her story, while I was greatly moved, finding some look of Leucippe about her, Melitte said, “Be of good cheer, woman: I will both deliver you from your present apprehension and will send you back to your own country without ransom. Let someone call Sosthenes hither to us.”
The woman was at once freed from her fetters, and Sosthenes appeared before us greatly disordered. “Wretch,” said Melitte to him, “have you ever seen even the most worthless of my slaves disfigured like this at my hands? Who is this woman? No lies, now: tell me the whole story.”
“I know nothing, Madam,” said he, “save that a dealer named Callisthenes sold her to me, saying that he had bought her from some pirates, and that she was of free birth. The dealer said that her name was Lacaena.” Melitte deposed him from his stewardship, and handed over the woman to her serving-maids, bidding them wash her, clothe her in clean garments, and bring her to town. Then, having settled the business connected with her country place, the object of her journey thither, she entered the carriage with me and returned to the city, where we set about our dinner.
18. I was about at the middle of the banquet when Satyrus indicated to me by signs to come aside, with a grave expression on his face. I therefore made some pretence of a call of nature, and left the table. When I had come to him, he said nothing, but handed me a letter. Even as I took it from him, before I began to read it, I was thunder-struck; for I recognized Leucippe’s writing! This was the tenor of it.
Leucippe, to my lord Clitophon.
Lord I must call you, as you are my lady’s husband. You know what I have suffered for your sake, but perforce I must remind you of it. For you I left my mother and, took up the life of a wanderer; for you I suffered shipwreck and fell into the hands of pirates; for you I became a victim for sacrifice and an expiatory offering and twice entered the valley of the shadow of death; for you I was sold and fettered, I carried a hoe, I tilled the ground, I underwent the scourge — and was this all that I might become to another man what you have become to another woman? Never. I, through all these trials, have persevered to the end; you were never sold, never scourged, but you are marrying. If you have any gratitude for all that I have suffered for your sake, ask your wife to send me home as she promised; lend me the two thousand pieces of gold which Sosthenes paid for me, and go bail to Melitte that I will send them to her. Byzantium is not far off, and even if you have to pay the money yourself, consider it a return for the miseries endured for your sake. Fare you well, and be happy in your new espousals: I who write this to you am still a virgin.
19. At this message I was moved with many emotions at once; I was flushed and pale, I was astonished and incredulous, I was full of joy and sorrow. “Do you come bringing this letter from Hades?” I said to Satyrus, “or what docs this mean?
Has Leucippe come to life again?”— “She has,” he replied, “and it was she whom you saw at the country place. No one would recognise her in that case, looking, as she did, like a boy — the cutting-off of her hair had alone so changed her.”
“Do you stop there,” I cried, “at such good news, bringing these good tidings to my ears only, without also delighting my eyes by the sight of her?”— “Stay,” said Satyrus, “take no rash action, lest you ruin us all, until we have been able to decide upon some safe course in this matter. You see here a woman, one of the greatest among the Ephesians, doting upon you, and us without help in the midst of the toils.”
“I cannot,” I replied;— “joy is coursing through all the veins of my body. Look, she reproaches me in the letter she has written.” As I spoke I went through it again, imagining that I could see her in it, and as I read it sentence by sentence, I exclaimed: “Your reproaches are just, my darling. All your sufferings have been for me; I am the cause of all your woes.” And when I came to the account of the scourges and the torments which Sosthenes had inflicted upon her, I wept as though I could myself see the tortures; consideration so fixed the eyes of my soul upon the message conveyed by the writing that the scene seemed positively enacted before me. I blushed deeply at the reproaches she heaped upon me in the matter of my marriage, just as if I had been caught in the very act of adultery; so ashamed did her letter make me.
20. “Alas, Satyrus,” said I, “how shall I make my excuses to her? I am caught. Leucippe has condemned me, and perhaps I have become the object of her hatred. But tell me, how was she saved, and whose body was it that we buried?”
“She will recount the whole story to you,” said Satyrus, “in due time; for the present it is your business to answer her and attempt to placate her. I swore to her that it was against your will that you had married your lady.”
“What?” said I, “Did you tell her that I was married? You have ruined me.”
“What nonsense! Does not the whole town know of your marriage?”
“I swear by Hercules, Satyrus, and by this my present good fortune, that it has been no marriage.”
“You are jesting, my friend; you pass the night with her.”
“I know that I am telling you what seems incredible, but nothing has yet happened: to this day Clitophon is chaste as far as Melitte is concerned. But tell me what to write; I am so stupefied by what has happened that I am all at a loss.”
“I am certainly no better scholar than you,” said Satyrus: “surely it is Love himself that will dictate. Only be quick about it.” So I began to write: —
Clitophon to Leucippe, greeting.
Hail, my lady Leucippe! I am happy at the same moment that I am unhappy, because I find you present in your letter and yet still absent from me. If you mill wait for the truth, not condemning me in advance, you will find that I have imitated your virginity, if there be any virginity in men; but if you have already begun to hate me, though I have had no chance of making my defence before you, I smear to you by the gods that have saved you that I will shortly make before you a full explanation of the whole matter. Farewell, my dearest, and think kindly of me.
21. I handed the letter to Satyrus, and asked him to put my case before her in a favourable light; I then returned to the banquet, full both of delight and distress, as I knew that in the approaching night Melitte would not permit that our marriage should fail to be consummated, and it was quite impossible for me, with Leucippe once again restored to me, even to look at another woman. However, I tried to preserve my expression unaltered from what it was before; but I could not entirely control my emotions, and, as I felt them becoming too strong for me, I pretended that I felt a s
hivering creeping through me. She suspected that I was making preliminaries to evade my promise; but she was unable at present to prove that this preliminary was but a pretext. I then arose from the table without my dinner, saying that I must retire to bed; she also instantly leapt to her feet and followed me, leaving the meal half-eaten. When we arrived at my bed-chamber, I made a still further pretence of indisposition; but she importuned me the more, saying: “Why do you do this? How long are you going thus to break my heart? We have finished our sea-journey; here is Ephesus, the place promised for the completion of our marriage. For what day are we waiting now? How long are we to spend our nights as if we were in church? You set before my eyes a fair river and then forbid me to drink. All this time I have water to hand, and yet I thirst, though I sleep at the water’s very fount; my bed is like the banquet of Tantalus.” Thus she spoke and wept, laying her head on my bosom so very pitiably that I really felt my heart to some extent moved with sympathy for her. I was in great confusion, particularly as I could not but admit that her reproaches were just. I therefore said to her: “I swear to you, my dearest, by the gods of my fathers, that I too am equally anxious with you to return your passion. But I do not know,” said I, “what is the matter with me. Some sudden illness has come upon me, and you know that love without sound health is worse than nothing.” While I spoke, I kept wiping away her tears, and I vowed with new oaths that it should not be long before she should obtain that which she desired. Then, and only with difficulty, did she consent to refrain.
22. On the morrow she sent for the serving-maids to whom she had entrusted the care of Leucippe, and asked them first of all whether they had attended her with all skill and care; when they answered that she had lacked nothing of all that was necessary, she ordered that she should be brought before her. On her arrival, “I need not recount to you,” she said, “because you already know, the kindness that I have felt toward you; now, as far as you are able, reward me with an equal favour. I understand that you Thessalian (It was a common-place of classical literature (e g in the Golden Ass of Apuleius) that the women of Thessaly were skilful witches, particularly in love a affairs.) women, when you fall in love, are able to conjure in such a way that your lover never inclines to any other woman, and is so firmly attached to the woman who has bewitched him that he considers her his all-in-all. Now, dear woman, I am afire; prepare me this magic draught. Did you see that young man who was walking with me yesterday?”— “Do you mean your husband?” said Leucippe, interrupting her maliciously; “at least, I heard that he was such from the people of your household.”
“Husband indeed!” cried Melitte; “as good a husband as a stone would be! Some dead woman seems to be my successful rival: both at board and in bed he does not seem to be able to forget the name of Leucippe — that is what he calls her. I, my dear, have been spending four months at Alexandria for his sake, beseeching, importuning, promising — what did I leave unsaid or undone that I thought could please him? But to all my prayers he was just as if he was made of iron, or wood, or some other senseless thing. At last, and with great difficulty, I won him over; but then only as far as seeing goes — I swear to you by the goddess of love herself that it is now five days that I have slept by his side, and every time I have left his bed as though it had been that of an eunuch. I seem to have fallen in love with a statue — I have a lover who is nothing more than an eye-pleaser. Now I make to you the same prayer that you made to me yesterday, that a woman should pity a woman: give me something that will be effectual on this proud fellow. Thus you can save my breaking (The Greek idiom is a little different: “flowing away,”
“melting.”) heart.” Leucippe, on hearing this, was naturally delighted that nothing further had passed between myself and Melitte. She said that, if leave were given her, she would look for the necessary herbs in the fields, and set off thither; for she thought that she would not be believed if she said that she had no knowledge of magic, and this was the reason, I suppose, that she promised to do her best. Melitte, through the action of hope alone, became somewhat more calm: the thought of future joys, even though they are not yet apparent, exercises a soothing effect by means of hope.
23. I knew nothing of all this, and was in great distress; I was wondering how to put off Melitte for the coming night, and how I could manage to meet Leucippe face to face, who seemed to be aiming at the same object, in going, in a carriage provided by Melitte, into the country and returning towards evening. (The text is here corrupt, and one or two words must certainly be lost. The translation represents the sense of the passage, though even so it is inconsistent with ch xxvi. § 12, where Melitte says that Leucippe (instead of returning to Ephesus in the evening) was to spend the night in the country gathering the magic herbs by moonlight.) We were now coming to the time for taking wine, and had but just sat down to it, when a great shouting and sound of running about arose in the men’s quarters, and a servant came running in, panting, and crying out: “Thersander is alive and here!” Now this Thersander was Melitte’s husband, believed by her to have perished at sea: some of the servants, who happened to be with him when his boat was overturned, had afterwards been saved, and, thinking that he had perished, had spread the report of his death. The servant was still speaking when Thersander rushed in close on his heels: he had heard all about me on his way back, and was hurrying so as to be sure to catch me. Melitte jumped up, thunderstruck at the strangeness of the situation, and made as if to embrace her husband; but he thrust her violently from him, and, seeing me, “There is the gallant,” he cried; he leaped at me and struck me on the forehead a blow full of fury. He then seized me by the hair, bore me to the floor, and, falling upon me, rained blows on me. I knew as little as though I were at the celebration of some secret mystery who the man was or why he was beating me; though, suspecting that there was something wrong, I was afraid to defend myself, though I could have done so. When he grew tired of pounding me (and I of my reasoning), I rose and said: “Who are you, sir, and why have you assaulted me in this way?” He was still more angry at my speech and struck me again, and then called for chains and fetters; his servants bound me and threw me into a closet.
24. While all this was happening, I did not observe that I had dropped Leucippe’s letter: I had happened to have fastened it under my coat to the border of my shirt. Melitte privately picked it up, fearing that it was one of her letters to me. When she was alone she read it, and directly she found the name of Leucippe, she was cut to the heart on recognizing the name; she never guessed that the woman could be she, as she had heard so often that she had perished. When she went on and finished the rest of what was written, and so learned the whole truth, her heart was the scene of conflicting emotions — shame, and anger, and love, and jealousy.
She felt shame as regarded her husband, and anger at the letter: love made her anger inclined to cool, while jealousy fired her love, though love was in the end victorious.
25. It was now towards evening; Thersander, in his first fit of rage, had rushed out to the house of one of his friends who lived close by. Melitte addressed herself to the man to whom had been entrusted the charge of watching over me, and came secretly to me, setting a couple of her servants at the door to watch. She found me lying on the ground, and, as she stood over me, she seemed to design to give utterance to all her thoughts at once: in the expression of her face gleamed all the different emotions to which she would have liked to give vent in speech. “How wretched am I,” she said, “who saw you first to my own undoing, who loved with a love that had no fulfilment and was mere folly, who was hated and love him that hated me, who was wounded and pity him that wounded me; and even the insults I have suffered do not extinguish my love. A fine pair you are of magicians, male and female, working your arts against me: one of you was laughing at me the whole time, while the other went off to bring me a love-philtre — I, poor I, did not know that I was begging for a magical drug, to be used against myself, from my deadliest enemies.” As she spoke, she thre
w down Leucippe’s letter in front of me; when I saw it and recognised what it was, I shuddered, and kept my eyes fixed on the ground like a man caught in the commission of some crime. Then she went on again in the same emotional style: “Wretched, wretched woman that I am! I have lost my husband for you, and now, after this, I may not even possess you to the extent of seeing you, which is as much pleasure as you have yet vouchsafed me; I know that my husband has come to hate me, and has believed me guilty of adultery on your account — a fruitless, pleasureless adultery, from which my only gain has been abuse. Other women at least obtain as a reward of their shame the pleasurable satisfaction of their desires; I have reaped the shame well enough, poor I, but have nowhere found the pleasure. Faithless, savage wretch! How could you bear to see a woman thus pining away for love, when you too were Love’s slave? Did you not fear his wrath? Had you no apprehension of his fire? No respect for his mysteries? Could not these weeping eyes of mine melt you? More brutal than a pirate! A pirate is at least moved by tears. Could nothing rouse you even to one trance of love, not my prayers, not the time you spent in my company, not our mutual embrace, breast to breast? No, and what is of all the most cruel insult to me, you have clung to me and kissed me, and then risen from my side as passionless as another woman. What is this wretched shadow of a marriage? It was not as if your mate had been an old woman or one who rejected your embraces; I am young and inclined to love, and anybody else would say that I was fair. Miserable eunuch — woman-man — beauty’s wet-blanket (βάσκανα: impotence is supposed to be in a special degree due to magic. The frigidi ad venerem are regularly called in mediaeval Latin maleficiati.); I call down upon you the justest curse of all: may Love requite you in your passions the same treatment that you have meted out to mine.” Thus she spoke, and at the same moment burst into tears.
Complete Works of Achilles Tatius Page 12