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THE SPARTAN TWINS
By Lucy Fitch Perkins
1918
CONTENTS
LIST OF CHARACTERS I. COMPANY AT THE FARM II. THE STRANGER'S STORYIII. THE SHEPHERDS IV. SOWING AND REAPING V. THE TWINS GO TO ATHENS VI. THE FESTIVAL OF ATHENAVII. HOME AGAIN
THE SPARTAN TWINS
_The Characters in this Story are_:--
MELAS, a Spartan living on the Island of Salamis, just off the coast ofGreece. He is Overseer on the Farm of Pericles, Archon of Athens.
LYDIA, Wife of Melas, and Mother of Dion and Daphne.
DION and DAPHNE, Twin Son and Daughter of Melas and Lydia.
CHLOE, a young slave girl, belonging to Melas and Lydia. She had beenabandoned by her parents when she was a baby, and left by the roadside todie of neglect or be picked up by some passer-by. She was found by Lydiaand brought up in her household as a slave.
ANAXAGORAS, "the Stranger," a Philosopher,--friend of Pericles.
PERICLES, Chief Archon of Athens.
LAMPON, a Priest.
A Priest of the Erechtheum.
DROMAS, LYCIAS, and Others, Slaves on the Farm of Pericles.
Time: About the middle of the Fifth Century B.C.
Plan of home of the Spartan Twins]
I
COMPANY AT THE FARM
One lovely spring morning long years ago in Hellas, Lydia, wife ofMelas the Spartan, sat upon a stool in the court of her house, with herwool-basket beside her, spinning. She was a tall, strong-looking youngwoman with golden hair and blue eyes, and as she twirled her distaff andtwisted the white wool between her fingers she sang a little song toherself that sounded like the humming of bees in a garden.
The little court of the house where she sat was open to the sky, and theafternoon sun came pouring over the wall which surrounded it, and made abrilliant patch of light upon the earthen floor. The little stones whichwere embedded in the earth to form a sort of pavement glistened in thesun and seemed to play at hide and seek with the moving shadow of Lydia'sdistaff as she spun. On the thatch which covered the arcade aroundthree sides of the court pigeons crooned and preened their feathers, andfrom a room in the second story of the house, which opened upon a littlegallery enclosing the fourth side of the court, came the _clack clack_ ofa loom.
As she spun, the shadow of Lydia's distaff grew longer and longer acrossthe floor until at last the sunlight disappeared behind the wall, leavingthe whole court in gray shadow.
Under the gallery a large room opened into the court. The embers of afire glowed dully upon a stone hearth in the center of this room, andbeyond, through an open door, fowls could be seen wandering about thefarm-yard. Suddenly the quiet of the late afternoon was broken by amedley of sounds. There were the bleating of sheep, and the tinkle oftheir bells, the lowing of cattle and the barking of a dog, the softpatter of bare feet and the voices of children.
Then there was a sudden squawking among the hens in the farm-yard,and through the back door, past the glowing hearth and into the court,rushed two children, followed by a huge shepherd dog. The children wereblue-eyed and golden-haired, like their Mother, and looked so big andstrong that they might easily have passed for twelve years of age, thoughthey really were but ten. They were so exactly alike that their Motherherself could hardly tell which was Dion and which was Daphne, and, asfor their Father, he didn't even try. He simply said whichever name camefirst to his lips, feeling quite sure that the children would always beable to tell themselves apart, at any rate. Daphne, to be sure, woreher chiton a little longer than Dion wore his, but when they were runningor playing games she often pulled it up shorter through her girdle, soeven that was not a sure sign.
Lydia looked from one of them to the other as the children came boundinginto the court, with Argos, the dog, barking and leaping about them, andsmiled with pride.
"Where have you been, you wild creatures?" she said to the twins, "Ihaven't seen you since noon," and "Down, Argos, down," she cried to thedog, who had put his great paws in her lap and was trying to kiss her onthe nose.
"We've been down in the field by the spring with Father," Dion shouted,"and Father is bringing a man home to supper!"
"Company!" gasped Lydia, throwing up her hands. "Whoever can it be atthis time of the day and in such an out of the way place as this? Andnothing but black broth ready for supper! I might have had a roastfowl at least if only I had known. Where are they now?"
"They are coming down the road," said Dion. "They stopped to see thesheep and cattle driven into the farm-yard. They'll be here soon."
Lydia thrust her distaff into the wool-basket by her side and rosehastily from her stool. "There's no time to lose," she said. "TheStranger will not wish to linger here if he expects to reach Ambelacato-night. It is a good two miles to the village, and he'll not find aboat crossing to the mainland after dark. I am sure of that,unlessperhaps he has one waiting for him there."
As she spoke, Lydia drew her skirt shorter through her girdle and startedfor the hearth-fire in the room beyond. "Shoo," she cried to the hens,which had followed the children into the house and were searchinghopefully for something to eat among the ashes, "you'll burn your toes aslike as not! Begone, unless you want to be put at once into the pot! Gofor them, Argos! Dion, you feed them. They'll be under foot until they'vehad their supper, and it's time they were on the roost this minute!Daphne, your face is dirty; go wash it, while I get the fire started andsee if I can't find something to eat more fitting to set before a guest."
While the children ran to carry out their Mother's orders, Lydia herselfseized the bellows and blew upon the embers of the fire. "By all theGods!" she cried, "there's not a stick of wood in the house." She droppedthe bellows and ran into the court. From the room above still came the_clack clack_ of the loom. Lydia looked up at the gallery of the secondstory and clapped her hands.
"Chloe, Chloe," she called. The clacking suddenly stopped, and a younggirl with black hair and eyes and red cheeks came out of the upper roomand leaned over the balcony rail.
"Did you want me?" she asked.
"Indeed I want you!" answered her mistress. "Company is coming to supperand there is nothing in the house fit to set before him! Hurry and bringsome wood. There's not even a fire!"
There was a sound of hasty footsteps on the stair, and Chloe disappearedinto the farm-yard. In a moment she was back again with a basket of wood,which she placed beside the hearth. Lydia knelt on the floor and laid thewood upon the coals. Then she blew upon them energetically with thebellows. Chloe knelt beside her and blew too, but not with bellows. Theashes flew in every direction.
"Mercy!" cried Lydia, "you've a breath like the blasts of winter! Youwill blow the sparks clear across the court and set fire to the thatch ifyou keep on! Come! Get out the oven and start a charcoal fire! We canbake barley-cakes, at least, and there are sausages in the store-room.See if there is fresh water in the water-jar."
"There isn't a drop, I know," said Daphne. "I took the last to wash myface."
"Was there ever anything like it?" cried Lydia. "Fresh water first ofall! Run at once to the spring, Chloe. I '11 get the oven myself. Daphne,you take the small water-jar and go with Chloe."
As Chloe and Daphne, with their water-jars on their shoulders, startedout of the back door for the spring, the door at the front of the courtopened, and Melas entered with a tall, bearded man wearing a long cloak.
The moment she heard the door move on its hinges, Lydia stood up straightand tall beside her hearth-fire, and, at a sign from her husband, cameforward to greet the Stranger.
"You are welcome," she said, "to such entertainment as our plain houseaffords. I could wish it were better for your sake."
"I shall be honored by your hospitality," said the Stranger politely,"and what is good enough for a farmer is surely good enough for aphilosopher, if I may call myself one."
"Though you are a philosopher, you are also, no doubt, an Athenian,"replied Lydia, "and it is known to all the world that the feast of theSpartan is but common fare for those who live delicately as the Atheniansdo."
"I bring an appetite that would make a feast of bread alone," answeredthe Stranger.
Melas, a tall brown-faced man with a brown beard, now spoke for the firsttime.
"There is no haste, wife," he said. "The Stranger will spend the nightunder our roof. It is not yet late. While you get supper, we will restbeneath the olive trees and watch the sun go down behind the hills."
"Until I can better serve you, then," Lydia replied; and the two men wentout again through the open door, and sat down upon a wooden bench whichcommanded a view of the little valley and the hills beyond.
Meanwhile, within doors, Lydia dropped the stately dignity of her companymanners and became once more the busy housewife. When Chloe and Daphnereturned from the spring, she had barley-cakes baking in the oven, andsausages were roasting before the hearth-fire. A kettle of broth steamedbeside it.
"How good it smells!" cried Dion, when he came in with Argos from thefarm-yard. "I could eat a whole pig myself. Do cook a lot of sausages,Mother. I am as hungry as a wolf."
"And you a Spartan boy!" said his Mother reprovingly. "You should thinkless of what you put in your stomach! Plain fare makes the strongest men.It is only polite to give a guest the best you have, but that's no excusefor being greedy and wanting to stuff yourself every day."
"Well, then," said Dion, "I wish Hermes, if he is the god who guidestravelers, would bring them this way oftener. I'd like to be a strongman, but I like good things to eat, too, and when we have company, wehave a feast."
His Mother did not answer him; she was too busy.
She sent Chloe to the closet for a jar of wine, and some goat's-milkcheese, and she herself went upstairs to get some dried figs from thestore-room. Daphne followed Chloe to the closet, and for a moment therewas no one beside the hearth-fire but Dion and Argos, and the sausagessmelled very good indeed.
"I wonder if she counted them," thought Dion to himself, as he lookedlongingly at them. And then almost before he knew it himself he hadsnatched one of the sausages from the fire and had bitten a piece off theend! It was so very hot that it burned both his fingers and his tonguelike everything, and when he tried to lick his fingers, he let go of thesausage, and Argos snapped it up and swallowed it whole. It burned allthe way down to his stomach, and Argos gave a dreadful howl of pain anddashed through the door out into the farm-yard. Dion heard his Mother'sfootsteps coming down the stair. He thought perhaps he'd better joinArgos.
When Lydia reached the hearth-fire once more, only Daphne was in theroom. She set down the basket of figs and knelt to turn the sausages. Shehad counted them and she saw at once that one was missing. She wasshocked and surprised, but she guessed what had become of it. Mothersare just like that. She rose from her knees and looked around for theculprit. She saw Daphne.
"You naughty boy!" she said sternly to Daphne. "What have you done withthat sausage?"
"I didn't do anything with it; I never even saw it," cried poor Daphne."And, besides that, I'm not a naughty boy. I'm not a boy at all! I'mDaphne!"
"Where's Dion, then?" demanded Lydia.
"I don't know where he is," said Daphne. "I didn't see him either, but Iheard Argos howl as if some one had stepped on his tail. Maybe he tookthe sausage."
Lydia went to the door and looked out into the farm-yard. Away off in thefarthest corner by the sheep-pen she saw two dark shadows.
"Come here at once," she called.
Dion and Argos both obeyed, but they came very slowly, and Argos had histail between his legs. Lydia pointed to the fire.
"Where is the other sausage?" she inquired, with stern emphasis.
"Argos ate it," said Dion.
"Open your mouth," said his Mother. She looked at Dion's tongue. It wasall red where it was burned.
"I suppose Argos took it off the fire and made you bite it when it washot," said Lydia grimly. "Very well, he is a bad dog and cannot have anysausage with his supper. And a boy that hasn't any more manners than adog can't have any either. And neither one can be trusted in the kitchenwhere things are cooking. Go sit on the wood-pile until I call you."
She put both Dion and Argos out of doors and turned to her cooking again.
"Supper is nearly ready," she called at last to Chloe. "You and Daphnemay bring out the couch and get the table ready."
Under the arcade in the court there was a small wooden table. Chloe andDaphne lifted it and brought it near the fire. Then they brought a plainwooden bench that also stood under the thatch and placed it beside thetable. They arranged cushions of lamb's wool upon the bench, and near thefoot set a low stool. Daphne brought the dishes, and when everything wasready, Lydia sent Chloe to call her husband and the Stranger, while sheherself went out to the farm-yard. She found Dion and Argos sitting sideby side on the wood-pile in dejected silence.
"Come in and wash your hands," she said to Dion. "If you get yourselfclean, wrists and all, you may have your supper with us, but remember, nosausage. You have had your fingers with your food." This is what mothersused to say to their children in those days, because there were no knivesor forks, and often not even spoons, to eat with.
Lydia didn't invite Argos in, but he came anyway, and lay down beside thefire with his nose on his paws, just where people would be most likely tostumble over him.
When Melas and the Stranger came in, they sat down side by side on thecouch. Chloe knelt before them, took off their sandals, and bathed theirfeet. Then the Stranger loosened his long, cloak-like garment, and he andMelas reclined side by side upon the couch, their left elbows restingon the lamb's-wool cushions. Chloe moved the little table within easyreach of their hands, and Lydia took her place on the stool beside thecouch. It was now quite dark except for the light of the hearth-fire.
The Twins had been brought up to be seen and not heard, especially whenthere was company, and as Dion was not anxious to call attention tohimself just then, the two children slipped quietly into their places onthe floor by the hearth-fire just as Melas and the Stranger dipped theirbread into their broth and began to eat.
It must be confessed that Melas seemed to enjoy the black broth muchmore than his guest did, but the stranger ate it nevertheless, and whenthe last drop was gone, the men both wiped their fingers on scraps ofbread and threw them to Argos, who snapped them up as greedily as if histongue had never been burned at all. Then Chloe brought the sausages hotfrom the fire, and barley-cakes from the oven. When she had served themen and had explained that these cakes were really not so good as herbarley-cakes usually were, Lydia gave the Twins each one, and she gaveDaphne a sausage. She just looked at Dion without a single word.
He knew perfectly well what she meant. He munched his barley-cake inmournful silence, and I suppose no sausage ever smelled quite so good toany little boy in the whole world as Daphne's did to Dion just then.However, there were plenty of barley-cakes, and his mother let him havehoney to eat with them, which comforted Dion so much that when theStranger began to talk to Melas, he forgot his troubles entirely. Heforgot his manners too, and listened with his eyes and mouth both wideopen until the honey ran off the barley-cake and down between hisfingers. Then he licked his fingers!
No one saw him do it, not even his Mother, because she too was watchingthe the inhabitants of the little farm. They lived so far from the sea,and so far from highways of travel on the island, that the Twins in alltheir lives had seen but few persons besides their own family and theslaves who worked on the farm. The Stranger was to them a visitor fromanother world--the great outs
ide world which lay beyond the shining bluewaters of the bay. They had seen that distant world sometimes from ahill-top on a clear day, but they had never been farther from homethan the little seaport of Ambelaca two miles away.
"How is it," the Stranger was saying to Melas, "that you, a Spartan, livehere, so far from your native soil, and so near to Athens? The Spartanshave but little love for the Athenians as a rule, nor for farming either,I am told."
"We love the Athenians quite as well as they love us," answered Melas;"and as for my being here, I have my father to thank for that. He was asoldier of the Persian Wars and settled here after the Battle of Salamis.I grew up on the island, and thought myself fortunate when I had a chanceto become overseer on this farm."
"Who is the owner of the farm?" asked the Stranger.
"Pericles, Chief Archon of Athens," answered Melas.
"You are indeed fortunate to be in his service," said the Stranger. "Heis the greatest man in Athens, and consequently the greatest man in theworld, as any Athenian would tell you!"
"Do you know him?" asked Dion, quite forgetting in his interest thatchildren should be seen and not heard.
Lydia shook her head at Dion, but the Stranger answered just as politelyas if Dion were forty years old instead of ten.
"Yes," he said, "I know Pericles well. I went with him only yesterday tosee the new temple he is having built upon the great hill of theAcropolis in Athens. You have seen it, of course," he said, turning toMelas.
"No," answered Melas. "I sell most of my produce in the markets of thePiraeus, and go to Athens itself only when necessary to take fruit andvegetables to the city home of Pericles. There is no occasion togo in the winter, and the season for planting is only just begun. Perhapslater in the summer I shall go."
"When you do," said the Stranger, "do not fail to see the new building onthe sacred hill. It is worth a longer journey than from here to Athens, Iassure you. People will come from the ends of the earth to see it someday, or I am no true prophet."
"Oh," murmured Daphne to Dion, "don't you wish we could go too?"
"You can't go. You're a girl!" Dion whispered back. "Girls can't do suchthings, but I'm going to get Father to take me with him the very nexttime he goes."
Daphne turned up her nose at Dion. "I don't care if I am a girl," shewhispered back. "I'm no Athenian sissy that never puts her nose out ofdoors, I can do everything you can do here on the farm, and I guess Icould in Athens too. Besides, no one would know I'm a girl; I look justas much like a boy as you do. I look just like you."
"You do not," said Dion resentfully. "You can't look like a boy."
"Ail right," answered Daphne, "then you must look just like a girl, foryou know very well Father can't tell us apart, so there now."
Dion opened his mouth to reply, but just then his Mother shook her headat them, and at the same moment Chloe, coming in with the wine-jar,stumbled over Argos and nearly fell on the table. Argos yelped, andDion and Daphne both laughed. Lydia was dreadfully ashamed because Chloehad been so awkward, and ashamed of the Twins for laughing. Sheapologized to the Stranger.
"Oh, well," said the Stranger, and he laughed a little too, even if hewas a philosopher, "boys will be boys, and those seem two fine stronglittle fellows of yours. One of these days they'll be competing in theOlympian games, I suppose, and how proud you will be if they should bringhome the wreath of victors!"
"They are as strong as the young Hercules, both of them," Melas answered,"but one is a girl, so we can hope to have but one victor in the familyat best."
"Perhaps two would make you over proud," said the Stranger, smiling, "soit may be just as well that one is a girl, after all."
Dion sat up very straight at these words, but Daphne hung her head. "I dowish I were a boy too," she said, "they can do so many things a girl isnot allowed to do. They get the best of everything."
"That must be as the Gods will," said the Stranger kindly. "And Spartanwomen have always been considered just as brave as men, even if theyaren't quite as big. Anyway, some of us have to be women because we can'tget along without women in the world."
Two bright spots glowed in Lydia's cheeks, and she twirled her distafffaster than ever. "I should think not, indeed," she said. "Men aren'tmuch more fit to take care of themselves than children!"
Melas and the Stranger laughed, and the Stranger turned to Daphne.
"Don't you remember, my little maid, how glad Epimetheus was to welcomePandora, even if she did bring trouble into the world with her?" heasked.
"No," said Daphne, "I don't know about Pandora. Please tell us abouther!"
Lydia rose and glanced up at the stars. "It's getting near bed-time," shesaid to the Twins; and to the Stranger she added, "You must excuse theboldness of my children. They are brought up so far out of the world theyscarcely understand the reverence due men like yourself. You must notpermit them to impose upon your kindness."
"I will gladly tell them about Pandora if you are willing," said theStranger. "The fine old tales of Hellas should be the birthright of everychild. They will live so long as there are children in the world to hearthem and old fellows like myself to tell them."
"If you will be so gracious then," said Lydia, "but first let us prepareourselves to listen."
She signed to Chloe, who immediately brought a basin and towel to theStranger and Melas. When they had washed their hands, she carried awaythe basin and swept the crumbs into the fire, while Lydia filled cupswith wine and water and set them before her husband and his guest. Thenwood was piled upon the fire, and Lydia seated herself beside it oncemore with her distaff and wool-basket, while Chloe crept into the shadowbehind her mistress's chair, and the Twins drew nearer to her footstool.When everything was quiet once more, the Stranger lifted his wine-cup.
"Since we are in the country," he said, "we will make our libation toDemeter, the Goddess of the fields. May yours be fruitful, with herblessing." He poured a little wine on the earthen floor as he spoke.There was a moment of reverent silence. Then while the flames of thehearth danced upward toward the sky and the stars winked down from above,the Stranger began his story.