The spectators watched the scene with breathless interest; but it was an exhibition that was scarcely suited to Greek taste. A Greek could be even horribly cruel on occasions, but a cruel spectacle—and spectacles that depend for their[Pg 76] attraction on the danger to the performer are critically cruel—offended their artistic taste. The company began to feel a little uneasy, and Euctemon finally interrupted the festival when after the second leap had been sucessfully accomplished he signed to the flute-player to cease her music.

[Pg 76]

“Child,” he said to the dancer, “Aphrodite and the graces would never forgive me, if you were to come to any harm in my house. It is enough; you have shown us that no one could be more skilful or more graceful than you.”

The boy and girl now performed together in what was called the Pyrrhic or war dance. Each carried a light shield and spear, made of silvered tin. They represented two warriors engaged in single combat. Each took in turn the part of the assailant and the assailed, the one darting forward the spear which had been carefully made incapable of doing any harm, the other either receiving the blow upon his shield or avoiding it with agile movements of the body.[32] The flute-player accompanied the dance with a very lovely and spirited tune, while the company looked on with the greatest admiration, so agile, so dexterous, and so invariably graceful were the motions of the two dancers.

When the boy and girl had retired, and while the guests were again devoting themselves to the wine, Callias was accosted by a neighbor with whose handsome features, characterized as they were by a gravity not often seen in young Athenians, he was familiar, though he did not happen ever to have made his acquaintance.

“I am about to retire,” said the stranger, “and if I may[Pg 77] presume so far, I would recommend you to do the same. Our host is hospitable and generous, and has other virtues which I need not enumerate; but his entertainments are apt to become after a certain hour in the night such as no modest young man—and such from your face I judge you to be—would willingly be present at. So far we have had an excellent and blameless entertainment; but why not depart. What say you?”

[Pg 77]

“That I am ready to go with you,” answered Callias. “My friend Ctesiphon brought me hither, and I know nothing of our host except the report of his riches and liberality.” “What! are you going?” cried the 

 Prev. P 50/228 next