Book 1

1.1. I, Chariton of Aphrodisias, secretary to the orator Athenagoras, am about to relate a love story that took place in Syracuse. Hermocrates, the general of the Syracusans, the man who defeated the Athenians, had a daughter named Callirhoe, a marvel of a girl and the glory of all Sicily.

1.2. For her beauty was not human but divine, and not that of a Nereid or a mountain nymph but of Aphrodite herself. Word of this astonishing sight ran everywhere, and suitors poured into Syracuse, princes and the sons of tyrants, not from Sicily alone but from Italy and Epirus and the islands off Epirus as well.

1.3. But Love wished to join a couple of his own choosing. There was a young man named Chaereas, handsome, surpassing all others, such as sculptors and painters represent Achilles and Nireus and Hippolytus and Alcibiades. His father was Ariston, the second man in Syracuse after Hermocrates. And there was a certain political rivalry between the two families, so that they would sooner have made a marriage alliance with anyone else than with each other.

1.4. But Love is fond of strife and delights in unexpected triumphs, and he looked for an occasion of this kind. There was a public festival of Aphrodite, and nearly all the women went to her temple.

1.5. Callirhoe had not been out of doors until then, but her mother brought her forward, since Hermocrates had ordered her to make her devotions to the goddess. At that very moment Chaereas was walking home from the wrestling-grounds, shining like a star; for the flush of the palaestra blossomed on the brightness of his face like gold upon silver.

1.6. So by chance, meeting at a rather narrow turning, they ran into each other, the god having arranged this encounter so that each might be seen by the other. At once they exchanged a passion of love . . .

1.7. Chaereas could barely make his way home with his wound, like a brave man struck by a mortal blow in battle, ashamed to fall yet unable to stand, for the beauty had pierced him to the heart. And the girl fell at the feet of Aphrodite and, kissing them, said, "Mistress, give me this man whom you have shown me."

1.8. A dreadful night came upon them both, for the fire was kindled. But the girl suffered the more grievously through her silence, ashamed to be found out. Chaereas, however, a young man of noble nature and high spirit, now that his body was wasting away, brought himself to tell his parents that he was in love and would not live unless he won marriage with Callirhoe.

1.9. His father groaned when he heard it and said, "You are lost to me, my child; for it is plain that Hermocrates would never give you his daughter when he has so many wealthy and royal suitors. You must not even make the attempt, lest we be openly insulted." So the father tried to comfort the boy, but his trouble only grew, until he no longer even went out to his usual haunts.

1.10. The gymnasium missed Chaereas and was as it were deserted, for the young men loved him. Inquiring closely into the cause, they learned of his sickness, and pity for the handsome youth came over them all, that he was in danger of perishing through a passion of his noble soul.

1.11. A lawful assembly was convened. The people, sitting in session, before anything else and as their only cry, shouted, "Noble Hermocrates, great general, save Chaereas! This shall be the first of your trophies. The city is suing for the marriage—

1.12. today—of two who are worthy of each other." Who could describe that assembly, of which Love himself was the popular leader? Hermocrates, a man who loved his city, could not refuse the city's plea. When he had given his assent, the whole people leapt up out of the theater, and the young men hurried off to Chaereas, while the council and the magistrates followed Hermocrates.

1.13. The women of Syracuse were also present at his house, escorting the bride. The wedding-hymn was sung throughout the city; the streets were full of garlands and torches; the doorways were sprinkled with wine and perfume. The Syracusans spent this day more joyfully than the day of their victory celebrations.

1.14. The girl, knowing nothing of all this, lay thrown upon her bed with her face covered, weeping and silent. Her nurse came to the couch and said, "Child, get up; the day most longed for by us all is here. The city is escorting you as a bride." At this her knees and her heart gave way, for she did not know to whom she was being married. At once she was speechless, and darkness poured over her eyes, and she almost gave up her breath; but those who saw it took this for modesty.

1.15. When the maidservants had quickly dressed her, the crowd left the doors, and the parents brought the bridegroom in to the girl. Chaereas ran forward and kissed her, and Callirhoe, recognizing her beloved, like the flame of a lamp already dying down when oil is poured upon it, blazed up again and grew greater and stronger.

1.16. When she came forth into public view, amazement seized the whole crowd, as when Artemis appears to hunters in a lonely place; and many of those present even fell down in worship. They all marveled at Callirhoe and counted Chaereas blessed. Just so the poets celebrate the wedding of Thetis, which took place on Pelion. Yet here too some malicious spirit was found, as they say Strife was found there.

2.1. For the suitors who had failed to win the marriage felt grief mingled with anger. Though until then they had been at odds with one another, now they were of one mind, and out of this concord, thinking themselves insulted, they came together to a common council; and it was envy that enlisted them for the war against Chaereas.

2.2. First a young Italian rose, the son of the tyrant of Rhegium, and spoke as follows: "If one of us had married her, I would not have been angry, just as in the athletic contests one of the competitors must win; but since the man who took no trouble at all for the marriage has outshone us, I cannot bear the insult.

2.3. We have worn ourselves out keeping watch before the courtyard doors, flattering nurses and maidservants and sending gifts to her attendants. How long we have been slaves! And, hardest of all, we have hated one another as rivals; while this whore-monger, this pauper, this man no better than anyone, when kings were competing, has carried off the crown without a struggle.

2.4. But let the prize do him no good, and let us make his marriage death to the bridegroom." All approved, except the tyrant of Acragas, who spoke against it. "It is not out of goodwill toward Chaereas," he said, "that I forbid the plot, but out of safer calculation. For remember that Hermocrates is not a man to despise; so open war against him is beyond us, but craft is the stronger course.

2.5. Indeed, it is by cunning rather than force that we win tyrannies. Elect me general for the war against Chaereas. I promise to break up the marriage; for I will arm jealousy against him, and jealousy, taking love as its ally, will work some great evil.

2.6. Now Callirhoe is steady and untouched by any malicious suspicion, while Chaereas, raised as he was in the gymnasium and not without experience of youthful faults, can easily be made to suspect and so fall into the jealousy of a lover; and it is easier, too, to approach him and to talk with him." While he was still speaking, they all voted for his proposal and put the business into his hands, as a man competent to contrive anything. And so he set about a scheme of this kind.

3.1. It was evening, and a man came with news that Ariston, Chaereas's father, had fallen from a ladder on the farm and had very little hope of life. When Chaereas heard it, though he loved his father, still he was grieved chiefly because he would have to go away alone; for it was not yet possible to take the girl out with him.

3.2. On that very night no one ventured to hold a revel openly, but men came in secret and unseen and left the signs of a revel: they garlanded the doorway, sprinkled it with perfumes, made mud of wine, and threw down half-burnt torches.

3.3. Day broke, and every passerby stopped, moved by that common impulse of curiosity. Chaereas, his father being now somewhat recovered, was hurrying to his wife. Seeing the crowd before the doors, at first he was astonished; but when he learned the cause, he rushed in beside himself.

3.4. Finding the bedchamber still locked, he beat upon it eagerly. When the maidservant opened, he fell upon Callirhoe, and his anger turned to grief, and tearing his clothes he wept. When she asked what had happened, he was speechless, unable either to disbelieve what he had seen or to believe what he did not wish to.

3.5. As he stood at a loss and trembling, his wife, suspecting nothing of what had happened, begged him to tell her the reason for his trouble. But he, with bloodshot eyes and a harsh voice, said, "I am weeping for my own fortune, because you have forgotten me so quickly," and he reproached her with the revel.

3.6. But she, as the daughter of a general and full of spirit, was stung by the unjust accusation and said, "No one held a revel at my father's house; but your doorway is perhaps used to revels, and your marriage grieves your lovers." With these words she turned away and, covering her face, let fall streams of tears.

3.7. But reconciliations come easily to lovers, and they gladly accept any excuse from each other. So Chaereas, changing his mood, began to coax her, and his wife quickly welcomed his repentance. This only inflamed their love the more, and the parents of both counted themselves blessed to see the harmony of their children.

4.1. The man from Acragas, his first device having failed, now turned to a more effective contrivance, something of this kind. He had a parasite, a smooth talker, full of every social charm. This man he ordered to play the part of a lover; for he set him to win the favor of Callirhoe's personal maid, the most valued of her attendants.

4.2. It was hard work, but at last he won the girl over with lavish gifts and by saying that he would hang himself if he did not get his desire. And a woman is easily caught when she thinks herself loved. Having thus laid his groundwork, the contriver of the drama found a second actor, no longer so charming, but cunning and convincing in speech.

4.3. Instructing this man beforehand in what he must do and say, he sent him to Chaereas as a stranger. The man approached him as he was idling about the wrestling-grounds and said, "I too had a son, Chaereas, of your own age, who greatly admired and loved you while he lived. Since his death I look on you as my own son, for you are a common blessing to all Sicily in your good fortune.

4.4. Give me, then, a little of your leisure, and you shall hear great matters that concern your whole life." With such words that vile man lifted up the boy's spirit and filled him with hope and fear and curiosity; and when Chaereas begged him to speak, he hesitated and made the excuse that the present moment was not suitable, that he needed delay and a longer leisure.

4.5. Chaereas pressed him the harder, now expecting something more serious; and the man, taking him by the right hand, led him off to a quiet place, then knitting his brows and looking like a man in distress, and shedding a few tears, said, "It is with reluctance, Chaereas, that I reveal to you a painful matter; I have long wished to speak but held back. But now that you are openly insulted and the dreadful thing is talked of everywhere, I cannot bear to keep silent; for by nature I hate wickedness, and I am especially well disposed toward you.

4.6. Know, then, that your wife is committing adultery, and so that you may believe it, I am ready to show you the adulterer in the very act." So he spoke; and a black cloud of grief enveloped Chaereas, and with both hands he took up the dark dust and poured it over his head, and disfigured his handsome face.

4.7. For a long while he lay speechless, unable to open his mouth or lift his eyes; but when he had gathered a voice, unlike his own and faint, he said, "It is an unhappy favor I ask of you, to be the eyewitness of my own misfortunes; yet show me, so that I may make away with myself the more reasonably. For I will spare Callirhoe even if she has wronged me."

4.8. "Pretend," said the man, "to go off to the farm, but late in the evening keep watch on the house; for you will see the adulterer go in." They agreed on this, and Chaereas, sending word—for he could not endure even to go in himself—said, "I am going off to the farm." But that malicious slanderer was arranging the scene.

4.9. So when evening came on, Chaereas went to his place of watch, and the other, having corrupted Callirhoe's maid, sent into the alley a man pretending to be one bent on secret deeds, but contriving everything so as not to go unnoticed. He had glistening hair and locks dripping with perfume, his eyes painted, a soft cloak, a delicate sandal; heavy rings glittered upon him. Then, after looking about him at length, he approached the door, knocked lightly, and gave the usual signal.

4.10. The maidservant, herself in great fear, quietly opened a little and, taking him by the hand, led him in. When Chaereas saw this, he could restrain himself no longer but rushed in to kill the adulterer in the very act.

4.11. But the man, who had taken his stand by the courtyard door, slipped out at once. Callirhoe, meanwhile, was sitting on the bed, longing for Chaereas, and had not even lit a lamp in her grief. When she heard the sound of footsteps, she was the first to recognize her husband's breathing, and rejoicing she ran to him.

4.12. But he had no voice with which to upbraid her, and overcome by his anger he kicked her as she came toward him. The foot, well aimed, struck against her diaphragm and stopped the girl's breath, and as she lay there the maidservants lifted her up and laid her on the couch.

5.1. So Callirhoe lay speechless and breathless, presenting to all the likeness of a corpse, while Rumor, the messenger of the calamity, ran through the whole city, raising a wail through the streets all the way to the sea; and on every side the lamentation was heard, and the thing was like the capture of a city. Chaereas, still seething with rage, shut himself in all night long and tortured the maidservants, the personal maid first and last.

5.2. While they were still being burned and cut, he learned the truth. Then pity came over him for the dead woman, and he longed to kill himself; but Polycharmus prevented him, a chosen friend such as Homer made Patroclus to Achilles. When day came, the magistrates drew lots for a court to try the killer, hastening the trial out of regard for Hermocrates.

5.3. And the whole people ran together into the marketplace, with different men shouting different things; and the disappointed suitors played the demagogue, and the man from Acragas above all the rest, brilliant and exultant, as one who had accomplished a deed that no one would have expected.

5.4. And a strange thing happened, such as had never before been done in a court of law: when the accusation had been delivered, the killer, with the water measured out to him, instead of making his defense accused himself more bitterly and was the first to cast the condemning vote, saying nothing of what justice would have allowed for his defense—not the slander, not the jealousy, not that the act was involuntary—but he begged them all: "Stone me to death in public; I have stripped the people of their crown.

5.5. It would be a kindness if you handed me over to the executioner. This I would have deserved to suffer even if I had killed a maidservant of Hermocrates. Seek out some unspeakable manner of punishment. I have done worse than temple-robbers and parricides. Do not bury me, do not defile the earth, but sink my impious body in the sea."

5.6. As he spoke, a wail broke out, and all, leaving the dead woman, mourned for the living man. Hermocrates was the first to speak in Chaereas's defense. "I know," he said, "that what happened was involuntary. I see those who are plotting against us. They shall not gloat over two corpses,

5.7. nor will I grieve my dead daughter. I have often heard her say that she wished Chaereas to live rather than herself. So let us put an end to this needless trial and proceed to the burial that cannot be avoided. Let us not surrender the dead woman to time, nor make the body unsightly by delay. Let us bury Callirhoe while she is still beautiful."

6.1. So the judges cast the acquitting vote, but Chaereas would not acquit himself; he longed for death and contrived every means to his end. Polycharmus, seeing there was no other way to save him, said, "Traitor to the dead woman, will you not even endure to bury Callirhoe? Do you entrust her body to other men's hands? Now is the time for you to see to the costliness of her burial and to prepare a royal funeral procession." This argument persuaded him,

6.2. for it instilled in him ambition and care. Who, then, could fittingly describe that funeral procession? Callirhoe lay clothed in bridal dress upon a gilded bier, greater and lovelier than ever, so that all likened her to the sleeping Ariadne.

6.3. Before the bier went first the Syracusan horsemen, themselves and their horses in full array; after these came hoplites bearing the standards of Hermocrates's trophies; then the council, and in the midst of the people all the citizens escorting Hermocrates as a bodyguard. Ariston too was carried along, still sick, calling Callirhoe his daughter and his mistress. After these came the women of the citizens, dressed in black,

6.4. then a royal wealth of grave-offerings: first the gold and silver of the dowry, the beauty and adornment of garments—and Hermocrates sent much from the spoils of war—and the gifts of kinsmen and friends, and last the wealth of Chaereas; for he longed, if it were possible, to burn up his whole estate with his wife.

6.5. The young men of Syracuse bore the bier, and the multitude followed. While all were lamenting, Chaereas was heard above the rest. There was a magnificent tomb of Hermocrates near the sea, so that it was conspicuous even to those sailing far off at sea; this, like a treasury, the costliness of the grave-offerings filled. But what seemed to have been done in honor of the dead woman set in motion the beginning of greater events.

7.1. There was a man named Theron, a scoundrel, who sailed the sea out of wickedness and kept pirates lurking about the harbors. Under the name of a ferryboat he was assembling a pirate band; and being present at the funeral, he cast a covetous eye on the gold, and at night could not sleep upon his bed, saying to himself, "Here am I, risking my life in fighting the sea and killing living men for small gains, when it is possible to grow rich from a single corpse. Let the die be cast; I will not let the profit go. But whom shall I enlist for the venture? Consider, Theron, which of the men you know is fit. Zenophanes of Thurii? Shrewd, but a coward. Menon of Messene? Bold, but a traitor." Running over each in his mind, like an assayer of silver, and rejecting many, he nevertheless settled on certain suitable men. At dawn, then, hurrying down to the harbor, he sought each one out. He found some in brothels, others in taverns—an army fit for such a general. Saying he had something necessary to discuss with them, he led them off behind the harbor and began this speech: "I have found a treasure, and out of all men I chose you as my partners; for the profit is not for one man, nor does it call for much labor, but a single night can make us all rich. We are not without experience of such enterprises, which among foolish men have a bad name but give profit to the sensible." They understood at once that he was proposing piracy or tomb-robbing or temple-robbing, and they said, "Stop—you are dealing with men already convinced; only tell us the deed, and let us not waste the moment." Theron, taking up the thread, said, "You have seen the gold and silver of the dead woman. This would more justly belong to us, the living. I propose that we open the tomb by night, then load the goods aboard the cutter, sail wherever the wind takes us, and sell off the cargo in a foreign land." It pleased them. "For now," he said, "go off to your usual haunts; but late in the evening let each man come down to the cutter, bringing a builder's tool."

8.1. So they were busy with these things; but as for Callirhoe, she experienced a kind of second rebirth, and when, after her starvation, some relaxation came to her arrested breathing, she revived slowly and little by little. Then she began to move her body limb by limb, and opening her eyes she had the sensation of one waking from sleep, and she called for Chaereas as though he lay beside her.

8.2. But when neither her husband nor the maidservants answered, and all was desolation and darkness, a shudder and trembling seized the girl, who could not by reasoning grasp the truth. Slowly rousing herself, she touched the garlands and ribbons and made a clinking of gold and silver; and there was a strong fragrance of spices.

8.3. Then she remembered the kick and the fall it had caused, and at last, out of her agony, she understood the tomb. She broke into a cry, as loud as she could: "Save me, help me!" But when, though she cried out many times, nothing more came of it, she now despaired of rescue and, sinking her head upon her knees, she lamented, saying, "Alas for my miseries! I have been buried alive, though I have done no wrong, and I am dying a lingering death.

8.4. They are mourning me while I am in good health. Whom will anyone send as a messenger? Unjust Chaereas, I blame you not because you killed me, but because you hastened to cast me out of the house. You should not have buried Callirhoe so quickly, and not truly dead. But already, perhaps, you are planning another marriage."

9.1. And while she was thus in her varied laments, Theron, waiting for the very middle of the night, came up noiselessly to the tomb, touching the sea lightly with his oars. Stepping out, he first assigned each man his task.

9.2. He sent four to keep watch, in case anyone should approach the place—to kill them if they could, and if not, to signal their arrival by a sign; and he himself made the fifth to go up to the tomb. The rest—for they were sixteen in all—he ordered to remain on the cutter and to keep the oars poised, so that, if anything sudden should happen, they might quickly snatch up the men from the land and sail away.

9.3. When the crowbars had been brought up and a more violent blow struck to break open the tomb, Callirhoe was seized all at once by everything—fear, joy, grief, wonder, hope, disbelief. "Where is the sound from? Is some divinity, by the common law of the dying, coming for me in my wretchedness? Or is it not a sound, but the voice of those beneath the earth calling me to them? It is more likely to be tomb-robbers; for this too has been added to my misfortunes: wealth is useless

9.4. to a corpse." While she was still reasoning thus, the robber thrust in his head and slowly crept inside. Callirhoe fell at his feet, wishing to make her plea; and he, terrified, leapt out and, trembling, cried to his comrades, "Let us flee from here; for some divinity guards the place within and will not let us enter." Theron laughed at him,

9.5. calling him a coward and more dead than the dead woman, and then he ordered another to go in. When no one would, he himself went in, holding his sword before him. As the iron flashed, Callirhoe, afraid she would be killed, stretched herself into the corner and from there entreated him, sending out a faint voice: "Have pity, whoever you are, on one who has not been pitied by husband or parents; do not kill her whom you have saved."

9.6. At this Theron took more courage, and as a clever man he understood the truth. He stood thoughtful, and at first he resolved to kill the woman, thinking she would be an obstacle to the whole enterprise; but a swift change of mind came over him because of the profit, and he said to himself, "Let her too be part of the grave-offerings; there is much silver here and much gold, but more precious than all these

9.7. is the beauty of the woman." So, taking her by the hand, he led her out, and then, calling his confederate, he said, "Look—here is the divinity you were afraid of. A fine pirate you are, to be frightened by a woman. You, then, guard her; for I wish to give her back to her parents. We will carry out what is stored inside, now that not even the dead woman is keeping it any longer."

10.1. When they had filled the cutter with the spoils, Theron ordered the guard to withdraw a little with the woman; then he put before them a deliberation about her. And their opinions were divided and at variance with one another.

10.2. For the first to speak said, "We came for other ends, comrades, but something better has befallen us from fortune; let us make use of it, for we can do the thing without danger. I propose that we leave the grave-offerings where they are, but give Callirhoe back to her husband and father, saying that we put in at this place by our usual fishing custom, and hearing a voice we opened the tomb out of humanity, to save the woman shut up inside.

10.3. Let us make the woman swear to bear witness to everything for us. She will gladly do it, owing gratitude to her benefactors, through whom she was saved. With how much joy do you think we will fill all Sicily? How many gifts will we receive? And at the same time we will be doing what is just toward men and pious toward the gods."

10.4. While he was still speaking, another contradicted him: "Untimely fool, do you now bid us play the philosopher? Has tomb-robbing made us virtuous? Shall we pity her whom her own husband did not pity but killed? For she has done us no wrong;

10.5. but she will do us the greatest wrong. For, first, if we give her back to her relatives, it is uncertain what view they will take of what has happened, and it is impossible that the reason we came to the tomb should not be suspected. And even if the woman's kinsmen grant us pardon, still the magistrates and the people themselves will not let off tomb-robbers who bring against themselves the evidence of their crime.

10.6. Perhaps someone will say it is more profitable to sell the woman, for we will find a price for her because of her beauty. But this too has its danger. Gold has no voice, nor will the silver say where we got it; for these we can invent a story.

10.7. But a piece of cargo that has eyes and ears and a tongue—who could keep that hidden? And the beauty, besides, is not human, so that we could escape notice. When we say she is a slave, who that has seen her will believe it? Let us kill her here, then, and not carry about with us the witness against ourselves."

10.8. When many agreed with these men, Theron put neither opinion to the vote. "You," he said, "bring on danger; and you throw away profit. But I will sell the woman rather than destroy her; for when she is being sold she will keep silent out of fear, but once sold let her accuse those who are not present. Come, embark; let us sail; for it is already near day."

11.1. The ship put out and ran on splendidly; for they did not have to struggle against wave and wind, since they had no particular course set before them, but every wind seemed favorable to them and stood astern. Theron tried to comfort Callirhoe, attempting to deceive her with various devices.

11.2. But she understood her own situation and that she had been saved to no purpose; yet she pretended not to understand but to believe him, fearing that they might even kill her if she seemed angry. Saying that she could not bear the sea, she covered her face and wept, and said, "You, father, in this very sea defeated three hundred ships of the Athenians, yet a little cutter has carried off your daughter, and you give me no help.

11.3. I am being taken to a foreign land, and I, the well-born, must be a slave; and perhaps some Athenian master will buy the daughter of Hermocrates. How much better it would have been for me to lie dead in the tomb! At least Chaereas would have been buried with me; but as it is, both living and dead we have been parted."

11.4. So she was in such laments, while the pirates sailed past little islands and cities; for the cargo was not of the poor, and they were looking for wealthy men. They put in opposite Attica, under a headland; there was a spring there of much pure water, and a fine meadow.

11.5. There they brought Callirhoe out and bade her freshen herself and rest a little from the sea, wishing to preserve her beauty; and by themselves they deliberated where they should direct their voyage. And one of them said, "Athens is near, a great and prosperous city. There we will find a multitude of merchants and a multitude of rich men. For just as in a marketplace one sees men, so in Athens one sees cities." It seemed good to all to sail into Athens,

11.6. but Theron did not like the meddlesomeness of the city. "Are you alone unaware," he said, "of the inquisitiveness of the Athenians? They are a talkative and litigious people, and in the harbor a thousand informers will ask who we are and where we are carrying this cargo from. A wicked suspicion will seize the malicious.

11.7. The Areopagus is right there, and magistrates harsher than tyrants. Let us fear the Athenians more than the Syracusans. A suitable place for us is Ionia, for there is royal wealth there, flowing down from greater Asia above, and the people are luxurious and free from care; and I expect to find some acquaintances there too."

11.8. So, having taken on water and provisions from the merchant ships at anchor, they sailed straight for Miletus, and on the third day they put in at an anchorage eighty stades distant from the city, very well suited for a landing.

12.1. There Theron ordered the oars to be carried out and a resting-place to be made for Callirhoe, and everything provided for her comfort. This he did not out of kindness but out of greed for gain, as a merchant rather than a pirate. He himself hurried off to the town, taking two of his companions with him. Then he did not openly set about looking for a buyer or making the matter notorious, but secretly and underhandedly he pressed on with the sale. It proved hard to manage; for the property was not one for many men, nor for any ordinary buyer, but for some rich man, even a king, and he was afraid to approach such people.

12.2. So as the delay grew longer, he could no longer endure the procrastination; and when night came on he could not sleep, but said to himself, "You are a fool, Theron; for you have now left silver and gold for so many days in a deserted place, as though you were the only pirate.

12.3. Do you not know that other pirates also sail the sea? And I am afraid of our own men, lest they abandon us and sail away; for surely you did not enlist the most honest of men, to keep faith with you, but the most wicked you knew.

12.4. For now," he said, "go to sleep, of necessity; but when day comes, run down to the cutter and throw into the sea this woman who is unseasonable and superfluous to you, and no longer take aboard a cargo that is hard to dispose of." But when he slept, he saw in a dream the doors locked.

12.5. So he decided to wait that day. And as he idled about, he sat at a workshop, his soul thoroughly troubled.

12.6. Meanwhile a throng of people went by, free men and slaves, and in the midst of them a man of mature age, dressed in black and gloomy. So Theron rose—for man's nature is inquisitive—and asked one of the attendants, "Who is this?" And the man answered, "You seem to me to be a stranger or to have come from far off, since you do not know Dionysius, who surpasses the other Ionians in wealth and birth and culture, a friend of the great King."

12.7. "Why, then, is he in black?" "Because his wife, whom he loved, has died." Theron clung the more to the conversation, having found a rich man fond of women. So he would not let the man go, but asked,

12.8. "What position do you hold with him?" And he answered, "I am steward of all his affairs, and I raise his daughter for him too, a young child, an infant orphaned before her time of her wretched mother." "What is your name?" "Leonas." "Opportunely, Leonas," he said, "have I met you. I am a merchant, and I am now sailing from Italy, so that I know nothing of affairs in Ionia. A woman of Sybaris, the most prosperous of the people there, owned a most beautiful maid and sold her out of jealousy, and I bought her.

12.9. The profit, then, shall be yours, whether you wish to keep her for yourself as nurse for the child—for she is well enough educated—or whether you think it worthy to make a gift of her to your master. It is more to your advantage that he should have a bought slave,

12.10. so that he may not bring in a stepmother for your foster-child." Leonas heard this gladly and said, "Some god has sent you down as my benefactor; for you show me in waking what I have been dreaming of. Come, then, to the house, and become at once my friend and guest; and the choice about the woman, whether the property is one for a master or for the likes of us, the sight of her shall decide."

13.1. When they came to the house, Theron marveled at its size and costliness—for it was furnished for the reception of the King of Persia—but Leonas bade him wait while he first attended to

13.2. the service of his master. Then, taking the man, he led him up to his own quarters, which were very gentlemanly, and ordered a table to be set. And Theron, like the scoundrel he was, skilled at adapting himself to every occasion, fell to the food and showed Leonas his goodwill with toasts, partly as a display of his frankness,

13.3. but more for the sake of partnership and trust. Meanwhile there was much conversation about the woman, and Theron praised the woman's character rather than her beauty, knowing that what is unseen needs advocacy, while the sight commends itself. "Let us go, then,"

13.4. said Leonas, "and show her to me." But he answered, "She is not here; for because of the customs-officers we kept clear of the city, and the ship lies eighty stades off," and he described the place. "It is in our own lands that you have anchored," he said, "and this is the better, since fortune is already leading you to Dionysius.

13.5. Let us go off, then, to the country estate, so that you may also recover yourselves from the sea; for the nearby villa has been built at great cost." Theron was the more pleased,

13.6. thinking the sale would be easier not in the marketplace but in a lonely place, and he said, "At dawn let us go off, you to the villa, I to the ship, and from there I will bring the woman to you." They agreed on this and, clasping right hands with each other, parted. To both the night seemed long, the one eager to buy, the other to sell.

13.7. On the next day Leonas sailed along to the villa, bringing silver as well, so that he might secure the merchant beforehand; and Theron came to the shore and to his confederates, who longed for him greatly, and having told them the business, he began to coax Callirhoe.

13.8. "I myself, daughter," he said, "wished at once to take you back to your own people; but a contrary wind arose and I was prevented by the sea. You know what care I have taken of you; and, the greatest thing, we have kept you pure. Chaereas will receive you unviolated, saved by us from the tomb as from a bridal chamber.

13.9. Now, then, it is necessary for us to run as far as Lycia; but it is not necessary that you too should suffer hardship in vain, and that being so seasick. Here, then, I will place you with faithful friends, and on my return I will take you back and with great care bring you at last to Syracuse. Take of your own whatever you wish; for the rest, too, we are keeping for you."

13.10. At this Callirhoe laughed to herself, though she was deeply grieved, and thought him an utter fool; for she knew already that she was being sold, yet she counted the sale a happier thing than her former noble state, wishing to be rid of the pirates. And she said, "I thank you, father, for your kindness toward me; and may the gods repay you all your due rewards.

13.11. But to use the grave-offerings I think ill-omened. Keep them all safe for me; for me a little ring is enough, which I had even when dead." Then, covering her head, she said, "Take me, Theron, wherever you wish; for any place is better than the sea and the tomb."

14.1. When Theron came near the villa, he devised something of this kind. Uncovering Callirhoe and loosing her hair, he opened the door and ordered her to go in first. Leonas and all those inside, when she appeared suddenly, were astonished, thinking they had seen a goddess; for there was a report in the countryside that Aphrodite showed herself there.

14.2. While they were thus astounded, Theron, following behind, came up to Leonas and said, "Rise and see to the reception of the woman; for this is she you wish to buy." Joy and wonder followed in all of them.

14.3. So they laid Callirhoe down in the finest of the rooms and let her rest; for she needed much repose after grief and toil and fear. And Theron, taking Leonas's right hand, said, "On my side everything has been faithfully fulfilled; do you now have the woman—for you are my friend henceforth—and come to the city and take the deed of sale, and then pay me the price,

14.4. whatever you wish." Wishing to make a return, Leonas said, "No, rather I too entrust the silver to you now, before the deed of sale," and at the same time he wished to secure the deal in advance, fearing that he might change his mind; for, he thought, there would be many in the city wanting to buy her.

14.5. So bringing out a talent of silver, he forced him to take it, and Theron, after some affected reluctance, took it. When Leonas was detaining him for dinner—for it was late in the day—he said, "I wish to sail to the city this evening, and tomorrow we will meet at the harbor."

14.6. On these terms they parted. Coming to the ship, Theron ordered the men to weigh anchor and put out as quickly as possible, before they should be discovered. And so they were running away wherever the wind carried them, and Callirhoe, now alone and at liberty, lamented her own fortune. "See," she said, "another tomb, in which Theron has shut me up, more desolate than the first;

14.7. for there my father might have come to me, and my mother, and Chaereas might have poured a libation with his tears; I would have known it even though dead. But whom shall I call upon here? You know it, envious Fortune. Through land and sea you have not been satisfied with my misfortunes, but first you made my lover my murderer—Chaereas, who never struck even a slave, gave me, who loved him, a mortal kick;

14.8. then you handed me into the hands of tomb-robbers and led me out of the tomb into the sea and set over me pirates more fearful than the waves. And this far-famed beauty I acquired only that Theron the pirate might get a great price for me.

14.9. In a deserted place I have been sold, and I was not even brought into a city, like other bought slaves; for you were afraid, Fortune, that someone seeing me might think me well-born. For this reason I have been handed over like a piece of goods I know not to whom—Greeks or barbarians or pirates again." Beating her breast with her hand, she saw on the ring the likeness of Chaereas, and kissing it she said, "Truly I am lost,

14.10. Chaereas, parted from you by so great a calamity. And you mourn and repent and sit beside an empty tomb, bearing witness after my death to my chastity, while I, the daughter of Hermocrates, your wife, have today been sold to a master." As she lamented thus, sleep at last came over her.