Book 4

1.1. So Callirhoe spent that night in laments, mourning Chaereas while he was still alive; and dozing off for a little while she saw in a dream a band of barbarian pirates bringing fire, a trireme in flames, and herself running to help Chaereas.

1.2. Dionysius was grieved to see his wife wasting away, lest some of her beauty be lost to her, but he supposed it to be to the advantage of his own love that she should give up her former husband for good.

1.3. Wishing, then, to show affection and magnanimity, he said to her, "Rise, woman, and prepare a tomb for the poor man. Why do you strive after impossible things, but neglect what is necessary? Imagine him standing over you and saying, 'Bury me as quickly as may be, that I may pass the gates of Hades.' For even if the body of the unfortunate man has not been found, still this is an ancient custom of the Greeks, to honor with tombs even those who cannot be found."

1.4. He persuaded her quickly, for the advice was to her liking. So when occupation fell upon her, her grief abated, and rising from her bed she looked about for a place in which to make the tomb. It pleased her to have it near the temple of Aphrodite, so that those of later times too might have a memorial of her love.

1.5. But Dionysius grudged Chaereas the neighborhood and kept that place for himself. So, wishing at the same time to keep the occupation going longer, he said, "Let us go, woman, to the city, and there, before the city, let us build a high and conspicuous tomb, that it may be seen from afar by men out at sea. The harbors of Miletus are fine, and the Syracusans too often put in there. So among your fellow-citizens too your generosity will not lack renown."

1.6. This proposal pleased Callirhoe, and for the time she checked her haste; but when she came to the city, on a high beach she began to build a tomb, in everything like her own in Syracuse—the shape, the size, the costliness—and this one too, like that, for a living man. When, with lavish expense and many hands, the work was quickly finished, then at last she also imitated the funeral procession held over it.

1.7. For a fixed day was announced beforehand, and to it came not only the multitude of the Milesians but of nearly all Ionia. And two satraps too were present, who happened to be staying there at the time, Mithridates of Caria and Pharnaces of Lydia.

1.8. The pretext was to honor Dionysius, but the truth was to see Callirhoe. For the fame of the woman was great over all Asia, and the name of Callirhoe was rising even to the great King, such as not even that of Ariadne or Leda. But on that day she proved greater than her reputation; for she came forth in black, with her hair loosed; and flashing in her face and baring her arms she appeared more than the White-Armed and the Fair-Ankled of Homer.

1.9. Not one even of the others could endure the dazzling brightness of her beauty, but some turned away, as when a sunbeam falls upon them, and worshipped. Even children were affected. But Mithridates, the governor of Caria, fell down speechless, like a man struck unexpectedly by a sling-stone, and his attendants could barely support and carry him.

1.10. In the procession there was carried a portrait of Chaereas, fashioned after the seal on the ring; but although the image was very beautiful, no one looked at it while Callirhoe was present, but she alone won over the eyes of all.

1.11. How could anyone fittingly describe the close of the procession? For when they came near the tomb, those carrying the bier set it down, and Callirhoe, mounting upon it, threw herself upon Chaereas and, kissing the image, said, "You buried me first in Syracuse,

1.12. and I in turn bury you in Miletus. For our misfortunes are not only great but strange: we have buried each other. And neither of us even has the other's corpse. Envious Fortune, even in death you have grudged us to be laid in common earth, and you have made even our corpses exiles." The crowd broke into lamentation, and all pitied Chaereas, not because he was dead, but because he had been deprived of such a wife.

2.1. So Callirhoe was burying Chaereas in Miletus, while Chaereas in Caria was working in bonds. Digging the ground, he was quickly worn out; for many things weighed upon him—toil, neglect, his fetters, and more than these, his love. He wished to die, but a slender hope would not let him, that perhaps he might one day see Callirhoe.

2.2. So Polycharmus, his friend taken captive with him, seeing that Chaereas could not work but was receiving blows and being shamefully abused, said to the overseer of the work, "Mark off for us a portion of our own, so that you may not charge against us the idleness of the other prisoners; and we will render our own measure by

day." He was persuaded and granted it.

2.3. And Polycharmus, being a young man of manly nature and not enslaved to love, a harsh tyrant, worked the two portions almost by himself alone, gladly taking the larger share of the labor, in order to save his friend.

2.4. So these men were in such misfortunes, learning their loss of freedom late; but Mithridates the satrap returned to Caria not such as he had set out for Miletus, but pale and thin, as having a wound in his soul, warm and sweet.

2.5. Wasting away with love of Callirhoe, he would certainly have died, had he not met with some such consolation as this. Some of the laborers bound together with Chaereas—they were sixteen in number, shut up in a dark hut—broke through their fetters by night, cut the overseer's throat, and then attempted to flee.

2.6. But they did not escape, for the dogs on guard betrayed them. So, caught that night, they were all bound more carefully in the stocks, and by day the steward reported the affair to his master; and he, without even seeing them or hearing their defense, at once ordered the sixteen hut-mates to be crucified.

2.7. So they were led out bound together by the feet and necks, and each of them carried his own cross; for to the necessary punishment those who carried it out added the gloomy external spectacle, as an example of fear to others like them. Chaereas, as he was led off, kept silent, but Polycharmus, bearing his cross, said, "Because of you, Callirhoe, we suffer these things.

2.8. You are the cause to us of all our evils." When the steward heard these words, he thought there was some woman privy to what had been dared. So, that she too might be punished and an inquiry made into the plot, he quickly tore Polycharmus from the common chain and led him to Mithridates. He was lying in a garden, alone and idling, picturing to himself Callirhoe such as he had seen her in mourning; and being wholly absorbed in that thought, he looked on the servant with displeasure.

2.9. "Why do you disturb me?" he said. "It is necessary, master," he said; "for I have found the source of the great crime, and this accursed man knows of a foul woman who had a hand in the murder." Hearing this, Mithridates knit his brows and, with a terrible look, said, "Tell me

2.10. the woman who shared and was your accomplice in the crimes." But Polycharmus denied that he knew of any, since he had had no share at all in the deed. Whips were called for, and fire was brought, and there was a preparation of instruments of torture, and one, already laying hold of his body, said, "Tell the name of the woman whom you confessed to be the cause of your evils." Polycharmus said, "Callirhoe."

2.11. The name struck Mithridates, and he thought the woman must have some unlucky sameness of name with that other. So he no longer wished to press the examination eagerly, fearing lest he should ever come into the necessity of insulting that sweetest of names; but when his friends and servants urged a more exact inquiry,

2.12. he said, "Let Callirhoe be brought." So, beating Polycharmus, they asked who she was and from where they should bring her. The poor man, at a loss, was unwilling to lie about any woman, and said, "Why are you troubling yourselves in vain, seeking one who is not here? I was mentioning Callirhoe of Syracuse, the daughter

2.13. of Hermocrates the general." Hearing this, Mithridates was filled with blushing, and sweated inwardly, and somewhere a tear, against his will, fell from him, so that even Polycharmus fell silent and all present were at a loss. At last and with difficulty Mithridates, collecting himself, said, "What is your business with that Callirhoe, and why, when about to die, did you mention her?" He answered, "It is a long tale, master, and no longer of any use to me.

2.14. I will not trouble you by babbling out of season, and at the same time I am afraid that, if I delay, my friend may die before me; and I wish to die together with him." The anger of the hearers was broken, and their wrath turned to pity, and Mithridates, beyond all the rest, was overcome and said, "Do not be afraid, for you will not trouble me by telling it;

2.15. for I have a kindly soul. Tell everything boldly and leave out nothing—who you are and from where, and how you came to Caria, and why you dig in bonds; and above all tell me about Callirhoe, and who your friend is."

3.1. So Polycharmus began to speak: "We two prisoners are Syracusans by birth. But the one is a young man once the first in Sicily for renown and wealth and beauty, while I am of humble station, but his schoolfellow and friend.

3.2. Leaving our parents, we sailed from our country, I for his sake, he for the sake of a woman named Callirhoe, whom, thinking her dead, he had buried at great cost; but tomb-robbers, finding her alive, sold her into Ionia. This Theron the pirate revealed to us, being publicly tortured.

3.3. So the city of the Syracusans sent a trireme and ambassadors to seek out the woman. This trireme, lying at anchor by night, the barbarians burned, and they slaughtered the many, but bound and sold here me and my friend. We then bore the calamity soberly; but certain others bound together with us, whom we do not know, broke their fetters and committed murder, and at your command we were all led to the cross.

3.4. So my friend, even in dying, made no complaint against the woman, but I was led to mention her and to say that she was the cause of our evils, on whose account we sailed." While he was still speaking, Mithridates cried out, "You mean Chaereas."

3.5. "My friend," said Polycharmus; "but I beg you, master, order the executioner not even to part our crosses." Tears and groaning followed the tale, and Mithridates sent everyone to Chaereas, so that he should not die first. They found the others already executed, and him just mounting the cross.

3.6. So from afar they cried out, one one thing and one another: "Spare him! Come down! Do not wound him! Let him go!" The executioner checked his hand, and Chaereas, grieved, came down from the cross; for he was glad to be quit of a wretched life and an unhappy love. As he was led off, Mithridates met him and, embracing him, said, "Brother and friend, you almost trapped me into doing an impious deed, through your controlled but ill-timed silence."

3.7. At once, then, he ordered his servants to take them to the baths and tend their bodies, and when they had bathed, to put on them costly Greek cloaks; and he himself invited acquaintances to a banquet and sacrificed a thank-offering for Chaereas's deliverance. The drinking was long and the entertainment pleasant, and nothing of cheer was lacking.

3.8. As the feast went on, Mithridates, warmed with wine and love, said, "It is not your bonds and your cross that I pity, Chaereas, but that you have been deprived of such a wife." Astonished, Chaereas cried out, "Where, then, did you see my Callirhoe?" "No longer yours," said Mithridates, "but lawfully married to Dionysius of Miletus; and now

3.9. they even have a child." Chaereas could not endure to hear this, but falling at the knees of Mithridates said, "I beseech you, master, give me back my cross. You torture me worse, compelling me to live after such a tale.

3.10. Faithless Callirhoe, most impious of all women, I was sold for your sake, and dug, and bore a cross, and was handed to the executioner's hands, while you luxuriated and celebrated a wedding while I was in bonds. It was not enough that you became another man's wife while Chaereas lived;

3.11. you have become a mother too." All began to weep, and the banquet turned to a gloomy theme. Alone of them Mithridates rejoiced at this, taking a certain amorous hope, as being now able both to say and to do something about Callirhoe,

3.12. so that he might seem to be helping a friend. "For now," he said, "since it is night, let us go away, and on the next day, when sober, let us deliberate about these things; for the matter needs longer leisure." On this he rose and dissolved the banquet, and he himself rested, as was his custom, but for the young Syracusans he appointed attendance and a special chamber.

4.1. That night, full of cares, came upon all, and no one could sleep; for Chaereas was angry, Polycharmus comforted him, and Mithridates rejoiced, hoping that, just as in the athletic contests, being the reserve competitor between Chaereas and Dionysius, he himself would carry off the prize, Callirhoe, without a struggle.

4.2. On the next day, when the question was put forward, Chaereas at once thought it best to go to Miletus and demand his wife from Dionysius; for, he said, Callirhoe would not remain when she saw him. But Mithridates said, "For my part, go, for I do not wish you to be parted from your wife a single day; would that you had never left Sicily, and that nothing dreadful had befallen you both. But since fortune, fond of novelty, has wrapped a gloomy drama about you, you must deliberate about what follows more prudently; for now you are hurrying out of passion rather than reason, foreseeing nothing of the future.

4.3. Alone and a stranger, you are going off to the greatest city, and you wish to take away from a wealthy man, the foremost in Ionia, a wife especially bound to him—relying on what power? Far off are Hermocrates and Mithridates, your only allies, able rather to mourn you than to help you.

4.4. I fear too the fortune of the place. You have already suffered dreadful things there; but your past will seem to you kinder.

You were bound, but you lived; you were sold, but to me. Now, if Dionysius perceives you plotting against his marriage, what god will be able to save you? You will be handed over to a rival who is a tyrant, and perhaps you will not even be believed to be Chaereas; and you will be in still greater danger if he does think you are truly he.

4.5. Are you alone ignorant of the nature of love, that this god delights in deceptions and tricks? It seems to me best for you first to make trial of the woman by letter, whether she remembers you and wishes to leave Dionysius, or

wishes to increase the house of him who has married her.

4.6. Write her a letter; let her grieve, rejoice, seek, summon; and for the sending of the letter I will provide. Go and write." Chaereas was persuaded, and going off into solitude wished to write, but could not, his tears flowing and his hand trembling. Having wept out his own misfortunes, he barely began such a letter as this:

CHAEREAS TO CALLIRHOE

4.7. I am alive, and I am alive because of Mithridates, my benefactor, and, I hope, yours too. For I was sold into Caria by the barbarians who burned the beautiful trireme, the admiral's ship, your father's; and on it the city sent an embassy on your behalf. What has become of the other citizens I do not know, but me and Polycharmus my friend, when we were already about to be killed, the pity of a master saved.

4.8. But while Mithridates has done me every kindness, in this one thing he has grieved me beyond all: that he told me of your marriage. For death, being a man, I expected, but your marriage I did not look for. Yet I beseech you, change your mind. Over these letters of mine I pour out tears and kisses.

4.9. I am that Chaereas of yours, whom you saw as a maiden walking to Aphrodite's temple, for whom you lay sleepless. Remember the bridal chamber and the mystic night, in which you first took experience of a husband and I of a wife. But I was jealous. This is the way of a lover. I have paid the penalty to you.

4.10. I was sold, I was a slave, I was bound. Do not bear me a grudge for that rash kick; for I too mounted a cross for your sake, bringing no charge against you. If, then, you still remember me, I have suffered nothing; but if you think otherwise, you will be passing on me a sentence of death.

5.1. This letter he gave to Hyginus, his most trusted man, whom he had as steward of his whole estate in Caria, having disclosed to him his own love as well. He himself also wrote to Callirhoe, showing goodwill and care toward her, that for her sake he had saved Chaereas, and advising her not to outrage her first husband, promising that he himself would manage matters so that they should recover each other, if she too added her vote.

5.2. He sent with Hyginus three attendants and costly gifts and abundant gold; and it was given out to the other servants that he was sending these to Dionysius, so as to avert suspicion. He ordered Hyginus, when he came to Priene, to leave the others there, and to go himself alone, as an Ionian—for he spoke Greek—as a scout into Miletus; and then, when he had learned how he might deal with the business, to bring those from Priene to Miletus.

5.3. So he went off and did as he was ordered, but fortune awarded an end not like the plan, but set in motion the beginning of greater events. For when Hyginus had gone off to Miletus, the slaves, left behind, free of their overseer, rushed into dissipation, having gold in abundance.

5.4. In a small city, full of Greek inquisitiveness, foreign extravagance turned the eyes of all upon them; for being unknown men and living luxuriously they seemed to them most likely pirates, and at all events runaways.

5.5. So the magistrate came to the inn and, searching, found gold and costly ornaments; and thinking them stolen, he examined the servants as to who they were and where these things came from. Out of fear of torture they revealed the truth, that Mithridates the governor of Caria had sent gifts to Dionysius,

5.6. and they showed the letters. But the magistrate did not open the writings, for they were sealed on the outside; instead, handing everything over to public officers along with the servants, he sent them to Dionysius, thinking to lay up a benefit toward him.

5.7. Now it happened that Dionysius was entertaining the most distinguished of the citizens, and the banquet was brilliant, and already somewhere a flute was sounding and a melody was heard in song. In the midst of it someone handed him the letter:

BIAS, MAGISTRATE OF PRIENE, TO HIS BENEFACTOR DIONYSIUS, GREETING

5.8. Gifts and letters being conveyed to you from Mithridates the governor of Caria, wicked slaves were squandering, whom I have arrested and sent up to you.

This letter Dionysius read in the midst of the banquet, preening himself on the royal gifts; and ordering the seals to be cut, he tried to read the writings. So he saw:

CHAEREAS TO CALLIRHOE. I am alive.

5.9. And his knees and his heart gave way, and then darkness poured over his eyes. And yet, though fainting, he kept hold of the letters, fearing that another might read them. When there was an uproar and a running together, he was roused, and understanding his condition he ordered the servants to carry him into another room, as though wishing to take some rest.

5.10. So the banquet broke up gloomily—for an impression of a stroke had seized them—but Dionysius, alone by himself, read the letters over many times. Various feelings laid hold of him—anger, despondency, fear, disbelief. He did not believe that Chaereas was alive—for this he did not at all wish—but supposed it an adulterous pretense of Mithridates, who wished to corrupt Callirhoe by the hope of Chaereas.

6.1. So on the next day he set a stricter watch over the woman, lest anyone approach her or report any of the tales from Caria; and he himself devised such a defense as this. There was staying there at the time the governor of Lydia and Ionia, Pharnaces, who indeed seems the greatest of those sent down by the King to the sea. To him Dionysius went, for he was his friend, and asked for a private interview. "I beseech you, master," he said, "help both me and yourself. For Mithridates, the worst of men, who envies you too, having become my guest-friend, is plotting against my marriage and has sent adulterous letters with gold to

6.2. my wife." On this he read the letters and told of the trick. Pharnaces heard his words gladly—perhaps partly because of Mithridates (for there had been no few collisions between them on account of their neighborhood), but more because of love; for he too was burning for Callirhoe and on her account stayed much in Miletus, inviting Dionysius with his wife to his banquets.

6.3. He promised, then, to help him as far as he could, and wrote a secret letter:

TO THE KING OF KINGS, ARTAXERXES, PHARNACES, SATRAP OF LYDIA AND IONIA, TO HIS OWN MASTER, GREETING.

6.4. Dionysius of Miletus is your slave, from his ancestors faithful and zealous toward your house. He has complained to me that Mithridates the governor of Caria, having become his guest-friend, is corrupting his wife. This brings great discredit on your affairs, or rather disturbance. For every lawlessness of a satrap is blameworthy, but most of all this. For Dionysius is the most powerful of the Ionians, and the beauty of the woman is famous, so that the outrage cannot be hidden.

6.5. This letter, when it was brought, the King read to his friends and deliberated about what should be done. Various opinions were spoken; for those who envied Mithridates, or coveted his satrapy, thought it best not to overlook a plot against the marriage of a man of repute, while those of more easygoing natures, or who honored Mithridates—and he had many supporters in high places—were not pleased to seize an esteemed man on a slander.

6.6. As the opinions were divided, the King ratified nothing on that day, but deferred the consideration; but when night came on, there crept over him a hatred of wrongdoing for the sake of the dignity of the kingship, and a caution about the future; for Mithridates, he thought, would have a beginning of contempt for authority.

6.7. So he set out to summon him to trial; but another feeling urged him to send for the beautiful woman as well. His counselors, and the darkness that comes in solitude, reminded the King of this part of the letter too; and rumor too provoked him, that there was a certain Callirhoe, most beautiful, in Ionia. And this only the King blamed Pharnaces for, that he had not added in the letter the name of the woman.

6.8. Yet, on the uncertain chance that the other might prove even better than the one reported, he resolved to summon the woman too. So he wrote to Pharnaces:

Send up Dionysius, my slave, the Milesian.

And to Mithridates:

Come and make your defense, that you did not plot against the marriage of Dionysius.

7.1. Mithridates was astounded and at a loss as to the reason for the slander, when Hyginus, returning, made clear what had happened concerning the servants. Betrayed, then, by the letters, he deliberated whether not to go up, fearing the slanders and the King's wrath, but to seize Miletus and destroy Dionysius the cause, and, snatching up Callirhoe, to revolt from the King.

7.2. "Why are you in haste," he said, "to surrender your freedom into a master's hands? Perhaps you will even prevail by remaining here; for the King is far off and has his generals; and even if otherwise he should set you aside, you will be able to suffer nothing worse. Meanwhile do not betray two of the fairest things, love and dominion. Sovereignty is a glorious shroud, and with Callirhoe death is sweet."

7.3. While he was still deliberating thus and preparing for revolt, someone came announcing that Dionysius had set out from Miletus and was bringing Callirhoe with him. This Mithridates heard with more grief than the order summoning him to trial; and weeping out his own misfortune he said, "On what hopes do I still remain?

7.4. Fortune betrays me on every side. Perhaps the King will pity me, since I do no wrong; but if I must die, again I shall see Callirhoe; and at the trial I shall have Chaereas with me, and Polycharmus, not only as advocates but as witnesses." So, ordering all his retinue to follow, he set out from Caria, with a good heart from the appearance of doing no wrong; so that they did not even escort him with tears, but with sacrifices and a procession.

7.5. So Love sent forth this one expedition from Caria, but from Ionia another more glorious; for the beauty was more conspicuous and more royal. For the woman's fame ran ahead, announcing to all men that Callirhoe was coming, the famous name, the great masterpiece of nature,

like Artemis or golden Aphrodite.

7.6. The story of the trial too made her more renowned. Whole cities came to meet her, and those who ran together to the sight crowded the roads; and to all the woman seemed greater than her fame. But Dionysius, though counted blessed, was grieved, and the magnitude of his good fortune made him more fearful; for, being an educated man, he reflected that Love is fond of novelty; for this reason poets and sculptors have given him bow and fire,

7.7. the lightest things and unwilling to stand still. And the memory of old tales came over him, how many changes there have been among beautiful women. Everything, then, frightened Dionysius; he looked on all as rivals, not the adversary alone but the very judge, so that he even repented of having too rashly disclosed these things to Pharnaces, when he might have slept and kept his beloved; for it was not the same thing to guard Callirhoe in Miletus and over all Asia.

7.8. Yet he kept the secret to the end, and did not confess the reason to his wife, but the pretext was that the King was summoning him, wishing to deliberate about the affairs in Ionia. But Callirhoe was grieved, being conveyed far from the Greek sea; for as long as she saw the harbors of Miletus, she thought herself near Syracuse; and she had a great consolation too in the tomb of Chaereas there.