"Having thus spoken, Eunoia descended to the earth, and was incarnate in the breast of a woman of Argos.She was born small and feeble, and received the name of Helen.She submitted to all the labours of this life, but soon grew in grace and beauty, and became the most desired of women, as she had determined, in order that her mortal body might be tried by the most supreme defilements.An inert prey to lascivious and violent men, she suffered rape and adultery, in expiation of all the adulteries, all the violences, all the iniquities, and caused, by her beauty, the ruin of nations, that God might pardon the sins of the universe.And never was the celestial thought, never was Eunoia, so adorable as in those days when, as a woman, she prostituted herself to heroes and shepherds.The poets surmised her divinity when they painted her so peaceful, superb, and fatal, and when they addressed that invocation to her, 'A soul as serene as a calm upon the waters.'
"Thus was Eunoia led by pity into evil and suffering.She died, and the Argives still show her tomb--for it was necessary that she should know death after lust, and taste the bitter fruit she had sown.But, emerging from the decomposed flesh of Helen, she became incarnate again as a woman, and again suffered every form of insult and outrage.
Thus, passing from body to body, throughout all the evil ages, she takes upon her the sins of the world.Her sacrifice will not be in vain.Joined to us by the bonds of the flesh, loving us, and weeping with us, she will effect her redemption and ours, and will carry us, clinging to her white breast, into the peace of the regained paradise."HERMODORUS.This myth was not unknown to me.I remembered having heard that, in one of her metamorphoses, the divine Helen lived with the magician, Simon, in the reign of the Emperor Tiberius.I thought, however, that her perdition was involuntary, and that she was dragged down by the angels in their fall.
ZENOTHEMIS.It is true, Hermodorus, that men who were not properly initiated in the mysteries have imagined that the sad Eunoia was not a party to her own downfall.But if it were as they assert Eunoia would not be the expiating courtesan, the victim covered with stains of all sorts, the bread steeped in the wine of our shame, the pleasant offering, the meritorious sacrifice, the holocaust, the smoke of which rises to God.If they were not voluntary, there would be no merit in her sins.
CALLICRATES.Does anyone know, Zenothemis in what country, under what name, in what adorable form, this ever-renascent Helen is living now?
ZENOTHEMIS.A man would have to be very wise indeed to discover such a secret.And wisdom, Callicrates, is not given to poets, who live in the rude world of forms and amuse themselves, like children, with sounds and empty shows.
CALLICRATES.Beware of offending the gods, impious Zenothemis; the poets are dear to them.The first laws were dictated in verse by the immortals themselves, and the oracles of the gods are poems.Hymns have a pleasant sound to celestial ears.Who does not know that the poets are prophets, and that nothing is hidden from them? Being a poet myself, and crowned with Apollo's laurel, I will make known to all the last incarnation of Eunoia.The eternal Helen is close to us; she is looking at us, and we are looking at her.You see that woman reclining on the cushions of her couch--so beautiful and so contemplative--whose eyes shed tears, and whose lips abound with kisses! It is she! Lovely as in the time of Priam and the halcyon days of Asia, Eunoia is now called Thais.
PHILINA.What do you say, Callicrates? Our dear Thais knew Paris, Menelaus, and the Achaians who fought before Ilion! Was the Trojan horse big, Thais?
ARISTOBULUS.Who speaks of a horse?
"I have drunk like a Thracian!" cried Chereas and he rolled under the table.
Callicrates, raising his cup, cried--
"If we drink like desperate men, we die unavenged!"Old Cotta was asleep, and his bald head nodded slowly above his broad shoulders.
For some time past Dorion had seemed to be greatly excited under his philosophic cloak.He reeled up to the couch of Thais.
"Thais, I love you, although it is unseemly in me to love a woman."THAIS.Why did you not love me before?
DORION.Because I had not supped.
THAIS.But I, my poor friend, have drunk nothing but water; therefore you must excuse me if I do not love you.
Dorion did not wait to hear more, but made towards Drosea, who had made a sign to him in order to get him away from her friend.
Zenothemis took the place he had left, and gave Thais a kiss on the mouth.
THAIS.I thought you more virtuous.
ZENOTHEMIS.I am perfect, and the perfect are subject to no laws.
THAIS.But are you not afraid of sullying your soul in a woman's arms?
ZENOTHEMIS.The body may yield to lust without the soul being concerned.
THAIS.Go away! I wish to be loved with body and soul.All these philosophers are old goats.
The lamps died out one by one.The pale rays of dawn, which entered between the openings of the hangings, shone on the livid faces and swollen eyes of the guests.Aristobulus was sleeping soundly by the side of Chereas, and, in his dreams, devoting all his grooms to the ravens.Zenothemis pressed in his arms the yielding Philina; Dorion poured on the naked bosom of Drosea drops of wine, which rolled like rubies on the white breast, which was shaking with laughter, and the philosopher tried to catch these drops with his lips, as they rolled on the slippery flesh.Eucrites rose, and placing his arm on the shoulder of Nicias, led him to the end of the hall.
"Friend," he said, smiling, "if you can still think at all--of what are you thinking?""I think that the love of women is like a garden of Adonis.""What do you mean by that?"
