save that to the
south. Soon the band began contracting its nets and driving a swarm of
citizens toward the remaining exit, for a red chalk-mark on a mantle meant
a fine. Traffic ceased instantly. Thousands crowded the lane betwixt the
temples and porches, seeking the assembly place,--through a narrow,
ill-built way, but the great area of the Pnyx opened before them like the
slopes of some noble theatre.

No seats; rich and poor sat down upon the rocky ground. Under the open
azure, at the focus of the semicircle, with clear view before of the city,
and to right of the red cliffs of the Acropolis, rose a low platform hewn
in the rock,--the "Bema," the orator's pulpit. A few chairs for the
magistrates and a small altar were its sole furnishings. The multitude
entered the Pnyx through two narrow entrances pierced in the massy
engirdling wall and took seats at pleasure; all were equals--the Alcmaeonid,
the charcoal-seller from Acharnae. Amid silence the chairman of the Council
arose and put on the myrtle crown,--sign that the sitting was opened. A
herald besought blessings on the Athenians and the Plataeans their allies.
A wrinkled seer carefully slaughtered a goose, proclaimed that its
entrails gave good omen, and cast the carcass on the altar. The herald
assured the people there was no rain, thunder, or other unlucky sign from
heaven. The pious accordingly breathed easier, and awaited the order of
the day.

The decree of the Council convening the assembly was read; then the
herald's formal proclamation:--

"Who wishes to speak?"

The answer was a groan from nigh every soul present. Three men ascended
the Bema. They bore the olive branches and laurel garlands, suppliants at
Delphi; but their cloaks were black. "The oracle is unfavourable! The gods
deliver us to Xerxes!" The thrill of horror went around the Pnyx.

The three stood an instant in gloomy silence. Then Callias the Rich,
solemn and impressive, their spokesman, told their eventful story.

"Athenians, by your orders we have been to Delphi to inquire of the surest
oracle in Greece your destinies in the coming war. Hardly had we completed
the accustomed sacrifices in the Temple of Apollo, when the Pythoness
Aristonice, sitting above the sacred cleft whence comes the inspiring
vapour, thus prophesied." And Callias repeated the hexameters which warned
the Athenians that resistance to Xerxes would be worse than futile; that
Athens was doomed; concluding with the f