THE FOURTEENTH PAPYRUS

But, when we reached Kirrha, having harboured my galley suitably, I went on to Delphi with Neandros and Thalos and nine trusty-looking slaves, who carried a part of my treasure. But we were all disguised in sordid garments; and the treasure was concealed in filthy wallets: for I was prepared with a wile. For, indeed, I was willing enough, and even glad to offer gifts propitiatory to the Far-Darter, lest he still should cherish his ancient rancour against me: for time is of small account to the gods, but hatred may be an open fester for ever. But, nevertheless, I (being myself a priest) did not intend to be skinned by priests of the Lord (of the Silver Bow), nor was I ready to let them suck me dry, as a fly is sucked by assiduous spiders. For the good shepherd only shears his sheep, leaving the skinning of them to the butcher.

Thus, then, I came to the fane in the laurel-grove; and I counted the glittering shields there while waiting for my turn: for there were many suppliants that day, seeking an oracle, and giving gifts of red gold.

And, anon, the warden of the treasury, the most righteous of men with the pleated regard of a not-very-gracious pig, bade me to advance and make my offering. But I grieved that men, of evil mind and turpilucricupidous, should have twisted the good mind of the gods to suit their own improper ends: for, whereas, of old, a suppliant’s gift was made as a willing thank-offering after the Pythian nun had repeated the words of the god, now, indeed, the treasurer would have appraised my gift, before admitting me even to the narthex of the shrine where men may await the divine oracle. Wherefore, avoiding undue display of my actual condition, and (in fact) wilily simulating poverty, I began by making reluctant offering of a tiny golden ingot. But the blameless treasurer had a motion which made his mitre slip down to one ear of his, discovering a corner of old skull red as a rotten bite of meat and giving his aspect something of dancing and elastic: also, he snorted very contemptuously, like a camel of sneering nostrils; and (seeing me to be clad in an old cloak and wearing no well-crested helmet but a shabby floppy hat such as my wing-footed grandsire Hermes loves to wear), he had a flapping of his fattish fingers, and cried out upon me, and would have sent me away. But I doled out gold in morsels; and, as a Kretan, selling embroideries or incised stones to some blubber-lipped carroty-headed chin-less alien who screams with spasms of fury, lies in wait to see what the fool will offer, so did I with the warden of the treasury, offering a little at a time, moaning prodigiously, till I wearied him of bargaining and gained permission to pass in.

And, at length, I stood before the hollow shrine, and I prayed to the son of Queen Titania that he would be propitious and easy of memory concerning certain former regrettable occurrences. And all was still.

The bards sat hard on their stools, anointed ones, ignoble, stinking, and perfectly contented, in an odious fraternity of dalmatics, listless, till such time when the shrieks of the Pythia should spinge them into vibration with verses.

Above the bards, the hierarch of Phoibos Apollon, occupied a throne as archbishop, laurel-crowned, venerably filletted.

And, anon, the holy Pythian nun, standing on the fumy grating with her python coiled about her feet, ecstatic amid clouds of frankincense, shrieked, and moaned, and shrieked again; and her eyes glared, being fixed wide open.

The blameless bards sprang forth from their drowsing; and put on the allure of very intelligent men. The archbishop advanced an attentive ear of the rose of rotten flesh. And the inspired virgin chanted, in the Delian mode, with bell-like notes and simple cadences, delivering the oracle which the fair-haired god was whispering to her mind. But she sang in the language of the gods, intelligible only to masters alone among articulately-speaking men.

Thus, then, she sang; and the bards were dazed; and the filletted archbishop marvelled vastly: for very rarely does the Pythia use the secret tongue in her phrenzies.

Thus, then, she sang, as her ecstasy intensified, floating her up from the grating all rigid, as she stood on the willing air tenderly lifting her up on high. For far-darting Phoibos Apollon himself was uttering unwinged words through the mouth of his nun.

And thus she sang:

Such was the Oracle of Delphic Phoibos Apollon.

But, when the Pythian nun swooned, having made an end of her singing, the blameless archbishop gushed hurriedly down from his throne, very ardent, very violent, the crupper under his dalmatic waggling with furies no longer to be concealed: for he knew the secret tongue; and he perceived that I must be a personage of superior quality, though assuredly he did not understand the full import of the message, which (indeed) could be known solely to the divine Bow-bearer and to me, the bearer of the singing bow. But, because (being a priest, and one of the most righteous of men) he hankered after the society of a person so openly favoured by the god, he approached me, bent upon inquiries. And he made me the Sign of the Master-Architect: but I responded with the Grip of the Ruler of Nine. And he signed me with the Word of the Knight of the Crab: but I countersigned him with the Word of the Prince of the Moon. We embraced in the Ways of the East and of the West. Together we formed the Symbols of the Peacock and of the Ravens both Black and White. But, when he shewed himself to be a Master of the White Stars, I, in my turn gave him my token as Lord of the Ultra-Violet Radiance, further than which no mortal man can go in this direction. And I beckoned him to slink back to his throne: which he did, very sorrowful in his heart, and champing his ancient gums while borborygms of his belly went and came.

In this manner, I triumphed at the temple of Delphi, obtaining the favour of the god.