wish it, not I. I thank you for the years that you have given me and will not remind you of the grief you have caused. I shall remember only the good that we have shared. In addition to the Siccanians’ gift I shall give you the gold coins given to me by Xenodotos and shall retain only enough money to pay for my voyage to Rome. But Hanna you cannot take with you. I know well that in your greediness you would sell her at the first opportune moment, and I want no harm to befall her.”
Arsinoe burst into tears and shouted, “Your heart is like stone! I am too proud to remind you of the sorrow that you have caused me, but it is only natural that you should give me your money. A few gold coins are small compensation indeed for all that I have lost because of you. Nor have you any right to Hanna. I am the one who has raised and taught her, and she even spoiled my hair.”
We argued about Hanna until I produced the golden goblet I had chosen from the Siccanian treasure and gave that also to Arsinoe. I concealed from her only the small golden hand which had more value as an amulet than as money.
Arsinoe weighed the goblet in her hand, glanced at me suspiciously and demanded, “What do you want with that girl and how does her fate concern you?”
Indignantly I exclaimed, “I shall marry her to some good man with her own permission. That much I feel that I owe her because she took care of both your children.”
“Of course I can buy a more skilled slave in Rhegion,” she retorted. “It will be a relief if you take that clumsy girl off my neck, for she has been looking at me malevolently for a long time. Even without her, though, you will have more than enough trouble. Remember my warning when calamity befalls you, Turms.”
Even in my anger I glowed and trembled at her nearness and I did not know how I could live without her. We had spent many days in Panormos during which she had not humbled herself and I had not touched her. She had hoped to bend me to her will by arousing my desire and was greatly disappointed when I did not attempt to put my arms around her even” at our moment of parting. Yet had I done so, I would once again have been in her power, so I controlled myself.
As the day began to close I took her from the city to the harbor, kissed Misme farewell and assured Xenodotos of my good wishes.
“For the sake of our friendship,” I requested, “if the weather compels you to stop at Himera, look up the highborn Etruscan merchant, Lars Alsir. Give him my regards and pay him whatever I owe, for it is difficult for me to leave a country in which I am indebted. He is a cultured man and can give you much valuable information about the Etruscans.”
Xenodotos promised to do so but Arsinoe reproached me bitterly. “Is this your only farewell to me? Are you really more concerned about your debt to a stranger than about your debt to me?”
Covering her head, she climbed up the ladder onto the ship and Xenodotos followed with Misme. Until the last moment I expected Arsinoe to be overcome by remorse and to jump off the ship, but the sailors pulled in the ladder, tied it to the railing and with the oars thrust the ship onto the water. As they left the shore they raised the sail, the sunset colored the ship red and I believed Arsinoe to have disappeared from my life forever. There on the shore of Panormos I dropped to my knees in grief and buried my face in my hands. Disappointment overwhelmed me and in my heart I cursed the gods who trifled with me. Nor did I feel relief in remembering Arsinoe’s greed and frivolity, for she had in truth forsaken all in Segesta to follow me. And I had until the last moment expected her to do so again.
Then I felt the shy touch of fingertips on my shoulder and heard Hanna’s warning voice, “The Phoenicians are looking at you.”
Remembering my hazardous position and my Siccanian appearance, I donned the antlered mask once more and tossed over my shoulder the colored woolen mantle which Xenodotos had given me on parting. Head proudly erect, I strode to the Etruscan’s ship and Hanna followed behind with a hide bundle of our few effects on her head.
Only the Etruscan’s limping helmsman was on guard. When I stepped aboard the ship he thanked the gods and said, “It’s good that you came, Siccanian. Keep an eye on the cargo and the ship so that I also can sacrifice and pray for wind.”
As the night darkened the sound of Phoenician musical instruments and the bawling of drunkards began to carry from the market place, so that I well understood why the helmsman had jumped for joy at being able to join in the sacrifice. When he had left, Hanna and I found a place for ourselves on the ship. In the protective darkness the hot tears finally burst from my eyes. I wept for my loss and the compulsion of my omens and could think of nothing but Arsinoe.
In the dark of the ship I felt Hanna creep beside me as I lay on the stinking bundles. She touched my face with her fingertips, wiped the tears from my eyes, kissed my cheeks, caressed my hair and in her distress began to weep also. She was only a young girl, but in my sorrow the mere presence of another person exuded compassion. Hanna’s sadness assuaged my own pangs, nor did I want her to weep because of me.
“Don’t weep, Hanna. My tears are but the tears of weakness and will cease of themselves. But I am a poor man and my future is uncertain. I don’t know whether I did the right thing in taking you with me. Perhaps it would have been better for you to have followed your mistress.”
Hanna rose to her knees in the darkness and declared, “I would rather have jumped into the sea! I am thankful that you are taking me with you wherever you go.” She reached for my face. “I shall be whatever you wish, and will gladly work for you. If you wish you may brand my forehead or loins with the sign of the slave.”
Her fervor touched me. Stroking her hair, I said, “You are not a slave, Hanna. I shall protect you as best I can until you find a man you can accept.”
She rejected the thought. “No, Turms. I don’t think I will find such a man. You keep me, please. I’ll try to be as useful as possible.” She added hesitantly, “Arsinoe, our mistress, explained that I could earn the most money by offering myself to some brothel in a big city. If you wish, I am ready to earn money for you even in that way, although I would not do so gladly.”
Her suggestion so horrified me that I put my arms around her. “Don’t even think of such a thing. I would never permit it, for you are an untouched and good girl. I want to protect you and certainly not lead you to destruction.”
She was highly pleased at having made me forget my sorrow momentarily and forced me to eat and to drink the wine that she had brought along. We sat dangling our feet over the side of the ship, looked at the reddish lights of the harbor and listened to the blare of the Phoenician instruments. Hanna’s nearness warmed me because I at least had someone with whom to talk.
I don’t know how it all happened, but the wine and the music and the trusting presence of a young girl must have been responsible. Nor have I any defense other than that in his deepest sorrow man is so shaken that in his receptivity to another’s presence he seeks oblivion in the roar of his own blood. Arsinoe had denied me herself, and the good food and idleness in the city had made my body sensitive to temptation. I cannot blame only Hanna but myself as well. For when we had gone to rest I was overwhelmed with desire at the touch of her smooth limbs. Without protest she surrendered to me and wound her arms around my neck. But even as I delighted in her I knew that her slender limbs were not Arsinoe’s limbs and that her body could never compete with Arsinoe.
When I drew away from her we lay silent in the darkness for a long time until I heard her stifled sobs.
I touched her bare shoulder and said with bitterness, “Little did I think that on the very first night you would have to weep because of me. You see now what kind of a man I am. I have hurt you and spoiled your chances for marriage. I can well understand why you are weeping.”
But Hanna pressed against me passionately, whispering, “I’m not weeping because of that. These are tears of joy that you should have cared to touch me. I’m not regretting the loss of my virtue, for I have been saving it for you. I have nothing else to give you.”
She kissed my hands and shoulders fervently. “You have made me so happy! I have been waiting for this moment ever since that moonlit night when you held me in your lap when I was but a child. Don’t heed my tears, for I am weeping only at my worthlessness. How could cheap copper satisfy one who is accustomed to embracing gold?”
“Don’t say that,” I protested. “You were most winsome in my arms, and I have never before embraced an untouched girl. But I did you a great wrong. My only consolation is the knowledge that I am sterile and that you need have no fear of the consequences. You probably knew that Hiuls was not my son nor Misme my daughter.”
