This text is part of:
Search the Perseus Catalog for:
Gorgus then told us that his offering of the sacrifice had taken three days,
and on the last day there was a dance and merry-making, lasting the whole
night long, down by the shore. The moon was shining bright upon the sea;
there was no wind, but a perfect calm and stillness, when, afar off, was
seen a ripple coming towards land close by the promontory, attended by some
foam and much noise from its rapid movement, so that they all ran down in
amazement to the place where it was coming to shore. Before they could guess
what was bearing down upon them so rapidly, dolphins were seen, some forming
a dense encircling line, others leading the way to the smoothest part of the
shore, and still others behind, forming, as it were, a rear-guard. In their
midst,
[p. 431] uplifted above the sea, was a mass like a man's body
being borne along, but indistinct and ill-defined, until the dolphins drew
near together, and with one accord came close to the shore, and deposited on
land a human being, in whom was still the breath of life and power to move ;
then they themselves put forth again towards the promontory leaping even
higher than before, and sporting and frolicking apparently for joy. ‘
Many of us,’ continued Gorgus, “ were panic-stricken,
and fled from the sea-shore, but a few, including myself, grew bold enough
to draw near, and they recognized Arion the harper, who pronounced his own
name himself, and was easily recognizable by his dress ; for he happened to
be clad in the ceremonial robes which he had worn when he played and sang.
“We accordingly conducted him to a tent, since there was really
nothing the matter with him, save that he seemed somewhat unstrung and
wearied by the swiftness and rush of his ride, and we heard from him a
story, incredible to all men except to us who with our own eyes had seen its
conclusion. Arion said that some time ago he had resolved to leave Italy,
and the receipt of a letter from Periander had only stimulated his desire
the more, and when a Corinthian merchant-vessel appeared there, he had at
once embarked and sailed away from that land. For three days they were
favoured by a moderate breeze, and there came over Arion the feeling that
the sailors were plotting to make away with him, and later he learned from
the pilot, who secretly gave him the information, that they were resolved to
do the deed that night. Helpless and at his wits' end, he put into execution
an impulse, divinely inspired, to adorn [p. 433] his person, and
to take for his shroud, while he was still living, the elaborate attire
which he wore at competitions, and to sing a final song to life as he ended
it, and not to prove himself in this respect less generous than the swans.
Accordingly he made himself ready, and, first saying that he was possessed
by a desire to sing through one of his songs—the ode to Pythian
Apollo—as a supplication for the safety of himself and the ship
and all on board, he took his stand beside the bulwark at the stern, and,
after a prelude invoking the gods of the sea, he began the ode. He had not
even half finished it as the sun was sinking into the sea and the
Peloponnesus becoming visible. The sailors therefore waited no longer for
the night-time, but advanced to the murderous deed ; whereupon Arion, seeing
knives bared and the pilot already covering up his face, ran back and threw
himself as far away from the ship as possible. But before his body was
entirely submerged, dolphins swam beneath him, and he was borne upward, full
of doubt and uncertainty and confusion at first. But when he began to feel
at ease in being carried in this manner, and saw many dolphins gathering
around him in a friendly way, and relieving one another as though such
service in alternation were obligatory and incumbent upon all, and the sight
of the ship left far behind gave a means to measure their speed, there came
into his thoughts, as he said, not so much a feeling of fear in the face of
death, or a desire to live, as a proud longing to be saved that he might be
shown to be a man loved by the gods, and that he might gain a sure opinion
regarding them. At the same time, observing that the sky was dotted with
stars, and the moon was rising bright and clear, [p. 435] while
the sea everywhere was without a wave as if a path were being opened for
their course, he bethought himself that the eye of Justice is not a single
eye only,1 but through all these eyes of hers God watches in every direction
the deeds that are done here and there both on land and on the sea. By these
reflections, he said, the weariness and heaviness which he was already
beginning to feel in his body were relieved, and when at the last, as the
jutting promontory, rugged and lofty, appeared in their path, they rounded
it with great caution, and skirted close to the land as if they were
bringing a boat safely into harbour, then he fully realized that his rescue
had been guided by God's hand.
‘When Arion had told all this,’ continued Gorgus, ‘I
asked him where he thought the ship would make harbour ; and he replied
that it would surely come to Corinth, but its arrival would be much
later ; for he thought that after he had thrown himself overboard in the
evening, he had been carried a distance of not less than fifty or more
miles, and a calm had fallen immediately.’ Gorgus went on to say
that he had ascertained the name of the captain and of the pilot, and the
ship's emblem, and had sent out boats and soldiers to the landing-places to
keep strict watch ; moreover, he had brought Arion with him, carefully
concealed, so that the guilty ones might not gain any premature information
of his rescue from death, and make good their escape; and in fact the whole
affair seemed like an event divinely directed, for his men were here just as
he arrived, and he learned that the ship had been seized, and the traders
and sailors arrested. [p. 437]
1 Possibly a reference to a line of an unknown tragedian found in Moralia, 1124 F.