To
prove this, let me tell you a story, which is well known in Cyprus
to be a fact; and I hope it will have the effect to make you more
merciful.
"Iphis was a young man of humble parentage, who saw and loved
Anaxarete, a noble lady of the ancient family of Teucer. He
struggled long with his passion, but when he found he could not
subdue it, he came a suppliant to her mansion. First he told his
passion to her nurse, and begged her as she loved her foster-child
to favor his suit. And then he tried to win her domestics to his
side. Sometimes he committed his vows to written tablets, and
often hung at her door garlands which he had moistened with his
tears. He stretched himself on her threshold, and uttered his
complaints to the cruel bolts and bars. She was deafer than the
surges which rise in the November gale; harder than steel from the
German forges, or a rock that still clings to its native cliff.
She mocked and laughed at him, adding cruel words to her ungentle
treatment, and gave not the slightest gleam of hope.
"Iphis could not any longer endure the torments of hopeless love,
and, standing before her doors, he spake these last words:
'Anaxarete, you have conquered, and shall no longer have to bear
my importunities. Enjoy your triumph! Sing songs of joy, and bind
your forehead with laurel,--you have conquered! I die; stony
heart, rejoice! This at least I can do to gratify you and force
you to praise me; and thus shall I prove that the love of you left
me but with life.
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