“Now measuring forth with Attic grace

(Like figures round a sculptured vase)

The accent of some mythic song,

Now hurled, a Baccic group along.”

Aubrey de Vere.

The sun was scarcely an hour above the horizon when seven skiffs in festive regalia left the harbor of Piræus southward bound. Six of them were filled with youths and maidens bedecked with flowers. Across the serene blue where scarcely a ripple was perceptible, the voices of the merry-makers floated, returning in echoes from the temples of marble, gleaming white on the naked promontories. The seventh boat was laden with goats intended as sacrificial offerings to the god Dionysus at his temple on the island of Naxos.

Ephialtes and Persephone, accompanied by Agne, whom Persephone has insisted upon taking as chaperone, were seated in the foremost vessel. Persephone sat at the prow gazing out across the waters. Her tunic and skirt were of pale blue trimmed with golden brocade of an intricate pattern. Her brown-gold hair lay in waves over her temples which were encircled by a plain gold band from which hung a chaplet of sapphires, lying on her forehead.
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To Ephialtes she had never appeared more beautiful. He thought of the evening that they had glided in this manner off Salamis. He intended to ask her the same question, hoping she had long since forgotten the request she had made of him. He turned frequently with ill-concealed annoyance toward Agne who sat at Persephone’s left. Ephialtes felt that now as in the Mystery drama they were Hades, Ceres and Persephone; that Ceres strove to keep her daughter under her protection, and like Hades he desired to snatch her from the maternal arms and keep her for his own. He did not know that Agne’s advice had been favorable to his suit. Had he been acquainted with this fact he might have been more tolerant of the older woman.

As the afternoon wore on, a light breeze stirred the waters into wavelets which gently lapped the shores of various islands of the Cyclades which they passed; islands filled with sanctuaries and fanes of white marble which gleamed ghost-like in the gathering dusk. At length the moon loomed colossal beyond the island of Paros, throwing up contours into misty and spectral relief, and softening all things with its touch of silver.

The festive boats passed Paros, with its temple to Poseidon, the occupants gazing ahead in eager anticipation till the rocky promontories of Naxos arose darkly from the pathway of phosphorescence, then with one impulse from every throat burst the hymn to Dionysus. Nearer and nearer came the celebrants, loftier grew the cliffs of the island and louder echoed the pæan until at last the boats drew up one by one in a sheltered cove.
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Dense foliage grew close to the steep pathway, the ascent of which was facilitated by steps cut in the soil or formed naturally by the exposed roots of trees. Through the branches the newcomers could see the lights, twinkling as people passed to and fro—then the white columns and the pleasing proportions of the temple came into view.

Persephone, Ephialtes and Agne were the first arrivals of the first boat, and made their way unhindered to the temple which they entered, mingling with the delirious throng whose acclamations rang through the great hall. It seemed to the arrivals from Athens that every inhabitant of Naxos was here celebrating.

A great gong silenced the sound of talking and laughter after all the Athenians had arrived. A curtain at the end of the cella dropped revealing the image of the god of wine and revelry and immediately a hymn of praise was sung following which the sacrifice of a goat was consummated at the feet of the idol.

Night was turned into day, wine flowed freely and many a youth’s spirits rose in proportion to the amount of wine he imbibed. To all this revelry Persephone and Agne were horrified witnesses. They had heard that Dionysus was worshipped with much rejoicing, especially at his temple at Naxos, but they had not had occasion to realize to what depths ............