Kallias was at her day by day about the question of a divorce. He told her her husband’s conduct had been such that she had only to go before the Archon Eponymos, tell him her wrongs, pray for justice, and, by the law of Athens, he could not refuse it to her. But she must go herself in person before the magistrate. She began to think of this, though with a different design to that of poor, mean Kallias. Yet how terrible to go before so high a judge to accuse her husband, and lay bare the secrets of their married life. At length she made a trembling resolution. On the last day of June, as Alkibiades was sitting over his morning meal alone, full of many thoughts and plans, and for the moment had almost forgotten his domestic troubles, his friend Polytion, rushing in, told him the news, already known by half the town, that Hippareté was even now in court before the Archon Eponymos suing for—— That was enough. Through the portico and down the steps he went and swept along the streets of Athens. The people stood aside to let him pass, staring with wonder at his hurried appearance, for he never stopped nor noticed anyone till he had reached the Agora and the Archon’s court. With a look of indignation on his face, he imperiously brushed aside the crowd of loiterers who thronged the building, and there before the Archon he saw Hippareté standing like a suppliant. Two women supported her on either side, while Kallias stood smiling near her. At the last moment her courage had forsaken her; she could hardly speak a word. Had it been an ordinary case the judge would have grown impatient by this time. As it was the daughter of Hipponikos, the wife of Alkibiades, he listened patiently, and tried to help the faltering lady. But before he could get her story from her there was a loud disturbance in the building as Alkibiades strode in, and, seizing his wife in both his arms, as she stood trembling before the Archon, bore her off in triumph. And yet she triumphed too. With womanly insight, she had foreseen the probability of this; and thus she triumphed. As we read the ancient story of this man’s life, with all his faults and all his greatness; as we assist, as it were, at the tournament perpetually going on between the nobler aims and the lower passions, between the loftier hopes and the desire for immediate enjoyments, we view, from this far distance, often with feelings of despair, the worse part of him constantly thwarting, sometimes spoiling, his highest efforts, his greatest victories. But in judging of his actions it is only fair to recollect the manners of the times in which he lived. We may condemn the morals of that age, and those who try to imitate them in our own; she could forgive him; let us not pass too harsh a judgment upon him. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VII