[Footnote 15: Charicles does not farther explain the nature of his offence but the ancient thought that even an accidental, involuntary intrusion into any ceremonies or mysteries at which it was not lawful for the intruder to be present, was always followed by some punishment. Quartilla in Petronius says, "Neque enim quisquam impunè quod non licuit aspexit." "Inscia quod crimen viderunt lumina, plector, Peccatumque oculos est habuisse, meum!"--Ovid. ] [Footnote 16: See the fine Chorus in the Œdipus Coloneus,--the subject being the pursuit after the daughters of Œdipus, carried off by Creon, 1045-1100.] BOOK V. "How the city of Delphos succeeded in their pursuit, I had no opportunity of learning; their being thus engaged, however, gave me an excellent opportunity for the flight which I meditated. Taking, therefore, my young companions, I led them down to the sea, and put them aboard the Phœnician vessel, which was just ready to set sail, for day now beginning to break, the merchants thought they had kept the promise they had made, of waiting for me a day and a night. Seeing us however appear, they received us with great joy, and immediately proceeded out of the harbour, at first using their oars, then a moderate breeze rising from the land, and a gentle swell of the sea[1]caressing as it were the stern of our ship, they hoisted sail, and committed the vessel to the wind. "We passed with rapidity the Cirrhæan gulf, the promontory of Parnassus, the Ætolian and Calydonian rocks, and the Oxian isles, _sharp_[2] both in name and figure, and the sea of Zacynthus began to appear as the sun sank towards the west. But why am I thus tedious? Why do I forget you and myself, and, by extending my narration, embark you upon a boundless ocean? Let us stop here a while, and both of us take a little rest; for though I know you are a very patient hearer, and strive excellently against sleep, yet I have prosecuted the account of my troubles to so unseasonable an hour, that I think you at last begin to give in. My age, too, and the remembrance of my sufferings, weigh down my spirits, and require repose." "Stop then, Father," replied Cnemon, "not on my account, for I could attend untired to your story many days and nights; it is to me as the siren's strains; but I have for some time heard a tumult and noise in the house; I was rather alarmed at it, but my great desire to hear the remainder of your discourse prevented me from interrupting you."