Solon - Chapter 1

March 2011

It came to pass in the first year of the Archon Damasias, that the noble Execestides’ house was without child. His wife, Sophia, having past the childbearing age, made a pilgrimage to Temple of Artemis to make the proper sacrifices. She laid out her prayer before the great statue of the Goddess: “Oh Great Goddess, I beseech thee to make this womb of mine fertile like the wheatfields!”

Six months hence, she was still without child, so the wise Execestides, spoke to her thus: “It is better for a man to have a wife fully devoted to her husband, than to have a wife busy with the chores of motherhood. Fear not, for my love has no conditions and no expectations.”

His words brought her a great joy, but her mother spoke to her with great caution: “For a man of wealth and taste to have a barren wife is a folly, but for a man of wealth and taste to not have an heir is a folly of follies.” Henceforth, Sophia was watchful of her husband, as to try and catch him with a mistress. Her paranoia grew into distrust, and distrust into depression.

Execestides, noticing her melancholy and wanted to see his wife in better spirits, insisted she take part in the City Dionysia Festival; Execestides, being the owner of an import/export business in budtling Athens, informed her that he would only be able to partake in the civil ceremonies earlier in the day, as his work opportunities were pressing at the current moment.

When the first day of the City Dionysia arrived, Execestides and Sophia attended the choral performances and were moved to tears and laughter alike by the Dithyrambs sung by men and boys alike. Sophia needed to releave herself between Dithyrambs and excused herself to a place of privacy. While returning she noticed a stranger whom she did not recognize. He introduced himself as Euphorion the Reveler, and asked if she would be partaking in the evening’s festivities. She shook him off and returned to her husband, only to later notice him as being one in the Chorus. She spoke not of this to her husband.

When at long last her husband was ready to depart to go over his books at his office near the docks, Sophia grew suspicious and followed him there. After half an hour of watching his office from afar did she finally resign herself and made her way back to their home.

The next day, Execestides and Sophia embarked again, this time watching one a comedy. Sophia could not help but have her eyes lingering upon the giant Phalluses that paraded around, and there was something mischievous she thought in the High Priest of Dionysos’ eyes. She dismissed it though, only to notice

Euphorion was one of the actors on the stage. His performance was moving as he portrayed King Midas. At times on the stage he seemed to peer into her eyes and speak to her soul. Afterwards, she told her husband she thought she would stay after. It was only mere moments after Execestides made his exit than Euphorion appeared before her once more.

“Fair lady, will you take part in the festivities tonight? I promise you shall not regret the experience. Allow me to be your guide.” To this, she consented.

At the center of the festivities was a large bonfire, around which men were drumming, women were dancing, and the wine flowed like water down the stream. In the meadows surrounding the amphitheatre cloaked in shadow she could just barely make out groups of people frolicking and making love. Euphorion and Sophia partook of much wine together until the Enthusiasm raced through their veins. He beseeched her to let go, and let Dionysos, Himself, take control. She let him take her, what conscious part of her was left deep inside figured she was barren anyway, and her husband was likely not being faithful as well. Euphorion made love with a force, stamina, and dominance only seemingly superhuman. He filled her to the brim with his seed, before he passed out on top of her. Morning’s first light found them there, many were still partaking of the drink, some were just returning from the spiritual walk to the Bridge in honour of the God. She squirmed out from under his weight, and made her way back to her home, finding her husband not yet awake. She slipped into bed with him, promising never to tell him of what had occurred that evening.

Months passed, and she had taken ill, her mother came to her bedside and began to administer to her, when suddenly she exclaimed: “Hark! My child, my only daughter, if ye have ears, let them hear, for you are not afflicted with any malady, but with a growing inside you, these are not the symptoms of plague, but of pregnancy!”