Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1873-10-11
IngOmar, the Barbarian.

suing and capturing, of crushing and
killing, of triumph and booty. Curses
are at home in his mouth. He is des-
potic and tyrapnical. His will is his all
sufficient logic. He worships liberty,
youth and strength, and thinks strength
only is free. All that he expects, when
he shall have grown haired and in
firm, is to sit under a tree and await
the summons of the gods. He thinks
that vigor only is life, and that life
without it is like a sheath without a
blade, culver without arrows. He
has no pity for cowardice, not even in
the old and decrepit, and despises the
egotism that clings to life. The hunts,
the rude banquets, the combats and the
| dangers of his adventurous life content
him. His idea of womanhood is bar
barous. He believes that women are
false, playing the coquette from the
cradle up. At first he is so Indifferent
to Parthenia, who has voluntarily placed
herself in servitude to him to redeem
her father, that he would send her away
because she is of no use. He boasts
that he never knew fear, and first ad-
mires Parthenia when her pride mas
ters her tears. But he still regards her
as a chattel, and wishes she could make
swords instead of wreathe cups with
roses. He is first brought to think
tenderly of her because of her resem-
blance to his little brother, who has
died.
He is prone to think of the use of
things rather than their beauty, and ad-
mires cups and vases as utensils, and
not because Parthenia adorns them with
flowers. By degrees he comes to praise
her workmanship, and swears by the
beams of the sun it pleases him. But
he wakes to sense of Parthenia's puri-
ty slowly. He strikes his sword and
calls it his wife. He is almost a woman
hater, not because he has been deceiv-
ed, but because he has not yet seen any
woman worthy to be loved. The con-
versation between him and Parthenia
is ingeniously led up to love by con-
sideration of the different methods in
which wives are wooed by the Greeks
and the wild tribes he governs. He
knows no love beyond comradeship.
But bending beneath the indefnable
influence of Parthenia, he begins plnck-
ing for her the very flowers which, a
few moments ago, he forbade her to
pluck. He even promises to bring the
freshest and best perfumed. By his
reference to his little dead brother, it
is shown that he was always the servant
of those whom he loved, and thus the
incredibility of his seemingly sudden
change is softened. Passion is first
woke in him by Parthenia's singing
"What love is wouldst thou be taught.
He falls into reverie, whence it is i'm
possible to rouse him. He tries in vain
to break the chain that binds him.
That chain is love, and until now he
has never felt it's power. He is thrown
into an agonizing tumult. His soul,
for the first time, is wounded with the
clash of arms. Yet he bushes for this
dream of love and seeks to reconcile his
past life with his present feelings by
wishing Parthenia were his younger
brother. Again and again he returns
dreamily to the burden of her song,
Two souls with but a single thought
Two hearts that beat as one.
At last, in an excess of savage pas
sion, he informs Parthenia that she
must be his. His wild habits gaining
the upper hand he reminds Parthenia
that she is his slave but is struck
dumb by her standing motionless before
his appraised sword and preferring death
rather than submission to his embrace.
He weeps, he who had despised tears,
and wincing beneath her scorn of his
violence gives her her liberty. In the
midst of all this conflict he is conscious
of his superiority to his comrades, and
wishes her to feel it too. He conducts
her honorably to the borders of her own
land, and as he does so, she carrying his
lance and shield and he bearing her
basket of berries, the exchange is as ef-
fective and picturesque bit of antithe-
sis as any dramatist has everintroduced.
When finally Parthenia is about to bid
him adieu, he wishes that he were sunk
with his shield in the swamp, that
Massilia were at the bottom of the sea,
that ships sailed over its towers, and
that canes and reeds rose instead OF
spires. All his sensuality gives way to
nobler feelings. He beseeches her to
stay with him. She tells him that he is
bright star yelled with mist, rough
gem before the artifcer has fired its
tremulous rays, that he worships only
strength, that his sole argument is his
sword, and that order and law are
foreign to him. She reminds him that
a common law ard sweet customs must
find those whom love has united, in
order that esteem may purify and pre-.
: serve the warmth of youth. He quivers
beneath her words, and the lingering
savagery of his nature construes them
into insults but, with heart as great
and beautiful as his native forests, he
conquers himself, asserts his own worth
and acknowledges his willingness tc
become Greek. He grows docile, ac
companies ner home, aud implores hel
father, who had once been his despiseC
: captive, to teach him. He doffs hi
hides, trims his hair and beard, conducts
the plow, works at the anvil, and ever
delivers up his sword. He meekly en-
dures the taunts of Parthenia's s mother
but he cannot master conventionalisms
, He worships the candor of the fores
still, and cannot become obsequious tt
the Timarch. He refuses to betray hi
recent comrades and is willing to foregc
all the gifts and honors promised him
Parthenia into the bargain, rather thai
act the spy. Driven forth at last b,
/, the people of whom he hoped to becom,
one, he learns with ecstasy that Par
thenia will accompany him. Uncon
sciously to himself he has convinced
her that all is comprehended in the git
, of n heavenly heart.