{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_14994/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_14994","id":"gutenberg_14994","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14994","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Greek drama (Tragedy) -- Stories, plots, etc."],"text":"Produced by David Kline, Josephine Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson and\nthe PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE CHARIOT OF ZEUS]\n\n\n\n\nStories from the Greek Tragedians\n\nBy the\n\nREV. ALFRED J. CHURCH, M.A.\n\nAUTHOR OF\n\n\"Stories from Homer\" and \"Stories from Virgil\"\n\nWith Twenty Illustrations from Designs\n\nby FLAXMAN and Others\n\nNew York\n\nDodd, Mead and Company\n\nPublishers\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nI have added to the \"Story of the Seven Chiefs against Thebes\" the\ndescription of the single combat between Eteocles and Polynices, which\noccurs in the _Phoenissae_ of Euripides. Some changes have been made in\nthe \"Story of Ion\" to make it more suitable for the purpose of this\nbook. Throughout the Stories compression and omission have been freely\nused. I can only ask the indulgence of such of my readers as may be\nfamiliar with the great originals of which I have given these pale and\nineffectual copies.\n\nRETFORD,\n\n_October_ 11, 1879.\n\n\n\n\nTo my Sons,\n\nALFRED, MAURICE, HERBERT,\n\nRICHARD, EDWARD, HARALD.\n\nThis Book\n\nIS DEDICATED.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE LOVE OF ALCESTIS\n\nTHE STORY OF THE VENGEANCE OF MEDEA\n\nTHE STORY OF THE DEATH OF HERCULES\n\nTHE STORY OF THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES\n\nTHE STORY OF ANTIGONE\n\nTHE STORY OF IPHIGENIA IN AULIS\n\nTHE STORY OF PHILOCTETES, OR THE BOW OF HERCULES\n\nTHE STORY OF THE DEATH OF AGAMEMNON\n\nTHE STORY OF ELECTRA, OR THE RETURN OF ORESTES\n\nTHE STORY OF THE FURIES, OR THE LOOSING OF ORESTES\n\nTHE STORY OF IPHIGENIA AMONG THE TAURIANS\n\nTHE STORY OF THE PERSIANS, OR THE BATTLE OF SALAMIS\n\nTHE STORY OF ION\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\nTHE CHARIOT OF ZEUS      _Frontispiece._\n\nPELIAS SENDING FORTH JASON\n\nHERCULES ON MOUNT OETA\n\nOEDIPUS AND THE SPHINX\n\nTHE OATH OF THE SEVEN CHIEFS\n\nTHE DEAD BROTHERS\n\nANTIGONE AND THE BODY OF POLYNICES\n\n\"THE EMPTY JOY THAT DWELLS IN THE DREAMS OF THE NIGHT\"\n\nTHE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON\n\nTHE MURDER OF AGAMEMNON\n\nELECTRA AND ORESTES\n\nCHARIOT RACE\n\nTHE BIRTHDAY GIFTS OF PHOEBUS\n\nORESTES SUPPLIANT TO APOLLO\n\nTHE FURIES DEPARTING\n\nORESTES AND THE FURIES\n\nIPHIGENIA AND ORESTES\n\nOFFERINGS TO THE DEAD\n\nATOSSA'S DREAM\n\nTHE HORSES OF THE MORNING\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE LOVE OF ALCESTIS.\n\n\nAsclepius, the son of Apollo, being a mighty physician, raised men from\nthe dead. But Zeus was wroth that a man should have such power, and so\nmake of no effect the ordinance of the Gods. Wherefore he smote\nAsclepius with a thunderbolt and slew him. And when Apollo knew this, he\nslew the Cyclopes that had made the thunderbolts for his father Zeus,\nfor men say that they make them on their forges that are in the mountain\nof Etna. But Zeus suffered not this deed to go unpunished, but passed\nthis sentence on his son Apollo, that he should serve a mortal man for\nthe space of a whole year. Wherefore, for all that he was a god, he kept\nthe sheep of Admetus, who was the Prince of Pherae in Thessaly. And\nAdmetus knew not that he was a god; but, nevertheless, being a just man,\ndealt truly with him. And it came to pass after this that Admetus was\nsick unto death. But Apollo gained this grace for him of the Fates\n(which order of life and death for men), that he should live, if only he\ncould find some one who should be willing to die in his stead. And he\nwent to all his kinsmen and friends and asked this thing of them, but\nfound no one that was willing so to die; only Alcestis his wife was\nwilling.\n\nAnd when the day was come on the which it was appointed for her to die,\nDeath came that he might fetch her. And when he was come, he found\nApollo walking to and fro before the palace of King Admetus, having his\nbow in his hand. And when Death saw him, he said--\n\n\"What doest thou here, Apollo? Is it not enough for thee to have kept\nAdmetus from his doom? Dost thou keep watch and ward over this woman\nwith thine arrows and thy bow?\"\n\n\"Fear not,\" the god made answer, \"I have justice on my side.\"\n\n\"If thou hast justice, what need of thy bow?\"\n\n\"'Tis my wont to carry it.\"\n\n\"Ay, and it is thy wont to help this house beyond all right and law.\"\n\n\"Nay, but I was troubled at the sorrows of one that I loved, and helped\nhim.\"\n\n\"I know thy cunning speech and fair ways; but this woman thou shalt not\ntake from me.\"\n\n\"But consider; thou canst but have one life. Wilt thou not take another\nin her stead?\"\n\n\"Her and no other will I have, for my honour is the greater when I take\nthe young.\"\n\n\"I know thy temper, hated both of Gods and of men. But there cometh a\nguest to this house, whom Eurystheus sendeth to the snowy plains of\nThrace, to fetch the horses of Lycurgus. Haply he shall persuade thee\nagainst thy will.\"\n\n\"Say what thou wilt; it shall avail nothing. And now I go to cut off a\nlock of her hair, for I take these firstfruits of them that die.\"\n\nIn the meantime, within the palace, Alcestis prepared herself for death.\nAnd first she washed her body with pure water from the river, and then\nshe took from her coffer of cedar her fairest apparel, and adorned\nherself therewith. Then, being so arranged, she stood before the hearth\nand prayed, saying, \"O Queen Here, behold! I depart this day. Do thou\ntherefore keep my children, giving to this one a noble husband and to\nthat a loving wife.\" And all the altars that were in the house she\nvisited in like manner, crowning them with myrtle leaves and praying at\nthem. Nor did she weep at all, or groan, or grow pale. But at the last,\nwhen she came to her chamber, she cast herself upon the bed and kissed\nit, crying, \"I hate thee not, though I die for thee, giving myself for\nmy husband. And thee another wife shall possess, not more true than I\nam, but, maybe, more fortunate!\" And after she had left the chamber, she\nturned to it again and again with many tears. And all the while her\nchildren clung to her garments, and she took them up in her arms, the\none first and then the other, and kissed them. And all the servants that\nwere in the house bewailed their mistress, nor did she fail to reach her\nhand to each of them, greeting him. There was not one of them so vile\nbut she spake to him and was spoken to again.\n\nAfter this, when the hour was now come when she must die, she cried to\nher husband (for he held her in his arms, as if he would have stayed her\nthat she should not depart), \"I see the boat of the dead, and Charon\nstanding with his hand upon the pole, who calleth me, saying, 'Hasten;\nthou delayest us;' and then again, 'A winged messenger of the dead\nlooketh at me from under his dark eyebrows, and would lead me away. Dost\nthou not see him?'\" Then after this she seemed now ready to die, yet\nagain she gathered strength, and said to the King, \"Listen, and I will\ntell thee before I die what I would have thee do. Thou knowest how I\nhave given my life for thy life. For when I might have lived, and had\nfor my husband any prince of Thessaly that I would--and dwelt here in\nwealth and royal state, yet could I not endure to be widowed of thee and\nthat thy children should be fatherless. There, fore I spared not myself,\nthough thy father and she that bare thee betrayed thee. But the Gods\nhave ordered all this after their own pleasure. So be it. Do thou\ntherefore make this recompense, which indeed thou owest to me, for what\nwill not a man give for his life? Thou lovest these children even as I\nlove them. Suffer them then to be rulers in this house, and bring not a\nstep-mother over them who shall hate them and deal with them unkindly.\nA son, indeed, hath a tower of strength in his father. But, O my\ndaughter, how shall it fare with thee, for thy mother will not give thee\nin marriage, nor be with thee, comforting thee in thy travail of\nchildren, when a mother most showeth kindness and love. And now\nfarewell, for I die this day. And thou, too, farewell, my husband. Thou\nlosest a true wife, and ye, too, my children, a true mother.\"\n\nThen Admetus made answer, \"Fear not, it shall be as thou wilt. I could\nnot find other wife fair and well born and true as thou. Never more\nshall I gather revellers in my palace, or crown my head with garlands,\nor hearken to the voice of music. Never shall I touch the harp or sing\nto the Libyan flute. And some cunning craftsman shall make an image\nfashioned like unto thee, and this I will hold in my arms and think of\nthee. Cold comfort indeed, yet that shall ease somewhat of the burden of\nmy soul. But oh! that I had the voice and melody of Orpheus, for then\nhad I gone down to Hell and persuaded the Queen thereof or her husband\nwith my song to let thee go; nor would the watch-dog of Pluto, nor\nCharon that ferrieth the dead, have hindered me but that I had brought\nthee to the light. But do thou wait for me there, for there will I dwell\nwith thee; and when I die they shall lay me by thy side, for never was\nwife so true as thou.\"\n\nThen said Alcestis, \"Take these children as a gift from me, and be as a\nmother to them.\"\n\n\"O me!\" he cried, \"what shall I do, being bereaved of thee?\"\n\nAnd she said, \"Time will comfort thee; the dead are as nothing.\"\n\nBut he said, \"Nay, but let me depart with thee.\"\n\nBut the Queen made answer, \"'Tis enough that I die in thy stead.\"\n\nAnd when she had thus spoken she gave up the ghost.\n\nThen the King said to the old men that were gathered together to comfort\nhim, \"I will see to this burial. And do ye sing a hymn as is meet to the\ngod of the dead. And to all my people I make this decree: that they\nmourn for this woman, and clothe themselves in black, and shave their\nheads, and that such as have horses cut off their manes, and that there\nbe not heard in the city the voice of the flute or the sound of the harp\nfor the space of twelve months.\"\n\nThen the old men sang the hymn as they had been bidden. And when they\nhad finished, it befell that Hercules, who was on a journey, came to the\npalace and asked whether King Admetus was sojourning there.\n\nAnd the old men answered, \"'Tis even so, Hercules. But what, I pray\nthee, bringeth thee to this land?\"\n\n\"I am bound on an errand for King Eurystheus; even to bring back to him\nhorses of King Diomed.\"\n\n\"How wilt thou do this? Dost thou not know this Diomed?\"\n\n\"I know nought of him, nor of his land.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt not master him or his horses without blows.\"\n\n\"Even so, yet I may not refuse the tasks that are set to me.\"\n\n\"Thou art resolved then to do this thing or to die?\"\n\n\"Ay; and this is not the first race that I have run.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt not easily bridle these horses.\"\n\n\"Why not? They breathe not fire from their nostrils.\"\n\n\"No, but they devour the flesh of men.\"\n\n\"What sayest thou? This is the food of wild beasts, not of horses.\"\n\n\"Yet 'tis true. Thou wilt see their mangers foul with blood.\"\n\n\"And the master of these steeds, whose son is he?\"\n\n\"He is son of Ares, lord of the land of Thrace.\"\n\n\"Now this is a strange fate and a hard that maketh me fight ever with\nthe sons of Ares, with Lycaon first, and with Cycnus next, and now with\nthis King Diomed. But none shall ever see the son of Alcmena trembling\nbefore an enemy.\"\n\nAnd now King Admetus came forth from the palace. And when the two had\ngreeted one another, Hercules would fain know why the King had shaven\nhis hair as one that mourned for the dead. And the King answered that he\nwas about to bury that day one that was dear to him.\n\nAnd when Hercules inquired yet further who this might be, the King said\nthat his children were well, and his father also, and his mother. But of\nhis wife he answered so that Hercules understood not that he spake of\nher. For he said that she was a stranger by blood, yet near in\nfriendship, and that she had dwelt in his house, having been left an\norphan of her father. Nevertheless Hercules would have departed and\nfound entertainment elsewhere, for he would not be troublesome to his\nhost. But the King suffered him not. And to the servant that stood by he\nsaid, \"Take thou this guest to the guest-chamber; and see that they that\nhave charge of these matters set abundance of food before him. And take\ncare that ye shut the doors between the chambers and the palace; for it\nis not meet that the guest at his meal should hear the cry of them that\nmourn.\"\n\nAnd when the old men would know why the King, having so great a trouble\nupon him, yet entertained a guest, he made answer.\n\n\"Would ye have commended me the more if I had caused him to depart from\nthis house and this city? For my sorrow had not been one whit the less,\nand I had lost the praise of hospitality. And a right worthy host is he\nto me if ever I chance to visit the land of Argos.\"\n\nAnd now they had finished all things for the burying of Alcestis, when\nthe old man Pheres, the father of the King, approached, and servants\ncame with him bearing robes and crowns and other adornments wherewith to\ndo honour to the dead. And when he was come over against the bier\nwhereon they had laid the dead woman, he spake to the King, saying, \"I\nam come to mourn with thee, my son, for thou hast lost a noble wife.\nOnly thou must endure, though this indeed is a hard thing. But take\nthese adornments, for it is meet that she should he honoured who died\nfor thee, and for me also, that I should not go down to the grave\nchildless.\" And to the dead he said, \"Fare thou well, noble wife, that\nhast kept this house from falling. May it be well with thee in the\ndwellings of the dead!\"\n\nBut the King answered him in great wrath, \"I did not bid thee to this\nburial, nor shall this dead woman be adorned with gifts of thine. Who\nart thou that thou shouldest bewail her? Surely thou art not father of\nmine. For being come to extreme old age, yet thou wouldst not die for\nthy son, but sufferedst this woman, being a stranger in blood, to die\nfor me. Her therefore I count father and mother also. Yet this had been\na noble deed for thee, seeing that the span of life that was left to\nthee was short. And I too had not been left to live out my days thus\nmiserably, being bereaved of her whom I loved. Hast thou not had all\nhappiness, thus having lived in kingly power from youth to age? And thou\nwouldst have left a son to come after thee, that thy house should not be\nspoiled by thine enemies. Have I not always done due reverence to thee\nand to my mother? And, lo! this is the recompense that ye make me.\nWherefore I say to thee, make haste and raise other sons who may nourish\nthee in thy old age, and pay thee due honour when thou art dead, for I\nwill not bury thee. To thee I am dead.\"\n\nThen the old man spake, \"Thinkest thou that thou art driving some Lydian\nand Phrygian slave that hath been bought with money, and forgettest that\nI am a freeborn man of Thessaly, as my father was freeborn before me? I\nreared thee to rule this house after me; but to die for thee, that I\nowed thee not. This is no custom among the Greeks that a father should\ndie for his son. To thyself thou livest or diest. All that was thy due\nthou hast received of me; the kingdom over many people, and, in due\ntime, broad lands which I also received of my father. How have I wronged\nthee? Of what have I defrauded thee? I ask thee not to die for me; and I\ndie not for thee. Thou lovest to behold this light. Thinkest thou that\nthy father loveth it not? For the years of the dead are very long; but\nthe days of the living are short yet sweet withal. But I say to thee\nthat thou hast fled from thy fate in shameless fashion, and hast slain\nthis woman. Yea, a woman hath vanquished thee, and yet thou chargest\ncowardice against me. In truth, 'tis a wise device of thine that thou\nmayest live for ever, if marrying many times, thou canst still persuade\nthy wife to die for thee. Be silent then, for shame's sake; and if thou\nlovest life, remember that others love it also.\"\n\nSo King Admetus and his father reproached each other with many unseemly\nwords. And when the old man had departed, they carried forth Alcestis to\nher burial.\n\nBut when they that bare the body had departed, there came in the old\nman that had the charge of the guest-chambers, and spake, saying, \"I\nhave seen many guests that have come from all the lands under the sun to\nthis palace of Admetus, but never have I given entertainment to such\nevil guest as this. For first, knowing that my lord was in sore trouble\nand sorrow, he forebore not to enter these gates. And then he took his\nentertainment in most unseemly fashion; for if he lacked aught he would\ncall loudly for it; and then, taking a great cup wreathed with leaves of\nivy in his hands, he drank great draughts of red wine untempered with\nwater. And when the fire of the wine had warmed him, he crowned his head\nwith myrtle boughs, and sang in the vilest fashion. Then might one hear\ntwo melodies, this fellow's songs, which he sang without thought for the\ntroubles of my lord and the lamentation wherewith we servants lamented\nour mistress. But we suffered not this stranger to see our tears, for so\nmy lord had commanded. Surely this is a grievous thing that I must\nentertain this stranger, who surely is some thief or robber. And\nmeanwhile they have taken my mistress to her grave, and I followed not\nafter her, nor reached my hand to her, that was as a mother to all that\ndwell in this place.\"\n\nWhen the man had so spoken, Hercules came forth from the guest-chamber,\ncrowned with myrtle, having his face flushed with wine. And he cried to\nthe servant, saying, \"Ho, there! why lookest thou so solemn and full of\ncare? Thou shouldst not scowl on thy guest after this fashion, being\nfull of some sorrow that concerns thee not nearly. Come hither, and I\nwill teach thee to be wiser. Knowest thou what manner of thing the life\nof a man is? I trow not. Hearken therefore. There is not a man who\nknoweth what a day may bring forth. Therefore I say to thee: Make glad\nthy heart; eat, drink, count the day that now is to be thine own, but\nall else to be doubtful. As for all other things, let them be, and\nhearken to my words. Put away this great grief that lieth upon thee, and\nenter into this chamber, and drink with me. Right soon shall the\ntinkling of the wine as it falleth into the cup ease thee of these\ngloomy thoughts. As thou art a man, be wise after the fashion of a man;\nfor to them that are of a gloomy countenance, life, if only I judge\nrightly, is not life but trouble only.\"\n\nThen the servant answered, \"All this I know; but we have fared so ill in\nthis house that mirth and laughter ill beseem us.\"\n\n\"But they tell me that this dead woman was a stranger. Why shouldst thou\nbe so troubled, seeing that they who rule this house yet live.\"\n\n\"How sayest thou that they live? Thou knowest not what trouble we\nendure.\"\n\n\"I know it, unless thy lord strangely deceived me.\"\n\n\"My lord is given to hospitality.\"\n\n\"And should it hinder him that there is some stranger dead in the\nhouse?\"\n\n\"A stranger, sayest thou? 'Tis passing strange to call her thus.\"\n\n\"Hath thy lord then suffered some sorrow that he told me not?\"\n\n\"Even so, or I had not loathed to see thee at thy revels. Thou seest\nthis shaven hair and these black robes.\"\n\n\"What then? who is dead? One of thy lord's children, or the old man his\nfather?\"\n\n\"Stranger, 'tis the wife of Admetus that is dead.\"\n\n\"What sayest thou? And yet he gave me entertainment?\"\n\n\"Yea, for he would not, for shame, turn thee from his house.\"\n\n\"O miserable man, what a helpmeet thou hast lost!\"\n\n\"Ay, and we are all lost with her.\"\n\n\"Well I knew it; for I saw the tears in his eyes, and his head shaven,\nand his sorrowful regard; but he deceived me, saying that the dead woman\nwas a stranger. Therefore did I enter the doors and make merry, and\ncrown myself with garlands, not knowing what had befallen my host. But\ncome, tell me; where doth he bury her? Where shall I find her?\"\n\n\"Follow straight along the road that leadeth to Larissa, and thou wilt\nsee her tomb in the outskirts of the city.\"\n\nThen said Hercules to himself, \"O my heart, thou hast dared many great\ndeeds before this day; and now most of all must I show myself a true son\nof Zeus. Now will I save this dead woman Alcestis, and give her back to\nher husband, and make due recompense to Admetus. I will go, therefore,\nand watch for this black-robed king, even Death. Methinks I shall find\nhim nigh unto the tomb, drinking the blood of the sacrifices. There will\nI lie in wait for him and run upon him, and throw my arms about him, nor\nshall any one deliver him out of my hands, till he have given up to me\nthis woman. But if it chance that I find him not there, and he come not\nto the feast of blood, I will go down to the Queen of Hell, to the land\nwhere the sun shineth not, and beg her of the Queen; and doubtless she\nwill give her to me, that I may give her to her husband. For right nobly\ndid he entertain me, and drave me not from his house, for all that he\nhad been stricken by such sorrow. Is there a man in Thessaly, nay in the\nwhole land of Greece, that is such a lover of hospitality? I trow not.\nNoble is he, and he shall know that he is no ill friend to whom he hath\ndone this thing.\"\n\nSo he went his way. And when he was gone, Admetus came back from the\nburying of his wife, a great company following him, of whom the elders\nsought to comfort him in his sorrow. And when he was come to the gates\nof his palace he cried, \"How shall I enter thee? how shall I dwell in\nthee? Once I came within thy gates with many pine-torches from Pelion,\nand the merry noise of the marriage song, holding in my hand the hand of\nher that is dead; and after us followed a troop that magnified her and\nme, so noble a pair we were. And now with wailing instead of marriage\nsongs, and garments of black for white wedding robes, I go to my\ndesolate couch.\"\n\nBut while he yet lingered before the palace Hercules came back, leading\nwith him a woman that was covered with a veil. And when he saw the King\nhe said, \"I hold it well to speak freely to one that is a friend, and\nthat a man should not hide a grudge in his heart. Hear me, therefore.\nThough I was worthy to be counted thy friend, yet thou saidst not that\nthy wife lay dead in thy house, but suffered me to feast and make merry.\nFor this, therefore, I blame thee. And now I will tell thee why I am\nreturned. I pray thee, keep this woman against the day when I shall come\nback from the land of Thrace, bringing the horses of King Diomed. And\nif it should fare ill with me, let her abide here and serve thee. Not\nwithout toil came she into my hands. I found as I went upon my way that\ncertain men had ordered contests for wrestlers and runners, and the\nlike. Now for them that had the pre-eminence in lesser things there were\nhorses for prizes; and for the greater, as wrestling and boxing, a\nreward of oxen, to which was added this woman. And now I would have thee\nkeep her, for which thing, haply, thou wilt one day thank me.\"\n\nTo this the King answered, \"I thought no slight when I hid this truth\nfrom thee. Only it would have been for me sorrow upon sorrow if thou\nhadst gone to the house of another. But as for this woman, I would have\nthee ask this thing of some prince of Thessaly that hath not suffered\nsuch grief as I. In Pherae here thou hast many friends; but I could not\nlook upon her without tears. Add not then this new trouble. And also how\ncould she, being young, abide in my house, for young I judge her to be?\nAnd of a truth, lady, thou art very like in shape and stature to my\nAlcestis that is dead. I pray you, take her from my sight, for she\ntroubleth my heart, and my tears run over with beholding her.\"\n\nThen said Hercules, \"Would I had such strength that I could bring back\nthy wife from the dwellings of the dead, and put her in thy hands.\"\n\n\"I know thy good will, but what profiteth it? No man may bring back the\ndead.\"\n\n\"Well, time will soften thy grief, which yet is new.\"\n\n\"Yea, if by time thou meanest death.\"\n\n\"But a new wife will comfort thee.\"\n\n\"Hold thy peace; such a thing cometh not into my thoughts.\"\n\n\"What? wilt thou always keep this widowed state?\"\n\n\"Never shall woman more be wife of mine.\"\n\n\"What will this profit her that is dead?\"\n\n\"I know not, yet had I sooner die than be false to her.\"\n\n\"Yet I would have thee take this woman into thy house.\"\n\n\"Ask it not of me, I entreat thee, by thy father Zeus.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt lose much if thou wilt not do it.\"\n\n\"And if I do it I shall break my heart.\"\n\n\"Haply some day thou wilt thank me; only be persuaded.\"\n\n\"Be it so: they shall take the woman into the house.\"\n\n\"I would not have thee entrust her to thy servants.\"\n\n\"If thou so thinkest, lead her in thyself.\"\n\n\"Nay, but I would give her into thy hands.\"\n\n\"I touch her not, but my house she may enter.\"\n\n\"'Tis only to thy hand I entrust her.\"\n\n\"O King, thou compellest me to this against my will.\"\n\n\"Stretch forth thy hand and touch her.\"\n\n\"I touch her as I would touch the Gorgon's head.\"\n\n\"Hast thou hold of her?\"\n\n\"I have hold.\"\n\n\"Then keep her safe, and say that the son of Zeus is a noble friend. See\nif she be like thy wife; and change thy sorrow for joy.\"\n\nAnd when the King looked, lo! the veiled woman was Alcestis his wife.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE VENGEANCE OF MEDEA.\n\n\nJason, being of right the prince of Iolcos in the land of Thessaly, came\nback to his kingdom. But Pelias, who had now for many years taken it for\nhimself, spake him fair, and persuaded him that he should go on some\nadventure, and find glory and renown for himself, and so return; and he\nsware that afterwards he would peaceably give up the kingdom. Now in the\nland of Colchis, which lieth to the east of the sea which men call the\nHospitable Sea, there was kept a great treasure, even the fleece of a\ngreat ram, which had been sacrificed there in time past. A marvellous\nbeast was this ram, for it had flown through the air to Colchis from the\nland of Greece; and its fleece was of pure gold. So Jason gathered\ntogether many valiant men, sons of gods and heroes, such as were\nHercules the son of Zeus, and Castor and Pollux, the twin brethren, and\nCalais and Zethus, that were sons to the North Wind, and Orpheus, that\nwas the sweetest singer of all the dwellers upon earth. And they built\nfor themselves a ship, and called its name the Argo, and so set sail,\nthat they might bring back the fleece of gold to the land of Greece, to\nwhich, indeed, it rightfully belonged. Now when Jason and his fellows\nwere come to Colchis, they asked the fleece of the king of the country.\nAnd he said that he would give it to them; only Jason must first yoke\ncertain bulls that breathed fire from their nostrils, and slay a great\ndragon. But the Princess Medea saw Jason, and loved him, and purposed in\nher heart that she would help him. And being a great witch, and knowing\nall manner of drugs and enchantments, she gave him an ointment which\nkept all that anointed themselves with it so that they took no harm in\nbattle with man or beast. But first Jason had promised, swearing to her\na great oath, that she should be his wife, and that he would take her\nwith him to the land of Greece, and that he would be faithful unto her\nto his life's end. So when he and his companions had yoked the bulls,\nand slain the dragon, and carried away the fleece, they took Medea with\nthem in the ship, and so departed. But when Jason was come to the land\nof Iolcos, Pelias was not willing to keep his promise that he would give\nthe kingdom to him. Whereupon Medea devised this thing against him. She\ntook a ram, and cut him in pieces, and boiled his flesh in water,\nputting herbs into the cauldron, and saying divers enchantments over it;\nand, lo! the beast came forth young, though it had been very old. Then\nshe said to the daughters of Pelias, \"Ye see this ram, how he was old,\nand I have made him young by boiling him in water. Do ye so likewise to\nyour father, and I will help you with drugs and enchantments, as I did\nwith the ram.\" But she lied unto them, and helped them not. So King\nPelias died, being slain by his daughters, when they thought to make him\nyoung. But the people of the land were very wroth with Medea and with\nJason her husband, and suffered them not to dwell there any more. So\nthey came and dwelt in the land of Corinth. Now when they had abode\nthere many days, the heart of Jason was turned away from his wife, and\nhe was minded to put her away from him, and to take to himself another\nwife, even Glauce, who was daughter to Creon, the King of the city.\n\n[Illustration: PELAS SENDING FORTH JASON.]\n\nNow, when this thing was told to Medea, at first she went through the\nhouse raging like a lioness that is bereaved of her whelps, and crying\nout to the Gods that they should smite the false husband that had sworn\nto her and had broken his oath, and affirming that she herself would\ntake vengeance on him. And they that had the charge of her children kept\nthem from her, lest she should do some mischief. But when her first fury\nwas spent, she came forth from her house, and spake to certain women of\nCorinth of her acquaintance, that were gathered together to comfort her,\nand said, \"I am come, my friends, to excuse myself to you. Ye know this\nsudden trouble that hath undone me, and the exceeding great wickedness\nof my husband. Surely we women are of all creatures that breathe the\nmost miserable. For we must take husbands to rule over us, and how shall\nwe know whether they be good or bad? Of a truth, a woman should have\nthe gift of divination, that she may know what manner of man he is to\nwhom she joineth herself, seeing that he is a stranger to her and\nunknown. If indeed she find one that is worthy, it is well with her; but\nif not, then had she better die. For a man, if he be troubled at home,\ngoeth abroad, and holdeth converse with his friends and equals of age,\nand is comforted. But with a woman it is not so; for she hath only the\nlife that is at home. But why do I compare myself with you? for ye dwell\nin your own land, and have parents and kinsfolk and friends; but I am\ndesolate and without a country, and am wronged by this man that hath\nstolen me from a strange land; nor have I mother, or brother, or\nkinsman, who may help me in my need. This thing, therefore, I would ask\nof you; that if I can contrive any device by which I may have vengeance\non my husband, and on him that giveth his daughter to him, and on the\ngirl, ye keep silence. And vengeance I will have; for though a woman\nhave not courage, nor dare to look upon the sword, yet if she be wronged\nin her love, there is nothing fiercer than she.\"\n\nThen the women said, \"We will keep silence as thou biddest us, for 'tis\nright that thou shouldest have vengeance on thy husband. But see! here\ncometh King Creon, doubtless with some new purpose.\"\n\nAnd the King said, \"Hear this, Medea. I bid thee depart out of this\nland, and thy children with thee. And I am come myself to execute this\nword, for I depart not again to my own house till I have cast thee forth\nfrom my borders.\"\n\nThen Medea made answer, \"Now am I altogether undone. But tell me, my\nlord, why dost thou drive me out of thy land?\"\n\n\"Because I fear thee, lest thou should do some harm beyond all remedy to\nme and to my house. For I know that thou art wise, and hast knowledge of\nmany curious arts; and besides, I hear that thou hast threatened\ngrievous hurt against all that are concerned with this new marriage.\"\n\nBut Medea answered, \"O my lord, this report of craft and wisdom hath\nwrought me harm not this day only, but many times! Truly it is not well\nthat a man should teach his children to be wise, for they gain thereby\nno profit, but hatred only. But as for me, my lord, my wisdom is but a\nsmall thing; nor is there cause why thou shouldest fear me. For who am I\nthat I should transgress against a king? Nor indeed hast thou done me\nwrong. My husband, indeed, I hate; but thou hast given thy daughter as\nit pleased thee. The Gods grant that it may be well with thee and thine!\nOnly suffer me to dwell in this land.\"\n\nBut the King would not, though she entreated him with many words. Only\nat the last he yielded this to her, that she might abide for one day and\ncontrive some refuge for her children; \"but,\" he said, \"if thou tarry\nafter this, thou and thy children, thou shalt surely die.\"\n\nThen he went his way, and Medea said to the women that stood by, \"That\nat least is well; be ye sure that there is evil to come for the\nbridegroom and the bride in this new marriage, and for their kin. Think\nye that I had flattered this man but that I thought to gain somewhat\nthereby? Surety I had not touched his hand, no, nor spoken to him. And\nnow--fool that he is--he hath given me this day, and when he might have\ndriven me from the land, he suffereth me to tarry. Verily he shall die\nfor it, he and his daughter and this new bridegroom. But how shall I\ncontrive it? Shall I put fire to the dwelling of the bride, or make my\nway by stealth into her chamber and slay her? Yet if I be found so\ndoing, I shall perish, and my enemies will laugh me to scorn. Nay, let\nme work by poison, as is my wont. Well, and if they die, what then? What\ncity will receive me? what friend shall give me protection? I know not.\nI will tarry awhile, and if some help appear, I will work my end with\nguile; but if not, I will take my sword and slay them that I hate,\nthough I die. For by Hecate, whom I reverence most of all the Gods, no\nman shall vex my heart and prosper. Therefore, Medea, fear not; use all\nthy counsel and craft. Shall the race of Sisyphus, shall Jason, laugh\nthee to scorn that art of the race of the Sun?\"\n\nWhen she had ended these words, there came Jason telling her that she\ndid not well to be thus angry, and that she had brought upon herself\nthis trouble of banishment by idle words against the rulers of the land;\nbut that nevertheless he would have a care for her, and see that she\nwanted nothing needful. But when Medea heard him so speak, she burst out\nupon him in great fury, calling to mind how she had saved him once again\nfrom the bulls that breathed fire from their nostrils and from the great\ndragon that guarded the fleece of gold, and how she had done the old man\nPelias to death for his sake; \"and now,\" she said, \"whither shall I go?\nwho will receive me? for I have made enemies of my kinsfolk on account\nof thee, and now thou forsakest me. O Zeus! why can we discern false\nmoney from the true, but as for men, when we would know which is the\ngood and which the bad, there is no mark by which we may know them?\"\n\nBut to this Jason answered that if she had saved him in time past, she\nhad done it of necessity, being compelled by love; and that he had made\nher a full recompense, taking her from a barbarous land to the land of\nGreece, where men lived by law and not by the will of the stronger and\ncausing her to be highly reputed of for wisdom among the people of the\nland. \"And as to this marriage,\" he said, \"for which thou blamest me, I\nhave made it in prudence and in care for thee and for thy children. For\nbeing an exile in this city, what could I do better than marry the\ndaughter of the King? Nor is my heart turned from thee or from thy\nchildren. Only I have made provision against poverty, and that I might\nrear my sons in such fashion as befitted their birth. And now if thou\nneedest aught in thy banishment, speak; for I would give thee provision\nwithout grudging, and also commend thee to such friends as I have.\"\n\n\"Keep thy gifts and thy friends,\" she said, \"to thyself. There is no\nprofit in that which cometh from such hands as thine.\"\n\nSo Jason went his way; and when he was departed there came AEgeus, King\nof Athens, who had been on a journey to inquire of the god at Delphi,\nfor he was childless, and would fain have a son born to him. But he\nunderstood not what the god had answered, and was now on his way to King\nPittheus of Troezen, a man learned in such matters, that he might\ninterpret the thing to him. And when he saw that Medea had been weeping,\nhe would know what ailed her. Then she told him how her husband was\nfalse to her, marrying a new wife, even the daughter of the king of the\nland, and how she was on the point to be banished, and her children with\nher. And when she saw that these things displeased King AEgeus, she\nsaid--\n\n\"Now, my lord, I beseech thee to have pity on me, nor suffer me to\nwander homeless and friendless, but receive me into thy house. So may\nthe Gods grant thee thy desire that thou mayest have a son to reign\nafter thee. And indeed I have such knowledge in these matters that I can\nhelp thee myself.\"\n\nThen said King AEgeus, \"I am willing to do thee this service both for\nright's sake and because of the hope of children which thou promisest to\nme. Only I may not take thee with me from this land. But if thou comest\nto me thou shalt be safe, nor will I give thee up to any man.\"\n\nThen said Medea, \"It is well, and I trust thee. And yet, for I am weak\nand my enemies are strong, I would fain bind thee by an oath.\"\n\nTo this the King answered, \"Lady, thou art prudent, and I refuse not the\noath; for being so bound, I shall have wherewith to answer thine\nenemies, if they seek thee from me. By what Gods shall I swear?\"\n\n\"Swear by the Earth and by the Sun, who was the father of my father, and\nby all the Gods, that thou wilt not banish me from thy land, nor give me\nup to my enemies seeking me.\"\n\nAnd King AEgeus sware a great oath, by the Earth and by the Sun, and by\nall the Gods, that he would not banish her, nor give her up; and so\ndeparted.\n\nThen said Medea, \"Now shall my counsels prosper; for this man hath given\nme that which I needed, even a refuge in the city of Athens. Now,\ntherefore, hear what I will do. I will send one of my servants to Jason,\nand bid him come to me, and will speak softly to him, confessing that he\nhath done wisely in making this marriage with the daughter of King\nCreon. And I will ask of him that my children may remain in the land.\nAnd I will send them with a gift to this King's daughter, even a robe\nand a crown. But when she shall deck herself with them, she shall\nperish, so deadly are the poisons with which I shall anoint them. But\nvery grievous is the deed that I must do when this shall have been\naccomplished. For after this I must slay my children. Nor shall any man\ndeliver them out of my hand. Thus will I destroy the whole house of\nJason, and so depart from the land. A very evil deed it is; but I cannot\nendure to be laughed to scorn by my enemies. And yet what profiteth me\nto live? For I have no country or home or refuge from trouble. I did\nevil leaving my father's house to follow this Greek. But verily he shall\npay me to the very uttermost. For his children he shall see no more, and\nhis bride shall perish miserably. Wherefore let no man henceforth think\nme to be weak or feeble.\"\n\nAnd when the women would have turned her from her purpose, saying that\nso doing she would be the most miserable of women, she would not\nhearken, thinking only how she might best wound the heart of her\nhusband.\n\nMeanwhile a servant had carried the message to Jason. And when he was\ncome, she said that she had repented of her anger against him, and that\nnow he seemed to her to have done wisely, strengthening himself and his\nhouse by this marriage; and she prayed him that he would pardon her,\nbeing a woman and weak. And then she called to her children that they\nshould come forth from the house, and take their father by his hand, for\nthat her anger had ceased, and there was peace between them.\n\nAnd Jason praised her that she had so changed her thoughts; and to his\nchildren he said, \"Be sure, my sons, that your father hath counselled\nwisely for you. Live, you shall yet be the first in this land of\nCorinth.\"\n\nAnd as he spake these words, he perceived that Medea wept, and said,\n\"Why weepest thou?\"\n\nAnd she answered, \"Women are always ready with tears for their children.\nI bare them; and when thou saidst to them 'Live,' I doubted whether this\nmight be. But listen. Doubtless it is well that I depart from this land,\nboth for me and for you. But as for these children, wilt thou not\npersuade the King that he suffer them to dwell here?\"\n\n\"I know not whether I shall persuade him; but I will endeavour.\"\n\n\"Ask thy wife to intercede for these children, that they be not banished\nfrom this land.\"\n\n\"Even so. With her doubtless I shall prevail, if she be like to other\nwomen.\"\n\n\"I will help thee in this, sending her gifts so fair that there could be\nfound nothing more beautiful on the earth--a robe exceeding fine and a\ncrown of gold. These shall my children bear to her. So shall she be the\nhappiest of women, having such a husband as thou art, and this adornment\nwhich the Sun, my grandsire, gave to his descendants after him that they\nshould possess it.\"\n\nThen she turned herself to her children, and said, \"Take these caskets\nin your hands, my sons, and take them to the new bride, the King's\ndaughter.\"\n\n\"But why wilt thou empty thy hands? Are there not, thinkest thou, robes\nenough and gold enough in the treasure of the King? Keep them for\nthyself. She will make more account of me than of thy gifts.\"\n\n\"Nay, not so. Is it not said that even the Gods are persuaded by gifts,\nand that gold is mightier than ten thousand speeches? Go, then, my\nchildren, to the King's palace. Seek your father's new wife, and fall\ndown before her, and beseech her, giving her these adornments, that ye\nbe not banished from the land.\"\n\nSo the two boys went to the palace bearing the gifts. And all the\nservants of Jason that were therein rejoiced to see them, thinking that\nMedea had put away her anger against her husband. And they kissed their\nhands and their heads; and one led them into the chambers of the women,\nto the King's daughter. And she, who before sat looking with much love\nupon Jason, when she saw the boys, turned her head from them in anger.\n\nBut Jason soothed her, saying, \"Be not angry with thy friends, but love\nthem whom thy husband loveth, and take the gifts which they bring, and\npersuade thy father for my sake that he banish them not.\"\n\nAnd when she saw the gifts, she changed her thoughts, and consented to\nhis words. And in a very brief space she took the robe and clothed\nherself with it, and put the crown upon her head, and ordered her hair,\nlooking in the glass and smiling at the image of herself. And then she\nrose from her seat, and walked through the house, stepping daintily, and\noften regarding herself.\n\nBut then befell a dreadful thing; for she grew pale, and trembled, and\nhad well-nigh fallen upon the ground, scarce struggling to her chair.\n\nAnd an old woman that was of her attendants set up a great cry, thinking\nthat Pan or some other god had smitten her. But when she saw that she\nfoamed at her mouth, and that her eyes rolled, and that there was no\nblood left in her, she ran to tell Jason of the matter, and another\nhastened to the King's chamber.\n\nAnd then there came upon the maiden a greater woe than at the first, for\nthere came forth a marvellous stream of fire from the crown of gold that\nwas about her head, and all the while the robe devoured her flesh. Then\nshe rose from her seat, and ran through the house, tossing her hair, and\nseeking to cast away the crown. But this she could not, for it clung to\nher very closely. And at the last she fell dead upon the ground, sorely\ndisfigured so that none but her father only had known her. And all\nfeared to touch her, lest they should be devoured also of the fire.\n\nBut when the King was come, he cast himself upon the dead body, saying,\n\"O my child! what God hath so smitten thee? Why hast thou left me in my\nold age?\"\n\nAnd when he would have lifted himself, the robe held him fast, and he\ncould not, though he struggled sorely. So he also died; and the two,\nfather and daughter, lay together dead upon the ground.\n\nNow in the meanwhile the old man that had the charge of the boys led\nthem back to the house of the mother, and bade her rejoice, for that\nthey were released from the sentence of banishment, and that some day\nshe should also return by their means.\n\nBut the woman wept and answered doubtfully. Then she bade him go into\nthe house and prepare for the lads what they might need for the day. And\nwhen he was departed she said, \"O my sons, I go to a strange land and\nshall not see you come to fair estate and fortune; nor shall I make\npreparations for your marriage when you have grown to manhood. Vainly\ndid I bear you with pangs of travail; vainly did I rear you; vainly did\nI hope that ye should cherish me in my old age, and lay me out for my\nburial. O my children, why do ye so regard me? Why do ye laugh at me\nthat shall never laugh again? Nay, I cannot do the deed. When I see the\neyes of my children how bright they are, I cannot do it. And yet shall\nmy enemies triumph over me and laugh me to scorn? Not so; I will dare it\nall.\" And she bade her children go into the house. But after a space she\nspake again, \"O my heart, do not this deed. Spare my children! They will\ngladden thee in the land of thy banishment.\" And then again, after a\nspace, \"But no, it is otherwise ordained, and there is no escape. And I\nknow that by this time the King's daughter hath the robe upon her and\nthe crown about her head, and what I do I must do quickly.\"\n\nThen she called to the boys again and said, \"O my children! give me your\nright hands. O hands and mouths that I love, and faces fair exceedingly.\nBe ye happy--but not here. All that is here your father hath taken from\nyou. O dear regard, O soft, soft flesh, O sweet, sweet breath of my\nchildren! Go, my children, go; I cannot look upon your faces any more.\"\n\nAnd now there came a messenger from the King's palace and told her all\nthat had there befallen. But when she heard it she knew that the time\nwas come, and went into the house.\n\nAnd the women that stood without heard a terrible cry from the children\nas they sought to flee from their mother and could not. And while they\ndoubted whether they should not hasten within and, it might be, deliver\nthem from their mother, came Jason to the gate and said to them, \"Tell\nme, ladies, is Medea in this place, or hath she fled? Verily she must\nhide herself in the earth, or mount into the air, if she would not\nsuffer due punishment for that which she hath done to the King and to\nhis daughter. But of her I think not so much as of her children. For I\nwould save them, lest the kinsmen of the dead do them some harm, seeking\nvengeance for the bloody deed of their mother.\"\n\nThen the women answered, \"O Jason, thou knowest not the truth, or thou\nwouldst not speak such words.\"\n\n\"How so? Would she kill me also?\"\n\n\"Thy children are dead, slain by the hand of their mother.\"\n\n\"Dead are they? When did she slay them?\"\n\n\"If thou wilt open the gates thou wilt see the dead corpses of thy\nchildren.\"\n\nBut when he battered at the gates, and cried out that they should open\nto him, he heard a voice from above, and saw Medea borne in a chariot,\nwith winged dragons for horses, who cried to him, \"Why seekest thou the\ndead and me that slew them? Trouble not thyself. If thou wantest aught\nof me, say on, but thou shalt never touch me with thy hand. For this\nchariot, which my father the Sun hath given me, shalt deliver me out of\nthy hands.\"\n\nThen Jason cried, \"Thou art an accursed woman, that hast slain thy own\nchildren with the sword, and yet darest to look upon the earth and the\nsun. What madness was it that I brought thee from thy own country to\nthis land of Greece, for thou didst betray thy father and slay thy\nbrother with the sword, and now thou hast killed thine own children, to\navenge what thou deemest thine own wrong. No woman art thou, but a\nlioness or monster of the sea.\"\n\nAnd to these things she answered, \"Call me what thou wilt, lioness or\nmonster of the sea; but this I know, that I have pierced thy heart. And\nas for thy children, thou shalt not touch them or see them any more; for\nI will bear them to the grove of Here and bury them there, lest some\nenemy should break up their tomb and do them some dishonour. And I\nmyself go to the land of Attica, where I shall dwell with King AEgeus,\nthe son of Pandion. And as for thee, thou shalt perish miserably, for a\nbeam from the ship Argo shall smite thee on the head. So shalt thou\ndie.\"\n\nThus was the vengeance of Medea accomplished.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE DEATH OF HERCULES.\n\n\nOeneus, who was king of the city of Pleuron in the land of AEtolia, had\na fair daughter, Deianeira by name. Now the maiden was sought in\nmarriage by the god of the river Acheloues; but she loved him not, for he\nwas strange and terrible to look at. Sometimes he had the shape of a\ngreat dragon with scales, and sometimes he had the shape of a man, only\nthat his head was the head of a bull, and streams of water flowed down\nfrom his beard. But it came to pass that Hercules, who was stronger than\nall the men that dwelt upon the earth, coming to the city of Pleuron,\nsaw the maiden and loved her, and would have her to wife. And when she\ntold him, saying that the river-god Acheloues sought her in marriage, he\nbade her be of good courage, for that he would vanquish the creature in\nbattle, so that it should not trouble her any more. Which thing he did,\nfor when the river-god came, after his custom, Hercules did battle with\nhim, and came nigh to strangling him, and brake off one of his horns.\nAnd the maiden looked on while the two fought together, and was well\npleased that Hercules prevailed. King Oeneus also was glad, and\nwillingly gave her to him to wife. So after a while he departed with her\nunto his own country. And as they journeyed they came to the river\nEvenus. Now on the banks of this river there dwelt one Nessus, a\ncentaur. (These centaurs had heads as the heads of men, but their bodies\nwere like horses' bodies; and they were a savage race and a lawless.)\nThis Nessus was wont to carry travellers across the river, which indeed\nwas very broad and deep. And when he saw Deianeira that she was very\nfair, he would have taken her from her husband; but Hercules drew his\nbow and smote him with an arrow.\n\nNow when Nessus knew that he should die of his wound--for neither man\nnor beast lived that was wounded of these arrows--he thought in his\nwicked heart that he would be avenged on this man that had slain him.\nWhereupon he said to the woman, \"Behold I die. But first I would give\nthee a gift. Take of the blood that cometh from this wound, and it shall\ncome to pass that if the love of thy husband fail thee, thou shalt take\nof this blood and smear it on a garment, and give him the garment to\nwear, and he shall love thee again as at the first.\"\n\nSo the woman took of the blood and kept it by her. And it came to pass\nafter a time that the two went to the city of Trachis and dwelt there.\nNow Trachis is in the land of Thessaly, near unto the springs of Oeta.\nAnd Hercules loved his wife, and she dwelt in peace and happiness, only\nthat he sojourned not long at home, but wandered over the face of the\nearth, doing many wonderful works at the commandment of Eurystheus, his\nbrother. For the Gods had made Eurystheus to be master over him, for all\nthat he was so strong. Now for the most part this troubled not his wife\novermuch; for he departed from his house as one who counted it certain\nthat he should return thereto. But at the last this was not so. For he\nleft a tablet wherein were written many things such as a man writeth who\nis about to die. For he had ordered therein the portion which his wife\nshould have as her right of marriage, and how his possessions should be\ndivided among his children. Also he wrote therein a certain space of\ntime, even a year and three months, for when that was come to an end, he\nsaid, he must either be dead or have finished happily all his labours,\nand so be at peace continually. And this he had heard as an oracle from\nthe doves that dwell in the oaks of Dodona. And when this time was\nwell-nigh come to an end, Deianeira, being in great fear, told the\nmatter to Hyllus, her son. And even as she had ended, there came a\nmessenger, saying, \"Hail, lady! Put thy trouble from thee. The son of\nAlcmena lives and is well. This I heard from Lichas the herald; and\nhearing it I hastened to thee without delay, hoping that so I might\nplease thee.\"\n\n\"But,\" said the Queen, \"why cometh not the herald himself?\"\n\n\"Because all the people stand about him, asking him questions, and\nhinder him.\"\n\nAnd not a long while after the herald came; and the name of the man was\nLichas. And when the Queen saw him she cried, \"What news hast thou of my\nhusband? Is he yet alive?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said the herald, \"he is alive and in good health.\"\n\n\"And where didst thou leave him? In some country of the Greeks, or among\nbarbarians?\"\n\n\"I left him in the land of Euboea, where he ordereth a sacrifice to\nZeus.\"\n\n\"Payeth he thus some vow, or did some oracle command it?\"\n\n\"He payeth a vow. And this vow he made before he took with his spear the\ncity of these women whom thou seest.\"\n\n\"And who are these? For they are very piteous to behold.\"\n\n\"These he led captive when he destroyed the city of King Eurytus.\"\n\n\"And hath the taking of the city so long delayed him? For I have not\nseen him for the space of a year and three months.\"\n\n\"Not so. The most of this time he was a slave in the land of Lydia. For\nhe was sold to Omphale, who is Queen of that land, and served her. And\nhow this came about I will tell thee. Thy husband sojourned in the house\nof King Eurytus, who had been long time his friend. But the King dealt\nill with him, and spake to him unfriendly. For first he said that\nHercules could not excel his sons in shooting with the bow, for all that\nhe had arrows that missed not their aim. And next he reviled him, for\nthat he was but a slave who served a free man, even King Eurystheus, his\nbrother. And at the last, at a banquet, when Hercules was overcome with\nwine, the King cast him forth. Wherefore Hercules, being very wroth,\nslew the man. For the King came to the land of Tiryns, looking for\ncertain horses, and Hercules caught him unawares, having his thoughts\none way and his eyes another, and cast him down from the cliff that he\ndied. Then Zeus was very wroth because he had slain him by craft, as he\nhad never slain any man before, and caused that he should be sold for a\nyear as a bond-slave to Queen Omphale. And when the year was ended, and\nHercules was free, he vowed a vow that he would destroy this city from\nwhich there had come to him this disgrace; which vow he accomplished.\nAnd these women whom thou seest are the captives of his spear. And as\nfor himself, be sure that thou wilt see him in no long space.\"\n\nWhen Lichas had thus spoken, the Queen looked upon the captives, and had\ncompassion on them, praying to the Gods that such an evil thing might\nnot befall her children, or if, haply, it should befall them, she might\nbe dead before. And seeing that there was one among them who surpassed\nthe others in beauty, being tall and fair exceedingly, as if she were\nthe daughter of a king, she would fain know who she was; and when the\nwoman answered not a word, she would have the herald tell her. But he\nmade as if he knew nothing at all; only that she seemed to be well born,\nand that from the first she had spoken nothing, but wept continually.\nAnd the Queen pitied her, and said that they should not trouble her, but\ntake her into the palace and deal kindly with her, lest she should have\nsorrow upon sorrow.\n\nBut Lichas having departed for a space, the messenger that came at the\nfirst would have speech of the Queen alone. And when she had dismissed\nall the people, he told her that Lichas had not spoken truly, saying\nthat he knew not who was this stranger, for that she was the daughter of\nKing Eurytus, Iole by name, and that indeed for love of her Hercules had\ntaken the city.\n\nAnd when the Queen heard this she was sore troubled, fearing lest the\nheart of her husband should now have been turned from her. But first she\nwould know the certainty of the matter. So when Lichas came, being now\nabout to depart, and inquired what he should say, as from the Queen to\nHercules, she said to him, \"Lichas, art thou one that loveth the truth?\"\n\n\"Yea, by Zeus!\" said he, \"if so be that I know it.\"\n\n\"Tell me, then, who is this woman whom thou hast brought?\"\n\n\"A woman of Euboea; but of what lineage I know not.\"\n\n\"Look thou here. Knowest thou who it is to whom thou speakest?\"\n\n\"Yea, I know it; to Queen Deianeira, daughter of Oeneus and wife to\nHercules, and my mistress.\"\n\n\"Thou sayest that I am thy mistress. What should be done to thee if thou\nbe found doing wrong to me?\"\n\n\"What wrong? What meanest thou? But this is idle talk, and I had best\ndepart.\"\n\n\"Thou departest not till I shall have inquired somewhat further of\nthee.\"\n\nSo the Queen commanded that they should bring the messenger who had set\nforth the whole matter to her. And when the man was come, and had told\nwhat he knew, and the Queen also spake fair, as bearing no wrath against\nher husband, Lichas made confession that the thing was indeed as the man\nhad said, and that the woman was Iole, daughter of King Eurytus.\n\nThen the Queen took counsel with her companions, maidens that dwelt in\nthe city of Trachis, and told them how she had a charm with her, the\nblood of Nessus the Centaur; and that Nessus had given it to her in old\ntime because she was the last whom he carried over the river Evenus; and\nthat it would win back for her the love of her husband. So she called\nLichas, the herald, and said to him that he must do a certain thing for\nher. And he answered, \"What is it, lady? Already I have lingered too\nlong.\"\n\nAnd she said, \"Take now this robe, which thou seest to be fair and well\nwoven, and carry it as a gift from me to my husband. And say to him from\nme that he suffer no man to wear it before him, and that the light of\nthe sun touch it not, no, nor the light of a fire, till he himself shall\nclothe himself with it on a day on which he doeth sacrifice to the Gods.\nAnd say that I made this vow, if he should come back from this journey,\nthat I would array him in this robe, wherein to do sacrifice. And that\nhe may know thee to be a true messenger from me, take with thee this\nseal.\"\n\nAnd Lichas said, \"So surely as I know the craft of Hermes, who is the\ngod of heralds, I will do this thing according to thy bidding.\"\n\nNow the Queen had anointed the fair garment which she sent with the\nblood of Nessus the Centaur, that when her husband should clothe himself\nwith it, his heart might be turned to her as at the first.\n\nSo Lichas the herald departed, bearing the robe. But after no long time\nthe Queen ran forth from the palace in great fear, wringing her hands,\nand crying to the maidens, her companions, that she was sore afraid lest\nin ignorance she had done some great mischief. And when they would know\nthe cause of her grief and fear, she spake, saying, \"A very marvellous\nand terrible thing hath befallen me. There was a morsel of sheep's wool\nwhich I dipped into the charm, even the blood of the Centaur, that I\nmight anoint therewith the robe which ye saw me send to my husband. Now,\nthis morsel of wool hath perished altogether. But that ye may understand\nthis thing the better, I will set it forth to you at length. Know then\nthat I have not forgotten aught of the things which the Centaur\ncommanded me when he gave me this charm, but have kept them in my heart,\neven as if they were written on bronze. Now he bade me keep the thing\nwhere neither light of the sun nor fire might touch it. And this have I\ndone; and when I anointed the robe, I anointed it in secret, in a\ncertain dark place in the palace; but the morsel of wool wherewith I\nanointed it I threw, not heeding, into the sunshine. And, lo! it hath\nwasted till it is like unto dust which falleth when a man saweth wood.\nAnd from the earth whereon it lay there arise great bubbles of foam,\nlike to the bubbles which arise when men pour into the vats the juice of\nthe vine. And now I know not what I should say; for indeed, though I\nthought not so of the matter before, it seemeth not a thing to be\nbelieved that this Centaur should wish well to the man that slew him.\nHaply he deceived me, that he might work him woe. For I know that this\nis a very deadly poison, seeing that Chiron also suffered grievously by\nreason of it, albeit he was a god. Now if this be so, as I fear, then\nhave I, and I only, slain my husband.\"\n\nAnd she had scarce finished these words when Hyllus her son came in\ngreat haste; and when he saw her, he cried, \"O my mother! would that I\nhad found thee dead, or that thou wert not my mother, or that thou wert\nof a better mind than I know thee to be of.\"\n\nBut she said, \"What have I done, my son, that thou so abhorrest me?\"\n\n\"This day thou hast done my father to death.\"\n\n\"What sayest thou? Who told thee this horrible thing that thou bringest\nagainst me?\"\n\n\"I saw it with mine own eyes. And if thou wilt hear the whole matter,\nhearken. My father, having taken with his spear the city of Eurytus,\nwent to a certain place hard by the sea, that he might offer sacrifices\nto Zeus, according to his vow. And even as he was about to begin, there\ncame Lichas the herald bringing thy gift, the deadly robe. And he put it\nupon him as thou badest, and slew the beasts for the sacrifice, even\ntwelve oxen chosen out of the prey, and one hundred other beasts. And\nfor a while he did worship to the Gods with a glad heart, rejoicing in\nthe beauty of his apparel. But when the fire grew hot, and the sweat\ncame out upon his skin, the robe clung about him as though one had\nfitted it to him by art, and there went a great pang of pain through\nhim, even as the sting of a serpent. And then he called to Lichas the\nherald, and would fain know for what end he had brought this accursed\nraiment. And when the wretch said that it was thy gift, he caught him by\nthe foot, and cast him on a rock that was in the sea hard by, and all\nhis brains were scattered upon it. And all the people groaned to see\nthis thing, that the man perished so miserably, and that such madness\nwrought in thy husband. Nor did any one dare to draw near to him, for he\nthrew himself now into the air, and now upon the ground, so fierce was\nthe pain; and all the rocks about sounded again with his groaning. But\nafter a while he spied me where I stood waiting in the crowd, and called\nto me, and said, 'Come hither, my son; fly not from me in my trouble,\neven if it needs be that thou die with me. But take me, and set me where\nno man may see me; but above all carry me from this land, that I die not\nhere.' Whereupon we laid him in the hold of a ship, and brought him to\nthis place, where thou wilt see him soon, either newly dead or on the\npoint to die. This is what thou hast done, my mother; for thou hast\nslain thy husband, such a man as thou shalt never more see upon this\nearth.\"\n\nAnd when the Queen heard this, she spake not a word, but hasted into the\npalace, and ran through it like unto one that is smitten with madness.\nAnd at the last she entered the chamber of Hercules, and sat down in\nthe midst and wept piteously, saying, \"O my marriage-bed, where never\nmore I shall lie, farewell!\" And as she spake she loosed the golden\nbrooch that was upon her heart, and bared all her left side; and before\nany could hinder her--for her nurse had seen what she did, and had run\nto fetch her son--she took a two-edged sword and smote herself to the\nheart, and so fell dead. And as she fell there came her son, that now\nknew from them of the household how she had been deceived of that evil\nbeast the Centaur, and fell upon her with many tears and cries, saying\nthat now he was bereaved both of father and of mother in one day.\n\nBut while he lamented, there came men bearing Hercules in a litter. He\nwas asleep, for the pain had left him for a space, and the old man that\nwas guide to the company was earnest with Hyllus that he should not wake\nhis father. Nevertheless, Hercules heard the young man's voice, and his\nsleep left him. Then he cried aloud in his agony, complaining to Zeus\nthat he had suffered such a torment to come upon him, and reproaching\nthem that stood by that they gave him not a sword wherewith he might\nmake an end to his pain. But most of all he cursed his wife that she had\nwrought him such woe, saying to Hyllus--\n\n\"See now, my son, how that this treacherous woman hath worked such pain\nto me as I have never endured before in all the earth, through which, as\nthou knowest, I have journeyed, cleansing it from all manner of\nmonsters. And now thou seest how I, who have subdued all things, weep\nand cry as doth a girl. And these hands and arms, with which I slew the\nlion that wasted the land of Nemea and the great dragon of Lerna, and\ndragged into the light the three-headed dog that guardeth the gate of\nhell, see how these, which no man yet hath vanquished in fight, are\nwasted and consumed with the fire. But there is one thing which they\nshall yet do, for I will slay her that wrought this deed.\"\n\nThen Hyllus made answer, \"My father, suffer me to speak, for I have that\nto tell thee of my mother which thou shouldest hear.\"\n\n\"Speak on; but beware that thou show not thyself vile, excusing her.\"\n\n[Illustration: HERCULES ON MOUNT OETA.]\n\n\"She is dead.\"\n\n\"Who slew her? This is a strange thing thou tellest.\"\n\n\"She slew herself with her own hand.\"\n\n\"'Tis ill done. Would that I had slain her myself!\"\n\n\"Thy heart will be changed towards her when thou hearest all.\"\n\n\"This is strange indeed; but say on.\"\n\n\"All that she did she did with good intent.\"\n\n\"With good intent, thou wicked boy, when she slew her husband?\"\n\n\"She sought to keep thy love, fearing that thy heart was turned to\nanother.\"\n\n\"And who of the men of Trachis is so cunning in leechcraft?\"\n\n\"The Centaur Nessus gave her the poison long since, saying that she\nmight thus win back thy love.\"\n\nAnd when Hercules heard this he cried aloud, \"Then is my doom come; for\nlong since it was prophesied to me that I should not die by the hand of\nany living creature, but by one that dwelt in the region of the dead.\nAnd now this Centaur, whom I slew long ago, hath slain me in turn. And\nnow, my son, hearken unto me. Thou knowest the hill of Oeta. Carry me\nthither thyself, taking also such of thy friends as thou wilt have with\nthee. And build there a great pile of oak and wild olive, and lay me\nthereon, and set fire thereto. And take heed that thou shed no tear nor\nutter a cry, but work this deed in silence, if, indeed, thou art my true\nson: and if thou doest not so, my curse shall be upon thee for ever.\"\n\nAnd Hyllus vowed that he would do this thing, only that he could not set\nfire to the pile with his own hand. So they bare Hercules to the top of\nthe hill of Oeta, and built a great pile of wood, and laid him\nthereon. And Philoctetes, who was of the companions of Hyllus, set fire\nto the pile. For which deed Hercules gave to him his bow and the arrows\nthat missed not their aim. And the tale of this bow, and how it fared\nwith him that had it, may be read in the story of Philoctetes.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE SEVEN CHIEFS AGAINST THEBES.\n\n\nIt befell in times past that the Gods, being angry with the inhabitants\nof Thebes, sent into their land a very noisome beast which men called\nthe Sphinx. Now this beast had the face and breast of a very fair woman,\nbut the feet and claws of a lion; and it was wont to ask a riddle of\nsuch as encountered it; and such as answered not aright it would tear\nand devour. Now when it had laid waste the land many days, there chanced\nto come to Thebes one Oedipus, who had fled from the city of Corinth\nthat he might escape the doom which the Gods had spoken against him. And\nthe men of the place told him of the Sphinx, how she cruelly devoured\nthe people, and that he who should deliver them from her should have the\nkingdom. So Oedipus, being very bold, and also ready of wit, went\nforth to meet the monster. And when she saw him she spake, saying--\n\n  \"Read me this riddle right, or die:\n  What liveth there beneath the sky,\n  Four-footed creature that doth choose\n  Now three feet and now twain to use,\n  And still more feebly o'er the plain\n  Walketh with three feet than with twain?\"\n\nAnd Oedipus made reply--\n\n  \"'Tis man, who in life's early day\n  Four-footed crawleth on his way;\n  When time hath made his strength complete,\n  Upright his form and twain his feet;\n  When age hath bowed him to the ground\n  A third foot in his staff is found.\"\n\nAnd when the Sphinx found that her riddle was answered, she cast herself\nfrom a high rock and perished. Now for a while Oedipus reigned in\ngreat power and glory; but afterwards his doom came upon him, so that in\nhis madness he put out his own eyes. Then his two sons cast him into\nprison, and took his kingdom, making agreement between themselves that\neach should reign for the space of one year. And the elder of the two,\nwhose name was Eteocles, first had the kingdom; but when his year was\ncome to an end, he would not abide by his promise, but kept that which\nhe should have given up, and drave out his younger brother from the\ncity. Then the younger, whose name was Polynices, fled to Argos, to King\nAdrastus. And after a while he married the daughter of the King, who\nmade a covenant with him that he would bring him back with a high hand\nto Thebes, and set him on the throne of his father. Then the King sent\nmessengers to certain of the princes of Greece, entreating that they\nwould help in this matter. And of these some would not, but others\nhearkened to his words, so that a great army was gathered together and\nfollowed the King and Polynices to make war against Thebes. So they came\nand pitched their camp over against the city. And after that they had\nfought against it many days, and yet had prevailed nothing, Adrastus\nheld a council of the chiefs, and it was agreed that next day, early in\nthe morning, they should assault the city with all their might. And when\nthe morning was come, the chiefs were gathered together, being seven in\nnumber. And first of all they slew a bull, and caught the blood of the\nbeast in the hollow of a shield, into which they dipped their hands,\nand sware a great oath that they would take the city of Thebes or die.\nAnd having sworn, they hung upon the chariot of Adrastus what should be\nmemorials of them each for his own father and mother, all weeping the\nwhile. After this they cast lots for the places which they should take,\nfor there were seven gates to the city, that each chief might assault a\ngate.\n\n[Illustration: OEDIPUS AND THE SPHINX.]\n\nBut their purpose was known to the King Eteocles, for he had heard the\nwhole matter from Tiresias, the wise seer, who told beforehand all that\nshould come to pass, discovering it from the voice of birds, for being\nblind he could not judge from their flight, or from the tokens of fire,\nas other soothsayers are wont. Wherefore the King gathered together all\nthat could bear arms, even youths not grown, and old men that were waxed\nfeeble with age, and bade them fight for the land, for \"she,\" he said,\n\"gave you birth and reared you, and now asketh that ye help her in this\nher need. And though hitherto we have fared well in this war, know ye\nfor certain, for Tiresias the soothsayer hath said it, that there\ncometh a great danger this day upon the city. Wherefore haste ye to the\nbattlements, and to the towers that are upon the walls, and take your\nstand in the gates, and be of good courage, and quit you like men.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE OATH OF THE SEVEN CHIEFS]\n\nAnd as he made an end of speaking there ran in one who declared that\neven now the enemy was about to assault the city. And after him came a\ntroop of maidens of Thebes, crying out that the enemy had come forth\nfrom the camp, and that they heard the tramp of many feet upon the\nearth, and the rattling of shields, and the noise of many spears. And\nthey lifted up their voices to the Gods that they should help the city,\nto Ares, the god of the golden helmet, that he should defend the land\nwhich in truth was his from old time, and to Father Zeus, and to Pallas,\nwho was the daughter of Zeus, and to Poseidon, the great ruler of the\nsea, and to Aphrodite the Fair, for that she was the mother of their\nrace, and to Apollo, the wolf-king, that he would be as a devouring wolf\nto the enemy, and to Artemis, that she should bend her bow against them,\nand to Here, the Queen of heaven, even to all the dwellers in Olympus,\nthat they should defend the city, and save it.\n\nBut the King was very wroth when he heard this outcry, and cried, \"Think\nye to make bold the hearts of our men by these lamentations? Now may the\nGods save me from this race of women; for if they be bold no man can\nendure their insolence, and if they be afraid they vex both their home\nand their country. Even so now do ye help them that are without and\ntrouble your own people. But hearken to this. He that heareth not my\ncommand, be he man or woman, the people shall stone him. Speak I\nplainly?\"\n\n\"But, O son of Oedipus,\" the maidens made reply, \"we hear the rolling\nof the chariot wheels, and the rattling of the axles, and the jingling\nof the bridle reins.\"\n\n\"What then?\" said the King, \"if the ship labour in the sea, and the\nhelmsman leave the helm and fly to the prow that he may pray before the\nimage, doeth he well?\"\n\n\"Nay, blame us not that we came to beseech the Gods when we heard the\nhailstorm of war rattling on the gates.\"\n\n\"'Tis well,\" cried the King, \"yet men say that the Gods leave the city\nthat is at the point to fall. And mark ye this, that safety is the child\nof obedience. But as for duty, 'tis for men to do sacrifice to the Gods,\nand for women to keep silence and to abide at home.\"\n\nBut the maidens made reply, \"'Tis the Gods who keep this city, nor do\nthey transgress who reverence them.\"\n\n\"Yes, but let them reverence them in due order. And now hearken to me.\nKeep ye silence. And when I have made my prayer, raise ye a joyful shout\nthat shall gladden the hearts of our friends and put away all fear from\nthem. And to the Gods that keep this city I vow that if they give us\nvictory in this war I will sacrifice to them sheep and oxen, and will\nhang up in their houses the spoils of the enemy. And now, ye maidens, do\nye also make your prayers, but not with vain clamour. And I will choose\nseven men, being myself the seventh, who shall meet the seven that come\nagainst the gates of our city.\"\n\nThen the King departed, and the maidens made their prayer after this\nfashion: \"My heart feareth as a dove feareth the serpent for her young\nones, so cruelly doth the enemy come about this city to destroy it!\nShall ye find elsewhere as fair a land, ye Gods, if ye suffer this to be\nlaid waste, or streams as sweet? Help us then, for indeed it is a\ngrievous thing when men take a city, for the women, old and young, are\ndragged by the hair, and the men are slain with the sword, and there is\nslaughter and burning, while they that plunder cry each man to his\ncomrade, and the fruits of the earth are wasted upon the ground; nor is\nthere any hope but in death.\"\n\nAnd as they made an end, the King came back, and at the same time a\nmessenger bringing tidings of the battle, how the seven chiefs had\nranged themselves each against a gate of the city. And the man's story\nwas this.\n\n\"First Tydeus, the AEtolian, standeth in great fury at the gate of\nProetus. Very wroth is he because the soothsayer, Amphiaraues,\nsuffereth him not to cross the Ismenus, for that the omens promise not\nvictory. A triple crest he hath, and there are bells of bronze under his\nshield which ring terribly. And on his shield he hath this device: the\nheaven studded with stars, and in the midst the mightiest of the stars,\nthe eye of night, even the moon. Whom, O King, will thou set against\nthis man?\"\n\nThen the King made reply, \"I tremble not at any man's adorning, and a\ndevice woundeth not. And, indeed, as for the night that thou tellest to\nbe on his shield, haply it signifieth the night of death that shall fall\nupon his eyes. Over against him will I set the son of Astacus, a brave\nman and a modest. Also he is of the race of the Dragon's Teeth, and men\ncall him Melanippus.\"\n\nAnd the messenger said, \"Heaven send him good fortune! At the gate of\nElectra standeth Capaneus, a man of great stature, and his boastings are\nabove all measure, for he crieth out that he will destroy this city\nwhether the Gods will or no, and that Zeus with his thunder shall not\nstay him, for that the thunder is but as the sun at noon. And on his\nshield he hath a man bearing a torch, and these words, 'I WILL BURN THIS\nCITY.' Who now shall stand against this boaster and fear not?\"\n\nThen the King said, \"His boastings I heed not. They shall turn to his\nown destruction. For as he sendeth out swelling words against Zeus, so\nshall Zeus send against him the thunder, smiting him, but not of a truth\nas the sun smiteth. Him shall Polyphantus encounter, a valiant man and\ndear to Queen Artemis.\"\n\n\"He that is set against the gate of Neis is called Eteoclus by name. He\ndriveth a chariot with four horses, in whose nostrils are pipes making a\nwhistling noise, after the fashion of barbarians. And on his shield he\nhath this device: a man mounting a ladder that is set against a tower\nupon a wall, and with it these words, 'NOT ARES' SELF SHALL DRIVE ME\nHENCE.' See that thou set a fit warrior against him.\"\n\n\"Megareus, son of Creon, of the race of the Dragon, shall fight against\nhim, who will not leave the gate for any whistling noise of horses; for\neither he will die as a brave man dieth for his country, or will take a\ndouble spoil, even this boaster and him also that he beareth upon his\nshield.\"\n\n\"At the next gate to this, even the gate of Athene, standeth Hippomedon.\nA great shield and a terrible he hath, and on it this device, which no\nmean workman hath wrought: Typhon breathing out a great blast of black\nsmoke, and all about it serpents twined together. And the man also is\nterrible as his shield, and seemeth to be inspired of Ares. Whom wilt\nthou set against this man, O King?\"\n\n\"First shall Pallas stand against him and drive him from this city, even\nas a bird driveth a snake from her young ones. And next I have set\nHyperbius, son of Oeneus, to encounter him, being inferior neither in\nform nor courage, nor yet in skill of arms, and also dear to Hermes.\nEnemies shall they be, bearing also on their shields gods that are\nenemies, for Hippomedon hath Typhon, but Hyperbius hath Zeus; and even\nas Zeus prevailed over Typhon, so also shall Hyperbius prevail over this\nman.\"\n\n\"So be it, O King. Know also that at the north gate is set Parthenopaeus\nthe Arcadian. Very young is he, and fair also to behold, and his mother\nwas the huntress Atalanta. This man sweareth by his spear, which he\nholdeth to be better than all gods whatsoever, that he will lay waste\nthis city. And on his shield he beareth a device, the Sphinx, which\nholdeth in her claws one of the sons of Cadmus.\"\n\n\"Against this Arcadian will I set Actor, brother to Hyperbius, no\nboaster but a man of deeds, who will not let this hateful monster, the\nSphinx, pass thus into the city; but will rather make it ill content to\nhave come hither, so many and fierce blows shall he deal it.\"\n\n\"Hear now of the sixth among the chiefs, the wise soothsayer,\nAmphiaraues. Ill pleased is he with these things, for against Tydeus he\nuttereth many reproaches, that he is an evil counsellor to Argos and to\nKing Adrastus, stirring up strife and slaughter. And to thy brother also\nhe speaketh in like fashion, saying, 'Is this a thing that the Gods\nlove, and that men shall praise in the days to come, that thou bringest\na host of strangers to lay waste the city of thy fathers? Shall this\nland, if thou subduest it by the spear of the enemy, ever make alliance\nwith thee? As for me I shall fall in this land, for am I not a seer? Be\nit so. I shall not die without honour!' No device hath this man on his\nshield, for he seeketh not to seem, but to be in very deed most\nexcellent. Thou must need send some wise man to stand against him.\"\n\n\"It is an ill fate that bringeth a just man into company with the\nwicked. And of a truth there is not a worse thing upon the earth than\nill companionship, wherein the sowing is madness and the harvest is\ndeath. For thus a god-fearing man being on shipboard with godless\ncompanions perisheth with them; and one that is righteous, if he dwell\nin one city with the wicked, is destroyed with the same destruction. So\nshall it fare with this Amphiaraues; for though he be a good man and\nrighteous, and that feareth God, yet shall he perish because he beareth\nthese boasters company. And I think that he will not come near to the\ngates, so well knoweth he what shall befall him. Yet have I set\nLasthenes to stand against him, young in years but old in counsel, very\nkeen of eye, and swift of hand to cast his javelin from under his\nshield.\"\n\n\"And now, O King! hear how thy brother beareth himself, for he it is who\nstandeth yonder at the seventh gate. For he crieth aloud that he will\nclimb upon the wall and slay thee, even though he die with thee, or\ndrive thee forth into banishment, even as thou, he saith, hast driven\nhim. And on his shield there is this device: a woman leading an armed\nman, and while she leadeth him, she saith, 'I AM JUSTICE, AND I WILL\nBRING BACK THIS MAN TO THE KINGDOM WHICH IS HIS OF RIGHT.'\"\n\nBut when the King heard this he brake forth in much fury, \"Now will the\ncurse of this house be fulfilled to the uttermost. Yet must I not bewail\nmyself, lest there should fall upon us an evil that is yet greater than\nthis. And as for this Polynices, thinketh he that signs and devices will\ngive him that which he coveteth? Thinketh he that Justice is on his\nside? Nay, but from the day that he came forth from the womb he hath had\nno converse with her, neither will she stand by him this day. I will\nfight against him. Who more fit than I? Bring forth my armour that I may\nmake ready.\"\n\nAnd though the maidens entreated with many words that he would not do\nthis thing, but leave the place to some other of the chiefs, saying that\nthere was no healing or remedy for a brother's blood shed in such\nfashion, he would not hearken, but armed himself and went forth to the\nbattle. Thus ever doth the madness of men work out to the full the\ncurses of the Gods.\n\nThen the battle grew fierce about the wall, and the men of Thebes\nprevailed. For when Parthenopaeus, the Arcadian, fell like a whirlwind\nupon the gate that was over against him, Actor the Theban smote him on\nthe head with a great stone, and brake his head, so that he fell dead\nupon the ground. And when Capaneus assaulted the city, crying that not\neven the Gods should stay him, there came upon him the wrath which he\ndefied; for when he had mounted the ladder and was now about to leap\nupon the battlements, Zeus smote him with the thunderbolt, and there was\nno life left in him, so fierce was the burning heat of the lightning.\nBut the chiefest fight was between the two brothers; and this, indeed,\nthe two armies stood apart to see. For the two came together in an open\nspace before the gates; and first Polynices prayed to Here, for she was\nthe goddess of the great city of Argos, which had helped him in this\nenterprise, and Eteocles prayed to Pallas of the Golden Shield, whose\ntemple stood hard by. Then they crouched, each covered with his shield,\nand holding his spear in his hand, if by chance his enemy should give\noccasion to smite him; and if one showed so much as an eye above the rim\nof his shield the other would strike at him. But after a while King\nEteocles slipped upon a stone that was under his foot, and uncovered his\nleg, at which straightway Polynices took aim with his spear, piercing\nthe skin. And the men of Argos shouted to see it. But so doing he laid\nhis own shoulder bare, and King Eteocles gave him a wound in the breast;\nand then the men of Thebes shouted for joy. But he brake his spear in\nstriking, and would have fared ill but that with a great stone he smote\nthe spear of Polynices, and brake this also in the middle. And now were\nthe two equal, for each had lost his spear. So they drew their swords\nand came yet closer together. But Eteocles used a device which he had\nlearnt in the land of Thessaly; for he drew his left foot back, as if he\nwould have ceased from the battle, and then of a sudden moved the right\nforward; and so smiting sideways, drave his sword right through the\nbody of Polynices. But when thinking that he had slain him he set his\nweapons in the earth, and began to spoil him of his arms, the other, for\nhe yet breathed a little, laid his hand upon his sword, and though he\nhad scarce strength to smite, yet gave the King a mortal blow, so that\nthe two lay dead together on the plain. And the men of Thebes lifted up\nthe bodies of the dead, and bare them both into the city.\n\n[Illustration: THE DEAD BROTHERS.]\n\nSo was the doom of the house of Oedipus accomplished; and yet not all,\nas shall be told in the story of Antigone, who was the sister of these\ntwo.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF ANTIGONE.\n\n\nWhen the two brothers, the sons of King Oedipus, had fallen each by\nthe hand of the other, the kingdom fell to Creon their uncle. For not\nonly was he the next of kin to the dead, but also the people held him in\ngreat honour because his son Menoeceus had offered himself with a\nwilling heart that he might deliver his city from captivity. Now when\nCreon was come to the throne, he made a proclamation about the two\nPrinces, commanding that they should bury Eteocles with all honour,\nseeing that he died as beseemed a good man and a brave, doing battle for\nhis country, that it should not be delivered into the hands of the\nenemy; but as for Polynices he bade them leave his body to be devoured\nby the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field, because he had\njoined himself to the enemy, and would have beaten down the walls of\nthe city, and burned the temples of the Gods with fire, and led the\npeople captive. Also he commanded that if any man should break this\ndecree he should suffer death by stoning.\n\nNow Antigone, who was sister to the two Princes, heard that the decree\nhad gone forth, and chancing to meet her sister Ismene before the gates\nof the palace, spake to her, saying, \"O my sister, hast thou heard this\ndecree that the King hath put forth concerning our brethren that are\ndead?\"\n\nThen Ismene made answer, \"I have heard nothing, my sister, only that we\nare bereaved of both of our brethren in one day, and that the army of\nthe Argives is departed in this night that is now past. So much I know,\nbut no more.\"\n\n\"Hearken then. King Creon hath made a proclamation that they shall bury\nEteocles with all honour; but that Polynices shall lie unburied, that\nthe birds of the air and the beasts of the field may devour him; and\nthat whosoever shall break this decree shall suffer death by stoning.\"\n\n\"But if it be so, my sister, how can we avail to change it?\"\n\n\"Think whether or no thou wilt share with me the doing of this deed.\"\n\n\"What deed? What meanest thou?\"\n\n\"To pay due honour to this dead corpse.\"\n\n\"What? Wilt thou bury him when the King hath forbidden it?\"\n\n\"Yea, for he is my brother and also thine, though, perchance, thou\nwouldst not have it so. And I will not play him false.\"\n\n\"O my sister, wilt thou do this when Creon hath forbidden it?\"\n\n\"Why should he stand between me and mine?\"\n\n\"But think now what sorrows are come upon our house. For our father\nperished miserably, having first put out his own eyes; and our mother\nhanged herself with her own hands; and our two brothers fell in one day,\neach by the other's spear; and now we two only are left. And shall we\nnot fall into a worse destruction than any, if we transgress these\ncommands of the King? Think, too, that we are women and not men, and\nmust of necessity obey them that are stronger. Wherefore, as for me, I\nwill pray the dead to pardon me, seeing that I am thus constrained; but\nI will obey them that rule.\"\n\n\"I advise thee not, and, if thou thinkest thus, I would not have thee\nfor helper. But know that I will bury my brother, nor could I better die\nthan for doing such a deed. For as he loved me, so also do I love him\ngreatly. And shall not I do pleasure to the dead rather than to the\nliving, seeing that I shall abide with the dead for ever? But thou, if\nthou wilt, do dishonour to the laws of the Gods.\"\n\n\"I dishonour them not. Only I cannot set myself against the powers that\nbe.\"\n\n\"So be it: but I will bury my brother.\"\n\n11 O my sister, how I fear for thee!\"\n\n\"Fear for thyself. Thine own lot needeth all thy care.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt at least keep thy counsel, nor tell the thing to any man.\"\n\n\"Not so: hide it not. I shall scorn thee more if thou proclaim it not\naloud to all.\"\n\nSo Antigone departed; and after a while came to the same place King\nCreon, clad in his royal robes, and with his sceptre in his hand, and\nset forth his counsel to the elders who were assembled, how he had\ndealt with the two Princes according to their deserving, giving all\nhonour to him that loved his country, and casting forth the other\nunburied. And he bade them take care that this decree should be kept,\nsaying that he had also appointed certain men to watch the dead body.\n\nBut he had scarcely left speaking, when there came one of these same\nwatchers and said, \"I have not come hither in haste, O King, nay, I\ndoubted much, while I was yet on the way, whether I should not turn\nagain. For now I thought, 'Fool, why goest thou where thou shalt suffer\nfor it;' and then again, 'Fool, the King will hear the matter elsewhere,\nand then how wilt thou fare?' But at the last I came as I had purposed,\nfor I know that nothing may happen to me contrary to fate.\"\n\n\"But say,\" said the King, \"what troubles thee so much?\"\n\n\"First hear my case. I did not the thing, and know not who did it, and\nit were a grievous wrong should I fall into trouble for such a cause.\"\n\n\"Thou makest a long preface, excusing thyself, but yet hast, as I judge,\nsomething to tell.\"\n\n\"Fear, my lord, ever causeth delay.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou not speak out thy news and then begone?\"\n\n\"I will speak it. Know then that some man hath thrown dust upon this\ndead corpse, and done besides such things as are needful.\"\n\n\"What sayest thou? Who hath dared to do this deed?\"\n\n\"That I know not, for there was no mark as of spade or pick-axe; nor was\nthe earth broken, nor had waggon passed thereon. We were sore dismayed\nwhen the watchman showed the thing to us; for the body we could not see.\nBuried indeed it was not, but rather covered with dust. Nor was there\nany sign as of wild beast or of dog that had torn it. Then there arose a\ncontention among us, each blaming the other, and accusing his fellows,\nand himself denying that he had done the deed or was privy to it. And\ndoubtless we had fallen to blows but that one spake a word which made us\nall tremble for fear, knowing that it must be as he said. For he said\nthat the thing must be told to thee, and in no wise hidden. So we drew\nlots, and by evil chance the lot fell upon me. Wherefore I am here, not\nwillingly, for no man loveth him that bringeth ill tidings.\"\n\nThen said the chief of the old men, \"Consider, O King, for haply this\nthing is from the Gods.\"\n\nBut the King cried, \"Thinkest thou that the Gods care for such an one as\nthis dead man, who would have burnt their temples with fire, and laid\nwaste the land which they love, and set at naught the laws? Not so. But\nthere are men in this city who have long time had ill will to me, not\nbowing their necks to my yoke; and they have persuaded these fellows\nwith money to do this thing. Surely there never was so evil a thing as\nmoney, which maketh cities into ruinous heaps, and banisheth men from\ntheir houses, and turneth their thoughts from good unto evil. But as for\nthem that have done this deed for hire, of a truth they shall not\nescape, for I say to thee, fellow, if ye bring not here before my eyes\nthe man that did this thing, I will hang you up alive. So shall ye learn\nthat ill gains bring no profit to a man.\"\n\nSo the guard departed; but as he went he said to himself, \"Now may the\nGods grant that the man be found; but however this may be, thou shalt\nnot see me come again on such errand as this, for even now have I\nescaped beyond all hope.\" Notwithstanding, after a space he came back\nwith one of his fellows; and they brought with them the maiden Antigone,\nwith her hands bound together. And it chanced that at the same time King\nCreon came forth from the palace. Then the guard set forth the thing to\nhim, saying, \"We cleared away the dust from the dead body, and sat\nwatching it. And when it was now noon, and the sun was at his height,\nthere came a whirlwind over the plain, driving a great cloud of dust.\nAnd when this had passed, we looked, and lo! this maiden whom we have\nbrought hither stood by the dead corpse. And when she saw that it lay\nbare as before, she sent up an exceeding bitter cry, even as a bird\nwhose young ones have been taken from the nest. Then she cursed them\nthat had done this deed; and brought dust and sprinkled it upon the dead\nman, and poured water upon him three times. Then we ran and laid hold\nupon her, and accused her that she had done this deed; and she denied it\nnot. But as for me, 'tis well to have escaped from death, but it is ill\nto bring friends into the same. Yet I hold that there is nothing dearer\nto a man than his life.\"\n\nThen said the King to Antigone, \"Tell me in a word, didst thou know my\ndecree?\"\n\n\"I knew it. Was it not plainly declared?\"\n\n\"How daredst thou to transgress the laws?\"\n\n\"Zeus made not such laws, nor Justice that dwelleth with the Gods below.\nI judged not that thy decrees had such authority that a man should\ntransgress for them the unwritten sure commandments of the Gods. For\nthese, indeed, are not of to-day or yesterday, but they live for ever,\nand their beginning no man knoweth. Should I, for fear of thee, be found\nguilty against them? That I should die I knew. Why not? All men must\ndie. And if I die before my time, what loss? He who liveth among many\nsorrows, even as I have lived, counteth it gain to die. But had I left\nmy own mother's son unburied, this had been loss indeed.\"\n\nThen said the King, \"Such stubborn thoughts have a speedy fall, and are\nshivered even as the iron that hath been made hard in the furnace. And\nas for this woman and her sister--for I judge her sister to have had a\npart in this matter--though they were nearer to me than all my kindred,\nyet shall they not escape the doom of death. Wherefore let some one\nbring the other woman hither.\"\n\n[Illustration: ANTIGONE AND THE BODY OF POLYNICES.]\n\nAnd while they went to fetch the maiden Ismene, Antigone said to the\nKing, \"Is it not enough for thee to slay me? What need to say more? For\nthy words please me not nor mine thee. Yet what nobler thing could I\nhave done than to bury my own mother's son? And so would all men say but\nfear shutteth their mouths.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the King, \"none of the children of Cadmus thinketh thus, but\nthou only. But, hold, was not he that fell in battle with this man thy\nbrother also?\"\n\n\"Yes, truly, my brother he was.\"\n\n\"And dost thou not dishonour him when thou honourest his enemy?\"\n\n\"The dead man would not say it, could he speak.\"\n\n\"Shall then the wicked have like honour with the good?\"\n\n\"How knowest thou but that such honour pleaseth the Gods below?\"\n\n\"I have no love for them I hate, though they be dead.\"\n\n\"Of hating I know nothing; 'tis enough for me to love.\"\n\n\"If thou wilt love, go love the dead. But while I live no woman shall\nrule me.\"\n\nThen those that had been sent to fetch the maiden Ismene brought her\nforth from the palace. And when the King accused her that she had been\nprivy to the deed she denied not, but would have shared one lot with her\nsister. But Antigone turned from her, saying, \"Not so; thou hast no part\nor lot in the matter. For thou hast chosen life, and I have chosen\ndeath; and even so shall it be.\" And when Ismene saw that she prevailed\nnothing with her sister, she turned to the King and said, \"Wilt thou\nslay the bride of thy son?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said he, \"there are other brides to win!\"\n\n\"But none,\" she made reply, \"that accord so well with him.\"\n\n\"I will have no evil wives for my sons,\" said the King.\n\nThen cried Antigone, \"O Haemon, whom I love, how thy father wrongeth\nthee!\"\n\nThen the King bade the guards lead the two into the palace. But scarcely\nhad they gone when there came to the place the Prince Haemon, the King's\nson, who was betrothed to the maiden Antigone. And when the King saw\nhim, he said, \"Art thou content, my son, with thy father's judgment?\"\n\nAnd the young man answered, \"My father, I would follow thy counsels in\nall things.\"\n\nThen said the King, \"'Tis well spoken, my son. This is a thing to be\ndesired, that a man should have obedient children. But if it be\notherwise with a man, he hath gotten great trouble for himself, and\nmaketh sport for them that hate him. And now as to this matter. There is\nnought worse than an evil wife. Wherefore I say, let this damsel wed a\nbridegroom among the dead. For since I have found her, alone of all this\npeople, breaking my decree, surely she shall die. Nor shall it profit\nher to claim kinship with me, for he that would rule a city must first\ndeal justly with his own kindred And as for obedience, this it is that\nmaketh a city to stand both in peace and in war.\"\n\nTo this the Prince Haemon made answer, \"What thou sayest, my father, I\ndo not judge. Yet bethink thee, that I see and hear on thy behalf what\nis hidden from thee. For common men cannot abide thy look if they say\nthat which pleaseth thee not. Yet do I hear it in secret. Know then that\nall the city mourneth for this maiden, saying that she dieth wrongfully\nfor a very noble deed, in that she buried her brother. And 'tis well, my\nfather, not to be wholly set on thy own thoughts, but to listen to the\ncounsels of others.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the King; \"shall I be taught by such an one as thou?\"\n\n\"I pray thee regard my words, if they be well, and not my years.\"\n\n\"Can it be well to honour them that transgress? And hath not this woman\ntransgressed?\"\n\n\"The people of this city judgeth not so.\"\n\n\"The people, sayest thou? Is it for them to rule, or for me?\"\n\n\"No city is the possession of one man only.\"\n\nSo the two answered one the other, and their anger waxed hot. And at the\nlast the King cried, \"Bring this accursed woman, and slay her before his\neyes.\"\n\nAnd the Prince answered, \"That thou shalt never do. And know this also,\nthat thou shalt never see my face again.\"\n\nSo he went away in a rage; and the old men would have appeased the\nKing's wrath, but he would not hearken to them, but said that the two\nmaidens should die. \"Wilt thou then slay them both?\" said the old men.\n\n\"'Tis well said,\" the King made answer. \"Her that meddled not with the\nmatter I harm not.\"\n\n\"And how wilt thou deal with the other?\"\n\n\"There is a desolate place, and there I will shut her up alive in a\nsepulchre; yet giving her so much of food as shall quit us of guilt in\nthe matter, for I would not have the city defiled. There let her\npersuade Death, whom she loveth so much, that he harm her not.\"\n\nSo the guards led Antigone away to shut her up alive in the sepulchre.\nBut scarcely had they departed when there came the old prophet Tiresias,\nseeking the King. Blind he was, so that a boy led him by the hand; but\nthe Gods had given him to see things to come. And when the King saw him\nhe asked, \"What seekest thou, wisest of men?\"\n\nThen the prophet answered, \"Hearken, O King, and I will tell thee. I sat\nin my seat, after my custom, in the place whither all manner of birds\nresort. And as I sat I heard a cry of birds that I knew not, very\nstrange and full of wrath. And I knew that they tare and slew each\nother, for I heard the fierce flapping of their wings. And being afraid,\nI made inquiry about the fire, how it burned upon the altars. And this\nboy, for as I am a guide to others so he guideth me, told me that it\nshone not at all, but smouldered and was dull, and that the flesh which\nwas burnt upon the altar spluttered in the flame, and wasted away into\ncorruption and filthiness. And now I tell thee, O King, that the city is\ntroubled by thy ill counsels. For the dogs and the birds of the air tear\nthe flesh of this dead son of Oedipus, whom thou sufferest not to have\ndue burial, and carry it to the altars, polluting them therewith.\nWherefore the Gods receive not from us prayer or sacrifice; and the cry\nof the birds hath an evil sound, for they are full of the flesh of a\nman. Therefore I bid the be wise in time. For all men may err; but he\nthat keepeth not his folly, but repenteth, doeth well; but stubbornness\ncometh to great trouble.\"\n\nThen the King answered, \"Old man, I know the race of prophets full well,\nhow ye sell your art for gold. But, make thy trade as thou wilt, this\nman shall not have burial; yea, though the eagles of Zeus carry his\nflesh to their master's throne in heaven, he shall not have it.\"\n\nAnd when the prophet spake again, entreating him, and warning, the King\nanswered him after the same fashion, that he spake not honestly, but had\nsold his art for money. But at the last the prophet spake in great\nwrath, saying, \"Know, O King, that before many days shall pass, thou\nshalt pay a life for a life, even one of thine own children, for them\nwith whom thou hast dealt unrighteously, shutting up the living with the\ndead, and keeping the dead from them to whom they belong. Therefore the\nFuries lie in wait for thee, and thou shalt see whether or no I speak\nthese things for money. For there shall be mourning and lamentation in\nthine own house; and against thy people shall be stirred up all the\ncities, whose sons thou hast made to lie unburied. And now, my child,\nlead me home, and let this man rage against them that are younger than\nI.\"\n\nSo the prophet departed, and the old men were sore afraid, and said, \"He\nhath spoken terrible things, O King; nor ever since these gray hairs\nwere black have we known him say that which was false.\"\n\n\"Even so,\" said the King, \"and I am troubled in heart, and yet am loath\nto depart from my purpose.\"\n\n\"King Creon,\" said the old men, \"thou needest good counsel.\"\n\n\"What, then, would ye have done?\"\n\n\"Set free the maiden from the sepulchre, and give this dead man burial.\"\n\nThen the King cried to his people that they should bring bars wherewith\nto loosen the doors of the sepulchre, and hasted with them to the place.\nBut coming on their way to the body of Prince Polynices, they took it\nup, and washed it, and buried that which remained of it, and raised over\nthe ashes a great mound of earth. And this being done, they drew near to\nthe place of the sepulchre; and as they approached, the King heard\nwithin a very piteous voice, and knew it for the voice of his son. Then\nhe bade his attendants loose the door with all speed; and when they had\nloosed it, they beheld within a very piteous sight. For the maiden\nAntigone had hanged herself by the girdle of linen which she wore, and\nthe young man Prince Haemon stood with his arms about her dead corpse,\nembracing it. And when the King saw him, he cried to him to come forth;\nbut the Prince glared fiercely upon him and answered him not a word, but\ndrew his two-edged sword. Then the King, thinking that his son was\nminded in his madness to slay him, leapt back, but the Prince drave the\nsword into his own heart, and fell forward on the earth, still holding\nthe dead maiden in his arms. And when they brought the tidings of these\nthings to Queen Eurydice, that was the wife of King Creon and mother to\nthe Prince, she could not endure the grief, being thus bereaved of her\nchildren, but laid hold of a sword, and slew herself therewith.\n\nSo the house of King Creon was left desolate unto him that day, because\nhe despised the ordinances of the Gods.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF IPHIGENIA IN AULIS.\n\n\nKing Agamemnon sat in his tent at Aulis, where the army of the Greeks\nwas gathered together, being about to sail against the great city of\nTroy. And it was now past midnight; but the King slept not, for he was\ncareful and troubled about many things. And he had a lamp before him,\nand in his hand a tablet of pine wood, whereon he wrote. But he seemed\nnot to remain in the same mind about that which he wrote; for now he\nwould blot out the letters, and then would write them again; and now he\nfastened the seal upon the tablet and then brake it. And as he did this\nhe wept, and was like to a man distracted. But after a while he called\nto an old man, his attendant (the man had been given in time past by\nTyndareus to his daughter, Queen Clytaemnestra), and said \"Old man, thou\nknowest how Calchas the soothsayer bade me offer for a sacrifice to\nArtemis, who is goddess of this place, my daughter Iphigenia, saying\nthat so only should the army have a prosperous voyage from this place to\nTroy, and should take the city and destroy it; and how when I heard\nthese words I bade Talthybius the herald go throughout the army and bid\nthem depart, every man to his own country, for that I would not do this\nthing; and how my brother, King Menelaues, persuaded me so that I\nconsented to it. Now, therefore, hearken to this, for what I am about to\ntell thee three men only know, namely, Calchas the soothsayer, and\nMenelaues, and Ulysses, King of Ithaca. I wrote a letter to my wife the\nQueen, that she should send her daughter to this place, that she might\nbe married to King Achilles; and I magnified the man to her, saying that\nhe would in no wise sail with us unless I would give him my daughter in\nmarriage. But now I have changed my purpose, and have written another\nletter after this fashion, as I will now set forth to thee,--'DAUGHTER\nOF LEDA, SEND NOT THY CHILD TO THE LAND OF EUBOEA, FOR I WILL GIVE\nHER IN MARRIAGE AT ANOTHER TIME.'\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the old man, \"but how wilt thou deal with King Achilles?\nWill he not be wroth, hearing that he hath been cheated of his wife?\"\n\n\"Not so,\" answered the King, \"for we have indeed used his name, but he\nknoweth nothing of this marriage. And now make haste. Sit not thou down\nby any fountain in the woods, and suffer not thine eyes to sleep. And\nbeware lest the chariot bearing the Queen and her daughter pass thee\nwhere the roads divide. And see that thou keep the seal upon this letter\nunbroken.\"\n\nSo the old man departed with the letter. But scarcely had he left the\ntent when King Menelaues spied him and laid hands on him, taking the\nletter and breaking the seal. And the old man cried out--\n\n\"Help, my lord; here is one hath taken thy letter!\"\n\nThen King Agamemnon came forth from his tent, saying, \"What meaneth this\nuproar and disputing that I hear?\"\n\nAnd Menelaues answered, \"Seest thou this letter that I hold in my hand?\"\n\n\"I see it: it is mine. Give it to me.\"\n\n\"I give it not till I have read that which is written therein to all the\narmy of the Greeks.\"\n\n\"Where didst thou find it?\"\n\n\"I found it while I waited for thy daughter till she should come to the\ncamp.\"\n\n\"What hast thou to do with that? May I not rule my own household?\"\n\nThen Menelaues reproached his brother because he did not continue in one\nmind. \"For first,\" he said, \"before thou wast chosen captain of the\nhost, thou wast all things to all men, greeting every man courteously,\nand taking him by the hand, and talking with him, and leaving thy doors\nopen to any that would enter; but afterwards, being now chosen, thou\nwast haughty and hard of access. And next, when this trouble came upon\nthe army, and thou wast sore afraid lest thou shouldst lose thy office,\nand so miss renown, didst thou not hearken to Calchas the soothsayer,\nand promise thy daughter for sacrifice, and send for her to the camp,\nmaking pretence of giving her in marriage to Achilles? And now thou art\ngone back from thy word. Surely this is an evil day for Greece, that is\ntroubled because thou wantest wisdom.\"\n\nThen answered King Agamemnon, \"What is thy quarrel with me? Why blamest\nthou me if thou couldst not rule thy wife? And now to win back this\nwoman, because forsooth she is fair, thou castest aside both reason and\nhonour. And I, if I had an ill purpose, and now have changed it for that\nwhich is wiser, dost thou charge me with folly? Let them that sware the\noath to Tyndareus go with thee on this errand. Why should I slay my\nchild, and work for myself sorrow and remorse without end that thou\nmayest have vengeance for thy wicked wife?\"\n\nThen Menelaues turned away in a rage, crying, \"Betray me if thou wilt. I\nwill betake myself to other counsels and other friends.\"\n\nBut even as he spake there came a messenger, saying, \"King Agamemnon, I\nam come, as thou badest me, with thy daughter Iphigenia. Also her\nmother, Queen Clytaemnestra, is come, bringing with her her little son,\nOrestes. And now they are resting themselves and their horses by the\nside of a spring, for indeed the way is long and weary. And all the army\nis gathered about them, to see them and greet them. And men question\nmuch wherefore they are come, saying, 'Doth the King make a marriage for\nhis daughter; or hath he sent for her, desiring to see her?' But I know\nthy purpose, my lord; wherefore we will dance and shout and make merry,\nfor this is a happy day for the maiden.\"\n\nBut the King Agamemnon was sore dismayed when he knew that the Queen was\ncome, and spake to himself. \"Now what shall I say to my wife? For that\nshe is rightly come to the marriage of her daughter who can deny? But\nwhat will she say when she knoweth my purpose? And of the maiden, what\nshall I say? Unhappy maiden whose bridegroom shall be death! For she\nwill cry to me, 'Wilt thou kill me, my father?' And the little Orestes\nwill wail, not knowing what he doeth, seeing he is but a babe. Cursed be\nParis, who hath wrought this woe!\"\n\nAnd now King Menelaues came back, saying that it repented him of what he\nhad said, \"For why should thy child die for me? What hath she to do\nwith Helen? Let the army be scattered, so that this wrong be not done.\"\n\nThen said King Agamemnon, \"But how shall I escape from this strait? For\nthe whole host will compel me to this deed?\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said King Menelaues, \"if thou wilt send back the maiden to\nArgos.\"\n\n\"But what shall that profit,\" said the King; \"for Calchas will cause the\nmatter to be known, or Ulysses, saying that I have failed of my promise;\nand if I fly to Argos, they will come and destroy my city and lay waste\nmy land. Woe is me! in what a strait am I set! But take thou care, my\nbrother, that Clytaemnestra hear nothing of these things.\"\n\nAnd when he had ended speaking, the Queen herself came unto the tent,\nriding in a chariot, having her daughter by her side. And she bade one\nof the attendants take out with care the caskets which she had brought\nfor her daughter, and bade others help her daughter to alight, and\nherself also, and to a fourth she said that he should take the young\nOrestes. Then Iphigenia greeted her father, saying, \"Thou hast done well\nto send for me, my father.\"\n\n\"'Tis true and yet not true, my child.\"\n\n\"Thou lookest not well pleased to see me, my father.\"\n\n\"He that is a King and commandeth a host hath many cares.\"\n\n\"Put away thy cares awhile, and give thyself to me.\"\n\n\"I am glad beyond measure to see thee.\"\n\n\"Glad art thou? Then why dost thou weep?\"\n\n\"I weep because thou must be long time absent from me.\"\n\n\"Perish all these fightings and troubles!\"\n\n\"They will cause many to perish, and me most miserably of all.\"\n\n\"Art thou going a journey from me, my father?\"\n\n\"Aye, and thou also hast a journey to make.\"\n\n\"Must I make it alone, or with my mother?\"\n\n\"Alone; neither father nor mother may be with thee.\"\n\n\"Sendest thou me to dwell elsewhere?\"\n\n\"Hold thy peace: such things are not for maidens to inquire.\"\n\n\"Well, my father, order matters with the Phrygians, and then make haste\nto return.\"\n\n\"I must first make a sacrifice to the Gods.\"\n\n\"'Tis well. The Gods should have due honour.\"\n\n\"Aye, and thou wilt stand close to the altar.\"\n\n\"Shall I lead the dances, my father?\"\n\n\"O my child, how I envy thee, that thou knowest nought! And now go into\nthe tent; but first kiss me, and give me thy hand, for thou shalt be\nparted from thy father for many days.\"\n\nAnd when she was gone within, he cried, \"O fair bosom and very lovely\ncheeks and yellow hair of my child! O city of Priam, what woe thou\nbringest on me! But I must say no more.\"\n\nThen he turned to the Queen, and excused himself that he wept when he\nshould rather have rejoiced for the marriage of his daughter. And when\nthe Queen would know of the estate of the bridegroom, he told her that\nhis name was Achilles, and that he was the son of Peleus by his wife\nThetis, the daughter of Nereus of the sea, and that he dwelt in Phthia.\nAnd when she inquired of the time of the marriage he said that it\nshould be in the same moon, on the first lucky day; and as to the place,\nthat it must be where the bridegroom was sojourning, that is to say, in\nthe camp. \"And I,\" said the King, \"will give the maiden to her husband.\"\n\n\"But where,\" answered the Queen, \"is it your pleasure that I should be?\"\n\n\"Thou must return to Argos, and care for the maidens there.\"\n\n\"Sayest thou that I must return? Who then will hold up the torch for the\nbride?\"\n\n\"I will do that which is needful. For it is not seemly that thou\nshouldst be present where the whole army is gathered together.\"\n\n\"Aye, but it is seemly that a mother should give her daughter in\nmarriage.\"\n\n\"But the maidens at home should not be left alone.\"\n\n\"They are well kept in their chambers.\"\n\n\"Be persuaded, lady.\"\n\n\"Not so: thou shalt order that which is without the house, but I that\nwhich is within.\"\n\nBut now came Achilles, to tell the King that the army was growing\nimpatient, saying that, unless they might sail speedily to Troy, they\nwould return each man to his home. And when the Queen heard his\nname--for he had said to the attendant, \"Tell thy master that Achilles,\nthe son of Peleus, would speak with him\"--she came forth from the tent\nand greeted him, and bade him give her his right hand. And when the\nyoung man was ashamed (for it was not counted a seemly thing that men\nshould speak with women) she said--\n\n\"But why art thou ashamed, seeing that thou art about to marry my\ndaughter?\"\n\nAnd he answered, \"What sayest thou, lady? I cannot speak for wonder at\nthy words.\"\n\n\"Often men are ashamed when they see new friends, and the talk is of\nmarriage.\"\n\n\"But, lady, I never was suitor for thy daughter. Nor have the sons of\nAtreus said aught to me of the matter.\"\n\nBut the Queen was beyond measure astonished, and cried, \"Now this is\nshameful indeed, that I should seek a bridegroom for my daughter in such\nfashion.\"\n\nBut when Achilles would have departed, to inquire of the King what this\nthing might mean, the old man that had at the first carried the letter\ncame forth, and bade him stay. And when he had assurance that he should\nreceive no harm for what he should tell them, he unfolded the whole\nmatter. And when the Queen had heard it, she cried to Achilles, \"O son\nof Thetis of the sea! help me now in this strait, and help this maiden\nthat hath been called thy bride, though this indeed be false. 'Twill be\na shame to thee if such wrong be done under thy name; for it is thy name\nthat hath undone us. Nor have I any altar to which I may flee, nor any\nfriend but thee only in this army.\"\n\nThen Achilles made answer, \"Lady, I learnt from Chiron, who was the most\nrighteous of men, to be true and honest. And if the sons of Atreus\ngovern according to right, I obey them; and if not, not. Know, then,\nthat thy daughter, seeing that she hath been given, though but in word\nonly, to me, shall not be slain by her father. For if she so die, then\nshall my name be brought to great dishonour, seeing that through it thou\nhast been persuaded to come with her to this place. This sword shall see\nright soon whether any one will dare to take this maiden from me.\"\n\nAnd now King Agamemnon came forth, saying that all things were ready for\nthe marriage, and that they waited for the maiden, not knowing that the\nwhole matter had been revealed to the Queen. Then she said--\n\n\"Tell me now, dost thou purpose to slay thy daughter and mine?\" And when\nhe was silent, not knowing, indeed, what to say, she reproached him with\nmany words, that she had been a loving and faithful wife to him, for\nwhich he made her an ill recompense slaying her child.\n\nAnd when she had made an end of speaking, the maiden came forth from the\ntent, holding the young child Orestes in her arms, and cast herself upon\nher knees before her father, and besought him, saying, \"I would, my\nfather, that I had the voice of Orpheus, who made even the rocks to\nfollow him, that I might persuade thee; but now all that I have I give,\neven these tears. O my father, I am thy child; slay me not before my\ntime. This light is sweet to look upon. Drive me not from it to the\nland of darkness. I was the first to call thee father; and the first to\nwhom thou didst say 'my child.' And thou wouldst say to me, 'Some day,\nmy child, I shall see thee a happy wife in the home of a rich husband.'\nAnd I would answer, 'And I will receive thee with all love when thou art\nold, and pay thee back for all the benefits thou hast done unto me.'\nThis I indeed remember, but thou forgettest; for thou art ready to slay\nme. Do it not, I beseech thee, by Pelops thy grandsire, and Atreus thy\nfather, and this my mother, who travailed in childbirth of me, and now\ntravaileth again in her sorrow. And thou, O my brother, though thou art\nbut a babe, help me. Weep with me; beseech thy father that he slay not\nthy sister. O my father, though he be silent, yet, indeed, he beseecheth\nthee. For his sake, therefore, yea, and for mine own, have pity upon me,\nand slay me not.\"\n\nBut the King was sore distracted, knowing not what he should say or do,\nfor a terrible necessity was upon him, seeing that the army could not\nmake their journey to Troy unless this deed should first be done. And\nwhile he doubted came Achilles, saying that there was a horrible tumult\nin the camp, the men crying out that the maiden must be sacrificed, and\nthat when he would have stayed them from their purpose, the people had\nstoned him with stones, and that his own Myrmidons helped him not; but\nrather were the first to assail him. Nevertheless, he said that he would\nfight for the maiden, even to the utmost; and that there were faithful\nmen who would stand with him and help him. But when the maiden heard\nthese words, she stood forth and said, \"Hearken to me, my mother. Be not\nwroth with my father, for we cannot fight against fate. Also we must\ntake thought that this young man suffer not, for his help will avail\nnought, and he himself will perish. Therefore I am resolved to die; for\nall Greece looketh to me; for without me the ships cannot make their\nvoyage, nor the city of Troy be taken. Thou didst bear me, my mother,\nnot for thyself only, but for this whole people. Wherefore I will give\nmyself for them. Offer me for an offering; and let the Greeks take the\ncity of Troy, for this shall be my memorial for ever.\"\n\nThen said Achilles, \"Lady, I should count myself most happy if the Gods\nwould grant thee to be my wife. For I love thee well, when I see thee\nhow noble thou art. And if thou wilt, I will carry thee to my home. And\nI doubt not that I shall save thee, though all the men of Greece be\nagainst me.\"\n\nBut the maiden answered, \"What I say, I say with full purpose. Nor will\nI that any man should die for me, but rather will I save this land of\nGreece.\"\n\nAnd Achilles said, \"If this be thy will, lady, I cannot say nay, for it\nis a noble thing that thou doest.\"\n\nNor was the maiden turned from her purpose though her mother besought\nher with many tears. So they that were appointed led her to the grove of\nArtemis, where there was built an altar, and the whole army of the\nGreeks gathered about it. But when the King saw her going to her death\nhe covered his face with his mantle; but she stood by him, and said, \"I\ngive my body with a willing heart to die for my country and for the\nwhole land of Greece. I pray the Gods that ye may prosper, and win the\nvictory in this war, and come back safe to your homes. And now let no\nman touch me, for I will offer my neck to the sword with a good heart.\"\n\nAnd all men marvelled to see the maiden of what a good courage she was.\nThen the herald Talthybius stood in the midst and commanded silence to\nthe people; and Calchas the soothsayer put a garland about her head, and\ndrew a sharp knife from his sheath. And all the army stood regarding the\nmaiden and the priest and the altar.\n\nThen there befell a marvellous thing. For Calchas struck with his knife,\nfor the sound of the stroke all men heard, but the maiden was not there.\nWhither she had gone no one knew; but in her stead there lay gasping a\ngreat hind, and all the altar was red with the blood thereof.\n\nAnd Calchas said, \"See ye this, men of Greece, how the goddess hath\nprovided this offering in the place of the maiden, for she would not\nthat her altar should be defiled with innocent blood. Be of good\ncourage, therefore, and depart every man to his ship, for this day ye\nshall sail across the sea to the land of Troy.\"\n\nBut how it fared with the maiden may be read in the story of \"Iphigenia\namong the Taurians.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF PHILOCTETES, OR THE BOW OF HERCULES.\n\n\nPrince Philoctetes, who reigned in Methone, which is in the land of\nThessaly, sailed with the other Princes of Greece to make war against\nthe great city of Troy. For he also had been one of the suitors of Helen\nthe Fair, and had bound himself with a great oath that he would avenge\nher and her husband, whomsoever she should choose, on any man that\nshould dare to do her wrong. Now Philoctetes had been companion to\nHercules in many of his labours, and also had been with him when he died\nupon Mount AEta. For which cause Hercules gave him the bow and the arrows\nwhich he bare, having received them at the first from Apollo. A very\nmighty bow it was, shooting arrows so as none other could do, and the\narrows were sure dealers of death, for they had been dipped in the blood\nof the great dragon of Lerna, and the wounds which they made no\nphysician might heal. But it chanced that the Prince, being on his\nvoyage to Troy, landed at the island of Chrysa, where there was an altar\nof Athene, the goddess of the place, and, desiring to show the altar to\nhis companions, he approached it too nearly; whereupon the serpent that\nguarded it lest it should be profaned, bit him in the foot. The wound\nwas very sore and could not be healed, but tormented him day and night\nwith grievous pains, making him groan and cry aloud. And when men were\ntroubled with his complainings, and also with the noisome stench of his\nwound, the chiefs took counsel together, and it seemed good to the sons\nof Atreus, King Agamemnon and King Menelaues, who were the leaders of the\nhost, that he should be left alone on the island of Lemnos. This matter\nthey committed to Ulysses, who did according to their bidding. But when\nthe Greeks had laid siege to the city of Troy, nigh upon ten years, they\nremembered Prince Philoctetes and how they had dealt with him. For now\nthe great Achilles was dead, having been slain by Prince Paris with an\narrow in the Scaean Gate, when he was ready to break into the city; and\nthe soothsayers affirmed that the Greeks should not have their wish upon\nTroy, till they should bring against it the great archer to whom they\nhad done wrong. Then the chiefs took counsel together, and chose\nUlysses, who was crafty beyond all other men, to accomplish this matter,\nand with him they sent Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles, who excelled in\nstrength, even as his father had done.\n\nNow when these two were landed upon the island, Ulysses led the way to\nthe place where in time past he had left Philoctetes. A cave it was in\nthe cliff, with two mouths to it, of which the one looked to the east\nand the other to the west, so that in winter time a man might see the\nsun and be warm, but in summer the wind blew through it, bringing\ncoolness and sleep, and a little below was a spring of fair water to\ndrink. Then said Ulysses to Neoptolemus, \"Go and spy out the place, and\nsee whether or no the man be there.\"\n\nAnd the Prince went up and looked into the cave, and found that it was\nempty, but that there were signs of one who dwelt there, a bed of\nleaves, and a cup of wood, very rudely fashioned, and pieces of wood\nfor kindling fires, and also, a very piteous sight, the rags wherewith\nthe sick man was wont to dress his wound. And when he had told what he\nsaw, Ulysses said, \"That the man dwelleth here is manifest; nor can he\nbe far away, for how can one that is wounded travel far? Doubtless he is\ngone to some place whither the birds resort to slay them, or, haply, to\nfind some herb wherewith to assuage his pain. But do thou set one who\nwill wait for his coming, for it would fare ill with me should he find\nme.\"\n\nAnd when the watch had been set Ulysses said again, \"I will tell what it\nis needful for thee to say and do. Only thou must be bold, son of\nAchilles, and that not only with thy hand, but in heart also, if what I\nshall now unfold to thee shall seem new or strange. Hearken then: when\nthe man shall ask thee who thou art and whence thou comest, thou shalt\nanswer him that thou art the son of Achilles, and that thou hast left\nthe host of the Greeks, because they had done thee great wrong, for\nthat, having prayed thee to come as not being able to take the great\ncity of Troy without thee, yet they would not deliver to thee the arms\nof thy father Achilles, but gave them to Ulysses. And here thou mayest\nspeak against me all kinds of evil, for such words will not trouble me,\nbut if thou accomplish not this thing thou wilt trouble the whole host\nof the Greeks. For know that without this man's bow thou canst not take\nthe city of Troy; know also that thou only canst approach him without\nperil, not being of the number of those who sailed with him at the\nfirst. And if it please thee not to get the bow by stealth, for this\nindeed thou must do--and I know thee to be one that loveth not to speak\nfalsely or to contrive deceit--yet bethink thee that victory is sweet.\nBe thou bold to-day, and we will be righteous to-morrow.\"\n\nThen the Prince made reply, \"'Tis not in me, son of Laertes, to work by\ncraft and guile, neither was it in my father before me. I am ready to\ncarry off this man with a strong arm; and how, being a cripple, shall he\nstand against us? but deceit I will not use. And though I should be\nloath to fail thee in this our common enterprise, yet were this better\nthan to prevail by fraud.\"\n\nThen said Ulysses, \"And I, too, in my youth would do all things by the\nhand and not by the tongue; but now I know that the tongue hath alone\nthe mastery.\"\n\nAnd the Prince replied, \"But thou biddest me speak the thing that is\nfalse.\"\n\n\"I bid thee prevail over Philoctetes by craft.\"\n\n\"But why may I not persuade him, or even constrain him by force?\"\n\n\"To persuasion he will not hearken, and force thou mayest not use, for\nhe hath arrows that deal death without escape.\"\n\n\"But is it not a base thing for a man to lie?\"\n\n\"Surely not, if a lie save him.\"\n\n\"Tell me what is the gain to me if this man come to Troy.\"\n\n\"Without this bow and these arrows Troy falleth not. For though it is\nthe pleasure of the Gods that thou take the city, yet canst not thou\ntake it without these, nor indeed these without thee.\"\n\nAnd when the Prince had mused awhile, he said, \"If this be so with the\narms, I must needs get them.\"\n\nThen Ulysses said, \"Do this, and thou shalt gain a double honour.\"\n\nAnd the Prince said, \"What meanest thou by thy 'double honour'? Tell\nme, and I refuse no more.\"\n\n\"The praise of wisdom and of courage also.\"\n\n\"Be it so: I will do this deed, nor count it shame.\"\n\n\"'Tis well,\" said Ulysses, \"and now I will despatch this watcher to the\nship, whom I will send again in pilot's disguise if thou desire, and it\nseems needful. Also I myself will depart, and may Hermes, the god of\ncraft, and Athene, who ever is with me, cause us to prevail.\"\n\nAfter a while Philoctetes came up the path to the cave very slowly, and\nwith many groans. And when he saw the strangers (for now some of the\nship's crew were with Prince Neoptolemus) he cried, \"Who are ye that are\ncome to this inhospitable land? Greeks I know you to be by your garb;\nbut tell me more.\"\n\nAnd when the Prince had told his name and lineage, and that he was\nsailing from Troy, Philoctetes cried, \"Sayest thou from Troy? Yet surely\nthou didst not sail with us in the beginning.\"\n\n\"What?\" cried the Prince. \"Hadst thou then a share in this matter of\nTroy?\"\n\nAnd Philoctetes made reply, \"Knowest thou not whom thou seest? Hast thou\nnot heard the story of my sorrows?\" And when he heard that the young man\nknew nothing of these things: \"Surely this is sorrow upon sorrow if no\nreport of my state hath come to the land of Greece, and I lie here\nalone, and my disease groweth upon me, but my enemies laugh and keep\nsilence!\" And then he told his name and fortunes, and how the Greeks had\nleft him on the shore while he slept, and how it was the tenth year of\nhis sojourning in the island. \"For know,\" he said, \"that it is without\nhaven or anchorage, and no man cometh hither of his free will; and if\nany come unwilling, as indeed it doth sometimes chance, they speak soft\nwords to me and give me, haply, some meat; but when I make suit to them\nthat they carry me to my home, they will not. And this wrong the sons of\nAtreus and Ulysses have worked against me; for which may the Gods who\ndwell in Olympus make them equal recompense.\"\n\n\"And I,\" said the Prince, \"am no lover of these men. For when Achilles\nwas dead--\"\n\n\"How sayest thou? Is the son of Peleus dead?\"\n\n\"Yea; but it was the hand of a God and not of a man that slew him.\"\n\n\"A mighty warrior slain by a mighty foe! But say on.\"\n\n\"Ulysses, and Phoenix who was my sire's foster-father, came in a ship\nto fetch me; and when I was come to the camp they even greeted me\nkindly, and sware that it was Achilles' self they saw, so like was I to\nmy sire. And, my mourning ended, I sought the sons of Atreus and asked\nof them the arms of my father, but they made answer that they had given\nthem to Ulysses; and Ulysses, chancing to be there, affirmed that they\nhad done well, seeing that he had saved them from the enemy. And when I\ncould prevail nothing, I sailed away in great wrath.\"\n\n\"'Tis even,\" Philoctetes made reply, \"as I should have judged of them.\nBut I marvel that the Greater Ajax endured to see such doings.\"\n\n\"Ah! but he was already dead.\"\n\n\"This is grievous news. And how fares old Nestor of Pylos?\"\n\n\"But ill, for his eldest born, Antilochus, is dead.\"\n\n\"I could have spared any rather than these two, Ajax and Antilochus. But\nPatroclus, where was he when thy father died?\"\n\n\"He was already slain. For 'tis ever thus that war taketh the true man\nand leaveth the false. But of these things I have had enough and more\nthan enough. Henceforth my island of Scyros, though it be rocky and\nsmall, shall content me. And now, Prince Philoctetes, I go, for the wind\nfavours us, and we must take the occasion which the Gods give us.\"\n\nAnd when Philoctetes knew that Neoptolemus was about to depart, he\nbesought him with many prayers that he would take him also on his ship;\nfor the voyage, he said, would not be of more than a single day. \"Put\nme,\" he said, \"where thou wilt, in forecastle, or hold, or stern, and\nset me on shore even as it may seem best to thee. Only take me from this\nplace.\" And the sailors also made entreaty to the Prince that he would\ndo so; and he, after a while, made as if he consented to their prayers.\n\nBut while Philoctetes was yet thanking him and his companions, there\ncame two men to the cave, of whom one was a sailor in the Prince's ship,\nand the other a merchant. And the merchant said that he was sailing from\nTroy to his home, and that chancing to come to the island, and knowing\nthat the Prince was there, he judged it well to tell him his news; 'twas\nbriefly this, that Phoenix and the sons of Theseus had sailed, having\norders from the sons of Atreus that they should bring the Prince back;\nand also that Ulysses and Diomed were gone on another errand, even to\nfetch some one of whom the rulers had need. And when the Prince would\nknow who he might be, the merchant bade him say who it was standing\nnear, and when he heard that it was Philoctetes, he cried, \"Haste thee\nto thy ship, son of Achilles, for this is the very man whom the two are\ncoming to fetch. Haply thou hast not heard what befell at Troy. There is\na certain Helenus, son of King Priam, and a famous soothsayer. Him\nUlysses, the man of craft, took a prisoner, and brought into the\nassembly of Greeks; and the man prophesied to them that they should\nnever take the city of Troy, unless they should bring thither the\nPrince Philoctetes from the island whereon he dwelt. And Ulysses said,'\nIf I bring not the man, whether willing or unwilling, then cut off my\nhead.'\"\n\nAnd when Philoctetes heard this his anger was very great, and he became\nyet more eager to depart. But first he must go into the cave and fetch\nsuch things as he needed, herbs with which he was wont to soothe the\npains of his wounds, and all the furniture of his bow. And when he spake\nof the bow, the Prince asked whether it was indeed the famous bow of\nHercules that he carried in his hand, and would fain, he said, touch it,\nif only it were lawful so to do. And Philoctetes answered, \"Yes, thou\nshalt touch it and handle it, which, indeed, no other man hath ever\ndone, for thou hast done a good deed to me, and it was for a good deed\nthat I myself also received it.\"\n\nBut when they would have gone towards the ship, the pangs of his wound\ncame upon Philoctetes. And then at first he cried, saying, that it was\nwell with him; but at the last, he could endure no more, and cried to\nthe Prince that he should draw his sword and smite off the foot, nor\nheed if he should slay him; only he would be rid of the pain. And then\nhe bade him take the bow and keep it for him while he slept, for that\nsleep came ever upon him after these great pains. Only he must keep it\nwell, especially if those two, Ulysses and Diomed, should chance to come\nin the meanwhile. And when the Prince had promised this, Philoctetes\ngave him the bow, saying, \"Take it, my son, and pray to the jealous Gods\nthat it bring not sorrow to thee as it hath brought sorrow to me, and to\nhim that was its master before me.\"\n\nAnd after a while the sick man slept. And the Prince, with the sailors\nthat were his companions, watched by him the while.\n\nBut when the sailors would have had the Prince depart, seeing that he\nhad now the great bow and the arrows, for whose sake he had come, he\nwould not, for they would be of no avail, he said, without the archer\nhimself. And in no long space of time the sick man woke. Right glad was\nhe to see that the strangers had not departed, for, indeed, he had\nscarce hoped that this might be. Therefore commending the young man\nmuch for his courage and loving kindness, he would have him help him\nstraightway to the ship, that his pain having now ceased awhile, they\nmight be ready to depart without delay. So they went, but the Prince was\nsorely troubled in his mind and cried, \"Now what shall I do?\" and \"now\nam I at my wits' end so that even words fail me.\" At which words,\nindeed, Philoctetes was grieved, thinking that it repented the Prince of\nhis purpose, so that he said, \"Doth the trouble of my disease then\nhinder thee from taking me in thy ship?\"\n\nThen said the Prince, \"All is trouble when a man leaveth his nature to\ndo things that are not fitting.\"\n\nAnd Philoctetes made answer, \"Nay, is not this a fitting thing, seeing\nof what sire thou art the son, to help a brave man in his trouble?\"\n\n\"Can I endure to be so base,\" said the Prince, \"hiding that which I\nshould declare, and speaking the thing that is false?\" And while\nPhiloctetes still doubted whether he repented not of his purpose, he\ncried aloud, \"I will hide the thing no longer. Thou shalt sail with me\nto Troy.\"\n\n\"What sayest thou?\"\n\n\"I say that thou shalt be delivered from these pains, and shalt prevail\ntogether with me over the great city of Troy.\"\n\n\"What treachery is this? What hast thou done to me? Give me back the\nbow.\"\n\n\"Nay, that I cannot do, for I am under authority, and must needs obey.\"\n\nAnd when Philoctetes heard these words, he cried with a very piteous\nvoice, \"What a marvel of wickedness thou art that hast done this thing.\nArt thou not ashamed to work such wrong to a suppliant? Give me my bow,\nfor it is my life. But I speak in vain, for he goeth away and heedeth me\nnot. Hear me then, ye waters and cliffs, and ye beasts of the field, who\nhave been long time my wonted company, for I have none else to hearken\nto me. Hear what the son of Achilles hath done to me. For he sware that\nhe would carry me to my home, and lo! he taketh me to Troy. And he gave\nme the right hand of fellowship, and now he robbeth me of the bow, the\nsacred bow of Hercules. Nay--for I will make trial of him once\nmore--give back this thing to me and be thy true self. What sayest\nthou? Nothing? Then am I undone. O cavern of the rock wherein I have\ndwelt, behold how desolate I am! Nevermore shall I slay with my arrows\nbird of the air or beast of the field; but that which I hunted shall\npursue me, and that on which I fed shall devour me.\"\n\nAnd the Prince was cut to the heart when he heard these words, hating\nthe thing which he had done, and cursing the day on which he had come\nfrom Scyros to the plains of Troy. Then turning himself to the sailors,\nhe asked what he should do, and was even about to give back the bow,\nwhen Ulysses, who was close at hand, watching what should be done, ran\nforth crying that he should hold his hand.\n\nThen said Philoctetes, \"Is this Ulysses that I see? Then am I undone.\"\n\n\"'Tis even so: and as for what thou askest of this youth, that he should\ngive back the bow, he shall not do it; but rather thou shalt sail with\nus to Troy; and if thou art not willing, these that stand by shall take\nthee by force.\"\n\n\"Lord of fire, that rulest this land of Lemnos, hearest thou this?\"\n\n\"Nay, 'tis Zeus that is master here, and Zeus hath commanded this deed.\"\n\n\"What lies are these? Thou makest the Gods false as thyself.\"\n\n\"Not so. They are true and I also. But this journey thou must take.\"\n\n\"Methinks I am a slave, and not freeborn, that thou talkest thus.\"\n\n\"Thou art peer to the bravest, and with them shalt take the great city\nof Troy.\"\n\n\"Never; I had sooner cast myself down from this cliff.\"\n\nThen Ulysses cried to the men that they should lay hold on him; and this\nthey straightway did. Then Philoctetes in many words reproached him with\nall the wrongs that he had done; how at the first he had caused him to\nbe left on this island, and now had stolen his arms, not with his own\nhands, indeed, but with craft and deceit, serving himself of a simple\nyouth, who knew not but to do as he was bidden. And he prayed to the\nGods that they would avenge him on all that had done him wrong, and\nchiefly on this man Ulysses.\n\nThen Ulysses made reply, \"I can be all things as occasion serveth; such\nas thou sayest, if need be; and yet no man more pious if the time call\nfor goodness and justice. One thing only I must needs do, and that is to\nprevail. Yet here I will yield to thee. Thou wilt not go; so be it.\nLoose him! We need thee not, having these arms of thine. Teucer is with\nus, an archer not one whit less skilful than thou. And now I leave thee\nto this Lemnos of thine. May be this bow shall bring me the honour which\nthou refusest.\"\n\nWhen he had thus spoken he departed, and the Prince Neoptolemus with\nhim. Only the Prince gave permission to the sailors that they should\ntarry with the sick man till it was time to make ready for the voyage.\n\nThen Philoctetes bewailed himself, crying to his bow, \"O my bow, my\nbeloved, that they have wrested from my hands, surely, if thou knowest\naught, thou grievest to see that the man who was the comrade of Hercules\nwill never hold thee more, but that base hands will grasp thee, mixing\nthee with all manner of deceit.\" And then again he called to the birds\nof the air and the beasts of the field, that they should not fly from\nhim any more, seeing that he had now no help against them, but should\ncome and avenge themselves upon him and devour him. And still the\nsailors would have comforted him. Also they sought to persuade him that\nhe should listen to the chiefs; but he would not, crying that the\nlightning should smite him before he would go to Troy and help them that\nhad done him such wrong. And at the last he cried that they should give\nhim a spear or a sword, that he might be rid of his life.\n\nBut while they thus talked together, the Prince came back like one that\nis in haste, with Ulysses following him, who cried, \"Wherefore turnest\nthou back?\"\n\n\"To undo what I did amiss.\"\n\n\"How sayest thou? When didst thou thus?\"\n\n\"When I listened to thee, and used deceit to a brave man.\"\n\n\"What wilt thou then? (I fear me much what this fool may do.)\"\n\n\"I will give back this bow and these arrows to him from whom I took them\nby craft.\"\n\n\"That shalt thou not do.\"\n\n\"But who shall hinder me?\"\n\n\"That will I, and all the sons of the Greeks with me.\"\n\n\"This is idle talk for a wise man as thou art.\"\n\n\"Seest thou this sword whereto I lay my hand?\"\n\n\"If thou talkest of swords, thou shalt see right soon that I also have a\nsword.\"\n\n\"Well--I let thee alone. To the host will I tell this matter; they shall\njudge thee.\"\n\n\"Now thou speakest well; be ever as wise; so shalt thou keep thy foot\nout of trouble.\"\n\nThen the Prince called to Philoctetes, who, being loosed by the sailors,\nhad hidden himself in the cave, and asked of him again whether he were\nwilling to sail with him, or were resolved to abide in the island.\n\nAnd when the man had denied that he would go, and had begun again to\ncall down a curse on the sons of Atreus, and on Ulysses, and on the\nPrince himself, then the Prince bade him stay his speech, and gave him\nback the bow and the arrows.\n\nAnd when Ulysses, seeing this deed, was very wroth, and threatened\nvengeance, Philoctetes put an arrow to the string, and drew the bow to\nthe full, and would have shot at the man, but the Prince stayed his\nhand.\n\nAnd then again the Prince was urgent with him that he should cease from\nhis anger, and should sail with him to Troy, saying that there he should\nbe healed by the great physician, the son of Asclepius, and should also\nwin great glory by taking the city, and that right soon; for that the\nsoothsayer Helenus had declared that it was the will of the Gods that\nthe city of Troy should be taken that same summer.\n\nBut for all this he prevailed nothing; for Philoctetes was obstinate\nthat he would not go to Troy, nor do any pleasure to the chiefs who had\ndone him such wrong. But he would that the Prince should fulfil the\npromise which he had made, that he would carry him in his ship to his\nown country. And this the Prince said that he would do.\n\nAnd now the two were about to depart to the ship, when lo! there\nappeared in the air above their heads the great Hercules. Very wonderful\nwas he to behold, with bright raiment, and a great glory shining from\nhis face, even as the everlasting Gods beheld him with whom he dwelt in\nthe place of Olympus. And Hercules spake, saying--\n\n\"Go not yet, son of Poeas, before thou hearest what I shall say to\nthee. For 'tis Hercules whom thou seest and hearest; and I am come from\nmy dwelling in heaven to declare to thee the will of Zeus. Know then\nthat even as I attained to this blessedness after much toil, so shall it\nbe with thee. For thou shalt go to the land of Troy; and first thou\nshalt be healed of thy grievous sickness, and afterwards thou shalt slay\nParis with thine arrows, and shalt take the city of Troy, whereof thou\nshalt carry the spoils to thy home, even to Poeas thy father, having\nreceived from thy fellows the foremost prize for valour. But remember\nthat all that thou winnest in this warfare thou must take as an offering\nto my tomb. And to thee, son of Achilles, I say; thou canst not take the\ncity of Troy without this man, nor he without thee. Whereof, as two\nlions that consort together, guard ye each other. And I will send\nAsclepius to heal him of his sickness; for it is the will of the Gods\nthat Troy should yet again be taken by my bow. And remember this, when\nye lay waste the land, to have the Gods and that which belongeth to them\nin reverence.\"\n\nThen said Philoctetes, \"O my master, whom I have long desired to hear\nand see, I will do as thou sayest.\"\n\nAnd the Prince also gave his consent.\n\nThen Philoctetes bade farewell to the island in these words--\n\n  \"Home that hast watched with me, farewell!\n  And nymphs that haunt the springs or dwell\n  In seaward meadows, and the roar\n  Of waves that break upon the shore;\n  Where often, through the cavern's mouth,\n  The drifting of the rainy South\n  Hath coldly drenched me as I lay;\n  And Hermes' hill, whence many a day,\n  When anguish seized me, to my cry\n  Hoarse-sounding echo made reply.\n  O fountains of the land, and thou,\n  Pool of the Wolf, I leave you now;\n  Beyond all hope I leave thy strand,\n  O Lemnos, sea-encircled land!\n  Grant me with favouring winds to go\n  Whither the mighty Fates command,\n  And this dear company of friends,\n  And mastering Powers who shape our ends\n  To issues fairer than we know.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE DEATH OF AGAMEMNON.\n\n\nOn the roof of King Agamemnon's palace in Argos a watchman sat watching.\nSo had he sat night after night, through a whole year, nor was there one\nof the stars of heaven which he had not seen to rise and set. And as he\nwatched, his eyes were fixed ever on the north, looking for the signal\nof fire which should bring good tidings to the Queen and to all Argos.\nFor now the great city of Troy was tottering to its fall, and the ten\nyears' toil was coming to an end.\n\nAnd lo! even as it drew towards morning, there was a light in the sky\nthat was not the light of the sun, and the man cried aloud, \"Now blessed\nbe this light that I have watched for, seeing that it bringeth good\ntidings to this land. I will straightway to the Queen that she send the\nnews about the city. And may the Gods grant that I join hand to hand\nwith my master when he cometh back to his home, wherein if there be\naught that is ill-ordered, who am I that I should speak thereof? Let the\nwalls cry out, if they will, only I will keep silence.\"\n\nThen he made haste and told the Queen, who sent messengers throughout\nArgos, bidding that men should burn thank-offerings of incense on every\naltar. Also she would that the old men, who were the chiefs and\ncounsellors of the city, should be gathered together to the palace, that\nthey might know the truth of the matter. And while they waited for the\nQueen, they talked much of what had been in days gone by, in the\nbeginning of the ten years' war, when King Agamemnon, with King\nMenelaues, who was his brother, sailed from that very land of Argos,\nseeking vengeance for Queen Helen. And one said, \"Remember ye not what\nwe saw when the army set forth from the city? how upon the right hand as\nthey marched there appeared two eagles, one black altogether and the\nother with feathers of white in him, that devoured a hare big with young\nones? and how Calchas, the soothsayer, interpreted the thing, saying,\n'The eagles are the two kings; and as these have devoured the hare, so\nshall the kings devour the city of Troy together with her children! Only\nwe must needs pray that there come not wrath upon the army. For Queen\nArtemis loveth not these winged dogs of her father Zeus, even the\neagles. And if her anger be kindled against us, we shall not turn it\naway save by an evil sacrifice, from which also shall spring great wrath\nin the time to come. Therefore may Apollo help us, who is the healer of\nall evils,' So spake Calchas, the soothsayer, knowing indeed that Queen\nArtemis was wroth with King Agamemnon, for that he had hunted and slain,\neven in her own grove, a beautiful hart which she loved.\"\n\nThen said another of the elders, \"Nor indeed did the wrath of the\ngoddess tarry. For when the army was gathered together in Aulis she\ncaused that the winds blew ever from the north and hindered the ships\nfrom their voyage, so that the men were pinched with hunger and wasted\nwith disease. Then said Calchas, the soothsayer, 'This is the thing\nwhereof I spake: the goddess asketh the sacrifice that thou knowest\nof.' But when the kings heard this, they wept, and smote with their\nsceptres upon the ground. And King Agamemnon said, 'How shall I do this\nthing, and slay my own daughter, even Iphigenia, who is the joy and\nbeauty of my dwelling? Yet it were base to be false to them that have\ntrusted me to be their leader in this war. Therefore the Gods shall have\ntheir will.' Thus he hardened his heart to the evil work; nor did the\nchiefs have pity on her for all that she was young and fair exceedingly.\nSo when the priests had ended their prayers, her father bade the\nministers take her as she lay with her robes about her, and lift her up\non the altar, even as men lift a kid which they slay for sacrifice,\nputting a bridle upon her lips, that she should not cry aloud. Then she\nlet fall to the earth her saffron veil, being fair to see as a very\nlovely picture, and smote all that stood by with a look exceeding\npiteous: yea, and would fain have spoken to them, for often had they\nheard her voice when she sang in the guest-hall of her father. But of\nthe end what need to speak? Who knoweth it not? For indeed the counsels\nof Calchas were fulfilled.\"\n\nWhile they talked these things one to another the Queen Clytaemnestra\ncame forth from the palace, and they asked her, \"Hast thou heard good\nnews, O Queen, that thou biddest them burn incense on the altars?\"\n\n\"Good news, indeed,\" she said, \"for the Greeks have taken the great city\nof Troy.\"\n\nAnd when they doubted if this could be so, and would know when the thing\nhad happened, and how she had heard it so speedily, she set the matter\nforth to them, as the king had ordered it. \"For first,\" she said, \"they\nmade a great fire on Mount Ida, which is over Troy; and from Ida the\nlight passed to the island of Lemnos, and from Lemnos to the mountain of\nAthos. But Athos sent it on southward across the sea, on a path of gold\nlike the sunshine, even to Makistus in Euboea, and Makistus to\nMessapius, and Messapius, kindling a great pile of heath, sent it,\nbright as is the moon, across the plain of the Asopus to the cliffs of\nCithaeron. And from Cithaeron it travelled, brighter than before, by the\nlake Gorgopis to the hill of AEgiplanctus, which looketh down upon the\nSaronic gulf, and hence to Arachneues, which is hard by the city. Thus\nhath the King sent the tidings to me.\"\n\n\"Tell us more,\" said the old man, \"for we can scarcely believe this\nthing.\"\n\n\"Of a truth,\" said the Queen, \"this day the Greeks possess the city of\nTroy, wherein, I trow, are many things which ill agree. For women are\nmaking lamentation for husbands and brothers slain with the sword, while\nthe conquerors feast and live softly, being quit of hunger and cold and\nwatchings. Only let them do honour to the gods of the city, nor lay\nhands greedy of gain on that which is holy. So shall they have a safe\nreturn. But if they anger the Gods, haply there shall come upon them the\nvengeance of them that are slain.\"\n\nThen the Queen departed, and the old men spake again among themselves.\n\"Now are the sinners, the men of Troy, caught in the net of destruction!\nLong since did Zeus bend the bow and make it ready against the\ntransgressor, and now hath the arrow sped to the mark! Evil was the day\nwhen Paris shamed the table of his host, stealing the wife of his\nbosom! Evil the hour when she went, as one that goeth lightly and\ncarelessly, through the gates of Troy, and brought with her the dowry of\ndestruction and death. Sorrow she left behind her in her home; the\ndesolate couch and the empty hall, for here, the grace of the shapely\nstatues mocked her husband's grief with the stony stare of their\nloveless eyes, and there, but the empty joy remained that dwells in the\ndreams of the night. Aye! and a sorrow she left that was greater than\nthis. For the heroes went forth from the land of Greece, valiant and\nwise and true; and lo! all that Ares, the changer, but not of money,\nsendeth back is a handful of ashes shut in an urn of brass! Therefore\nthere is wrath in the city against the sons of Atreus, the leaders of\nthe host; nor does the vengeance of the Gods forget the shedder of\nblood.\"\n\nBut while they talked thus among themselves, some yet doubting whether\nthe thing were true, cried one of them, \"Now shall we know the certainty\nof this matter, for here cometh a herald with leaves of olive on his\nhead, and he hath dust on his garments and mire on his feet, as one who\ncometh from a journey.\"\n\nThen the herald, whose name was Talthybius, came to the place where they\nhad assembled, and when he had saluted Zeus and Apollo, whom, having\nbeen an enemy at Troy, he would fain have as friend, and Hermes, who was\nthe god of his heralds' craft he said, \"Know ye all that King Agamemnon\nhath come, having, by the help of Zeus, executed judgment to the full\nagainst Troy and her children, for the evil which they wrought against\nthe Gods and against this land.\"\n\nThen he told the elders what things they had suffered, first on sea,\nbeing crowded together on shipboard; and then on land, having their\nlodging near to the walls of their enemies, and under the open canopy of\nheaven, being drenched with rains and dews, and frozen with snows from\nMount Ida, and burnt with the sun in the windless days of summer. \"But\nnow,\" he said, \"these things are past and gone. And we will nail the\nspoils of Troy in the temples of the Gods, to be a memorial for them\nthat shall come after. But let the people rejoice, and praise their\nKing and his captains.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE EMPTY JOY THAT DWELLS IN THE DREAMS OF THE NIGHT.]\n\nThen came forth Queen Clytaemnestra, and said, \"Mark ye who doubted, how\nthat all things are even as I said. And now, herald, go tell thy lord\nthat I wait to receive him with all honour; wherefore let him come with\nwhat speed he may; so shall he find a faithful guardian in his house who\nhath kept true watch and ward over all that he left behind, for this is\nthe boast I make, both true and well beseeming a noble dame.\"\n\nThen said the chief of the elders, \"Listen to her, herald, for her words\nare fair. But tell me now, hath Menelaues had safe return?\"\n\n\"Would,\" said he, \"I had some better thing to tell! But what profiteth\nit to deceive? Truly, the man, together with his ship, is vanished out\nof our sight.\"\n\n\"Sailed he then before you?\" said the elder, \"or was he parted from you\nin a storm?\"\n\n\"Twas even so,\" answered the herald.\n\n\"And did men judge of him as living or dead?\"\n\n\"That, indeed, no man knoweth, but only the sun who seeth all things.\nBut hearken, I will declare the whole matter. There went out wrath from\nheaven against us. For after we had set sail, the waves rose high in the\nnight, and the fierce winds from the north dashed our ships one against\nanother, so that when the morning came, lo! the sea was covered with\nbodies of men and wrecks. But the ship of the King suffered not, for the\nhand of a god, I trow, and not of a man, held the helm. But be of good\ncheer. For doubtless they too think of us as of those that have\nperished, even as we of them. And as for Menelaues, be assured that he\nwill yet return, for the will of Zeus is not that this house should\nperish.\"\n\nThen said one of the old men, \"Rightly they named her Helen, for like\n_hell_ hath she devoured men and ships, aye, and this great city of\nTroy. I have heard tell how a man reared a lion's cub in his house. Very\npleasant was he at the first, for the children played with him, and he\nmade sport for the old; but when he grew he showed the temper of his\nrace, and filled the house with blood. Even so came Helen, smiling and\nfair, to Troy, and now behold the end! But here cometh King Agamemnon.\nLet us greet him in fitting fashion.\"\n\nAnd as he spake the King came near to the doors of the palace, sitting\nin a chariot drawn by mules; and by him sat Cassandra, who was daughter\nto King Priam, having been given to him by the princes when they divided\nthe spoil of Troy. And when the King had saluted the Gods, giving them\nthanks that they had helped him to take vengeance on the men of Troy,\nand had also set forth his purpose to order all things in a regular\nassembly if anything had been done amiss in his absence, there came\nforth the Queen to greet him, saying, \"I am not ashamed, men of Argos,\nto confess that with great gladness of heart I receive my husband. For\ntruly it is an evil lot for a woman when she sitteth alone in her house,\nhearing continually rumours and tidings of misfortune. Verily, had my\nlord here been wounded as oft as fame related this thing of him, these\nsame wounds had been more in number than the meshes of a net; and had he\ndied as often as men reported him dead, three bodies such as the story\ntelleth Geryon to have had, had not sufficed him. Hence it is, O King,\nthat our son Orestes is not here, for I sent him to Strophius the\nPhocian, who is, as thou knowest, an ancient friend of our house,\nfearing, if aught should befall thee at Troy, lest some tumult of the\npeople should work harm also unto him. Scant truly and light have been\nmy slumbers, and with many tears have I watched for thee. And now thou\nart come, what shall I say? Truly this man is to me as the strong pillar\nof a roof, as an only child to a father, as land seen beyond all hope by\nsailors, after much toil at sea, as a clear shining after storm, as a\nfountain springing forth to one that journeyeth in a thirsty land. And\nnow, my lord, I would that thou step from thy car, not setting thy foot\nupon the earth, seeing that it hath trampled upon the great city of\nTroy. Why linger ye, ye maids? Strew the pathway with carpeting of\npurple!\"\n\nAnd King Agamemnon made answer, \"Truly, daughter of Leda, thy speech\nhath been even as my absence, exceeding long. But why dost thou pamper\nme with luxury, or make my goings hateful to the Gods, strewing this\npurple under my feet? It is not well, me thinks, that a man should\ntrample on such wealth.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON]\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Queen, \"be content. Thinkest thou that Priam would not\nhave walked on purple if perchance he had been the conqueror?\"\n\nAnd after they had talked awhile, she prevailed, only the King bade them\nloose the sandals from under his feet, thinking it shame to waste the\nsubstance of his house. Also he gave commandment that they should deal\nvery kindly with the strange woman that had ridden with him in his\nchariot, for that the Gods have a favour unto them that use their\nvictory with mercy. And when he had said these things he went into the\npalace, the Queen leading the way.\n\nThen one of the elders said, \"There is a nameless fear in my heart; and\nwhen I should rejoice for the return of the King and the host, a voice\nof boding riseth to my lips. If a man be wealthy above measure, let him\nfling over-board a part, and so escape shipwreck of his house. But blood\nthat hath been spilt upon the earth, what charmer can bring back? Did\nnot Zeus slay the man who raised the dead? For a while 'twere best to be\nsilent.\"\n\nThen the Queen came forth from the palace, and bade Cassandra descend\nfrom the car and enter the gates. For why, she said, should she struggle\nagainst fate which made her to be a slave? Happy indeed was the lot\nwhich had brought her to a house of ancient wealth. 'Twas the newly rich\nthat used harshness to their slaves. But her persuasion availed nothing\nwith the maiden, for she sat and made no answer; and though the old men\njoined their counsel to the same end, she moved not nor spake. But when\nthe Queen was departed again into the palace, she began to cry aloud,\nlike unto one that was possessed, that there came a smell from the\nhouse, as the smell of a slaughter-house, and that she saw the shapes of\nchildren who had been cruelly murdered; and then, that another crime was\nnow about to be wrought, a bath made ready, and an entangling robe, and\na double-headed axe lifted to strike. And then she spake of herself,\nthat the doom was upon her, and that the King had brought her to die\nwith him, and that she should fall even as the city of her father had\nfallen. But after awhile her fury abated, and she began to speak\nplainly. And first she told the elders how it came to pass that she had\nthis gift of prophecy, that she could see what had been, as indeed she\nhad spoken of ancient wickedness that had been done in the house, and\nalso could tell beforehand what should come hereafter. For that Apollo\nhad loved her, and had given her this art; but, because she had deceived\nhim, he had added thereto this curse, that no one should believe her\neven speaking truth. And then she told them that the old crimes of the\nhouse should end in yet another crime; that there was one in the house,\na woman to look at, but in truth a very Scylla, a monster of the sea.\nAnd at the last she declared plainly that they should see the King\nAgamemnon lying dead. But the curse was upon her, and they believed her\nnot And then crying out that she saw a lioness that had taken a wolf to\nbe her paramour, she cast away the tokens of prophecy that she carried,\nthe staff from her hand, and the necklace from about her neck. And when\nshe had done this she went to the palace gates, knowing that she went to\nher death. But first she said that there should come an avenger who\nshould execute vengeance for his father that had been slain and also\nfor her. And when she was arrived at the door of the palace, at the\nfirst she started back, for the smell of blood smote her in the face;\nbut then she took heart again and passed on. Only first she turned and\nsaid, \"O Sun, whose light I see now for the last time, grant that the\nhand that taketh vengeance for the King may take it also for the\nslave-woman whom they slay--a conquest, in good sooth, right easy to be\nmade.\"\n\nBut while the old men doubted what these things might mean, saying that\nno man could trust in prosperous fortune, if the King, who had won such\na victory over the city of Troy, should himself perish, there came a\ndreadful voice from within, crying out, \"Woe is me! I am smitten with a\nmortal blow!\" And while they doubted, it came again, crying, \"Woe again!\nI am smitten with a second blow!\" Then they debated what were best to\ndo; and one would have them call to the citizens for help, and another\nthat they should rush into the palace; and some doubted whether aught\nmight now avail. And lo! the great doors of the palace were thrown back\nand there appeared a dreadful sight--two dead bodies, covered each with\na veil, and the Queen, with an axe in her hand, standing beside them,\nwho said--\n\n\"I spake before words fitting the time, and now I am not ashamed to\nspeak that which is contrary to them. For this is in truth an old\npurpose that I have executed. Yea, from the day that he shed the\ninnocent blood, even the blood of Iphigenia, my daughter, it hath been\nin my heart to slay him. I threw a net about him, whence there was no\nescape, entangling his limbs in a royal robe. Twice I smote him; twice\nhe groaned, stretching out his limbs in death; aye, and a third blow I\nadded--my offering of thanks to the Ruler of the dead. Right glad was I\nwhen the blood spirted on me; glad as the seed when the increase-giving\nrain cometh down from the sky.\"\n\nThen the old men, the counsellors of the city, cried shame upon her that\nshe had done so foul a deed, saying that the people should curse her and\ncast her out. But she was not one whit fearful or ashamed, saying that\nhe whom she had slain was a man of blood, and unfaithful, and that he\nhad suffered a just punishment together with his paramour. And when they\nmade lamentation over the King that he had been treacherously slain, she\nsaid, \"Think not that I am this dead man's wife, as indeed I seem to be;\nrather am I the avenger that executeth judgment for the ancient evils of\nthis house.\"\n\nAnd when they cried, \"O my King, who shall do thee due honour at thy\nburial, and speak thy praise, and weep for thee?\" she made reply,\n\"Trouble not yourselves with these things. As I slew him so will I bury\nhim. And though many tears follow him not from his house, yet doubtless\nwhen he cometh to the dwellings of the dead, Iphigenia, his daughter,\nwhom he loved, will meet him, and throw her arms about him, and kiss\nhim, so dear a father he was to her.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE MURDER OF AGAMEMNON.]\n\nAnd while they talked thus with each other, there came forward the\nPrince AEgisthus, with his guard about him, boasting that now the wrongs\nof his father Thyestes were avenged. Then again the strife of words grew\nfierce, for the counsellors reproached the Prince that he was\ntreacherous, having bound himself with a false woman against his lord\nthe King; and cowardly also and base, in that he had not dared to do\nthis deed himself, but had left it to the hands of another; also they\nprophesied that Orestes should come and execute the just judgment of the\nGods on them that had slain his father. And the Prince endured not to\nhear such words, but threatened bonds and imprisonment. So had strife\nnearly begun, for AEgisthus called to his guards, and the counsellors\nwould fain have roused the citizens, but the Queen, for indeed she would\nthat the shedding of blood should have an end, spake and soothed the\nanger of the Prince, saying, \"Heed not what these babblers say. Thou and\nI are rulers in this place, aye, and will order all things aright.\"\n\nSo the two lived together for a while in great pride and joy. But the\nblood cried against them from the ground, and the Gods forgat them not.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF ELECTRA, OR THE RETURN OF ORESTES.\n\n\nWhen King Agamemnon was slain by his wicked wife Clytaemnestra, the boy\nOrestes his son had perished also by the hands of his mother, but that\nhis sister Electra took him and delivered him out of the hands of them\nthat would have slain him. And having saved him, she sent him to the\nhouse of Strophius the Phocian, who was a friend to the house of the\nKing, her father. And here Orestes abode till he was of age and strength\nto fulfil the law. For the law of the land was that, if a man should be\nfoully slain, his son should avenge him on him that had done this wrong.\nAlso the youth sought counsel of Apollo at his oracle of Delphi, and the\ngod answered him that he should avenge the blood of his father even upon\nher that bare him. Therefore, being now grown to manhood, he came to\nthe city of Argos, having disguised himself that no man might know him.\nAnd he had with him Pylades that was the son of Strophius. Now these two\nloved each other exceedingly, so that men spake of them in after time as\nfamous among friends. Also there came with Orestes an old man, a slave\nthat had waited on him from a boy. Now the three had devised a story\nwherewith they might deceive the Queen and her husband; and being thus\nprepared they came into the city at dawn.\n\n[Illustration: ELECTRA AND ORESTES.]\n\nThen the old man spake, saying, \"Son of Agamemnon, thou seest the city\nwhich thou hast long desired to see. There is the grove of Io, whom the\ngad-fly drave over the earth, and there on the left hand the temple of\nHere, which all men know, and before us the palace of the children of\nPelops, a house of many woes, from which I carried thee forth in time\npast, when thy mother would have slain thee. But now we must take\ncounsel and that speedily, for the sun is risen and hath wakened the\nbirds, and we must be ready before that men come forth to their work.\"\n\nThen Orestes made reply, \"'Tis well said, old man. Hearken then to what\nI purpose. And first know that when I would hear from Apollo at his\noracle in Delphi how I should best avenge my father, he bade me trust\nneither in shield nor spear, but accomplish the deed by craft. Do thou\nthen go when occasion shall offer into the palace, and spy out the\nthings that are therein. For they will not know thee who thou art, so\nchanged art thou. And thou shalt tell them such a tale about me as shall\nsurely deceive them. And we meanwhile will do honor to the spirit of my\nfather at his grave, offering hair that has been shorn from my head and\ndrink offerings, and afterwards will return and accomplish what shall\nremain to be done.\"\n\nAnd when he had so spoken, he prayed, \"O my country and ye gods of the\nland, help me, and thou house of my father which I have come at the\nbidding of the Gods to cleanse from the guilt of blood.\"\n\nThen the old man said, \"I hear the voice of some one that groans.\" And\nOrestes made answer, \"Doubtless it is my sister Electra. Shall we stay\nand listen to her?\" \"Not so,\" said the old man, \"let us do our business\nwithout delay.\" So they departed.\n\nAnd then came forth Electra, making great lamentation for her father,\nand praying that the Gods would speedily send her brother Orestes to\navenge him. And with her was a company of the daughters of Argos, who\nsought to comfort her, saying that it was idle to make such weeping and\nmoaning for the dead; and that others also were in like case with her;\nand that she should have patience, for that time would bring punishment\non the evildoers. Also they would have her curb her tongue, seeing how\nshe angered those that had the rule in her house.\n\nAnd then Electra unfolded her grief to them saying, \"I pray you,\ndaughters of Argos, that ye think no evil of me as of one that\naltogether wanteth wisdom and patience. For what woman of the better\nsort would not do even as I? For think how I am constrained to live with\nthem that slew my father; and that every day I see this base AEgisthus\nsitting upon that which was his throne, and wearing the selfsame robes;\nand how he is husband to this mother of mine, if indeed she be a mother\nwho can stoop to such vileness. And know that every month on the day on\nwhich she slew my father she maketh festival and offereth sacrifice to\nthe Gods. And all this am I constrained to see, weeping in secret, for\nindeed it is not permitted to me publicly to show such sorrow as my\nheart desireth. Ofttimes indeed this woman mocketh me, and would know\nwhy I sorrow more than others, seeing that others also have lost their\nfathers. But sometimes, if it so chance that she hear from some one that\nOrestes prepareth to come back to this land, she is furious above\nmeasure, and rageth as a wild beast; and her husband, this coward that\nmaketh war against women, stirreth up her fury against me. And still do\nI look for Orestes when he shall come; but he tarrieth long, and in the\nmeantime I perish with sorrow and trouble.\"\n\nThen the daughters of Argos, when they had made inquiry and heard that\nAEgisthus was absent and that they could speak more freely of these\nmatters, would fain know whether she had heard news of her brother\nOrestes, and bade her be of good heart concerning him. But as they spake\ntogether, the sister of Electra, Chrysothemis, came forth with\nofferings for the tomb of her father in her hand, and other maidens\nfollowed her. Now these two were different one from the other, for\nElectra was full of courage, and would have no peace with those whom she\nhated, and sought not to hide what was in her heart, but Chrysothemis\nwas fearful, and would live peaceably with them that she loved not, and\nwould speak them fair. And now, when Electra saw her sister come forth,\nshe brake out against her with many angry words, saying that she did ill\nto choose the part of a mother who had done such wickedness, and to\nforget her father; and that it was a base thing in her to live softly\nand at ease, consorting with the evildoers.\n\nAnd when the Argive maidens would have made peace between them,\nChrysothemis answered, \"These words are not strange to me; nor should I\ntake note of them, but that I have heard of a great trouble that is\nready to fall upon my sister here, and stay her complaints even for\never.\"\n\n\"Nay, what is this?\" said Electra. \"Speakest thou of trouble greater\nthan that which I now endure?\"\n\n\"Surely,\" the other made reply, \"for they will send thee far hence, and\nshut thee up where thou shalt never more see the light of the sun, if\nthou stayest not these complaints.\"\n\nBut Electra did not fear one whit to hear these things, but waxed\nfiercer in her anger. And, after a while, as the strife ceased not\nbetween them, Chrysothemis would have gone on her way. And when Electra\nperceived this, she asked her for what purpose and whither she was\ncarrying these offerings to the dead.\n\nAnd Chrysothemis made reply that she was carrying them at the bidding of\nher mother to the tomb of King Agamemnon. For that the Queen was in much\nfear, having seen a vision in the night which had sorely troubled her;\nand that the vision was this. The King her husband, whom she slew,\nseemed to bear her company, even as he had done in time past. And he\ntook the sceptre which he had been wont to carry, and which AEgisthus\ncarried after him, and planted it in the earth; and there sprang from it\na very flourishing branch, by which the whole land of Mycenae was\novershadowed. \"So much,\" she said, \"I heard her say, when she told her\ndream to the light of the day; but more I know not, save that she\nsendeth me to make these offerings, by reason of her fear.\"\n\nThen Electra answered, \"Nay, my sister; lay not aught of these things\nupon our father's tomb, for they would be an abomination to him; but\nscatter them to the winds, or cover them with earth. So let them be kept\nfor her, when she shall die. And surely, but that she is the most\nshameless of women, she had not sought to pay this honour to him whom\nshe slew so foully. Thinketh she to atone in such sort for the blood\nthat she hath shed? Not so. Put these things away; but thou and I will\nlay upon this tomb hair from thy head and from mine; small gifts, in\ntruth, yet what we have. And do thou pray to our father that he will\nhelp us even where he dwelleth below the earth, and also that Orestes\nmay come speedily, and set his foot upon the necks of them that hate\nus.\"\n\nThis Chrysothemis promised that she would do, and so departed. And in a\nshort space came forth the Queen Clytaemnestra, and, finding her\ndaughter Electra without the gate of the palace, was very wroth, saying\nthat King AEgisthus had forbidden her to do this thing, and that it was\nnot well that, he being absent, she should take no account of her\nmother.\n\n\"But now,\" she said, \"let us reason together. Thou speakest ill of me,\nbecause I slew thy father. 'Tis even so. I deny it not. But mark,\nJustice slew him, not I only; and thou shouldest be on the side of\nJustice. He slew thy sister, sacrificing her to the Gods, as no other\nGreek had done. For what cause did he slay her? 'For the sake of the\nGreeks,' thou wilt say. But what had the Greeks to do with child of\nmine? Or was it for the sake of King Menelaues his brother? But had not\nMenelaues two children, and should not one of these have the rather died,\nseeing of what father and mother they came, even of those for whose sake\nthe Greeks waged this war? Had Death, thinkest thou, desire for my\nchildren rather than for his? Or had this accursed father no care for my\nchildren, but only for the children of his brother? Surely this was the\ndeed of a foolish and wicked man. Aye, I say it, whatever thou mayest\nthink, and so would say she who died, could she take voice and speak.\"\n\nThen said Electra, \"If thou permittest, I would say somewhat for him and\nfor her.\"\n\nAnd the Queen answered, \"Say on. Didst thou always speak in such mood,\nthou wert not so ill to hear.\"\n\nThen Electra spake: \"Thou sayest, 'I slew thy father,' 'Tis enough.\nWorse thou couldst not say, whether 'twere justly done or no. But of\njustice thou hadst never a thought. 'Twas the ill persuasion of him with\nwhom thou now consortest that urged thee to this deed. And as for my\nsister, thou knowest well that my father slew a stag in the grove of\nArtemis, and boasted himself of the deed, and that the goddess was wroth\nwith him, and hindered the voyage of the Greeks; and that for this cause\nmy father slew his daughter, knowing that otherwise the ships could sail\nneither to Troy nor homewards. Yea, he slew her, sorely against his\nwill, for the people's sake, and for nought else. But consider whether\nthis that thou sayest be not altogether a pretence. Art thou not wife\nto him that was thy fellow in this deed? Callest thou this taking\nvengeance for thy daughter that was slain? And thy children--art thou a\nmother to them? What ill do not I suffer at thy hand and the hand of thy\npartner? And Orestes, whom I barely saved from thy hand, liveth he not\nin exile? Surely, whatsoever it be that thou chargest against him, thou\nhast no cause to be ashamed of me.\"\n\nThen the two spake many bitter words to each other; and at the last,\nwhen Electra held her peace, the Queen prayed to the Gods, and made her\nofferings to the tomb. And first she addressed herself to Phoebus: \"O\nPhoebus, hear that which is in my heart; for to say the thing aloud I\ndare not, seeing that I am not among friends. But of the dreams that I\nsaw this night past, grant that the good be accomplished and the evil be\nturned away to my enemies; and that I be not cast down from the wealth\nwherein I now live; and that I may wield this sceptre of the son of\nAtreus which now I have, and may have the company of my friends, even as\nnow, and the love of my children, if so be that they love their\nmother.\"\n\nAnd while she thus spake, the old man came in, and would fain know\nwhether that which he saw was the palace of Atreus. And when he heard\nthat it was, he asked whether the lady whom he saw was the Queen. And\nhearing this also, he spake, \"Lady, I have good tidings for thee and\nKing AEgisthus.\"\n\n\"First tell me who thou art.\"\n\n\"I come from Phanoteus of Phocis: I bring great news.\"\n\n\"Tell me; for the man is a friend, and the tidings, I doubt not, good.\"\n\n\"I will say it in one word--Orestes is dead.\"\n\nAnd when Electra heard this, she brake forth into a great cry, saying\nthat she was undone. But the Queen said, \"What? What sayest thou? Heed\nnot this woman.\"\n\nAnd the man said, \"I told thee, and tell thee yet again, that Orestes is\ndead.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE CHARIOT RACE.]\n\nAnd again Electra brake forth into a cry; but the Queen bade her hold\nher peace, and would have the stranger tell the story. And the man\nsaid--\n\n\"He came to Delphi, whither the Greeks greatly resort, purposing to\ncontend in the games of the Pythian Apollo. And first there was a race\nof runners on foot; and for this he came forward, and passing all that\nran with him so won the prize. Nor indeed did I ever see such a man; for\nthere was not one contest in which he had not the pre-eminence. Very\nfair was he to look upon, and his name, he said, was Orestes of Argos,\nand he was the son of that Agamemnon who in days past was captain of the\nhost of the Greeks at Troy. But when the Gods are minded to destroy a\nman, who is so strong that he can escape? It fell out then that on the\nnext day at sunset there was proclaimed a race of chariots, to which\nthere came one man from Achaia, and from Sparta one, and two from Barca\nin Africa. After these came Orestes, being the fifth, with horses of\nThessaly. And the sixth was a man of AEtolia, with bay horses, and the\nseventh a man of Magnesia in Thessaly, and the eighth was a man of\nOenea, whose horses were white, and the ninth from Athens, a city\nwhich, they say, was builded of Gods, and a Boeotian was the tenth.\nFirst the heralds shook lots for each in a helmet, and each man had his\nplace according as his lot came forth. And after this the trumpet\nsounded, and the horses leapt forward, while the men shouted to them and\nshook the reins, and spared not the goad. Great was the noise, and the\ndust rose up like a cloud from the plain. And on the backs of the\ncharioteers and on the wheels of them that went before came the foam\nfrom the horses that followed, so close did they lie together. And\nOrestes, when he came to the pillar where the chariots turned, drave so\nthat his wheel wellnigh touched it, and slackened the rein for the right\nhorse, and pressed on that which was on the left. So far no mishap had\nbefallen the chariots, but all had fared well. But here the steeds of\nthe man of Oenea, being very hard to hold, brake from their course,\nand drave against the side of one of the chariots from Barca. And now\nthey had ended six courses, and were about to begin the seventh. But\nwith this beginning of trouble went all things wrong, for one drave\nagainst another till all the plain of Crissa was covered with broken\nchariots as the sea with shipwrecks. But the man of Athens was very\nskilful in driving, and, when he saw the beginning of confusion, he\ndrew his horses aside and held back, and so escaped without damage. Now\nOrestes was the hindermost of all, trusting to what he should do at the\nend; and when he saw that only the man of Athens was left, he shouted to\nhis horses and made haste to come up with him. Then the two drave\ntogether, having their chariots equal, and first one showed somewhat in\nthe front and then the other. And for eleven courses of the twelve all\nwent well with Orestes; but as he was rounding the pillar for the last\ntime, he loosed the left rein and knew not that he loosed it overmuch,\nand smote against the pillar and brake his axle in the midst, and so was\nthrown out of his chariot; but the reins were tangled about him and held\nhim. And all the people cried aloud when they saw the young man dragged\nover the plain. But at last they that had driven the other chariots\nhardly stayed the horses, and loosed him. Covered with blood was he and\nsorely mangled, that none could have known him. And we burnt his body;\nand certain Phocians, whom the Prince hath sent for this purpose, bring\nthat which remaineth of him, being but a few ashes in an urn of brass,\nfor all he was so tall and strong. This is a sad tale for thee to hear;\nbut for us who saw it never was anything in this world more grievous.\"\n\nThen the Queen said, \"Shall I say that this hath happened ill or well?\nor that it is an evil thing, yet profitable to me? Surely it is grievous\nthat I find safety in the death of my own kindred.\"\n\n\"What troubleth thee, lady, in these news?\" said the false messenger.\n\n\"'Tis a dreadful thing to be a mother. Whatever wrong she suffereth she\ncannot hurt him whom she bare.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said he, \"it seemeth that I have come in vain.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" the Queen made answer, \"if thou showest proof that Orestes is\ndead. For he hath long been a stranger to me, and when he departed hence\nhe knew me not, being very young; and of late, accusing me of the blood\nof his father, he hath made dreadful threats against me, so that I could\nnot sleep in peace day or night. And now this day I am quit of this fear\nthat wasted my very life.\"\n\nThen the Queen and the false messenger went into the palace; and when\nthey were gone Electra cried, saying, \"See here, forsooth, a mother that\nweepeth and mourneth for her son! O my Orestes, how utterly hast thou\nundone me! For now all the hope I had is gone that thou wouldst come and\navenge my father. Whither can I go, for thou and he are gone? Must I be\nas a slave among them that slew my father? This gate at least I will\nenter no more. If I weary them, let them slay me, if they will; I should\ncount it a grace so to die.\"\n\nAnd the maidens of Argos bewailed the dead brother with her. But in the\nmidst of their lamentations came Chrysothemis in great joy, saying, \"O\nmy sister, I bring thee good tidings that will give thee ease from thy\nsorrows!\"\n\n\"What ease, when they are past all remedy?\"\n\n\"Orestes is here. Know this as surely as thou now seest me before thee.\"\n\n\"Surely thou art mad, and laughest at thy woes and mine.\"\n\n\"Not so. By the hearth of my fathers I swear it. Orestes is here.\"\n\n\"Who told thee this tale that thou believest so strangely?\"\n\n\"'Tis from proofs that I saw with mine own eyes, and not another's, that\nI believe. Listen, therefore. When I came to the tomb of my father, I\nsaw on the top of the pillar offerings of milk that had been newly\npoured, and garlands of all manner of flowers. And marvelling much at\nthis, I looked to see if any man was at hand; and seeing none, I drew\nnear; and on the tomb I espied a lock of hair newly cut; and as soon as\nI espied it I knew that it was a token of Orestes, dearest of men in all\nthe world to thee and me. And as I touched it I held my tongue from all\nwords that might do hurt, and my eyes were filled with tears. And now\nthink whose should this be but his? Who should do this but thou or I;\nand I did not, nor thou, who canst not go so far from this house; and my\nmother is not wont to do such things. 'Tis Orestes surely. And now\nsorrow hath passed away, and all things will be well.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" Electra made answer, \"I pity thee for thy folly.'\n\n\"Do not my tidings please thee?\"\n\n\"I know not why thou talkest so wildly.\"\n\n\"But may I not believe that which I have seen with mine own eyes?\"\n\n\"O my sister, he is dead! Look not to him for help any more.\"\n\n\"But stay. From whom didst thou learn this?\"\n\n\"From one who was at hand when he perished.\"\n\n\"Where is he? This is passing strange. Whose then could be these\nofferings on the tomb?\"\n\n\"Some one hath put them for a remembrance of the dead Orestes.\"\n\n\"Woe is me, and I made haste with the good tidings, as I thought, and\nknew not what new trouble worse than the old had fallen upon us.\"\n\nThen said Electra, \"Hear now what I purpose. Thou knowest that we are\nutterly bereaved of friends, for Death hath devoured them all. Now,\nwhile Orestes yet lived and was prosperous, I hoped that he would come\nto avenge our father's death. But now that he is dead, I look to thee,\nthat thou shouldest make common cause with me and work this vengeance on\nthem that slew him. Canst thou endure that we should live deprived of\nthe wealth that was our father's; and also that we should grow old\nunmated? For know that a husband thou shalt never have, for indeed\nAEgisthus is not unwise that he should suffer children to be born of thee\nor me to be a manifest damage to himself. But if thou wilt hearken to\nme, first thou wilt do that which is fitting to thy father and brother\nthat are dead; and next thou wilt win great renown, and be married to a\nnoble mate, for all men are wont to regard that which is worthy. And\nsurely in days to come some man, citizen or stranger, that seeth us will\nsay, 'Look, my friends, at these sisters, for they wrought deliverance\nfor the house of their father, and spared not their own lives, but slew\ntheir enemies in the day of their prosperity. These must we love and\nreverence; these on feast days, and when the city is gathered together,\nmust we honour by reason of their courage.' Wherefore, my sister, be of\ngood heart. Be bold for thy father's sake and for thy brother's, for\nmine also and for thine, that we may be delivered from these troubles.\nFor to them of noble breeding to live basely is a shame.\"\n\nBut Chrysothemis made answer, \"O my sister, how didst thou find such\ndaring purpose as this, making ready thyself as for fight, and calling\nme to follow? Knowest thou not that thou art a woman and no man, and\nthat thou art weaker than thine enemies, and that their good luck ever\nincreaseth and ours groweth less and less? And what will it profit us if\nwe get great renown, yet die in shameful fashion? And yet to die I think\nnot such loss, but to wish to die and not attain to it, suffering\ntorture or bonds. Keep thy anger within bounds. What thou hast said I\nwill count as unsaid. Only yield to them that are stronger.\"\n\nAnd after many words, Electra urging her sister to this deed and the\nother excusing herself, the two parted in great anger. And Chrysothemis\nwent into the palace, but Electra abode where she was. And to her, after\na while, came Orestes, but disguised that no man might know him, and\nasked the Argive maidens that stood by, whether the house that he beheld\nwas the palace of King AEgisthus, and when he heard that it was so, he\nbade them tell the King that certain Phocian strangers were come seeking\nhim. But when Electra heard it, she said, \"Comest thou with proof of\nthis ill news that we have heard?\"\n\nAnd Orestes made answer, \"I know not what news thou speakest of, but the\nold man, Strophius, the Phocian, bade me bring tidings of Orestes.\"\n\n\"What are thy tidings, though I tremble to hear them?\"\n\n\"We are come bringing all that remaineth of him in this urn.\"\n\nAnd when Electra saw it she cried that they should give the urn into her\nhands; and Orestes bade them do so. And she took it and said, \"O\nOrestes, that wast dearer to me than all men else, how different is this\ncoming of thine to that which I had hoped! Lovely wert thou when I sent\nthee from this house, and now I hold thee in my hands and thou art\nnaught. Would to the Gods thou hadst died that day when thy father was\nslain; for now thou art dead, an exile, and in the land of strangers,\nand I paid thee no office of kindness nor took thy ashes from the\nfuneral fire; but this did strangers for thee, and now thou comest a\nhandful of ashes in a little urn. Woe is me for the wasted pains of\nnurture and the toil wherewith out of a willing heart I tended thee! For\nthy mother loved thee not more than I, nor was any one but I thy nurse.\nAnd now all this hath departed. My father is dead, and thou art dead,\nand my enemies laugh me to scorn, and thy mother that is no mother is\nmad with joy. Let me die with thee, for 'tis the dead alone whom I see\nto be quit of pain.\"\n\nBut while she so spake Orestes was much troubled in heart and knew not\nwhat to do. But at the last he said, \"Is this the Princess Electra whom\nI see?\"\n\nAnd she answered, \"Even so, and very ill she fareth.\"\n\nThen he looked upon her again and said to himself, \"What a noble lady is\nthis, and in what ungodly fashion hath she been afflicted!\"\n\nAnd when Electra would know why he was so troubled, he said, \"It paineth\nme to see thee excelling all women in sorrow.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" she said, \"thou seest but a small part of my sorrows.\"\n\n\"Hast thou, then, yet worse to bear than these?\"\n\n\"Yea, for I live with them that are murderers.\"\n\n\"Whom sayest thou they murdered?\"\n\n\"They murdered my father--and I am constrained to serve them.\"\n\n\"Who constraineth thee?\"\n\n\"A mother that is no mother.\"\n\n\"And is there none that can help thee?\"\n\n\"None, for him that was my helper thou bringest in this urn. But why\npitiest thou me as doth no other man? Art thou, perchance, a kinsman?\"\n\n\"Put down this urn and I will tell thee.\"\n\n\"Nay, stranger, take this not from me, for it holds all that is dearest\nto me.\"\n\n\"Speak not such idle words: thy sorrow is without cause.\"\n\n\"Sayest thou 'without cause' when my brother is dead?\"\n\n\"Thou dost ill to speak thus of thy brother.\"\n\n\"Doth the dead then think so lightly of me?\"\n\n\"No man thinketh lightly of thee; yet with these ashes thou hast no\nconcern.\"\n\n\"How so, if this is the body of my Orestes?\"\n\n\"Here is no true body, only one that is feigned.\"\n\n\"Unhappy man! where, then, is his tomb?\"\n\n\"He hath none--what need hath the living of a tomb?\"\n\n\"Liveth he, then?\"\n\n\"Yea, if I am alive.\"\n\n\"Art thou, then, he?\"\n\n\"Yea; look at this my father's seal, and say whether I speak truly.\"\n\nAnd when she saw the seal, she knew that it was her father's, and that\nthis stranger was indeed Orestes. And she cried aloud for joy, and\nembraced him. Then, after the two had talked together for a very brief\nspace, Orestes said, \"Tell me not how ill thy mother hath done, nor how\nAEgisthus hath wasted the substance of my house; but rather instruct me\nin this: shall I do this thing secretly or openly? Take heed also lest\nthy mother see thee bear a joyful face, and so take warning.\"\n\nAnd Electra made answer, \"As for this present, know that AEgisthus is\nabsent, and that the Queen is alone. Therefore do as thou deemest best.\nAnd as for me, be sure that I shall not cease from tears; for the old\nsorrow is inveterate in me; and also, now that I have seen thee, I weep\nfor joy.\"\n\nBut while they talked together came the old man in haste, and rebuked\nthem that they so spent the time; and to Orestes he said that no one\nknew him who he was, but that all deemed him dead, and that he must make\nhaste and do the deed; for that now the Queen was alone, nor was there\nany man in the palace.\n\nAnd Orestes, having prayed to the Gods, and especially to Apollo, who\nindeed had bidden him do this work, went into the palace. And at the\nfirst Electra went with him, but afterwards hastened out, to keep watch,\nlest perchance King AEgisthus should return. So she and the woman waited\nwithout and listened. And after a while there came a cry, \"O my son, my\nson, have pity on thy mother.\" And Electra said, \"Aye, but thou hadst no\npity on him, or on the father that begat him.\" And then again a cry,\n\"Woe is me! I am smitten.\" And Electra said, \"Smite, if thou canst, a\ndouble blow.\" And then the voice came a third time, \"I am smitten\nagain.\" But Electra made reply, \"Would that AEgisthus were smitten with\nthee!\" After this Orestes came forth, with his sword dripping with\nblood. And when the women asked him how it fared in the palace, he\nanswered, \"All is well, if only Apollo hath spoken the thing that is\ntrue.\"\n\nBut as he spake King AEgisthus came back, asking, \"Where be these\nstrangers from Phocis that are come, telling how Prince Orestes hath\ncome by his death in a chariot race?\"\n\nAnd Electra made answer that they were within. Then AEgisthus cried,\n\"Open the gates, and let all men of Argos and of Mycenae see the body;\nand if perchance any man hath been lifted up with vain hopes, let him\nlook upon Orestes that he is dead, and so submit himself to me.\"\n\nThen the gate was opened, and there appeared a dead body, lying covered\nwith a sheet. And AEgisthus said, \"Take the covering from off his face;\nfor he is my kinsman, and should not miss due mourning from me.\"\n\nBut Orestes answered, \"Take it thyself; for this dead body is thine, not\nmine.\"\n\nThen said AEgisthus, \"Thou speakest well: if the Queen be within the\npalace, bid her come.\"\n\nAnd Orestes said, \"She is near thee; look not elsewhere.\" And when\nAEgisthus lifted the covering, lo! it was the Queen who lay dead. Then he\nknew the whole matter, and turned to the stranger saying, \"Thou must be\nOrestes.\"\n\n\"'Tis even so,\" cried Orestes. \"And now go into the palace.\"\n\n\"But why slayest thou me in darkness, if this deed be just?\"\n\n\"I slay thee where thou didst slay him that is dead.\"\n\nSo he drave him before him into the palace, and slew him there. Thus the\nblood of King Agamemnon was avenged.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE FURIES, OR THE LOOSING OF ORESTES.\n\n\nThe gift of prophecy Earth had at the first, and after her Themis; and\nafter her Phoebe, who was of the race of the Titans, and Phoebe gave\nit to Apollo--who is also called Phoebus--at his birth. Now Apollo had\na great temple and famous upon the hill of Delphi, to which men were\nwont to resort from all the earth, seeking counsel and knowledge of the\nthings that should come to pass hereafter. And it came to pass on a day\nthat the priestess--for the temple was served by a woman, whom men\ncalled Pythia--when she went into the shrine, after her custom, in the\nmorning, saw therein a dreadful sight. For by the very seat of the God\nthere sat a man, a suppliant, whose hands were dripping with blood, and\nhe bare a bloody sword, and on his head there was a garland of olive\nleaves, cunningly twined with snow-white wool. And behind there sat a\nstrange company of women sleeping, if indeed they could be called women,\nthat were more hideous than the Gorgons, on which if a man looks he is\nturned to stone, or the Harpies, of which they say that they have the\nfaces of women and the bodies of vultures. Now this man was Orestes, and\nthe blood that was upon his hands was the blood of his mother\nClytaemnestra, whom he slew, taking vengeance for his father King\nAgamemnon, and the women were the Furies, who pursue them that shed the\nblood of kindred, and torment them even unto death. But the priestess\nwhen she saw this sight fell down for fear and crawled forth from the\ntemple. And when she was gone there appeared Apollo himself. Now Apollo\nhad counselled Orestes that he should slay his mother, and so avenge his\nfather's blood that had been shed. And now he spake, saying, \"Fear not,\nI will not betray thee, but will keep to thee to the end. But now thou\nmust flee from this place; and know that these, the hateful ones, with\nwhom neither God nor man nor beast consorts, will pursue thee both over\nthe sea and over the land; but do thou not grow weary or faint, but\nhaste to the city of Pallas, and sit in the temple of the goddess,\nthrowing thy arms about the image, and there will I contrive that which\nshall loose thee from this guilt.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE BIRTHDAY GIFTS OF PHOEBUS.]\n\nAnd when the God had said this, he bade his brother Hermes (for he also\nstood near) to guide the man by the way in which he should go.\n\nSo Orestes went his way. And straightway, when he was gone, rose up the\nspirit of Queen Clytaemnestra, clad in garments of black, and on her neck\nwas the wound where her son smote her. And the spirit spake to the\nFuries, for these were yet fast asleep, saying, \"Sleep ye? What profit\nis there in them that sleep? Shamefully do ye dishonour me among the\ndead; for they whom I slew reproach me, and my cause, though I was slain\nby my own son, no one taketh in hand. Do ye not mind with what\nsufferings, with what midnight sacrifices upon the hearth in old time I\nhonoured you, and now, while ye sleep, this wretch hath escaped from the\nnet.\"\n\n[Illustration: ORESTES SUPPLIANT TO APOLLO.]\n\nThen they began to stir and rouse themselves, the spirit still goading\nthem with angry words till they were now fully awake and ready to\npursue. Then there appeared the God Apollo with his silver bow in his\nhand, and cried, \"Depart from this place, ye accursed ones. Depart with\nall speed, lest an arrow leap forth from this string and smite you so\nthat ye vomit forth the blood of men that ye have drunk. This is no fit\nhalting-place for you; in the habitations of cruelty is your best abode,\nor in some lion's den, dripping with blood, not, verily, where men come\nto hear the oracles of truth. Depart ye, therefore, with all speed.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said they; \"hear, King Apollo, what we would say. For thou art\nverily guilty of this matter.\"\n\n\"How so? So much thou mayest say.\"\n\n\"Thou badest this stranger slay his mother.\"\n\n\"I bade him take vengeance for his father's blood.\"\n\n\"And thou wast ready to answer for this deed?\"\n\n\"I bade him come for succour to this shrine.\"\n\n\"Yet they who attend him please thee not?\"\n\n\"No, for it fitteth not that they should approach this place.\"\n\n\"Yet 'tis our appointed task to follow him that slayeth his mother.\"\n\n\"And what if a wife slay her husband?\"\n\n\"Between wife and husband there is no kindred blood.\"\n\n\"Thou dost dishonour, saying this, to great Here that is wife to Zeus,\nand to all love, than which there is nothing dearer to men.\"\n\n\"Yet will I hunt this man to the death, for the blood of his mother\ndrives me on.\"\n\n\"And I will help him and save him.\"\n\nBut in the meantime Orestes fled with all speed to the city of Athens,\nand came to the temple of Athene, and sat clasping the image of the\ngoddess, and cried to her that he was come at the bidding of Apollo, and\nwas ready to abide her judgment. But the Furies followed hard upon him,\nhaving tracked him as a dog tracks a fawn that hath been wounded, by the\nblood. And when they were come and had found him in the temple, they\ncried that it was of no avail that he sought the help of the Gods, for\nthat the blood of his mother that had been shed cried against him from\nthe ground, and that they would drink his blood, and waste him, and\ndrive him a living man among the dead, that all men might shun to do\nsuch deeds in time to come.\n\nThen said Orestes, \"I have learnt in many troubles both how to be silent\nand how to speak. And now I speak as a wise man biddeth me. For lo! the\nstain of blood that is upon my hand groweth pale, and the defilement is\ncleansed away. Therefore, I call to Athene that is Queen of this land,\nto help me, wherever she be; for though she be far, yet being a goddess,\nshe can hear my voice. And helping me, she shall gain me, and my people,\nand my land to be friends to her and to her people for ever.\"\n\nBut not the less did the Furies cry out against him that he was accursed\nand given over to them as a prey; for that they were appointed of the\nGods to execute vengeance upon evildoers, of whom he was the chief,\nseeing that he had slain the mother that bare him.\n\nBut while they thus cried out against him, there appeared the Goddess\nAthene, very fair to see, with the spear of gold in her hand; and she\nspake, saying, \"From the banks of Scamander am I come, for I heard the\ncry of one that called upon my name. And now I would fain know what\nmeaneth all this that I see. Who art thou, stranger, that sittest\nclasping this image? And who are ye that are so strange of aspect, being\nlike neither to the Gods nor to the daughters of men?\"\n\nThen the Furies made answer, \"We will tell thee the matter shortly,\ndaughter of Zeus. We are the children of Night, and we are called the\nCurses, and our office is to drive the murderer from his home.\"\n\nThen said the goddess, \"And whither do ye drive him?\"\n\n\"We drive him to the land where no joy abideth.\"\n\n\"And why do ye pursue this man?\"\n\n\"Because he dared to slay his mother.\"\n\n\"Did aught compel him to this deed?\"\n\n\"What should compel a man to such wickedness?\"\n\n\"There are two stories to be told, and I have heard but one.\"\n\nAnd when they had thus talked together for a while the Furies said that\nthey would abide by the judgment of the goddess. Whereupon she turned\nherself to Orestes, and bade him set forth his case; who he was, and\nwhat deed he had done. To which he made this answer: \"I am a man of\nArgos, and my sire, King Agamemnon, thou knowest well; for he was ruler\nof the host of the Greeks, and by his hands thou madest the great city\nof Troy to be no city. Now this man perished in a most unrighteous\nfashion, when he was returned to his home, for my mother, having an evil\nheart, slew him foully in the bath. And I, coming back to my country,\nfrom which in time past I had fled, slew her that bare me. This I deny\nnot. Yea, I slew her, taking vengeance for my father. And in this matter\nApollo hath a common share with me, for he said that great woes should\npierce my heart if I recompensed not them that had done this deed. But\ndo thou judge this matter; for with thy judgment, whatsoever it be, I\nwill be content.\"\n\nThen the goddess said, \"This is a hard matter to judge; for thou,\nOrestes, art come as a suppliant to this house, being innocent of\nguilt, and I may not reject thee. And yet these have a suit which may\nnot lightly be dismissed; for haply, if they fail of that which they\nseek, they will send a wasting disease upon this land and consume it.\nBut seeing that this great matter has fallen to me to deal with, I will\ndo this. Judges will I choose, binding them with an oath, and they shall\njudge in all cases, whensoever one man hath slain another. And this will\nI stablish for all time to come. Do you, therefore, call witnesses and\nproofs with oaths for confirmation thereof. And I will choose such as\nare worthiest among my citizens, righteous men, who will have regard\nunto their oath, and they shall judge this matter.\"\n\nSo they went all of them to the hill of Ares, where the cause should be\njudged. And twelve men that were worthiest in the city sat on the seat\nof judgment, and Athene came forth and said to the herald that stood by,\n\"Blow the trumpet, that the people keep silence, and that this cause may\nbe tried justly, as is meet.\"\n\nThen came forth Apollo. And when the Furies saw him they cried, \"What\nhast thou to do with this matter, King Apollo?\"\n\nAnd he said, \"As a witness am I come, for I commanded this man to do\nthis deed.\"\n\nThen Athene commanded that the Furies should speak the first, being the\naccusers. So they began saying to Orestes, \"Answer what we shall ask\nthee. Didst thou slay thy mother?\"\n\n\"I slew her. This I deny not.\"\n\n\"How didst thou slay her?\"\n\n\"I drew my sword, and smote her on the neck.\"\n\n\"Who counselled thee to this deed?\"\n\n\"Apollo counselled me; therefore I fear not; also my father shall help\nme from the tomb.\"\n\n\"Shall the dead help thee that didst slay thy mother?\"\n\n\"Yea, for she also had slain her husband. Say, why did ye not pursue her\nwhile she lived?\"\n\n\"Because she was not akin to him she slew.\"\n\n\"Not akin? then was I not akin to her. But do thou bear witness, King\nApollo.\"\n\nThen said Apollo, \"I am a prophet and lie not. Never have I spoken about\nman or woman or city save as my Father Zeus gave me to speak.\"\n\nThen said the Furies, \"How sayest thou? that Zeus gave this command\nthat this man should slay his mother?\"\n\n\"'Twas even so. For think how basely this woman slew her husband, his\nfather. For she smote him not with an arrow, as might some Amazon, but\nwhen he was come back from the war, full of honour, in the bath she\nentangled him, wrapping a robe about him, and so slew him. Wherefore\nthis man did righteously, taking vengeance for the blood that was shed.\nAnd as for this kinship that ye say is between a man and his mother,\nhearken to this. Had Pallas here a mother? Nay, for no womb bare her,\nseeing that she came from the head of Zeus her father.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE FURIES DEPARTING.]\n\nThen said Athene, \"It is enough. Judges, judge ye this cause, doing\njustice therein. But first hear the statute that I make establishing\nthis court. On this hill did the Amazons in old time build their\nfortress when they waged war with King Theseus and the men of this land;\nand hence it is called the hill of Ares, who is the god of war. And here\ndo I make this as an ordinance for ever, that it may be a bulwark to\nthis land; that judges may sit herein, keen to avenge the wrong, not\nblinding their eyes with gifts, but doing true judgment and justice\nbetween man and man. And now rise, ye judges, from your place, and take\nthese pebbles in your hand, and vote according to right, not forgetting\nyour oath.\"\n\nSo the judges rose up from their place and dropped the pebbles into the\nurns, Apollo on the one side and the Furies on the other urging them\nwith many promises and threats. And at the last Athene stood up and\nsaid, \"'Tis for me to give the casting vote; and I give it to Orestes.\nFor I myself was not born of a mother; wherefore I am on the father's\nside. And I care not to avenge the death of a woman that slew her\nhusband, the ruler of her house. Now, if the votes be equal, Orestes is\nfree. Take the pebbles from the urns, ye to whom this office is given.\nAnd see that ye do it justly and well, that no wrong be done.\"\n\nSo they that were appointed to this took the pebbles forth from the urns\nand counted them. And lo! the votes were equal on this side and on that.\nAnd Athene stood forth and said, \"The man is free.\"\n\nThus was accomplished the loosing of Orestes.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF IPHIGENIA AMONG THE TAURIANS.\n\n\nIt has been told in the story of King Agamemnon that the Goddess\nArtemis, being wroth with him because he had slain a hart which she\nloved, suffered not the ships of the Greeks to sail till he had offered\nhis daughter Iphigenia for a sacrifice. But when the King consented, and\nall things had been made ready for slaying the maiden, the goddess would\nnot that her blood should be shed, but put a fair hind in her place, and\ncarried away the maiden to the land of the Taurians, where she had a\ntemple and an altar. Now on this altar the King of the land was wont to\nsacrifice any stranger, being Greek by nation, who was driven by stress\nof weather to the place, for none went thither willingly. And the name\nof the King was Thoas, which signifieth in the Greek tongue, \"swift of\nfoot.\"\n\nNow when the maiden had been there many years she dreamed a dream. And\nin the dream she seemed to have departed from the land of the Taurians\nand to dwell in the city of Argos, wherein she had been born. And as she\nslept in the women's chamber there befell a great earthquake, and cast\nto the ground the palace of her fathers, so that there was left one\npillar only which stood upright. And as she looked on this pillar,\nyellow hair seemed to grow upon it as the hair of a man, and it spake\nwith a man's voice. And she did to it as she was wont to do to the\nstrangers that were sacrificed upon the altar, purifying it with water,\nand weeping the while. And the interpretation of the dream she judged to\nbe that her brother Orestes was dead, for that male children are the\npillars of a house, and that he only was left to the house of her\nfather.\n\nNow it chanced that at this same time Orestes, with Pylades that was his\nfriend, came in a ship to the land of the Taurians. And the cause of his\ncoming was this. After that he had slain his mother, taking vengeance\nfor the death of King Agamemnon his father, the Furies pursued him. Then\nApollo, who had commanded him to do this deed, bade him go to the land\nof Athens that he might be judged. And when he had been judged and\nloosed, yet the Furies left him not. Wherefore Apollo commanded that he\nshould sail for the land of the Taurians and carry there the image of\nArtemis and bring it to the land of the Athenians, and that after this\nhe should have rest. Now when the two were come to the place, they saw\nthe altar that it was red with the blood of them that had been slain\nthereon. And Orestes doubted how they might accomplish the things for\nthe which he was come, for the walls of the temple were high, and the\ngates not easy to be broken through. Therefore he would have fled to the\nship, but Pylades consented not, seeing that they were not wont to go\nback from that to which they had set their hand, but counselled that\nthey should hide themselves during the day in a cave that was hard by\nthe seashore, not near to the ship, lest search should be made for them,\nand that by night they should creep into the temple by a space that\nthere was between the pillars, and carry off the image, and so depart.\n\n[Illustration: ORESTES AND THE FURIES.]\n\nSo they hid themselves in a cavern by the sea. But it chanced that\ncertain herdsmen were feeding their oxen in pastures hard by the shore;\none of these, coming near to the cavern, spied the young men as they sat\ntherein, and stealing back to his fellows, said, \"See ye not them that\nsit yonder. Surely they are Gods;\" for they were exceeding tall and fair\nto look upon. And some began to pray to them, thinking that they might\nbe the Twin Brethren or of the sons of Nereus. But another laughed and\nsaid, \"Not so; these are shipwrecked men who hide themselves, knowing\nthat it is our custom to sacrifice strangers to our Gods.\" To him the\nothers gave consent, and said that they should take the men prisoners\nthat they might be sacrificed to the Gods.\n\nBut while they delayed Orestes ran forth from the cave, for the madness\nwas come upon him, crying out, \"Pylades, seest thou not that dragon from\nhell; and that who would kill me with the serpents of her mouth, and\nthis again that breatheth out fire, holding my mother in her arms to\ncast her upon me?\" And first he bellowed as a bull and then howled as a\ndog, for the Furies, he said, did so. But the herdsmen, when they saw\nthis, gathered together in great fear and sat down. But when Orestes\ndrew his sword and leapt, as a lion might leap, into the midst of the\nherd, slaying the beasts (for he thought in his madness that he was\ncontending with the Furies), then the herdsmen, blowing on shells,\ncalled to the people of the land; for they feared the young men, so\nstrong they seemed and valiant. And when no small number was gathered\ntogether, they began to cast stones and javelins at the two. And now the\nmadness of Orestes began to abate, and Pylades tended him carefully,\nwiping away the foam from his mouth, and holding his garments before him\nthat he should not be wounded by the stones. But when Orestes came to\nhimself, and beheld in what straits they were, he groaned aloud and\ncried, \"We must die, O Pylades, only let us die as befitteth brave men.\nDraw thy sword and follow me.\" And the people of the land dared not to\nstand before them; yet while some fled, others would cast stones at\nthem. For all that no man wounded them. But at the last, coming about\nthem with a great multitude, they smote the swords out of their hands\nwith stones, and so bound them and took them to King Thoas. And the King\ncommanded that they should be taken to the temple, that the priestess\nmight deal with them according to the custom of the place.\n\nSo they brought the young men bound to the temple. Now the name of the\none they knew, for they had heard his companion call to him, but the\nname of the other they knew not. And when Iphigenia saw them, she bade\nthe people loose their bonds, for that being holy to the goddess they\nwere free. And then--for she took the two for brothers--she asked them,\nsaying, \"Who is your mother, and your father, and your sister, if a\nsister you have? She will be bereaved of noble brothers this day. And\nwhence come ye?\"\n\nTo her Orestes answered, \"What meanest thou, lady, by lamenting in this\nfashion over us? I hold it folly in him who must die that he should\nbemoan himself. Pity us not; we know what manner of sacrifices ye have\nin this land.\"\n\n\"Tell me now, which of ye two is called Pylades?\"\n\n\"Not I, but this my companion.\"\n\n\"Of what city in the land of Greece are ye? And are ye brothers born of\none mother?\"\n\n\"Brothers we are, but in friendship, not in blood.\"\n\n\"And what is thy name?\"\n\n\"That I tell thee not. Thou hast power over my body, but not over my\nname.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou not tell me thy country?\"\n\nAnd when he told her that his country was Argos, she asked him many\nthings, as about Troy, and Helen, and Calchas the prophet, and Ulysses;\nand at last she said, \"And Achilles, son of Thetis of the sea, is he yet\nalive?\"\n\n\"He is dead, and his marriage that was made at Aulis is of no effect.\"\n\n\"A false marriage it was, as some know full well.\"\n\n\"Who art thou that inquirest thus about matters in Greece?\"\n\n[Illustration: IPHIGENIA AND ORESTES.]\n\n\"I am of the land of Greece, and was brought thence yet being a child.\nBut there was a certain Agamemnon, son of Atreus, what of him?\"\n\n\"I know not. Lady, leave all talk of him.\"\n\n\"Say not so; but do me a pleasure, and tell me.\"\n\n\"He is dead.\"\n\n\"Woe is me! How died he?\"\n\n\"What meaneth thy sorrow? Art thou of his kindred?\"\n\n\"'Tis a pity to think how great he was, and now he hath perished.\"\n\n\"He was slain in a most miserable fashion by a woman. But ask no more.\"\n\n\"Only this one thing. Is his wife yet alive?\"\n\n\"Nay; for the son whom she bare slew her, taking vengeance for his\nfather.\"\n\n\"A dreadful deed, but righteous withal.\"\n\n\"Righteous indeed he is, but the Gods love him not.\"\n\n\"And did the King leave any other child behind him?\"\n\n\"One daughter, Electra by name.\"\n\n\"And is his son yet alive?\"\n\n\"He is alive, but no man more miserable.\"\n\nNow when Iphigenia heard that he was alive, and knew that she had been\ndeceived by the dreams which she had dreamt, she conceived a thought in\nher heart, and said to Orestes, \"Hearken now, for I have somewhat to say\nto thee that shall bring profit both to thee and to me. Wilt thou, if I\nsave thee from this death, carry tidings of me to Argos to my friends,\nand bear a tablet from me to them? For such a tablet I have with me,\nwhich one who was brought captive to this place wrote for me, pitying\nme, for he knew that I caused not his death, but the law of the goddess\nin this place. Nor have I yet found a man who should carry this thing to\nArgos. But thou, I judge, art of noble birth, and knowest the city and\nthose with whom I would have communication. Take then this tablet, and\nthy life as a reward; and let this man be sacrificed to the goddess.\"\n\nThen Orestes made answer, \"Thou hast said well, lady, save in one thing\nonly. That this man should be sacrificed in my stead pleaseth me not at\nall. For I am he that brought this voyage to pass; and this man came\nwith me that he might help me in my troubles. Wherefore it would be a\ngrievous wrong that he should suffer in my stead and I escape. Give then\nthe tablet to him. He shall take it to the city of Argos, and thou shalt\nhave what thou wilt. But as for me, let them slay me, if they will.\"\n\n\"'Tis well spoken, young man. Thou art come, I know, of a noble stock.\nThe Gods grant that my brother--for I have a brother, though he be far\nhence--may be such as thou. It shall be as thou wilt. This man shall\ndepart with the tablet, and thou shalt die.\"\n\nThen Orestes would know the manner of the death by which he must die.\nAnd she told him that she slew not the victims with her own hand, but\nthat there were ministers in the temple appointed to this office, she\npreparing them for sacrifice beforehand. Also she said that his body\nwould be burned with fire.\n\nAnd when Orestes had wished that the hand of his sister might pay due\nhonour to him in his death, she said, \"This may not be, for she is far\naway from this strange land. But yet, seeing that thou art a man of\nArgos, I myself will adorn thy tomb, and pour oil of olives and honey on\nthy ashes.\" Then she departed, that she might fetch the tablet from her\ndwelling, bidding the attendants keep the young men fast, but without\nbonds.\n\nBut when she was gone, Orestes said to Pylades, \"Pylades, what thinkest\nthou? Who is this maiden? She had great knowledge of things in Troy and\nArgos, and of Calchas the wise soothsayer, and of Achilles and the rest.\nAnd she made lamentation over King Agamemnon. She must be of Argos.\"\n\nAnd Pylades answered, \"This I cannot say; all men have knowledge of what\nbefell the King. But hearken to this. It were shame to me to live if\nthou diest. I sailed with thee, and will die with thee. For otherwise\nmen will account lightly of me both in Argos and in Phocis, which is my\nown land, thinking that I betrayed thee, or basely slew thee, that I\nmight have thy kingdom, marrying thy sister, who shall inherit it in thy\nstead. Not so: I will die with thee, and my body shall be burnt together\nwith thine.\"\n\nBut Orestes answered, \"I must bear my own troubles. This indeed would be\na shameful thing, that when thou seekest to help me, I should destroy\nthee. But as for me, seeing how the Gods deal with me, it is well that I\nshould die. Thou, indeed, art happy, and thy house is blessed; but my\nhouse is accursed. Go, therefore, and my sister, whom I have given thee\nto wife, shall bear thee children, and the house of my father shall not\nperish. And I charge thee that when thou art safe returned to the city\nof Argos, thou do these things. First, thou shalt build a tomb for me,\nand my sister shall make an offering there of her hair and of her tears\nalso. And tell her that I died, slain by a woman of Argos, that offered\nme as an offering to her Gods; and I charge thee that thou leave not my\nsister, but be faithful to her. And now farewell, true friend and\ncompanion in my toils; for indeed I die, and Phoebus hath lied unto\nme, prophesying falsely.\"\n\nAnd Pylades sware to him that he would build him a tomb, and be a true\nhusband to his sister. After this Iphigenia came forth, holding a tablet\nin her hand. And she said, \"Here is the tablet of which I spake. But I\nfear lest he to whom I shall give it shall haply take no account of it\nwhen he is returned to the land Therefore I would fain bind him with an\noath that he will deliver it to them that should have it in the city of\nArgos.\" And Orestes consented, saying that she also should bind herself\nwith an oath that she would deliver one of the two from death. So she\nsware by Artemis that she would persuade the King, and deliver Pylades\nfrom death. And Pylades sware on his part by Zeus, the father of heaven,\nthat he would give the tablet to those whom it should concern. And\nhaving sworn it, he said, \"But what if a storm overtake me, and the\ntablet be lost, and I only be saved?\"\n\n\"I will tell thee what hath been written in the tablet; and if it\nperish, thou shalt tell them again; but if not, then thou shalt give it\nas I bid thee.\"\n\n\"And to whom shall I give it?\"\n\n\"Thou shalt give it to Orestes, son of Agamemnon. And that which is\nwritten therein is this: 'I THAT WAS SACRIFICED IN AULIS, EVEN\nIPHIGENIA, WHO AM ALIVE AND YET DEAD TO MY OWN PEOPLE, BID THEE--'\"\n\n[Illustration: OFFERINGS TO THE DEAD.]\n\nBut when Orestes heard this, he brake in, \"Where is this Iphigenia?\nHath the dead come back among the living?\"\n\n\"Thou seest her in me. But interrupt me not 'I BID THEE FETCH ME BEFORE\nI DIE TO ARGOS FROM A STRANGE LAND, TAKING ME FROM THE ALTAR THAT IS RED\nWITH THE BLOOD OF STRANGERS, WHEREAT I SERVE.' And if Orestes ask by\nwhat means I am alive, thou shalt say that Artemis put a hind in my\nstead, and that the priest, thinking that he smote me with the knife,\nslew the beast, and that the goddess brought me to this land.\"\n\nThen said Pylades, \"My oath is easy to keep. Orestes, take thou this\ntablet from thy sister.\"\n\nThen Orestes embraced his sister, crying--for she turned from him, not\nknowing what she should think--\"O my sister, turn not from me; for I am\nthy brother whom thou didst not think to see.\"\n\nAnd when she yet doubted, he told her of certain things by which she\nmight know him to be Orestes--how that she had woven a tapestry wherein\nwas set forth the strife between Atreus and Thyestes concerning the\ngolden lamb; and that she had given a lock of her hair at Aulis to be a\nmemorial of her; and that there was laid in her chamber at Argos the\nancient spear of Pelops, her father's grandsire, with which he slew\nOenomaues, and won Hippodamia to be his wife.\n\nAnd when she heard this, she knew that he was indeed Orestes, whom,\nbeing an infant and the latest born of his mother, she had in time past\nheld in her arms. But when the two had talked together for a space,\nrejoicing over each other, and telling the things that had befallen\nthem, Pylades said, \"Greetings of friends after long parting are well;\nbut we must needs consider how best we shall escape from this land of\nthe barbarians.\"\n\nBut Iphigenia answered, \"Yet nothing shall hinder me from knowing how\nfareth my sister Electra.\"\n\n\"She is married,\" said Orestes, \"to this Pylades, whom thou seest.\"\n\n\"And of what country is he, and who is his father?\"\n\n\"His father is Strophius the Phocian; and he is a kinsman, for his\nmother was the daughter of Atreus, and a friend also such as none other\nis to me.\"\n\nThen Orestes set forth to his sister the cause of his coming to the land\nof the Taurians. And he said, \"Now help me in this, my sister, that we\nmay bear away the image of the goddess; for so doing I shall be quit of\nmy madness, and thou wilt be brought to thy native country, and the\nhouse of thy father shall prosper. But if we do it not, then shall we\nperish altogether.\"\n\nAnd Iphigenia doubted much how this thing might be done. But at the last\nshe said, \"I have a device whereby I shall compass the matter. I will\nsay that thou art come hither, having murdered thy mother, and that thou\ncanst not be offered for a sacrifice till thou art purified with the\nwater of the sea. Also that thou hast touched the image, and that this\nalso must be purified in like manner. And the image I myself will bear\nto the sea; for, indeed, I only may touch it with my hands. And of this\nPylades also I will say that he is polluted in like manner with thee. So\nshall we three win our way to the ship. And that this be ready it will\nbe thy care to provide.\"\n\nAnd when she had so said, she prayed to Artemis: \"Great goddess, that\ndidst bring me safe in days past from Aulis, bring me now also, and\nthese that are with me, safe to the land of Greece, so that men may\ncount thy brother Apollo to be a true prophet. Nor shouldst thou be\nunwilling to depart from this barbarous land, and to dwell in the fair\ncity of Athens.\"\n\nAfter this came King Thoas, inquiring whether they had offered the\nstrangers for sacrifice, and had duly burnt their bodies with fire. To\nhim Iphigenia made answer, \"These were unclean sacrifices that thou\nbroughtest to me, O King.\"\n\n\"How didst thou learn this?\"\n\n\"The image of the goddess turned upon her place of her own accord, and\ncovered also her face with her hands.\"\n\n\"What wickedness, then, had these strangers wrought?\"\n\n\"They slew their mother, and had been banished therefore from the land\nof Greece.\"\n\n\"O monstrous! Such deeds we barbarians never do. And now what dost thou\npurpose?\"\n\n\"We must purify these strangers before we offer them for a sacrifice.\"\n\n\"With water from the river, or in the sea?\"\n\n\"In the sea. The sea cleanseth away all that is evil among men.\"\n\n\"Well, thou hast it here, by the very walls of the temple.\"\n\n\"Aye, but I must seek a place apart from men.\"\n\n\"So be it; go where thou wilt; I would not look on things forbidden.\"\n\n\"The image also must be purified.\"\n\n\"Surely, if the pollution from these murderers of their mother hath\ntouched it. This is well thought of in thee.\"\n\nThen she instructed the King that he should bring the strangers out of\nthe temple, having first bound them and veiled their heads. Also that\ncertain of his guards should go with her, but that all the people of the\ncity should be straitly commanded to stay within doors, that so they\nmight not be defiled; and that he himself should abide in the temple,\nand purify it with fire, covering his head with his garments when the\nstrangers should pass by.\n\n\"And be not troubled,\" she said, \"if I seem to be long doing these\nthings.\"\n\n\"Take what time thou wilt,\" he said \"so that thou do all things in\norder.\"\n\nSo certain of the King's guards brought the two young men from out of\nthe temple, and Iphigenia led them towards the place where the ship of\nOrestes lay at anchor. But when they were come near to the shore, she\nbade them halt nor come over near, for that she had that to do in which\nthey must have no part. And she took the chain wherewith the young men\nwere bound in her hands, and set up a strange song as of one that sought\nenchantments. And after that the guard sat where she bade them for a\nlong time, they began to fear lest the strangers should have slain the\npriestess, and so fled. Yet they moved not, fearing to see that which\nwas forbidden. But at the last with one consent they rose up. And when\nthey were come to the sea, they saw the ship trimmed to set forth, and\nfifty sailors on the benches having oars in their hands ready for\nrowing; and the two young men were standing unbound upon the shore near\nto the stern. And other sailors were dragging the ship by the cable to\nthe shore that the young men might embark. Then the guards laid hold of\nthe rudder, and sought to take it from his place, crying, \"Who are ye\nthat carry away priestesses and the images of our Gods?\" Then Orestes\nsaid, \"I am Orestes, and I carry away my sister.\" But the guards laid\nhold of Iphigenia; and when the sailors saw this they leapt from the\nship; and neither the one nor the other had swords in their hands, but\nthey fought with their fists and their feet also. And the sailors being\nstrong and skilful, the King's men were driven back sorely bruised and\nwounded. And when they fled to a bank that was hard by and cast stones\nat the ship, the archers standing on the stern shot at them with arrows.\nThen--for his sister feared to come further--Orestes leapt into the sea,\nand raised her upon his shoulder and so lifted her into the ship, and\nthe image of the goddess with her. And Pylades cried, \"Lay hold of your\noars, ye sailors, and smite the sea, for we have that for the which we\ncame to this land.\" So the sailors rowed with all their might; and while\nthe ship was in the harbour it went well with them, but when it was\ncome to the open sea a great wave took it, for a violent wind blew\nagainst it, and drave it backwards to the shore.\n\nAnd one of the guards when he saw this ran to King Thoas and told him,\nand the King made haste and sent messengers mounted upon horses, to call\nthe men of the land that they might do battle with Orestes and his\ncomrade. But while he was yet sending them there appeared in the air\nabove his head the Goddess Athene, who spake, saying, \"Cease, King\nThoas, from pursuing this man and his companions; for he hath come\nhither on this errand by the command of Apollo; and I have persuaded\nPoseidon that he make the sea smooth for him to depart.\"\n\nAnd King Thoas answered, \"It shall be as thou wilt, O goddess; and\nthough Orestes hath borne away his sister and the image, I dismiss my\nanger, for who can fight against the Gods?\"\n\nSo Orestes departed and came to his own country and dwelt in peace,\nbeing set free from his madness, according to the word of Apollo.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE PERSIANS, OR THE BATTLE OF SALAMIS.\n\n\nXerxes, King of Persia, made war against the men of Greece, being\ndesirous to have them for his servants. For being a man of a haughty\nsoul, he thought to make the whole world subject to him; and against the\nmen of Greece he had especial wrath, seeing that in the days of King\nDarius his father the Persians had fled before them. Wherefore he\ngathered together a great army from all parts of his dominions, every\ntribe and nation that there was in the whole land of the East, Indians,\nand Arabs, and such as dwelt in the plain country of Asia, having\nwaggons for their houses, and Egyptians, and men from the upper parts of\nLibya. But the chief strength of his army was of the Medes and Persians,\nthat were his own people. And for sailors he had Phoenicians, dwellers\nin Tyre and Sidon, and in the coasts thereof. Also many Greeks with\nhim, such as inhabited the cities of Asia that are near to the Greek\nsea, and the islands which are neighbours to them. But these loved him\nnot, hating to fight against their brethren, but were constrained to\njoin with him by fear. And when these were gathered together, being as\nthe sand that is on the seashore for multitude, he marched into the land\nof Greece; and the ships also, being in number a thousand and more,\nsailed along as near as might be to the army, that there might be no\nescape for the Greeks either by land or sea.\n\nBut when the King had been gone now many days, and there came no tidings\nof him and the army, the old men, counsellors and princes, to whom had\nbeen committed the care of the realm while he should be absent, were\ngathered together before the palace in Susa, the royal city. Not a\nlittle troubled were they in mind, for the whole strength of the land\nwas gone to the war. \"Invincible,\" they said, \"is the host of the\nPersians, and the people is valiant; but yet what man that is mortal can\nescape from the craft of the Gods, when they lure him to his ruin? Who\nis so nimble of foot that he can spring out of the net which they lay\nfor his feet? Now of old the Persians fought ever upon the land, but now\nhave they ventured where the waves of the sea grow white with the wind;\nand my heart is sore afraid, lest there come evil news that the city of\nSusa is emptied of her men. Then should there be heard great wailing of\nwomen; and the fine linen of the daughters of Persia, who even now sit\nat home alone, would be rent for grief. But come, let us sit and take\ncounsel together, for our need is sore, and reckon the chances which of\nthe two hath prevailed--the Persian bow or the spear of Greece.\"\n\nBut while they thus spake together there came forth to them from within\nthe palace Queen Atossa, borne in a litter. And the old men did\nobeisance to her, bowing their heads to the ground. (Now Queen Atossa\nhad been wife to Darius, and was the mother of King Xerxes.) And when\nthey had greeted her, she told them for what cause she had come forth\nfrom the palace, for that she feared greatly lest the wealth which King\nDarius had gathered together should be overset. \"For I know not,\" she\nsaid, \"which is the worse thing, store of wealth without manhood, or\nlack of riches to them that are strong.\"\n\nThen the old men bade her speak on, for that they would give her with\nall willingness such counsel as they could. After this the Queen set\nforth the matter to them, saying--\n\n\"I have been visited with many dreams and visions of the night since the\nday when King Xerxes my son departed hence with his army, purposing to\nsubdue the men of Greece; but never have I seen vision so clear as that\nwhich I beheld in this night that is last past. I saw two women clothed\nwith fair garments, the one being clad in Persian apparel, and the other\nin that which Grecian women used to wear. Very tall were they, above the\nstature of women in these days, and fair, so that no man might blame\ntheir beauty. Sisters also were they of the same race; but the one dwelt\nin the land of the Greeks, and the other in the land of Asia. Between\nthese two there arose a strife; and my son took and soothed them, and\nwould have yoked them to his chariot. Then she that wore the Persian\ngarb was quiet and obedient to the bit; but the other fought against\nhim, and tare with her hands the trappings of the chariot, and brake the\nyoke in the midst, so that my son fell upon the ground; and when he was\nfallen, lo! his father Darius stood over him, pitying him. This was my\ndream; and when I had risen and washed my hands in the running stream, I\nwent to the altar, that I might offer incense to the Gods that avert\nevil from men; and there I saw an eagle fleeing to the altar of\nPhoebus, and a kite pursued after him, and flew upon him, and tare his\nhead with his claws; nor did the eagle aught but yield himself up to his\nadversary. Now these are fearful things for me to see and also for you\nto hear. But remember that if my son shall prosper, all men will do him\nhonour; and if he shall fail, yet shall he give account to no man, but\nbe still ruler of this land.\"\n\nTo this the chief of the old men made answer, \"O lady, we would counsel\nthee first to ask the Gods that they turn away all evils, and bring to\npass all that is good; and next to make offerings to Earth and to the\ndead, and specially to thy husband King Darius, whom thou sawest in\nvisions of the night, that he may send blessings from below to thy son,\nand turn away all trouble into darkness and nothingness.\"\n\n\"This will I do,\" said the Queen, \"so soon as I shall have gone back to\nthe palace. But first I would hear certain things of you. Tell me, my\nfriends, in what land is this Athens of which they speak?\"\n\n\"It is far to the west,\" the old men made reply, \"towards the setting of\nthe sun.\"\n\n\"And why did my son seek to subdue this city?\"\n\n\"Because he knew that if he prevailed against it all Greece should be\nsubject unto him.\"\n\n\"Hath it, then, so many men that draw the sword?\"\n\n\"Such an army it hath as hath wrought great damage to the Medes.\"\n\n\"And hath it aught else, as wealth sufficient?\"\n\n\"There is a spring of silver, a treasure hid in their earth.\"\n\n\"Do the men make war with bows?\"\n\n[Illustration: ATOSSA'S DREAM.]\n\n\"Not so; they have spears for close fighting and shields.\"\n\n\"And who is master of their army?\"\n\n\"They are not slaves or subjects to any man.\"\n\n\"How, then, can they abide the onset of the Persians?\"\n\n\"Nay, but so well they abide it that they slew a great army of King\nDarius.\"\n\n\"What thou sayest is ill to hear for the mothers of them that are gone.\"\n\nAnd when the Queen had thus spoken, the counsellors espied a man of\nPersia running to them with all speed, and knew that he bare tidings\nfrom the hosts, whether good or evil. And when the man was come, he\ncried out, \"O land of Persia, abode of proud wealth, how are thy riches\ndestroyed, and the flower of thy strength perished! 'Tis an ill task to\nbring such tidings, yet I am constrained to tell all our trouble. O men\nof Persia, the whole army of our land hath perished.\"\n\nThen the old men cried out, bewailing themselves that they had lived to\nsee this day. And the messenger told them how he had himself seen this\ngreat trouble befall the Persians, and had not heard it from others, and\nthat it was at Salamis that the army had perished, and the city of\nAthens that had been chief among their enemies, the old men breaking in\nupon his story as he spake with their lamentations. But after a while\nthe Queen Atossa stood forward, saying, \"For a while I was dumb, for the\ntrouble that I heard suffered me not to speak. But we must bear what the\nGods send. Tell me, therefore, who is yet alive? and for whom must we\nmake lamentation?\"\n\n\"Know, O Queen,\" said the messenger, \"that thy son, King Xerxes, is yet\nalive.\"\n\nAnd the Queen cried, \"What thou sayest is as light after darkness to me;\nbut say on.\"\n\nAnd when the messenger had told the names of many chiefs that had\nperished, the Queen said, \"Come, let us hear the whole matter from the\nbeginning. How many in number were the ships of the Greeks that they\ndared to meet the Persians in battle array?\"\n\nThen the man made reply, \"In numbers, indeed, they might not compare\nwith us; for the Greeks had three hundred ships in all, and ten besides\nthat were chosen for their swiftness; but King Xerxes, as thou knowest,\nhad a thousand, and of ships excelling in speed two hundred and seven.\nOf a truth, we wanted not for strength; but some God hath destroyed our\nhost, weighing us against our enemies in deceitful balances.\"\n\nAnd the Queen made reply, \"'Tis even so: the Gods preserve the city of\nPallas.\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said the man, \"Athens is safe, though it be laid waste with fire;\nfor the city that hath true men hath a sure defence.\"\n\n\"But say,\" said the Queen, \"who began this battle of ships? Did the\nGreeks begin, or my son, trusting in the greatness of his host?\"\n\nThen the messenger answered, \"Some evil demon set on foot all this\ntrouble. For there came a man from the army of the Athenians to King\nXerxes, saying that when night should come the Greeks would not abide in\ntheir place, but, taking with haste to their ships, would fly as best\nthey could, and so save their lives. And he straightway, not knowing\nthat the man lied, and that the Gods were jealous of him, made a\nproclamation to all the captains. \"So soon as the sun be set upon the\nearth and the heavens dark, order your ships in three companies, and\nkeep the channels this way and that, and compass about the whole island\nof Salamis; for if by any means the Greeks escape, know that ye shall\npay your lives for their lives.\" This commandment did he give in his\npride, not knowing what should come to pass. Whereupon all the people in\ndue order made provision of meat and fitted their oars to the rowlocks;\nand when night was come, every man-at-arms embarked upon the ships. And\nthe word of the command passed from line to line, and they sailed each\nto his appointed place. They then watched the channels all the night,\nyet nowhere was there seen any stir among the Greeks as of men that\nwould fly by stealth. And when the fiery chariot of the Sun was seen in\nheaven, the Greeks set up with one accord a great shout, to which the\necho from the rocks of the island made reply; and the Persians were\ntroubled, knowing that they had been deceived, for the Greeks shouted\nnot as men that were afraid. And after this there came the voice of a\ntrumpet exceeding loud, and then, when the word was given, the dash of\nmany oars that struck the water together, and, clearly heard above all,\nthe sound of many voices, saying, 'RISE, CHILDREN OF THE GREEKS; SET\nFREE YOUR COUNTRY AND YOUR CHILDREN AND YOUR WIVES, AND THE HOUSES OF\nYOUR GODS, AND THE SEPULCHRES OF YOUR FOREFATHERS. NOW MUST YE FIGHT FOR\nALL THAT YE HOLD DEAR.' And from us there came a great tumult of Persian\nspeech, and the battle began, ship striking against ship. And a ship of\nthe Greeks led the way, breaking off all the forepart of a ship of\nPhoenicia. For a while, indeed, the Persian fleet bare up; but seeing\nthat there were many crowded together in narrow space, and that they\ncould not help one another, they began to smite their prows together,\nand to break the oars one of the other. And the ships of the Greeks in a\ncircle round about them drave against them right skilfully; and many\nhulls were overset, till a man could not see the sea, so full was it of\nwrecks and of bodies of dead men, with which also all the shores and\nrocks were filled. Then did all the fleet of the Persians take to flight\nwithout order, and our enemies with oars and pieces of wreck smote us,\nas men smite tunnies or a shoal of other fish; and there went up a\ndreadful cry, till the darkness fell and they ceased from pursuing. But\nall the evils that befell us I could not tell, no, not in ten days; only\nbe sure of this, that never before in one day died such a multitude of\nmen.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE HORSES OF THE MORNING.]\n\nThen the Queen said, \"'Tis surely a great sea of troubles that hath\nbroken upon our race.\"\n\nBut the messenger made reply, \"Listen yet again, for I have yet more to\ntell. There is an island over against Salamis, small, not easy of\napproach to ships. Hither the King, thy son, sent the chosen men of his\narmy, being in the vigour of their age, and noble of birth, and faithful\nto himself. For it was in his mind that they should slay such of the\nGreeks as should seek to save themselves out of the ships, and should\nhelp any of his own people that might be in need. But he judged ill of\nwhat should come to pass. For when the ships of the Greeks had prevailed\nas I have said, certain of their host clad themselves in arms, and\nleapt out of the ships on to the island, which they circled about so\nthat the Persians knew not whither they should turn. And many were\nsmitten down with stones, and many with arrows, till at the last the men\nof Greece, making an onslaught together, slew them with their swords so\nthat there was not a man left alive. Which thing when the King beheld,\nfor he sat on a hill nigh unto the shore of the sea, whence he could\nregard the whole army, he uttered a great cry, and rent his garments,\nand bade his army that was on the land fly with all speed.\"\n\nAnd when the Queen heard these things she said, \"O my son, ill hast thou\navenged thyself on this city of Athens! But tell me, messenger, what\nbefell them that escaped from the battle?\"\n\n\"As for the ships,\" he said; \"O Queen, such as perished not in the bay\nfled without order, the wind favouring them. But of the army many indeed\nperished of thirst in the land of Boeotia, and the rest departed with\nall speed through the land of Phocis and the coasts of Doris till we\ncame to the region of Thessaly, being in sore straits for food. And here\nalso many perished of hunger and thirst; but such as were left came\ninto the land of Macedonia, and thence to the coasts of Thrace, even to\nthe great river of Strymon. And there the Gods caused that there should\nbe a frost out of season, so that the river was covered with ice in one\nnight; which marvel when we beheld we worshipped the Gods, yea, such as\nhad said before in their hearts that there were no Gods. And when our\nprayers were ended we crossed over; and with such as crossed before the\nsun was risen high upon the earth, it was well; for as the day grew\ntowards noon, the ice was melted in the midst of the river, and the\npeople fell through, one upon the other, and perished miserably, so that\nhe might be counted happiest that died most speedily. But such as\nremained fled across the plains of Thrace with much toil and trouble,\nand are now come to our homes, being but a very few out of many.\"\n\nThen said the Queen, \"Truly my dream is fulfilled to the utmost. But now\nlet us do what we may. For the past no man may change; but for the\nfuture we may take thought. Wherefore I will offer incense to the Gods\nand to the dead; and do you take faithful counsel together, and if the\nKing my son should come before I be returned, comfort him and bring him\nto the palace, lest a yet worse thing befall us.\"\n\nThen the Queen departed; and the old men made lamentation for the dead,\nand bewailed themselves for the trouble that had befallen the land of\nPersia. But after a while she returned, walking on her feet and in sober\narray, for she would put away all pride and pomp, knowing that the Gods\nwere wroth with the land and its rulers. And she brought with her such\nthings as men are wont to offer to the dead--milk and honey, and pure\nwater from a fountain, and pure juice of a wild vine; also the fruit of\nthe olive, and garlands of flowers; and she bade the old men sing a hymn\nto the dead, and call up the spirit of King Darius, while she offered\nher offerings to them that bear rule in hell.\n\nSo the old men chanted their hymn. To Earth they cried and to Hermes\nthat they would send up the spirit of King Darius; also to the King\nhimself they cried, that he would come and give them counsel in their\nneed.\n\nAnd after a while the spirit of the King rose up from his sepulchre,\nhaving a royal crown upon his head, and a purple robe about him, and\nsandals of saffron upon his feet. And the spirit spake, saying, \"What\ntrouble is this that seemeth to have come upon the land? For my wife\nstandeth near to my tomb with offerings; and ye have called me with the\ncries that raise the dead. Of a truth this is a hard journey to take;\nfor they that bear rule below are more ready to take than to give back.\nYet am I come, for I have power among them. Yet hasten, for my time is\nshort. Tell me, what trouble hath come upon the land of Persia?\"\n\nBut the old men could not answer him for fear. Whereupon he turned him\nto the Queen, and said, \"My wife that was in time past, cease awhile\nfrom these lamentations and tell me what hath befallen this land.\"\n\nAnd when she had told him all, he said, \"Truly the Gods have brought\nspeedy fulfilment to the oracles, which I had hoped might yet be delayed\nfor many years. But what madness was this in Xerxes my son! Much do I\nfear lest our wealth be the prey of the spoiler.\"\n\nThen the Queen made reply, \"O my lord, Xerxes hath been taught by evil\ncounsellors; for they told him that thou didst win great wealth for thy\ncountry by thy spear, but that he sat idly at home; wherefore he planned\nthis thing that hath now had so ill an end.\"\n\nWith this the old men, taking heart, would know of the King what counsel\nhe gave them for the time to come. And he said, \"Take heed that ye make\nnot war again upon these men of Greece.\" And when they doubted whether\nthey might not yet prevail, he said, \"Listen, for ye know not yet all\nthat shall be. When the King, my son, departed, he took not with him his\nwhole army, but left behind him many chosen men of war in the land of\nBoeotia by the river AEsopus. And for these there is a grievous fate in\nstore. For they shall suffer punishment for all that they have done\nagainst Gods and men, seeing that they spared not the temples of the\nGods, but threw down their altars, and brake their images in pieces.\nWherefore they shall perish miserably, for the spear of the Greeks shall\nslay them in the land of Plataea. For the Gods will not that a man should\nhave thoughts that are above the measure of a man. Also full-flowered\ninsolence groweth to the fruit of destructions, and men reap from it a\nharvest of many tears. Do ye then bear Athens and the land of Greece in\nmind, and let no man, despising what is his and coveting another man's\ngoods, so bring great wealth to ruin. For Zeus is ever ready to punish\nthem that think more highly than they ought to think, and taketh a stern\naccount. Wherefore do ye instruct the King with counsels that he cease\nto sin against the Gods in the pride of his heart. And do thou that art\nhis mother go to thy house, and take from it such apparel as is seemly,\nand go to meet thy son, for the many rents that he hath made for grief\ngape in his garments about him. Comfort him also with gentle words; for\nI know that 'tis thy voice only that he will hear. And to you old men,\nfarewell; and live happily while ye may, for there is no profit of\nwealth in the grave whither ye go.\"\n\nAnd with these words the spirit of King Darius departed.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF ION.\n\n\nIn the temple of Apollo at Delphi there dwelt a fair youth, whose name\nwas Ion. Tall he was and comely, like to the son of a King, but of his\nbirth no man knew anything; for he had been laid, being yet a babe, at\nthe door of the temple, and the priestess had brought him up for her\nson. So he had served the God from a child, being fed from the altar and\nfrom the gifts of the strangers that were wont to resort to the place.\nNow it was the lad's custom to rise early in the morning and to sweep\nthe temple with boughs of bay, and to sprinkle it with water from the\nfountain of Castalia. Also he was wont to keep the birds from the\ntemple--for they would come from the woods of Parnassus hard by, eagles,\nand swans, and others--lest they should settle on the pinnacles or\ndefile the altar with their prey. And for this end he carried arrows\nand a bow, slaying the birds if need was, but rather seeking to frighten\nthem away, for he knew that some carried messages from the Gods to\nmortal men, and warned them of things to come, even as did Apollo that\nwas his master.\n\nNow it befell on a day, when he had done his office in the temple, that\nthere drew near to the doors a company of women. Maidens they were from\nthe land of Attica, and they had come with Creuesa, who was Queen of the\ncountry. And first they marvelled at the graved work that was on the\ndoors and in the porch, for some cunning workmen had wrought thereon\nHercules slaying the great dragon of Lerna, and Iolaues standing with a\ntorch to sear that which he cut with his knife. Also Bellerophon was to\nbe seen on a horse with wings, slaying the Chimaera; and Pallas fighting\nagainst the Sons of Earth, with the thunderbolt of her father Zeus and\nthe shield of the Gorgon head. And when they had made an end of seeing\nthese things came the Queen Creuesa herself and had speech with Ion. And\nshe told him that she was the daughter of Erechtheus, King of Athens,\nand that she was married to Xuthus, a Prince from the island of Pelops.\nAnd when Ion would know how it had come to pass that Xuthus, being a\nstranger and a foreigner, had received her that was a Princess of the\nland in marriage, she said that the Prince had fought for the men of\nAthens against the land of Euboea, and had subdued it, and so had won\nfor himself this reward. Also when the youth would know for what end she\nhad come to the oracles of Delphi, she said that she had come because\nhaving been long married she was yet childless, and that her husband\nalso was with her, and that he was even then making inquiry about this\nsame matter in the cave of Trophonius. For there also was an oracle\ngiving answers to men about things to come. Then the Queen asked Ion of\nhis estate, and heard from him that the priestess of Apollo had brought\nhim up, having found him laid at the door of the temple.\n\nAfter these things came King Xuthus himself, who, after he had greeted\nthe Queen, said that Trophonius would not indeed go before the answer of\nApollo, yet promised this, that he should not go to his home childless.\nSo the two went together into the shrine that they might inquire yet\nfurther of the matter; and Ion abode without, meditating much on the\nthings which these strangers had said.\n\nBut after a while the King came forth in great joy, and when he saw the\nyouth Ion standing without the shrine, he caught him by the hand, and\nwould have thrown his arms about him, but the youth drew back, thinking\nthat the God had smitten him with madness, and even would have drawn his\nbow against him. Then the King set forth to him the answer that Apollo\nhad given him. For the God had said, \"Thou art not childless as thou\nthinkest, but the father of a fair son. And thy son is he whom first\nthou shalt meet going forth from my shrine.\" \"And now,\" said the King,\n\"thou art he whom first I meet coming forth, and I claim thee to be my\nson.\" And when Ion would know how this might be, the King said that in\ndays past, before he had married the Princess Creuesa, being young and\nfoolish, he had taken to wife a maiden of low degree in this very city\nof Delphi, and that if she had borne him a son--for that he knew not,\nhaving left her long since--the child would bear such age as Ion. And\nwhen Ion heard this he was glad, for he had feared lest haply he should\nbe found to be the son of some slave. Only he said to himself, \"O my\ndear mother, shall I ever see thee? For now do I long more than ever to\nlook upon thee; but haply thou art dead and this may never be.\"\n\nAnd the maidens of Athens standing by heard the talk between the two,\nand said, \"It is well for the people that the royal house should\nprosper. Yet it had pleased us well that our lady the Queen should have\nhope of offspring, and that the house of Erechtheus should not be left\nwithout an heir.\"\n\nThen said the King to Ion, \"My son, it is well both with thee and me,\nfor I have found that which I most desired and thou also. And as to that\nwhich thou now sayest about thy mother, haply, if only we have patience,\nthis also shall be as thou wouldst have it. But now I would have thee\nleave the temple of Apollo and this thy subsistence of alms, and come\nwith me to the great city of Athens, where thou shalt have great wealth,\nand in due time this sceptre that I hold. But why art thou silent and\ncastest thine eyes to the ground? Suddenly art thou changed from joy to\nsorrow, and the heart of thy father misgiveth him.\"\n\nThen spoke Ion, saying, \"My father, the aspect of many things changeth\naccording as a man seeth them, whether it be near or afar off. Right\nglad was I to find a father in thee; but as to what else thou sayest,\nhearken to me. Men say that the Athenians are a people that have dwelt\nin the land from the beginning. Wherefore I shall have among them a\ndouble reproach, being both basely born and also a foreigner. And if I\ncome to high place in the state, they that are beneath me shall hate me,\nseeing that men love not those that are above them. Also those that are\nof high account among the citizens shall have much jealousy against me,\nfor such men have ever great enmity against their rivals. Think also of\nthy house, how matters shall stand there. For before, thy wife the Queen\nshared with thee this reproach of childlessness, but now will she stand\nalone and bear her sorrow by herself. How then shall she not hate me\nwhen she seeth me at thy right hand? And so shalt thou either for love\nof her go back from what thou hast promised to me, or else, seeking my\nprofit, shalt trouble thine own house. For thou knowest what deadly\ndeeds with the sword and with poison women holding themselves to be\nwronged have wrought against their husbands. And of a truth, my father,\nI hold that thy wife, seeing that she groweth old without hope of\nchildren, is most miserable among women. And then as to kingship, I\ncount that this is more pleasant to regard from afar than to possess;\nfor how can he be happy who liveth in daily fear of death? And if thou\nsayest that great store of wealth out-weigheth all other things, and\nthat it is pleasant to be rich, I hold otherwise. I would have neither\npoverty nor riches, but to live quietly and without trouble. For listen,\nmy father, to the good things that I have had in this place--that which\nall men count dear, even leisure; and such labour as I did, not\ntoilsome, and to be free from all ill company, and to be constant in\nprayers to the Gods, or in talk with men, ever consorting with new\ncompany among such as came to inquire of the god. Surely, my father,\nthis life is better than that which thou promisest to me.\"\n\n\"My son,\" the King made answer, \"learn to take the good which the Gods\nhave provided for thee. First, then, I will bring thee to the feast\nwhich I purpose to hold in this place as though thou wert a stranger.\nAnd afterwards I will take thee to the city of Athens, yet not declaring\nat the first thy birth, for I would not vex my wife with my good luck,\nseeing that she is yet childless. Only in time I will work with her that\nthou shalt bear rule in the land with her good will. And now call such\nof thy friends as thou wilt to the feast, for thou must even bid\nfarewell to this city of Delphi.\"\n\nAnd Ion made answer, \"Let it be so; only if I find not my mother, my\nlife is nothing worth.\"\n\nAnd to the maidens the King said, \"Take heed that ye keep silence on\nthese matters, or ye shall surely die.\"\n\nBut they were much troubled in heart for their mistress that she should\nbe childless, while the King her husband had found a son. Also they\ndoubted much whether they should not tell the Queen the things which\nthey had heard.\n\nAnd now there was seen to come near to the shrine an old man who had in\ndays past been servant to King Erechtheus; and when the Queen saw him,\nshe reached her hand to him, and helped him to climb the steps of the\ntemple, for he was very feeble with age. And when he was come to the\ntop, the Queen turned her to the maidens that stood by and inquired of\nthem whether they knew aught of the answer which the God had given to\nher husband in the matter of his childlessness. But they were loath to\nmake answer, remembering that the King had bidden them to be silent\nunder pain of death; but at the last, for the thing pleased them not,\nboth for pity of their mistress and also for hatred that a stranger\nshould be King in Athens, they said, \"O lady, thou must never hold a\nchild in thy arms or nurse a babe at thy breast.\" And when the old man\nasked--for the Queen was distraught with grief--whether the King also\nshared this trouble, they said, \"Not so, old man; to him Apollo giveth a\nson.\"\n\n\"How so?\" said he; \"is this son yet to be born, or doth he live\nalready?\"\n\n\"He is a youth full grown. For the God said, 'He whom thou shalt first\nmeet, coming forth from this shrine, is thy son.' And know, lady, that\nthis youth is he who is wont to serve in this shrine, with whom thou\ntalkedst at the first. But more than this I know not; only that thy\nhusband is gone without thy knowledge to hold a great feast, and that\nthe lad sitteth thereat in much honour.\"\n\nAnd when the old man heard these things he waxed wroth and said, \"Lady,\nthere is treachery in this matter. We are betrayed by thy husband, and\nof fixed purpose set at naught, that he may drive us out of the house of\nthy father, King Erechtheus. And this I say not because I hate thy\nhusband, but that I love thee more. Hearken, then, to my words. He came\na stranger to the city of Athens, and took thee to wife, and had with\nthee the inheritance of thy father's kingdom; and when he found thee\nchildless, he was not content to bear this reproach with thee, but\nwedded secretly some slave woman, and gave the child whom she bare to\nhim to some citizen of Delphi to rear for him. And the child grew up, as\nthou knowest, a minister in the temple of Apollo. And when thy husband\nknew that he was come to full age he devised this device that thou and\nhe should come to this place, and make inquiry of the god, whether there\nmight be any remedy for thy childlessness. And now thou wilt suffer the\nfoulest wrong, for he will bring this son of a bondwoman to be lord in\nthy house. Wherefore I give thee this counsel. Devise some device, and\nbe it with the sword or with poison, or with whatever thou wilt, slay\nthy husband and his son, or they shall surely slay thee. For if thou\nspare them thou wilt surely die. For if there be two enemies under one\nroof, it must needs be that the one perish. And now, if thou wilt, I\nwill do this deed for thee, and slay them at the feast which he\nprepareth; for I have had sustenance in the house of thy father to this\nday, for which I would fain make this return.\"\n\nThen the Queen and the old man talked together about the matter. And\nwhen he would have had her slay her husband, she refused, saying that\nshe could not do the deed, for that she thought of the time when he was\nfaithful and loving to her. But when he would have her execute vengeance\non the youth, she consented. Only she doubted how this might be done.\nThen the old man cried, \"Arm thine attendants with the sword and slay\nhim.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the Queen, \"and I would lead them myself; but where shall I\nslay him?\"\n\n\"Slay him,\" said the old man, \"in the tent where he feasteth his\nfriends.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" answered the Queen, \"the deed would be too manifest; the hands\nalso of slaves are ever feeble.\"\n\nThen the old man cried in a rage, \"I see thou playest the coward. Take\ncounsel for thyself.\"\n\nThen said the Queen, \"I have a plan in my heart that is both crafty and\nsure. Listen now, and I will unfold it to thee. Thou knowest how in time\npast the Giants that were the sons of Earth made war against the Gods in\nthe plain of Phlegra; and that Earth, seeking to help her children,\nbrought forth the Gorgon; and that Pallas, the daughter of Zeus, slew\nthe monster. Know then that Pallas gave to Ericthonius, who was the\nfirst King of the land of Attica, being sprung from the earth, two drops\nof the blood of the Gorgon, whereof the one hath the power to kill\nwhomsoever it shall touch, and the other to heal all manner of\ndiseases. And these she shut in gold to keep them; and Ericthonius gave\nthem to King Erechtheus my father, and he, when he died, gave them to\nme. And I carry them in a bracelet on my wrist. And thou shalt take the\none that worketh death, and with it thou shalt slay this youth.\"\n\n\"'Tis well thought,\" the old man made answer; \"but where shall I do the\ndeed?\"\n\n\"In Athens,\" said the Queen, \"when he shall have come to my house.\"\n\nBut the old man said, \"That is not well; for thou wilt have the repute\nof the deed, even if thou slay him not. Slay him rather in this place,\nwhere thou shalt be more likely to deceive thy husband, for it must not\nbe that he know it.\"\n\nWhen the Queen heard this she said, \"Hear, then, what thou must do. Go\nto the place where my husband maketh a sacrifice and a feast following.\nAnd when the guests are even now ready to cease from their feasting and\nmake libations to the Gods, drop his drop of death into the cup of him\nwho would lord it over my house. Of a surety if it pass his throat he\nshall never come to the city of Athens.\"\n\nSo the old man went on his errand, and as he went he said to himself,\n\"Old foot of mine, do this thy business as though thou wert young. Thou\nhast to help the house of thy master against an enemy. Let them that are\nhappy talk of piety; he that would work his adversary woe must take no\naccount of laws.\"\n\nBut meanwhile Xuthus had bidden the youth Ion have a care for the feast,\nfor that he himself had yet sacrifice to make, at which he might haply\ntarry long time. Wherefore Ion set up a great tent on poles, looking\nneither wholly to the south nor to the west, but between the two. And\nthe tent he made foursquare, being of a hundred feet each way, for he\npurposed to call the whole people of Delphi to the feast. Then he took\ncurtains from the treasure-house to cover it within, very marvellous to\nbehold; for on them was wrought the Heaven with all the gathering of the\nstars, and the Sun driving his chariot to the west, and dark-robed\nNight, with the stars following her, the Pleiades, and Orion with his\nsword, and the Bear turning about the Pole, and the bright circle of the\nMoon; and on the other side the Morning chasing the stars. Also there\nwere tapestries from foreign land, ships fighting with ships, and\nstrange shapes, half men half beasts, and the hunting of stags and\nlions.\n\nBut in the midst of the tent great bowls were set for wine; and a herald\nbade all the men of Delphi to the feast. But when they had had enough of\neating and drinking, the old man, the servant of the Queen, came\nforward; and all men laughed to see him how busy he was. For he took the\nwater that should have been mixed with the wine and used it for the\nwashing of hands, and burnt the incense, and took upon himself the\nordering of the cups. And after a while he said, \"Take away those cups,\nand bring greater that we may be merry.\" So they brought great cups of\ngold and silver. And the old man took one that was more beautiful than\nthe rest, and filled it to the brim and gave it to the youth Ion, as\nthough he would do him great honour; but he dropped into it the deadly\ndrop. Only no man saw the thing that he did. But when they were all\nabout to drink, some one spake an evil word to his neighbour, and Ion\nheard it, and having full knowledge of augury, held it to be of ill\nomen, and bade them fill another bowl; and that every one should pour\nout upon the ground that which was in his cup. And on this there came\ndown a flight of doves, for such dwelt in the temple of Apollo without\nfear, and sipped of the wine that had been poured forth. And all the\nrest drank and suffered no harm; but that which had settled where the\nyouth Ion had poured out from his cup shook and reeled and screamed\naloud, and so died, being sorely rent with the pangs of death. And when\nthe youth saw this he cried, \"Who is it that hath plotted my death? Tell\nme, old man, for thou gavest me the cup.\" And he leapt over the table\nand laid hands on him. And at last the old man, being sorely pressed,\nunfolded the whole matter. Then Ion gathered all the Princes of Delphi\ntogether, and told them that the strange woman, the daughter of\nErechtheus, had plotted his death by poison. And the sentence of the\nPrinces was that she should be cast down from the rock on which their\ncity was built, because she had sought to slay with poison the minister\nof the god.\n\nThen one who had seen the whole matter from the beginning to the end,\nran with all speed and told it to the Queen; and she, when she heard it,\nand that the officers of the people were coming to lay hands on her,\nfled to the altar of Apollo, and sat upon it in the place whereon the\nsacrifice was laid; for they that flee to the altar are sacred, and it\nis a sin against the god if any man touch them. But in a short space\ncame Ion with a troop of armed men, breathing out threats and fury\nagainst the Queen. And when he saw her he said, \"What a viper is this\nthat thou hast brought forth, land of Attica! Worse is she than the drop\nof Gorgon's blood wherewith she would have slain me. Seize her that she\nmay be thrown from the rock. 'Tis well for me that I set not foot in her\nhouse in Athens; for then had she caught me in a net, and I had surely\ndied. But now the altar of Apollo shall not save her.\"\n\nAnd he bade the men drag her from the holy place. But even as he spake\ncame in the Pythia, the priestess. And when Ion had greeted her, asking\nher whether she knew how this woman had sought to slay him, she answered\nthat she knew it, but that he too was fierce above measure, and that he\nmust not defile with blood the house whereto he went in the city of\nAthens. And when he was loath to listen to her, she said, \"Seest thou\nthis that I hold in my hand?\" Now what she held was a basket with tufts\nof wool about it. \"This is that in which I found thee, long ago, a\nnew-born babe. And Apollo hath laid it upon me not to say aught of this\nbefore, but now to give it into thy hands. Take it, therefore, for the\nswaddling clothes wherein thou wast wrapped are within, and find out for\nthyself of what race thou art. And now, farewell; for I love thee as a\nmother loveth her child.\"\n\nThen Ion said to himself, \"This is a sorrowful thing to see, this basket\nin which my mother laid me long since, putting me away from her in\nsecret, so that I have grown up as one without a name in this temple.\nThe god hath dealt kindly with me, yet hath my fortune and the fortune\nof my mother been but ill. And what if I find that I am the son of some\nbondwoman. It was better to know nought than to know this. But I may not\nfight against the will of the god; wherefore I will open it and hear my\npast whatever it be.\"\n\nSo he opened the basket, and marvelled that it was not wasted with time,\nand that there was no decay upon that which was within. But when the\nQueen saw the basket, she knew it, and leapt from where she sat upon the\naltar, and told him all that was in her heart, that in time past, before\nshe was wedded to King Xuthus, she had borne a son to Apollo, and had\nlaid the babe in this basket, and with him swaddling clothes of things\nwhich she had woven with her own hands, and \"Thou,\" she said, \"art my\nson, whom I see after this long time.\"\n\nAnd when the young man doubted whether this was so, the Queen told him\nthe pattern of the clothes; that there was one which she had woven being\nyet a girl, not finished with skill, but like rather to the task of one\nthat learns, and that there was wrought upon it the head of the Gorgon,\nand that it was fringed about with snakes, like to Pallas's shield, the\naegis. Also she said that there were necklaces wrought like to the scales\nof a snake, and a wreath of olive besides, as befitted the child of a\ndaughter of Athens.\n\nThen Ion knew that the Queen was his mother; yet was he sore perplexed,\nfor the god had given him as a son to King Xuthus, nor did he doubt but\nthat the god ever speaketh that which is true. Then he said that he\nwould himself inquire of Apollo. But as he turned to go, lo! a great\nbrightness in the air, and the shape as of one of the dwellers in\nheaven. And when he was afraid, and would have fled with the Queen,\nthere came a voice, saying, \"Flee not, for I am a friend and not an\nenemy. I am Pallas, and I come from King Apollo with a message to this\nyouth and to the Queen. To Ion he saith, 'Thou art my son, whom this\nwoman bare to me in time past.' And to the Queen, 'Take this thy son\nwith thee to the city of Athens, and set him on the throne of thy\nfather, for it is meet that he, being of the race of Erechtheus, should\nsit thereon. And know that he shall become a great nation, and that his\nchildren in time to come shall dwell in the islands of the sea, and in\nthe lands that border thereon, and that they shall be called Ionians\nafter his name. Know also that thou shalt bear children to Xuthus--Dorus\nand AEolus--and that these also shall become fathers of nations.'\"\n\nAnd when the goddess had thus spoken she departed; and the two, Ion and\nQueen Creuesa, with King Xuthus also, went to their home in great joy and\npeace.\n\n\n\n\n_THE AJAX SERIES_\n\nEach volume bound like this book\n\nFor sale at all bookstores\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\nBy E.P. ROE\n\n  Barriers Burned Away\n  Day of Fate, A\n  Driven Back to Eden\n  Earth Trembled, The\n  Face Illumined, A\n  From Jest to Earnest\n  He Fell in Love with His Wife\n  His Sombre Rivals\n  Home Acre, The\n  Knight of the XIX. Century, A\n  Miss Lou\n  Nature's Serial Story\n  Near to Nature's Heart\n  Opening of a Chestnut Burr\n  Original Belle, An\n  Success with Small Fruits\n  Taken Alive\n  What Can She Do?\n  Without a Home\n  Young Girl's Wooing, A\n\n\nBy AMELIA E. BARR\n\n  Bernecia\n  Between Two Loves\n  Border Shepherdess, A\n  Bow of Orange Ribbon, The\n  Christopher\n  Cluny MacPherson\n  Daughter of Fife, A\n  Feet of Clay\n  Friend Olivia\n  Hallam Succession, The\n  Household of McNeil\n  Jan Vedder's Wife\n  King's Highway, The\n  Knight of the Nets, A\n  Last of the Macallisters, The\n  Lone House, The\n  Lost Silver of Briffault, The\n  Love for an Hour is Love Forever\n  Master of His Fate\n  Paul and Christina\n  Remember the Alamo\n  Rose of a Hundred Leaves, A\n  Scottish Sketches\n  She Loved a Sailor\n  Singer from the Sea, A\n  Sister to Esau, A\n  Squire of Sandal-Side, The\n\n\nBy JOHN S. G ABBOTT\n\n  Benjamin Franklin\n  Captain Kidd and the Early American Buccaneers\n  Columbus and the Discovery of America\n  Daniel Boone and the Early Settlement of Kentucky\n  David Crockett and the Early Texas History\n  De Soto, the Discoverer of the Mississippi\n  George Washington and the Revolutionary War\n  Kit Carson, the Pioneer of the Far West\n  La Salle: His Discoveries and Adventures\n  Miles Standish, Captain of the Pilgrims\n  Paul Jones, Naval Hero of the Revolution\n  Peter Stuyvesant and the Early Settlement of New York\n\n\nMISCELLANEOUS\n\n  Captain Shannon                   Coulson Kernahan\n  First in the Field                Geo. Manville Fenn\n  Gallant Fight, A                  Marion Harland\n  House in Bloomsbury               Mrs. Oliphant\n  Impregnable City, The             Max Pemberton\n  Irish Idylls                      Jane Barlow\n  Kitty Alone                       S. Baring Gould\n  Land of the Dollar, The           G.W. Steevens\n  Lilith                            George Macdonald\n  Marooners' Island                 F.R. Goulding\n  Mosby's War Reminiscences         John S. Mosby\n  Samantha Among the Colored Folks  Marietta Holley\n  Tales of Our Coast                S.R. Crockett and Others\n  Two Captains, The                 W. Clark Russell\n  What Might Have Been Expected     Frank R. Stockton\n  Young Marooners, The              F.R. Goulding","title":"Stories from the Greek Tragedians","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":52406}