[Illustration: ELSA ON HER KNEES BEFORE LOHENGRIN]

 MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF ALL NATIONS

 FAMOUS STORIES

 FROM THE GREEK, GERMAN, ENGLISH, SPANISH SCANDINAVIAN, DANISH, FRENCH RUSSIAN, BOHEMIAN, ITALIAN AND OTHER SOURCES

 TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY LOGAN MARSHALL

 ILLUSTRATED WITH ORIGINAL COLORED PLATES

 THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA

PRINTED IN U. S. A. 

[Illustration: THEN ARTHUR DREW OUT THE SWORD AND WAS PROCLAIMED KING]

PREFACE

The myths and legends here gathered together have appealed and willcontinue to appeal to every age. Nowhere in the realm of fiction arethere stories to compare with those which took form centuries ago whenthe race was in its childhood--stories so intimately connected withthe life and history and religion of the great peoples of antiquitythat they have become an integral part of our own civilization, aheritage of wealth to every child that is born into the world. 

The historic basis of the tales is slight; yet who can think of theGreeks without remembering the story of Troy, or of Rome without abackward glance at Æneas, fabled founder of the race and hero ofVirgil's world-famous Latin epic? Any understanding of Germancivilization would be incomplete without knowledge of the mythicalprince Siegfried, hero of the earliest literature of the Teutonicpeople, finally immortalized in the nineteenth century through themusical dramas of Wagner. Any understanding of English civilizationwould be similarly incomplete without the semi-historic figure of KingArthur, glorified through the accumulated legends of the Middle Agesand made to live again in the melodic idylls of the great Victorianlaureate. And so one might go on. In many ways the mythology andfolklore of a country are a truer index to the life of its people thanany of the pages of actual history; for through these channels theimagination and the heart speak. All the chronicles of rulers andgoverning bodies are as dust in comparison. 

The imagination of the ancients had few if any bounds, and evenAthens in the height of her intellectual glory accepted the fabuloustales of gods and half-gods. Today we read and wonder. But the child, who in his brief lifetime must live over in part at least the historyof the whole race, delights in the myths and legends which made hisancestors admire or tremble. They are naturally not so real to him asthey were to his forefathers; yet they open up a rich and gorgeouswonderland, without excursions into which every child must grow up thepoorer in mind and spirit. 

To the children of America, wherever they may be, this book isdedicated. It is sure to bring enjoyment, because its stories havestood the test of time. 

CONTENTS

 PAGE

PROMETHEUS THE FRIEND OF MAN 7

THE LABORS OF HERCULES 11_From the German of Gustav Schwab. _

DEUCALION AND PYRRHA 29_From the German of Gustav Schwab. _

THESEUS AND THE CENTAUR 33_From the German of Gustav Schwab. _

NIOBE 37_From the German of Gustav Schwab. _

THE GORGON'S HEAD 41_From Hawthorne's "Wonder Book. "_

THE GOLDEN FLEECE 67_From Hawthorne's "Tanglewood Tales. "_

THE CYCLOPS 106_From Church's "Stories from Homer. "_

ŒDIPUS AND THE SPHINX 116_Adapted from Church's "Stories from Greek Tragedians. "_

ANTIGONE, A FAITHFUL DAUGHTER AND SISTER 118_Adapted from Church's "Stories from Greek Tragedians. "_

THE STORY OF IPHIGENIA 131_From Church's "Stories from Greek Tragedians. "_

THE SACK OF TROY 153_From Church's "Stories from Virgil. "_

BEOWULF AND GRENDEL 164_From Joyce Pollard's "Stories from Old English Romance. "_

THE GOOD KING ARTHUR 179

THE GREAT KNIGHT SIEGFRIED 214

LOHENGRIN AND ELSA THE BEAUTIFUL 221_From the German of Robert Hertwig. _

FRITHIOF THE BOLD 226_From the German of Robert Hertwig. _

WAYLAND THE SMITH 231_From the German of Robert Hertwig. _

TWARDOWSKI, THE POLISH FAUST 237

ILIA MUROMEC OF RUSSIA 243

KRALEWITZ MARKO OF SERVIA 245

THE DECISION OF LIBUSCHA 248

COUNT ROLAND OF FRANCE 250_From Church's "Stories of Charlemagne and the Peers of France. "_

THE CID 267

ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR

_Lohengrin and Elsa the Beautiful. _ Elsa on Her Knees Before Lohengrin _Cover_

_The Good King Arthur. _ Then Arthur Drew Out the Sword and was Proclaimed King _Frontispiece_

_Prometheus, the Friend of Man. _ PAGE Prometheus Punished for His Gift to Man 9

_The Labors of Hercules. _ The Hero Approached the Dreadful Monster 19

_Deucalion and Pyrrha. _ Deucalion and Pyrrha Casting the Bones of Their Mother Behind Them 31

_Theseus and the Centaur. _ The Centaur Fell Backward 35

_Niobe. _ Niobe Weeping for Her Children 40

_The Gorgon's Head. _ Perseus Slaying the Medusa 60

_The Golden Fleece. _ The Dragon Fell at Full Length Upon the Ground 104

_The Cyclops. _ The One-eyed Polyphemus 108

_Œdipus and the Sphinx. _ Œdipus Stood Before the Sphinx 116

_Antigone, the Faithful Daughter and Sister. _ The Blind Œdipus, Led by His Daughter Antigone 118

_The Story of Iphigenia. _ Iphigenia About to be Sacrificed 140

_The Sack of Troy. _ The Trojan Horse 153

_Beowulf and Grendel. _ Beowulf Face to Face With the Fire-breathing Dragon 170

_The Great Knight Siegfried. _ Siegfried Came Off Victor in Every Encounter 214

_Frithiof the Bold. _ Frithiof and Ingeborg in the Temple of Balder 230

_Wayland the Smith. _ Wayland the Smith, Wearing the Wings He had Fashioned 234

_Twardowski, the Polish Faust. _ Twardowski in the Arms of the Evil One 242

_Ilia Muromec of Russia. _ Zidovin Threw the Iron Club High Into the Air and Caught It with One Hand 244

_Kralewitz Marko of Servia. _ They Gagged Marko and Bound Him to His Horse 246

_The Decision of Libuscha. _ Libuscha Insulted by Chrudis 248

_Count Roland of France. _ Roland's Own Death Was Very Near 265

_The Cid. _ The Youthful Cid Avenging the Death of His Father 267

PROMETHEUS, THE FRIEND OF MAN

Many, many centuries ago there lived two brothers, Prometheus orForethought, and Epimetheus or Afterthought. They were the sons ofthose Titans who had fought against Jupiter and been sent in chains tothe great prison-house of the lower world, but for some reason hadescaped punishment. 

Prometheus, however, did not care for idle life among the gods onMount Olympus. Instead he preferred to spend his time on the earth, helping men to find easier and better ways of living. For the childrenof earth were not happy as they had been in the golden days whenSaturn ruled. Indeed, they were very poor and wretched and cold, without fire, without food, and with no shelter but miserable caves. 

"With fire they could at least warm their bodies and cook their food, "Prometheus thought, "and later they could make tools and build housesfor themselves and enjoy some of the comforts of the gods. "

So Prometheus went to Jupiter and asked that he might be permitted tocarry fire to the earth. But Jupiter shook his head in wrath. 

"Fire, indeed!" he exclaimed. "If men had fire they would soon be asstrong and wise as we who dwell on Olympus. Never will I give myconsent. "

Prometheus made no reply, but he didn't give up his idea of helpingmen. "Some other way must be found, " he thought. 

Then, one day, as he was walking among some reeds he broke off one, and seeing that its hollow stalk was filled with a dry, soft pith, exclaimed:

"At last! In this I can carry fire, and the children of men shallhave the great gift in spite of Jupiter. "

Immediately, taking a long stalk in his hands, he set out for thedwelling of the sun in the far east. He reached there in the earlymorning, just as Apollo's chariot was about to begin its journeyacross the sky. Lighting his reed, he hurried back, carefully guardingthe precious spark that was hidden in the hollow stalk. 

Then he showed men how to build fires for themselves, and it was notlong before they began to do all the wonderful things of whichPrometheus had dreamed. They learned to cook and to domesticateanimals and to till the fields and to mine precious metals and meltthem into tools and weapons. And they came out of their dark andgloomy caves and built for themselves beautiful houses of wood andstone. And instead of being sad and unhappy they began to laugh andsing. "Behold, the Age of Gold has come again, " they said. 

But Jupiter was not so happy. He saw that men were gaining dailygreater power, and their very prosperity made him angry. 

"That young Titan!" he cried out, when he heard what Prometheus haddone. "I will punish him. "

But before punishing Prometheus he decided to vex the children of men. So he gave a lump of clay to his blacksmith, Vulcan, and told him tomold it in the form of a woman. When the work was done he carried itto Olympus. 

Jupiter called the other gods together, bidding them give her each agift. One bestowed upon her beauty, another, kindness, another, skill, another, curiosity, and so on. Jupiter himself gave her the gift oflife, and they named her Pandora, which means "all-gifted. "

Then Mercury, the messenger of the gods, took Pandora and led her downthe mountain side to the place where Prometheus and his brother wereliving. 

[Illustration: PROMETHEUS PUNISHED FOR HIS GIFT TO MAN]

"Epimetheus, here is a beautiful woman that Jupiter has sent to beyour wife, " he said. 

Epimetheus was delighted and soon loved Pandora very deeply, becauseof her beauty and her goodness. 

Now Pandora had brought with her as a gift from Jupiter a goldencasket. Athena had warned her never to open the box, but she could nothelp wondering and wondering what it contained. Perhaps it heldbeautiful jewels. Why should they go to waste?

At last she could not contain her curiosity any longer. She opened thebox just a little to take a peep inside. Immediately there was abuzzing, whirring sound, and before she could snap down the lid tenthousand ugly little creatures had jumped out. They were diseases andtroubles, and very glad they were to be free. 

All over the earth they flew, entering into every household, andcarrying sorrow and distress wherever they went. 

How Jupiter must have laughed when he saw the result of Pandora'scuriosity!

Soon after this the god decided that it was time to punish Prometheus. He called Strength and Force and bade them seize the Titan and carryhim to the highest peak of the Caucasus Mountains. Then he sent Vulcanto bind him with iron chains, making arms and feet fast to the rocks. Vulcan was sorry for Prometheus, but dared not disobey. 

So the friend of man lay, miserably bound, naked to the winds, whilethe storms beat about him and an eagle tore at his liver with itscruel talons. But Prometheus did not utter a groan in spite of all hissufferings. Year after year he lay in agony, and yet he would notcomplain, beg for mercy or repent of what he had done. Men were sorryfor him, but could do nothing. 

Then one day a beautiful white cow passed over the mountain, andstopped to look at Prometheus with sad eyes. 

"I know you, " Prometheus said. "You are Io, once a fair and happymaiden dwelling in Argos, doomed by Jupiter and his jealous queen towander over the earth in this guise. Go southward and then west untilyou come to the great river Nile. There you shall again become amaiden, fairer than ever before, and shall marry the king of thatcountry. And from your race shall spring the hero who will break mychains and set me free. "

Centuries passed and then a great hero, Hercules, came to the CaucasusMountains. He climbed the rugged peak, slew the fierce eagle, and withmighty blows broke the chains that bound the friend of man. 

THE LABORS OF HERCULES

Before the birth of Hercules Jupiter had explained in the council ofthe gods that the first descendant of Perseus should be the ruler ofall the others of his race. This honor was intended for the son ofPerseus and Alcmene; but Juno was jealous and brought it about thatEurystheus, who was also a descendant of Perseus, should be bornbefore Theseus. So Eurystheus became king in Mycene, and thelater-born Hercules remained inferior to him. 

Now Eurystheus watched with anxiety the rising fame of his youngrelative, and called his subject to him, demanding that he carrythrough certain great tasks or labors. When Hercules did notimmediately obey, Jupiter himself sent word to him that he shouldfulfill his service to the King of Greece. 

Nevertheless the hero son of a god could not make up his mind easilyto render service to a mere mortal. So he traveled to Delphi andquestioned the oracle as to what he should do. This was the answer:

_The overlordship of Eurystheus will be qualified on condition thatHercules perform ten labors that Eurystheus shall assign him. Whenthis is done, Hercules shall be numbered among the immortal gods. _

Hereupon Hercules fell into deep trouble. To serve a man of lessimportance than himself hurt his dignity and self-esteem; but Jupiterwould not listen to his complaints. 

THE FIRST LABOR

The first labor that Eurystheus assigned to Hercules was to bring himthe skin of the Nemean lion. This monster dwelt on the mountain ofPeloponnesus, in the forest between Kleona and Nemea, and could bewounded by no weapons made of man. Some said he was the son of thegiant Typhon and the snake Echidna; others that he had dropped downfrom the moon to the earth. 

Hercules set out on his journey and came to Kleona, where a poorlaborer, Molorchus, received him hospitably. He met the latter just ashe was about to offer a sacrifice to Jupiter. 

"Good man, " said Hercules, "let the animal live thirty days longer;then, if I return, offer it to Jupiter, my deliverer, and if I do notreturn, offer it as a funeral sacrifice to me, the hero who hasattained immortality. "

So Hercules continued on his way, his quiver of arrows over hisshoulder, his bow in one hand, and in the other a club made from thetrunk of a wild olive tree which he had passed on Mount Helicon andpulled up by the roots. When he at last entered the Nemean wood, helooked carefully in every direction in order that he might catch sightof the monster lion before the lion should see him. It was mid-day, and nowhere could he discover any trace of the lion or any path thatseemed to lead to his lair. He met no man in the field or in theforest: fear held them all shut up in their distant dwellings. Thewhole afternoon he wandered through the thick undergrowth, determinedto test his strength just as soon as he should encounter the lion. 

At last, toward evening, the monster came through the forest, returning from his trap in a deep fissure of the earth. 

He was saturated with blood: head, mane and breast were reeking, andhis great tongue was licking his jaws. The hero, who saw him cominglong before he was near, took refuge in a thicket and waited until thelion approached; then with his arrow he shot him in the side. But theshot did not pierce his flesh; instead it flew back as if it hadstruck stone, and fell on the mossy earth. 

Then the animal raised his bloody head; looked around in everydirection, and in fierce anger showed his ugly teeth. Raising hishead, he exposed his heart, and immediately Hercules let fly anotherarrow, hoping to pierce him through the lungs. Again the arrow did notenter the flesh, but fell at the feet of the monster. 

Hercules took a third arrow, while the lion, casting his eyes to theside, watched him. His whole neck swelled with anger; he roared, andhis back was bent like a bow. He sprang toward his enemy; but Herculesthrew the arrow and cast off the lion skin in which he was clothedwith the left hand, while with the right he swung his club over thehead of the beast and gave him such a blow on the neck that, all readyto spring as the lion was, he fell back, and came to a stand ontrembling legs, with shaking head. Before he could take anotherbreath, Hercules was upon him. 

Throwing down his bow and quiver, that he might be entirelyunencumbered, he approached the animal from behind, threw his armaround his neck and strangled him. Then for a long time he sought invain to strip the fallen animal of his hide. It yielded to no weaponor no stone. At last the idea occurred to him of tearing it with theanimal's own claws, and this method immediately succeeded. 

Later he prepared for himself a coat of mail out of the lion's skin, and from the neck, a new helmet; but for the present he was content todon his own costume and weapons, and with the lion's skin over his armtook his way back to Tirynth. 

THE SECOND LABOR

The second labor consisted in destroying a hydra. This monster dweltin the swamp of Lerna, but came occasionally over the country, destroying herds and laying waste the fields. The hydra was anenormous creature--a serpent with nine heads, of which eight weremortal and one immortal. 

Hercules set out with high courage for this fight. He mounted hischariot, and his beloved nephew Iolaus, the son of his stepbrotherIphicles, who for a long time had been his inseparable companion, satby his side, guiding the horses; and so they sped toward Lerna. 

At last the hydra was visible on a hill by the springs of Amymone, where its lair was found. Here Iolaus left the horses stand. Herculesleaped from the chariot and sought with burning arrows to drive themany-headed serpent from its hiding place. It came forth hissing, itsnine heads raised and swaying like the branches of a tree in a storm. 

Undismayed, Hercules approached it, seized it, and held it fast. Butthe snake wrapped itself around one of his feet. Then he began withhis sword to cut off its heads. But this looked like an endless task, for no sooner had he cut off one head than two grew in its place. Atthe same time an enormous crab came to the help of the hydra and beganbiting the hero's foot. Killing this with his club, he called toIolaus for help. 

The latter had lighted a torch, set fire to a portion of the nearbywood, and with brands therefrom touched the serpent's newly growingheads and prevented them from living. In this way the hero was at lastmaster of the situation and was able to cut off even the head of thehydra that could not be killed. This he buried deep in the ground androlled a heavy stone over the place. The body of the hydra he cut intohalf, dipping his arrows in the blood, which was poisonous. 

From that time the wounds made by the arrows of Hercules were fatal. 

THE THIRD LABOR

The third demand of Eurystheus was that Hercules bring to him alivethe hind Cerynitis. This was a noble animal, with horns of gold andfeet of iron. She lived on a hill in Arcadia, and was one of the fivehinds which the goddess Diana had caught on her first hunt. This one, of all the five, was permitted to run loose again in the woods, for itwas decreed by fate that Hercules should one day hunt her. 

For a whole year Hercules pursued her; came at last to the riverLadon; and there captured the hind, not far from the city Oenon, onthe mountains of Diana. But he knew of no way of becoming master ofthe animal without wounding her, so he lamed her with an arrow andthen carried her over his shoulder through Arcadia. 

Here he met Diana herself with Apollo, who scolded him for wishing tokill the animal that she had held sacred, and was about to take itfrom him. 

"Impiety did not move me, great goddess, " said Hercules in his owndefense, "but only the direst necessity. How otherwise could I hold myown against Eurystheus?"

And thus he softened the anger of the goddess and brought the animalto Mycene. 

THE FOURTH LABOR

Then Hercules set out on his fourth undertaking. It consisted inbringing alive to Mycene a boar which, likewise sacred to Diana, waslaying waste the country around the mountain of Erymanthus. 

On his wanderings in search of this adventure he came to the dwellingof Pholus, the son of Silenus. Like all Centaurs, Pholus was half manand half horse. He received his guest with hospitality and set beforehim broiled meat, while he himself ate raw. But Hercules, notsatisfied with this, wished also to have something good to drink. 

"Dear guest, " said Pholus, "there is a cask in my cellar; but itbelongs to all the Centaurs jointly, and I hesitate to open it becauseI know how little they welcome guests. "

"Open it with good courage, " answered Hercules, "I promise to defendyou against all displeasure. "

As it happened, the cask of wine had been given to the Centaurs byBacchus, the god of wine, with the command that they should not openit until, after four centuries, Hercules should appear in their midst. 

Pholus went to the cellar and opened the wonderful cask. But scarcelyhad he done so when the Centaurs caught the perfume of the rare oldwine, and, armed with stones and pine clubs, surrounded the cave ofPholus. The first who tried to force their way in Hercules drove backwith brands he seized from the fire. The rest he pursued with bow andarrow, driving them back to Malea, where lived the good Centaur, Chiron, Hercules' old friend. To him his brother Centaurs had fled forprotection. 

But Hercules still continued shooting, and sent an arrow through thearm of an old Centaur, which unhappily went quite through and fell onChiron's knee, piercing the flesh. Then for the first time Herculesrecognized his friend of former days, ran to him in great distress, pulled out the arrow, and laid healing ointment on the wound, as thewise Chiron himself had taught him. But the wound, filled with thepoison of the hydra, could not be healed; so the centaur was carriedinto his cave. There he wished to die in the arms of his friend. Vainwish! The poor Centaur had forgotten that he was immortal, and thoughwounded would not die. 

Then Hercules with many tears bade farewell to his old teacher andpromised to send to him, no matter at what price, the great deliverer, Death. And we know that he kept his word. 

When Hercules from the pursuit of the other Centaurs returned to thedwelling of Pholus he found him also dead. He had drawn the deadlyarrow from the lifeless body of one Centaur, and while he waswondering how so small a thing could do such great damage, thepoisoned arrow slipped through his fingers and pierced his foot, killing him instantly. Hercules was very sad, and buried his bodyreverently beneath the mountain, which from that day was calledPholoë. 

Then Hercules continued his hunt for the boar, drove him with criesout of the thick of the woods, pursued him into a deep snow field, bound the exhausted animal, and brought him, as he had been commanded, alive to Mycene. 

THE FIFTH LABOR

Thereupon King Eurystheus sent him upon the fifth labor, which was onelittle worthy of a hero. It was to clean the stables of Augeas in asingle day. 

Augeas was king in Elis and had great herds of cattle. These herdswere kept, according to the custom, in a great inclosure before thepalace. Three thousand cattle were housed there, and as the stableshad not been cleaned for many years, so much manure had accumulatedthat it seemed an insult to ask Hercules to clean them in one day. 

When the hero stepped before King Augeas and without telling himanything of the demands of Eurystheus, pledged himself to the task, the latter measured the noble form in the lion-skin and could hardlyrefrain from laughing when he thought of so worthy a warriorundertaking so menial a work. But he said to himself: "Necessity hasdriven many a brave man; perhaps this one wishes to enrich himselfthrough me. That will help him little. I can promise him a largereward if he cleans out the stables, for he can in one day clearlittle enough. " Then he spoke confidently:

"Listen, O stranger. If you clean all of my stables in one day, I willgive over to you the tenth part of all my possessions in cattle. "

Hercules accepted the offer, and the king expected to see him beginto shovel. But Hercules, after he had called the son of Augeas towitness the agreement, tore the foundations away from one side of thestables; directed to it by means of a canal the streams of Alpheus andPeneus that flowed near by; and let the waters carry away the filththrough another opening. So he accomplished the menial work withoutstooping to anything unworthy of an immortal. 

When Augeas learned that this work had been done in the service ofEurystheus, he refused the reward and said that he had not promisedit; but he declared himself ready to have the question settled incourt. When the judges were assembled, Phyleus, commanded by Herculesto appear, testified against his father, and explained how he hadagreed to offer Hercules a reward. Augeas did not wait for thedecision; he grew angry and commanded his son as well as the strangerto leave his kingdom instantly. 

THE SIXTH LABOR

Hercules now returned with new adventures to Eurystheus; but thelatter would not give him credit for the task because Hercules haddemanded a reward for his labor. He sent the hero forth upon a sixthadventure, commanding him to drive away the Stymphalides. These weremonster birds of prey, as large as cranes, with iron feathers, beaksand claws. They lived on the banks of Lake Stymphalus in Arcadia, andhad the power of using their feathers as arrows and piercing withtheir beaks even bronze coats of mail. Thus they brought destructionto both animals and men in all the surrounding country. 

[Illustration: THE HERO APPROACHED THE DREADFUL MONSTER]

After a short journey Hercules, accustomed to wandering, arrived atthe lake, which was thickly shaded by a wood. Into this wood a greatflock of the birds had flown for fear of being robbed by wolves. The hero stood undecided when he saw the frightful crowd, not knowinghow he could become master over so many enemies. Then he felt a lighttouch on his shoulder, and glancing behind him saw the tall figure ofthe goddess Minerva, who gave into his hands two mighty brass rattlesmade by Vulcan. Telling him to use these to drive away theStymphalides, she disappeared. 

Hercules mounted a hill near the lake, and began frightening the birdsby the noise of the rattles. The Stymphalides could not endure theawful noise and flew, terrified, out of the forest. Then Herculesseized his bow and sent arrow after arrow in pursuit of them, shootingmany as they flew. Those who were not killed left the lake and neverreturned. 

THE SEVENTH LABOR

King Minos of Crete had promised Neptune (Poseidon), god of the sea, to offer to him whatever animal should first come up out of the water, for he declared he had no animal that was worthy for so high asacrifice. Therefore the god caused a very beautiful ox to rise out ofthe sea. But the king was so taken with the noble appearance of theanimal that he secretly placed it among his own herds and offeredanother to Neptune. Angered by this, the god had caused the animal tobecome mad, and it was bringing great destruction to the island ofCrete. To capture this animal, master it, and bring it beforeEurystheus, was the seventh labor of Hercules. 

When the hero came to Crete and with this intention stepped beforeMinos, the king was not a little pleased over the prospect of riddingthe island of the bull, and he himself helped Hercules to capture theraging animal. Hercules approached the dreadful monster without fear, and so thoroughly did he master him that he rode home on the animalthe whole way to the sea. 

With this work Eurystheus was pleased, and after he had regarded theanimal for a time with pleasure, set it free. No longer underHercules' management, the ox became wild again, wandered through allLaconia and Arcadia, crossed over the isthmus to Marathon in Atticaand devastated the country there as formerly on the island of Crete. Later it was given to the hero Theseus to become master over him. 

THE EIGHTH LABOR

The eighth labor of Hercules was to bring the mares of the ThracianDiomede to Mycene. Diomede was a son of Mars and ruler of theBistonians, a very warlike people. He had mares so wild and strongthat they had to be fastened with iron chains. Their fodder waschiefly hay; but strangers who had the misfortune to come into thecity were thrown before them, their flesh serving the animals as food. 

When Hercules arrived the first thing he did was to seize the inhumanking himself and after he had overpowered the keepers, throw himbefore his own mares. With this food the animals were satisfied andHercules was able to drive them to the sea. 

But the Bistonians followed him with weapons, and Hercules was forcedto turn and fight them. He gave the horses into the keeping of hisbeloved companion Abderus, the son of Mercury, and while Hercules wasaway the animals grew hungry again and devoured their keeper. 

Hercules, returning, was greatly grieved over this loss, and laterfounded a city in honor of Abderus, naming it after his lost friend. For the present he was content to master the mares and drive themwithout further mishap to Eurystheus. 

The latter consecrated the horses to Juno. Their descendants were verypowerful, and the great king Alexander of Macedonia rode one of them. 

THE NINTH LABOR

Returning from a long journey, the hero undertook an expeditionagainst the Amazons in order to finish the ninth adventure and bringto King Eurystheus the sword belt of the Amazon Hippolyta. 

The Amazons inhabited the region of the river Thermodon and were arace of strong women who followed the occupations of men. From theirchildren they selected only such as were girls. United in an army, they waged great wars. Their queen, Hippolyta, wore, as a sign of herleadership, a girdle which the goddess of war had given her as apresent. 

Hercules gathered his warrior companions together into a ship, sailedafter many adventures into the Black Sea and at last into the mouth ofthe river Thermodon, and the harbor of the Amazon city Themiscira. Here the queen of the Amazons met him. 

The lordly appearance of the hero flattered her pride, and when sheheard the object of his visit, she promised him the belt. But Juno, the relentless enemy of Hercules, assuming the form of an Amazon, mingled among the others and spread the news that a stranger was aboutto lead away their queen. Then the Amazons fought with the warriors ofHercules, and the best fighters of them attacked the hero and gave hima hard battle. 

The first who began fighting with him was called, because of herswiftness, Aëlla, or Bride of the Wind; but she found in Hercules aswifter opponent, was forced to yield and was in her swift flightovertaken by him and vanquished. A second fell at the first attack;then Prothoë, the third, who had come off victor in seven duels, alsofell. Hercules laid low eight others, among them three huntercompanions of Diana, who, although formerly always certain with theirweapons, today failed in their aim, and vainly covering themselveswith their shields fell before the arrows of the hero. Even Alkippefell, who had sworn to live her whole live unmarried: the vow shekept, but not her life. 

After even Melanippe, the brave leader of the Amazons, was madecaptive, all the rest took to wild flight, and Hippolyta the queenhanded over the sword belt which she had promised even before thefight. Hercules took it as ransom and set Melanippe free. 

THE TENTH LABOR

When the hero laid the sword belt of Queen Hippolyta at the feet ofEurystheus, the latter gave him no rest, but sent him out immediatelyto procure the cattle of the giant Geryone. The latter dwelt on anisland in the midst of the sea, and possessed a herd of beautifulred-brown cattle, which were guarded by another giant and a two-headeddog. 

Geryone himself was enormous, had three bodies, three heads, six armsand six feet. No son of earth had ever measured his strength againsthim, and Hercules realized exactly how many preparations werenecessary for this heavy undertaking. As everybody knew, Geryone'sfather, who bore the name "Gold-Sword" because of his riches, was kingof all Iberia (Spain). Besides Geryone he had three brave giant sonswho fought for him; and each son had a mighty army of soldiers underhis command. For these very reasons had Eurystheus given the task toHercules, for he hoped that his hated existence would at last be endedin a war in such a country. Yet Hercules set out on this undertakingno more dismayed than on any previous expedition. 

He gathered together his army on the island of Crete, which he hadfreed from wild animals, and landed first in Libya. Here he met thegiant Antaeus, whose strength was renewed as often as he touched theearth. He also freed Libya of birds of prey; for he hated wildanimals and wicked men because he saw in all of them the image of theoverbearing and unjust lord whom he so long had served. 

After long wandering through desert country he came at last to afruitful land, through which great streams flowed. Here he founded acity of vast size, which he named Hecatompylos (City of a HundredGates). Then at last he reached the Atlantic Ocean and planted the twomighty pillars which bear his name. 

The sun burned so fiercely that Hercules could bear it no longer; heraised his eyes to heaven and with raised bow threatened the sun-god. Apollo wondered at his courage and lent him for his further journeysthe bark in which he himself was accustomed to lie from sunset tosunrise. In this Hercules sailed to Iberia. 

Here he found the three sons of Gold-Sword with three great armiescamping near each other; but he killed all the leaders and plunderedthe land. Then he sailed to the island Erythia, where Geryone dweltwith his herds. 

As soon as the two-headed dog knew of his approach he sprang towardhim; but Hercules struck him with his club and killed him. He killedalso the giant herdsman who came to the help of the dog. Then hehurried away with the cattle. 

But Geryone overtook him and there was a fierce struggle. Juno herselfoffered to assist the giant; but Hercules shot her with an arrow deepin the heart, and the goddess, wounded, fled. Even the threefold bodyof the giant which ran together in the region of the stomach, felt themight of the deadly arrows and was forced to yield. 

With glorious adventures Hercules continued his way home, driving thecattle across country through Iberia and Italy. At Rhegium in lowerItaly one of his oxen got away and swam across the strait to Sicily. Immediately Hercules drove the other cattle into the water and swam, holding one by the horns, to Sicily. Then the hero pursued his waywithout misfortune through Italy, Illyria and Thrace to Greece. 

Hercules had now accomplished ten labors; but Eurystheus was stillunsatisfied and there were two more tasks to be undertaken. 

THE ELEVENTH LABOR

At the celebration of the marriage of Jupiter and Juno, when all thegods were bringing their wedding gifts to the happy pair, Mother Earthdid not wish to be left out. So she caused to spring forth on thewestern borders of the great world-sea a many-branched tree full ofgolden apples. Four maidens called the Hesperides, daughters of Night, were the guardians of this sacred garden, and with them watched thehundred-headed dragon, Ladon, whose father was Phorkys, the parent ofmany monsters. Sleep came never to the eyes of this dragon and afearful hissing sound warned one of his presence, for each of hishundred throats had a different voice. From this monster, so was thecommand of Eurystheus, should Hercules seize the golden apples. 

The hero set out on his long and adventurous journey and placedhimself in the hands of blind chance, for he did not know where theHesperides dwelt. 

He went first to Thessaly, where dwelt the giant Termerus, who withhis skull knocked to death every traveler that he met; but on themighty cranium of Hercules the head of the giant himself was splitopen. 

Farther on the hero came upon another monster in his way--Cycnus, theson of Mars and Pyrene. He, when asked concerning the garden of theHesperides, instead of answering, challenged the wanderer to a duel, and was beaten by Hercules. Then appeared Mars, the god of war, himself, to avenge the death of his son; and Hercules was forced tofight with him. But Jupiter did not wish that his sons should shedblood, and sent his lightning bolt to separate the two. 

Then Hercules continued his way through Illyria, hastened over theriver Eridanus, and came to the nymphs of Jupiter and Themis, whodwelt on the banks of the stream. To these Hercules put his question. 

"Go to the old river god Nereus, " was their answer. "He is a seer andknows all things. Surprise him while he sleeps and bind him; then hewill be forced to tell you the right way. "

Hercules followed this advice and became master of the river god, although the latter, according to his custom, assumed many differentforms. Hercules would not let him go until he had learned in whatlocality he could find the golden apples of the Hesperides. 

Informed of this, he went on his way toward Libya and Egypt. Over thelatter land ruled Busiris, the son of Neptune and Lysianassa. To himduring the period of a nine-year famine a prophet had borne theoracular message that the land would again bear fruit if a strangerwere sacrificed once a year to Jupiter. In gratitude Busiris made abeginning with the priest himself. Later he found great pleasure inthe custom and killed all strangers who came to Egypt. So Hercules wasseized and placed on the altar of Jupiter. But he broke the chainswhich bound him, and killed Busiris and his son and the priestlyherald. 

With many adventures the hero continued his way, set free, as has beentold elsewhere, Prometheus, the Titan, who was bound to the CaucasusMountains, and came at last to the place where Atlas stood carryingthe weight of the heavens on his shoulders. Near him grew the treewhich bore the golden apples of the Hesperides. 

Prometheus had advised the hero not to attempt himself to make therobbery of the golden fruit, but to send Atlas on the errand. Thegiant offered to do this if Hercules would support the heavens whilehe went. This Hercules consented to do, and Atlas set out. He put tosleep the dragon who lived beneath the tree and killed him. Then witha trick he got the better of the keepers, and returned happily toHercules with the three apples which he had plucked. 

"But, " he said, "I have now found out how it feels to be relieved ofthe heavy burden of the heavens. I will not carry them any longer. "Then he threw the apples down at the feet of the hero, and left himstanding with the unaccustomed, awful weight upon his shoulders. 

Hercules had to think of a trick in order to get away. "Let me, " hesaid to the giant, "just make a coil of rope to bind around my head, so that the frightful weight will not cause my forehead to give way. "

Atlas found this new demand reasonable, and consented to take over theburden again for a few minutes. But the deceiver was at last deceived, and Hercules picked up the apples from the ground and set out on hisway back. He carried the apples to Eurystheus, who, since his objectof getting rid of the hero had not been accomplished, gave them backto Hercules as a present. The latter laid them on the altar ofMinerva; but the goddess, knowing that it was contrary to the divinewishes to carry away this sacred fruit, returned the apples to thegarden of the Hesperides. 

THE TWELFTH LABOR

Instead of destroying his hated enemy the labors which Eurystheus hadimposed upon Hercules had only strengthened the hero in the fame forwhich fate had selected him. He had become the protector of all thewronged upon earth, and the boldest adventurer among mortals. 

But the last labor he was to undertake in the region in which hishero strength--so the impious king hoped--would not accompany him. This was a fight with the dark powers of the underworld. He was tobring forth from Hades Cerberus, the dog of Hell. This animal hadthree heads with frightful jaws, from which incessantly poison flowed. A dragon's tail hung from his body, and the hair of his head and ofhis back formed hissing, coiling serpents. 

To prepare himself for this fearful journey Hercules went to the cityof Eleusis, in Attic territory, where, from a wise priest, he receivedsecret instruction in the things of the upper and lower world, andwhere also he received pardon for the murder of the Centaur. 

Then, with strength to meet the horrors of the underworld, Herculestraveled on to Peloponnesus, and to the Laconian city of Taenarus, which contained the opening to the lower world. Here, accompanied byMercury, he descended through a cleft in the earth, and came to theentrance of the city of King Pluto. The shades which sadly wanderedback and forth before the gates of the city took flight as soon asthey caught sight of flesh and blood in the form of a living man. Onlythe Gorgon Medusa and the spirit of Meleager remained. The formerHercules wished to overthrow with his sword, but Mercury touched himon the arm and told him that the souls of the departed were only emptyshadow pictures and could not be wounded by mortal weapons. 

With the soul of Meleager the hero chatted in friendly fashion, andreceived from him loving messages for the upper world. Still nearer tothe gates of Hades Hercules caught sight of his friends Theseus andPirithous. When both saw the friendly form of Hercules they stretchedbeseeching hands towards him, trembling with the hope that through hisstrength they might again reach the upper world. Hercules graspedTheseus by the hand, freed him from his chains and raised him from theground. A second attempt to free Pirithous did not succeed, for theground opened beneath his feet. 

At the gate of the City of the Dead stood King Pluto, and deniedentrance to Hercules. But with an arrow the hero shot the god in theshoulder, so that he feared the mortal; and when Hercules then askedwhether he might lead away the dog of Hades he did not longer opposehim. But he imposed the condition that Hercules should become masterof Cerberus without using any weapons. So the hero set out, protectedonly with cuirass and the lion skin. 

He found the dog camping near the dwelling of Acheron, and withoutpaying any attention to the bellowing of the three heads, which waslike the echo of fearful resounding thunder, he seized the dog by thelegs, put his arms around his neck, and would not let him go, althoughthe dragon tail of the animal bit him in the cheek. 

He held the neck of Cerberus firm, and did not let go until he wasreally master of the monster. Then he raised it, and through anotheropening of Hades returned in happiness to his own country. When thedog of Hades saw the light of day he was afraid and began to spitpoison, from which poisonous plants sprung up out of the earth. Hercules brought the monster in chains to Tirynth, and led it beforethe astonished Eurystheus, who could not believe his eyes. 

Now at last the king doubted whether he could ever rid himself of thehated son of Jupiter. He yielded to his fate and dismissed the hero, who led the dog of Hades back to his owner in the lower world. 

Thus Hercules after all his labors was at last set free from theservice of Eurystheus, and returned to Thebes. 

DEUCALION AND PYRRHA

While the men of the Age of Bronze still dwelt upon the earth reportsof their wickedness were carried to Jupiter. The god decided to verifythe reports by coming to earth himself in the form of a man, andeverywhere he went he found that the reports were much milder than thetruth. 

One evening in the late twilight he entered the inhospitable shelterof the Arcadian King Lycaon, who was famed for his wild conduct. Byseveral signs he let it be known that he was a god, and the crowddropped to their knees; but Lycaon made light of the pious prayers. 

"Let us see, " he said, "whether he is a mortal or a god. "

Thereupon he decided to destroy the guest that night while he lay inslumber, not expecting death. But before doing so he killed a poorhostage whom the Molossians had sent to him, cooked the half-livinglimbs in boiling water or broiled them over a fire, and placed them onthe table before the guest for his evening meal. 

But Jupiter, who knew all this, left the table and sent a raging fireover the castle of the godless man. Frightened, the king fled into theopen field. The first cry he uttered was a howl; his garments changedto fur; his arms to legs; he was transformed into a bloodthirsty wolf. 

Jupiter returned to Olympus, held counsel with the gods and decided todestroy the reckless race of men. At first he wanted to turn hislightnings over all the earth, but the fear that the ether would takefire and destroy the axle of the universe restrained him. He laidaside the thunderbolt which the Cyclops had fashioned for him, anddecided to send rain from heaven over all the earth and so destroy therace of mortals. 

Immediately the North Wind and all the other cloud-scattering windswere locked in the cave of Aeolus, and only the South Wind sent out. The latter descended upon the earth; his frightful face was coveredwith darkness; his beard was heavy with clouds; from his white hairran the flood; mists lay upon his brow; from his bosom dropped thewater. The South Wind grasped the heavens, seized in his hands thesurrounding clouds and began to squeeze them. The thunder rolled;floods of rain burst from the heavens. The standing corn was bent tothe earth; destroyed was the hope of the farmer; destroyed the wearywork of a whole year. 

Even Neptune, god of the sea, came to the assistance of his brotherJupiter in the work of destruction. He called all the rivers togetherand said, "Give full rein to your torrents; enter houses; breakthrough all dams!"

They followed his command, and Neptune himself struck the earth withhis trident and let the flood enter. Then the waters streamed over theopen meadows, covered the fields, dislodged trees, temples and houses. Wherever a palace stood, its gables were soon covered with water andthe highest turrets were hidden in the torrent. Sea and earth were nolonger divided; all was flood--an unbroken stretch of water. 

Men tried to save themselves as best they could; some climbed the highmountains; others entered boats and rowed, now over the roofs of thefallen houses, now over the hills of their ruined vineyards. Fish swamamong the branches of the highest trees; the wild boar was caught inthe flood; people were swept away by the water and those whom theflood spared died of hunger on the barren mountains. 

[Illustration: DEUCALION AND PYRRHA CASTING THE BONES OF THEIR MOTHERBEHIND THEM]

One high mountain in the country of Phocis still raised two peaksabove the surrounding waters. It was the great Mount Parnassus. Towardthis floated a boat containing Deucalion, the son of Prometheus, and his wife Pyrrha. No man, no woman, had ever been found whosurpassed these in righteousness and piety. When, therefore, Jupiter, looking down from heaven upon the earth, saw that only a single pairof mortals remained of the many thousand times a thousand, bothblameless, both devoted servants of the gods, he sent forth the NorthWind, recalled the clouds, and once again separated the earth from theheavens and the heavens from the earth. 

Even Neptune, lord of the sea, laid down his trident and calmed theflood. The ocean resumed its banks; the rivers returned to their beds;forests stretched their slime-covered tree-tops out of the deep; hillsfollowed; finally stretches of level land appeared and the earth wasas before. 

Deucalion looked around him. The country was laid waste; it waswrapped in the silence of the grave. Tears rolled down his cheeks andhe said to his wife, Pyrrha, "Beloved, solitary companion of my life, as far as I can see through all the surrounding country, I candiscover no living creature. We two must people the earth; all therest have been drowned by the flood. But even we are not yet certainof our lives. Every cloud that I see strikes terror to my soul. Andeven if danger is past, what shall we do alone on the forsaken earth?Oh, that my father Prometheus had taught me the art of creating menand breathing life into them!"

Then the two began to weep. They threw themselves on their kneesbefore the half-destroyed altar of the goddess Themis, and began topray, saying, "Tell us, O goddess, by what means we can replace therace that has disappeared? Oh, help the earth to new life. "

"Leave my altar, " sounded the voice of the goddess. "Uncover yourheads, ungird your garments and cast the bones of your mother behindyou. "

For a long time Deucalion and Pyrrha wondered over the puzzling wordsof the goddess. Pyrrha was the first to break the silence. "Pardon me, O noble goddess, " she said, "if I do not obey you and cannot consentto scatter the bones of my mother. "

Then Deucalion had a happy thought. He comforted his wife. "Either myreason deceives me, " he said, "or the command of the goddess is goodand involves no impiety. The great mother of all of us is the Earth;her bones are the stones, and these, Pyrrha, we will cast behind us!"

Both mistrusted this interpretation of the words, but what harm wouldit do to try? Thereupon they uncovered their heads, ungirded theirgarments and began casting stones behind them. 

Then a wonderful thing happened. The stone began to lose its hardness, became malleable, grew and took form--not definite at once, but rudefigures such as an artist first hews out of the rough marble. Whateverwas moist or earthy in the stones was changed into flesh; the harderparts became bones; the veins in the rock remained as veins in thebodies. Thus, in a little while, with the aid of the gods, the stoneswhich Deucalion threw assumed the form of men; those which Pyrrhathrew, the form of women. 

This homely origin the race of men does not deny; they are a hardypeople, accustomed to work. Every moment of the day they remember fromwhat sturdy stock they have sprung. 

THESEUS AND THE CENTAUR

Theseus, the hero king of Athens, had a reputation for great strengthand bravery; but Pirithous, the son of Ixion, one of the most famousheroes of antiquity, wished to put him to the test. He therefore drovethe cattle which belonged to Theseus away from Marathon, and when heheard that Theseus, weapon in hand, was following him, then, indeed, he had what he desired. He did not flee, but turned around to meethim. 

When the two heroes were near enough to see each other, each was sofilled with admiration for the beautiful form and the bravery of hisopponent that, as if at a given signal, both threw down their weaponsand hastened toward each other. Pirithous extended his hand to Theseusand proposed that the latter act as arbitrator for the settlement ofthe dispute about the cattle: whatever satisfaction Theseus woulddemand Pirithous would willingly give. 

"The only satisfaction which I desire, " answered Pirithous, "is thatyou instead of my enemy become my friend and comrade in arms. "

Then the two heroes embraced each other and swore eternal friendship. 

Soon after this Pirithous chose the Thessalian princess, Hippodamia, from the race of Lapithæ, for his bride, and invited Theseus to thewedding. The Lapithæ, among whom the ceremony took place, were afamous family of Thessalians, rugged mountaineers, in some respectsresembling animals--the first mortals who had learned to manage ahorse. But the bride, who had sprung from this race, was not at alllike the men of her people. She was of noble form, with delicateyouthful face, so beautiful that all the guests praised Pirithous forhis good fortune. 

The assembled princes of Thessaly were at the wedding feast, and alsothe Centaurs, relatives of Pirithous. The Centaurs were half men, theoffspring which a cloud, assuming the form of the goddess Hera, hadborn to Ixion, the father of Pirithous. They were the eternal enemiesof the Lapithæ. Upon this occasion, however, and for the sake of thebride, they had forgotten past grudges and come together to the joyfulcelebration. The noble castle of Pirithous resounded with glad tumult;bridal songs were sung; wine and food abounded. Indeed, there were somany guests that the palace would not accommodate all. The Lapithæ andCentaurs sat at a special table in a grotto shaded by trees. 

For a long time the festivities went on with undisturbed happiness. Then the wine began to stir the heart of the wildest of the Centaurs, Eurytion, and the beauty of the Princess Hippodamia awoke in him themad desire of robbing the bridegroom of his bride. Nobody knew how itcame to pass; nobody noticed the beginning of the unthinkable act; butsuddenly the guests saw the wild Eurytion lifting Hippodamia from herfeet, while she struggled and cried for help. His deed was the signalfor the rest of the drunken Centaurs to do likewise, and before thestrange heroes and the Lapithæ could leave their places, every one ofthe Centaurs had roughly seized one of the Thessalian princesses whoserved at the court of the king or who had assembled as guests at thewedding. 

The castle and the grotto resembled a besieged city; the cry of thewomen sounded far and wide. Quickly friends and relatives sprang fromtheir places. 

"What delusion is this, Eurytion, " cried Theseus, "to vex Pirithouswhile I still live, and by so doing arouse the anger of two heroes?"With these words he forced his way through the crowd and tore thestolen bride from the struggling robber. 

[Illustration: THE CENTAUR FELL BACKWARD]

Eurytion said nothing, for he could not excuse his deed, but helifted his hand toward Theseus and gave him a rough knock in thechest. Then Theseus, who had no weapon at hand, seized an iron jug ofembossed workmanship which stood near by and flung it into the face ofhis opponent with such force that the Centaur fell backward on theground, while brains and blood oozed from the wound in his head. 

"To arms!" the cry arose from all sides. At first beakers, flasks andbowls flew back and forth. Then one sacrilegious monster grabbed theoblations from the neighboring apartments. Another tore down the lampwhich burned over the table, while still another fought with asacrificial deer which had hung on one side of the grotto. A frightfulslaughter ensued. Rhoetus, the most wicked of the Centaurs afterEurytion, seized the largest brand from the altar and thrust it intothe gaping wound of one of the fallen Lapithæ, so that the bloodhissed like iron in a furnace. In opposition to him rose Dryas, thebravest of the Lapithæ, and seizing a glowing log from the fire, thrust it into the Centaur's neck. The fate of this Centaur atoned forthe death of his fallen companion, and Dryas turned to the raging moband laid five of them low. 

Then the spear of the brave hero Pirithous flew forth and pierced amighty Centaur, Petraeus, just as he was about to uproot a tree to useit for a club. The spear pinned him against the knotted oak. A second, Dictys, fell at the stroke of the Greek hero, and in falling snappedoff a mighty ash tree; a third, wishing to avenge him, was crushed byTheseus with an oak club. 

The most beautiful and youthful of the Centaurs was Cyllarus. His longhair and beard were golden; his smile was friendly; his neck, shoulders, hands and breast were as beautiful as if formed by anartist. Even the lower part of his body, the part which resembled ahorse, was faultless, pitch-black in color, with legs and tail oflighter dye. He had come to the feast with his wife, the beautifulCentaur, Hylonome, who at the table had leaned gracefully against himand even now united with him in the raging fight. He received from anunknown hand a light wound near his heart, and sank dying in the armsof his wife. Hylonome nursed his dying form, kissed him and tried toretain the fleeting breath. When she saw that he was gone she drew adagger from her breast and stabbed herself. 

For a long time still the fight between the Lapithæ and the Centaurscontinued, but at last night put an end to the tumult. Then Pirithousremained in undisturbed possession of his bride, and on the followingmorning Theseus departed, bidding farewell to his friend. The commonfight had quickly welded the fresh tie of their brotherhood into anindestructible bond. 

NIOBE

Niobe, Queen of Thebes, was proud of many things. Amphion, herhusband, had received from the Muses a wonderful lyre, to the music ofwhich the stones of the royal palace had of themselves assumed place. Her father was Tantalus, who had been entertained by the gods; and sheherself was the ruler of a powerful kingdom and a woman of great prideof spirit and majestic beauty. But of none of these things was she soproud as she was of her fourteen lovely children, the seven sons andseven daughters to whom she had given birth. 

Indeed, Niobe was the happiest of all mothers, and so would she haveremained if she had not believed herself so peculiarly blessed. Hervery knowledge of her good fortune was her undoing. 

One day the prophetess Manto, daughter of the soothsayer Tiresias, being instructed of the gods, called together the women of Thebes todo honor to the goddess Latona and her two children, Apollo and Diana. "Put laurel wreaths upon your heads, " were her commands, "and bringsacrifices with pious prayers. "

Then while the women of Thebes were gathering together, Niobe cameforth, clad in a gold-embroidered garment, with a crowd of followers, radiant in her beauty, though angry, with her hair flowing about hershoulders. She stopped in the midst of the busy women, and raising hervoice, spoke to them. 

"Are you not foolish to worship gods of whom stories are told to youwhen more favored beings dwell here among you? While you are makingsacrifices on the altar of Latona, why does my divine name remainunknown? My father Tantalus is the only mortal who has ever sat at thetable of the gods; and my mother Dione is the sister of the Pleiades, who as bright stars shine nightly in the heavens. One of my uncles isthe giant Atlas, who on his neck supports the vaulted heavens; mygrandfather is Jupiter, the father of the gods. The people of Phrygiaobey me, and to me and my husband belongs the city of Cadmus, thewalls of which were put together by the music that my husband played. Every corner of my palace is filled with priceless treasures; andthere, too, are other treasures--children such as no other mother canshow: seven beautiful daughters, seven sturdy sons, and just as manysons- and daughters-in-law. Ask now whether I have ground for pride. Consider again before you honor more than me Latona, the unknowndaughter of the Titans, who could find no place in the whole earth inwhich she might rest and give birth to her children until the islandof Delos in compassion offered her a precarious shelter. There shebecame the mother of two children--the poor creature! Just the seventhpart of my mother joy! Who can deny that I am fortunate? Who willdoubt that I shall remain happy? Fortune would have a hard time if sheundertook to shatter my happiness. Take this or that one from mytreasured children; but when would the number of them dwindle to thesickly two of Latona? Away with your sacrifices! Take the laurel outof your hair. Go back to your homes and let me never see suchfoolishness again!"

Frightened at the outburst, the women removed the wreaths from theirheads, left their sacrifices and slunk home, still honoring Latonawith silent prayer. 

On the summit of the Delian mountain Cynthas stood Latona with her twochildren, watching what was taking place in distant Thebes. "See, mychildren, " she said, "I, your mother, who am so proud of your birth, who yield place to no goddess except Juno, I am held up to ridicule byan upstart mortal, and if you do not defend me, my children, I shallbe driven away from the ancient and holy altars. Yes, you too areinsulted by Niobe, and she would like to have you set aside for herchildren!"

Latona was about to go on, but Apollo interrupted her: "Cease yourlamentations, mother; you only delay the punishment. "

Then he and his sister wrapped themselves in a magic cloud cloak thatmade them invisible, and flew swiftly through the air until theyreached the town and castle of Cadmus. 

Just outside the walls of the city was an open field that was used asa race-course and practice ground for horses. Here the seven sons ofAmphion were amusing themselves, when suddenly the oldest dropped hisreins with a cry and fell from his horse, pierced to the heart by anarrow. One after another the whole seven were struck down. 

The news of the disaster soon spread through the city. Amphion, whenhe heard that all his sons had perished, fell on his own sword. Thenthe loud cries of his servants penetrated to the women's quarters. 

For a long time Niobe could not believe that the gods had thus broughtvengeance. When she did, how unlike was she to the Niobe who drove thepeople from the altars of the mighty goddess and strode through thecity with haughty mien. Crazed with grief she rushed out to the fieldwhere her sons had been stricken, threw herself on their dead bodies, kissing now this one and now that. Then, raising her arms to heaven, she cried, "Look now upon my distress, thou cruel Latona; for thedeath of these seven bows me to the earth. Triumph thou, O myvictorious enemy!"

Now the seven daughters of Niobe, clad in garments of mourning, drewnear, and with loosened hair stood around their brothers. And thesight of them brought a ray of joy to Niobe's white face. She forgother grief for a moment, and casting a scornful look to heaven, said, "Victor! No, for even in my loss I have more than thou in thyhappiness!"

Hardly had she spoken when there was the sound of a drawn bow. Thebystanders grew cold with fear, but Niobe was not frightened, formisfortune had made her strong. 

Suddenly one of the sisters put her hand to her breast and drew out anarrow that had pierced her; then, unconscious, she sank to the ground. Another daughter hastened to her mother to comfort her, but before shecould reach her she was laid low by a hidden wound. One after anotherthe rest fell, until only the last was left. She had fled to Niobe'slap and childlike was hiding her face in her mother's garments. 

"Leave me only this one, " cried Niobe, "just the youngest of so many. "

But even while she prayed the child fell lifeless from her lap, andNiobe sat alone among the dead bodies of her husband, her sons and herdaughters. She was speechless with grief; no breath of air stirred thehair on her head; the blood left her face; the eyes remained fixed onthe grief-stricken countenance; in the whole body there was no longerany sign of life. The veins ceased to carry blood; the neck stiffened;arms and feet grew rigid; the whole body was transformed into cold andlifeless stone. Nothing living remained to her except her tears, whichcontinued flowing from her stony eyes. 

Then a mighty wind lifted the image of stone, carried it over the seaand set it down in Lydia, the old home of Niobe, in the barrenmountains under the stony cliffs of Sipylus. Here Niobe remained fixedas a marble statue on the summit of the mountain, and to this very dayyou can see the grief-stricken mother in tears. 

[Illustration: NIOBE WEEPING FOR HER CHILDREN]

THE GORGON'S HEAD

Perseus was the son of Danaë, who was the daughter of a king. And whenPerseus was a very little boy, some wicked people put his mother andhimself into a chest and set them afloat upon the sea. The wind blewfreshly and drove the chest away from the shore, and the uneasybillows tossed it up and down; while Danaë clasped her child closelyto her bosom, and dreaded that some big wave would dash its foamycrest over them both. The chest sailed on, however, and neither sanknor was upset, until, when night was coming, it floated so near anisland that it got entangled in a fisherman's nets and was drawn outhigh and dry upon the sand. This island was called Seriphus and it wasreigned over by King Polydectes, who happened to be the fisherman'sbrother. 

This fisherman, I am glad to tell you, was an exceedingly humane andupright man. He showed great kindness to Danaë and her little boy, andcontinued to befriend them until Perseus had grown to be a handsomeyouth, very strong and active and skilful in the use of arms. Longbefore this time King Polydectes had seen the two strangers--themother and her child--who had come to his dominions in a floatingchest. As he was not good and kind, like his brother the fisherman, but extremely wicked, he resolved to send Perseus on a dangerousenterprise, in which he would probably be killed, and then to do somegreat mischief to Danaë herself. So this bad-hearted king spent a longwhile in considering what was the most dangerous thing that a youngman could possibly undertake to perform. At last, having hit upon anenterprise that promised to turn out as fatally as he desired, he sentfor the youthful Perseus. 

The young man came to the palace and found the king sitting upon histhrone. 

"Perseus, " said King Polydectes, smiling craftily upon him, "you aregrown up a fine young man. You and your good mother have received agreat deal of kindness from myself, as well as from my worthy brotherthe fisherman, and I suppose you would not be sorry to repay some ofit. "

"Please, your Majesty, " answered Perseus, "I would willingly risk mylife to do so. "

"Well, then, " continued the king, still with a cunning smile on hislips, "I have a little adventure to propose to you, and as you are abrave and enterprising youth, you will doubtless look upon it as agreat piece of good luck to have so rare an opportunity ofdistinguishing yourself. You must know, my good Perseus, I think ofgetting married to the beautiful Princess Hippodamia, and it iscustomary on these occasions to make the bride a present of somefar-fetched and elegant curiosity. I have been a little perplexed, Imust honestly confess, where to obtain anything likely to please aprincess of her exquisite taste. But this morning, I flatter myself, Ihave thought of precisely the article. "

"And can I assist your Majesty in obtaining it?" cried Perseus, eagerly. 

"You can if you are as brave a youth as I believe you to be, " repliedKing Polydectes with the utmost graciousness of manner. "The bridalgift which I have set my heart on presenting to the beautifulHippodamia is the head of the Gorgon Medusa with the snaky locks; andI depend on you, my dear Perseus, to bring it to me. So, as I amanxious to settle affairs with the princess, the sooner you go inquest of the Gorgon, the better I shall be pleased. "

"I will set out tomorrow morning, " answered Perseus. 

"Pray do so, my gallant youth, " rejoined the king. "And, Perseus, incutting off the Gorgon's head, be careful to make a clean stroke, soas not to injure its appearance. You must bring it home in the verybest condition in order to suit the exquisite taste of the beautifulPrincess Hippodamia. "

Perseus left the palace, but was scarcely out of hearing beforePolydectes burst into a laugh, being greatly amused, wicked king thathe was, to find how readily the young man fell into the snare. Thenews quickly spread abroad that Perseus had undertaken to cut off thehead of Medusa with the snaky locks. Everybody was rejoiced, for mostof the inhabitants of the island were as wicked as the king himselfand would have liked nothing better than to see some enormous mischiefhappen to Danaë and her son. The only good man in this unfortunateisland of Seriphus appears to have been the fisherman. As Perseuswalked along, therefore, the people pointed after him and made mouths, and winked to one another and ridiculed him as loudly as they dared. 

"Ho, ho!" cried they; "Medusa's snakes will sting him soundly!"

Now, there were three Gorgons alive at that period, and they were themost strange and terrible monsters that had ever been since the worldwas made, or that have been seen in after days, or that are likely tobe seen in all time to come. I hardly know what sort of creature orhobgoblin to call them. They were three sisters and seem to have bornesome distant resemblance to women, but were really a very frightfuland mischievous species of dragon. It is, indeed, difficult to imaginewhat hideous beings these three sisters were. Why, instead of locks ofhair, if you can believe men, they had each of them a hundred enormoussnakes growing on their heads, all alive, twisting, wriggling, curlingand thrusting out their venomous tongues, with forked stings at theend! The teeth of the Gorgons were terribly long tusks, their handswere made of brass, and their bodies were all over scales, which, ifnot iron, were something as hard and impenetrable. They had wings, too, and exceedingly splendid ones, I can assure you, for everyfeather in them was pure, bright, glittering, burnished gold; and theylooked very dazzling, no doubt, when the Gorgons were flying about inthe sunshine. 

But when people happened to catch a glimpse of their glitteringbrightness, aloft in the air, they seldom stopped to gaze, but ran andhid themselves as speedily as they could. You will think, perhaps, that they were afraid of being stung by the serpents that served theGorgons instead of hair--or of having their heads bitten off by theirugly tusks--or of being torn all to pieces by their brazen claws. Well, to be sure, these were some of the dangers, but by no means thegreatest nor the most difficult to avoid. For the worst thing aboutthese abominable Gorgons was that if once a poor mortal fixed his eyesfull upon one of their faces, he was certain that very instant to bechanged from warm flesh and blood into cold and lifeless stone!

Thus, as you will easily perceive, it was a very dangerous adventurethat the wicked King Polydectes had contrived for this innocent youngman. Perseus himself, when he had thought over the matter, could nothelp seeing that he had very little chance of coming safely throughit, and that he was far more likely to become a stone image than tobring back the head of Medusa with the snaky locks. For, not to speakof other difficulties, there was one which it would have puzzled anolder man than Perseus to get over. Not only must he fight with andslay this golden-winged, iron-scaled, long-tusked, brazen-clawed, snaky-haired monster, but he must do it with his eyes shut, or, atleast, without so much as a glance at the enemy with whom he wascontending. Else, while his arm was lifted to strike, he would stiffeninto stone and stand with that uplifted arm for centuries, until timeand the wind and weather should crumble him quite away. This would bea very sad thing to befall a young man who wanted to perform a greatmany brave deeds and to enjoy a great deal of happiness in this brightand beautiful world. 

So disconsolate did these thoughts make him that Perseus could notbear to tell his mother what he had undertaken to do. He thereforetook his shield, girded on his sword and crossed over from the islandto the mainland, where he sat down in a solitary place and hardlyrefrained from shedding tears. 

But while he was in this sorrowful mood, he heard a voice close besidehim. 

"Perseus, " said the voice, "why are you sad?"

He lifted his head from his hands, in which he had hidden it, andbehold! all alone as Perseus had supposed himself to be, there was astranger in the solitary place. It was a brisk, intelligent andremarkably shrewd-looking young man, with a cloak over his shoulders, an odd sort of cap on his head, a strangely twisted staff in his handand a short and very crooked sword hanging by his side. He wasexceedingly light and active in his figure, like a person muchaccustomed to gymnastic exercises and well able to leap or run. Aboveall, the stranger had such a cheerful, knowing and helpful aspect(though it was certainly a little mischievous, into the bargain) thatPerseus could not help feeling his spirits grow livelier as he gazedat him. Besides, being really a courageous youth, he felt greatlyashamed that anybody should have found him with tears in his eyes likea timid little schoolboy, when, after all, there might be no occasionfor despair. So Perseus wiped his eyes and answered the strangerpretty briskly, putting on as brave a look as he could. 

"I am not so very sad, " said he, "only thoughtful about an adventurethat I have undertaken. "

"Oho!" answered the stranger. "Well, tell me all about it andpossibly I may be of service to you. I have helped a good many youngmen through adventures that looked difficult enough beforehand. Perhaps you may have heard of me. I have more names than one, but thename of Quicksilver suits me as well as any other. Tell me what thetrouble is and we will talk the matter over and see what can be done. "

The stranger's words and manner put Perseus into quite a differentmood from his former one. He resolved to tell Quicksilver all hisdifficulties, since he could not easily be worse off than he alreadywas, and, very possibly, his new friend might give him some advicethat would turn out well in the end. So he let the stranger know infew words precisely what was the case--how the King Polydectes wantedthe head of Medusa with the snaky locks as a bridal gift for thebeautiful Princess Hippodamia and how that he had undertaken to get itfor him, but was afraid of being turned into stone. 

"And that would be a great pity, " said Quicksilver, with hismischievous smile. "You would make a very handsome marble statue, itis true, and it would be a considerable number of centuries before youcrumbled away; but, on the whole, one would rather be a young man fora few years than a stone image for a great many. "

"Oh, far rather!" exclaimed Perseus, with the tears again standing inhis eyes. "And, besides, what would my dear mother do if her belovedson were turned into a stone?"

"Well, well, let us hope that the affair will not turn out so verybadly, " replied Quicksilver in an encouraging tone. "I am the veryperson to help you, if anybody can. My sister and myself will do ourutmost to bring you safe through the adventure, ugly as it now looks. "

"Your sister?" repeated Perseus. 

"Yes, my sister, " said the stranger. "She is very wise, I promiseyou; and as for myself, I generally have all my wits about me, such asthey are. If you show yourself bold and cautious, and follow ouradvice, you need not fear being a stone image yet awhile. But, firstof all, you must polish your shield till you can see your face in itas distinctly as in a mirror. "

This seemed to Perseus rather an odd beginning of the adventure, forhe thought it of far more consequence that the shield should be strongenough to defend him from the Gorgon's brazen claws than that itshould be bright enough to show him the reflection of his face. However, concluding that Quicksilver knew better than himself, heimmediately set to work and scrubbed the shield with so much diligenceand good will that it very quickly shone like the moon at harvesttime. Quicksilver looked at it with a smile and nodded hisapprobation. Then taking off his own short and crooked sword, hegirded it about Perseus, instead of the one which he had before worn. 

"No sword but mine will answer your purpose, " observed he; "the bladehas a most excellent temper and will cut through iron and brass aseasily as through the slenderest twig. And now we will set out. Thenext thing is to find the Three Gray Women, who will tell us where tofind the Nymphs. "

"The Three Gray Women!" cried Perseus, to whom this seemed only a newdifficulty in the path of his adventure. "Pray, who may the Three GrayWomen be? I never heard of them before. "

"They are three very strange old ladies, " said Quicksilver, laughing. "They have but one eye among them, and only one tooth. Moreover, youmust find them out by starlight or in the dusk of the evening, forthey never show themselves by the light either of the sun or moon. "

"But, " said Perseus, "why should I waste my time with these ThreeGray Women? Would it not be better to set out at once in search of theterrible Gorgons?"

"No, no, " answered his friend. "There are other things to be donebefore you can find your way to the Gorgons. There is nothing for itbut to hunt up these old ladies; and when we meet with them, you maybe sure that the Gorgons are not a great way off. Come, let us bestirring!"

Perseus by this time felt so much confidence in his companion'ssagacity that he made no more objections, and professed himself readyto begin the adventure immediately. They accordingly set out andwalked at a pretty brisk pace; so brisk, indeed, that Perseus found itrather difficult to keep up with his nimble friend Quicksilver. To saythe truth, he had a singular idea that Quicksilver was furnished witha pair of winged shoes, which, of course, helped him alongmarvelously. And then, too, when Perseus looked sideways at him out ofthe corner of his eye, he seemed to see wings on the side of his head;although, if he turned a full gaze, there were no such things to beperceived, but only an odd kind of cap. But at all events, the twistedstaff was evidently a great convenience to Quicksilver, and enabledhim to proceed so fast that Perseus, though a remarkably active youngman, began to be out of breath. 

"Here!" cried Quicksilver at last--for he knew well enough, rogue thathe was, how hard Perseus found it to keep pace with him--"take you thestaff, for you need it a great deal more than I. Are there no betterwalkers than yourself in the island of Seriphus?"

"I could walk pretty well, " said Perseus, glancing slyly at hiscompanion's feet, "if I had only a pair of winged shoes. "

"We must see about getting you a pair, " answered Quicksilver. 

But the staff helped Perseus along so bravely that he no longer feltthe slightest weariness. In fact, the stick seemed to be alive in hishand and to lend some of its life to Perseus. He and Quicksilver nowwalked onward at their ease, talking very sociably together; andQuicksilver told so many pleasant stories about his former adventuresand how well his wits had served him on various occasions that Perseusbegan to think him a very wonderful person. He evidently knew theworld; and nobody is so charming to a young man as a friend who hasthat kind of knowledge. Perseus listened the more eagerly, in the hopeof brightening his own wits by what he heard. 

At last, he happened to recollect that Quicksilver had spoken of asister who was to lend her assistance in the adventure which they werenow bound upon. 

"Where is she?" he inquired. "Shall we not meet her soon?"

"All at the proper time, " said his companion. "But this sister ofmine, you must understand, is quite a different sort of character frommyself. She is very grave and prudent, seldom smiles, never laughs andmakes it a rule not to utter a word unless she has somethingparticularly profound to say. Neither will she listen to any but thewisest conversation. "

"Dear me!" ejaculated Perseus; "I shall be afraid to say a syllable. "

"She is a very accomplished person, I assure you, " continuedQuicksilver, "and has all the arts and science at her fingers' ends. In short, she is so immoderately wise that many people call her wisdompersonified. But to tell you the truth, she has hardly vivacity enoughfor my taste; and I think you would scarcely find her so pleasant atraveling companion as myself. She has her good points, nevertheless;and you will find the benefit of them in your encounter with theGorgons. "

By this time it had grown quite dusk. They were now come to a verywild and desert place, overgrown with shaggy bushes and so silent andsolitary that nobody seemed ever to have dwelt or journeyed there. Allwas waste and desolate in the gray twilight, which grew every momentmore obscure. Perseus looked about him rather disconsolately and askedQuicksilver whether they had a great deal farther to go. 

"Hist! hist!" whispered his companion. "Make no noise! This is justthe time and place to meet the Three Gray Women. Be careful that theydo not see you before you see them, for though they have but a singleeye among the three, it is as sharp-sighted as half a dozen commoneyes. "

"But what must I do, " asked Perseus, "when we meet them?"

Quicksilver explained to Perseus how the Three Gray Women managed withtheir one eye. They were in the habit, it seems, of changing it fromone to another, as if it had been a pair of spectacles, or--whichwould have suited them better--a quizzing glass. When one of the threehad kept the eye a certain time, she took it out of the socket andpassed it to one of her sisters, whose turn it might happen to be, andwho immediately clapped it into her own head and enjoyed a peep at thevisible world. Thus it will easily be understood that only one of theThree Gray Women could see, while the other two were in utterdarkness; and, moreover, at the instant when the eye was passing fromhand to hand, none of the poor old ladies was able to see a wink. Ihave heard of a great many strange things in my day, and havewitnessed not a few, but none, it seems to me, that can compare withthe oddity of these Three Gray Women all peeping through a single eye. 

So thought Perseus, likewise, and was so astonished that he almostfancied his companion was joking with him, and that there were no suchold women in the world. 

"You will soon find whether I tell the truth or no, " observedQuicksilver. "Hark! hush! hist! hist! There they come now!"

Perseus looked earnestly through the dusk of the evening, and there, sure enough, at no great distance off, he descried the Three GrayWomen. The light being so faint, he could not well make out what sortof figures they were; only he discovered that they had long gray hair, and as they came nearer he saw that two of them had but the emptysocket of an eye in the middle of their foreheads. But in the middleof the third sister's forehead there was a very large, bright andpiercing eye, which sparkled like a great diamond in a ring; and sopenetrating did it seem to be that Perseus could not help thinking itmust possess the gift of seeing in the darkest midnight just asperfectly as at noonday. The sight of three persons' eyes was meltedand collected into that single one. 

Thus the three old dames got along about as comfortably, upon thewhole, as if they could all see at once. She who chanced to have theeye in her forehead led the other two by the hands, peeping sharplyabout her all the while; insomuch that Perseus dreaded lest she shouldsee right through the thick clump of bushes behind which he andQuicksilver had hidden themselves. My stars! it was positivelyterrible to be within reach of so very sharp an eye!

But before they reached the clump of bushes, one of the Three GrayWomen spoke. 

"Sister! Sister Scarecrow!" cried she, "you have had the eye longenough. It is my turn now!"

"Let me keep it a moment longer, Sister Nightmare, " answeredScarecrow. "I thought I had a glimpse of something behind that thickbush. "

"Well, and what of that?" retorted Nightmare, peevishly. "Can't I seeinto a thick bush as easily as yourself? The eye is mine as well asyours; and I know the use of it as well as you, or maybe a littlebetter. I insist upon taking a peep immediately!"

But here the third sister, whose name was Shakejoint, began tocomplain, and said that it was her turn to have the eye, and thatScarecrow and Nightmare wanted to keep it all to themselves. To endthe dispute, old Dame Scarecrow took the eye out of her forehead andheld it forth in her hand. 

"Take it, one of you, " cried she, "and quit this foolish quarreling. For my part, I shall be glad of a little thick darkness. Take itquickly, however, or I must clap it into my own head again!"

Accordingly, both Nightmare and Shakejoint put out their hands, groping eagerly to snatch the eye out of the hand of Scarecrow. Butbeing both alike blind, they could not easily find where Scarecrow'shand was; and Scarecrow, being now just as much in the dark asShakejoint and Nightmare, could not at once meet either of their handsin order to put the eye into it. Thus (as you will see with half aneye, my wise little auditors) these good old dames had fallen into astrange perplexity. For, though the eye shone and glistened like astar as Scarecrow held it out, yet the Gray Women caught not the leastglimpse of its light and were all three in utter darkness from tooimpatient a desire to see. 

Quicksilver was so much tickled at beholding Shakejoint and Nightmareboth groping for the eye, and each finding fault with Scarecrow andone another, that he could scarcely help laughing aloud. 

"Now is your time!" he whispered to Perseus. "Quick, quick! beforethey can clap the eye into either of their heads. Rush out upon theold ladies and snatch it from Scarecrow's hand!"

In an instant, while the Three Gray Women were still scolding eachother, Perseus leaped from behind the clump of bushes and made himselfmaster of the prize. The marvelous eye, as he held it in his hand, shone very brightly, and seemed to look up into his face with aknowing air, and an expression as if it would have winked had it beenprovided with a pair of eyelids for that purpose. But the Gray Womenknew nothing of what had happened, and each supposing that one of hersisters was in possession of the eye, they began their quarrel anew. At last, as Perseus did not wish to put these respectable dames togreater inconvenience than was really necessary, he thought it rightto explain the matter. 

"My good ladies, " said he, "pray do not be angry with one another. Ifanybody is in fault, it is myself; for I have the honor to hold yourvery brilliant and excellent eye in my own hand!"

"You! you have our eye! And who are you?" screamed the Three GrayWomen all in a breath; for they were terribly frightened, of course, at hearing a strange voice and discovering that their eyesight had gotinto the hands of they could not guess whom. "Oh, what shall we do, sisters? what shall we do? We are all in the dark! Give us our eye!Give us our one precious, solitary eye! You have two of your own! Giveus our eye!"

"Tell them, " whispered Quicksilver to Perseus, "that they shall haveback the eye as soon as they direct you where to find the Nymphs whohave the flying slippers, the magic wallet and the helmet ofdarkness. "

"My dear, good, admirable old ladies, " said Perseus, addressing theGray Women, "there is no occasion for putting yourselves into such afright. I am by no means a bad young man. You shall have back youreye, safe and sound, and as bright as ever, the moment you tell mewhere to find the Nymphs. "

"The Nymphs! Goodness me! sisters, what Nymphs does he mean?" screamedScarecrow. "There are a great many Nymphs, people say; some that go ahunting in the woods, and some that live inside of trees, and some thathave a comfortable home in fountains of water. We know nothing at allabout them. We are three unfortunate old souls that go wandering aboutin the dusk and never had but one eye amongst us, and that one you havestolen away. Oh, give it back, good stranger!--whoever you are, give itback!"

All this while the Three Gray Women were groping with theiroutstretched hands and trying their utmost to get hold of Perseus. Buthe took good care to keep out of their reach. 

"My respectable dames, " said he--for his mother had taught him alwaysto use the greatest civility--"I hold your eye fast in my hand andshall keep it safely for you until you please to tell me where to findthese Nymphs. The Nymphs, I mean, who keep the enchanted wallet, theflying slippers and the what is it?--the helmet of invisibility. "

"Mercy on us, sisters! what is the young man talking about?" exclaimedScarecrow, Nightmare and Shakejoint, one to another, with greatappearance of astonishment. "A pair of flying slippers, quoth he! Hisheels would quickly fly higher than his head if he was silly enough toput them on. And a helmet of invisibility! How could a helmet make himinvisible, unless it were big enough for him to hide under it? And anenchanted wallet! What sort of a contrivance may that be, I wonder?No, no, good stranger! we can tell you nothing of these marvelousthings. You have two eyes of your own and we have but a single oneamongst us three. You can find out such wonders better than threeblind old creatures like us. "

Perseus, hearing them talk in this way, began really to think that theGray Women knew nothing of the matter; and, as it grieved him to putthem to so much trouble, he was just on the point of restoring theireye and asking pardon for his rudeness in snatching it away. ButQuicksilver caught his hand. 

"Don't let them make a fool of you!" said he. "These Three Gray Womenare the only persons in the world that can tell you where to find theNymphs, and unless you get that information you will never succeed incutting off the head of Medusa with the snaky locks. Keep fast hold onthe eye and all will go well. "

As it turned out, Quicksilver was in the right. There are but fewthings that people prize so much as they do their eyesight; and theGray Women valued their single eye as highly as if it had been half adozen, which was the number they ought to have had. Finding that therewas no other way of recovering it, they at last told Perseus what hewanted to know. No sooner had they done so than he immediately andwith the utmost respect clapped the eye into the vacant socket in oneof their foreheads, thanked them for their kindness and bade themfarewell. Before the young man was out of hearing, however, they hadgot into a new dispute, because he happened to have given the eye toScarecrow, who had already taken her turn of it when their troublewith Perseus commenced. 

It is greatly to be feared that the Three Gray Women were very much inthe habit of disturbing their mutual harmony by bickerings of thissort, which was the more pity, as they could not conveniently dowithout one another and were evidently intended to be inseparablecompanions. As a general rule, I would advise all people, whethersisters or brothers, old or young, who chance to have but one eyeamongst them, to cultivate forbearance and not all insist upon peepingthrough it at once. 

Quicksilver and Perseus, in the meantime, were making the best oftheir way in quest of the Nymphs. The old dames had given them suchparticular directions that they were not long in finding them out. They proved to be very different persons from Nightmare, Shakejointand Scarecrow; for, instead of being old, they were young andbeautiful; and instead of one eye amongst the sisterhood, each Nymphhad two exceedingly bright eyes of her own, with which she looked verykindly at Perseus. They seemed to be acquainted with Quicksilver, andwhen he told them the adventure which Perseus had undertaken, theymade no difficulty about giving him the valuable articles that were intheir custody. In the first place, they brought out what appeared tobe a small purse, made of deer skin and curiously embroidered, andbade him be sure and keep it safe. This was the magic wallet. TheNymphs next produced a pair of shoes or slippers or sandals, with anice little pair of wings at the heel of each. 

"Put them on, Perseus, " said Quicksilver. "You will find yourself aslight-heeled as you can desire for the remainder of our journey. "

So Perseus proceeded to put one of the slippers on, while he laid theother on the ground by his side. Unexpectedly, however, this otherslipper spread its wings, fluttered up off the ground and wouldprobably have flown away if Quicksilver had not made a leap andluckily caught it in the air. 

"Be more careful, " said he as he gave it back to Perseus. "It wouldfrighten the birds up aloft if they should see a flying slipperamongst them. "

When Perseus had got on both of these wonderful slippers, he wasaltogether too buoyant to tread on earth. Making a step or two, lo andbehold! upward he popped into the air high above the heads ofQuicksilver and the Nymphs, and found it very difficult to clamberdown again. Winged slippers and all such high-flying contrivances areseldom quite easy to manage until one grows a little accustomed tothem. Quicksilver laughed at his companion's involuntary activity andtold him that he must not be in so desperate a hurry, but must waitfor the invisible helmet. 

The good-natured Nymphs had the helmet, with its dark tuft of wavingplumes, all in readiness to put upon his head. And now there happenedabout as wonderful an incident as anything that I have yet told you. The instant before the helmet was put on, there stood Perseus, abeautiful young man, with golden ringlets and rosy cheeks, the crookedsword by his side and the brightly polished shield upon his arm--afigure that seemed all made up of courage, sprightliness and gloriouslight. But when the helmet had descended over his white brow, therewas no longer any Perseus to be seen! Nothing but empty air! Even thehelmet that covered him with its invisibility had vanished!

"Where are you, Perseus?" asked Quicksilver. 

"Why, here, to be sure!" answered Perseus very quietly, although hisvoice seemed to come out of the transparent atmosphere. "Just where Iwas a moment ago. Don't you see me?"

"No, indeed!" answered his friend. "You are hidden under the helmet. But if I cannot see you, neither can the Gorgons. Follow me, therefore, and we will try your dexterity in using the wingedslippers. "

With these words, Quicksilver's cap spread its wings, as if his headwere about to fly away from his shoulders; but his whole figure roselightly into the air and Perseus followed. By the time they hadascended a few hundred feet the young man began to feel what adelightful thing it was to leave the dull earth so far beneath him andto be able to flit about like a bird. 

It was now deep night. Perseus looked upward and saw the round, bright, silvery moon and thought that he should desire nothing betterthan to soar up thither and spend his life there. Then he lookeddownward again and saw the earth, with its seas and lakes, and thesilver course of its rivers, and its snowy mountain peaks, and thebreath of its fields, and the dark cluster of its woods, and itscities of white marble; and with the moonshine sleeping over the wholescene, it was as beautiful as the moon or any star could be. And amongother objects he saw the island of Seriphus, where his dear motherwas. Sometimes he and Quicksilver approached a cloud that at adistance looked as if it were made of fleecy silver, although whenthey plunged into it they found themselves chilled and moistened withgray mist. So swift was their flight, however, that in an instant theyemerged from the cloud into the moonlight again. Once a high-soaringeagle flew right against the invisible Perseus. The bravest sightswere the meteors that gleamed suddenly out as if a bonfire had beenkindled in the sky and made the moonshine pale for as much as ahundred miles around them. 

As the two companions flew onward, Perseus fancied that he could hearthe rustle of a garment close by his side; and it was on the sideopposite to the one where he beheld Quicksilver, yet only Quicksilverwas visible. 

"Whose garment is this, " inquired Perseus, "that keeps rustling closebeside me in the breeze?"

"Oh, it is my sister's!" answered Quicksilver. "She is coming alongwith us, as I told you she would. We could do nothing without the helpof my sister. You have no idea how wise she is. She has such eyes, too! Why, she can see you at this moment just as distinctly as if youwere not invisible, and I'll venture to say she will be the first todiscover the Gorgons. "

By this time, in their swift voyage through the air, they had comewithin sight of the great ocean and were soon flying over it. Farbeneath them the waves tossed themselves tumultuously in mid-sea, orrolled a white surf line upon the long beaches, or foamed against therocky cliffs, with a roar that was thunderous in the lower world, although it became a gentle murmur, like the voice of a baby halfasleep, before it reached the ears of Perseus. Just then a voice spokein the air close by him. It seemed to be a woman's voice and wasmelodious, though not exactly what might be called sweet, but graveand mild. 

"Perseus, " said the voice, "there are the Gorgons. "

"Where?" exclaimed Perseus. "I cannot see them. "

"On the shore of that island beneath you, " replied the voice. "Apebble dropped from your hand would strike in the midst of them. "

"I told you she would be the first to discover them, " said Quicksilverto Perseus. "And there they are!"

Straight downward, two or three thousand feet below him, Perseusperceived a small island, with the sea breaking into white foam allaround its rocky shore, except on one side, where there was a beach ofsnowy sand. He descended toward it, and looking earnestly at a clusteror heap of brightness at the foot of a precipice of black rocks, behold, there were the terrible Gorgons! They lay fast asleep, soothedby the thunder of the sea; for it required a tumult that would havedeafened everybody else to lull such fierce creatures into slumber. The moonlight glistened on their steely scales and on their goldenwings, which drooped idly over the sand. Their brazen claws, horribleto look at, were thrust out and clutched the wave-beaten fragments ofrock, while the sleeping Gorgons dreamed of tearing some poor mortalall to pieces. The snakes that served them instead of hair seemedlikewise to be asleep, although now and then one would writhe andlift its head and thrust out its forked tongue, emitting a drowsyhiss, and then let itself subside among its sister snakes. 

The Gorgons were more like an awful, gigantic kind of insect--immense, golden-winged beetles or dragonflies or things of that sort--at onceugly and beautiful--than like anything else; only that they were athousand and a million times as big. And with all this there wassomething partly human about them, too. Luckily for Perseus, theirfaces were completely hidden from him by the posture in which theylay, for had he but looked one instant at them, he would have fallenheavily out of the air, an image of senseless stone. 

"Now, " whispered Quicksilver as he hovered by the side ofPerseus--"now is your time to do the deed! Be quick, for if one of theGorgons should awake, you are too late!"

"Which shall I strike at?" asked Perseus, drawing his sword anddescending a little lower. "They all three look alike. All three havesnaky locks. Which of the three is Medusa?"

It must be understood that Medusa was the only one of these dragonmonsters whose head Perseus could possibly cut off. As for the othertwo, let him have the sharpest sword that ever was forged, and hemight have hacked away by the hour together without doing them theleast harm. 

"Be cautious, " said the calm voice which had before spoken to him. "One of the Gorgons is stirring in her sleep and is just about to turnover. That is Medusa. Do not look at her! The sight would turn you tostone! Look at the reflection of her face and figure in the brightmirror of your shield. "

[Illustration: PERSEUS SLAYING THE MEDUSA]

Perseus now understood Quicksilver's motive for so earnestly exhortinghim to polish his shield. In its surface he could safely look at thereflection of the Gorgon's face. And there it was--that terriblecountenance--mirrored in the brightness of the shield, with themoonlight falling over it and displaying all its horror. The snakes, whose venomous natures could not altogether sleep, kept twistingthemselves over the forehead. It was the fiercest and most horribleface that ever was seen or imagined, and yet with a strange, fearfuland savage kind of beauty in it. The eyes were closed and the Gorgonwas still in a deep slumber; but there was an unquiet expressiondisturbing her features, as if the monster was troubled with an uglydream. She gnashed her white tusks and dug into the sand with herbrazen claws. 

The snakes, too, seemed to feel Medusa's dream and to be made morerestless by it. They twined themselves into tumultuous knots, writhedfiercely and uplifted a hundred hissing heads without opening theireyes. 

"Now, now!" whispered Quicksilver, who was growing impatient. "Make adash at the monster!"

"But be calm, " said the grave, melodious voice at the young man'sside. "Look in your shield as you fly downward, and take care that youdo not miss your first stroke. "

Perseus flew cautiously downward, still keeping his eyes on Medusa'sface, as reflected in his shield. The nearer he came, the moreterrible did the snaky visage and metallic body of the monster grow. At last, when he found himself hovering over her within arm's length, Perseus uplifted his sword, while at the same instant each separatesnake upon the Gorgon's head stretched threateningly upward, andMedusa unclosed her eyes. But she awoke too late. The sword was sharp, the stroke fell like a lightning flash, and the head of the wickedMedusa tumbled from her body!

"Admirably done!" cried Quicksilver. "Make haste and clap the headinto your magic wallet. "

To the astonishment of Perseus, the small, embroidered wallet which hehad hung about his neck and which had hitherto been no bigger than apurse, grew all at once large enough to contain Medusa's head. Asquick as thought, he snatched it up, with the snakes still writhingupon it, and thrust it in. 

"Your task is done, " said the calm voice. "Now fly, for the otherGorgons will do their utmost to take vengeance for Medusa's death. "

It was, indeed, necessary to take flight, for Perseus had not done thedeed so quietly but that the clash of his sword and the hissing of thesnakes and the thump of Medusa's head as it tumbled upon thesea-beaten sand awoke the other two monsters. There they sat for aninstant, sleepily rubbing their eyes with their brazen fingers, whileall the snakes on their heads reared themselves on end with surpriseand with venomous malice against they knew not what. But when theGorgons saw the scaly carcass of Medusa, headless, and her goldenwings all ruffled and half spread out on the sand, it was really awfulto hear what yells and screeches they set up. And then the snakes!They sent forth a hundredfold hiss with one consent, and Medusa'ssnakes answered them out of the magic wallet. 

No sooner were the Gorgons broad awake than they hurtled upward intothe air, brandishing their brass talons, gnashing their horrible tusksand flapping their huge wings so wildly that some of the goldenfeathers were shaken out and floated down upon the shore. And there, perhaps, those very feathers lie scattered till this day. Up rose theGorgons, as I tell you, staring horribly about, in hopes of turningsomebody to stone. Had Perseus looked them in the face or had hefallen into their clutches, his poor mother would never have kissedher boy again! But he took good care to turn his eyes another way; andas he wore the helmet of invisibility, the Gorgons knew not in whatdirection to follow him; nor did he fail to make the best use of thewinged slippers by soaring upward a perpendicular mile or so. At thatheight, when the screams of those abominable creatures sounded faintlybeneath him, he made a straight course for the island of Seriphus, inorder to carry Medusa's head to King Polydectes. 

I have no time to tell you of several marvelous things that befellPerseus on his way homeward, such as his killing a hideous sea monsterjust as it was on the point of devouring a beautiful maiden, nor howhe changed an enormous giant into a mountain of stone merely byshowing him the head of the Gorgon. If you doubt this latter story, you may make a voyage to Africa some day or other and see the verymountain, which is still known by the ancient giant's name. 

Finally, our brave Perseus arrived at the island where he expected tosee his dear mother. But during his absence, the wicked king hadtreated Danaë so very ill that she was compelled to make her escape, and had taken refuge in a temple, where some good old priests wereextremely kind to her. These praiseworthy priests and the kind-heartedfisherman, who had first shown hospitality to Danaë and little Perseuswhen he found them afloat in the chest, seem to have been the onlypersons on the island who cared about doing right. All the rest of thepeople, as well as King Polydectes himself, were remarkably illbehaved and deserved no better destiny than that which was now tohappen. 

Not finding his mother at home, Perseus went straight to the palaceand was immediately ushered into the presence of the king. Polydecteswas by no means rejoiced to see him, for he had felt almost certain, in his own evil mind, that the Gorgons would have torn the poor youngman to pieces and have eaten him up out of the way. However, seeinghim safely returned, he put the best face he could upon the matter andasked Perseus how he had succeeded. 

"Have you performed your promise?" inquired he. "Have you brought methe head of Medusa with the snaky locks? If not, young man, it willcost you dear; for I must have a bridal present for the beautifulPrincess Hippodamia and there is nothing else that she would admire somuch. "

"Yes, please your Majesty, " answered Perseus, in a quiet way, as if itwere no very wonderful deed for such a young man as he to perform. "Ihave brought you the Gorgon's head, snaky locks and all!"

"Indeed! Pray, let me see it, " quoth King Polydectes. "It must be avery curious spectacle if all that travelers tell it be true!"

"Your Majesty is in the right, " replied Perseus. "It is really anobject that will be pretty certain to fix the regards of all who lookat it. And if your Majesty think fit, I would suggest that a holidaybe proclaimed and that all your Majesty's subjects be summoned tobehold this wonderful curiosity. Few of them, I imagine, have seen aGorgon's head before and perhaps never may again!"

The king well knew that his subjects were an idle set of reprobatesand very fond of sight-seeing, as idle persons usually are. So he tookthe young man's advice and sent out heralds and messengers in alldirections to blow the trumpet at the street corners and in the marketplaces and wherever two roads met, and summon everybody to court. Thither, accordingly, came a great multitude of good-for-nothingvagabonds, all of whom, out of pure love of mischief, would have beenglad if Perseus had met with some ill-hap in his encounter with theGorgons. If there were any better people in the island (as I reallyhope there may have been, although the story tells nothing about anysuch), they stayed quietly at home, minding their business and takingcare of their little children. Most of the inhabitants, at all events, ran as fast as they could to the palace and shoved and pushed andelbowed one another in their eagerness to get near a balcony on whichPerseus showed himself, holding the embroidered wallet in his hand. 

On a platform within full view of the balcony sat the mighty KingPolydectes, amid his evil counselors, and with his flatteringcourtiers in a semi-circle round about him. Monarch, counselors, courtiers and subjects all gazed eagerly toward Perseus. 

"Show us the head! Show us the head!" shouted the people; and therewas a fierceness in their cry as if they would tear Perseus to piecesunless he should satisfy them with what he had to show. "Show us thehead of Medusa with the snaky locks!"

A feeling of sorrow and pity came over the youthful Perseus. 

"O King Polydectes, " cried he, "and ye many people, I am very loath toshow you the Gorgon's head!"

"Ah, the villain and coward!" yelled the people more fiercely thanbefore. "He is making game of us! He has no Gorgon's head! Show us thehead if you have it, or we will take your own head for a football!"

The evil counselors whispered bad advice in the king's ear; thecourtiers murmured, with one consent, that Perseus had showndisrespect to their royal lord and master; and the great KingPolydectes himself waved his hand and ordered him, with the stern, deep voice of authority, on his peril, to produce the head. 

"Show me the Gorgon's head or I will cut off your own!"

And Perseus sighed. 

"This instant, " repeated Polydectes, "or you die!"

"Behold it then!" cried Perseus in a voice like the blast of atrumpet. 

And suddenly holding up the head, not an eyelid had time to winkbefore the wicked King Polydectes, his evil counselors and all hisfierce subjects were no longer anything but the mere images of amonarch and his people. They were all fixed forever in the look andattitude of that moment! At the first glimpse of the terrible head ofMedusa, they whitened into marble! And Perseus thrust the head backinto his wallet and went to tell his dear mother that she need nolonger be afraid of the wicked King Polydectes. 

THE GOLDEN FLEECE

When Jason, the son of the dethroned King of Iolchos, was a littleboy, he was sent away from his parents and placed under the queerestschoolmaster that ever you heard of. This learned person was one ofthe people, or quadrupeds, called Centaurs. He lived in a cavern, andhad the body and legs of a white horse, with the head and shoulders ofa man. His name was Chiron; and in spite of his odd appearance, he wasa very excellent teacher and had several scholars who afterward didhim credit by making a great figure in the world. The famous Herculeswas one, and so was Achilles, and Philoctetes likewise, andÆsculapius, who acquired immense repute as a doctor. The good Chirontaught his pupils how to play upon the harp, and how to cure diseases, and how to use the sword and shield, together with various otherbranches of education in which the lads of those days used to beinstructed instead of writing and arithmetic. 

I have sometimes suspected that Master Chiron was not really verydifferent from other people, but that, being a kind-hearted and merryold fellow, he was in the habit of making believe that he was a horse, and scrambling about the schoolroom on all fours and letting thelittle boys ride upon his back. And so, when his scholars had grown upand grown old and were trotting their grandchildren on their knees, they told them about the sports of their school-days; and these youngfolks took the idea that their grandfathers had been taught theirletters by a Centaur, half man and half horse. Little children, notquite understanding what is said to them, often get such absurdnotions into their heads, you know. 

Be that as it may, it has always been told for a fact (and alwayswill be told, as long as the world lasts) that Chiron, with the headof a schoolmaster, had the body and legs of a horse. Just imagine thegrave old gentleman clattering and stamping into the schoolroom on hisfour hoofs, perhaps treading on some little fellow's toes, flourishinghis switch tail instead of a rod and now and then trotting out ofdoors to eat a mouthful of grass! I wonder what the blacksmith chargedhim for a set of iron shoes. 

So Jason dwelt in the cave, with this four-footed Chiron from the timethat he was an infant only a few months old, until he had grown to thefull height of a man. He became a very good harper, I suppose, andskilful in the use of weapons and tolerably acquainted with herbs andother doctor's stuff, and above all, an admirable horseman; for, inteaching young people to ride, the good Chiron must have been withouta rival among schoolmasters. At length, being now a tall and athleticyouth, Jason resolved to seek his fortune in the world without askingChiron's advice or telling him anything about the matter. This wasvery unwise, to be sure; and I hope none of you, my little hearers, will ever follow Jason's example. But, you are to understand, he hadheard how that he himself was a prince royal, and how his father, KingÆson, had been deprived of the kingdom of Iolchos by a certain Pelias, who would also have killed Jason had he not been hidden in theCentaur's cave. And being come to the strength of a man, Jasondetermined to set all this business to rights and to punish the wickedPelias for wronging his dear father, and to cast him down from thethrone and seat himself there instead. 

With this intention he took a spear in each hand and threw a leopard'sskin over his shoulders to keep off the rain, and set forth on histravels, with his long yellow ringlets waving in the wind. The partof his dress on which he most prided himself was a pair of sandalsthat had been his father's. They were handsomely embroidered and weretied upon his feet with strings of gold. But his whole attire was suchas people did not very often see; and as he passed along, the womenand children ran to the doors and windows, wondering whither thisbeautiful youth was journeying, with his leopard's skin and hisgolden-tied sandals, and what heroic deeds he meant to perform, with aspear in his right hand and another in his left. 

I know not how far Jason had traveled when he came to a turbulentriver, which rushed right across his pathway with specks of white foamalong its black eddies, hurrying tumultuously onward and roaringangrily as it went. Though not a very broad river in the dry seasonsof the year, it was now swollen by heavy rains and by the melting ofthe snow on the sides of Mount Olympus; and it thundered so loudly andlooked so wild and dangerous that Jason, bold as he was, thought itprudent to pause upon the brink. The bed of the stream seemed to bestrewn with sharp and rugged rocks, some of which thrust themselvesabove the water. By and by an uprooted tree, with shattered branches, came drifting along the current and got entangled among the rocks. Nowand then a drowned sheep and once the carcass of a cow floated past. 

In short, the swollen river had already done a great deal of mischief. It was evidently too deep for Jason to wade and too boisterous for himto swim; he could see no bridge, and as for a boat, had there beenany, the rocks would have broken it to pieces in an instant. 

"See the poor lad, " said a cracked voice close to his side. "He musthave had but a poor education, since he does not know how to cross alittle stream like this. Or is he afraid of wetting his finegolden-stringed sandals? It is a pity his four-footed schoolmaster isnot here to carry him safely across on his back!"

Jason looked round greatly surprised, for he did not know that anybodywas near. But beside him stood an old woman, with a ragged mantle overher head, leaning on a staff, the top of which was carved into theshape of a cuckoo. She looked very aged and wrinkled and infirm; andyet her eyes, which were as brown as those of an ox, were so extremelylarge and beautiful that when they were fixed on Jason's eyes he couldsee nothing else but them. The old woman had a pomegranate in herhand, although the fruit was then quite out of season. 

"Whither are you going, Jason?" she now asked. 

She seemed to know his name, you will observe; and, indeed, thosegreat brown eyes looked as if they had a knowledge of everything, whether past or to come. While Jason was gazing at her a peacockstrutted forward and took his stand at the old woman's side. 

"I am going to Iolchos, " answered the young man, "to bid the wickedKing Pelias come down from my father's throne and let me reign in hisstead. "

"Ah, well, then, " said the old woman, still with the same crackedvoice, "if that is all your business, you need not be in a very greathurry. Just take me on your back, there's a good youth, and carry meacross the river. I and my peacock have something to do on the otherside, as well as yourself. "

"Good mother, " replied Jason, "your business can hardly be soimportant as the pulling down a king from his throne. Besides, as youmay see for yourself, the river is very boisterous; and if I shouldchance to stumble, it would sweep both of us away more easily than ithas carried off yonder uprooted tree. I would gladly help you if Icould, but I doubt whether I am strong enough to carry you across. "

"Then, " said she very scornfully, "neither are you strong enough topull King Pelias off his throne. And, Jason, unless you will help anold woman at her need, you ought not to be a king. What are kings madefor, save to succor the feeble and distressed? But do as you please. Either take me on your back, or with my poor old limbs I shall try mybest to struggle across the stream. "

Saying this, the old woman poked with her staff in the river as if tofind the safest place in its rocky bed where she might make the firststep. But Jason by this time had grown ashamed of his reluctance tohelp her. He felt that he could never forgive himself if this poorfeeble creature should come to any harm in attempting to wrestleagainst the headlong current. The good Chiron, whether half horse orno, had taught him that the noblest use of his strength was to assistthe weak; and also that he must treat every young woman as if she werehis sister and every old one like a mother. Remembering these maxims, the vigorous and beautiful young man knelt down and requested the gooddame to mount upon his back. 

"The passage seems to me not very safe, " he remarked, "but as yourbusiness is so urgent I will try to carry you across. If the riversweeps you away it shall take me, too. "

"That, no doubt, will be a great comfort to both of us, " quoth the oldwoman. "But never fear! We shall get safely across. "

So she threw her arms around Jason's neck; and, lifting her from theground, he stepped boldly into the raging and foamy current, and beganto stagger away from the shore. As for the peacock, it alighted on theold dame's shoulder. Jason's two spears, one in each hand, kept himfrom stumbling and enabled him to feel his way among the hiddenrocks; although every instant he expected that his companion andhimself would go down the stream together with the driftwood ofshattered trees and the carcasses of the sheep and cow. Down came thecold, snowy torrent from the steep side of Olympus, raging andthundering as if it had a real spite against Jason or, at all events, were determined to snatch off his living burden from his shoulders. When he was half way across the uprooted tree (which I have alreadytold you about) broke loose from among the rocks and bore down uponhim with all its splintered branches sticking out like the hundredarms of the giant Briareus. It rushed past, however, without touchinghim. But the next moment his foot was caught in a crevice between tworocks and stuck there so fast that in the effort to get free he lostone of his golden-stringed sandals. 

At this accident Jason could not help uttering a cry of vexation. 

"What is the matter, Jason?" asked the old woman. 

"Matter enough, " said the young man. "I have lost a sandal here amongthe rocks. And what sort of a figure shall I cut at the court of KingPelias with a golden-stringed sandal on one foot and the other footbare!"

"Do not take it to heart, " answered his companion cheerily. "You nevermet with better fortune than in losing that sandal. It satisfies methat you are the very person whom the Speaking Oak has been talkingabout. "

There was no time just then to inquire what the Speaking Oak had said. But the briskness of her tone encouraged the young man; and, besides, he had never in his life felt so vigorous and mighty as since takingthis old woman on his back. Instead of being exhausted he gatheredstrength as he went on; and, struggling up against the torrent, he atlast gained the opposite shore, clambered up the bank and set downthe old dame and her peacock safely on the grass. As soon as this wasdone, however, he could not help looking rather despondently at hisbare foot, with only a remnant of the golden string of the sandalclinging round his ankle. 

"You will get a handsomer pair of sandals by and by, " said the oldwoman, with a kindly look out of her beautiful brown eyes. "Only letKing Pelias get a glimpse of that bare foot and you shall see him turnas pale as ashes, I promise you. There is your path. Go along, my goodJason, and my blessing go with you. And when you sit on your throneremember the old woman whom you helped over the river. "

With these words she hobbled away, giving him a smile over hershoulder as she departed. Whether the light of her beautiful browneyes threw a glory round about her, or whatever the cause might be, Jason fancied that there was something very noble and majestic in herfigure after all, and that, though her gait seemed to be a rheumatichobble, yet she moved with as much grace and dignity as any queen onearth. Her peacock, which had now fluttered down from her shoulder, strutted behind her in prodigious pomp and spread out its magnificenttail on purpose for Jason to admire it. 

When the old dame and her peacock were out of sight Jason set forwardon his journey. After traveling a pretty long distance he came to atown situated at the foot of a mountain and not a great way from theshore of the sea. On the outside of the town there was an immensecrowd of people, not only men and women, but children, too, all intheir best clothes and evidently enjoying a holiday. The crowd wasthickest toward the seashore, and in that direction, over the people'sheads, Jason saw a wreath of smoke curling upward to the blue sky. Heinquired of one of the multitude what town it was near by and why somany persons were here assembled together. 

"This is the kingdom of Iolchos, " answered the man, "and we are thesubjects of King Pelias. Our monarch has summoned us together, that wemay see him sacrifice a black bull to Neptune, who, they say, is hismajesty's father. Yonder is the king, where you see the smoke going upfrom the altar. "

While the man spoke he eyed Jason with great curiosity; for his garbwas quite unlike that of the Iolchians, and it looked very odd to seea youth with a leopard's skin over his shoulders and each handgrasping a spear. Jason perceived, too, that the man staredparticularly at his feet, one of which, you remember, was bare, whilethe other was decorated with his father's golden-stringed sandal. 

"Look at him! only look at him!" said the man to his next neighbor. "Do you see? He wears but one sandal!"

Upon this, first one person and then another began to stare at Jason, and everybody seemed to be greatly struck with something in hisaspect; though they turned their eyes much oftener toward his feetthan to any other part of his figure. Besides, he could hear themwhispering to one another. 

"One sandal! One sandal!" they kept saying. "The man with one sandal!Here he is at last! Whence has he come? What does he mean to do? Whatwill the king say to the one-sandaled man?"

Poor Jason was greatly abashed and made up his mind that the people ofIolchos were exceedingly ill-bred to take such public notice of anaccidental deficiency in his dress. Meanwhile, whether it were thatthey hustled him forward or that Jason of his own accord thrust apassage through the crowd, it so happened that he soon found himselfclose to the smoking altar, where King Pelias was sacrificing theblack bull. The murmur and hum of the multitude, in their surprise atthe spectacle of Jason with his one bare foot, grew so loud that itdisturbed the ceremonies; and the king, holding the great knife withwhich he was just going to cut the bull's throat, turned angrily aboutand fixed his eyes on Jason. The people had now withdrawn from aroundhim, so that the youth stood in an open space, near the smoking altar, front to front with the angry King Pelias. 

"Who are you?" cried the king, with a terrible frown. "And how dareyou make this disturbance, while I am sacrificing a black bull to myfather Neptune?"

"It is no fault of mine, " answered Jason. "Your majesty must blame therudeness of your subjects, who have raised all this tumult because oneof my feet happens to be bare. "

When Jason said this the king gave a quick, startled glance at hisfeet. 

"Ha!" muttered he, "here is the one-sandaled fellow, sure enough! Whatcan I do with him?"

And he clutched more closely the great knife in his hand, as if hewere half a mind to slay Jason instead of the black bull. The peopleround about caught up the king's words, indistinctly as they wereuttered; and first there was a murmur among them and then a loudshout. 

"The one-sandaled man has come! The prophecy must be fulfilled!"

For you are to know that many years before King Pelias had been toldby the Speaking Oak of Dodona that a man with one sandal should casthim down from his throne. On this account he had given strict ordersthat nobody should ever come into his presence unless both sandalswere securely tied upon his feet; and he kept an officer in his palacewhose sole business it was to examine people's sandals and to supplythem with a new pair at the expense of the royal treasury as soon asthe old ones began to wear out. In the whole course of the king'sreign he had never been thrown into such a fright and agitation as bythe spectacle of poor Jason's bare foot. But as he was naturally abold and hard-hearted man, he soon took courage and began to considerin what way he might rid himself of this terrible one-sandaledstranger. 

"My good young man, " said King Pelias, taking the softest toneimaginable in order to throw Jason off his guard, "you are excessivelywelcome to my kingdom. Judging by your dress, you must have traveled along distance, for it is not the fashion to wear leopard-skins in thispart of the world. Pray, what may I call your name, and where did youreceive your education?"

"My name is Jason, " answered the young stranger. "Ever since myinfancy I have dwelt in the cave of Chiron the Centaur. He was myinstructor, and taught me music and horsemanship and how to curewounds, and likewise how to inflict wounds with my weapons!"

"I have heard of Chiron the schoolmaster, " replied King Pelias, "andhow that there is an immense deal of learning and wisdom in his head, although it happens to be set on a horse's body. It gives me greatdelight to see one of his scholars at my court. But to test how muchyou have profited under so excellent a teacher, will you allow me toask you a single question?"

"I do not pretend to be very wise, " said Jason; "but ask me what youplease and I will answer to the best of my ability. "

Now King Pelias meant cunningly to entrap the young man and to makehim say something that should be the cause of mischief and destructionto himself. So with a crafty and evil smile upon his face, he spoke asfollows:

"What would you do, brave Jason, " asked he, "if there were a man inthe world by whom, as you had reason to believe, you were doomed to beruined and slain--what would you do, I say, if that man stood beforeyou and in your power?"

When Jason saw the malice and wickedness which King Pelias could notprevent from gleaming out of his eyes, he probably guessed that theking had discovered what he came for, and that he intended to turn hisown words against himself. Still, he scorned to tell a falsehood. Likean upright and honorable prince, as he was, he determined to speak outthe real truth. Since the king had chosen to ask him the question andsince Jason had promised him an answer, there was no right way save totell him precisely what would be the most prudent thing to do if hehad his worst enemy in his power. 

Therefore, after a moment's consideration, he spoke up with a firm andmanly voice:

"I would send such a man, " said he, "in quest of the Golden Fleece!"

This enterprise, you will understand, was, of all others, the mostdifficult and dangerous in the world. In the first place, it would benecessary to make a long voyage through unknown seas. There was hardlya hope or a possibility that any young man who should undertake thisvoyage would either succeed in obtaining the Golden Fleece or wouldsurvive to return home and tell of the perils he had run. The eyes ofKing Pelias sparkled with joy, therefore, when he heard Jason's reply. 

"Well said, wise man with the one sandal!" cried he. "Go, then, and atthe peril of your life bring me back the Golden Fleece!"

"I go, " answered Jason composedly. "If I fail, you need not fear thatI will ever come back to trouble you again. But if I return to Iolchoswith the prize, then, King Pelias, you must hasten down from yourlofty throne and give me your crown and scepter. "

"That I will, " said the king, with a sneer. "Meantime I will keep themvery safely for you. "

The first thing that Jason thought of doing after he left the king'spresence was to go to Dodona and inquire of the Talking Oak whatcourse it was best to pursue. This wonderful tree stood in the centerof an ancient wood. Its stately trunk rose up a hundred feet into theair and threw a broad and dense shadow over more than an acre ofground. Standing beneath it, Jason looked up among the knottedbranches and green leaves and into the mysterious heart of the oldtree, and spoke aloud, as if he were addressing some person who washidden in the depths of the foliage. 

"What shall I do, " said he, "in order to win the Golden Fleece?"

At first there was a deep silence, not only within the shadow of theTalking Oak, but all through the solitary wood. In a moment or two, however, the leaves of the oak began to stir and rustle as if a gentlebreeze were wandering among them, although the other trees of the woodwere perfectly still. The sound grew louder and became like the roarof a high wind. By and by Jason imagined that he could distinguishwords, but very confusedly, because each separate leaf of the treeseemed to be a tongue and the whole myriad of tongues were babbling atonce. But the noise waxed broader and deeper until it resembled atornado sweeping through the oak and making one great utterance out ofthe thousand and thousand of little murmurs which each leafy tonguehad caused by its rustling. And now, though it still had the tone of amighty wind roaring among the branches, it was also like a deep bassvoice speaking, as distinctly as a tree could be expected to speak, the following words:

"Go to Argus, the shipbuilder, and bid him build a galley with fiftyoars. "

Then the voice melted again into the indistinct murmur of the rustlingleaves and died gradually away. When it was quite gone Jason feltinclined to doubt whether he had actually heard the words or whetherhis fancy had not shaped them out of the ordinary sound made by abreeze while passing through the thick foliage of the tree. 

But on inquiry among the people of Iolchos, he found that there wasreally a man in the city by the name of Argus, who was a very skilfulbuilder of vessels. This showed some intelligence in the oak, else howshould it have known that any such person existed? At Jason's requestArgus readily consented to build him a galley so big that it shouldrequire fifty strong men to row it, although no vessel of such a sizeand burden had heretofore been seen in the world. So the headcarpenter and all his journeymen and apprentices began their work; andfor a good while afterward there they were busily employed hewing outthe timbers and making a great clatter with their hammers, until thenew ship, which was called the Argo, seemed to be quite ready for sea. And as the Talking Oak had already given him such good advice, Jasonthought that it would not be amiss to ask for a little more. Hevisited it again, therefore, and standing beside its huge, roughtrunk, inquired what he should do next. 

This time there was no such universal quivering of the leavesthroughout the whole tree as there had been before. But after a whileJason observed that the foliage of a great branch which stretchedabove his head had begun to rustle as if the wind were stirring thatone bough, while all the other boughs of the oak were at rest. 

"Cut me off!" said the branch, as soon as it could speak distinctly;"cut me off! cut me off! and carve me into a figurehead for yourgalley. "

Accordingly, Jason took the branch at its word and lopped it off thetree. A carver in the neighborhood engaged to make the figurehead. Hewas a tolerably good workman and had already carved severalfigureheads in what he intended for feminine shapes, and lookingpretty much like those which we see nowadays stuck up under a vessel'sbowsprit, with great staring eyes that never wink at the dash of thespray. But (what was very strange) the carver found that his hand wasguided by some unseen power and by a skill beyond his own, and thathis tools shaped out an image which he had never dreamed of. When thework was finished it turned out to be the figure of a beautiful woman, with a helmet on her head, from beneath which the long ringlets felldown upon her shoulders. On the left arm was a shield and in itscenter appeared a lifelike representation of the head of Medusa withthe snaky locks. The right arm was extended as if pointing onward. Theface of this wonderful statue, though not angry or forbidding, was sograve and majestic that perhaps you might call it severe; and as forthe mouth, it seemed just ready to unclose its lips and utter words ofthe deepest wisdom. 

Jason was delighted with the oaken image and gave the carver no restuntil it was completed and set up where a figurehead has always stood, from that time to this, in the vessel's prow. 

"And now, " cried he, as he stood gazing at the calm, majestic face ofthe statue, "I must go to the Talking Oak and inquire what next todo. "

"There is no need of that, Jason, " said a voice which, though it wasfar lower, reminded him of the mighty tones of the great oak. "Whenyou desire good advice you can seek it of me. "

Jason had been looking straight into the face of the image when thesewords were spoken. But he could hardly believe either his ears or hiseyes. The truth was, however, that the oaken lips had moved, and toall appearance, the voice had proceeded from the statue's mouth. Recovering a little from his surprise, Jason bethought himself thatthe image had been carved out of the wood of the Talking Oak, andthat, therefore, it was really no great wonder, but, on the contrary, the most natural thing in the world, that it should possess thefaculty of speech. It should have been very odd indeed if it had not. But certainly it was a great piece of good fortune that he should beable to carry so wise a block of wood along with him in his perilousvoyage. 

"Tell me, wondrous image, " exclaimed Jason, "since you inherit thewisdom of the Speaking Oak of Dodona, whose daughter you are--tell me, where shall I find fifty bold youths who will take each of them an oarof my galley? They must have sturdy arms to row and brave hearts toencounter perils, or we shall never win the Golden Fleece. "

"Go, " replied the oaken image, "go, summon all the heroes of Greece. "

And, in fact, considering what a great deed was to be done, could anyadvice be wiser than this which Jason received from the figurehead ofhis vessel? He lost no time in sending messengers to all the cities, and making known to the whole people of Greece that Prince Jason, theson of King Æson, was going in quest of the Fleece of Gold, and hedesired the help of forty-nine of the bravest and strongest young menalive, to row his vessel and share his dangers. And Jason himselfwould be the fiftieth. 

At this news the adventurous youths all over the country began tobestir themselves. Some of them had already fought with giants andslain dragons; and the younger ones, who had not yet met with suchgood fortune, thought it a shame to have lived so long without gettingastride of a flying serpent or sticking their spears into a Chimæra, or at least thrusting their right arms down a monstrous lion's throat. There was a fair prospect that they would meet with plenty of suchadventures before finding the Golden Fleece. As soon as they couldfurbish up their helmets and shields, therefore, and gird on theirtrusty swords, they came thronging to Iolchos and clambered on boardthe new galley. Shaking hands with Jason, they assured him that theydid not care a pin for their lives, but would help row the vessel tothe remotest edge of the world and as much further as he might thinkit best to go. 

Many of these brave fellows had been educated by Chiron, thefour-footed pedagogue, and were therefore old schoolmates of Jason andknew him to be a lad of spirit. The mighty Hercules, whose shouldersafterward held up the sky, was one of them. And there were Castor andPollux, the twin brothers, who were never accused of beingchicken-hearted, although they had been hatched out of an egg; andTheseus, who was so renowned for killing the Minotaur; and Lynceus, with his wonderfully sharp eyes, which could see through a millstoneor look right down into the depths of the earth and discover thetreasures that were there; and Orpheus, the very best of harpers, whosang and played upon his lyre so sweetly that the brute beasts stoodupon their hind legs and capered merrily to the music. Yes, and atsome of his more moving tunes the rocks bestirred their moss-grownbulk out of the ground, and a grove of forest trees uprootedthemselves and, nodding their tops to one another, performed a countrydance. 

One of the rowers was a beautiful young woman named Atalanta, who hadbeen nursed among the mountains by a bear. So light of foot was thisfair damsel that she could step from one foamy crest of a wave to thefoamy crest of another without wetting more than the sole of hersandal. She had grown up in a very wild way and talked much about therights of women, and loved hunting and war far better than her needle. But in my opinion, the most remarkable of this famous company were twosons of the North Wind (airy youngsters, and of rather a blusteringdisposition), who had wings on their shoulders, and, in case of acalm, could puff out their cheeks and blow almost as fresh a breeze astheir father. I ought not to forget the prophets and conjurers, ofwhom there were several in the crew, and who could foretell what wouldhappen tomorrow, or the next day, or a hundred years hence, but weregenerally quite unconscious of what was passing at the moment. 

Jason appointed Tiphys to be helmsman, because he was a star-gazer andknew the points of the compass. Lynceus, on account of his sharpsight, was stationed as a lookout in the prow, where he saw a wholeday's sail ahead, but was rather apt to overlook things that laydirectly under his nose. If the sea only happened to be deep enough, however, Lynceus could tell you exactly what kind of rocks or sandswere at the bottom of it; and he often cried out to his companionsthat they were sailing over heaps of sunken treasure, which yet he wasnone the richer for beholding. To confess the truth, few peoplebelieved him when he said it. 

Well! But when the Argonauts, as these fifty brave adventurers werecalled, had prepared everything for the voyage, an unforeseendifficulty threatened to end it before it was begun. The vessel, youmust understand, was so long and broad and ponderous that the unitedforce of all the fifty was insufficient to shove her into the water. Hercules, I suppose, had not grown to his full strength, else he mighthave set her afloat as easily as a little boy launches his boat upon apuddle. But here were these fifty heroes, pushing and straining andgrowing red in the face without making the Argo start an inch. Atlast, quite wearied out, they sat themselves down on the shore, exceedingly disconsolate and thinking that the vessel must be left torot and fall in pieces and that they must either swim across the seaor lose the Golden Fleece. 

All at once Jason bethought himself of the galley's miraculousfigurehead. 

"Oh, daughter of the Talking Oak, " cried he, "how shall we set towork to get our vessel into the water?"

"Seat yourselves, " answered the image (for it had known what had oughtto be done from the very first and was only waiting for the questionto be put), "seat yourselves and handle your oars, and let Orpheusplay upon his harp. "

Immediately the fifty heroes got on board, and seizing their oars, held them perpendicularly in the air, while Orpheus (who liked such atask far better than rowing) swept his fingers across the harp. At thefirst ringing note of the music they felt the vessel stir. Orpheusthrummed away briskly and the galley slid at once into the sea, dipping her prow so deeply that the figurehead drank the wave with itsmarvelous lips, and rising again as buoyant as a swan. The rowersplied their fifty oars, the white foam boiled up before the prow, thewater gurgled and bubbled in their wake, while Orpheus continued toplay so lively a strain of music that the vessel seemed to dance overthe billows by way of keeping time to it. Thus triumphantly did theArgo sail out of the harbor amid the huzzas and good wishes ofeverybody except the wicked old Pelias, who stood on a promontoryscowling at her and wishing that he could blow out of his lungs thetempest of wrath that was in his heart and so sink the galley with allon board. When they had sailed above fifty miles over the sea Lynceushappened to cast his sharp eyes behind, and said that there was thisbad-hearted king, still perched upon the promontory, and scowling sogloomily that it looked like a black thunder-cloud in that quarter ofthe horizon. 

In order to make the time pass away more pleasantly during the voyage, the heroes talked about the Golden Fleece. It originally belonged, itappears, to a Bœotian ram, who had taken on his back two children, when in danger of their lives, and fled with them over land and sea asfar as Colchis. One of the children, whose name was Helle, fell intothe sea and was drowned. But the other (a little boy named Phrixus)was brought safe ashore by the faithful ram, who, however, was soexhausted that he immediately lay down and died. In memory of thisgood deed, and as a token of his true heart, the fleece of the poordead ram was miraculously changed to gold and became one of the mostbeautiful objects ever seen on earth. It was hung upon a tree in asacred grove, where it had now been kept I know not how many years, and was the envy of mighty kings who had nothing so magnificent in anyof their palaces. 

If I were to tell you all the adventures of the Argonauts it wouldtake me till nightfall and perhaps a great deal longer. There was nolack of wonderful events, as you may judge from what you have alreadyheard. At a certain island they were hospitably received by KingCyzicus, its sovereign, who made a feast for them and treated themlike brothers. But the Argonauts saw that this good king lookeddowncast and very much troubled, and they therefore inquired of himwhat was the matter. King Cyzicus hereupon informed them that he andhis subjects were greatly abused and incommoded by the inhabitants ofa neighboring mountain, who made war upon them and killed many peopleand ravaged the country. And while they were talking about it Cyzicuspointed to the mountain and asked Jason and his companions what theysaw there. 

"I see some very tall objects, " answered Jason, "but they are at sucha distance that I cannot distinctly make out what they are. To tellyour majesty the truth, they look so very strangely that I am inclinedto think them clouds which have chanced to take something like humanshapes. "

"I see them very plainly, " remarked Lynceus, whose eyes, you know, were as far-sighted as a telescope. "They are a band of enormousgiants, all of whom have six arms apiece, and a club, a sword or someother weapon in each of their hands. "

"You have excellent eyes, " said King Cyzicus. "Yes, they are six-armedgiants, as you say, and these are the enemies whom I and my subjectshave to contend with. "

The next day, when the Argonauts were about setting sail, down camethese terrible giants, stepping a hundred yards at a stride, brandishing their six arms apiece and looking very formidable so faraloft in the air. Each of these monsters was able to carry on a wholewar by himself, for with one of his arms he could fling immense stonesand wield a club with another and a sword with a third, while a fourthwas poking a long spear at the enemy and the fifth and sixth wereshooting him with a bow and arrow. But luckily, though the giants wereso huge and had so many arms, they had each but one heart and that nobigger nor braver than the heart of an ordinary man. Besides, if theyhad been like the hundred-armed Briareus, the brave Argonauts wouldhave given them their hands full of fight. Jason and his friends wentboldly to meet them, slew a great many and made the rest take to theirheels--so that if the giants had had six legs apiece instead of sixarms, it would have served them better to run away with. 

Another strange adventure happened when the voyagers came to Thrace, where they found a poor blind king named Phineus, deserted by hissubjects and living in a very sorrowful way all by himself. On Jason'sinquiring whether they could do him any service, the king answeredthat he was terribly tormented by three great winged creatures calledHarpies, which had the faces of women and the wings, bodies and clawsof vultures. These ugly wretches were in the habit of snatching awayhis dinner, and allowed him no peace of his life. Upon hearing thisthe Argonauts spread a plentiful feast on the seashore, well knowingfrom what the blind king said of their greediness that the Harpieswould snuff up the scent of the victuals and quickly come to stealthem away. And so it turned out, for hardly was the table set beforethe three hideous vulture-women came flapping their wings, seized thefood in their talons and flew off as fast as they could. But the twosons of the North Wind drew their swords, spread their pinions and setoff through the air in pursuit of the thieves, whom they at lastovertook among some islands, after a chase of hundreds of miles. Thetwo winged youths blustered terribly at the Harpies (for they had therough temper of their father), and so frightened them with their drawnswords that they solemnly promised never to trouble King Phineusagain. 

Then the Argonauts sailed onward and met with many other marvelousincidents, any one of which would make a story by itself. At one timethey landed on an island and were reposing on the grass, when theysuddenly found themselves assailed by what seemed a shower ofsteel-headed arrows. Some of them stuck in the ground, while othershit against their shields and several penetrated their flesh. Thefifty heroes started up and looked about them for the hidden enemy, but could find none nor see any spot on the whole island where even asingle archer could lie concealed. Still, however, the steel-headedarrows came whizzing among them; and at last, happening to lookupward, they beheld a large flock of birds hovering and wheeling aloftand shooting their feathers down upon the Argonauts. These featherswere the steel-headed arrows that had so tormented them. There was nopossibility of making any resistance, and the fifty heroic Argonautsmight all have been killed or wounded by a flock of troublesome birdswithout ever setting eyes on the Golden Fleece if Jason had notthought of asking the advice of the oaken image. 

So he ran to the galley as fast as his legs would carry him. 

"O daughter of the Speaking Oak, " cried he, all out of breath, "weneed your wisdom more than ever before! We are in great peril from aflock of birds, who are shooting us with their steel-pointed feathers. What can we do to drive them away?"

"Make a clatter on your shields, " said the image. 

On receiving this excellent counsel, Jason hurried back to hiscompanions (who were far more dismayed than when they fought with thesix-armed giants) and bade them strike with their swords upon theirbrazen shields. Forthwith the fifty heroes set heartily to work, banging with might and main, and raised such a terrible clatter thatthe birds made what haste they could to get away; and though they hadshot half the feathers out of their wings, they were soon seenskimming among the clouds, a long distance off and looking like aflock of wild geese. Orpheus celebrated this victory by playing atriumphant anthem on his harp, and sang so melodiously that Jasonbegged him to desist, lest, as the steel-feathered birds had beendriven away by an ugly sound, they might be enticed back again by asweet one. 

While the Argonauts remained on this island they saw a small vesselapproaching the shore, in which were two young men of princelydemeanor, and exceedingly handsome, as young princes generally were inthose days. Now, who do you imagine these two voyagers turned out tobe? Why, if you will believe me, they were the sons of that veryPhrixus, who in his childhood had been carried to Colchis on the backof the golden-fleeced ram. Since that time Phrixus had married theking's daughter, and the two young princes had been born and broughtup at Colchis, and had spent their play days on the outskirts of thegrove, in the center of which the Golden Fleece was hanging upon atree. They were now on their way to Greece, in hopes of getting backa kingdom that had been wrongfully taken from their father. 

When the princes understood whither the Argonauts were going theyoffered to turn back and guide them to Colchis. At the same time, however, they spoke as if it were very doubtful whether Jason wouldsucceed in getting the Golden Fleece. According to their account, thetree on which it hung was guarded by a terrible dragon, who neverfailed to devour at one mouthful every person who might venture withinhis reach. 

"There are other difficulties in the way, " continued the youngprinces. "But is not this enough? Ah, brave Jason, turn back before itis too late! It would grieve us to the heart if you and yourforty-nine brave companions should be eaten up, at fifty mouthfuls, bythis execrable dragon. "

"My young friends, " quietly replied Jason, "I do not wonder that youthink the dragon very terrible. You have grown up from infancy in thefear of this monster, and therefore still regard him with the awe thatchildren feel for the bugbears and hobgoblins which their nurses havetalked to them about. But in my view of the matter, the dragon ismerely a pretty large serpent who is not half so likely to snap me upat one mouthful as I am to cut off his ugly head and strip the skinfrom his body. At all events, turn back who may, I will never seeGreece again unless I carry with me the Golden Fleece. "

"We will none of us turn back!" cried his forty-nine brave comrades. "Let us get on board the galley this instant, and if the dragon is tomake a breakfast of us, much good may it do him. "

And Orpheus (whose custom it was to set everything to music) began toharp and sing most gloriously, and made every mother's son of themfeel as if nothing in this world were so delectable as to fightdragons and nothing so truly honorable as to be eaten up at onemouthful, in case of the worst. 

After this (being now under the guidance of the two princes, who werewell acquainted with the way) they quickly sailed to Colchis. When theking of the country, whose name was Æetes, heard of their arrival, heinstantly summoned Jason to court. The king was a stern andcruel-looking potentate, and though he put on as polite and hospitablean expression as he could, Jason did not like his face a whit betterthan that of the wicked King Pelias, who dethroned his father. 

"You are welcome, brave Jason, " said King Æetes. "Pray, are you on apleasure voyage?--or do you meditate the discovery of unknownislands?--or what other cause has procured me the happiness of seeingyou at my court?"

"Great sir, " replied Jason, with an obeisance--for Chiron had taughthim how to behave with propriety, whether to kings or beggars--"I havecome hither with a purpose which I now beg your majesty's permissionto execute. King Pelias, who sits on my father's throne (to which hehas no more right than to the one on which your excellent majesty isnow seated), has engaged to come down from it and to give me his crownand scepter, provided I bring him the Golden Fleece. This, as yourmajesty is aware, is now hanging on a tree here at Colchis; and Ihumbly solicit your gracious leave to take it away. "

In spite of himself, the king's face twisted itself into an angryfrown; for, above all things else in the world, he prized the GoldenFleece, and was even suspected of having done a very wicked act inorder to get it into his own possession. It put him into the worstpossible humor, therefore, to hear that the gallant Prince Jason andforty-nine of the bravest young warriors of Greece had come to Colchiswith the sole purpose of taking away his chief treasure. 

"Do you know, " asked King Æetes, eyeing Jason very sternly, "what arethe conditions which you must fulfill before getting possession of theGolden Fleece?"

"I have heard, " rejoined the youth, "that a dragon lies beneath thetree on which the prize hangs, and that whoever approaches him runsthe risk of being devoured at a mouthful. "

"True, " said the king, with a smile that did not look particularlygood-natured. "Very true, young man. But there are other things ashard, or perhaps a little harder, to be done before you can even havethe privilege of being devoured by the dragon. For example, you mustfirst tame my two brazen-footed and brazen-lunged bulls, which Vulcan, the wonderful blacksmith, made for me. There is a furnace in each oftheir stomachs, and they breathe such hot fire out of their mouths andnostrils that nobody has hitherto gone nigh them without beinginstantly burned to a small, black cinder. What do you think of this, my brave Jason?"

"I must encounter the peril, " answered Jason composedly, "since itstands in the way of my purpose. "

"After taming the fiery bulls, " continued King Æetes, who wasdetermined to scare Jason if possible, "you must yoke them to a plowand must plow the sacred earth in the grove of Mars and sow some ofthe same dragon's teeth from which Cadmus raised a crop of armed men. They are an unruly set of reprobates, those sons of the dragon'steeth, and unless you treat them suitably, they will fall upon yousword in hand. You and your forty-nine Argonauts, my bold Jason, arehardly numerous or strong enough to fight with such a host as willspring up. "

"My master Chiron, " replied Jason, "taught me long ago the story ofCadmus. Perhaps I can manage the quarrelsome sons of the dragon'steeth as well as Cadmus did. "

"I wish the dragon had him, " muttered King Æetes to himself, "and thefour-footed pedant, his schoolmaster, into the bargain. Why, what afoolhardy, self-conceited coxcomb he is! We'll see what myfire-breathing bulls will do for him. Well, Prince Jason, " hecontinued aloud, and as complacently as he could, "make yourselfcomfortable for today, and tomorrow morning, since you insist upon it, you shall try your skill at the plow. "

While the king talked with Jason a beautiful young woman was standingbehind the throne. She fixed her eyes earnestly upon the youthfulstranger and listened attentively to every word that was spoken, andwhen Jason withdrew from the king's presence this young woman followedhim out of the room. 

"I am the king's daughter, " she said to him, "and my name is Medea. Iknow a great deal of which other young princesses are ignorant and cando many things which they would be afraid so much as to dream of. Ifyou will trust to me I can instruct you how to tame the fiery bullsand sow the dragon's teeth and get the Golden Fleece. "

"Indeed, beautiful princess, " answered Jason, "if you will do me thisservice I promise to be grateful to you my whole life long. "

Gazing at Medea, he beheld a wonderful intelligence in her face. Shewas one of those persons whose eyes are full of mystery; so that whilelooking into them, you seem to see a very great way, as into a deepwell, yet can never be certain whether you see into the furthestdepths or whether there be not something else hidden at the bottom. IfJason had been capable of fearing anything he would have been afraidof making this young princess his enemy; for, beautiful as she nowlooked, she might the very next instant become as terrible as thedragon that kept watch over the Golden Fleece. 

[Illustration: THE DRAGON FELL AT FULL LENGTH UPON THE GROUND]

"Princess, " he exclaimed, "you seem indeed very wise and verypowerful. But how can you help me to do the things of which you speak?Are you an enchantress?"

"Yes, Prince Jason, " answered Medea, with a smile, "you have hit uponthe truth. I am an enchantress. Circe, my father's sister, taught meto be one, and I could tell you, if I pleased, who was the old womanwith the peacock, the pomegranate and the cuckoo staff, whom youcarried over the river; and likewise, who it is that speaks throughthe lips of the oaken image that stands in the prow of your galley. Iam acquainted with some of your secrets, you perceive. It is well foryou that I am favorably inclined, for otherwise you would hardlyescape being snapped up by the dragon. "

"I should not so much care for the dragon, " replied Jason, "if I onlyknew how to manage the brazen-footed and fiery-lunged bulls. "

"If you are as brave as I think you, and as you have need to be, " saidMedea, "your own bold heart will teach you that there is but one wayof dealing with a mad bull. What it is I leave you to find out in themoment of peril. As for the fiery breath of these animals, I have acharmed ointment here which will prevent you from being burned up andcure you if you chance to be a little scorched. "

So she put a golden box into his hand and directed him how to applythe perfumed unguent which it contained, and where to meet her atmidnight. 

"Only be brave, " added she, "and before daybreak the brazen bullsshall be tamed. "

The young man assured her that his heart would not fail him. He thenrejoined his comrades, and told them what had passed between theprincess and himself, and warned them to be in readiness in case theremight be need of their help. 

At the appointed hour he met the beautiful Medea on the marble stepsof the king's palace. She gave him a basket, in which were thedragon's teeth, just as they had been pulled out of the monster's jawsby Cadmus long ago. Medea then led Jason down the palace steps andthrough the silent streets of the city and into the royalpasture-ground, where the two brazen-footed bulls were kept. It was astarry night, with a bright gleam along the eastern edge of the sky, where the moon was soon going to show herself. After entering thepasture the princess paused and looked around. 

"There they are, " said she, "reposing themselves and chewing theirfiery cuds in that furthest corner of the field. It will be excellentsport, I assure you, when they catch a glimpse of your figure. Myfather and all his court delight in nothing so much as to see astranger trying to yoke them in order to come at the Golden Fleece. Itmakes a holiday in Colchis whenever such a thing happens. For my part, I enjoy it immensely. You cannot imagine in what a mere twinkling ofan eye their hot breath shrivels a young man into a black cinder. "

"Are you sure, beautiful Medea, " asked Jason, "quite sure, that theunguent in the gold box will prove a remedy against those terribleburns?"

"If you doubt, if you are in the least afraid, " said the princess, looking him in the face by the dim starlight, "you had better neverhave been born than go a step nigher to the bulls. "

But Jason had set his heart steadfastly on getting the Golden Fleece, and I positively doubt whether he would have gone back without it evenhad he been certain of finding himself turned into a red-hot cinder, or a handful of white ashes the instant he made a step further. Hetherefore let go Medea's hand and walked boldly forward in thedirection whither she had pointed. At some distance before him heperceived four streams of fiery vapor, regularly appearing and againvanishing after dimly lighting up the surrounding obscurity. These, you will understand, were caused by the breath of the brazen bulls, which was quietly stealing out of their four nostrils as they laychewing their cuds. 

At the first two or three steps which Jason made the four fierystreams appeared to gush out somewhat more plentifully, for the twobrazen bulls had heard his foot-tramp and were lifting up their hotnoses to snuff the air. He went a little further, and by the way inwhich the red vapor now spouted forth he judged that the creatures hadgot upon their feet. Now he could see glowing sparks and vivid jets offlame. At the next step each of the bulls made the pasture echo with aterrible roar, while the burning breath which they thus belched forthlit up the whole field with a momentary flash. 

One other stride did bold Jason make; and suddenly, as a streak oflightning, on came these fiery animals, roaring like thunder andsending out sheets of white flame, which so kindled up the scene thatthe young man could discern every object more distinctly than bydaylight. Most distinctly of all he saw the two horrible creaturesgalloping right down upon him, their brazen hoofs rattling and ringingover the ground and their tails sticking up stiffly into the air, ashas always been the fashion with angry bulls. Their breath scorchedthe herbage before them. So intensely hot it was, indeed, that itcaught a dry tree under which Jason was now standing and set it all ina light blaze. But as for Jason himself (thanks to Medea's enchantedointment), the white flame curled around his body without injuring hima jot more than if he had been made of asbestos. 

Greatly encouraged at finding himself not yet turned into a cinder, the young man awaited the attack of the bulls. Just as the brazenbrutes fancied themselves sure of tossing him into the air he caughtone of them by the horn and the other by his screwed-up tail and heldthem in a grip like that of an iron vise, one with his right hand, theother with his left. Well, he must have been wonderfully strong in hisarms, to be sure! But the secret of the matter was that the brazenbulls were enchanted creatures and that Jason had broken the spell oftheir fiery fierceness by his bold way of handling them. And eversince that time it has been the favorite method of brave men, whendanger assails them, to do what they call "taking the bull by thehorns"; and to grip him by the tail is pretty much the samething--that is, to throw aside fear and overcome the peril bydespising it. 

It was now easy to yoke the bulls and to harness them to the plowwhich had lain rusting on the ground for a great many years gone by, so long was it before anybody could be found capable of plowing thatpiece of land. Jason, I suppose, had been taught how to draw a furrowby the good old Chiron, who, perhaps, used to allow himself to beharnessed to the plow. At any rate, our hero succeeded perfectly wellin breaking up the greensward; and by the time that the moon was aquarter of her journey up the sky the plowed field lay before him, alarge tract of black earth, ready to be sown with the dragon's teeth. So Jason scattered them broadcast and harrowed them into the soil witha brush-harrow, and took his stand on the edge of the field, anxiousto see what would happen next. 

"Must we wait long for harvest-time?" he inquired of Medea, who wasnow standing by his side. 

"Whether sooner or later, it will be sure to come, " answered theprincess. "A crop of armed men never fails to spring up when thedragon's teeth have been sown. "

The moon was now high aloft in the heavens and threw its bright beamsover the plowed field, where as yet there was nothing to be seen. Anyfarmer, on viewing it, would have said that Jason must wait weeksbefore the green blades would peep from among the clods, and wholemonths before the yellow grain would be ripened for the sickle. But byand by, all over the field, there was something that glistened in themoonbeams like sparkling drops of dew. These bright objects sproutedhigher and proved to be the steel heads of spears. Then there was adazzling gleam from a vast number of polished brass helmets, beneathwhich, as they grew further out of the soil, appeared the dark andbearded visages of warriors, struggling to free themselves from theimprisoning earth. The first look that they gave at the upper worldwas a glare of wrath and defiance. Next were seen their brightbreastplates; in every right hand there was a sword or a spear and oneach left arm a shield; and when this strange crop of warriors had buthalf grown out of the earth, they struggled--such was their impatienceof restraint--and, as it were, tore themselves up by the roots. Wherever a dragon's tooth had fallen, there stood a man armed forbattle. They made a clangor with their swords against their shields, and eyed one another fiercely; for they had come into this beautifulworld and into the peaceful moonlight full of rage and stormy passionsand ready to take the life of every human brother in recompense forthe boon of their own existence. 

There have been many other armies in the world that seemed to possessthe same fierce nature with the one which had now sprouted from thedragon's teeth; but these in the moonlit field were the moreexcusable, because they never had women for their mothers. And now itwould have rejoiced any great captain who was bent on conquering theworld, like Alexander or Napoleon, to raise a crop of armed soldiersas easily as Jason did!

For awhile the warriors stood flourishing their weapons, clashingtheir swords against their shields and boiling over with the red-hotthirst for battle. Then they began to shout, "Show us the enemy! Leadus to the charge! Death or victory! Come on, brave comrades! Conqueror die!" and a hundred other outcries, such as men always bellow forthon a battle-field and which these dragon people seemed to have attheir tongues' ends. At last the front rank caught sight of Jason, who, beholding the flash of so many weapons in the moonlight, hadthought it best to draw his sword. In a moment all the sons of thedragon's teeth appeared to take Jason for an enemy; and crying withone voice, "Guard the Golden Fleece!" they ran at him with upliftedswords and protruded spears. Jason knew that it would be impossible towithstand this bloodthirsty battalion with his single arm, butdetermined, since there was nothing better to be done, to die asvaliantly as if he himself had sprung from a dragon's tooth. 

Medea, however, bade him snatch up a stone from the ground. 

"Throw it among them quickly!" cried she. "It is the only way to saveyourself. "

The armed men were now so nigh that Jason could discern the fireflashing out of their enraged eyes, when he let fly the stone and sawit strike the helmet of a tall warrior who was rushing upon him withhis blade aloft. The stone glanced from this man's helmet to theshield of his nearest comrade, and thence flew right into the angryface of another, hitting him smartly between the eyes. Each of thethree who had been struck by the stone took it for granted that hisnext neighbor had given him a blow; and instead of running any furthertoward Jason, they began to fight among themselves. The confusionspread through the host, so that it seemed scarcely a moment beforethey were all hacking, hewing and stabbing at one another, lopping offarms, heads and legs and doing such memorable deeds that Jason wasfilled with immense admiration; although, at the same time, he couldnot help laughing to behold these mighty men punishing each other foran offense which he himself had committed. In an incredibly shortspace of time (almost as short, indeed, as it had taken them to growup) all but one of the heroes of the dragon's teeth were stretchedlifeless on the field. The last survivor, the bravest and strongest ofthe whole, had just force enough to wave his crimson sword over hishead and give a shout of exultation, crying, "Victory! Victory!Immortal fame!" when he himself fell down and lay quietly among hisslain brethren. 

And there was the end of the army that had sprouted from the dragon'steeth. That fierce and feverish fight was the only enjoyment whichthey had tasted on this beautiful earth. 

"Let them sleep in the bed of honor, " said the Princess Medea, with asly smile at Jason. "The world will always have simpletons enough, just like them, fighting and dying for they know not what, andfancying that posterity will take the trouble to put laurel wreaths ontheir rusty and battered helmets. Could you help smiling, PrinceJason, to see the self-conceit of that last fellow, just as he tumbleddown?"

"It made me very sad, " answered Jason gravely. "And to tell you thetruth, princess, the Golden Fleece does not appear so well worth thewinning, after what I have here beheld. "

"You will think differently in the morning, " said Medea. "True, theGolden Fleece may not be so valuable as you have thought it; but thenthere is nothing better in the world, and one must needs have anobject, you know. Come! Your night's work has been well performed; andtomorrow you can inform King Æetes that the first part of yourallotted task is fulfilled. "

Agreeably to Medea's advice, Jason went betimes in the morning to thepalace of king Æetes. Entering the presence chamber, he stood at thefoot of the throne and made a low obeisance. 

"Your eyes look heavy, Prince Jason, " observed the king; "you appearto have spent a sleepless night. I hope you have been considering thematter a little more wisely and have concluded not to get yourselfscorched to a cinder in attempting to tame my brazen-lunged bulls. "

"That is already accomplished, may it please your majesty, " repliedJason. "The bulls have been tamed and yoked; the field has beenplowed; the dragon's teeth have been sown broadcast and harrowed intothe soil; the crop of armed warriors has sprung up and they have slainone another to the last man. And now I solicit your majesty'spermission to encounter the dragon, that I may take down the GoldenFleece from the tree and depart with my forty-nine comrades. "

King Æetes scowled and looked very angry and excessively disturbed;for he knew that, in accordance with his kingly promise, he ought nowto permit Jason to win the fleece if his courage and skill shouldenable him to do so. But since the young man had met with such goodluck in the matter of the brazen bulls and dragon's teeth, the kingfeared that he would be equally successful in slaying the dragon. Andtherefore, though he would gladly have seen Jason snapped up at amouthful, he was resolved (and it was a very wrong thing of thiswicked potentate) not to run any further risk of losing his belovedfleece. 

"You never would have succeeded in this business, young man, " said he, "if my undutiful daughter Medea had not helped you with herenchantments. Had you acted fairly, you would have been at thisinstant a black cinder or a handful of white ashes. I forbid you, onpain of death, to make any more attempts to get the Golden Fleece. Tospeak my mind plainly, you shall never set eyes on so much as one ofits glistening locks. "

Jason left the king's presence in great sorrow and anger. He couldthink of nothing better to be done than to summon together hisforty-nine brave Argonauts, march at once to the grove of Mars, slaythe dragon, take possession of the Golden Fleece, get on board theArgo and spread all sail for Iolchos. The success of this schemedepended, it is true, on the doubtful point whether all the fiftyheroes might not be snapped up as so many mouthfuls by the dragon. Butas Jason was hastening down the palace steps, the Princess Medeacalled after him and beckoned him to return. Her black eyes shone uponhim with such a keen intelligence that he felt as if there were aserpent peeping out of them, and although she had done him so muchservice only the night before, he was by no means very certain thatshe would not do him an equally great mischief before sunset. Theseenchantresses, you must know, are never to be depended upon. 

"What says King Æetes, my royal and upright father?" inquired Medea, slightly smiling. "Will he give you the Golden Fleece without anyfurther risk or trouble?"

"On the contrary, " answered Jason, "he is very angry with me fortaming the brazen bulls and sowing the dragon's teeth. And he forbidsme to make any more attempts, and positively refuses to give up theGolden Fleece, whether I slay the dragon or no. "

"Yes, Jason, " said the princess, "and I can tell you more. Unless youset sail from Colchis before tomorrow's sunrise, the king means toburn your fifty-oared galley and put yourself and your forty-ninebrave comrades to the sword. But be of good courage. The Golden Fleeceyou shall have if it lies within the power of my enchantments to getit for you. Wait for me here an hour before midnight. "

At the appointed hour you might again have seen Prince Jason and thePrincess Medea, side by side, stealing through the streets of Colchison their way to the sacred grove, in the center of which the GoldenFleece was suspended to a tree. While they were crossing the pastureground the brazen bulls came toward Jason, lowing, nodding their headsand thrusting forth their snouts, which, as other cattle do, theyloved to have rubbed and caressed by a friendly hand. Their fiercenature was thoroughly tamed; and with their fierceness, the twofurnaces in their stomachs had likewise been extinguished, insomuchthat they probably enjoyed far more comfort in grazing and chewingtheir cuds than ever before. Indeed, it had heretofore been a greatinconvenience to these poor animals that, whenever they wished to eata mouthful of grass, the fire out of their nostrils had shriveled itup before they could manage to crop it. How they contrived to keepthemselves alive is more than I can imagine. But now, instead ofemitting jets of flame and streams of sulphurous vapor, they breathedthe very sweetest of cow breath. 

After kindly patting the bulls, Jason followed Medea's guidance intothe Grove of Mars, where the great oak trees that had been growing forcenturies threw so thick a shade that the moonbeams struggled vainlyto find their way through it. Only here and there a glimmer fell uponthe leaf-strewn earth, or now and then a breeze stirred the boughsaside and gave Jason a glimpse of the sky, lest in that deep obscurityhe might forget that there was one overhead. At length, when they hadgone further and further into the heart of the duskiness, Medeasqueezed Jason's hand. 

"Look yonder, " she whispered. "Do you see it?"

Gleaming among the venerable oaks there was a radiance, not like themoonbeams, but rather resembling the golden glory of the setting sun. It proceeded from an object which appeared to be suspended at about aman's height from the ground, a little further within the wood. 

"What is it?" asked Jason. 

"Have you come so far to seek it, " exclaimed Medea, "and do you notrecognize the meed of all your toils and perils when it glittersbefore your eyes? It is the Golden Fleece. "

Jason went onward a few steps further, and then stopped to gaze. Oh, how beautiful it looked, shining with a marvelous light of its own, that inestimable prize which so many heroes had longed to behold, buthad perished in the quest of it, either by the perils of their voyageor by the fiery breath of the brazen-lunged bulls. 

"How gloriously it shines!" cried Jason in a rapture. "It has surelybeen dipped in the richest gold of sunset. Let me hasten onward andtake it to my bosom. "

"Stay, " said Medea, holding him back. "Have you forgotten what guardsit?"

To say the truth, in the joy of beholding the object of his desires, the terrible dragon had quite slipped out of Jason's memory. Soon, however, something came to pass that reminded him what perils werestill to be encountered. An antelope that probably mistook the yellowradiance for sunrise came bounding fleetly through the grove. He wasrushing straight toward the Golden Fleece, when suddenly there was afrightful hiss and the immense head and half the scaly body of thedragon was thrust forth (for he was twisted round the trunk of thetree on which the fleece hung), and seizing the poor antelope, swallowed him with one snap of his jaws. 

After this feat, the dragon seemed sensible that some other livingcreature was within reach, on which he felt inclined to finish hismeal. In various directions he kept poking his ugly snout among thetrees, stretching out his neck a terrible long way, now here, nowthere and now close to the spot where Jason and the princess werehiding behind an oak. Upon my word, as the head came waving andundulating through the air and reaching almost within arm's length ofPrince Jason, it was a very hideous and uncomfortable sight. The gapeof his enormous jaws was nearly as wide as the gateway of the king'spalace. 

"Well, Jason, " whispered Medea (for she was ill natured, as allenchantresses are, and wanted to make the bold youth tremble), "whatdo you think now of your prospect of winning the Golden Fleece?"

Jason answered only by drawing his sword and making a step forward. 

"Stay, foolish youth, " said Medea, grasping his arm. "Do not you seeyou are lost without me as your good angel? In this gold box I have amagic potion which will do the dragon's business far more effectuallythan your sword. "

The dragon had probably heard the voices, for swift as lightning hisblack head and forked tongue came hissing among the trees again, darting full forty feet at a stretch. As it approached, Medea tossedthe contents of the gold box right down the monster's wide-openthroat. Immediately, with an outrageous hiss and a tremendouswriggle--flinging his tail up to the tip-top of the tallest tree andshattering all its branches as it crashed heavily down again--thedragon fell at full length upon the ground and lay quite motionless. 

"It is only a sleeping potion, " said the enchantress to Prince Jason. "One always finds a use for these mischievous creatures sooner orlater; so I did not wish to kill him outright. Quick! Snatch theprize and let us begone. You have won the Golden Fleece. "

Jason caught the fleece from the tree and hurried through the grove, the deep shadows of which were illuminated as he passed, by the goldenglory of the precious object that he bore along. A little way beforehim he beheld the old woman whom he had helped over the stream, withher peacock beside her. She clapped her hands for joy, and beckoninghim to haste, disappeared among the duskiness of the trees. Espyingthe two winged sons of the North Wind (who were disporting themselvesin the moonlight a few hundred feet aloft), Jason bade them tell therest of the Argonauts to embark as speedily as possible. But Lynceus, with his sharp eyes, had already caught a glimpse of him, bringing theGolden Fleece, although several stone walls, a hill, and the blackshadows of the Grove of Mars intervened between. By his advice theheroes had seated themselves on the benches of the galley, with theiroars held perpendicularly, ready to let fall into the water. 

As Jason drew near he heard the Talking Image calling to him with morethan ordinary eagerness, in its grave, sweet voice:

"Make haste, Prince Jason! For your life, make haste!"

With one bound he leaped aboard. At sight of the glorious radiance ofthe Golden Fleece, the forty-nine heroes gave a mighty shout, andOrpheus, striking his harp, sang a song of triumph, to the cadence ofwhich the galley flew over the water, homeward bound, as if careeringalong with wings!

THE CYCLOPS

When the great city of Troy was taken, all the chiefs who had foughtagainst it set sail for their homes. But there was wrath in heavenagainst them, for indeed they had borne themselves haughtily andcruelly in the day of their victory. Therefore they did not all find asafe and happy return. For one was shipwrecked and another wasshamefully slain by his false wife in his palace, and others found allthings at home troubled and changed and were driven to seek newdwellings elsewhere. And some, whose wives and friends and people hadbeen still true to them through those ten long years of absence, weredriven far and wide about the world before they saw their native landagain. And of all, the wise Ulysses was he who wandered farthest andsuffered most. 

He was well-nigh the last to sail, for he had tarried many days to dopleasure to Agamemnon, lord of all the Greeks. Twelve ships he hadwith him--twelve he had brought to Troy--and in each there were somefifty men, being scarce half of those that had sailed in them in theold days, so many valiant heroes slept the last sleep by Simoïs andScamander and in the plain and on the seashore, slain in battle or bythe shafts of Apollo. 

First they sailed northwest to the Thracian coast, where the Ciconiansdwelt, who had helped the men of Troy. Their city they took, and in itmuch plunder, slaves and oxen, and jars of fragrant wine, and mighthave escaped unhurt, but that they stayed to hold revel on the shore. For the Ciconians gathered their neighbors, being men of the sameblood, and did battle with the invaders and drove them to their ship. And when Ulysses numbered his men, he found that he had lost six outof each ship. 

Scarce had he set out again when the wind began to blow fiercely; so, seeing a smooth, sandy beach, they drove the ships ashore and draggedthem out of reach of the waves, and waited till the storm shouldabate. And the third morning being fair, they sailed again andjourneyed prosperously till they came to the very end of the greatPeloponnesian land, where Cape Malea looks out upon the southern sea. But contrary currents baffled them, so that they could not round it, and the north wind blew so strongly that they must fain drive beforeit. And on the tenth day they came to the land where the lotusgrows--a wondrous fruit, of which whosoever eats cares not to seecountry or wife or children again. Now the Lotus eaters, for so theycall the people of the land, were a kindly folk and gave of the fruitto some of the sailors, not meaning them any harm, but thinking it tobe the best that they had to give. These, when they had eaten, saidthat they would not sail any more over the sea; which, when the wiseUlysses heard, he bade their comrades bind them and carry them, sadlycomplaining, to the ships. 

Then, the wind having abated, they took to their oars and rowed formany days till they came to the country where the Cyclopes dwell. Now, a mile or so from the shore there was an island, very fair andfertile, but no man dwells there or tills the soil, and in the islanda harbor where a ship may be safe from all winds, and at the head ofthe harbor a stream falling from the rock, and whispering alders allabout it. Into this the ships passed safely and were hauled up on thebeach, and the crews slept by them, waiting for the morning. And thenext day they hunted the wild goats, of which there was great store onthe island, and feasted right merrily on what they caught, withdraughts of red wine which they had carried off from the town of theCiconians. 

But on the morrow, Ulysses, for he was ever fond of adventure andwould know of every land to which he came what manner of men they werethat dwelt there, took one of his twelve ships and bade row to theland. There was a great hill sloping to the shore, and there rose uphere and there a smoke from the caves where the Cyclopes dwelt apart, holding no converse with each other, for they were a rude and savagefolk, but ruled each his own household, not caring for others. Nowvery close to the shore was one of these caves, very huge and deep, with laurels round about the mouth, and in front a fold with wallsbuilt of rough stone and shaded by tall oaks and pines. So Ulysseschose out of the crew the twelve bravest, and bade the rest guard theship, and went to see what manner of dwelling this was and who abodethere. He had his sword by his side, and on his shoulder a mighty skinof wine, sweet smelling and strong, with which he might win the heartof some fierce savage, should he chance to meet with such, as indeedhis prudent heart forecasted that he might. 

So they entered the cave and judged that it was the dwelling of somerich and skilful shepherd. For within there were pens for the young ofthe sheep and of the goats, divided all according to their age, andthere were baskets full of cheeses, and full milk pails ranged alongthe wall. But the Cyclops himself was away in the pastures. Then thecompanions of Ulysses besought him that he would depart, taking withhim, if he would, a store of cheeses and sundry of the lambs and ofthe kids. But he would not, for he wished to see, after his wont, whatmanner of host this strange shepherd might be. And truly he saw it tohis cost!

[Illustration: THE ONE-EYED POLYPHEMUS]

It was evening when the Cyclops came home, a mighty giant, twenty feetin height or more. On his shoulder he bore a vast bundle of pine logsfor his fire, and threw them down outside the cave with a greatcrash, and drove the flocks within, and closed the entrance with ahuge rock, which twenty wagons and more could not bear. Then he milkedthe ewes and all the she-goats, and half of the milk he curdled forcheese and half he set ready for himself when he should sup. Next hekindled a fire with the pine logs, and the flame lighted up all thecave, showing Ulysses and his comrades. 

"Who are ye?" cried Polyphemus, for that was the giant's name. "Are yetraders or, haply, pirates?"

For in those days it was not counted shame to be called a pirate. 

Ulysses shuddered at the dreadful voice and shape, but bore himbravely, and answered, "We are no pirates, mighty sir, but Greeks, sailing back from Troy, and subjects of the great King Agamemnon, whose fame is spread from one end of heaven to the other. And we arecome to beg hospitality of thee in the name of Zeus, who rewards orpunishes hosts and guests according as they be faithful the one to theother, or no. "

"Nay, " said the giant, "it is but idle talk to tell me of Zeus and theother gods. We Cyclopes take no account of gods, holding ourselves tobe much better and stronger than they. But come, tell me where haveyou left your ship?"

But Ulysses saw his thought when he asked about the ship, how he wasminded to break it and take from them all hope of flight. Therefore heanswered him craftily:

"Ship have we none, for that which was ours King Poseidon brake, driving it on a jutting rock on this coast, and we whom thou seest areall that are escaped from the waves. "

Polyphemus answered nothing, but without more ado caught up two of themen, as a man might catch up the whelps of a dog, and dashed them onthe ground, and tore them limb from limb and devoured them, with hugedraughts of milk between, leaving not a morsel, not even the verybones. But the others, when they saw the dreadful deed, could onlyweep and pray to Zeus for help. And when the giant had ended his foulmeal, he lay down among his sheep and slept. 

Then Ulysses questioned much in his heart whether he should slay themonster as he slept, for he doubted not that his good sword wouldpierce to the giant's heart, mighty as he was. But, being very wise, he remembered that, should he slay him, he and his comrades would yetperish miserably. For who should move away the great rock that layagainst the door of the cave? So they waited till the morning. And themonster woke and milked his flocks, and afterward, seizing two men, devoured them for his meal. Then he went to the pastures, but put thegreat rock on the mouth of the cave, just as a man puts down the lidupon his quiver. 

All that day the wise Ulysses was thinking what he might best do tosave himself and his companions, and the end of his thinking was this:There was a mighty pole in the cave, green wood of an olive tree, bigas a ship's mast, which Polyphemus purposed to use, when the smokeshould have dried it, as a walking staff. Of this he cut off afathom's length, and his comrades sharpened it and hardened it in thefire and then hid it away. At evening the giant came back and drovehis sheep into the cave, nor left the rams outside, as he had beenwont to do before, but shut them in. And having duly done hisshepherd's work, he made his cruel feast as before. Then Ulysses cameforward with the wine skin in his hand and said:

"Drink, Cyclops, now that thou hast feasted. Drink and see whatprecious things we had in our ship. But no one hereafter will come tothee with such like, if thou dealest with strangers as cruelly as thouhast dealt with us. "

Then the Cyclops drank and was mightily pleased, and said, "Give meagain to drink and tell me thy name, stranger, and I will give thee agift such as a host should give. In good truth this is a rare liquor. We, too, have vines, but they bear no wine like this, which indeedmust be such as the gods drink in heaven. "

Then Ulysses gave him the cup again and he drank. Thrice he gave it tohim and thrice he drank, not knowing what it was and how it would workwithin his brain. 

Then Ulysses spake to him. "Thou didst ask my name, Cyclops. Lo! myname is No Man. And now that thou knowest my name, thou shouldst giveme thy gift. "

And he said, "My gift shall be that I will eat thee last of all thycompany. "

And as he spake he fell back in a drunken sleep. Then Ulysses bade hiscomrades be of good courage, for the time was come when they should bedelivered. And they thrust the stake of olive wood into the fire tillit was ready, green as it was, to burst into flame, and they thrust itinto the monster's eye; for he had but one eye, and that in the midstof his forehead, with the eyebrow below it. And Ulysses leaned withall his force upon the stake and thrust it in with might and main. Andthe burning wood hissed in the eye, just as the red-hot iron hisses inthe water when a man seeks to temper steel for a sword. 

Then the giant leapt up and tore away the stake and cried aloud, sothat all the Cyclopes who dwelt on the mountain side heard him andcame about his cave, asking him, "What aileth thee, Polyphemus, thatthou makest this uproar in the peaceful night, driving away sleep? Isany one robbing thee of thy sheep or seeking to slay thee by craft orforce?"

And the giant answered, "No Man slays me by craft. "

"Nay, but, " they said, "if no man does thee wrong, we cannot helpthee. The sickness which great Zeus may send, who can avoid? Pray toour father, Poseidon, for help. "

Then they departed, and Ulysses was glad at heart for the goodsuccess of his device when he said that he was No Man. 

But the Cyclops rolled away the great stone from the door of the caveand sat in the midst, stretching out his hands to feel whetherperchance the men within the cave would seek to go out among thesheep. 

Long did Ulysses think how he and his comrades should best escape. Atlast he lighted upon a good device, and much he thanked Zeus for thatthis once the giant had driven the rams with the other sheep into thecave. For, these being great and strong, he fastened his comradesunder the bellies of the beasts, tying them with osier twigs, of whichthe giant made his bed. One ram he took and fastened a man beneath it, and two others he set, one on either side. So he did with the six, forbut six were left out of the twelve who had ventured with him from theship. And there was one mighty ram, far larger than all the others, and to this Ulysses clung, grasping the fleece tight with both hishands. So they waited for the morning. And when the morning came, therams rushed forth to the pasture; but the giant sat in the door andfelt the back of each as it went by, nor thought to try what might beunderneath. Last of all went the great ram. And the Cyclops knew himas he passed and said:

"How is this, thou, who art the leader of the flock? Thou art not wontthus to lag behind. Thou hast always been the first to run to thepastures and streams in the morning and the first to come back to thefold when evening fell; and now thou art last of all. Perhaps thou arttroubled about thy master's eye, which some wretch--No Man, they callhim--has destroyed, having first mastered me with wine. He has notescaped, I ween. I would that thou couldst speak and tell me where heis lurking. Of a truth I would dash out his brains upon the ground andavenge me of this No Man. "

So speaking, he let him pass out of the cave. But when they were outof reach of the giant, Ulysses loosed his hold of the ram and thenunbound his comrades. And they hastened to their ship, not forgettingto drive before them a good store of the Cyclops' fat sheep. Rightglad were those that had abode by the ship to see them. Nor did theylament for those that had died, though they were fain to do so, forUlysses forbade, fearing lest the noise of their weeping should betraythem to the giant, where they were. Then they all climbed into theship, and sitting well in order on the benches, smote the sea withtheir oars, laying-to right lustily, that they might the sooner getaway from the accursed land. And when they had rowed a hundred yardsor so, so that a man's voice could yet be heard by one who stood uponthe shore, Ulysses stood up in the ship and shouted:

"He was no coward, O Cyclops, whose comrades thou didst so foully slayin thy den. Justly art thou punished, monster, that devourest thyguests in thy dwelling. May the gods make thee suffer yet worse thingsthan these!"

Then the Cyclops in his wrath broke off the top of a great hill, amighty rock, and hurled it where he had heard the voice. Right infront of the ship's bow it fell, and a great wave rose as it sank, andwashed the ship back to the shore. But Ulysses seized a long pole withboth hands and pushed the ship from the land and bade his comrades plytheir oars, nodding with his head, for he was too wise to speak, lestthe Cyclops should know where they were. Then they rowed with alltheir might and main. 

And when they had gotten twice as far as before, Ulysses made as if hewould speak again; but his comrades sought to hinder him, saying, "Nay, my lord, anger not the giant any more. Surely we thought beforewe were lost, when he threw the great rock and washed our ship back tothe shore. And if he hear thee now, he may crush our ship and us, forthe man throws a mighty bolt and throws it far. "

But Ulysses would not be persuaded, but stood up and said, "Hear, Cyclops! If any man ask who blinded thee, say that it was the warriorUlysses, son of Laertes, dwelling in Ithaca. "

And the Cyclops answered with a groan, "Of a truth, the old oraclesare fulfilled, for long ago there came to this land one Telemus, aprophet, and dwelt among us even to old age. This man foretold me thatone Ulysses would rob me of my sight. But I looked for a great man anda strong, who should subdue me by force, and now a weakling has donethe deed, having cheated me with wine. But come thou hither, Ulysses, and I will be a host indeed to thee. Or, at least, may Poseidon givethee such a voyage to thy home as I would wish thee to have. For knowthat Poseidon is my sire. May be that he may heal me of my grievouswound. "

And Ulysses said, "Would to God, I could send thee down to the abodeof the dead, where thou wouldst be past all healing, even fromPoseidon's self. "

Then Cyclops lifted up his hands to Poseidon and prayed:

"Hear me, Poseidon, if I am indeed thy son and thou my father. Maythis Ulysses never reach his home! or, if the Fates have ordered thathe should reach it, may he come alone, all his comrades lost, and cometo find sore trouble in his house!"

And as he ended he hurled another mighty rock, which almost lighted onthe rudder's end, yet missed it as if by a hair's breadth. So Ulyssesand his comrades escaped and came to the island of the wild goats, where they found their comrades, who indeed had waited long for them, in sore fear lest they had perished. Then Ulysses divided among hiscompany all the sheep which they had taken from the Cyclops. And all, with one consent, gave him for his share the great ram which hadcarried him out of the cave, and he sacrificed it to Zeus. And allthat day they feasted right merrily on the flesh of sheep and on sweetwine, and when the night was come, they lay down upon the shore andslept. 

ŒDIPUS AND THE SPHINX

It befell in times past that the gods, being angry with theinhabitants of Thebes, sent into their land a very troublesome beastwhich men called the Sphinx. Now this beast had the face and breast ofa fair woman, but the feet and claws of a lion; and it was wont to aska riddle of such as encountered it, and such as answered not aright itwould tear and devour. 

When it had laid waste the land many days, there chanced to come toThebes one Œdipus, who had fled from the city of Corinth that hemight escape the doom which the gods had spoken against him. And themen of the place told him of the Sphinx, how she cruelly devoured thepeople, and that he who should deliver them from her should have thekingdom. So Œdipus, being very bold, and also ready of wit, wentforth to meet the monster. And when she saw him she spake, saying:

 "Read me this riddle right, or die: What liveth there beneath the sky, Four-footed creature that doth choose Now three feet and now twain to use, And still more feebly o'er the plain Walketh with three feet than with twain?"

And Œdipus made reply:

 "'Tis man, who in life's early day Four-footed crawleth on his way; When time hath made his strength complete, Upright his form and twain his feet; When age hath bound him to the ground A third foot in his staff is found. "

[Illustration: ŒDIPUS STOOD BEFORE THE SPHINX]

And when the Sphinx found that her riddle was answered she castherself from a high rock and perished. 

As a reward Œdipus received the great kingdom of Thebes and thehand of the widowed queen Jocasta in marriage. Four children were bornto them--two sons, Eteocles and Polynices, and two daughters, Antigoneand Ismené. 

Now the gods had decreed that Œdipus should murder his own fatherand marry his own mother, and by a curious chance this was preciselywhat he had done. As a baby he had been left to die lest he shouldlive to fulfil the doom, but had been rescued by an old shepherd andbrought up at the court of Corinth. Fleeing from there that he mightnot murder him whom he believed to be his father, he had come toThebes, and on the way had met Laius, his true father, the king, andkilled him. 

While he remained ignorant of the facts Œdipus was very happy andreigned in great power and glory; but when pestilence fell upon theland and he discovered the truth of the almost forgotten oracle, hewas very miserable, and in the madness of grief put out his own eyes. 

ANTIGONE, A FAITHFUL DAUGHTER AND SISTER

Jocasta, when she learned that Œdipus was really her son, was sofilled with horror and distress that she took her own life. ButAntigone and Ismené were sorry for their father, whom they loved verydearly, and sought by every means they knew to render his sufferingless. 

Longing to see again the land of Corinth which he had left seized theblind Œdipus, and like a beggar, staff in hand, he set out. OnlyAntigone accompanied him, guiding his step and striving daily to keepup his courage. 

[Illustration: THE BLIND ŒDIPUS, LED BY HIS DAUGHTER ANTIGONE]

After much wandering Œdipus was finally cast into prison. Then thetwo sons took possession of the kingdom, making agreement betweenthemselves that each should reign for the space of one year. And theelder of the two, whose name was Eteocles, first had the kingdom; butwhen his year was come to an end, he would not abide by his promise, but kept that which he should have given up, and drove out his youngerbrother from the city. Then the younger, whose name was Polynices, fled to Argos, to King Adrastus. And after a while he married thedaughter of the king, who made a covenant with him that he would bringhim back with a high hand to Thebes and set him on the throne of hisfather. Then the king sent messengers to certain of the princes ofGreece, entreating that they would help in this matter. And of thesesome would not, but others hearkened to his words, so that a greatarmy was gathered together and followed the king and Polynices to makewar against Thebes. So they came and pitched their camp over againstthe city. And after they had been there many days, the battle grewfierce about the wall. But the chiefest fight was between the twobrothers, for the two came together in an open space before the gates. And first Polynices prayed to Heré, for she was the goddess of thegreat city of Argos, which had helped him in this enterprise, andEteocles prayed to Pallas of the Golden Shield, whose temple stoodhard by. Then they crouched, each covered with his shield and holdinghis spear in his hand, if by chance his enemy should give occasion tosmite him; and if one showed so much as an eye above the rim of hisshield the other would strike at him. But after a while King Eteoclesslipped upon a stone that was under his foot, and uncovered his leg, at which straightway Polynices took aim with his spear, piercing theskin. But so doing he laid his own shoulder bare, and King Eteoclesgave him a wound in the breast. He brake his spear in striking andwould have fared ill but that with a great stone he smote the spear ofPolynices and brake this also in the middle. And now were the twoequal, for each had lost his spear. So they drew their swords and cameyet closer together. But Eteocles used a device which he had learnt inthe land of Thessaly; for he drew his left foot back, as if he wouldhave ceased from the battle, and then of a sudden moved the rightforward; and so smiting sideways, drove his sword right through thebody of Polynices. But when, thinking that he had slain him, he sethis weapons in the earth and began to spoil him of his arms, theother, for he yet breathed a little, laid his hand upon his sword, andthough he had scarce strength to smite, yet gave the king a mortalblow, so that the two lay dead together on the plain. And the men ofThebes lifted up the bodies of the dead and bare them both into thecity. 

When these two brothers, the sons of King Œdipus, had fallen eachby the hand of the other, the kingdom fell to Creon, their uncle. Fornot only was he the next of kin to the dead, but also the people heldhim in great honor because his son Menœceus had offered himselfwith a willing heart that he might deliver his city from captivity. 

Now when Creon was come to the throne he made a proclamation about thetwo princes, commanding that they should bury Eteocles with all honor, seeing that he died as beseemed a good man and a brave, doing battlefor his country, that it should not be delivered into the hands of theenemy; but as for Polynices, he bade them leave his body to bedevoured by the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field, becausehe had joined himself to the enemy and would have beaten down thewalls of the city and burned the temples of the gods with fire and ledthe people captive. Also he commanded that if any man should breakthis decree he should suffer death by stoning. 

Now Antigone, who was sister to the two princes, heard that the decreehad gone forth, and chancing to meet her sister Ismené before thegates of the palace, spake to her, saying:

"O my sister, hast thou heard this decree that the king hath put forthconcerning our brethren that are dead?"

Then Ismené made answer: "I have heard nothing, my sister, only thatwe are bereaved of both of our brethren in one day and that the armyof the Argives is departed in this night that is now past. So much Iknow, but no more. "

"Hearken then. King Creon hath made a proclamation that they shallbury Eteocles with all honor, but that Polynices shall lie unburied, that the birds of the air and the beasts of the field may devour him, and that whosoever shall break this decree shall suffer death bystoning. "

"But if it be so, my sister, how can we avail to change it?"

"Think whether or no thou wilt share with me the doing of this deed. "

"What deed? What meanest thou?"

"To pay due honor to this dead body. "

"What? Wilt thou bury him when the king hath forbidden it?"

"Yes, for he is my brother and also thine, though perchance thouwouldst not have it so. And I will not play him false. "

"O my sister, wilt thou do this when Creon hath forbidden it?"

"Why should he stand between me and mine?"

"But think now what sorrows are come upon our house. For our fatherperished miserably, having first put out his own eyes; and our motherhanged herself with her own hands; our two brothers fell in one day, each by the other's spear; and now we two only are left. And shall wenot fall into a worse destruction than any, if we transgress thesecommands of the king? Think, too, that we are women and not men, andof necessity obey them that are stronger. Wherefore, as for me, I willpray the dead to pardon me, seeing that I am thus constrained; but Iwill obey them that rule. "

"I advise thee not, and if thou thinkest thus, I would not have theefor helper. But know that I will bury my brother, nor could I betterdie than for doing such a deed. For as he loved me, so also do I lovehim greatly. And shall not I do pleasure to the dead rather than tothe living, seeing that I shall abide with the dead for ever? Butthou, if thou wilt do dishonor to the laws of the gods?"

"I dishonor them not. Only I cannot set myself against the powers thatbe. "

"So be it; but I will bury my brother. "

"O my sister, how I fear for thee!"

"Fear for thyself. Thine own lot needeth all thy care. "

"Thou wilt at least keep thy counsel, nor tell the thing to any man. "

"Not so: hide it not. I shall scorn thee more if thou proclaim it notaloud to all. "

So Antigone departed; and after a while came to the same place KingCreon, clad in his royal robes and with his scepter in his hand, andset forth his counsel to the elders who were assembled, how he haddealt with the two princes according to their deserving, giving allhonor to him that loved his country and casting forth the otherunburied. And he bade them take care that this decree should be kept, saying that he had also appointed certain men to watch the dead body. 

And he had scarcely left speaking when there came one of these samewatchers and said:

"I have not come hither in haste, O King; nay, I doubted much, while Iwas yet on the way, whether I should not turn again. For now Ithought, 'Fool, why goest thou where thou shalt suffer for it'; andthen, again, 'Fool, the king will hear the matter elsewhere, and thenhow wilt thou fare?' But at the last I came as I had purposed, for Iknow that nothing may happen to me contrary to fate. "

"But say, " said the king, "what troubles thee so much?"

"First hear my case. I did not the thing and know not who did it, andit were a grievous wrong should I fall into trouble for such a cause. "

"Thou makest a long preface, excusing thyself, but yet hast, as Ijudge, something to tell. "

"Fear, my lord, ever causeth delay. "

"Wilt thou not speak out thy news and then begone?"

"I will speak it. Know then that some man hath thrown dust upon thisdead corpse, and done besides such things as are needful. "

"What sayest thou? Who hath dared to do this deed?"

"That I know not, for there was no mark as of spade or pick-axe; norwas the earth broken, nor had wagon passed thereon. We were soredismayed when the watchman showed the thing to us; for the body wecould not see. Buried indeed it was not, but rather covered with dust. Nor was there any sign as of wild beast or of dog that had torn it. Then there arose a contention among us, each blaming the other, andaccusing his fellows, and himself denying that he had done the deed orwas privy to it. And doubtless we had fallen to blows but that onespake a word which made us all tremble for fear, knowing that it mustbe as he said. For he said that the thing must be told to thee, and inno wise hidden. So we drew lots, and by evil chance the lot fell uponme. Wherefore I am here, not willingly, for no man loveth him thatbringeth evil tidings. "

Then said the chief of the old men:

"Consider, O King, for haply this thing is from the gods. "

But the king cried:

"Thinkest thou that the gods care for such an one as this dead man, who would have burnt their temples with fire, and laid waste the landwhich they love, and set at naught the laws? Not so. But there are menin this city who have long time had ill will to me, not bowing theirnecks to my yoke; and they have persuaded these fellows with money todo this thing. Surely there never was so evil a thing as money, whichmaketh cities into ruinous heaps and banisheth men from their housesand turneth their thoughts from good unto evil. But as for them thathave done this deed for hire, of a truth they shall not escape, for Isay to thee, fellow, if ye bring not here before my eyes the man thatdid this thing, I will hang you up alive. So shall ye learn that illgains bring no profit to a man. "

So the guard departed, but as he went he said to himself:

"Now may the gods grant that the man be found; but however this maybe, thou shalt not see me come again on such errand as this, for evennow have I escaped beyond all hope. "

Notwithstanding, after a space he came back with one of his fellows;and they brought with them the maiden Antigone, with her hands boundtogether. 

And it chanced that at the same time King Creon came forth from thepalace. Then the guard set forth the thing to him, saying:

"We cleared away the dust from the dead body, and sat watching it. Andwhen it was now noon, and the sun was at his height, there came awhirlwind over the plain, driving a great cloud of dust. And when thishad passed, we looked, and lo! this maiden whom we have brought hitherstood by the dead corpse. And when she saw that it lay bare as before, she sent up an exceeding bitter cry, even as a bird whose young oneshave been taken from the nest. Then she cursed them that had done thisdeed, and brought dust and sprinkled it upon the dead man, and pouredwater upon him three times. Then we ran and laid hold upon her andaccused her that she had done this deed; and she denied it not. But asfor me, 'tis well to have escaped from death, but it is ill to bringfriends into the same. Yet I hold that there is nothing dearer to aman than his life. "

Then said the king to Antigone:

"Tell me in a word, didst thou know my decree?"

"I knew it. Was it not plainly declared?"

"How daredst thou to transgress the laws?"

"Zeus made not such laws, nor Justice that dwelleth with the godsbelow. I judged not that thy decrees had such authority that a manshould transgress for them the unwritten sure commandments of thegods. For these, indeed, are not of today or yesterday, but they liveforever, and their beginning no man knoweth. Should I, for fear ofthee, be found guilty against them? That I should die I knew. Whynot? All men must die. And if I die before my time, what loss? He wholiveth among many sorrows even as I have lived, counteth it gain todie. But had I left my own mother's son unburied, this had been lossindeed. "

Then said the king:

"Such stubborn thoughts have a speedy fall and are shivered even asthe iron that hath been made hard in the furnace. And as for thiswoman and her sister--for I judge her sister to have had a part inthis matter--though they were nearer to me than all my kindred, yetshall they not escape the doom of death. Wherefore let some one bringthe other woman hither. "

And while they went to fetch the maiden Ismené, Antigone said to theking:

"Is it not enough for thee to slay me? What need to say more? For thywords please me not, nor mine thee. Yet what nobler thing could I havedone than to bury my mother's son? And so would all men say, but fearshutteth their mouths. "

"Nay, " said the king, "none of the children of Cadmus thinketh thus, but thou only. But, hold, was not he that fell in battle with this manthy brother also?"

"Yes, truly, my brother he was. "

"And dost thou not dishonor him when thou honorest his enemy?"

"The dead man would not say it, could he speak. "

"Shall then the wicked have like honor with the good?"

"How knowest thou but that such honor pleaseth the gods below?"

"I have no love for them I hate, though they be dead. "

"Of hating I know nothing; 'tis enough for me to love. "

"If thou wilt love, go love the dead. But while I live no woman shallrule me. "

Then those that had been sent to fetch the maiden Ismené brought herforth from the palace. And when the king accused her that she had beenprivy to the deed she denied not, but would have shared one lot withher sister. 

But Antigone turned from her, saying:

"Not so; thou hast no part or lot in the matter. For thou hast chosenlife and I have chosen death; and even so shall it be. "

And when Ismené saw that she prevailed nothing with her sister, sheturned to the king and said:

"Wilt thou slay the bride of thy son?"

"Ay, " said he, "there are other brides to win!"

"But none, " she made reply, "that accord so well with him. "

"I will have no evil wives for my sons, " said the king. 

Then cried Antigone:

"O Hæmon, whom I love, how thy father wrongeth thee!"

Then the king bade the guards lead the two into the palace. Butscarcely had they gone when there came to the place the Prince Hæmon, the king's son, who was betrothed to the maiden Antigone. And when theking saw him, he said:

"Art thou content, my son, with thy father's judgment?"

And the young man answered:

"My father, I would follow thy counsels in all things. "

Then said the king:

"'Tis well spoken, my son. This is a thing to be desired, that a manshould have obedient children. But if it be otherwise with a man, hehath gotten great trouble for himself and maketh sport for them thathate him. And now as to this matter. There is naught worse than anevil wife. Wherefore I say let this damsel wed a bridegroom among thedead. For since I have found her, alone of all this people, breakingmy decree, surely she shall die. Nor shall it profit her to claimkinship with me, for he that would rule a city must first deal justlywith his own kindred. And as for obedience, this it is that maketh acity to stand both in peace and in war. "

To this the Prince Hæmon made answer:

"What thou sayest, my father, I do not judge. Yet bethink thee, that Isee and hear on thy behalf what is hidden from thee. For common mencannot abide thy look if they say that which pleaseth thee not. Yet doI hear it in secret. Know then that all the city mourneth for thismaiden, saying that she dieth wrongfully for a very noble deed, inthat she buried her brother. And 'tis well, my father, not to bewholly set on thy thoughts, but to listen to the counsels of others. "

"Nay, " said the king; "shall I be taught by such an one as thou?"

"I pray thee regard my words, if they be well, and not my years. "

"Can it be well to honor them that transgress? And hath not this womantransgressed?"

"The people of this city judge not so. "

"The people, sayest thou? Is it for them to rule, or for me?"

"No city is the possession of one man only. "

So the two answered one the other, and their anger waxed hot. And atthe last the king cried:

"Bring this accursed woman and slay her before his eyes. "

And the prince answered:

"That thou shalt never do. And know this also, that thou shalt neversee my face again. "

So he went away in a rage; and the old men would have appeased theking's wrath, but he would not hearken to them, but said that the twomaidens should die. 

"Wilt thou then slay them both?" said the old men. 

"'Tis well said, " the king made answer. "Her that meddled not with thematter, I harm not. "

"And how wilt thou deal with the other?"

"There is a desolate place, and there I will shut her up alive in asepulchre; yet giving her so much of food as shall quit us of guilt inthe matter, for I would not have the city defiled. There let herpersuade Death, whom she loveth so much, that he harm her not. "

So the guards led Antigone away to shut her up alive in the sepulchre. But scarcely had they departed when there came an old prophetTiresias, seeking the king. Blind he was, so that a boy led him by thehand; but the gods had given him to see things to come. 

And when the king saw him he asked:

"What seekest thou, wisest of men?"

Then the prophet answered:

"Hearken, O King, and I will tell thee. I sat in my seat, after mycustom, in the place whither all manner of birds resort. And as I satI heard a cry of birds that I knew not, very strange and full ofwrath. And I knew that they tare and slew each other, for I heard thefierce flapping of their wings. And being afraid, I made inquiry aboutthe fire, how it burned upon the altars. And this boy, for as I am aguide to others so he guideth me, told me that it shone not at all, but smouldered and was dull, and that the flesh which was burnt uponthe altar spluttered in the flame and wasted away into corruption andfilthiness. And now I tell thee, O King, that the city is troubled bythy ill counsels. For the dogs and the birds of the air tear the fleshof this dead son of Œdipus, whom thou sufferest not to have dueburial, and carry it to the altars, polluting them therewith. Wherefore the gods receive not from us prayer or sacrifice, and thecry of the birds hath an evil sound, for they are full of the flesh ofa man. Therefore I bid thee be wise in time. For all men may err; buthe that keepeth not his folly, but repenteth, doeth well; butstubbornness cometh to great trouble. "

Then the king answered:

"Old man, I know the race of prophets full well, how ye sell your artfor gold. But make thy trade as thou wilt, this man shall not haveburial; yea, though the eagles of Zeus carry his flesh to theirmaster's throne in heaven, he shall not have it. "

And when the prophet spake again, entreating him and warning, the kinganswered him after the same fashion, that he spake not honestly, buthad sold his art for money. 

But at the last the prophet spake in great wrath, saying:

"Know, O King, that before many days shall pass thou shalt pay a lifefor a life, even one of thine own children, for them with whom thouhast dealt unrighteously, shutting up the living with the dead andkeeping the dead from them to whom they belong. Therefore the Furieslie in wait for thee and thou shalt see whether or no I speak thesethings for money. For there shall be mourning and lamentation in thineown house, and against thy people shall be stirred up many cities. Andnow, my child, lead me home and let this man rage against them thatare younger than I. "

So the prophet departed and the old men were sore afraid and said:

"He hath spoken terrible things, O King; nor ever since these grayhairs were black have we known him say that which was false. "

"Even so, " said the king, "and I am troubled in heart and yet am loathto depart from my purpose. "

"King Creon, " said the old men, "thou needest good counsel. "

"What, then, would ye have done?"

"Set free the maiden from the sepulchre and give this dead manburial. "

Then the king cried to his people that they should bring barswherewith to loosen the doors of the sepulchre, and hastened with themto the place. But coming on their way to the body of Prince Polynices, they took it up and washed it, and buried that which remained of it, and raised over the ashes a great mound of earth. And this being done, they drew near to the place of the sepulchre; and as they approached, the king heard within a very piteous voice, and knew it for the voiceof his son. Then he bade his attendants loose the door with all speed;and when they had loosed it, they beheld within a very piteous sight. For the maiden Antigone had hanged herself by the girdle of linenwhich she wore, and the young man Prince Hæmon stood with his armsabout her dead body, embracing it. And when the king saw him, he criedto him to come forth; but the prince glared fiercely upon him andanswered him not a word, but drew his two-edged sword. Then the king, thinking that his son was minded in his madness to slay him, leaptback, but the prince drove the sword into his own heart and fellforward on the earth, still holding the dead maiden in his arms. Andwhen they brought the tidings of these things to Queen Eurydice, thewife of King Creon and mother to the prince, she could not endure thegrief, being thus bereaved of her children, but laid hold of a swordand slew herself therewith. 

So the house of King Creon was left desolate unto him that day, because he despised the ordinances of the gods. 

THE STORY OF IPHIGENIA

King Agamemnon sat in his tent at Aulis, where the army of the Greekswas gathered together, being about to sail against the great city ofTroy. And it was now past midnight; but the king slept not, for he wascareful and troubled about many things. And he had a lamp before himand in his hand a tablet of pine wood, whereon he wrote. But he seemednot to remain in the same mind about that which he wrote; for now hewould blot out the letters, and then would write them again; and nowhe fastened the seal upon the tablet and then brake it. And as he didthis he wept and was like to a man distracted. But after a while hecalled to an old man, his attendant (the man had been given in timepast by Tyndareus to his daughter, Queen Clytæmnestra) and said:

"Old man, thou knowest how Calchas the soothsayer bade me offer for asacrifice to Artemis, who is goddess of this place, my daughterIphigenia, saying that so only should the army have a prosperousvoyage from this place to Troy, and should take the city and destroyit; and how when I heard these words I bade Talthybius the herald gothroughout the army and bid them depart, every man to his own country, for that I would not do this thing; and how my brother, King Menelaüs, persuaded me so that I consented to it. Now, therefore, hearken tothis, for what I am about to tell thee three men only know, namely, Calchas the soothsayer, and Menelaüs, and Ulysses, king of Ithaca. Iwrote a letter to my wife the queen, that she should send her daughterto this place, that she might be married to King Achilles; and Imagnified the man to her, saying that he would in no wise sail with usunless I would give him my daughter in marriage. But now I havechanged my purpose and have written another letter after this fashion, as I will now set forth to thee: '_Daughter of Leda, send not thychild to the land of Eubœa, for I will give her in marriage atanother time. _'"

"Aye, " said the old man, "but how wilt thou deal with King Achilles?Will he not be wroth, hearing that he hath been cheated of his wife?"

"Not so, " answered the king, "for we have indeed used his name, but heknoweth nothing of this marriage. And now make haste. Sit not thoudown by any fountain in the woods, and suffer not thine eyes to sleep. And beware lest the chariot bearing the queen and her daughter passthee where the roads divide. And see that thou keep the seal upon thisletter unbroken. "

So the old man departed with the letter. But scarcely had he left thetent when King Menelaüs spied him and laid hands on him, taking theletter and breaking the seal. And the old man cried out:

"Help, my lord; here is one hath taken thy letter!"

Then King Agamemnon came forth from his tent, saying, "What meaneththis uproar and disputing that I hear?"

And Menelaüs answered, "Seest thou this letter that I hold in myhand?"

"I see it: it is mine. Give it to me. "

"I give it not till I have read that which is written therein to allthe army of the Greeks. "

"Where didst thou find it?"

"I found it while I waited for thy daughter till she should come tothe camp. "

"What hast thou to do with that? May I not rule my own household?"

Then Menelaüs reproached his brother because he did not continue inone mind. "For first, " he said, "before thou wast chosen captain ofthe host, thou wast all things to all men, greeting every mancourteously, and taking him by the hand, and talking with him, andleaving thy doors open to any that would enter; but afterwards, beingnow chosen, thou wast haughty and hard of access. And next, when thistrouble came upon the army, and thou wast sore afraid lest thoushouldst lose thy office and so miss renown, didst thou not hearken toCalchas the soothsayer, and promise thy daughter for sacrifice, andsend for her to the camp, making pretence of giving her in marriage toAchilles? And now thou art gone back from thy word. Surely this is anevil day for Greece, that is troubled because thou wantest wisdom. "

Then answered King Agamemnon: "What is thy quarrel with me? Whyblamest thou me if thou couldst not rule thy wife? And now to win backthis woman, because forsooth she is fair, thou castest aside bothreason and honor. And I, if I had an ill purpose and now have changedit for that which is wiser, dost thou charge me with folly? Let themthat sware the oath to Tyndareus go with thee on this errand. Whyshould I slay my child and work for myself sorrow and remorse withoutend that thou mayest have vengeance for thy wicked wife?"

Then Menelaüs turned away in a rage, crying, "Betray me if thou wilt. I will betake myself to other counsels and other friends. "

But even as he spake there came a messenger, saying, "King Agamemnon, I am come, as thou badest me, with thy daughter Iphigenia. Also hermother, Queen Clytæmnestra, is come, bringing with her her little sonOrestes. And now they are resting themselves and their horses by theside of a spring, for indeed the way is long and weary. And all thearmy is gathered about them to see them and greet them. And menquestion much wherefore they are come, saying. 'Doth the king make amarriage for his daughter; or hath he sent for her, desiring to seeher?' But I know thy purpose, my lord; wherefore we will dance andshout and make merry, for this is a happy day for the maiden. "

But the King Agamemnon was sore dismayed when he knew that the queenwas come, and spake to himself, "Now what shall I say to my wife? Forthat she is rightly come to the marriage of her daughter, who candeny? But what will she say when she knoweth my purpose? And of themaiden, what shall I say? Unhappy maiden whose bridegroom shall bedeath! For she will cry to me, 'Wilt thou kill me, my father?' And thelittle Orestes will wail, not knowing what he doeth, seeing he is buta babe. Cursed be Paris, who hath wrought this woe!"

And now King Menelaüs came back, saying that it repented him of whathe had said, "For why should thy child die for me? What hath she to dowith Helen? Let the army be scattered, so that this wrong be notdone. "

Then said King Agamemnon, "But how shall I escape from this strait?For the whole host will compel me to this deed?"

"Not so, " said King Menelaüs, "if thou wilt send back the maiden toArgos. "

"But what shall that profit, " said the king; "for Calchas will causethe matter to be known, or Ulysses, saying that I have failed of mypromise; and if I fly to Argos, they will come and destroy my city andlay waste my land. Woe is me! in what a strait am I set! But take thoucare, my brother, that Clytæmnestra hear nothing of these things. "

And when he had ended speaking, the queen herself came unto the tent, riding in a chariot, having her daughter by her side. And she bade oneof the attendants take out with care the caskets which she had broughtfor her daughter, and bade others help her daughter to alight andherself also, and to a fourth she said that he should take the youngOrestes. Then Iphigenia greeted her father, saying, "Thou hast donewell to send for me, my father. "

"'Tis true and yet not true, my child. "

"Thou lookest not well pleased to see me, my father. "

"He that is a king and commandeth a host hath many cares. "

"Put away thy cares awhile and give thyself to me. "

"I am glad beyond measure to see thee. "

"Glad art thou? Then why dost thou weep?"

"I weep because thou must be long time absent from me. "

"Perish all these fightings and troubles!"

"They will cause many to perish, and me most miserably of all. "

"Art thou going a journey from me, my father?"

"Aye, and thou also hast a journey to make. "

"Must I make it alone, or with my mother?"

"Alone; neither father nor mother may be with thee. "

"Sendest thou me to dwell elsewhere?"

"Hold thy peace: such things are not for maidens to inquire. "

"Well, my father, order matters with the Phrygians and then make hasteto return. "

"I must first make a sacrifice to the gods. "

"'Tis well. The gods should have due honor. "

"Aye, and thou wilt stand close to the altar. "

"Shall I lead the dances, my father?"

"O my child, how I envy thee, that thou knowest naught! And now gointo the tent; but first kiss me and give me thy hand, for thou shaltbe parted from thy father for many days. "

And when she was gone within, he cried, "O fair bosom and very lovelycheeks and yellow hair of my child! O city of Priam, what woe thoubringest on me! But I must say no more. "

Then he turned to the queen and excused himself that he wept when heshould rather have rejoiced for the marriage of his daughter. And whenthe queen would know of the estate of the bridegroom he told her thathis name was Achilles and that he was the son of Peleus by his wifeThetis, the daughter of Nereus of the sea, and that he dwelt inPhthia. And when she inquired of the time of the marriage, he saidthat it should be in the same moon, on the first lucky day; and as tothe place, that it must be where the bridegroom was sojourning, thatis to say, in the camp. "And I, " said the king, "will give the maidento her husband. "

"But where, " answered the queen, "is it your pleasure that I shouldbe?"

"Thou must return to Argos and care for the maidens there. "

"Sayest thou that I must return? Who then will hold up the torch forthe bride?"

"I will do that which is needful. For it is not seemly that thoushouldst be present where the whole army is gathered together. "

"Aye, but it is seemly that a mother should give her daughter inmarriage. "

"But the maidens at home should not be left alone. "

"They are well kept in their chambers. "

"Be persuaded, lady. "

"Not so: thou shalt order that which is without the house, but I thatwhich is within. "

But now came Achilles to tell the king that the army was growingimpatient, saying that unless they might sail speedily to Troy theywould return each man to his home. And when the queen heard hisname--for he had said to the attendant, "Tell thy master thatAchilles, the son of Peleus, would speak with him"--she came forthfrom the tent and greeted him and bade him give her his right hand. And when the young man was ashamed (for it was not counted a seemlything that men should speak with women) she said:

"But why art thou ashamed, seeing that thou art about to marry mydaughter?"

And he answered, "What sayest thou, lady? I cannot speak for wonder atthy words. "

"Often men are ashamed when they see new friends and the talk is ofmarriage. "

"But, lady, I never was suitor for thy daughter. Nor have the sons ofAtreus said aught to me of the matter. "

But the queen was beyond measure astonished, and cried, "Now this isshameful indeed, that I should seek a bridegroom for my daughter insuch fashion. "

But when Achilles would have departed, to inquire of the king whatthis thing might mean, the old man that had at the first carried theletter came forth and bade him stay. And when he had assurance that heshould receive no harm for what he should tell them, he unfolded thewhole matter. And when the queen had heard it, she cried to Achilles, "O son of Thetis of the sea! help me now in this strait and help thismaiden that hath been called thy bride, though this indeed be false. 'Twill be a shame to thee if such wrong be done under thy name; for itis thy name that hath undone us. Nor have I any altar to which I mayflee, nor any friend but thee only in this army. "

Then Achilles made answer, "Lady, I learnt from Chiron, who was themost righteous of men, to be true and honest. And if the sons ofAtreus govern according to right, I obey them; and if not, not. Know, then, that thy daughter, seeing that she hath been given, though butin word only, to me, shall not be slain by her father. For if she sodie, then shall my name be brought to great dishonor, seeing thatthrough it thou hast been persuaded to come with her to this place. This sword shall see right soon whether any one will dare to take thismaiden from me. "

And now King Agamemnon came forth, saying that all things were readyfor the marriage, and that they waited for the maiden, not knowingthat the whole matter had been revealed to the queen. Then she said:

"Tell me now, dost thou purpose to slay thy daughter and mine?" Andwhen he was silent, not knowing, indeed, what to say, she reproachedhim with many words, that she had been a loving and faithful wife tohim, for which he made her an ill recompense slaying her child. 

And when she had made an end of speaking, the maiden came forth fromthe tent, holding the young child Orestes in her arms, and castherself upon her knees before her father and besought him, saying, "Iwould, my father, that I had the voice of Orpheus, who made even therocks to follow him, that I might persuade thee; but now all that Ihave I give, even these tears. O my father, I am thy child; slay menot before my time. This light is sweet to look upon. Drive me notfrom it to the land of darkness. I was the first to call thee father;and the first to whom thou didst say 'my child. ' And thou wouldst sayto me, 'Some day, my child, I shall see thee a happy wife in the homeof a good husband. ' And I would answer, 'And I will receive thee withall love when thou art old, and pay thee back for all the benefitsthou hast done unto me. ' This I indeed remember, but thou forgettest;for thou art ready to slay me. Do it not, I beseech thee, by Pelopsthy grandsire, and Atreus thy father, and this my mother, whotravailed in childbirth of me and now travaileth again in her sorrow. And thou, O my brother, though thou art but a babe, help me. Weepwith me; beseech thy father that he slay not thy sister. O my father, though he be silent, yet, indeed, he beseecheth thee. For his sake, therefore, yea, and for mine own, have pity upon me and slay me not. "

But the king was sore distracted, knowing not what he should say ordo, for a terrible necessity was upon him, seeing that the army couldnot make their journey to Troy unless this deed should first be done. And while he doubted came Achilles, saying that there was a horribletumult in the camp, the men crying out that the maiden must besacrificed, and that when he would have stayed them from theirpurpose, the people had stoned him with stones, and that his ownMyrmidons helped him not, but rather were the first to assail him. Nevertheless, he said that he would fight for the maiden, even to theutmost, and that there were faithful men who would stand with him andhelp him. But when the maiden heard these words, she stood forth andsaid, "Hearken to me, my mother. Be not wroth with my father, for wecannot fight against fate. Also we must take thought that this youngman suffer not, for his help will avail naught and he himself willperish. Therefore I am resolved to die; for all Greece looketh to me;for without me the ships cannot make their voyage, nor the city ofTroy be taken. Thou didst bear me, my mother, not for thyself only, but for this whole people. Wherefore I will give myself for them. Offer me for an offering, and let the Greeks take the city of Troy, for this shall be my memorial forever. "

Then said Achilles, "Lady, I should count myself most happy if thegods would grant thee to be my wife. For I love thee well when I seehow noble thou art. And if thou wilt, I will carry thee to my home. And I doubt not that I shall save thee, though all the men of Greecebe against me. "

But the maiden answered, "What I say, I say with full purpose. Norwill I that any man should die for me, but rather will I save thisland of Greece. "

And Achilles said, "If this be thy will, lady, I cannot say nay, forit is a noble thing that thou doest. "

Nor was the maiden turned from her purpose though her mother besoughther with many tears. So they that were appointed led her to the groveof Artemis, where there was built an altar, and the whole army of theGreeks gathered about it. But when the king saw her going to her deathhe covered his face with his mantle; but she stood by him, and said, "I give my body with a willing heart to die for my country and for thewhole land of Greece. I pray the gods that ye may prosper and win thevictory in this war and come back safe to your homes. And now let noman touch me, for I will die with a good heart. "

And all men marveled to see the maiden of what a good courage she was. And all the army stood regarding the maiden and the priest and thealtar. 

Then there befell a marvelous thing. For suddenly the maiden was notthere. Whither she had gone no one knew; but in her stead there laygasping a great hind, and all the altar was red with the bloodthereof. 

And Calchas said, "See ye this, men of Greece, how the goddess hathprovided this offering in the place of the maiden, for she would notthat her altar should be defiled with innocent blood. Be of goodcourage, therefore, and depart every man to his ship, for this day yeshall sail across the sea to the land of Troy. "

Then the goddess carried away the maiden to the land of the Taurians, where she had a temple and an altar. Now on this altar the king of theland was wont to sacrifice any stranger, being Greek by nation, whowas driven by stress of weather to the place, for none went thitherwillingly. And the name of the king was Thoas, which signifieth inthe Greek tongue, "swift of foot. "

[Illustration: IPHIGENIA ABOUT TO BE SACRIFICED]

Now when the maiden had been there many years she dreamed a dream. Andin the dream she seemed to have departed from the land of the Tauriansand to dwell in the city of Argos, wherein she had been born. And asshe slept in the women's chamber there befell a great earthquake, andcast to the ground the palace of her fathers, so that there was leftone pillar only which stood upright. And as she looked on this pillar, yellow hair seemed to grow upon it as the hair of a man, and it spakewith a man's voice. And she did to it as she was wont to do to thestrangers that were sacrificed upon the altar, purifying it with waterand weeping the while. And the interpretation of the dream she judgedto be that her brother Orestes was dead, for that male children arethe pillars of a house, and that she only was left to the house of herfather. 

Now it chanced that at this same time Orestes, with Pylades that washis friend, came in a ship to the land of the Taurians. And the causeof his coming was this. After that he had slain his mother, takingvengeance for the death of King Agamemnon his father, the Furiespursued him. Then Apollo, who had commanded him to do this deed, badehim go to the land of Athens that he might be judged. And when he hadbeen judged and loosed, yet the Furies left him not. Wherefore Apollocommanded that he should sail for the land of the Taurians and carrythence the image of Artemis and bring it to the land of the Athenians, and that after this he should have rest. Now when the two were come tothe place, they saw the altar that it was red with the blood of themthat had been slain thereon. And Orestes doubted how they mightaccomplish the things for the which he was come, for the walls of thetemple were high and the gates not easy to be broken through. Therefore he would have fled to the ship, but Pylades consented not, seeing that they were not wont to go back from that to which they hadset their hand, but counseled that they should hide themselves duringthe day in a cave that was hard by the seashore, not near to the ship, lest search should be made for them, and that by night they shouldcreep into the temple by a space that there was between the pillars, and carry off the image, and so depart. 

So they hid themselves in a cavern by the sea. But it chanced thatcertain herdsmen were feeding their oxen in pastures hard by theshore; one of these, coming near to the cavern, spied the young men asthey sat therein, and stealing back to his fellows, said, "See ye notthem that sit yonder. Surely they are gods;" for they were exceedingtall and fair to look upon. And some began to pray to them, thinkingthat they might be the Twin Brethren or of the sons of Nereus. Butanother laughed and said, "Not so; these are shipwrecked men who hidethemselves, knowing that it is our custom to sacrifice strangers toour gods. " To him the others gave consent and said that they shouldtake the men prisoners that they might be sacrificed to the gods. 

But while they delayed, Orestes ran forth from the cave, for themadness was come upon him, crying out, "Pylades, seest thou not thatdragon from hell; and that who would kill me with the serpents of hermouth, and this again that breatheth out fire, holding my mother inher arms to cast her upon me?" And first he bellowed as a bull andthen howled as a dog, for the Furies, he said, did so. But theherdsmen, when they saw this, gathered together in great fear and satdown. But when Orestes drew his sword and leapt, as a lion might leap, into the midst of the herd, slaying the beasts (for he thought in hismadness that he was contending with the Furies), then the herdsmen, blowing on shells, called to the people of the land; for they fearedthe young men, so strong they seemed and valiant. And when no smallnumber was gathered together, they began to cast stones and javelinsat the two. And now the madness of Orestes began to abate, and Pyladestended him carefully, wiping away the foam from his mouth and holdinghis garments before him that he should not be wounded by the stones. But when Orestes came to himself and beheld in what straits they were, he groaned aloud and cried, "We must die, O Pylades, only let us dieas befitteth brave men. Draw thy sword and follow me. " And the peopleof the land dared not to stand before them; yet while some fled, others would cast stones at them. For all that no man wounded them. But at the last, coming about them with a great multitude, they smotethe swords out of their hands with stones, and so bound them and tookthem to King Thoas. And the king commanded that they should be takento the temple, that the priestess might deal with them according tothe custom of the place. 

So they brought the young men bound to the temple. Now the name of theone they knew, for they had heard his companion call to him, but thename of the other they knew not. And when Iphigenia saw them, she badethe people loose their bonds, for that being holy to the goddess theywere free. And then--for she took the two for brothers--she askedthem, saying, "Who is your mother and your father and your sister, ifa sister you have? She will be bereaved of noble brothers this day. And whence come ye?"

To her Orestes answered, "What meanest thou, lady, by lamenting inthis fashion over us? I hold it folly in him who must die that heshould bemoan himself. Pity us not; we know what manner of sacrificesye have in this land. "

"Tell me now, which of ye two is called Pylades?"

"Not I, but this my companion. "

"Of what city in the land of Greece are ye? And are ye brothers bornof one mother?"

"Brothers we are, but in friendship, not in blood. "

"And what is thy name?"

"That I tell thee not. Thou hast power over my body, but not over myname. "

"Wilt thou not tell me thy country?"

And when he told her that his country was Argos, she asked him manythings, as about Troy, and Helen, and Calchas the prophet, andUlysses; and at last she said, "And Achilles, son of Thetis of thesea, is he yet alive?"

"He is dead and his marriage that was made at Aulis is of no effect. "

"A false marriage it was, as some know full well. "

"Who art thou that inquirest thus about matters in Greece?"

"I am of the land of Greece and was brought thence yet being a child. But there was a certain Agamemnon, son of Atreus; what of him?"

"I know not. Lady, leave all talk of him. "

"Say not so; but do me a pleasure and tell me. "

"He is dead. "

"Woe is me! How died he?"

"What meaneth thy sorrow? Art thou of his kindred?"

"'Tis a pity to think how great he was, and now he hath perished. "

"He was slain in a most miserable fashion by a woman, but ask nomore. "

"Only this one thing. Is his wife yet alive?"

"Nay; for the son whom she bare slew her, taking vengeance for hisfather. "

"A dreadful deed, but righteous withal. "

"Righteous indeed he is, but the gods love him not. "

"And did the king leave any other child behind him?"

"One daughter, Electra by name. "

"And is his son yet alive?"

"He is alive, but no man more miserable. "

Now when Iphigenia heard that he was alive and knew that she had beendeceived by the dreams which she had dreamt, she conceived a thoughtin her heart and said to Orestes, "Hearken now, for I have somewhat tosay to thee that shall bring profit both to thee and to me. Wilt thou, if I save thee from this death, carry tidings of me to Argos to myfriends and bear a tablet from me to them? For such a tablet I havewith me, which one who was brought captive to this place wrote for me, pitying me, for he knew that I caused not his death, but the law ofthe goddess in this place. Nor have I yet found a man who should carrythis thing to Argos. But thou, I judge, art of noble birth and knowestthe city and those with whom I would have communication. Take thenthis tablet and thy life as a reward, and let this man be sacrificedto the goddess. "

Then Orestes made answer, "Thou hast said well, lady, save in onething only. That this man should be sacrificed in my stead pleaseth menot at all. For I am he that brought this voyage to pass; and this mancame with me that he might help me in my troubles. Wherefore it wouldbe a grievous wrong that he should suffer in my stead and I escape. Give then the tablet to him. He shall take it to the city of Argos andthou shalt have what thou wilt. But as for me, let them slay me ifthey will. "

"'Tis well spoken, young man. Thou art come, I know, of a noble stock. The gods grant that my brother--for I have a brother, though he be farhence--may be such as thou. It shall be as thou wilt. This man shalldepart with the tablet and thou shalt die. "

Then Orestes would know the manner of the death by which he must die. And she told him that she slew not the victims with her own hand, butthat there were ministers in the temple appointed to this office, shepreparing them for sacrifice beforehand. Also she said that his bodywould be burned with fire. 

And when Orestes had wished that the hand of his sister might pay duehonor to him in his death, she said, "This may not be, for she is faraway from this strange land. But yet, seeing that thou art a man ofArgos, I myself will adorn thy tomb and pour oil of olives and honeyon thy ashes. " Then she departed, that she might fetch the tablet fromher dwelling, bidding the attendants keep the young men fast, butwithout bonds. 

But when she was gone, Orestes said to Pylades, "Pylades, whatthinkest thou? Who is this maiden? She had great knowledge of thingsin Troy and Argos, and of Calchas the wise soothsayer, and of Achillesand the rest. And she made lamentation over King Agamemnon. She mustbe of Argos. "

And Pylades answered, "This I cannot say; all men have knowledge ofwhat befell the king. But hearken to this. It were shame to me to liveif thou diest. I sailed with thee and will die with thee. Forotherwise men will account lightly of me both in Argos and in Phocis, which is my own land, thinking that I betrayed thee or basely slewthee, that I might have thy kingdom, marrying thy sister, who shallinherit it in thy stead. Not so: I will die with thee and my bodyshall be burnt together with thine. "

But Orestes answered, "I must bear my own troubles. This indeed wouldbe a shameful thing, that when thou seekest to help me I shoulddestroy thee. But as for me, seeing how the gods deal with me, it iswell that I should die. Thou, indeed, art happy, and thy house isblessed; but my house is accursed. Go, therefore, and my sister, whomI have given thee to wife, shall bear thee children, and the house ofmy father shall not perish. And I charge thee that when thou art safereturned to the city of Argos, thou do these things. First, thou shaltbuild a tomb for me, and my sister shall make an offering there of herhair and of her tears also. And tell her that I died, slain by a womanof Argos that offered me as an offering to her gods; and I charge theethat thou leave not my sister, but be faithful to her. And nowfarewell, true friend and companion in my toils; for indeed I die, andPhœbus hath lied unto me, prophesying falsely. "

And Pylades swore to him that he would build him a tomb and be a truehusband to his sister. After this Iphigenia came forth, holding atablet in her hand. And she said, "Here is the tablet of which Ispake. But I fear lest he to whom I shall give it shall haply take noaccount of it when he is returned to the land. Therefore I would fainbind him with an oath that he will deliver it to them that should haveit in the city of Argos. " And Orestes consented, saying that she alsoshould bind herself with an oath that she would deliver one of the twofrom death. So she sware by Artemis that she would persuade the king, and deliver Pylades from death. And Pylades sware on his part by Zeus, the father of heaven, that he would give the tablet to those whom itshould concern. And having sworn it, he said, "But what if a stormovertake me and the tablet be lost and I only be saved?"

"I will tell thee what hath been written in the tablet; and if itperish, thou shalt tell them again; but if not, then thou shalt giveit as I bid thee. "

"And to whom shall I give it?"

"Thou shalt give it to Orestes, son of Agamemnon. And that which iswritten therein is this: '_I that was sacrificed in Aulis, evenIphigenia, who am alive and yet dead to my own people, bid thee----_'"

But when Orestes heard this, he brake in, "Where is this Iphigenia?Hath the dead come back among the living?"

"Thou seest her in me. But interrupt me not. '_I bid thee fetch mebefore I die to Argos from a strange land, taking me from the altarthat is red with the blood of strangers, whereat I serve. _' And ifOrestes ask by what means I am alive, thou shalt say that Artemis puta hind in my stead, and that the priest, thinking that he smote mewith the knife, slew the beast, and that the goddess brought me tothis land. "

Then said Pylades, "My oath is easy to keep. Orestes, take thou thistablet from thy sister. "

Then Orestes embraced his sister, crying--for she turned from him, notknowing what she should think--"O my sister, turn not from me; for Iam thy brother whom thou didst not think to see. "

And when she yet doubted, he told her of certain things by which shemight know him to be Orestes--how that she had woven a tapestrywherein was set forth the strife between Atreus and Thyestesconcerning the golden lamb; and that she had given a lock of her hairat Aulis to be a memorial of her; and that there was laid in herchamber at Argos the ancient spear of Pelops, her father's grandsire, with which he slew Œnomaüs and won Hippodamia to be his wife. 

And when she heard this, she knew that he was indeed Orestes, whom, being an infant and the latest born of his mother, she had in timepast held in her arms. But when the two had talked together for aspace, rejoicing over each other and telling the things that hadbefallen them, Pylades said, "Greetings of friends after long partingare well; but we must needs consider how best we shall escape fromthis land of the barbarians. "

But Iphigenia answered, "Yet nothing shall hinder me from knowing howfareth my sister Electra. "

"She is married, " said Orestes, "to this Pylades, whom thou seest. "

"And of what country is he and who is his father?"

"His father is Strophius the Phocian; and he is a kinsman, for hismother was the daughter of Atreus and a friend also such as none otheris to me. "

Then Orestes set forth to his sister the cause of his coming to theland of the Taurians. And he said, "Now help me in this, my sister, that we may bear away the image of the goddess; for so doing I shallbe quit of my madness, and thou wilt be brought to thy native countryand the house of thy father shall prosper. But if we do it not, thenshall we perish altogether. "

And Iphigenia doubted much how this thing might be done. But at thelast she said, "I have a device whereby I shall compass the matter. Iwill say that thou art come hither, having murdered thy mother, andthat thou canst not be offered for a sacrifice till thou art purifiedwith the water of the sea. Also that thou hast touched the image, andthat this also must be purified in like manner. And the image I myselfwill bear to the sea; for, indeed, I only may touch it with my hands. And of this Pylades also I will say that he is polluted in like mannerwith thee. So shall we three win our way to the ship. And that this beready it will be thy care to provide. "

And when she had so said, she prayed to Artemis: "Great goddess, thatdidst bring me safe in days past from Aulis, bring me now also, andthese that are with me, safe to the land of Greece, so that men maycount thy brother Apollo to be a true prophet. Nor shouldst thou beunwilling to depart from this barbarous land and to dwell in the faircity of Athens. "

After this came King Thoas, inquiring whether they had offered thestrangers for sacrifice and had duly burnt their bodies with fire. Tohim Iphigenia made answer, "These were unclean sacrifices that thoubroughtest to me, O King. "

"How didst thou learn this?"

"The image of the goddess turned upon her place of her own accord andcovered also her face with her hands. "

"What wickedness, then, had these strangers wrought?"

"They slew their mother and had been banished therefor from the landof Greece. "

"O monstrous! Such deeds we barbarians never do. And now what dostthou purpose?"

"We must purify these strangers before we offer them for a sacrifice. "

"With water from the river, or in the sea?"

"In the sea. The sea cleanseth away all that is evil among men. "

"Well, thou hast it here, by the very walls of the temple. "

"Aye, but I must seek a place apart from men. "

"So be it; go where thou wilt; I would not look on things forbidden. "

"The image also must be purified. "

"Surely, if the pollution from these murderers of their mother hathtouched it. This is well thought of in thee. "

Then she instructed the king that he should bring the strangers out ofthe temple, having first bound them and veiled their heads. Also thatcertain of his guards should go with her, but that all the people ofthe city should be straitly commanded to stay within doors, that sothey might not be defiled; and that he himself should abide in thetemple and purify it with fire, covering his head with his garmentswhen the strangers should pass by. "And be not troubled, " she said, "if I seem to be long doing these things. "

"Take what time thou wilt, " he said, "so that thou do all things inorder. "

So certain of the king's guards brought the two young men from out ofthe temple, and Iphigenia led them towards the place where the shipof Orestes lay at anchor. But when they were come near to the shore, she bade them halt nor come over-near, for that she had that to do inwhich they must have no part. And she took the chain wherewith theyoung men were bound in her hands and set up a strange song as of onethat sought enchantments. And after that the guards sat where she badethem for a long time, they began to fear lest the strangers shouldhave slain the priestess and so fled. Yet they moved not, fearing tosee that which was forbidden. But at the last with one consent theyrose up. And when they were come to the sea, they saw the ship trimmedto set forth, and fifty sailors on the benches having oars in theirhands ready for rowing; and the two young men were standing unboundupon the shore near to the stern. And other sailors were dragging theship by the cable to the shore that the young men might embark. Thenthe guards laid hold of the rudder and sought to take it from itsplace, crying, "Who are ye that carry away priestesses and the imagesof our gods?" Then Orestes said, "I am Orestes, and I carry away mysister. " But the guards laid hold of Iphigenia; and when the sailorssaw this they leapt from the ship; and neither the one nor the otherhad swords in their hands, but they fought with their fists and theirfeet also. And as the sailors were strong and skilful, the king's menwere driven back sorely bruised and wounded. And when they fled to abank that was hard by and cast stones at the ship, the archersstanding on the stern shot at them with arrows. Then--for his sisterfeared to come farther--Orestes leapt into the sea and raised her uponhis shoulder and so lifted her into the ship, and the image of thegoddess with her. And Pylades cried, "Lay hold of your oars, yesailors, and smite the sea, for we have that for the which we came tothis land. " So the sailors rowed with all their might; and while theship was in the harbor it went well with them, but when it was cometo the open sea a great wave took it, for a violent wind blew againstit and drove it backwards to the shore. 

And one of the guards when he saw this ran to King Thoas and told him, and the king made haste and sent messengers mounted upon horses, tocall the men of the land that they might do battle with Orestes andhis comrade. But while he was yet sending them, there appeared in theair above his head the goddess Athene, who spake, saying, "Cease, KingThoas, from pursuing this man and his companions; for he hath comehither on this errand by the command of Apollo; and I have persuadedPoseidon that he make the sea smooth for him to depart. "

And King Thoas answered, "It shall be as thou wilt, O goddess; andthough Orestes hath borne away his sister and the image, I dismiss myanger, for who can fight against the gods?"

So Orestes departed and came to his own country and dwelt in peace, being set free from his madness, according to the word of Apollo. 

THE SACK OF TROY

[Illustration: THE TROJAN HORSE]

For ten years King Agamemnon and the men of Greece laid siege to Troy. But though sentence had gone forth against the city, yet the day ofits fall tarried, because certain of the gods loved it well anddefended it, as Apollo and Mars, the god of war, and Father Jupiterhimself. Wherefore Minerva put it into the heart of Epeius, Lord ofthe Isles, that he should make a cunning device wherewith to take thecity. Now the device was this: he made a great horse of wood, feigningit to be a peace-offering to Minerva, that the Greeks might have asafe return to their homes. In the belly of this there hid themselvescertain of the bravest of the chiefs, as Menelaüs, and Ulysses, andThoas the Ætolian, and Machaon the great physician, and Pyrrhus, sonof Achilles (but Achilles himself was dead, slain by Paris, Apollohelping, even as he was about to take the city), and others also, andwith them Epeius himself. But the rest of the people made as if theyhad departed to their homes; only they went not further than Tenedos, which was an island near to the coast. 

Great joy was there in Troy when it was noised abroad that the men ofGreece had departed. The gates were opened, and the people went forthto see the plain and the camp. And one said to another as they went, "Here they set the battle in array, and there were the tents of thefierce Achilles, and there lay the ships. " And some stood and marveledat the great peace-offering to Minerva, even the horse of wood. AndThymœtes, who was one of the elders of the city, was the first whoadvised that it should be brought within the walls and set in thecitadel. Now whether he gave this counsel out of a false heart orbecause the gods would have it so, no man knows. But Capys, and otherswith him, said that it should be drowned in water or burned with fire, or that men should pierce it and see whether there were aught within. And the people were divided, some crying one thing and some another. Then came forward the priest Laocoön, and a great company with him, crying, "What madness is this? Think ye that the men of Greece areindeed departed or that there is any profit in their gifts? Surelythere are armed men in this mighty horse; or haply they have made itthat they may look down upon our walls. Touch it not, for as for thesemen of Greece, I fear them, even though they bring gifts in theirhands. "

And as he spake he cast his great spear at the horse, so that itsounded again. But the gods would not that Troy should be saved. 

Meanwhile there came certain shepherds dragging with them one whosehands were bound behind his back. He had come forth to them, theysaid, of his own accord when they were in the field. And first theyoung men gathered about him mocking him, but when he cried aloud, "What place is left for me, for the Greeks suffer me not to live andthe men of Troy cry for vengeance upon me?" they rather pitied him, and bade him speak and say whence he came and what he had to tell. 

Then the man spake, turning to King Priam: "I will speak the truth, whatever befall me. My name is Sinon and I deny not that I am a Greek. Haply thou hast heard the name of Palamedes, whom the Greeks slew, butnow, being dead, lament; and the cause was that because he counseledpeace, men falsely accused him of treason. Now, of this Palamedes Iwas a poor kinsman and followed him to Troy. And when he was dead, through the false witness of Ulysses, I lived in great grief andtrouble, nor could I hold my peace, but sware that if ever I came backto Argos I would avenge me of him that had done this deed. Then didUlysses seek occasion against me, whispering evil things, nor restedtill at the last, Calchas the soothsayer helping him--but what profitit that I should tell these things? For doubtless ye hold one Greek tobe even as another. Wherefore slay me and doubtless ye will do apleasure to Ulysses and the sons of Atreus. "

Then they bade him tell on, and he said:

"Often would the Greeks have fled to their homes, being weary of thewar, but still the stormy sea hindered them. And when this horse thatye see had been built, most of all did the dreadful thunder roll fromthe one end of the heaven to the other. Then the Greeks sent one whoshould inquire of Apollo; and Apollo answered them thus: 'Men ofGreece, even as ye appeased the winds with blood when ye came to Troy, so must ye appease them with blood now that ye would go from thence. 'Then did men tremble to think on whom the doom should fall, andUlysses, with much clamor, drew forth Calchas the soothsayer into themidst, and bade him say who it was that the gods would have as asacrifice. Then did many forbode evil for me. Ten days did thesoothsayer keep silence, saying that he would not give any man todeath. But then, for in truth the two had planned the matterbeforehand, he spake, appointing me to die. And to this thing they allagreed, each being glad to turn to another that which he feared forhimself. But when the day was come and all things were ready, thesalted meal for the sacrifice and the garlands, lo! I burst my bondsand fled and hid myself in the sedges of a pool, waiting till theyshould have set sail, if haply that might be. But never shall I seecountry or father or children again. For doubtless on these will theytake vengeance for my flight. Only do thou, O King, have pity on me, who have suffered many things, not having harmed any man. "

And King Priam had pity on him, and bade them loose his bonds, saying, "Whoever thou art, forget now thy country. Henceforth thou art one ofus. But tell me true: why made they this huge horse? Who contrived it?What seek they by it--to please the gods or to further their siege?"

Then said Sinon, and as he spake he stretched his hands to the sky, "Icall you to witness, ye everlasting fires of heaven, that with goodright I now break my oath of fealty and reveal the secrets of mycountrymen. Listen then, O King. All our hope has ever been in thehelp of Minerva. But from the day when Diomed and Ulysses dared, having bloody hands, to snatch her image from her holy place in Troy, her face was turned from us. Well do I remember how the eyes of theimage, well-nigh before they had set it in the camp, blazed withwrath, and how the salt sweat stood upon its limbs, aye, and how itthrice leapt from the ground, shaking shield and spear. Then Calchastold us that we must cross the seas again and seek at home fresh omensfor our war. And this, indeed, they are doing even now, and willreturn anon. Also the soothsayer said, 'Meanwhile ye must make thelikeness of a horse, to be a peace-offering to Minerva. And take heedthat ye make it huge of bulk, so that the men of Troy may not receiveit into their gates, nor bring it within their walls and get safetyfor themselves thereby. For if, ' he said, 'the men of Troy harm thisimage at all, they shall surely perish; but if they bring it intotheir city, then shall Asia lay siege hereafter to the city of Pelops, and our children shall suffer the doom which we would fain havebrought on Troy. '"

These words wrought much on the men of Troy, and as they pondered onthem, lo! the gods sent another marvel to deceive them. For whileLaocoön, the priest of Neptune, was slaying a bull at the altar of hisgod, there came two serpents across the sea from Tenedos, whose headsand necks, whereon were thick manes of hair, were high above thewaves, and many scaly coils trailed behind in the waters. And whenthey reached the land they still sped forward. Their eyes were red asblood and blazed with fire and their forked tongues hissed loud forrage. Then all the men of Troy grew pale with fear and fled away, butthese turned not aside this way or that, seeking Laocoön where hestood. And first they wrapped themselves about his little sons, oneserpent about each, and began to devour them. And when the fatherwould have given help to his children, having a sword in his hand, they seized upon himself and bound him fast with their folds. Twicethey compassed him about his body, and twice about his neck, liftingtheir heads far above him. And all the while he strove to tear themaway with his hands, his priest's garlands dripping with blood. Nordid he cease to cry horribly aloud, even as a bull bellows when afteran ill stroke of the axe it flees from the altar. But when their workwas done, the two glided to the citadel of Minerva and hid themselvesbeneath the feet and the shield of the goddess. And men said one toanother, "Lo! the priest Laocoön has been judged according to hisdeeds; for he cast his spear against this holy thing, and now the godshave slain him. " Then all cried out together that the horse of woodmust be drawn to the citadel. Whereupon they opened the Scæan Gate andpulled down the wall that was thereby, and put rollers under the feetof the horse and joined ropes thereto. So in much joy they drew itinto the city, youths and maidens singing about it the while andlaying their hands to the ropes with great gladness. And yet therewanted no signs and tokens of evil to come. Four times it halted onthe threshold of the gate, and men might have heard a clashing of armswithin. Cassandra also opened her mouth, prophesying evil; but no manheeded her, for that was ever the doom upon her, not to be believed, though speaking truth. So the men of Troy drew the horse into thecity. And that night they kept a feast to all the gods with great joynot knowing that the last day of the great city had come. 

But when night was now fully come and the men of Troy lay asleep, lo!from the ship of King Agamemnon there rose up a flame for a signal tothe Greeks; and these straightway manned their ships and made acrossthe sea from Tenedos, there being a great calm and the moon alsogiving them light. Sinon likewise opened a secret door that was in thegreat horse and the chiefs issued forth therefrom and opened the gatesof the city, slaying those that kept watch. 

Meanwhile there came a vision to Æneas, who now, Hector being dead, was the chief hope and stay of the men of Troy. It was Hector's selfthat he seemed to see, but not such as he had seen him coming backrejoicing with the arms of Achilles or setting fire to the ships, buteven as he lay after that Achilles dragged him at his chariot wheels, covered with dust, and blood, his feet swollen and pierced throughwith thongs. To him said Æneas, not knowing what he said, "Why hastthou tarried so long? Much have we suffered waiting for thee! And whatgrief hath marked thy face, and whence these wounds?"

But to this the spirit answered nothing, but said, groaning the while, "Fly, son of Venus, fly and save thee from these flames. The enemy isin the walls and Troy hath utterly perished. If any hand could havesaved our city, this hand had done so. Thou art now the hope of Troy. Take then her gods and flee with them for company, seeking the citythat thou shalt one day build across the sea. "

And now the alarm of battle came nearer and nearer, and Æneas, wakingfrom sleep, climbed upon the roof and looked on the city. As ashepherd stands and sees a fierce flame sweeping before the south windover the corn-fields or a flood rushing down from the mountains, so hestood. And as he looked, the great palace of Deïphobus sank down inthe fire and the house of Ucalegon that was hard by, blazed forth, till the sea by Sigeüm shone with the light. Then, scarce knowing whathe sought, he girded on his armor, thinking perchance that he mightyet win some place of vantage or at the least might avenge himself onthe enemy or find honor in his death. But as he passed from out of hishouse there met him Panthus, the priest of Apollo that was on thecitadel, who cried to him, "O Æneas, the glory is departed from Troyand the Greeks have the mastery in the city; for armed men are comingforth from the great horse of wood and thousands also swarm in at thegates, which Sinon hath treacherously opened. " And as he spake otherscame up under the light of the moon, as Hypanis and Dymas and youngCorœbus, who had but newly come to Troy, seeking Cassandra to behis wife. To whom Æneas spake: "If ye are minded, my brethren, tofollow me to the death, come on. For how things fare this night yesee. The gods who were the stay of this city have departed from it;nor is aught remaining to which we may bring succor. Yet can we die asbrave men in battle. And haply he that counts his life to be lost mayyet save it. " Then, even as ravening wolves hasten through the mistseeking for prey, so they went through the city, doing dreadful deeds. And for a while the men of Greece fled before them. 

First of all there met them Androgeos with a great company followinghim, who, thinking them to be friends, said, "Haste, comrades; why areye so late? We are spoiling this city of Troy and ye are but newlycome from the ships. " But forthwith, for they answered him not as hehad looked for, he knew that he had fallen among enemies. Then even asone who treads upon a snake unawares among thorns and flies from itwhen it rises angrily against him with swelling neck, so Androgeoswould have fled. But the men of Troy rushed on and, seeing that theyknew all the place and that great fear was upon the Greeks, slew manymen. Then said Corœbus, "We have good luck in this matter, myfriends. Come now, let us change our shields and put upon us the armorof these Greeks. For whether we deal with our enemy by craft or byforce, who will ask?" Then he took to himself the helmet and shield ofAndrogeos and also girded the sword upon him. In like manner did theothers, and thus, going disguised among the Greeks, slew many, so thatsome again fled to the ships and some were fain to climb into thehorse of wood. But lo! men came dragging by the hair from the templeof Minerva the virgin Cassandra, whom when Corœbus beheld, and howshe lifted up her eyes to heaven (but as for her hands, they werebound with iron), he endured not the sight, but threw himself uponthose that dragged her, the others following him. Then did a grievousmischance befall them, for the men of Troy that stood upon the roof ofthe temple cast spears against them, judging them to be enemies. TheGreeks also, being wroth that the virgin should be taken from them, fought the more fiercely, and many who had before been put to flightin the city came against them and prevailed, being indeed many againstfew. Then first of all fell Corœbus, being slain by Peneleus theBœotian, and Rhipeus also, the most righteous of all the sons ofTroy. But the gods dealt not with him after his righteousness. Hypanisalso was slain and Dymas, and Panthus escaped not for all that morethan other men he feared the gods and was also the priest of Apollo. 

Then was Æneas severed from the rest, having with him two only, Iphitus and Pelias, Iphitus being an old man and Pelias sorely woundedby Ulysses. And these, hearing a great shouting, hastened to thepalace of King Priam, where the battle was fiercer than in any placebeside. For some of the Greeks were seeking to climb the walls, layingladders thereto, whereon they stood, holding forth their shields withtheir left hands and with their right grasping the roofs. And the menof Troy, on the other hand, being in the last extremity, tore down thebattlements and the gilded beams wherewith the men of old had adornedthe palace. Then Æneas, knowing of a secret door whereby the unhappyAndromache in past days had been wont to enter, bringing her sonAstyanax to his grandfather, climbed on to the roof and joined himselfto those that fought therefrom. Now upon this roof there was a tower, whence all Troy could be seen and the camp of the Greeks and theships. This the men of Troy loosened from its foundations with bars ofiron, and thrust it over, so that it fell upon the enemy, slaying manyof them. But not the less did others press forward, casting the whilestones and javelins and all that came to their hands. 

Meanwhile others sought to break down the gates of the palace, Pyrrhus, son of Achilles, being foremost among them, clad in shiningarmor of bronze. Like to a serpent was he, which sleeps indeed duringthe winter, but in the spring comes forth into the light, full-fed onevil herbs, and, having cast his skin and renewed his youth, lifts hishead into the light of the sun and hisses with forked tongue. And withPyrrhus were tall Periphas, and Automedon, who had been armor-bearerto his father Achilles, and following them the youth of Scyros, whichwas the kingdom of his grandfather Lycomedes. With a great battle-axehe hewed through the doors, breaking down also the door-posts, thoughthey were plated with bronze, making, as it were, a great window, through which a man might see the palace within, the hall of KingPriam and of the kings who had reigned aforetime in Troy. But whenthey that were within perceived it, there arose a great cry of womenwailing aloud and clinging to the doors and kissing them. But everPyrrhus pressed on, fierce and strong as ever was his father Achilles, nor could aught stand against him, either the doors or they thatguarded them. Then, as a river bursts its banks and overflows theplain, so did the sons of Greece rush into the palace. 

But old Priam, when he saw the enemy in his hall, girded on him hisarmor, which now by reason of old age he had long laid aside, and tooka spear in his hand and would have gone against the adversary, onlyQueen Hecuba called to him from where she sat. For she and herdaughters had fled to the great altar of the household gods and satcrowded about it like unto doves that are driven by a storm. Now thealtar stood in an open court that was in the midst of the palace, witha great bay-tree above it. So when she saw Priam, how he had girdedhimself with armor as a youth, she cried to him and said, "What hathbewitched thee, that thou girdest thyself with armor? It is not thesword that shall help us this day; no, not though my own Hector werehere, but rather the gods and their altars. Come hither to us, forhere thou wilt be safe, or at the least wilt die with us. "

So she made the old man sit down in the midst. But lo! there cameflying through the palace, Polites, his son, wounded to death by thespear of Pyrrhus, and Pyrrhus close behind him. And he, even as hecame into the sight of his father and his mother, fell dead upon theground. But when King Priam saw it he contained not himself, but criedaloud, "Now may the gods, if there be any justice in heaven, recompense thee for this wickedness, seeing that thou hast not sparedto slay the son before his father's eyes. Great Achilles, whom thoufalsely callest thy sire, did not thus to Priam, though he was anenemy, but reverenced right and truth and gave the body of Hector forburial and sent me back to my city. "

And as he spake the old man cast a spear, but aimless and withoutforce, which pierced not even the boss of the shield. Then said theson of Achilles, "Go thou and tell my father of his unworthy son andall these evils deeds. And that thou mayest tell him die!" And as hespake he caught in his left hand the old man's white hair and draggedhim, slipping the while in the blood of his own son, to the altar, andthen, lifting his sword high for a blow, drove it to the hilt in theold man's side. So King Priam, who had ruled mightily over manypeoples and countries in the land of Asia, was slain that night, having first seen Troy burning about him and his citadel laid evenwith the ground. So was his carcass cast out upon the earth, headlessand without a name. 

BEOWULF AND GRENDEL

Long ago there ruled over the Danes a king called Hrothgar. He gainedsuccess and glory in war, so that his loyal kinsmen willingly obeyedhim, and everything prospered in his land. 

One day it came into his mind that he would build a princelybanquet-hall, where he might entertain both the young and old of hiskingdom; and he had the work widely made known to many a tribe overthe earth, so that they might bring rich gifts to beautify the hall. 

In course of time the banquet-house was built and towered aloft, highand battlemented. Then Hrothgar gave it the name of Heorot, and calledhis guests to the banquet, and gave them gifts of rings and othertreasures; and afterwards every day the joyous sound of revelry rangloud in the hall, with the music of the harp and the clear notes ofthe singers. 

But it was not long before the pleasure of the king's men was broken, for a wicked demon began to work mischief against them. This cruelspirit was called Grendel, and he dwelt on the moors and among thefens. One night he came to Heorot when the noble guests lay at restafter the feast, and seizing thirty thanes as they slept, set off onhis homeward journey, exulting in his booty. 

At break of day his deed was known to all men, and great was the griefamong the thanes. The good King Hrothgar also sat in sorrow, sufferingheavy distress for the death of his warriors. 

Not long afterwards Grendel again appeared, and wrought a yet worsedeed of murder. After that the warriors no longer dared to sleep atHeorot, but sought out secret resting-places, leaving the great houseempty. 

A long time passed. For the space of twelve winters Grendel waged aperpetual feud against Hrothgar and his people; the livelong night heroamed over the misty moors, visiting Heorot, and destroying both thetried warriors and the young men whenever he was able. Hrothgar wasbroken-hearted, and many were the councils held in secret todeliberate what it were best to do against these fearful terrors; butnothing availed to stop the fiend's ravages. 

Now the tale of Grendel's deeds went forth into many lands; andamongst those who heard of it were the Geats, whose king was Higelac. Chief of his thanes was a noble and powerful warrior named Beowulf, who resolved to go to the help of the Danes. He bade his men makeready a good sea-boat, that he might go across the wild swan's path toseek out Hrothgar and aid him; and his people encouraged him to go onthat dangerous errand even though he was dear to them. 

So Beowulf chose fourteen of his keenest warriors, and sailed awayover the waves in his well-equipped vessel, till he came within sightof the cliffs and mountains of Hrothgar's kingdom. The Danish warder, who kept guard over the coast, saw them as they were making their shipfast and carrying their bright weapons on shore. So he mounted hishorse and rode to meet them, bearing in his hand his staff of office;and he questioned them closely as to whence they came and what theirbusiness was. 

Then Beowulf explained their errand, and the warder, when he had heardit, bade them pass onwards, bearing their weapons, and gave ordersthat their ship should be safely guarded. 

Soon they came within sight of the fair palace Heorot, and the wardershowed them the way to Hrothgar's court, and then bade them farewell, and returned to keep watch upon the coast. 

Then the bold thanes marched forward to Heorot, their armor and theirweapons glittering as they went. Entering the hall, they set theirshields and bucklers against the walls, placed their spears upright ina sheaf together, and sat down on the benches, weary with theirseafaring. 

Then a proud liegeman of Hrothgar's stepped forward and asked:

"Whence bring ye your shields, your gray war-shirts and frowninghelmets, and this sheaf of spears? Never saw I men of more valiantaspect. "

"We are Higelac's boon companions, " answered Beowulf. "Beowulf is myname, and I desire to declare my errand to the great prince, thy lord, if he will grant us leave to approach him. "

So Wulfgar, another of Hrothgar's chieftains, went out to the kingwhere he sat with the assembly of his earls and told him of thearrival of the strangers, and Hrothgar received the news with joy, forhe had known Beowulf when he was a boy, and had heard of his fame as awarrior. Therefore he bade Wulfgar bring him to his presence, and soonBeowulf stood before him and cried:

"Hail to thee, Hrothgar! I have heard the tale of Grendel, and mypeople, who know my strength and prowess, have counseled me to seekthee out. For I have wrought great deeds in the past, and now I shalldo battle against this monster. Men say that so thick is his tawnyhide that no weapon can injure him. I therefore disdain to carry swordor shield into the combat, but will fight with the strength of my armonly, and either I will conquer the fiend or he will bear away my deadbody to the moor. Send to Higelac, if I fall in the fight, mybeautiful breastplate. I have no fear of death, for Destiny must everbe obeyed. "

Then Hrothgar told Beowulf of the great sorrow caused to him byGrendel's terrible deeds, and of the failure of all the attempts thathad been made by the warriors to overcome him; and afterwards he badehim sit down with his followers to partake of a meal. 

So a bench was cleared for the Geats, and a thane waited upon them, and all the noble warriors gathered together, and a great feast washeld once more in Heorot with song and revelry. Waltheow, Hrothgar'squeen, came forth also, and handed the wine-cup to each of the thanes, pledging the king in joyful mood and thanking Beowulf for his offer ofhelp. 

At last all the company arose to go to rest; and Hrothgar entrustedthe guardianship of Heorot to Beowulf with cheering words, and so badehim good night. Then all left the hall, save only a watch appointed byHrothgar, and Beowulf himself with his followers, who laid themselvesdown to rest. 

No long time passed before Grendel came prowling from his home on themoors under the misty slopes. Full of his evil purpose, he burst withfury into the hall and strode forward raging, a hideous, fiery lightgleaming from his eyes. In the hall lay the warriors asleep, andGrendel laughed in his heart as he gazed at them, thinking to feastupon them all. Quickly he seized a sleeping warrior and devoured him;then, stepping forward, he reached out his hand towards Beowulf as helay at rest. 

But the hero was ready for him, and seized his arm in a deadly gripsuch as Grendel had never felt before. Terror arose in the monster'sheart, and his mind was bent on flight; but he could not get away. 

Then Beowulf stood upright and grappled with him firmly, and the tworocked to and fro in the struggle, knocking over benches and shakingthe hall with the violence of their fight. Suddenly a new and terriblecry arose, the cry of Grendel in fear and pain, for never once didBeowulf relax his hold upon him. Then many of Beowulf's earls drewtheir swords and rushed to aid their master; but no blade could piercehim and nothing but Beowulf's mighty strength could prevail. 

At last the monster's arm was torn off at the shoulder, and sick untodeath, he fled to the fens, there to end his joyless life. ThenBeowulf rejoiced at his night's work, wherein he had freed Heorotforever from the fiend's ravages. 

Now on the morrow the warriors flocked to the hall; and when theyheard what had taken place, they went out and followed Grendel'stracks to a mere upon the moors, into which he had plunged and givenup his life. Then, sure of his death, they returned rejoicing toHeorot, talking of Beowulf's glorious deed; and there they found theking and queen and a great company of people awaiting them. 

And now there was great rejoicing and happiness. Fair and graciouswere the thanks that Hrothgar gave to Beowulf, and great was the feastprepared in Heorot. Cloths embroidered with gold were hung along thewalls and the hall was decked in every possible way. 

When all were seated at the feast, Hrothgar bade the attendants bringforth his gifts to Beowulf as a reward of victory. He gave him anembroidered banner, a helmet and breastplate, and a valuable sword, all adorned with gold and richly ornamented. Also he gave orders tothe servants to bring into the court eight horses, on one of which wasa curiously adorned and very precious saddle, which the king was wontto use himself when he rode to practice the sword-game. These also hegave to Beowulf, thus like a true man requiting his valiant deeds withhorses and other precious gifts. He bestowed treasures also on each ofBeowulf's followers and gave orders that a price should be paid ingold for the man whom the wicked Grendel had slain. 

After this there arose within the hall the din of voices and thesound of song; the instruments also were brought out and Hrothgar'sminstrel sang a ballad for the delight of the warriors. Waltheow toocame forth, bearing in her train presents for Beowulf--a cup, twoarmlets, raiment and rings, and the largest and richest collar thatcould be found in all the world. 

Now when evening came Hrothgar departed to his rest, and the warriorscleared the hall and lay down to sleep once more, with their shieldsand armor beside them as was their custom. But Beowulf was not withthem, for another resting-place had been assigned to him that night, for all thought that there was now no longer any danger to be feared. 

But in this they were mistaken, as they soon learnt to their cost. Forno sooner were they all asleep than Grendel's mother, a monstrouswitch who dwelt at the bottom of a cold mere, came to Heorot to avengeher son and burst into the hall. The thanes started up in terror, hastily grasping their swords; but she seized upon Asher, the mostbeloved of Hrothgar's warriors, who still lay sleeping, and bore himoff with her to the fens, carrying also with her Grendel's arm, whichlay at one end of the hall. 

Then there arose an uproar and the sound of mourning in Heorot. Infierce and gloomy mood Hrothgar summoned Beowulf and told him theghastly tale, begging him, if he dared, to go forth to seek out themonster and destroy it. 

Full of courage, Beowulf answered with cheerful words, promising thatGrendel's mother should not escape him; and soon he was riding forthfully equipped on his quest, accompanied by Hrothgar and many a goodwarrior. They were able to follow the witch's tracks right through theforest glades and across the gloomy moor, till they came to a spotwhere some mountain trees bent over a hoar rock, beneath which lay adreary and troubled lake; and there beside the water's edge lay thehead of Asher, and they knew that the witch must be at the bottom ofthe water. 

Full of grief, the warriors sat down, while Beowulf arrayed himself inhis cunningly fashioned coat of mail and his richly ornamented helmet. Then he turned to Hrothgar and spoke a last word to him. 

"If the fight go against me, great chieftain, be thou a guardian to mythanes, my kinsmen and my trusty comrades; and send thou to Higelacthose treasures that thou gavest me, that he may know thy kindness tome. Now will I earn glory for myself, or death shall take me away. "

So saying, he plunged into the gloomy lake, at the bottom of which wasGrendel's mother. Very soon she perceived his approach, and rushingforth, grappled with him and dragged him down to her den, where manyhorrible sea-beasts joined in the fight against him. This den was sofashioned that the water could not enter it, and it was lit by thelight of a fire that shone brightly in the midst of it. 

And now Beowulf drew his sword and thrust at his terrible foe; but theweapon could not injure her, and he was forced to fling it away andtrust in the powerful grip of his arms as he had done with Grendel. Seizing the witch, he shook her till she sank down on the ground; butshe quickly rose again and requited him with a terrible hand-clutch, which caused Beowulf to stagger and then fall. Throwing herself uponhim, she seized a dagger to strike him; but he wrenched himself freeand once more stood upright. 

Then he suddenly perceived an ancient sword hanging upon the wall ofthe den, and seized it as a last resource. Fierce and savage, butwell-nigh hopeless, he struck the monster heavily upon the neck withit. Then, to his joy, the blade pierced right through her body and shesank down dying. 

[Illustration: BEOWULF FACE TO FACE WITH THE FIRE-BREATHING DRAGON]

At that moment the flames of the fire leapt up, throwing abrilliant light over the den; and there against the wall Beowulfbeheld the dead body of Grendel lying on a couch. With one swingingblow of the powerful sword he struck off his head as a trophy to carryto Hrothgar. 

But now a strange thing happened, for the blade of the sword began tomelt away even as ice melts, and soon nothing was left of it save thehilt. Carrying this and Grendel's head, Beowulf now left the den andswam upwards to the surface of the lake. 

There the thanes met him with great rejoicings, and some quicklyhelped him to undo his armor, while others prepared to carry the greathead of Grendel back to Heorot. It took four men to carry it, andghastly, though wonderful, was the sight of it. 

And now once more the warriors assembled in Heorot, and Beowulfrecounted to Hrothgar the full tale of his adventure and presented tohim the hilt of the wonderful sword. Again the king thanked him fromthe depth of his heart for his valiant deeds; and as before a fairfeast was prepared and the warriors made merry till night came andthey repaired to rest, certain this time of their safety. 

Now on the morrow Beowulf and his nobles made ready to depart to theirown land; and when they were fully equipped they went to bid farewellto Hrothgar. Then Beowulf spoke, saying:

"Now are we voyagers eager to return to our lord Higelac. We have beenright well and heartily entertained, O king, and if there is aughtfurther that I can ever do for thee, then I shall be ready for thyservice. If ever I hear that thy neighbors are again persecuting thee, I will bring a thousand thanes to thy aid; and I know that Higelacwill uphold me in this. "

"Dear are thy words to me, O Beowulf, " Hrothgar made answer, "andgreat is thy wisdom. If Fate should take away the life of Higelac, theGeats could have no better king than thou; and hereafter there shallnever more be feuds between the Danes and the Geats, for thou by thygreat deeds hast made a lasting bond of friendship between them. "

Then Hrothgar gave more gifts to Beowulf and bade him seek his belovedpeople and afterwards come back again to visit him, for so dearly hadhe grown to love him that he longed to see him again. 

So the two embraced and bade each other farewell with great affection, and then at last Beowulf went down to where his ship rode at anchorand sailed away with his followers to his own country, taking with himthe many gifts that Hrothgar had made to him. And coming to Higelac'scourt, he told him of his adventures, and having shown him thetreasure, gave it all up to him, so loyal and true was he. But Higelacin return gave Beowulf a goodly sword and seven thousand pieces ofgold and a manor-house, also a princely seat for him to dwell in. There Beowulf lived in peace, and not for many years was he called tofresh adventures. 

BEOWULF AND THE FIRE-DRAGON

After his return to the land of the Geats, Beowulf served Higelacfaithfully till the day of the king's death, which befell in anexpedition that he made to Friesland. Beowulf was with him on thatdisastrous journey, and only with difficulty did he escape with hislife. But when he returned as a poor solitary fugitive to his people, Hygd, Higelac's wife, offered him the kingdom and the king'streasures, for she feared that her young son Heardred was not strongenough to hold the throne of his fathers against invading foes. 

Beowulf, however, would not accept the kingdom, but rather chose touphold Heardred among the people, giving him friendly counsel andserving him faithfully and honorably. 

But before very long Heardred was killed in battle, and then at lastBeowulf consented to become king of the Geats. 

For fifty years he ruled well and wisely and his people prospered. Butat last trouble came in the ravages of a terrible dragon, and oncemore Beowulf was called forth to a terrific combat. 

For three hundred years this dragon had kept watch over a hoard oftreasure on a mountain by the seashore in the country of the Geats. The treasure had been hidden in a cave under the mountain by a band ofsea-robbers; and when the last of them was dead the dragon tookpossession of the cave and of the treasure and kept fierce watch overthem. 

But one day a poor man came to the spot while the dragon was fastasleep and carried off part of the treasure to his master. 

When the dragon awoke he soon discovered the man's footprints, and onexamining the cave he found that part of the gold and splendid jewelshad disappeared. In wrathful and savage mood he sought all round themountain for the robber, but could find no one. 

So when evening came he went forth eager for revenge, and throwing outflashes of fire in every direction, he began to set fire to all theland. Beowulf's own princely manor-house was burnt down and terribledestruction was wrought on every hand, till day broke and thefire-dragon returned to his den. 

Great was Beowulf's grief at this dire misfortune, and eager was hisdesire for vengeance. He scorned to seek the foe with a great hostbehind him, nor did he dread the combat in any way, for he called tomind his many feats of war, and especially his fight with Grendel. 

So he quickly had fashioned a mighty battle-shield, made entirely ofiron, for he knew that the wooden one that he was wont to use wouldbe burnt up by the flames of the fire-dragon. Then he chose out elevenof his earls, and together they set out for the mountain, led thitherby the man who had stolen the treasure. 

When they came to the mouth of the cave Beowulf bade farewell to hiscompanions, for he was resolved to fight single-handed against thefoe. 

"Many a fight have I fought in my youth, " he said, "and now once morewill I, the guardian of my people, seek the combat. I would not bearany sword or other weapon against the dragon if I thought that I couldgrapple with him as I did with the monster Grendel. But I fear that Ishall not be able to approach so close to this foe, for he will sendforth hot, raging fire and venomous breath. Yet am I resolute in mood, fearless and resolved not to yield one foot's-breadth to the monster. 

"Tarry ye here on the hill, my warriors, and watch which of us twowill survive the deadly combat, for this is no enterprise for you. Ionly can attempt it, because such great strength has been given to me. Therefore I will do battle alone and will either slay the dragon andwin the treasure for my people or fall in the fight, as destiny shallappoint. "

When he had spoken thus Beowulf strode forward to the fight, armedwith his iron shield, his sword and his dagger. A stone arch spannedthe mouth of the cave, and on one side a boiling stream, hot as thoughwith raging fires, rushed forth. Undaunted by it, Beowulf uttered ashout to summon the dragon to the fight. Immediately a burning breathfrom the monster came out of the rock, the earth rumbled and then thedragon rushed forth to meet his fate. 

Standing with his huge shield held well before him, Beowulf receivedthe attack and struck from beneath his shield at the monster's side. But his blade failed him and turned aside, and the blow but served toenrage the dragon, so that he darted forth such blasting rays ofdeadly fire that Beowulf was well nigh overwhelmed and the fight wenthard with him. 

Now his eleven chosen comrades could see the combat from where theystood; and one of them, Beowulf's kinsman Wiglaf, was moved to greatsorrow at the sight of his lord's distress. At last he could bear itno longer, but grasped his wooden shield and his sword and cried tothe other thanes:

"Remember how we promised our lord in the banquet-hall, when he gaveus our helmets and swords and battle-gear, that we would one day repayhim for his gifts. Now is the day come that our liege lord has need ofthe strength of good warriors. We must go help him, even though hethought to accomplish this mighty work alone, for we can never returnto our homes if we have not slain the enemy and saved our king's life. Rather than live when he is dead, I will perish with him in thisdeadly fire. "

Then he rushed through the noisome smoke to his lord's side, crying:

"Dear Beowulf, take courage. Remember thy boast that thy valor shallnever fail thee in thy lifetime, and defend thyself now with all thymight, and I will help thee. "

But the other warriors were afraid to follow him, so that Beowulf andWiglaf stood alone to face the dragon. 

As soon as the monster advanced upon them, Wiglaf's wooden shield wasburnt away by the flames, so that he was forced to take refuge behindBeowulf's iron shield; and this time when Beowulf struck with hissword, it was shivered to pieces. Then the dragon flung himself uponhim and caught him up in his arms, crushing him till he lay senselessand covered with wounds. 

But now Wiglaf showed his valor and strength, and smote the monsterwith such mighty blows that at last the fire coming forth from himbegan to abate somewhat. Then Beowulf came once more to his senses, and drawing his deadly knife, struck with it from beneath; and at lastthe force of the blows from the two noble kinsmen felled the fiercefire-dragon and he sank down dead beside them. 

But Beowulf's wounds were very great, and he knew that the joys oflife were ended for him and that death was very near. So while Wiglafwith wonderful tenderness unfastened his helmet for him and refreshedhim with water, he spoke, saying:

"Though I am sick with mortal wounds, there is yet some comfortremaining for me. For I have governed my people for fifty winters andkept them safe from invading foes; yet have not sought out quarrelsnor led my kinsmen to dire slaughter when there was no need. Thereforethe Ruler of all men will not blame me when my life departs from mybody. 

"And now go thou quickly, dear Wiglaf, to spy out the treasure withinthe cave, so that I may see what wealth I have won for my peoplebefore I die. "

So Wiglaf went into the cave and there he saw many precious jewels, old vessels, helmets, gold armlets and other treasures, which excelledin beauty and number any that mankind has ever known. Moreover, highabove the treasure flapped a marvelous gilded standard, from whichcame a ray of light which lit up all the cave. 

Then Wiglaf seized as much as he could carry of the precious spoils, and taking the standard also, hastened back to his lord, dreading lesthe should find him already dead. 

Beowulf was very near his life's end, but when Wiglaf had againrevived him with water, he had strength to speak once more. 

"Glad am I, " he said, "that I have been able before my death to gainso much for my people. But now I may no longer abide here. Bid thegallant warriors burn my body on the headland here which juts into thesea, and afterwards raise a huge mound on the same spot, that thesailors who drive their vessels over the misty floods may call itBeowulf's Mound. "

Then the dauntless prince undid the golden collar from his neck andgave it to Wiglaf with his helmet and coat of mail, saying:

"Thou art the last of all our race, for Fate has swept away all mykindred save thee to their doom, and now I also must join them, " andwith these words the aged king fell back dead. 

Now as Wiglaf sat by his lord, grieving sorely at his death, the otherten thanes who had shown themselves to be faithless and cowardlyapproached with shame to his side. Then Wiglaf turned to them, cryingbitterly:

"Truly our liege lord flung away utterly in vain the battle-gear thathe gave ye. Little could he boast of his comrades when the hour ofneed came. I myself was able to give him some succor in the fight, butye should have stood by him also to defend him. But now the giving oftreasure shall cease for ye and ye will be shamed and will lose yourland-right when the nobles learn of your inglorious deed. Death isbetter for every earl than ignominious life. "

After this Wiglaf summoned the other earls and told them of all thathad happened and of the mound that Beowulf wished them to build. Thenthey gathered together at the mouth of the cave and gazed with tearsupon their lifeless lord and looked with awe upon the huge dragon asit lay stiff in death beside its conqueror. Afterwards, led by Wiglaf, seven chosen earls entered the cave and brought forth all thetreasure, while others busied themselves in preparing the funeralpyre. 

When all was ready and the huge pile of wood had been hung withhelmets, war-shields and bright coats of mail, as befitted the funeralpyre of a noble warrior, the earls brought their beloved lord's bodyto the spot and laid it on the wood. Then they kindled the fire andstood by mourning and uttering sorrowful chants, while the smoke roseup and the fire roared and the body was consumed away. Afterwards theybuilt a mound on the hill, making it high and broad so that it couldbe seen from very far away. Ten days they spent in building it; andbecause they desired to pay the highest of honors to Beowulf, theyburied in it the whole of the treasure that the dragon had guarded, for no price was too heavy to pay as a token of their love for theirlord. So the treasure even now remains in the earth, as useless as itwas before. 

When at last the mound was completed, the noble warriors gatheredtogether and rode around it, lamenting their king and singing thepraise of his valor and mighty deeds. 

Thus mourned the people of the Geats for the fall of Beowulf, who ofall kings in the world was the mildest and kindest, the most graciousto his people, and the most eager to win their praise. 

THE GOOD KING ARTHUR

Probably every one knows the story of the great King Arthur who, thelegends say, ruled in Britain so many, many years ago and gatheredabout him in his famous Round Table, knights of splendid courage, tried and proven. So well loved was the story of Arthur in othercountries as well as in England that it was among the very first worksever printed in Europe, and it was still welcomed centuries later whenthe great English poet, Alfred Tennyson, told it in his _Idylls of theKing_. 

The boy Arthur was really the son of King Uther Pendragon, but fewpersons knew of his birth. Uther had given him into the care of theenchanter Merlin, who had carried him to the castle of Sir Hector, [A]an old friend of Uther's. Here the young prince lived as a child ofthe house. 

FOOTNOTE:

[A] This name is otherwise given as _Sir Ector_, and by Tennyson as_Sir Anton_. 

Now Merlin was a very wise man, and when King Uther died several yearslater the noblemen asked his advice in choosing a new king. 

"Gather together in St. Stephen's Church in London, on Christmas Day, "was all the enchanter answered. 

So the knights assembled, and when the mass was over and they passedout into the churchyard, there they beheld a large block of stone, upon which rested a heavy anvil. The blade of a jeweled sword was sunkdeeply into the anvil. 

Wondering, the noblemen drew near. One of them discovered aninscription upon the hilt which said that none but the man who coulddraw out the sword should ever rule in Uther's place. One by one theytried, but the sword was firmly imbedded. No one could draw it forth. 

Arthur was only a baby at this time, but some years later Sir Hectortraveled up to London, bringing with him his own son, Sir Kay, and hisfoster son, Arthur. Sir Kay had just reached manhood and was to takepart in his first tournament. Imagine his distress, therefore, when, on arriving at the tourney ground, he discovered that he had forgottento bring his sword. 

"I will fetch it for you, " cried the young Arthur, anxious to be ofservice. 

He found the apartment of Sir Kay closed and locked; but he wasdetermined to get a sword for his brother, and remembering the hugeanvil he had seen in the churchyard, he hurried toward it. Graspingthe hilt of the projecting sword, he drew it out easily. 

Happy over his good fortune, Arthur returned to the tourney ground andgave the new sword to his foster brother. Sir Hector, who stood near, recognized it. 

"Where did you get that sword?" he asked. 

"From the great anvil in the churchyard of St. Stephen's I drew it, "was the answer. 

But Sir Hector still doubted, and when the tournament was over, he andall the principal nobles of the realm rode back to the churchyard. 

Arthur replaced the sword in the anvil and stood aside while allpresent tried to draw it forth. None succeeded. Then Arthur againstepped up, grasped the hilt and pulled out the blade. 

"The king, the king!" the people cried; for they knew that at lastthey had found a worthy successor to the good King Uther. 

So Arthur was crowned king and entered upon that wise and kingly ruleof which the praises have so often been sung. 

Following are the stories of the coming and passing of Arthur as theyare related by Tennyson:

THE COMING OF ARTHUR

 Leodogran, the King of Cameliard, Had one fair daughter, and none other child; And she was fairest of all flesh on earth, Guinevere, and in her his one delight. 

 For many a petty king ere Arthur came Ruled in this isle, and ever waging war Each upon other, wasted all the land; And still from time to time the heathen host Swarm'd overseas, and harried what was left. And so there grew great tracts of wilderness, Wherein the beast was ever more and more, But man was less and less, till Arthur came. For first Aurelius lived and fought and died, And after him King Uther fought and died, But either fail'd to make the kingdom one. And after these King Arthur for a space, And thro' the puissance of his Table Round, Drew all their petty princedoms under him, Their king and head, and made a realm, and reign'd. 

 And thus the land of Cameliard was waste, Thick with wet woods, and many a beast therein, And none or few to scare or chase the beast; So that wild dog and wolf and boar and bear Came night and day, and rooted in the fields, And wallow'd in the gardens of the King. And ever and anon the wolf would steal The children and devour, but now and then, Her own brood lost or dead, lent her fierce teat To human sucklings; and the children housed In her foul den, there at their meat would growl, And mock their foster-mother on four feet, Till, straightened, they grew up to wolf-like men, Worse than the wolves. And King Leodogran Groan'd for the Roman legions here again, And Cæsar's eagle: then his brother king, Urien, assail'd him: last a heathen horde, Reddening the sun with smoke and earth with blood, And on the spike that split the mother's heart Spitting the child, brake on him, till, amazed, He knew not whither he should turn for aid. 

 But--for he heard of Arthur newly crown'd, Tho' not without an uproar made by those Who cried, "He is not Uther's son"--the King Sent to him, saying, "Arise, and help us thou! For here between the man and beast we die. "

 And Arthur yet had done no deed of arms, But heard the call, and came: and Guinevere Stood by the castle walls to watch him pass; But since he neither wore on helm or shield The golden symbol of his kinglihood, But rode a simple knight among his knights, And many of these in richer arms than he, She saw him not, or marked not, if she saw, One among many, tho' his face was bare. But Arthur, looking downward as he past, Felt the light of her eyes into his life Smite on the sudden, yet rode on, and pitch'd His tents beside the forest. Then he drave The heathen; after, slew the beast, and fell'd The forest, letting in the sun, and made Broad pathways for the hunter and the knight, And so return'd. 

 For while he lingered there, A doubt that ever smoulder'd in the hearts Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm Flash'd forth and into war: for most of these, Colleaguing with a score of petty kings, Made head against him, crying, "Who is he That he should rule us? who hath proven him King Uther's son? for lo! we look at him, And find nor face nor bearing, limbs nor voice, Are like to those of Uther whom we knew. This is the son of Gorloïs, not the King; This is the son of Anton, not the King. "

 And Arthur, passing thence to battle, felt Travail, and throes and agonies of the life, Desiring to be join'd with Guinevere; And thinking as he rode, "Her father said That there between the man and beast they die. Shall I not lift her from this land of beasts Up to my throne, and side by side with me? What happiness to reign a lonely king, Vext--O ye stars that shudder over me, O earth that soundest hollow under me, Vext with waste dreams? for saving I be join'd To her that is the fairest under heaven, I seem as nothing in the mighty world, And cannot will my will, nor work my work Wholly, nor make myself in mine own realm Victor and lord. But were I join'd with her, Then might we live together as one life, And reigning with one will in everything Have power on this dark land to lighten it, And power on this dead world to make it live. "

 Thereafter--as he speaks who tells the tale-- When Arthur reach'd a field-of-battle bright With pitch'd pavilions of his foe, the world Was all so clear about him, that he saw The smallest rock far on the faintest hill, And even in high day the morning star. So when the King had set his banner broad, At once from either side, with trumpet-blast, And shouts, and clarions shrilling unto blood, The long-lanced battle let their horses run. And now the barons and the kings prevail'd, And now the King, as here and there that war Went swaying; but the Powers who walk the world Made lightnings and great thunders over him, And dazed all eyes, till Arthur by main might And mightier of his hands with every blow, And leading all his knighthood threw the kings Carádos, Urien, Cradlemont of Wales, Claudias, and Clariance of Northumberland, The King Brandagoras of Latangor, With Anguisant of Erin, Morganore, And Lot of Orkney. Then, before a voice As dreadful as the shout of one who sees To one who sins, and deems himself alone And all the world asleep, they swerved and brake Flying, and Arthur call'd to stay the brands That hack'd among the flyers, "Ho! they yield!" So like a painted battle the war stood Silenced, the living quiet as the dead, And in the heart of Arthur joy was lord. He laugh'd upon his warrior whom he loved And honor'd most. "Thou dost not doubt me King, So well thine arm hath wrought for me today. " "Sir and my liege, " he cried, "the fire of God Descends upon thee in the battle-field: I know thee for my King!" Whereat the two, For each had warded either in the fight, Sware on the field of death a deathless love. And Arthur said, "Man's word is God in man: Let chance what will, I trust thee to the death. "

 Then quickly from the foughten field he sent Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere, His new-made knights, to King Leodogran, Saying, "If I in aught have served thee well, Give me thy daughter Guinevere to wife. "

 Whom when he heard, Leodogran in heart Debating--"How should I that am a king, However much he holp me at my need, Give my one daughter saving to a king, And a king's son?"--lifted his voice, and call'd A hoary man, his chamberlain, to whom He trusted all things, and of him required His counsel: "Knowest thou aught of Arthur's birth?"

 Then spake the hoary chamberlain and said, "Sir King, there be but two old men that know: And each is twice as old as I; and one Is Merlin, the wise man that ever served King Uther thro' his magic art; and one Is Merlin's master (so they call him) Bleys, Who taught him magic; but the scholar ran Before the master, and so far, that Bleys Laid magic by, and sat him down, and wrote All things and whatsoever Merlin did In one great annal-book, where after-years Will learn the secret of our Arthur's birth. "

 To whom the King Leodogran replied, "O friend, had I been holpen half as well By this King Arthur as by thee today, Then beast and man had had their share of me: But summon here before us yet once more Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere. "

 Then, when they came before him, the King said, "I have seen the cuckoo chased by lesser fowl, And reason in the chase: but wherefore now Do these your lords stir up the heat of war, Some calling Arthur born of Gorloïs, Others of Anton? Tell me, ye yourselves, Hold ye this Arthur for King Uther's son?"

 And Ulfius and Brastias answer'd, "Ay. " Then Bedivere, the first of all his knights, Knighted by Arthur at his crowning, spake-- For bold in heart and act and word was he, Whenever slander breathed against the King--

 "Sir, there be many rumors on this head: For there be those who hate him in their hearts, Call him base-born, and since his ways are sweet, And theirs are bestial, hold him less than man: And there be those who deem him more than man, And dream he dropt from heaven: but my belief In all this matter--so ye care to learn-- Sir, for ye know that in King Uther's time The prince and warrior Gorloïs, he that held Tintagil castle by the Cornish sea, Was wedded with a winsome wife, Ygerne: And daughters had she borne him--one whereof, Lot's wife, the Queen of Orkney, Bellicent, Hath ever like a loyal sister cleaved To Arthur--but a son she had not borne. And Uther cast upon her eyes of love: But she, a stainless wife to Gorloïs, So loathed the bright dishonor of his love, That Gorloïs and King Uther went to war: And overthrown was Gorloïs and slain. Then Uther in his wrath and heat besieged Ygerne within Tintagil, where her men, Seeing the mighty swarm about their walls, Left her and fled, and Uther enter'd in, And there was none to call to but himself. So, compass'd by the power of the King, Enforced she was to wed him in her tears, And with a shameful swiftness: afterward, Not many moons, King Uther died himself, Moaning and wailing for an heir to rule After him, lest the realm should go to wrack. And that same night, the night of the new year, By reason of the bitterness and grief That vext his mother, all before his time Was Arthur born, and all as soon as born Deliver'd at a secret postern-gate To Merlin, to be holden far apart Until his hour should come; because the lords Of that fierce day were as the lords of this, Wild beasts, and surely would have torn the child Piecemeal among them, had they known; for each But sought to rule for his own self and hand, And many hated Uther for the sake Of Gorloïs. Wherefore Merlin took the child, And gave him to Sir Anton, an old knight And ancient friend of Uther; and his wife Nursed the young prince, and rear'd him with her own; And no man knew. And ever since the lords Have foughten like wild beasts among themselves, So that the realm has gone to wrack: but now, This year, when Merlin (for his hour had come) Brought Arthur forth, and set him in the hall, Proclaiming, 'Here is Uther's heir, your king, ' A hundred voices cried, 'Away with him! No king of ours! A son of Gorloïs he, Or else the child of Anton and no king, Or else base-born. ' Yet Merlin thro' his craft, And while the people clamor'd for a king, Had Arthur crown'd; but after, the great lords Banded, and so brake out in open war. "

 Then while the King debated with himself If Arthur were the child of shamefulness, Or born the son of Gorloïs, after death, Or Uther's son, and born before his time, Or whether there were truth in anything Said by these three, there came to Cameliard, With Gawain and young Modred, her two sons, Lot's wife, the Queen of Orkney, Bellicent; Whom as he could, not as he would, the King Made feast for, saying, as they sat at meat:

 "A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas. Ye come from Arthur's court. Victor his men Report him! Yea, but ye--think ye this king-- So many those that hate him, and so strong, So few his knights, however brave they be-- Hath body enow to hold his foemen down?"

 "O King, " she cried, "and I will tell thee: few, Few, but all brave, all of one mind with him; For I was near him when the savage yells Of Uther's peerage died and Arthur sat Crown'd on the daïs, and his warriors cried, 'Be thou the king, and we will work thy will, Who love thee. ' Then the King in low deep tones, And simple words of great authority, Bound them by so strait vows to his own self, That when they rose, knighted from kneeling, some Were pale as at the passing of a ghost. Some flush'd, and others dazed, as one who wakes Half-blinded at the coming of a light. 

 "But when he spake and cheer'd his Table Round With large, divine and comfortable words, Beyond my tongue to tell thee--I beheld From eye to eye thro' all their Order flash A momentary likeness of the King: And ere it left their faces, thro' the cross And those around it and the Crucified, Down from the casement over Arthur, smote Flame-color, vert, and azure, in three rays, One falling upon each of three fair queens, Who stood in silence near his throne, the friends Of Arthur, gazing on him, tall, with bright Sweet faces, who will help him at his need. 

 "And there I saw mage Merlin, whose vast wit And hundred winters are but as the hands Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege. 

 "And near him stood the Lady of the Lake, Who knows a subtler magic than his own-- Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. She gave the King his huge cross-hilted sword, Whereby to drive the heathen out: a mist Of incense curl'd about her, and her face Well-nigh was hidden in the minster gloom; But there was heard among the holy hymns A voice as of the waters, for she dwells Down in a deep, calm, whatsoever storms May shake the world, and when the surface rolls, Hath power to walk the waters like our Lord. 

 "There likewise I beheld Excalibur Before him at his crowning borne, the sword That rose from out the bosom of the lake, And Arthur row'd across and took it--rich With jewels, elfin Urim, on the hilt, Bewildering heart and eye--the blade so bright That men are blinded by it--on one side, Graven in the oldest tongue of all this world, 'Take me, ' but turn the blade and ye shall see, And written in the speech ye speak yourself, 'Cast me away!' And sad was Arthur's face Taking it, but old Merlin counsel'd him, 'Take thou and strike! the time to cast away Is yet far-off. ' So this great brand the king Took, and by this will beat his foemen down. "

 Thereat Leodogran rejoiced, but thought To sift his doubtings to the last, and ask'd, Fixing full eyes of question on her face, "The swallow and the swift are near akin, But thou art closer to this noble prince, Being his own dear sister"; and she said, "Daughter of Gorloïs and Ygerne am I"; "And therefore Arthur's sister?" asked the King. She answer'd, "These be secret things, " and sign'd To those two sons to pass and let them be. And Gawain went, and breaking into song Sprang out, and follow'd by his flying hair Ran like a colt, and leapt at all he saw: But Modred laid his ear beside the doors, And there half heard; the same that afterward Struck for the throne, and striking found his doom. 

 And then the Queen made answer, "What know I? For dark my mother was in eyes and hair, And dark in hair and eyes am I; and dark Was Gorloïs, yea and dark was Uther too, Well-nigh to blackness; but this King is fair Beyond the race of Britons and of men. Moreover, always in my mind I hear A cry from out the dawning of my life, A mother weeping, and I hear her say, 'O that ye had some brother, pretty one, To guard thee on the rough ways of the world. '"

 "Ay, " said the King, "and hear ye such a cry? But when did Arthur chance upon thee first?"

 "O King!" she cried, "and I will tell thee true: He found me first when yet a little maid: Beaten I had been for a little fault Whereof I was not guilty; and out I ran And flung myself down on a bank of heath, And hated this fair world and all therein, And wept and wish'd that I were dead; and he-- I know not whether of himself he came, Or brought by Merlin, who, they say, can walk Unseen at pleasure--he was at my side, And spake sweet words, and comforted my heart, And dried my tears, being a child with me. And many a time he came, and evermore As I grew greater grew with me; and sad At times he seem'd, and sad with him was I, Stern too at times, and then I loved him not, But sweet again, and then I loved him well. And now of late I see him less and less, But those first days had golden hours for me, For then I surely thought he would be king. 

 "But let me tell thee now another tale: For Bleys, our Merlin's master, as they say, Died but of late, and sent his cry to me, To hear him speak before he left his life. Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay the mage; And when I enter'd told me that himself And Merlin ever served about the King, Uther, before he died; and on the night When Uther in Tintagil past away Moaning and wailing for an heir, the two Left the still King, and passing forth to breathe, Then from the castle gateway by the chasm Descending thro' the dismal night--a night In which the bounds of heaven and earth were lost-- Beheld, so high upon the dreary deeps It seem'd in heaven, a ship, the shape thereof A dragon wing'd, and all from stem to stern Bright with a shining people on the decks, And gone as soon as seen. And then the two Dropt to the cove, and watch'd the great sea fall, Wave after wave, each mightier than the last, Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame: And down the wave and in the flame was borne A naked babe, and rode to Merlin's feet, Who stoopt and caught the babe, and cried 'The King! Here is an heir for Uther!' And the fringe Of that great breaker, sweeping up the strand, Lash'd at the wizard as he spake the word, And all at once all round him rose in fire, So that the child and he were clothed in fire. And presently thereafter followed calm, Free sky and stars: 'And this same child, ' he said, 'Is he who reigns: nor could I part in peace Till this were told. ' And saying this the seer Went thro' the strait and dreadful pass of death, Not ever to be questioned any more Save on the further side; but when I met Merlin, and ask'd him if these things were truth-- The shining dragon and the naked child Descending in the glory of the seas-- He laugh'd as is his wont, and answer'd me In riddling triplets of old time, and said:

 "'Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow in the sky! A young man will be wiser by and by; An old man's wit may wander ere he die. 

 "'Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow on the lea! And truth is this to me, and that to thee; And truth or clothed or naked let it be. 

 "'Rain, sun, and rain! and the free blossom blows: Sun, rain, and sun! and where is he who knows? From the great deep to the great deep he goes. '

 "So Merlin riddling anger'd me; but thou Fear not to give this King thine only child, Guinevere: so great bards of him will sing Hereafter; and dark sayings from of old Ranging and ringing thro' the minds of men, And echo'd by old folk beside their fires For comfort after their wage-work is done, Speak of the King; and Merlin in our time Hath spoken also, not in jest, and sworn Tho' men may wound him that he will not die, But pass, again to come; and then or now Utterly smite the heathen under foot, Till these and all men hail him for their king. "

 She spake and King Leodogran rejoiced, But musing "Shall I answer yea or nay?" Doubted and drowsed, nodded and slept, and saw, Dreaming, a slope of land that ever grew, Field after field, up to a height, the peak Haze-hidden, and thereon a phantom king, Now looming, and now lost: and on the slope The sword rose, the hind fell, the herd was driven, Fire glimpsed; and all the land from roof and rick, In drifts of smoke before a rolling wind, Stream'd to the peak, and mingled with the haze And made it thicker; while the phantom king Sent out at times a voice; and here or there Stood one who pointed toward the voice, the rest Slew on and burnt, crying, "No king of ours, No son of Uther, and no king of ours"; Till with a wink his dream was changed, the haze Descended, and the solid earth became As nothing, but the king stood out in heaven Crown'd. And Leodogran awoke, and sent Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere, Back to the court of Arthur answering yea. 

 Then Arthur charged his warrior whom he loved And honored most, Sir Lancelot, to ride forth And bring the Queen;--and watch'd him from the gates; And Lancelot past away among the flowers, (For then was latter April) and return'd Among the flowers, in May, with Guinevere. To whom arrived, by Dubric the high saint, Chief of the church in Britain, and before The stateliest of her altar-shrines, the King That morn was married, while in stainless white, The fair beginners of a nobler time, And glorying in their vows and him, his knights Stood round him, and rejoicing in his joy. Far shone the fields of May thro' open door, The sacred altar blossom'd white with May, The Sun of May descended on their King, They gazed on all earth's beauty in their Queen, Roll'd incense, and there past along the hymns A voice as of the waters, while the two Sware at the shrine of Christ a deathless love: And Arthur said, "Behold, thy doom is mine. Let chance what will, I love thee to the death!" To whom the Queen replied with drooping eyes, "King and my lord, I love thee to the death!" And holy Dubric spread his hands and spake, "Reign ye, and live and love, and make the world Other, and may thy Queen be one with thee, And all this Order of thy Table Round Fulfil the boundless purpose of their King!"

 So Dubric said; but when they left the shrine Great Lords from Rome before the portal stood, In scornful stillness gazing as they past; Then while they paced a city all on fire With sun and cloth of gold, the trumpets blew, And Arthur's knighthood sang before the King:--

 "Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May; Blow trumpet, the long night hath roll'd away! Blow thro' the living world--'Let the King reign. '

 "Shall Rome or heathen rule in Arthur's realm? Flash brand and lance, fall battle-axe upon helm, Fall battle-axe, and flash brand! Let the King reign. 

 "Strike for the King and live! his knights have heard That God hath told the King a secret word. Fall battle-axe, and flash brand! Let the King reign. 

 "Blow trumpet! he will lift us from the dust. Blow trumpet! live the strength and die the lust! Clang battle-axe, and clash brand! Let the King reign. 

 "Strike for the King and die! and if thou diest, The King is King, and ever wills the highest. Clang battle-axe, and clash brand! Let the King reign. 

 "Blow, for our Sun is mighty in his May! Blow, for our Sun is mightier day by day! Clang battle-axe, and clash brand! Let the King reign. 

 "The King will follow Christ, and we the King, In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing. Fall battle-axe, and clash brand! Let the King reign. "

 So sang the knighthood, moving to their hall. There at the banquet those great Lords from Rome, The slowly-fading mistress of the world, Strode in, and claim'd their tribute as of yore. But Arthur spake, "Behold, for these have sworn To wage my wars, and worship me their King; The old order changeth, yielding place to new; And we that fight for our fair father Christ, Seeing that ye be grown too weak and old To drive the heathen from your Roman wall, No tribute will we pay": so those great lords Drew back in wrath, and Arthur strove with Rome. 

 And Arthur and his knighthood for a space Were all one will, and thro' that strength the King Drew in the petty princedoms under him, Fought, and in twelve great battles overcame The heathen hordes, and made a realm and reign'd. 

THE PASSING OF ARTHUR

 That story which the bold Sir Bedivere, First made and latest left of all the knights, Told, when the man was no more than a voice In the white winter of his age, to those With whom he dwelt, new faces, other minds. 

 For on their march to westward, Bedivere, Who slowly paced among the slumbering host, Heard in his tent the moanings of the King:

 "I found Him in the shining of the stars, I mark'd Him in the flowering of His fields, But in His ways with men I find Him not. I waged His wars, and now I pass and die. O me! for why is all around us here As if some lesser god had made the world, But had not force to shape it as he would, Till the High God behold it from beyond, And enter it, and make it beautiful? Or else as if the world were wholly fair, But that these eyes of men are dense and dim, And have not power to see it as it is: Perchance, because we see not to the close;-- For I, being simple, thought to work His will, And have but stricken with the sword in vain; And all whereon I lean'd in wife and friend Is traitor to my peace, and all my realm Reels back into the beast, and is no more. My God, thou hast forgotten me in my death: Nay--God my Christ--I pass but shall not die. "

 Then, ere that last weird battle in the west, There came on Arthur sleeping, Gawain kill'd In Lancelot's war, the ghost of Gawain blown Along a wandering wind, and past his ear Went shrilling, "Hollow, hollow all delight! Hail King! tomorrow thou shalt pass away. Farewell! there is an isle of rest for thee. And I am blown along a wandering wind, And hollow, hollow, hollow all delight. " And fainter onward, like wild birds that change Their season in the night and wail their way From cloud to cloud, down the long wind the dream Shrill'd; but in going mingled with dim cries Far in the moonlit haze among the hills, As of some lonely city sack'd by night, When all is lost, and wife and child with wail Pass to new lords! and Arthur woke and call'd, "Who spake? A dream. O light upon the wind, Thine, Gawain, was the voice--are these dim cries Thine? or doth all that haunts the waste and wild Mourn, knowing it will go along with me?"

 This heard the bold Sir Bedivere and spake: "O me, my King, let pass whatever will, Elves, and the harmless glamour of the field; But in their stead thy name and glory cling To all high places like a golden cloud For ever: but as yet thou shalt not pass. Light was Gawain in life, and light in death Is Gawain, for the ghost is as the man; And care not thou for dreams from him, but rise-- I hear the steps of Modred in the west, And with him many of thy people, and knights Once thine, whom thou hast loved, but grosser grown Than heathen, spitting at their vows and thee. Right well in heart they know thee for the King. Arise, go forth and conquer as of old. "

 Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: "Far other is this battle in the west Whereto we move, than when we strove in youth, And brake the petty kings, and fought with Rome, Or thrust the heathen from the Roman wall, And shook him thro' the north. Ill doom is mine To war against my people and my knights. The king who fights his people fights himself. And they my knights, who loved me once, the stroke That strikes them dead is as my death to me. Yet let us hence, and find or feel a way Thro' this blind haze, which ever since I saw One lying in the dust at Almesbury, Hath folded in the passes of the world. "

 Then rose the King and moved his host by night, And ever push'd Sir Modred, league by league, Back to the sunset bound of Lyonnesse-- A land of old upheaven from the abyss By fire, to sink into the abyss again; Where fragments of forgotten peoples dwelt, And the long mountains ended in a coast Of ever-shifting sand, and far away The phantom circle of a moaning sea. There the pursuer could pursue no more, And he that fled no further fly the King; And there, that day when the great light of heaven Burn'd at his lowest in the rolling year, On the waste sand by the waste sea they closed. Nor ever yet had Arthur fought a fight Like this last dim, weird battle of the west. A death-white mist slept over sand and sea: Whereof the chill, to him who breathed it, drew Down with his blood, till all his heart was cold With formless fear; and ev'n on Arthur fell Confusion, since he saw not whom he fought, For friend and foe were shadows in the mist, And friend slew friend not knowing whom he slew; And some had visions out of golden youth, And some beheld the faces of old ghosts Look in upon the battle; and in the mist Was many a noble deed, many a base, And chance and craft and strength in single fights, And ever and anon with host to host Shocks, and the splintering spear, the hard mail hewn, Shield-breakings, and the clash of brands, the crash Of battle-axes on shatter'd helms, and shrieks After the Christ, of those who falling down Look'd up for heaven, and only saw the mist: And shouts of heathen and the traitor knights, Oaths, insult, filth, and monstrous blasphemies, Sweat, writhing, anguish, laboring of the lungs In that close mist, and cryings for the light, Moans of the dying, and voices of the dead. 

 Last, as by some one death-bed after wail Of suffering, silence follows, or thro' death Or deathlike swoon, thus over all that shore, Save for some whisper of the seething seas, A dead hush fell; but when the dolorous day Grew drearier toward twilight falling, came A bitter wind, clear from the North, and blew The mist aside, and with that wind the tide Rose, and the pale King glanced across the field Of battle: but no man was moving there; Nor any cry of Christian heard thereon, Nor yet of heathen; only the wan wave Brake in among dead faces, to and fro Swaying the helpless hands, and up and down Tumbling the hollow helmets of the fallen, And shiver'd brands that once had fought with Rome, And rolling far along the gloomy shores The voice of days of old and days to be. 

 Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere, And whiter than the mist that all day long Had held the field of battle was the King: "Hearest thou this great voice that shakes the world And wastes the narrow realm whereon we move, And beats upon the faces of the dead, My dead, as tho' they had not died for me?-- O Bedivere, for on my heart hath fall'n Confusion, till I know not what I am, Nor whence I am, nor whether I be King. Behold, I seem but King among the dead. "

 Then spake the bold Sir Bedivere: "My King, King everywhere! and so the dead have kings, There also will I worship thee as King. Yet still thy life is whole, and still I live Who love thee; but who hates thee, he that brought The heathen back among us, yonder stands, Modred, unharm'd, the traitor of thine house. "

 Then spake the King: "My house had been my doom, But call not thou this traitor of my house Who hath but dwelt beneath one roof with me. My house are rather they who sware my vows, Yea, even while they brake them, own'd me King. And well for thee, saying in my dark hour, When all the purport of my throne hath fail'd, That quick or dead thou holdest me for King. King am I, whatsoever be their cry; And one last act of kinghood shalt thou see Yet, ere I pass. " And uttering this the King Made at the man: then Modred smote his liege Hard on that helm which many a heathen sword Had beaten thin; while Arthur at one blow, Striking the last stroke with Excalibur, Slew him, and but slain himself, he fell. 

 So all day long the noise of battle roll'd Among the mountains by the winter sea; Until King Arthur's Table, man by man, Had fall'n in Lyonnesse about their lord, King Arthur. Then, because his wound was deep, The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him, And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross, That stood on a dark strait of barren land: On one side lay the Ocean, and on one Lay a great water, and the moon was full. 

 Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: "The sequel of today unsolders all The goodliest fellowship of famous knights Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep They sleep--the men I loved. I think that we Shall never more, at any future time, Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls Of Camelot, as in the days that were. I perish by this people which I made, -- Tho' Merlin sware that I should come again To rule once more; but, let what will be, be, I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm That without help I cannot last till morn. Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, Which was my pride: for thou rememberest how In those old days, one summer noon, an arm Rose up from out the bosom of the lake, Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, Holding the sword--and how I row'd across And took it, and have worn it, like a king; And, wheresoever I am sung or told In after-time, this also shall be known: But now delay not: take Excalibur, And fling him far into the middle mere: Watch what thou seest, and lightly bring me word. "

 To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere: "It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus, Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm-- A little thing may harm a wounded man: Yet I thy hest will all perform at full, Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word. "

 So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he stept, And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men, Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake. 

 There drew he forth the brand Excalibur, And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt: For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work Of subtlest jewellery. He gazed so long That both his eyes were dazzled as he stood, This way and that dividing the swift mind, In act to throw: but at the last it seem'd Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd There in the many-knotted water-flags, That whistled stiff and dry about the marge. So strode he back slow to the wounded King. 

 Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: "Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave?" What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?

 And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, And the wild water lapping on the crag. "

 To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale: "Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name, Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight: For surer sign had follow'd, either hand, Or voice, or else a motion of the mere. This is a shameful thing for men to lie. Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again, As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word. "

 Then went Sir Bedivere the second time Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere, Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in thought; But when he saw the wonder of the hilt, How curiously and strangely chased, he smote His palms together, and he cried aloud:

 "And if indeed I cast the brand away, Surely a precious thing, one worthy note, Should thus be lost for ever from the earth, Which might have pleased the eyes of many men. What good should follow this, if this were done? What harm, undone? Deep harm to disobey, Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. Were it well to obey then, if a king demand An act unprofitable, against himself? The King is sick, and knows not what he does. What record, or what relic of my lord Should be to after-time, but empty breath And rumors of a doubt? But were this kept, Stored in some treasure-house of mighty kings, Some one might show it at a joust of arms, Saying, 'King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake. Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps Upon the hidden bases of the hills. ' So might some old man speak in the after-time To all the people, winning reverence. But now much honor and much fame were lost. "

 So spake he, clouded with his own conceit, And hid Excalibur the second time, And so strode back slow to the wounded King. 

 Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily: "What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?"

 And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds. "

 To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath: "Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue, Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me! Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widow'd of the power in his eye That bow'd the will. I see thee what thou art, For thou, the latest-left of all my knights, In whom should meet the offices of all, Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt; Either from lust of gold, or like a girl Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes. Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice, And the third time may prosper, get thee hence: But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, I will arise and slay thee with my hands. "

 Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran, And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged Among the bulrush beds, and clutch'd the sword, And strongly wheel'd and threw it. The great brand Made lightnings in the splendor of the moon, And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch, Shot like a streamer of the northern morn, Seen where the moving isles of winter shook By night, with noises of the Northern Sea. So flash'd and fell the brand Excalibur: But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him Three times, and drew him under in the mere. And lightly went the other to the King. 

 Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath: "Now see I by thine eyes that this is done. Speak out: what is it thou hast heard, or seen?"

 And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems Should blind my purpose, for I never saw, Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die, Not tho' I live three lives of mortal men, So great a miracle as yonder hilt. Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him; But when I look'd again, behold an arm, Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, That caught him by the hilt and brandish'd him Three times, and drew him under in the mere. "

 And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard: "My end draws nigh; 't is time that I were gone. Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight, And bear me to the margin; yet I fear My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die. "

 So saying, from the pavement he half rose, Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm, And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere Remorsefully regarded thro' his tears, And would have spoken, but he found not words; Then took with care, and kneeling on one knee, O'er both his shoulders drew the languid hands, And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs. 

 But, as he walk'd, King Arthur panted hard, Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the King, Muttering and murmuring at his ear, "Quick, quick! I fear it is too late, and I shall die. " But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge, Clothed with his breath, and looking, as he walk'd, Larger than human on the frozen hills. He heard the deep behind him, and a cry Before. His own thought drove him like a goad. Dry clash'd his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon. 

 Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge, Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern, Beneath them; and descending they were ware That all the decks were dense with stately forms, Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream--by these Three Queens with crowns of gold: and from them rose A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars, And, as it were one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes, Or hath come, since the making of the world. 

 Then murmur'd Arthur, "Place me in the barge. " So to the barge they came. There those three Queens Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept. But she, that rose the tallest of them all And fairest, laid his head upon her lap, And loosed the shatter'd casque, and chafed his hands, And call'd him by his name, complaining loud, And dropping bitter tears against a brow Striped with dark blood: for all his face was white And colorless, and like the wither'd moon Smote by the fresh beam of the springing east; And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd with drops Of onset; and the light and lustrous curls-- That made his forehead like a rising sun High from the daïs-throne--were parch'd with dust; Or, clotted into points and hanging loose, Mix'd with the knightly growth that fringed his lips. So like a shatter'd column lay the King; Not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest, From spur to plume a star of tournament, Shot thro' the lists at Camelot, and charged Before the eyes of ladies and of kings. 

 Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere: "Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead, When every morning brought a noble chance, And every chance brought out a noble knight. Such times have been not since the light that led The holy Elders with the gift of myrrh. But now the whole Round Table is dissolved Which was an image of the mighty world And I, the last, go forth companionless, And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds. "

 And slowly answer'd Arthur from the barge: "The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me? I have lived my life, and that which I have done May He within himself make pure! but thou, If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou seest--if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)-- To the island-valley of Avilion; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound. "

 So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. 

 But when that moan had past for evermore, The stillness of the dead world's winter dawn Amazed him, and he groan'd, "The King is gone. " And therewithal came on him the weird rhyme, "From the great deep to the great deep he goes. "

 Whereat he slowly turn'd and slowly clomb The last hard footstep of that iron crag; Thence mark'd the black hull moving yet, and cried, "He passes to be King among the dead, And after healing of his grievous wound He comes again; but--if he come no more-- O me, be yon dark Queens in yon black boat, Who shriek'd and wail'd, the three whereat we gazed On that high day, when, clothed with living light, They stood before his throne in silence, friends Of Arthur, who should help him at his need?"

 Then from the dawn it seem'd there came, but faint, As from beyond the limit of the world, Like the last echo born of a great cry, Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice Around a king returning from his wars. 

 Thereat once more he moved about, and clomb Ev'n to the highest he could climb, and saw, Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand, Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the King, Down that long water opening on the deep Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go From less to less and vanish into light. And the new sun rose bringing the new year. 

THE GREAT KNIGHT SIEGFRIED

Once upon a time there lived in the Netherlands, in Xante, a wonderfulcastle on the river Rhine, a mighty king and queen. Siegmund andSieglinde were their names, and far and wide were they known. Yettheir son, the glorious hero Siegfried, was still more widelycelebrated. Even as a boy he performed so many daring feats that hisbravery was talked of in all German lands. 

The two most remarkable of these feats were the slaying of a frightfulmonster known as the "Dragon of the Linden-tree" and the capture ofthe rich treasure of the Nibelungs. The hoard was an ancient one andhad this wonderful property--that no matter how much was taken from itthe quantity was never less. 

All this happened before Siegfried reached the age of manhood. When itwas time for the youth to be knighted, King Siegmund sent invitationsfar and wide throughout the country, and a great celebration tookplace. Siegfried was solemnly girded with a sword and permitted totake his place among the warriors of the kingdom. Then there was agreat tournament, a wonderful occasion for Siegfried, who came offvictor in every encounter, although many tried warriors matched theirskill against his. Altogether the festivities lasted seven whole days. 

After the guests had departed, Siegfried asked permission of hisparents to travel into Burgundy to seek as bride for himselfKriemhild, the maiden of whose great beauty and loveliness he hadheard. 

[Illustration: SIEGFRIED CAME OFF VICTOR IN EVERY ENCOUNTER]

Gunther, the king of Burgundy, recognizing the young hero, went outto meet him and politely inquired the cause of his visit. Imagine hisdismay when Siegfried proposed a single combat, in which the victormight claim the land and allegiance of the vanquished. Neither Gunthernor any of his knights would accept the challenge; but Gunther and hisbrother hastened forward with proffers of unbounded hospitality. 

Siegfried lingered a year in Gunther's palace, and though he nevercaught a glimpse of the fair maid Kriemhild, she often admired hisstrength and manly beauty from behind the palace windows. 

One day a herald arrived from King Ludeger of Saxony and King Ludegastof Denmark, announcing an invasion. Gunther was dismayed; but thebrave Siegfried came to the rescue, saying that if Gunther would givehim only one thousand brave men he would repel the enemy. This wasdone and the little army marched into Saxony and routed the twentythousand valiant soldiers of the enemy's force. All the men did bravework, but Siegfried was the bravest of them all. 

When the hero returned, a great celebration was held in his honor, andKriemhild, Ute and all the ladies of the court were invited to bepresent at the tournament. It was there that Siegfried first saw thefair maiden. Her beauty was more wonderful than he had ever been ableto imagine. What was his delight, then, to learn that he had beenappointed her escort. 

On the way to the tournament Kriemhild murmured her thanks for thegood work Siegfried had done for her, and Siegfried vowed that hewould always serve her brothers because of his great love for her. 

Soon after the tournament Gunther announced his intention of winningfor his wife, Brunhild, the princess of Issland, who had vowed tomarry no man but the one who could surpass her in jumping, throwing astone and casting a spear. Gunther proposed that Siegfried go withhim, promising him, in return for his services, the hand of Kriemhild. Such an offer was not to be despised, and Siegfried immediatelyconsented, advising Gunther to take only Hagen and Dankwart with him. 

Gunther and the three knights set out in a small vessel. Siegfriedbade his companions represent him as Gunther's vassal only; butBrunhild, seeing his giant figure and guessing its strength, imaginedthat he had come to woo her. She was dismayed, therefore, when sheheard that he had held the stirrup for Gunther to dismount. When heentered her hall, she advanced to meet him; but he drew aside, sayingthat honor was due to his master Gunther. 

Brunhild ordered preparations for the evening contest, and Gunther, Hagen and Dankwart trembled when they saw four men staggering underthe weight of Brunhild's shield and three more staggering under theweight of her spear. Siegfried, meantime, had donned his magic cloudcloak and bade Gunther rely upon his aid. 

The combat opened. Brunhild poised her spear and flung it with suchforce that both heroes staggered; but before she could cry out hervictory Siegfried had caught the spear and flung it back with suchviolence that the princess fell and was obliged to acknowledge defeat. 

Undaunted, she caught up a huge stone, flung it far into the distance, and then leaping, alighted beside it. No sooner had she done this thanSiegfried seized the stone, flung it still farther, and liftingGunther by his broad girdle bounded through the air with him andalighted beyond the stone. Then Brunhild knew that she had found hermaster. 

"Come hither all my kinsmen and followers, " she said, "and acknowledgemy superior. I am no longer your mistress. Gunther is your lord. "

The wedding was fitly celebrated and then Gunther and his bride wereescorted back to Issland by a thousand Nibelung warriors whomSiegfried had gathered for the purpose. A great banquet was given upontheir return, at which the impatient Siegfried ventured to remindGunther of his promise. Brunhild protested that Gunther should notgive his only sister to a menial, but Gunther gave his consent and themarriage took place immediately. The two bridal couples then sat sideby side. Kriemhild's face was very happy; Brunhild's was dark andfrowning. 

You see, Brunhild was not pleased with the husband she had gained andpreferred Siegfried. Alone with her husband the first night she boundhim with her girdle and suspended him from a corner of her apartment. There she let him hang till morning. Released, Gunther sought outSiegfried and told him of the disgraceful affair. 

The following evening Siegfried again donned his cloud cloak andentered the apartments of Gunther and Brunhild. As he entered he blewout the lights, caught Brunhild's hands and wrestled with her untilshe pleaded for mercy. 

"Great king, forbear, " she said. "I will henceforth be thy dutifulwife. I will do nothing to anger thee. Thou art my lord and master. "

Having accomplished his purpose, Siegfried left the room, but first hetook Brunhild's girdle and her ring. These he carried with him whenafter the festivities he and Kriemhild returned to Xante on the Rhine. 

Siegmund and Sieglinde abdicated in favor of their son, and for tenyears Siegfried and Kriemhild reigned happily. Then they were invitedto pay a visit to Gunther and Brunhild. They accepted, leaving theirlittle son Gunther in the care of the Nibelungs. 

Brunhild received Kriemhild graciously, but at heart she was jealousand wanted Kriemhild to acknowledge her as superior. One day they hada hot dispute, Kriemhild declaring that her husband was without peerin the world, and Brunhild retorting that since he was Gunther'svassal he must be his inferior. Kriemhild made an angry avowal thatshe would publicly assert her rank. 

Both queens parted in a rage and proceeded to attire themselves in themost gorgeous costumes they possessed. Accompanied by theirladies-in-waiting they met at the church door. Brunhild bade Kriemhildstand aside while she entered, and Kriemhild would not. A storm ofwords followed. Finally Kriemhild insulted the other queen bydeclaring that Brunhild was not a faithful wife. 

"You loved Siegfried better than Gunther, " she declared. "Here areyour girdle and ring which my husband gave to me. " So saying, shedisplayed the girdle and ring which Siegfried had unwisely given herwhen he confided to her the story of Gunther's wooing. 

Brunhild summoned Gunther to defend her, and he sent for Siegfried. The latter publicly swore that his wife had not told the truth andthat Brunhild had never loved him or he her. 

"This quarrel is disgraceful, " he said. "I will teach my wife bettermanners for the future. " Gunther promised to do likewise. 

The guests departed, but Brunhild still smarted from the insult andlonged for revenge. Hagen, finding her in tears, undertook to avengeher. He continually reminded Gunther of the insult his wife hadreceived. The king at first paid no attention to the insinuations, butat last he consented to an assault on Siegfried. 

He asked the great hero to help him in a war which he pretended hisold enemy Ludeger was about to bring upon him. Siegfried consented, and Kriemhild, because she loved her husband very deeply, was muchtroubled. In her distress she confided to Hagen that Siegfried wasinvulnerable except in one spot, between the shoulder blades, where alime leaf had rested and the dragon's blood had not touched him. 

"Never fear, " said Hagen, "I myself will help to protect him. You sewa tiny cross on Siegfried's doublet, just over the vulnerable spot, that I may be the better able to shield him. "

Kriemhild promised to obey his instructions, and Hagen departed, wellpleased, to carry the news to Gunther. 

At last the day came for Siegfried to leave his queen. He talked toher and comforted her and kissed her rosy lips. 

"Dear heart, " he said, "why all these tears? I shall not be gonelong. "

But she was thinking of what she had told Hagen, and wept and wept andwould not be comforted. 

When Siegfried joined Gunther's party he was surprised to learn thatthe rebellion had been quelled and that he was invited to join in ahunt instead of a fray. 

So he joined the hunting party. Now Siegfried was as great a hunter ashe was a warrior, and while the noonday meal was being prepared hescoured the forest, slew several wild boars, caught a bear alive andin a spirit of mischief turned him loose among the guests. Then, tiredand thirsty, he sat down, calling for a drink. 

Not a bit of wine was at hand; it had all been carried to another partof the forest. Hagen pointed out a spring near by and Siegfriedproposed a race, offering to run in full armor while the others ranwithout armor or weapons. In spite of the handicap, Siegfried reachedthe spring first. 

Always polite, Siegfried bade his host, Gunther, drink first, while hehimself disarmed. Siegfried then stooped over the spring to drink, andas he stooped, Hagen, gliding behind him, drove his spear into hisbody at the exact spot where Kriemhild had embroidered the fatal mark. 

Siegfried struggled to avenge himself, but found nothing but hisshield within reach. This he flung with such force at his murdererthat it knocked him down. Exhausted by the effort, the hero fell backupon the grass, cursing the treachery of Gunther and Hagen. 

Curses soon gave way to thoughts of Kriemhild, however, and overcominghis anger he recommended her to the care of her brother Gunther. Thenthe great hero died. 

The hunting party agreed to carry the body back to Worms and say thatthey had found it in the forest. But Hagen, bolder than the rest, ordered the bearers to deposit the corpse at Kriemhild's door, whereshe would see it when she went out for early mass the next morning. Ashe expected, Kriemhild discovered her dead lord and fell senselessupon him. Recovering, she cried out that he had been murdered: nofoeman in a fair fight could have killed the glorious knight. 

A great funeral took place and Siegfried's body was laid in state inthe cathedral at Worms. Thither many came to view it and to expresstheir sympathy for the widow Kriemhild. The latter, suspectingtreachery, refused to listen to Gunther until he promised that all ofthose present at the hunt should touch the body. 

"Blood will flow afresh at the murderer's touch, " he said. 

One by one the hunters advanced, and when Hagen touched the greatwarrior's form, lo, the blood flowed again from his wounds. At thisthe Nibelung warriors wanted to avenge the dead, but Kriemhild wouldnot permit them to interrupt the funeral. So the ceremonies wereconcluded and Siegfried's body was laid to rest. 

LOHENGRIN AND ELSA THE BEAUTIFUL

The young Duchess of Brabant, Elsa the Beautiful, had gone into thewoods hunting, and becoming separated from her attendants, sat down torest under a wide-branching linden-tree. 

She was sorely troubled, for many lords and princes were asking forher hand in marriage. More urgent than all the others was theinvincible hero, Count Telramund, her former guardian, who since thedeath of her father had ruled over the land with masterly hand. Nowthe duke, her father, on his death-bed had promised Telramund that hemight have Elsa for wife, should she be willing; and Telramund wascontinually reminding her of this. But Elsa blushed with shame at themere thought of such a union, for Telramund was a rough warrior, asmuch hated for his cruelty as he was feared for his strength. To makematters worse he was now at the court of the chosen King Henry ofSaxony, threatening her with war and even worse calamities. 

In the shade of the linden Elsa thought of all this, and pitied herown loneliness in that no brother or friend stood at her side to helpher. Then the sweet singing of birds seemed to comfort her, and shedropped into a gentle sleep. As she dreamed it seemed to her that ayoung knight stepped out of the depths of the forest. Holding up asmall silver bell, he spoke in friendly tones:

"If you should need my help, just ring this. "

Elsa tried to take the trinket, but she could neither rise nor reachthe outstretched hand. Then she awoke. 

Thinking over the apparition Elsa noted a falcon circling over herhead. It came nearer and finally settled on her shoulder. Around hisneck hung a bell exactly like that she had seen in the dream. Sheloosened it, and as she did so the bird rose and flew away. But shestill held the little bell in her hand, and in her soul was fresh hopeand peace. 

When she returned to the castle she found there a message, bidding herappear before the king in Cologne on the Rhine. Filled with confidencein the protection of higher powers, she did not hesitate to obey. Ingorgeous costume, with many followers, she set out. 

King Henry was a man who loved justice and exercised it, but hiskingdom was in constant danger from inroads by wild Huns, and for thisreason he wished to do whatever would win the favor of the powerfulCount Telramund. When, however, he saw Elsa in all her beauty andinnocence he hesitated in his purpose. 

The plaintiff brought forward three men who testified that the duchesshad entered into a secret union with one of her vassals. Only two ofthese men were shown to be perfidious; the testimony of the otherseemed valid, though this was not enough to condemn her. 

Then Telramund seized his sword, crying out that God Himself should bethe judge, and that a duel should decide the matter. So a duel wasarranged to take place three days later. 

Elsa cast her eyes around the circle of nobles, but saw no one grasphis sword in defense of her innocence. Fear of the mighty warriorTelramund filled them all. 

Remembering the little bell, she drew it forth from her pocket andrang it. The clear tones broke the stillness, grew louder and louderuntil they reached even the distant mountains. 

"My champion will appear in the contest, " she said; whereupon thecount let forth such a mocking laugh that the hearts of all werefilled with intense fear. 

The day of the contest was at hand. The king sat on his high throneand watched the majestic river that sent its mighty waters through thevalley. Princes and brave knights were gathered together. Before themstood Telramund, clad in armor, and at his side the accused Elsa, adorned with every grace that Nature can bestow. 

Three times the mighty hero challenged some one to come forward as achampion for the accused girl, but no one stirred. Then arose from theRhine the sound of sweet music; something silvery gleamed in thedistance, and as it came nearer it was plain that it was a swan withsilver feathers. With a silver chain he was pulling a small ship, inwhich lay sleeping a knight clad in bright armor. 

When the bark landed, the knight awoke, rose, and blew three times ona golden horn. This was the signal that he took up the challenge. Quickly he strode into the lists. 

"Your name and descent?" cried the herald. 

"My name is Lohengrin, " answered the stranger, "my origin royal: moreit is not necessary to tell. "

"Enough, " broke in the king, "nobility is written on your brow. "

Trumpets gave the signal for the fight to begin. Telramund's strokesfell thick as hail, but suddenly the stranger knight rose and with onefearful stroke split the count's helmet and cut his head. 

"God has decided, " cried the king. "His judgment is right; but you, noble knight, will help us in the campaign against the barbarianhordes and will be the leader of the detachment which the fair duchesswill send from Brabant. "

Gladly Lohengrin consented, and amid cries of delight from theassembled people he rode over to Elsa, who greeted him as herdeliverer. 

Lohengrin escorted Elsa back to Brabant, and on the way love awoke intheir hearts, and they knew that they were destined for each other. Inthe castle of Antwerp they were pledged, and a few weeks later themarriage took place. As the bridal couple were leaving the cathedral, Lohengrin said to Elsa:

"One thing I must ask of you, and that is that you never inquireconcerning my origin, for in the hour that you put that question mustI surely part from you. "

It was not long after the ceremony that the cry to arms came from KingHenry, and Elsa accompanied her husband and his troops to Cologne, where all the counts of the kingdom were assembled. Here there weremany inquiries concerning Lohengrin, and when none seemed to know ofhis origin, some jealously claimed that he was the son of a heathenmagician, and that he gained his victories by the power of black arts. 

Elsa, who had heard rumors of these charges, was deeply grieved; forshe knew the noble heart of her husband. He had even relieved herfears for his safety by the assurance that he was under the protectionof powers higher than human. 

But she could not banish the evil rumors from her mind, and forgettingthe warning her husband had given her on the day of her marriage, shedropped to her knees and asked him concerning his birth. 

"Dear wife, " he cried in great distress, "now will I tell to you andto the king and to all the assembled princes, what up to this time Ihave kept secret; but know that the time of our parting is at hand. "

Then the hero led his trembling wife before the king and his nobleswho were assembled on the banks of the Rhine. 

"The son of Parsifal am I, " he said, "the son of Parsifal, the keeperof the Holy Grail. Gladly would I have helped you, O King, in yourfight against the barbarians, but an unavoidable fate calls me away. You will, however, be victorious, and under your descendants willGermany become a powerful nation. "

When he finished speaking there was a deep silence, and then, as uponhis arrival, there rose the sound of music--not joyful this time, butsolemn, like a chant at the grave of the dead. It came nearer andagain the swan and the boat appeared. 

"Farewell, dear one, " Lohengrin cried, folding his wife in his arms. "Too dearly did I hold you and your pleasant land of earth; now ahigher duty calls me. "

Weeping, Elsa clung to him; but the swan song sounded louder, like awarning. He tore himself free and stepped into the boat. Was it theship of death and destruction, or only the ship that carried theblessed to the sacred place of the Grail? No one knew. 

Elsa, lonely and sad, did not live long after the separation. Her onlyhope was that she would be reunited to her dear husband; and sheparted willingly with her own life, as other children of earth havedone when they have lost all that they held most precious. 

FRITHIOF THE BOLD

Frithiof was a Norwegian hero, grandson of Viking, who was the largestand strongest man of his time. Viking had sailed the sea in a dragonship, meeting with many adventures, and Thorsten, Frithiof's father, had likewise sailed abroad, capturing many priceless treasures andmaking a great name for himself. 

Frithiof was entrusted to the care of Hilding, his foster father, andin his care, also, were Halfdan and Helgé, King Bélé's sons, and, someyears later, their little sister, Ingeborg. Frithiof and Ingeborgbecame firm friends, and as the lad increased in bravery and strength, the girl increased in beauty and loveliness of soul. Hilding, noticinghow each day they became fonder of each other, called Frithiof to himand bade him remember that he was only a humble subject and couldnever hope to wed Ingeborg, the king's only daughter, descended fromthe great god Odin. The warning, however, came too late, for Frithiofalready loved the fair maiden, and vowed that he would have her forhis bride at any cost. 

Soon after this the king died, leaving his kingdom to his two sons andgiving instructions that his funeral mound should be erected in sightof that of his dear friend Thorsten, so that their spirits might notbe separated even in death. Then Ingeborg went to live with herbrothers, the Kings of Sogn, while Frithiof retired to his own home atFramnas, closed in by the mountains and the sea. 

Frithiof was now one of the wealthiest and most envied of land-owners. His treasures were richer by far than those of any king. 

In the spring he held a great celebration, which the kings of Sognand their sister Ingeborg, among many other guests, attended. Frithiofand Ingeborg were much together, and Frithiof was very happy to learnthat Ingeborg returned his affection. 

Great was his grief when the time came for her to sail away. Not longhad she been gone, however, when he vowed to Björn, his chiefcompanion, that he would follow after her and ask for her hand. Hisship was prepared and soon he touched the shore near the temple of thegod Balder. 

His request was not granted and Helgé dismissed him contemptuously. Ina rage at the insult Frithiof lifted his sword; but remembering thathe stood on consecrated ground near Bélé's tomb, he spared the king, only cutting his heavy shield in two to show the strength of hisblade. 

Soon after his departure another suitor, the aged King Ring of Norwaysought the hand of Ingeborg in marriage, and being refused, collectedan army and prepared to make war on Helgé and Halfdan. 

Then the two brothers were glad to send a messenger after Frithiof, asking his aid. The hero, still angry, refused; but he hastened atonce to Ingeborg. He found her in tears at the shrine of Balder, andalthough it was considered a sin for a man and woman to exchange wordsin the sacred temple, he spoke to her, again making known his love. 

The kings, her brothers, were away at war, but Frithiof stayed nearIngeborg, and when they returned, promised to free them from theoppression of Sigurd Ring if in return they would promise him the handof their sister. But the kings had heard of how Frithiof had spoken toIngeborg in the temple, and although they feared Sigurd they would notgrant the request. Instead he was condemned in punishment to sail awayto the Orkney Islands to claim tribute from the king Angantyr. 

Frithiof departed in his ship Ellida, and Ingeborg stayed behind, weeping bitterly. And as soon as the vessel was out of sight thebrothers sent for two witches--Heid and Ham--bidding them stir up sucha tempest on the sea that even the god-given ship Ellida could notwithstand its fury. 

But no tempest could frighten the brave Frithiof. Singing a cheerysong he stood at the helm, caring nothing for the waves that ragedabout the ship. He comforted his crew, and then climbed the mast tokeep a sharp lookout for danger. 

From there he spied a huge whale, upon which the two witches wereseated, delighted at the tempest they had stirred up. Speaking to hisgood ship, which could both hear and obey, he bade it run down thewhale and the witches. 

This Ellida did. Whale and witches sank; the sea grew red with theirblood; the waves were calmed. Again the sun smiled over the hardysailors. But many of the crew were worn out by the battle with theelements and had to be carried ashore by Frithiof and Björn when theyreached the Orkney Islands. 

Now the watchman at Angantyr's castle had reported the ship and thegale, and Angantyr had declared that only Frithiof and Ellida couldweather such a storm. One of his vassals, Atlé, caught up his weaponsand hurried forth to challenge the great hero. 

Frithiof had no weapons, but with a turn of his wrist he threw hisopponent. 

"Go and get your weapons, " Atlé said, when he saw that Frithiof wouldhave killed him. 

Knowing that Atlé was a true soldier and would not run away, Frithiofleft him in search of his sword; but when he returned and found hisopponent calmly awaiting death, he was generous, and bade him rise andlive. 

Angantyr vowed that he owed no tribute to Helgé, and would pay himnone, but to Frithiof he gave a vast treasure, telling him that hemight dispose of it as he would. 

So Frithiof sailed back to the kings of Sogn, confident that he couldwin Ingeborg. What was his dismay, therefore, to learn that Helgé andHalfdan had already given their sister in marriage to Sigurd Ring. Ina rage he bade his men destroy all the vessels in the harbor, while hestrode toward the temple of Balder where Helgé and his wife were. Heflung Angantyr's purse of gold in Helgé's face, and seeing the ring hehad given to Ingeborg on the hand of Helgé's wife snatched it roughlyfrom her. In trying to get it back she dropped the image of the god, which she had just been anointing, into the fire. It was quicklyconsumed, while the rising flames set fire to the temple. 

Horror-stricken, Frithiof tried to stop the blaze, and when he couldnot, hurried away to his ship. 

So Frithiof became an exile, and a wanderer on the face of the earth. For many years he lived the life of a pirate or viking, exactingtribute from other ships or sacking them if they would not paytribute; for this occupation in the days of Frithiof was consideredwholly respectable. It was followed again and again by the brave menof the North. 

But Frithiof was often homesick, and longed to enter a harbor, andlead again a life of peace. 

At last he decided to visit the court of Sigurd Ring and find outwhether Ingeborg was really happy. Landing, he wrapped himself in anold cloak and approached the court. He found a seat on a bench nearthe door, as beggars usually did; but when one insulting courtiermocked him he lifted the offender in his mighty hand and swung himhigh over his head. 

At this Sigurd Ring invited the old man to remove his mantle and takea seat near him. With surprise Sigurd and his courtiers saw step fromthe tattered mantle a handsome warrior, richly clad; but only Ingeborgknew who he was. 

"Who are you who comes to us thus?" asked Sigurd Ring. 

"I am Thiolf, a thief, " was the answer, "and I have grown to manhoodin the Land of Sorrow. "

Sigurd invited him to remain, and he soon became the almost constantcompanion of the king and queen. 

One spring day Sigurd and Frithiof had ridden away on a huntingexpedition, and the old king being tired from the chase lay down onthe ground to rest, feigning sleep. The birds and beasts of the forestdrew near and whispered to Frithiof that he should slay the king andhave Ingeborg for his own wife. But Frithiof was too fine and loyal tolisten to such suggestions. 

Awaking, Sigurd Ring called Frithiof to him. 

"You are Frithiof the Bold, " he said, "and from the first I knew you. Be patient now a little longer and you shall have Ingeborg, for my endis near. "

Soon after this Sigurd died, commending his wife to the young hero'sloving care. And at his own request the funeral feast was closed bythe public betrothal of Ingeborg and Frithiof. 

The people, admiring his bravery, wanted to make Frithiof king, but hewould not listen to their pleadings. Instead he lifted the little sonof Sigurd upon his shield. 

"Behold your king, " he cried, "and until he is grown to manhood I willstand beside him. "

So Frithiof married his beloved Ingeborg, and later, so the storyruns, he returned to his own country and built again the temple ofBalder, more beautiful by far than any before. 

[Illustration: FRITHIOF AND INGEBORG IN THE TEMPLE OF BALDER]

WAYLAND THE SMITH

King Nidung had one daughter and three sons. The oldest son, Otvin, was away from court, guarding the outposts of the country; the othertwo sons were still children. 

One day the two boys came with their bows to the great smith Wayland, asking him to make arrows for them. 

"Not today, " the smith answered. "I have not time; and besides, eventhough you are the sons of the king, I may not work for you withoutthe wish and consent of your father. If he is willing, you may comeagain; but you must promise to do exactly as I tell you. "

"What is that?" one of the boys ventured. 

"You must, " said Wayland, "come on a day when snow has freshly fallen, and you must walk facing backward all the way. "

The children cared little whether they walked backward or forward, aslong as they got their arrows, and so they promised. To their delightnext morning they found that snow had fallen. Quickly they set out forthe smithy, walking backward all the way. 

"O Wayland, make us the arrows, " they cried. "The king, our father, has said that we might have them. "

But Wayland had no intention of making the arrows, for the king hadtreated him unjustly and cruelly, and he saw the opportunity forrevenge. With his mighty hammer he struck the two children on the headand killed them. Then he threw their bodies into a cave adjoining thesmithy. 

When the children did not return the castle messengers were sent outto find them. They inquired at the smithy. 

"The boys have gone, " said Wayland. "I made arrows for them, and nodoubt they have gone into the woods to shoot birds. "

Returning to the castle the messengers saw the footprints in the snow, and since they pointed toward home, decided that the children musthave gone back. But they were not there. Then Nidung sent his servantsfar and wide throughout the country, and when the boys were nowhere tobe found, he concluded that they must have been devoured by wildanimals. 

When all the searches were over, Wayland brought forth the bodies ofthe two children, stripped the bones of flesh, whitened them, and madethem into goblets and vessels for the king's table, mounting them withsilver and gold. The king was delighted with them, and had them placedupon his board whenever there were guests of honor present. 

A long time later, Badhild, the king's daughter, while playing withher companions in the garden one day, broke a costly ring that Nidunghad given her. She was greatly vexed and feared to tell her father. 

"Why not take it to Wayland to mend?" suggested one of her trustedmaidens. 

So Badhild gave the trinket to the girl and bade her take it toWayland. She brought it back with her. 

"Without the command of the king he will not mend it, " she said, "unless the king's daughter herself will come to him. "

Badhild set out immediately for the smithy. There Wayland substitutedfor her ring his own, which had the curious magic power of making itswearer fall in love with the smith. 

The smith slipped the jewel on her finger, gazed into her eyes andsaid, "This ring you shall keep as well as your own, if you will be mybride. "

The maiden could not refuse, and so the two were married, agreeing tokeep their union a secret. 

About this time Eigil, the brother of Wayland, came to the court ofNidung. He was a celebrated man and the most skilful master of the bowto be found anywhere in the world. The king welcomed him, and heremained a long time at the court. One day Nidung proposed that, sincehe was such a skilful bowman, he should try shooting an apple from thehead of his own son. Eigil agreed. 

"You may have only one trial, " the king said. 

So an apple was placed on the head of Eigil's three-year-old son, andEigil, taking his bow, aimed, and with the first arrow struck theapple in the center, so that it fell from the child's head. 

"Why did you have three arrows?" the king asked. 

"Sire, " replied Eigil, "I will not lie to you. If I had pierced my sonwith the first arrow, the other two would have pierced you. "

The king, strange to say, did not take offense at this speech, but onthe contrary showed Eigil still greater favor than he had in the past. 

The archer frequently visited his brother Wayland, but Badhild camebut seldom to her husband's house. One day the two came together atWayland's special request. When they were leaving Wayland embracedBadhild and said to her:

"You will be the mother of a boy--your child and mine. It may be thatI shall go away from here and never see his face; but you must tellhim that I have made for him worthy weapons and stowed them in safetyin the place where the water enters and the wind goes out (theforge). "

The next time Wayland saw Eigil he bade him bring to him all kinds offeathers, large and small. 

"I wish to make for myself a doublet of feathers, " he explained. 

Then Eigil shot many birds of prey and brought their feathers toWayland. From them he made a flying shirt, clad in which he lookedmore like an eagle than a man. 

Eigil admired the workmanship and Wayland asked him to try it. 

"How shall I rise, how fly, and how alight?" asked Eigil. 

"You must rise against the wind, and fly first low and then high, butyou must alight with the wind. "

Eigil did as he was told, and had a good deal of trouble in alighting. Finally he knocked his head with such force on the ground that he lostconsciousness. When he came to himself Wayland spoke:

"Tell me, brother Eigil, do you like the shirt?"

"If it were as easy to alight as it is to fly, " was the answer, "Ishould fly away and you would never see me again. "

"I will alter what is wrong, " said the smith, making a slight changein the shirt. Then with Eigil's help he put on the feathers, flappedhis wings and rose into the air. He lighted on a turret of the castleand called down to Eigil. 

"I did not tell you the truth when I said that you should alight_with_ the wind, for I knew that if you found out how easy it was tofly you would never give me the shirt back again. You can see foryourself that all birds rise against the wind and alight in the sameway. I am going home to my own country, but first I must have a fewwords with Nidung. And, remember, if he bids you shoot me, shoot underthe left wing, for there I have fastened a bladder filled with blood. "

With these words Wayland flew to the highest tower of the king'scastle and called to the king as he passed with his courtiers. 

[Illustration: WAYLAND THE SMITH, WEARING THE WINGS HE HAD FASHIONED]

"Are you a bird, Wayland?" asked the king. 

"Sometimes I am a bird and sometimes a man, " was the reply; "but now Iam going away from here and never again will you have me in yourpower. Listen while I speak. You promised once to give me yourdaughter and the half of your kingdom, but you made of me instead anoutcast--because I defended myself and killed the wretches who wouldhave taken my life. 

"You surprised me while I slept and stole my arms and my treasures;and not satisfied with that you laid a net for my feet and made of mea cripple. But I have had my revenge. Do you know where your sonsare?"

"My sons!" cried Nidung. "Oh, tell me what you know of them. "

"I will tell you, but first you must swear to me by the deck of theship and the edge of the shield, by the back of the horse and theblade of the sword that you will do no harm to my wife and child. "

Nidung swore and Wayland began his speech:

"Go to my smithy, and there in the cave you will find the remains ofyour sons. I killed them, and of their bones made vessels for yourtable. Your daughter Badhild is my wife. So have I repaid evil withevil, and our connection is ended. "

With these words he flew away, while Nidung in great anger cried:"Eigil, shoot at Wayland. "

"I cannot harm my own brother, " replied Eigil. 

"Shoot, " cried the king, "or I will kill you. "

Then Eigil laid an arrow in his bow and shot Wayland as he had beeninstructed, under his left arm, until the blood flowed and everyonethought that the great smith had received his death wound. 

But Wayland, unharmed, flew away to Zealand and made his home there inhis father's land. 

Nidung, meantime, was sad and unhappy, and it was not long before hedied and Otvin, his son, succeeded to the throne. 

Otvin was soon loved and honored throughout the kingdom because of hisgreat justice and kindness. His sister lived with him at court, andthere her son, Widge, was born. 

One day Wayland sent messengers to Otvin, asking for peace and pardon, and when these were granted he traveled again to Jutland and wasreceived with great honor. 

The mighty smith was very glad to see his wife again and very proud ofhis three-year-old son; but he would not yield to Otvin's request thathe remain in Jutland. Instead he returned to Zealand with Badhild andWidge, and there they lived happily for many years. 

Wayland was known throughout all the world for his knowledge andskill, and his son Widge was a powerful hero, whose praises were muchcelebrated in song. 

So ends the story of Wayland, the great smith of the northerncountries. 

TWARDOWSKI, THE POLISH FAUST

Toward the close of the eighteenth century there was pointed out tovisitors in the old town of Krakau the house of the magicianTwardowski, who quite properly was called the Faust of Poland, becauseof his dealings with the Evil One. 

In his youth Twardowski had followed the study of medicine, and withsuch industry, such eagerness and such a clear mind did he practicehis profession that it was not long before he was the most celebrateddoctor in all Poland. But Twardowski was not satisfied with this. Hecraved greater and still greater power. 

At last one day, as he was reading, he found in an old book of magicthat for which he had long been seeking--the formula for summoning thedevil. When night came a storm had risen, but caring not for that hehurried away to the lonely mountain Kremenki. There, in a rudelyconstructed hut, he began his incantations. 

Before long there was an earthquake; great rocks were loosened, theground opened at Twardowski's feet and flames leaped out; and in theflames appeared the Evil One himself, in the form of a man, clad in ared cloak with the well-known pointed red cap. 

"What do you wish?" the devil asked. 

"The power of your most secret wisdom, " was the answer. 

"And how is this to be done?"

"You shall make me the most celebrated of all the learned men of thecentury, and shall besides give me such happiness as no man has everenjoyed upon this earth before. "

"So be it, " said the devil. "But on condition that at the end ofseven years I gain possession of your soul. "

"You may take me, " answered Twardowski, "but only in Rome may you havepower over me. Thither, at the end of seven years, will I go. "

The devil hesitated over this clause, but thinking of the fun he couldhave in the holy city, finally agreed. Leaning against the wall ofstone he wrote the compact, which Twardowski, making a slight wound inhis arm, signed with his own blood. 

When Twardowski descended from the mountain and made his way, bookunder arm, through the valley, he heard the bells in all the towers ofthe city ringing out clearly and solemnly on the still night air. Helistened, wondering at the unaccustomed noise, then hurried into thetown, inquiring from every one he met what the occasion was. But noone seemed to have heard the sound. 

Then a deep feeling of sadness came over him as he realized themeaning of the bells. They were the funeral knell of his own soul. 

When morning came, however, doubts were forgotten, and Twardowski wasglad to have the devil at his command. The first thing that hedemanded was to have all the silver of Poland gathered together in oneplace and covered over with great mounds of sand. 

Similar requests followed, and it was not long before the devilrepented of his bargain. One day it would please Twardowski to flywithout wings through the air; on another, to the delight of thecrowd, to gallop backward on a cock; on another to float in a boatwithout a rudder or sail, accompanied by some maiden who for themoment had inflamed his heart. One day, by the use of his magicmirror, he set fire to the castle of an enemy a mile away. This lastfeat made him greatly feared by people far and wide. 

At last the seven years were up. The devil appeared to Twardowski andsaid:

"Twardowski, the time of our pact is over, and I command you tofulfill your promise and go to Rome. "

"What shall I do there?"

"Give me your immortal soul, " was the answer. 

"Do you think I am a fool?" asked Twardowski. 

"You gave me your promise to go to Rome after seven years. "

"That I have already done, " said Twardowski, "and I did not promise tostay in Rome. "

"Noble deceiver!" exclaimed the Evil One. 

"Stupid devil!" cried Twardowski. 

Then after a struggle the devil vanished and Twardowski returned home. 

For over a year he pored incessantly over his books of magic, until atlast he found a formula for warding off death. Then he called hisdisciple Famulus to him and explained that he was going to test theformula. 

"You have always obliged me without question, " said Twardowski, "and Iexpect you to now. Take this knife and thrust it into my heart. "

"God forbid!" cried Famulus. 

"Why are you frightened? I know what I am doing. Take the knife andkill me, as the parchment directs. "

"I cannot. "

"You must, " insisted Twardowski. 

"It is impossible!"

"No more exclamations. Do as I tell you. "

"Oh, oh, oh!" wailed Famulus. 

"Strike!" thundered Twardowski, "or I will kill you this instant. "

Then Famulus did as he was bid and forced the blade into his master'sheart. 

Twardowski uttered a low cry, fell, and was soon dead. 

Famulus dropped trembling into a chair and covered his face with hishands. Then he remembered that he must read the remainder of theparchment in order to find out what he must do to restore the body tolife. 

Then he set about the task, severed the limbs of the dead body, andworked and brewed and distilled until the elixir described in theparchment was prepared. 

With the elixir he rubbed the members of the master's body, put themtogether, and laid the corpse in a coffin. This he buried on thefollowing night, explaining to Twardowski's friends that such had beenthe master's wish. 

Now the parchment stated that the body must remain in the grave sevenyears, seven months, seven days and seven hours; so Famulus could donothing but wait. At last the time had expired, and on a snowy, coldDecember night he found his way to the grave. He dug out the coffin, brushed off the snow and earth, opened the casket and found--not thebody of Twardowski, but that of a child who lay sleeping in a bed offragrant violets. 

"The child is like Twardowski, " Famulus thought, and he gathered himup under his cloak and carried him home. The next morning the childwas the size of a twelve-year old; and after seven weeks he was afull-grown man. 

Twardowski, who now seemed quite himself, only younger, and stronger, thanked Famulus and resumed again his study of magic. He desired, above all things, to be freed forever from his compact with the devil. This, he read in one of the books, he might do if he would brave theterrors of the underworld. 

So Twardowski determined to enter the gates of hell. At his magicspeech the ground opened and he began the path of descent. Blue flameslighted the way. Deeper and deeper he went through dark and windingpassages. At last he reached the underworld itself, and many awfulsights did he behold. 

And the farther he went the more frightened did he become. He couldnot help feeling that the devil had plotted something against him. Finally he found himself in a small room, and cast a hasty glancearound, looking for a means of escape. 

Seeing a child in a cradle in one corner of the room he seized ithastily, threw his cloak around it, and was about to leave when thedoor opened and the Evil One entered. 

He made a respectful bow and said, "Will you be good enough to go withme now?"

"Why so?" asked Twardowski, obstinately. 

"Because of our agreement. "

"But, " said the magician, "only in Rome have you power over me. "

"Yes, " replied the devil, "and Rome is the name of this house. "

"You think to trick me by a pun; but you cannot. I carry this talismanof innocence, " and throwing aside his cloak, he disclosed the sleepingchild. 

Anger showed in the face of the devil; but he stepped nearer toTwardowski and said softly:

"What are you thinking of, Twardowski? Have you forgotten yourpromise? The nobleman's word is sacred to him. "

Pride awoke in the breast of the magician. 

"I must keep my word, " he said, laying the child back in the crib, andsurrendering himself. 

On the shoulders of the devil two wings appeared, like the wings of abat. He seized Twardowski and flew away with him, mounting higher andhigher into the night. The magician was so terrified and sufferedsuch anguish in the clutches of the Evil One that in a few moments hewas changed into an old man, but he did not lose consciousness. Atlast so high were they that cities appeared like flies and Krakau withits mighty turrets like two spiders. Deeply moved, Twardowski lookeddown upon the scene of all his struggles and all his joys. 

But higher and higher they went--higher than any eagle has everflown--and more lonely and more fearful did it seem to Twardowski. Only occasionally bright stars passed by them, or fiery meteors, leaving a long streak of light behind. 

At last they came to the moon, which stared at them with dead eyes. Then a song that Twardowski had read in his mother's hymn book rose tohis lips. And as he repeated mechanically the prayer his mother hadtaught him an angel suddenly appeared and said:

"Satan, let Twardowski go; and you, Twardowski, hang you there betweenheaven and earth, to atone for your sin until the Last Judgment. Thenwill you be reunited with your mother in heaven. The prayer which youremembered in your hour of need has saved you. "

And so, according to the story, Twardowski is suspended in the vaultof heaven to this very day. 

[Illustration: TWARDOWSKI IN THE ARMS OF THE EVIL ONE]

ILIA MUROMEC OF RUSSIA

When we think of Russia we think of a great dark country--a country oflong winters and abundant snow and ice. It was here, long ago, in thecity of Kiev, that the hero Ilia Muromec was born. 

There was at that time a great castle in the city, and this was wellprotected by Ilia Muromec and his twelve armed knights. For thirtylong years had they kept watch at their post and no stranger had everpassed by them. 

But one morning Dobrnja, the knight after Ilia Muromec most powerful, perceived on the ground the imprint of a horse's hoof. Then he said tothe knights:

"Now is the mighty Zidovin in the neighborhood of our castle. What isyour will?"

The knights with one accord agreed that Dobrnja should ride outagainst the stranger. So Dobrnja mounted his war-horse and gallopedforth to meet Zidovin, calling to him in a deep, gruff voice:

"Here, my insolent sir, you have come all the way to our castle andhave omitted to send greeting to our captain Ilia Muromec, or toinform him of your approach. "

When Zidovin heard these words he turned quickly and rode towardDobrnja with such force that springs and lakes appeared wherever thehoofs of his black horse touched the ground. And the trembling of theearth caused great waves to rise on the sea. 

Dobrnja was so frightened that he jerked his horse about and with theswiftness of a cyclone galloped back to the castle. When he entered, almost exhausted, he told in great excitement of his encounter. 

Immediately Ilia decided to go forth himself against the enemy, andall the entreaties of his knights could not restrain him. So he rodeout to a high point where he could see Zidovin, watch him as he threwhis hundred-weight club up into the clouds, caught it with one hand, and swung it around in the air as if it had been a feather. 

Then Ilia spurred his horse and rode toward Zidovin. A horrible fightensued. Swords clashed and deep fissures were made in the earth, butneither knight fell. It seemed as if both heroes had grown fast totheir saddles, so unshakeable were they. 

At last they jumped from their horses and fought hand to hand withlances. All day long and all night long they struggled, until Iliafinally fell wounded to the ground. Zidovin kneeled on his breast, drew out his sharp knife, and was about to cut off the head of hisenemy. 

Ilia meantime was thinking, "Surely the holy fathers did not lie to mewhen they said that I should not lose my life in battle. "

Then suddenly he felt his strength redoubled, and he hurled Zidovinfrom him with such force that his body touched the clouds before itfell again in the moist earth at his feet. Cutting off the warrior'shead, he mounted his horse and rode back to the castle. To his knightshe said:

"Thirty years have I ridden in the field and thirty years have Ifought with heroes and tested my strength; but such a mighty man asZidovin have I in all that time never met. "

[Illustration: ZIDOVIN THREW THE IRON CLUB INTO THE AIR AND CAUGHT ITWITH ONE HAND]

KRALEWITZ MARKO OF SERVIA

Kralewitz Marko was the son of a Servian king who lived many, manyyears ago. He was very fond of hunting, and one day he rode forth onhis horse Saria to the mountain Sargau. Being tired, he dismounted, tied his horse to a tree, sat down in its shade and fell asleep. 

And as he slept it happened that Arbanes Neda with his seven brothersrode by. They all dismounted, lifted Kralewitz, bound him to hishorse, and rode away with him to Jedrena, where they presented him tothe vizier. 

Highly pleased over the gift, the vizier took the king's son and threwhim into prison. Two long years Kralewitz lay there, longing forliberty and home. Then he learned that in a few days he was to beexecuted. 

Immediately he wrote a letter to his friend, Milos Obilis, asking forhelp. This important message he entrusted to his only companion, awhite falcon. Tying the letter under the bird's wing he set it free. 

The falcon easily found its way, alighted on Milos' window, and wasadmitted. Scarcely had Milos read the letter, when he and two of hisfriends were ready to set out for Jedrena. They reached there the daybefore the execution. 

In the morning the gate of the city was opened and Marko was led out. Milos and his companions accompanied the mournful procession to anopen field in which the execution was to take place. Two Arabs stoodup with gleaming swords prepared to cut off Marko's head. 

"Hold on, brothers, " cried Milos. "I will give you a sharper swordwith which to cut off the malicious head of the noble Piam. See, withthis sword did the good-for-nothing treacherously slay my father. Cursed be his hand!"

With these words he rushed to Marko's side; then with one swift strokehe cut off the head of one Arab, and with another the head of theother. 

With still another stroke he severed the chains that bound Marko, andMarko, seizing a sword, swung himself into his saddle, and with hisfriends began to attack the horde of Turks. Frightened, the Turks fledbefore them, and Marko and his companions returned to their owncountry. 

Marko waited for and soon found the opportunity of showing hisgratitude to his friend, for Milos and two of his brothers were throwninto prison in Varadin. Milos wrote with his own blood a letter toMarko, asking for help. 

Then the king's son sprang to his horse Saria and rode to Varadin. Outside of the city he dismounted, stuck his spear in the earth, tiedSaria and began drinking the black wine which he had brought with him. He poured it into huge beakers, half of which he drank himself, andhalf of which he gave to Saria. 

At the same time a beautiful maiden, the daughter-in-law of thegeneral, passed by. When she saw the king's son she was frightened andran and told her father-in-law. 

Then the general sent out his son Velimir with three hundred men totake Marko prisoner. The knights encircled Kralewitz Marko, but hecontinued drinking his wine and paid no attention to them. But Sarianoticed them, and drawing near her master began beating the groundwith her hoofs. 

At this Marko looked up and saw himself surrounded. He emptied hisbeaker, threw it to the ground, and sprang to his horse. 

[Illustration: THEY GAGGED MARKO AND BOUND HIM TO HIS HORSE]

Like a falcon among doves Marko charged against the enemy. He cut offthe heads of some and drove the rest before him into the Danube. Velimir tried to flee, but Marko threw him from his horse, tied hishands and feet and bound him to Saria. Then again he began to drinkhis wine. 

All this the maiden watched and reported to her father. He gatheredtogether three thousand knights and rode forth against the stranger. They surrounded Marko, but he was undismayed. Bravely he chargedagainst them, his sword in his right hand, his spear in his left, andthe reins held between his teeth. 

Every knight he touched with either sword or spear fell instantly tothe ground, and when Vuca, the general, wholly dismayed, tried toescape on his fiery Arabian horse, Marko followed him, threw him, bound him, and led him to the place where his son lay. Then he boundthe two together, tossed them on the saddle of the Arabian horse androde home. There he put them in prison. 

Hearing this, the wife of the general wrote a letter to Marko, beggingfor mercy for her husband and son. Marko promised to release them oncondition that she release Milos and his brothers. This she did, honoring them and making them rich presents. 

"Now, for the love of Heaven, " said she, "see that my husband and myson return to me. "

"Never fear, " answered Milos. "Give me the general's black horse;adorn him as the general adorned him; give me a golden chariot withtwelve horses, such as the general rides in when he journeys to theemperor in Vienna; and give me the robe that the general wears onstate occasions. "

The wife provided all that he asked, and gave the prisoners forthemselves a thousand ducats. Then they rode away. 

Marko welcomed them, released the general and his son and providedthem with a strong body-guard back to Varadin. Then Milos and hisbrothers divided the ducats among them, kissed the hand of the king'sson, and rode away into their own country. 

THE DECISION OF LIBUSCHA

There dwelt once in the neighborhood of Grünberg Castle in Bohemia twobrothers--Staglow and Chrudis, of the distinguished family ofKlemowita--and these two had fallen into a fierce dispute over theinheritance of their father's lands. The older son Chrudis thoughtthat he should inherit all of the estate--and that is the custom insome countries, you know--while the younger son, Staglow, declaredthat the property should be equally divided. 

Now it happened that a sister of the princess Libuscha Vyched lived atthe court. She entreated the princess to settle the quarrel accordingto law. 

The princess yielded to her wish, and decided that the brothers shouldeither inherit their father's estate jointly or divide it into equalshares. 

All the lords of the country assembled to hear the rendering of thedecision--brave knights from far and near. Chrudis and Staglow, ofcourse, were present, very curious to hear what their princess woulddecide. Pungel of Hadio, proclaimed far and wide as the bravest of allthe knights of Bohemia, was also among the company. 

The princess herself rendered the decision, standing in white robesbefore her people. The two brothers stood near, and scarcely had thelast word been uttered when the knight Chrudis, who, as first-born, claimed the estate for himself, sprang excitedly to his feet, mockingand insulting the princess. "Poor people, " he said, addressing theassembly, "I am sorry for you who have to be ruled over by a girl. "

[Illustration: LIBUSCHA INSULTED BY CHRUDIS]

Deeply grieved, the maiden-princess Libuscha rose, explaining thatshe would no longer rule alone. She commanded the people to choose hera husband. 

"No matter whom you choose, " she declared, "I will abide by yourdecision. "

Thereupon the assembled subjects cried out that they would have Pungelof Hadio as prince; and Libuscha, stepping toward him, extended herhand to him in token of her agreement. 

Thus did Pungel become the liege lord of the Bohemian nobles. 

No one knows how long ago all this happened, for the manuscript thattells the story was very old when it was discovered in the year 1817. It had lain for many, many years among other old documents in thegreat chests that lined the walls of the courtroom in the ancientCastle Grünberg in Bohemia. The manuscript is now in a great museum inPrague, and perhaps, some day, when you go there, you will see it foryourself. 

COUNT ROLAND OF FRANCE

The trumpets sounded and the army went on its way to France. The nextday King Charles called his lords together. "You see, " said he, "thesenarrow passes. Whom shall I place to command the rear-guard? Chooseyou a man yourselves. "

Said Ganelon, "Whom should we choose but my son-in-law, Count Roland?You have no man in your host so valiant. Of a truth he will be thesalvation of France. "

The King said when he heard these words, "What ails you, Ganelon? Youlook like to one possessed. "

When Count Roland knew what was proposed concerning him, he spake outas a true knight should speak: "I am right thankful to you, father-in-law, that you have caused me to be put in this place. Of atruth the King of France shall lose nothing by my means, neithercharger, nor mule, nor pack-horse, nor beast of burden. "

Then Roland turned to the King and said, "Give me twenty thousandonly, so they be men of valor, and I will keep the passes in allsafety. So long as I shall live, you need fear no man. "

Then Roland mounted his horse. With him were Oliver, his comrade, andOtho and Berenger, and Gerard of Roussillon, an aged warrior, andothers, men of renown. And Turpin the Archbishop cried, "By my head, Iwill go also. " So they chose twenty thousand warriors with whom tokeep the passes. 

Meanwhile King Charles had entered the valley of Roncesvalles. Highwere the mountains on either side of the way, and the valleys weregloomy and dark. But when the army had passed through the valley, they saw the fair land of Gascony, and as they saw it they thought oftheir homes and their wives and daughters. There was not one of thembut wept for very tenderness of heart. But of all that company therewas none sadder than the King himself, when he thought how he had lefthis nephew Count Roland behind him in the passes of Spain. 

And now the Saracen King Marsilas began to gather his army. He laid astrict command on all his nobles and chiefs that they should bringwith them to Saragossa as many men as they could gather together. Andwhen they were come to the city, it being the third day from theissuing of the King's command, they saluted the great image ofMahomet, the false prophet, that stood on the topmost tower. This donethey went forth from the city gates. They made all haste, marchingacross the mountains and valleys of Spain till they came in sight ofthe standard of France, where Roland and Oliver and the Twelve Peerswere ranged in battle array. 

The Saracen champions donned their coats of mail, of double substancemost of them, and they set upon their heads helmets of Saragossa ofwell-tempered metal, and they girded themselves with swords of Vienna. Fair were their shields to view; their lances were from Valentia;their standards were of white, blue, and red. Their mules they leftwith the servants, and, mounting their chargers, so moved forwards. Fair was the day and bright the sun, as their armor flashed in thelight, and the drums were beaten so loudly that the Frenchmen heardthe sound. 

Said Oliver to Roland, "Comrade, methinks we shall soon do battle withthe Saracens. "

"God grant it, " answered Roland. "'Tis our duty to hold the place forthe King, and we will do it, come what may. As for me, I will not setan ill example. "

Oliver climbed to the top of a hill, and saw from thence the wholearmy of the heathen. He cried to Roland his companion, "I see theflashing of arms. We men of France shall have no small troubletherefrom. This is the doing of Ganelon the traitor. "

"Be silent, " answered Roland, "till you shall know; say no more abouthim. "

Oliver looked again from the hilltop, and saw how the Saracens cameon. So many there were that he could not count their battalions. Hedescended to the plain with all speed, and came to the array of theFrench, and said, "I have seen more heathen than man ever yet sawtogether upon the earth. There are a hundred thousand at the least. Weshall have such a battle with them as has never before been fought. Mybrethren of France, quit you like men, be strong; stand firm that yoube not conquered. " And all the army shouted with one voice, "Cursed behe that shall fly. "

Then Oliver turned to Roland, and said, "Sound your horn; my friend, Charles will hear it, and will return. "

"I were a fool, " answered Roland, "so to do. Not so; but I will dealthese heathen some mighty blows with Durendal, my sword. They havebeen ill-advised to venture into these passes. I swear that they arecondemned to death, one and all. "

After a while, Oliver said again, "Friend Roland, sound your horn ofivory. Then will the King return, and bring his army with him, to ourhelp. " But Roland answered again, "I will not do dishonor to mykinsmen, or to the fair land of France. I have my sword; that shallsuffice for me. These evil-minded heathen are gathered togetheragainst us to their own hurt. Surely not one of them shall escape fromdeath. "

"As for me, " said Oliver, "I see not where the dishonor would be. Isaw the valleys and the mountains covered with the great multitude ofSaracens. Theirs is, in truth, a mighty array, and we are but few. "

"So much the better, " answered Roland. "It makes my courage grow. 'Tisbetter to die than to be disgraced. And remember, the harder our blowsthe more the King will love us. "

Roland was brave, but Oliver was wise. "Consider, " he said, "comrade. These enemies are over-near to us, and the King over-far. Were hehere, we should not be in danger; but there are some here today whowill never fight in another battle. "

Then Turpin the Archbishop struck spurs into his horse, and rode to ahilltop. Then he turned to the men of France, and spake: "Lords ofFrance, King Charles has left us here; our King he is, and it is ourduty to die for him. Today our Christian Faith is in peril: do yefight for it. Fight ye must; be sure of that, for there under youreyes are the Saracens. Confess, therefore, your sins, and pray to Godthat He have mercy upon you. And now for your soul's health I willgive you all absolution. If you die, you will be God's martyrs, everyone of you, and your places are ready for you in His Paradise. "

Thereupon the men of France dismounted, and knelt upon the ground, andthe Archbishop blessed them in God's name. "But look, " said he, "I setyou a penance--smite these pagans. " Then the men of France rose totheir feet. They had received absolution, and were set free from alltheir sins, and the Archbishop had blessed them in the name of God. After this they mounted their swift steeds, and clad themselves inarmor, and made themselves ready for the battle. 

Said Roland to Oliver, "Brother, you know that it is Ganelon who hasbetrayed us. Good store he has had of gold and silver as a reward;'tis the King Marsilas that has made merchandise of us, but verily itis with our swords that he shall be paid. " So saying, he rode on tothe pass, mounted on his good steed Veillantif. His spear he held withthe point to the sky; a white flag it bore with fringes of gold whichfell down to his hands. A stalwart man was he, and his countenance wasfair and smiling. Behind him followed Oliver, his friend; and the menof France pointed to him, saying, "See our champion!" Pride was in hiseye when he looked towards the Saracens; but to the men of France hisregard was all sweetness and humility. Full courteously he spake tothem:

"Ride not so fast, my lords, " he said; "verily these heathen are comehither, seeking martyrdom. 'Tis a fair spoil that we shall gather fromthem today. Never has King of France gained any so rich. " And as hespake, the two hosts came together. 

Said Oliver, "You did not deem it fit, my lord, to sound your horn. Therefore you lack the help which the King would have sent. Not histhe blame, for he knows nothing of what has chanced. But do you, lordsof France, charge as fiercely as you may, and yield not one whit tothe enemy. Think upon these two things only--how to deal a straightblow and to take it. And let us not forget King Charles' cry ofbattle. "

Then all the men of France with one voice cried out, "Mountjoy!" Hethat heard them so cry had never doubted that they were men of valor. Proud was their array as they rode on to battle, spurring their horsesthat they might speed the more. And the Saracens, on their part, cameforward with a good heart. Thus did the Frenchmen and the heathen meetin the shock of battle. 

Full many of the heathen warriors fell that day. Not one of the TwelvePeers of France but slew his man. But of all none bore himself sovaliantly as Roland. Many a blow did he deal to the enemy with hismighty spear, and when the spear was shivered in his hand, fifteenwarriors having fallen before it, then he seized his good swordDurendal, and smote man after man to the ground. Red was he with theblood of his enemies, red was his hauberk, red his arms, red hisshoulders, aye, and the neck of his horse. Not one of the Twelvelingered in the rear, or was slow to strike, but Count Roland was thebravest of the brave. "Well done, sons of France!" cried Turpin theArchbishop, when he saw them lay on in such sort. 

Next to Roland for valor and hardihood came Oliver, his companion. Many a heathen warrior did he slay, till at last his spear wasshivered in his hand. "What are you doing, comrade?" cried Roland, when he was aware of the mishap. "A man wants no staff in such abattle as this. 'Tis the steel and nothing else that he must have. Where is your sword Hautclere, with its hilt of gold and its pommel ofcrystal?"

"On my word, " said Oliver, "I have not had time to draw it; I was sobusy with striking. " But as he spake he drew the good sword from itsscabbard, and smote a heathen knight, Justin of the Iron Valley. Amighty blow it was, cleaving the man in twain down to his saddle--aye, and the saddle itself with its adorning of gold and jewels, and thevery backbone also of the steed whereon he rode, so that horse and manfell dead together on the plains. "Well done!" cried Roland; "you area true brother of mine. 'Tis such strokes as this that make the Kinglove us. "

Nevertheless, for all the valor of Roland and his fellows the battlewent hard with the men of France. Many lances were shivered, manyflags torn, and many gallant youths cut off in their prime. Never morewould they see mother and wife. It was an ill deed that the traitorGanelon wrought when he sold his fellows to King Marsilas!

And now there befell a new trouble. King Almaris, with a great hostof heathen, coming by an unknown way, fell upon the rear of the hostwhere there was another pass. Fiercely did the noble Walter that keptthe same charge the newcomers, but they overpowered him and hisfollowers. He was wounded with four several lances, and four times didhe swoon, so that at the last he was constrained to leave the field ofbattle, that he might call the Count Roland to his aid. But small wasthe aid which Roland could give him or any one. Valiantly he held upthe battle, and with him Oliver, and Turpin the Archbishop, and othersalso; but the lines of the men of France were broken, and their armorthrust through and their spears shivered, and their flags trodden inthe dust. For all this they made such slaughter among the heathen thatKing Almaris, who led the armies of the enemy, scarcely could win backhis way to his own people, wounded in four places and sorely spent. Aright good warrior was he; had he but been a Christian, but few hadmatched him in battle. 

Count Roland saw how grievously his people had suffered and spake thusto Oliver his comrade: "Dear comrade, you see how many brave men liedead upon the ground. Well may we mourn for fair France, widowed asshe is of so many valiant champions. But why is our King not here? OOliver, my brother, what shall we do to send him tidings of ourstate?" "I know not, " answered Oliver. "Only this I know--that deathis to be chosen rather than dishonor. "

After a while Roland said again, "I shall blow my horn; King Charleswill hear it, where he has encamped beyond the passes, and he and hishost will come back. "

"That would be ill done, " answered Oliver, "and shame both you andyour race. When I gave you this counsel you would have none of it. NowI like it not. 'Tis not for a brave man to sound the horn and cry forhelp now that we are in such case. "

"The battle is too hard for us, " said Roland again, "and I shallsound my horn, that the King may hear. "

And Oliver answered again, "When I gave you this counsel, you scornedit. Now I myself like it not. 'Tis true that had the King been here, we had not suffered this loss. But the blame is not his. 'Tis yourfolly, Count Roland, that has done to death all these men of France. But for that we should have conquered in this battle, and have takenand slain King Marsilas. But now we can do nothing for France and theKing. We can but die. Woe is me for our country, aye, and for ourfriendship, which will come to a grievous end this day. "

The Archbishop perceived that the two friends were at variance, andspurred his horse till he came where they stood. "Listen to me, " hesaid, "Sir Roland and Sir Oliver. I implore you not to fall out witheach other in this fashion. We, sons of France, that are in thisplace, are of a truth condemned to death, neither will the sounding ofyour horn save us, for the King is far away, and cannot come in time. Nevertheless, I hold it to be well that you should sound it. When theKing and his army shall come, they will find us dead--that I know fullwell. But they will avenge us, so that our enemies shall not go awayrejoicing. And they will also recover our bodies, and will carry themaway for burial in holy places, so that the dogs and wolves shall notdevour them. "

"You say well, " cried Roland, and he put his horn to his lips, andgave so mighty a blast upon it, that the sound was heard thirtyleagues away. King Charles and his men heard it, and the King said, "Our countrymen are fighting with the enemy. " But Ganelon answered, "Sire, had any but you so spoken, I had said that he spoke falsely. "

Then Roland blew his horn a second time; with great pain and anguishof body he blew it, and the red blood gushed from his lips; but thesound was heard yet farther than at first. Again the King heard it, and all his nobles, and all his men. "That, " said he, "is Roland'shorn; he never had sounded it were he not in battle with the enemy. "But Ganelon answered again: "Believe me, Sire, there is no battle. Youare an old man, and you have the fancies of a child. You know what amighty man of valor is this Roland. Think you that any one would dareto attack him? No one, of a truth. Ride on, Sire; why halt you here?The fair land of France is yet far away. "

Roland blew his horn a third time, and when the King heard it he said, "He that blew that horn drew a deep breath. " And Duke Naymes criedout, "Roland is in trouble; on my conscience he is fighting with theenemy. Some one has betrayed him; 'tis he, I doubt not, that woulddeceive you now. To arms, Sire! utter your war-cry, and help your ownhouse and your country. You have heard the cry of the noble Roland. "

Then King Charles bade all the trumpets sound, and forthwith all themen of France armed themselves, with helmets, and hauberks, and swordswith pommels of gold. Mighty were their shields, and their lancesstrong, and the flags that they carried were white and red and blue. And when they made an end of their arming they rode back with allhaste. There was not one of them but said to his comrade, "If we findRoland yet alive, what mighty strokes will we strike for him!"

But Ganelon the King handed over to the knaves of his kitchen. "Takethis traitor, " said he, "who has sold his country. " Ill did Ganelonfare among them. They pulled out his hair and his beard and smote himwith their staves; then they put a great chain, such as that withwhich a bear is bound, about his neck, and made him fast to apack-horse. 

This done, the King and his army hastened with all speed to the helpof Roland. In the van and the rear sounded the trumpets as though theywould answer Roland's horn. Full of wrath was King Charles as he rode;full of wrath were all the men of France. There was not one among thembut wept and sobbed; there was not one but prayed, "Now, may God keepRoland alive till we come to the battle-field, so that we may strike ablow for him. " Alas! it was all in vain; they could not come in timefor all their speed. 

Count Roland looked round on the mountain-sides and on the plains. Alas! how many noble sons of France he saw lying dead upon them! "Dearfriends, " he said, weeping as he spoke, "may God have mercy on you andreceive you into His Paradise! More loyal followers have I never seen. How is the fair land of France widowed of her bravest, and I can giveyou no help. Oliver, dear comrade, we must not part. If the enemy slayme not here, surely I shall be slain by sorrow. Come then, let ussmite these heathen. "

Thus did Roland again charge the enemy, his good sword Durendal in hishand; as the stag flies before the hounds, so did the heathen flybefore Roland. "By my faith, " cried the Archbishop when he saw him, "that is a right good knight! Such courage, and such a steed, and sucharms I love well to see. If a man be not brave and a stout fighter, hehad better by far be a monk in some cloister where he may pray all daylong for our sins. "

Now the heathen, when they saw how few the Frenchmen were, took freshcourage. And the Caliph, spurring his horse, rode against Oliver andsmote him in the middle of his back, making his spear pass rightthrough him. "That is a shrewd blow, " he cried; "I have avenged myfriends and countrymen upon you. "

Then Oliver knew he was stricken to death, but he would not fallunavenged. With his great sword Hautclere he smote the Caliph on hishead and cleft it to the teeth. "Curse on you, pagan. Neither yourwife nor any woman in the land of your birth shall boast that you havetaken a penny's worth from King Charles!" But to Roland he cried, "Come, comrade, help me; well I know that we two shall part in greatsorrow this day. "

Roland came with all speed, and saw his friend, how he lay all paleand fainting on the ground and how the blood gushed in great streamsfrom his wound. "I know not what to do, " he cried. "This is an illchance that has befallen you. Truly France is bereaved of her bravestson. " So saying he went near to swoon in the saddle as he sat. Thenthere befell a strange thing. Oliver had lost so much of his bloodthat he could not any more see clearly or know who it was that wasnear him. So he raised up his arm and smote with all his strength thatyet remained to him on the helmet of Roland his friend. The helmet hecleft in twain to the visor; but by good fortune it wounded not thehead. 

Roland looked at him and said in a gentle voice, "Did you this of setpurpose? I am Roland your friend, and have not harmed you. "

"Ah!" said Oliver, "I hear you speak, but I cannot see you. Pardon methat I struck you; it was not done of set purpose. "

"It harmed me not, " answered Roland; "with all my heart and before GodI forgive you. " And this was the way these two friends parted at thelast. 

And now Oliver felt the pains of death come over him. He could nolonger see nor hear. Therefore he turned his thoughts to making hispeace with God, and clasping his hands lifted them to heaven and madehis confession. "O Lord, " he said, "take me into Paradise. And do Thoubless King Charles and the sweet land of France. " And when he hadsaid thus he died. And Roland looked at him as he lay. There was notupon earth a more sorrowful man than he. "Dear comrade, " he said, "this is indeed an evil day. Many a year have we two been together. Never have I done wrong to you; never have you done wrong to me. Howshall I bear to live without you?" And he swooned where he sat on hishorse. But the stirrup held him up that he did not fall to the ground. 

When Roland came to himself he looked about him and saw how great wasthe calamity that had befallen his army. For now there were left aliveto him two only, Turpin the Archbishop and Walter of Hum. Walter hadbut that moment come down from the hills where he had been fighting sofiercely with the heathen that all his men were dead; now he cried toRoland for help. "Noble Count, where are you? I am Walter of Hum, andam not unworthy to be your friend. Help me therefore. For see how myspear is broken and my shield cleft in twain. My hauberk is in pieces, and my body sorely wounded. I am about to die; but I have sold my lifeat a great price. "

When Roland heard him cry he set spurs to his horse and galloped tohim. "Walter, " said he, "you are a brave warrior and a trustworthy. Tell me now where are the thousand valiant men whom you took from myarmy. They were right good soldiers, and I am in sore need of them. "

"They are dead, " answered Walter; "you will see them no more. A sorebattle we had with the Saracens yonder on the hills; they had the menof Canaan there and the men of Armenia and the Giants; there were nobetter men in their army than these. We dealt with them so that theywill not boast themselves of this day's work. But it cost us dear; allthe men of France lie dead on the plain, and I am wounded to thedeath. And now, Roland, blame me not that I fled; for you are my lord, and all my trust is in you. "

"I blame you not, " said Roland, "only as long as you live help meagainst the heathen. " And as he spake he took his cloak and rent itinto strips and bound up Walter's wounds therewith. This done he andWalter and the Archbishop set fiercely on the enemy. Five-and-twentydid Roland slay, and Walter slew six, and the Archbishop five. Threevaliant men of war they were; fast and firm they stood one by theother; hundreds there were of the heathen, but they dared not comenear to these three valiant champions of France. They stood far off, and cast at the three spears and darts and javelins and weapons ofevery kind. Walter of Hum was slain forthwith; and the Archbishop'sarmor was broken, and he wounded, and his horse slain under him. Nevertheless he lifted himself from the ground, still keeping a goodheart in his breast. "They have not overcome me yet, " said he; "aslong as a good soldier lives, he does not yield. "

Roland took his horn once more and sounded it, for he would knowwhether King Charles were coming. Ah me! it was a feeble blast that heblew. But the King heard it, and he halted and listened. "My lords!"said he, "things go ill for us, I doubt not. Today we shall lose, Ifear me much, my brave nephew Roland. I know by the sound of his hornthat he has but a short time to live. Put your horses to their fullspeed, if you would come in time to help him, and let a blast besounded by every trumpet that there is in the army. " So all thetrumpets in the host sounded a blast; all the valleys and hillsre-echoed with the sound; sore discouraged were the heathen when theyheard it. 

"King Charles has come again, " they cried; "we are all as dead men. When he comes he shall not find Roland alive. " Then four hundred ofthem, the strongest and most valiant knights that were in the army ofthe heathen, gathered themselves into one company, and made a yetfiercer assault on Roland. 

Roland saw them coming, and waited for them without fear. So long ashe lived he would not yield himself to the enemy or give place tothem. "Better death than flight, " said he, as he mounted his goodsteed Veillantif, and rode towards the enemy. And by his side wentTurpin the Archbishop on foot. Then said Roland to Turpin, "I am onhorseback and you are on foot. But let us keep together; never will Ileave you; we two will stand against these heathen dogs. They havenot, I warrant, among them such a sword as Durendal. "

"Good, " answered the Archbishop. "Shame to the man who does not smitehis hardest. And though this be our last battle, I know well that KingCharles will take ample vengeance for us. "

When the heathen saw these two stand together they fell back in fearand hurled at them spears and darts and javelins without number. Roland's shield they broke and his hauberk; but him they hurt not;nevertheless they did him a grievous injury, for they killed his goodsteed Veillantif. Thirty wounds did Veillantif receive, and he felldead under his master. At last the Archbishop was stricken and Rolandstood alone, for the heathen had fled from his presence. 

When Roland saw that the Archbishop was dead, his heart was sorelytroubled in him. Never did he feel a greater sorrow for comrade slain, save Oliver only. "Charles of France, " he said, "come as quickly asyou may! Many a gallant knight have you lost in Roncesvalles. But KingMarsilas, on his part, has lost his army. For one that has fallen onthis side there have fallen full forty on that. " So saying he turnedto the Archbishop; he crossed the dead man's hands upon his breast andsaid, "I commit thee to the Father's mercy. Never has man served Godwith a better will, never since the beginning of the world has therelived a sturdier champion of the faith. May God be good to you andgive you all good things!"

Now Roland felt that his own death was near at hand. In one hand hetook his horn, and in the other his good sword Durendal, and made hisway the distance of a furlong or so till he came to a plain, and inthe midst of the plain a little hill. On the top of the hill in theshade of two fair trees were four marble steps. There Roland fell in aswoon upon the grass. There a certain Saracen spied him. The fellowhad feigned death, and had laid himself down among the slain, havingcovered his body and his face with blood. When he saw Roland, heraised himself from where he was lying among the slain and ran to theplace, and, being full of pride and fury, seized the Count in hisarms, crying aloud, "He is conquered, he is conquered, he isconquered, the famous nephew of King Charles! See, here is his sword;'tis a noble spoil that I shall carry back with me to Arabia. "Thereupon he took the sword in one hand, with the other he laid holdof Roland's beard. 

But as the man laid hold, Roland came to himself, and knew that someone was taking his sword from him. He opened his eyes but not a worddid he speak save this only, "Fellow, you are none of ours, " and hesmote him a mighty blow upon his helmet. The steel he brake throughand the head beneath, and laid the man dead at his feet. "Coward, " hesaid, "what made you so bold that you dared lay hands on Roland?Whosoever knows him will think you a fool for your deed. "

[Illustration: ROLAND'S OWN DEATH WAS VERY NEAR]

And now Roland knew that death was near at hand. He raised himself andgathered all his strength together--ah me! how pale his face was!--andtook in his hand his good sword Durendal. Before him was a great rockand on this in his rage and pain he smote ten mighty blows. Loudrang the steel upon the stone; but it neither brake nor splintered. "Help me, " he cried, "O Mary, our Lady! O my good sword, my Durendal, what an evil lot is mine! In the day when I must part with you, mypower over you is lost. Many a battle I have won with your help; andmany a kingdom have I conquered, that my lord Charles possesses thisday. Never has any one possessed you that would fly before another. Solong as I live, you shall not be taken from me, so long have you beenin the hands of a loyal knight. "

Then he smote a second time with the sword, this time upon the marblesteps. Loud rang the steel, but neither brake nor splintered. ThenRoland began to bemoan himself. "O my good Durendal, " he said, "howbright and clear thou art, shining as shines the sun! Well I mind meof the day when a voice that seemed to come from heaven bade KingCharles give thee to a valiant captain; and forthwith the good Kinggirded it on my side. Many a land have I conquered with thee for him, and now how great is my grief! Can I die and leave thee to be handledby some heathen?" And the third time he smote a rock with it. Loudrang the steel, but it brake not, bounding back as though it wouldrise to the sky. And when Count Roland saw that he could not break thesword, he spake again but with more content in his heart. "ODurendal, " he said, "a fair sword art thou, and holy as fair. Thereare holy relics in thy hilt, relics of St. Peter and St. Denis and St. Basil. These heathen shall never possess thee; nor shalt thou be heldbut by a Christian hand. "

And now Roland knew that death was very near to him. He laid himselfdown with his head upon the grass, putting under him his horn and hissword, with his face turned towards the heathen foe. Ask you why hedid so? To show, forsooth, to Charlemagne and the men of France thathe died in the midst of victory. This done, he made a loud confessionof his sins, stretching his hand to heaven, "Forgive me, Lord, " hecried, "my sins, little and great, all that I have committed since theday of my birth to this hour in which I am stricken to death. " So heprayed; and, as he lay, he thought of many things, of the countrieswhich he had conquered, and of his dear fatherland France, and of hiskinsfolk, and of the good King Charles. Nor, as he thought, could hekeep himself from sighs and tears; yet one thing he remembered beyondall others--to pray for forgiveness of his sins. "O Lord, " he said, "who art the God of truth, and didst save Daniel Thy prophet from thelions, do Thou save my soul and defend it against all perils!" Sospeaking he raised his right hand, with the gauntlet yet upon it, tothe sky, and his head fell back upon his arm and the angels carriedhim to heaven. So died the great Count Roland. 

THE CID

[Illustration: THE YOUTHFUL CID AVENGING THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER]

Unlike some of the other heroes told about in this book, the Cid was areal man, whose name was Rodrigo Diaz, or Ruydiez. He was born inBurgos in the eleventh century and won the name of "Cid, " which means"Conqueror, " by defeating five Moorish kings. This happened afterSpain had been in the hands of the Arabs for more than three hundredyears, so it is small wonder that the Spaniards looked upon their heroas a very remarkable man. 

When Rodrigo was still a youth, his father, Diego Laynez, was grosslyinsulted by Don Gomez. The custom in those days was to avenge such aninsult by slaying the offender; but Diego was too old and feeble tobear arms. When he finally told his son of the wrong, Rodrigo soughtout Don Gomez and challenged him to fight. So bravely and skilfullydid Rodrigo manage his weapons that he slew his father's enemy. Thenhe cut off the head and carried it to Diego. 

Soon after this Diego bade his son do homage at King Ferdinand'scourt. Rodrigo appeared before the king, but his bearing was sodefiant that Ferdinand was frightened, and banished him. 

Rodrigo departed with three hundred followers, encountered some Moors, who were invading Castile, defeated them and took five of their kingscaptive, releasing them only after they had promised to pay tributeand to refrain from further warfare. It was these kings who firstcalled him "Cid. "

In return for his brave service Rodrigo was restored to favor andgiven place among the king's courtiers. 

One day Dona Ximena, daughter of Don Gomez, appeared and demandedjustice from the king. Recognizing Rodrigo among the courtiers, shecalled to him to slay her also. But both demand and cry were unheeded, for the king had been too well served by Rodrigo to listen to anyaccusation against him. 

Three times the maiden returned with the same request, and each timeshe came she heard greater praise of the young hero. At last shedecided to alter her demand. A fourth time she returned, consenting toforego all thoughts of vengeance if the king would order the younghero to marry her. The Cid was very willing, for he had learned tolove the girl, admiring her beauty and spirit. 

The marriage was celebrated with great pomp and the king gave Rodrigofour cities as a marriage portion. Rodrigo, vowing that he would notbe worthy of his wife until he had won five battles, after a piouspilgrimage to the shrine of the patron saint, hastened off toCalahorra, a frontier town claimed by two kings--the kings of Castileand Oregon. 

It had been decided that the dispute over the town should be settledby combat. Rodrigo became the champion of Ferdinand of Castile. Theother champion, Martin Gonzalez, began, as soon as the combat opened, to taunt the Cid. 

"Never again will you mount your favorite steed Babieça, " he said, "never will you return to your castle; never will you see your belovedXimena again. "

But the Cid was undaunted, and had soon laid his enemy low. Greatpraise then was given to the Cid--so great that the knights of Castilewere jealous and plotted to kill him. But the Moorish kings whom hehad captured and released warned him in time to avert the danger. 

Then the Cid aided Ferdinand in defeating the hostile Moors inEstremadura, after a siege of Coimbra lasting seven months. Severalother victories over his country's enemies were added to this, andthen Rodrigo returned to his beloved wife. 

But not for long was he permitted to remain in the quiet of home. Henry III, Emperor of Germany, complained to the Pope that KingFerdinand had refused to acknowledge his superiority. The Pope sent amessage to Ferdinand, demanding homage and tribute. The demand angeredboth Ferdinand and the Cid. 

"Never yet have we done homage, " cried the Cid, "and shall we now bowto a stranger?"

A proud refusal was then sent to the Pope, and he, knowing of nobetter way to settle the dispute, bade Henry send a champion to meetRodrigo. The emperor's champion was, of course, defeated, and all ofFerdinand's enemies were so awed by the outcome of the fight that noneever again demanded homage or tribute. Rodrigo was, indeed, a veryuseful subject. When Ferdinand died, he was succeeded by his son, DonSancho. The latter, planning a visit to Rome, selected the Cid toaccompany him. Arriving, they found that in the preparations that hadbeen made for their reception a lower seat had been prepared for DonSancho than for the King of France. The Cid would not suffer such aslight, and became so violent that the Pope excommunicated him. Nevertheless, the seats were made of equal height, and the Cid, whowas a good Catholic, humbled himself before the Pope and was forgiven. 

It was an age of great wars, and the Cid aided his king in many abrave fight. At last, in the siege of Zamora, the king wastreacherously murdered, and, as he had no sons, Don Alfonso, hisbrother, succeeded. When he arrived at Zamora the Cid refused toacknowledge Alfonso until he should swear that he had no part in themurder. The king, angered by the Cid's attitude, plotted revenge. Opportunity came during a war with the Moors, and the Cid was banishedupon a slight pretext. 

"I obey, O king, " replied the Cid, when he heard the decree. "I ammore ready to serve you than you are to reward me. I pray that you maynever more in battle need the right arm and sword that so often servedyour father. "

Then the Cid rode away, through a crowd of weeping people, and campedoutside of the city until he could make definite plans. The peoplelonged to bring him food or offer him shelter, but they feared thedispleasure of the king. One old man, however, crept outside of thecity with food, declaring that he cared "not a fig" for Alfonso'scommands. 

The Cid needed money, and to get it he pledged two locked coffers tosome Jews. The Jews in those days were much despised by theChristians, though usually very wealthy. The men, thinking that theboxes contained vast treasures, when in reality they were filled withsand, advanced the Cid 600 marks of gold. Then the hero bade farewellto his wife and children and rode away, vowing that he would return, covered with glory and carrying with him rich spoils. 

Within two weeks' time the Cid and his little band of followers hadcaptured two Moorish strongholds and carried off much spoil. The Cidthen prepared a truly royal present and sent it to the king. Alfonso, upon receiving the gift, pardoned the Cid, and published an edictpermitting all who wished to join in the fight against the Moors tojoin Rodrigo and his band. 

Toledo, thanks to the valor of the Cid, soon fell into the hands ofAlfonso, but a misunderstanding arose and the king insulted the Cid. The latter, in great rage, left the army and made a sudden raid onCastile. Then the Moors, knowing that the Cid had departed, tookcourage and captured Valencia. But the Cid, hearing of the disaster, promptly returned, recaptured the city, and sent a message to Alfonsoasking for his wife and daughters. At the same time he sent more thanthe promised sum of money to the Jews, who up to this time had notlearned that the coffers were filled with sand. To the messenger hesaid:

"Tell them, that although they can find nothing in the coffers butsand, they will find that the pure gold of my truth lies beneath thesand. "

As the Cid was now master of Valencia, and of vast wealth, hisdaughters were sought in marriage by many suitors, and the marriage ofboth girls was celebrated with great splendor. But the Counts ofCarrion, their husbands, were not brave men like the Cid, and afterlingering at Valencia in idleness for two years, their weakness wasclearly shown. 

One evening while the Cid was sleeping, a lion broke loose from hisprivate menagerie and entered the room where he lay. The two princes, who were playing in the room, fled, one in his haste falling into anempty vat, and the other taking refuge behind the Cid's couch. Theroaring of the lion wakened the Cid, and jumping up he seized hissword, caught the lion by the mane, led it back to its cage, andcalmly returned to his place. 

The cowardly conduct of the Counts of Carrion roused the anger of theCid's followers, and in the siege of Valencia that followed theirconduct brought only contempt. When the Moors were finally driven awaythe counts asked permission to return home with their brides andgifts. 

So the Cid parted from his daughters, weeping at the loss. Theprocession started. The first morning the counts sent their escortsahead, and, left alone with their wives, stripped them of theirgarments, beat them and kicked them, and left them for dead. But FelezMuñoz, a loyal follower of the Cid's, riding back, found the twowives, bound up their wounds and obtained shelter for them in thehouse of a poor man whose wife and daughters promised to nurse them. Then he rode on to tell the Cid. The Cid swore that he would beavenged, and as Alfonso was responsible for the marriage, he appliedto him for redress. 

The king, who had long since forgiven the Cid and learned to value hisservices, was very angry. A battle was finally arranged. The Counts ofCarrion and their uncle were defeated and banished, and the Cidreturned in triumph to Valencia. Here his daughters' second marriagetook place. 

The Moors returned five years later, and the Cid was prepared to meetthem when he received a vision of St. Peter, predicting that he woulddie within thirty days, but that even though dead he would triumphover his enemy. He accordingly made preparations for his death, andafter appointing a successor, he gave instructions that none shouldweep over his death, and that his body when embalmed should be setupon his horse, Babieça, and that, with his sword Tizona in his hand, he should be led on a certain day against the enemy. 

The hero died and his successor together with his wife Ximena stroveto carry out his instructions. A battle was planned, and the Cid, strapped upon his war horse, rode in the van. The Moors, filled withterror, fled before him. 

After the victory the body was placed in the Church of San Pedro deCardeña, where for ten years it remained seated, in plain view of all. 

Transcriber's Notes:

Minor printer errors (omitted or incorrect punctuation) have beenamended without note. Minor inconsistencies in hyphenation have beenresolved where possible, or retained where there was no way todetermine which was correct, again without note. Other errors havebeen amended, and are listed below. 

Illustrations have been shifted slightly so that they do not fall inthe middle of paragraphs. The frontispiece illustration has been movedto follow the title page, and the cover illustration has had thecaption from the List of Illustrations added. Minor punctuationvariations between the List of Illustrations and illustration captionshave been made consistent without note. 

Some of the earlier tales use Greek mythological names, while othersuse the Roman equivalent (for example, Poseidon or Neptune, Ares orMars). Some Greek names use a Latin spelling (for example, Thermiscirarather than Thermiscyra), or have differing spelling in differenttales (for example Hera and Heré). These have been left unchanged, except where there was an obvious error. 

List of Amendments:

Page 11--Delhi amended to Delphi--"So he traveled to Delphi ... "

Page 35--Petraus amended to Petraeus--"... Pierced a mighty Centaur, Petraeus, ... "

Page 102--stomaches amended to stomachs--"... Furnaces in theirstomachs had likewise been extinguished, ... "

Page 134--Agammenon amended to Agamemnon--"Then said King Agamemnon, "But how ... ""

Page 219--Brunhild amended to Kriemhild--"Kriemhild promised to obeyhis instructions, ... "