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 Story of the golden age 
 
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BY JAMES BALDWIN 
 
 THE SAMPO 
 
 A STORY OF THE GOLDEN AGE 
 THE STORY OF SIEGFRIED 
 THE STORY OF ROLAND 
 HERO TALES TOLD IN SCHOOL 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/storyofgoldenageObald 
 
PYRRHUS FINDS PHILOCTETES IN A CAVE. 
 
HEROES OF THE OLDEN TIME 
 
 A STORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES BALDWIN 
 
 Illustrated by Howard *Pyle 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 1937 
 
Copyright, 1887, 1888, by 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 Copyright, 1915, bv 
 JAMES BALDWIN 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 All rights reserved. No part of this hook 
 may be reproduced in any form without 
 the permission of Charles Scribner's Sons 
 
 
TO MAY. 
 
 / 
 
 n 
 > 
 
THE FORE WORD. 
 
 You have heard of Homer, and of the two wonderful 
 poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, which bear his 
 name. No one knows whether these poems were com- 
 posed by Homer, or whether they are the work of 
 many different poets. And, in fact, it matters very 
 little about their authorship. Everybody agrees that 
 they are the grandest poems ever sung or written or 
 read in this world ; and yet, how few persons, com- 
 paratively, have read them, or know any thing about 
 them except at second-hand ! Homer commences his 
 story, not at the beginning, but " in the midst of 
 things ; " hence, when one starts out to read the 
 Iliad without having made some special prepara- 
 tion beforehand, he finds it hard to understand, and 
 is tempted, in despair, to stop at the end of the first 
 book. Many people are, therefore, content to admire 
 the great masterpiece of poetry and story-telling simply 
 
viii The Fore Word. 
 
 because others admire it, and not because they have 
 any personal acquaintance with it. 
 
 Now, it is not my purpose to give you a " simpli- 
 fied version " of the Iliad or the Odyssey. There 
 are already many such versions ; but the best way 
 for you, or any one else, to read Homer, is to read 
 Homer. If you do not understand Greek, you can read 
 him in one of the many English translations. You 
 will find much of the spirit of the original in the 
 translations by Bryant, by Lord Derby, and by old 
 George Chapman, as well as in the admirable prose 
 rendering by Butcher and Lang ; but you can get 
 none of it in any so-called simplified version. 
 
 My object in writing this "Story of the Golden 
 Age " has been to pave the way, if I dare say it, to 
 an enjoyable reading of Homer, either in translations 
 or in the original. I have taken the various legends 
 relating to the causes of the Trojan war, and, by as- 
 suming certain privileges never yet denied to story- 
 tellers, have woven all into one continuous narrative, 
 ending where Homer's story begins. The hero of the 
 Odyssey — a character not always to be admired or 
 commended — is my hero. And, in telling the story of 
 his boyhood and youth, I have taken the opportunity 
 
The Fore Word. ix 
 
 to repeat, for your enjoyment, some of the most beauti- 
 ful of the old Greek myths. If I have, now and then, 
 given them a coloring slightly different from the ori- 
 ginal, you will remember that such is the right of the 
 story-teller, the poet, and the artist. The essential 
 features of the stories remain unchanged. I have, all 
 along, drawn freely from the old tragedians, and now 
 and then from Homer himself ; nor have I thought 
 it necessary in every instance to mention authorities, 
 or to apologize for an occasional close imitation of 
 some of the best translations. The pictures of old 
 Greek life have, in the main, been derived from the 
 Iliad and the Odyssey, and will, I hope, help you to 
 a better understanding of those poems when you 
 come to make acquaintance directly with them. 
 
 Should you become interested in the " Story of the 
 Golden Age," as it is here related, do not be disap- 
 pointed by its somewhat abrupt ending; for you will 
 find it continued by the master-poet of all ages, in a 
 manner both inimitable and unapproachable. If you 
 are pleased with the discourse of the porter at the 
 gate, how much greater shall be your delight when 
 you stand in the palace of the king, and hearken to 
 the song of the royal minstrel ! 
 

CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE FORE WORD v 
 
 ADVENTURE 
 
 I. A Glimpse of the World * i 
 
 II. A Voyage on the Sea 13 
 
 III. The Centre of the Earth 29 
 
 IV. The Silver-Bowed Apollo jj 
 
 V. The King of Cattle Thieves ..... 47 
 
 VI. Two Famous Boar Hunts ....... 62 
 
 VII. At Old Cheiron's School 79 
 
 VIII. The Golden Apple 95 
 
 IX. The Swineherd 112 
 
 X. The Sea Robbers of Messene 121 
 
 XI. The Bow of Eurytus . 133 
 
 XII. The Most Beautiful Woman in the World . . 146 
 
 XIII. A Race for a Wife 154 
 
 XIV. How a Great Hero met His Master .... 170 
 XV. Long Live the King .... ... 183 
 
 XVI. The Children of Prometheus . . . . 190 
 
 XVII. A Cause of War . 205 
 
 si 
 
xii Contents. 
 
 ADVENTURE PAGE 
 
 XVIII. An Unwilling Hero 220 
 
 XIX. Heroes in Strange Garb ...... 226 
 
 XX. Becalmed at Aulis 238 
 
 XXI. The Long Siege 
 
 252 
 
 THE AFTER WORD 269 
 
 NOTES 
 
 273 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Pyrrhus Finds Philoctetes in a Cave, . . Frontispiece 
 
 Odysseus and His Mother, To face p. 8 
 
 Apollo Slaying the Python, 42 
 
 Meleager Refuses to Help in the Defence of the City, 74 
 
 The Silver-Footed Thetis Rising from the Waves, . 96 
 
 The Swineherd Telling His Story to Odysseus, . .116 
 
 Alpheus and Arethusa, 132 
 
 Odysseus Advises King Tyndareus Concerning Helen's 
 Suitors, 154 
 
 Deianeira and the Dying Centaur Nessus, . . . 176 
 
 Prometheus, 198 
 
 Palamedes Tests the Madness of Odysseus, . . . 222 
 Odysseus and Menelaus Persuading Agamemnon to Sacri- 
 fice Iphigenia, 242 
 
 MAPS. 
 
 A Glimpse of the World (The Map which Phemius Drew 
 
 in the Sand), To face p. 4 
 
 General Map of Greece, * 278 
 
A STORY OF THE GOLDEN AGE. 
 
ADVENTURE L 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF THE WORLD. 
 
 To the simple-hearted folk who dwelt in that island 
 three thousand years ago, there was never a sweeter 
 spot than sea-girt Ithaca. Rocky and rugged though 
 it may have seemed, yet it was indeed a smiling land 
 embosomed in the laughing sea. There the air was 
 always mild and pure, and balmy with the breath of 
 blossoms ; the sun looked kindly down from a cloudless 
 sky, and storms seldom broke the quiet ripple of the 
 waters which bathed the shores of that island home. 
 On every side but one, the land rose straight up out ot 
 the deep sea to meet the feet of craggy hills and moun- 
 tains crowned with woods. Between the heights were 
 many narrow dells green with orchards ; while the gen- 
 tler slopes were covered with vineyards, and the steeps 
 above them gave pasturage to flocks of long-wooled 
 sheep and mountain-climbing goats. 
 
 On that side of the island which lay nearest the ris- 
 ing sun, there was a fine, deep harbor ; for there the 
 shore bent inward, and only a narrow neck of land lay 
 between the eastern waters and the western sea. Close 
 
A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 on either side of this harbor arose two mountains, Neri- 
 tus and Nereius, which stood like giant watchmen over- 
 looking land and sea and warding harm away ; and on 
 the neck, midway between these mountains, was the 
 king's white palace, roomy and large, with blossoming 
 orchards to the right and the left, and broad lawns in 
 front, sloping down to the water's edge. 
 
 Here, many hundreds of years ago, lived Laertes — 
 a man of simple habits, who thought his little island 
 home a kingdom large enough, and never sighed for a 
 greater. Not many men had seen so much of the world 
 as he ; for he had been to Colchis with Jason and the 
 Argonauts, and his feet had trod the streets of every 
 city in Hellas. Yet in all his wanderings he had seen 
 no fairer land than rocky Ithaca. His eyes had been 
 dazzled by the brightness of the Golden Fleece, and the 
 kings of Argos and of Ilios had shown him the gold 
 and gems of their treasure-houses. Yet what cared he 
 for wealth other than that which his flocks and vine- 
 yards yielded him ? There was hardly a day but that 
 he might be seen in the fields guiding his plough, or 
 training his vines, or in his orchards pruning his trees, 
 or gathering the mellow fruit. He had all the good 
 gifts of life that any man needs ; and for them he never 
 failed to thank the great Giver, nor to render praises 
 to the powers above. His queen, fair Anticleia, daugh- 
 ter of the aged chief Autolycus, was a true housewife, 
 overseeing the maidens at their tasks, busying herself 
 with the distaff and the spindle, or plying the shuttle 
 
A Glimpse of the World. 
 
 at the loom ; and many were the garments, rich with 
 finest needlework, which her own fair fingers had 
 fashioned. 
 
 To Laertes and Anticleia one child had been born, — 
 a son, who, they hoped, would live to bring renown to 
 Ithaca. This boy, as he grew, became strong in body 
 and mind far beyond his playfellows ; and those who 
 knew him wondered at the shrewdness of his speech no 
 less than at the strength and suppleness of his limbs. 
 And yet he was small of stature, and neither in face 
 nor in figure was he adorned with any of Apollo's grace. 
 On the day that he was twelve years old, he stood with 
 his tutor, the bard Phemius, on the top of Mount Neri- 
 tus ; below him, spread out like a great map, lay what 
 was to him the whole world. Northward, as far as his 
 eyes could see, there were islands great and small ; and 
 among them Phemius pointed out Taphos, the home of 
 a sea-faring race, where Anchialus, chief of warriors, 
 ruled. Eastward were other isles, and the low-lying 
 shores of Acarnania, so far away that they seemed mere 
 lines of hazy green between the purple waters and the 
 azure sky. Southward beyond Samos were the wooded 
 heights of Zacynthus, and the sea-paths which led to 
 Pylos and distant Crete. Westward was the great sea, 
 stretching away and away to the region of the setting 
 sun ; the watery kingdom of Poseidon, full of strange 
 beings and unknown dangers, — a sea upon which none 
 but the bravest mariners dared launch their ships. 
 
 The boy had often looked upon these scenes of beauty 
 
A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 and mystery, but to-day his heart was stirred with an 
 unwonted feeling of awe and of wonder at the great- 
 ness and grandeur of the world as it thus lay around 
 him. Tears filled his eyes as he turned to his tutor. 
 " How kind it was of the Being who made this pleas- 
 ant earth, to set our own sunny Ithaca right in the cen- 
 tre of it, and to cover it all over with a blue dome like 
 a tent ! But tell me, do people live in all those lands 
 that we see ? I know that there are men dwelling in 
 Zacynthus and in the little islands of the eastern sea ; 
 for their fishermen often come to Ithaca, and I have 
 talked with them. And I have heard my father tell of 
 his wonderful voyage to Colchis, which is in the region 
 of the rising sun ; and my mother often speaks of her 
 old home in Parnassus, which also is far away towards 
 the dawn. Is it true that there are men, women, and 
 children, living in lands which we cannot see? and do 
 the great powers above us care for them as for the 
 good people of Ithaca ? And is there anywhere another 
 king so great as my father Laertes, or another kingdom 
 so rich and happy as his ? " 
 
 Then Phemius told the lad all about the land of 
 the Hellenes beyond the narrow sea ; and, in the sand 
 at their feet, ne drew with a stick a map of all the 
 countries known to him. 
 
 " We cannot see half of the world from this spot," 
 said the bard, " neither is Ithaca the centre of it, as it 
 seems to you. I will draw a picture of it here in the 
 sand, and show you where lies every land and every 
 
Stream 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF THE WORLD. 
 
 The Map which Phemius drew in the San<*. 
 
A Glimpse of the World. 
 
 sea. Right here in the very centre," said he, heaping 
 up a pile of sand into the shape of a mountain, — 
 " right here in the very centre of the world is Mount 
 Parnassus, the home of the Muses ; and in its shadow 
 is sacred Delphi, where stands Apollo's temple. South 
 of Parnassus is the Bay of Crissa, sometimes called the 
 Corinthian Gulf. The traveller who sails westwardly 
 through those waters will have on his right hand the 
 pleasant hills and dales of ^Etolia and the wooded 
 lands of Calydon ; while on his left will rise the rugged 
 mountains of Achaia, and the gentler slopes of Elis. 
 Here to the south of Elis are Messene, and sand) Pylos 
 where godlike Nestor and his aged father Neleus re ; gn. 
 Here, to the east, is Arcadia, a land of green pastures 
 and sweet contentment, unwashed by any sea ; and 
 next to it is Argolis, — rich in horses, but richest of all 
 in noble men, — and Lacedaemon in Laconia, famous for 
 its warriors and its beautiful women. Far to the north 
 of Parnassus is Mount Olympus, the heaven-towering 
 home of Zeus, and the place where the gods and god- 
 desses hold their councils." 
 
 Then Phemius, as he was often wont to do, began to 
 put his words into the form of music ; and he sang a 
 song of the world as he supposed it to be. He sang 
 of Helios the Sun, and of his flaming chariot and his 
 four white steeds, and of the wonderful journey which 
 he makes every day above the earth ; and he sang of 
 the snowy mountains of Caucasus in the distant east ; 
 and of the gardens of the Hesperides even farther to the 
 
6 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 westward ; and of the land of the Hyperboreans, which 
 lies beyond the northern mountains ; and of the sunny 
 climes where live the Ethiopians, the farthest distant 
 of all earth's dwellers. Then he sang of the flowing 
 stream of Ocean which encircles all lands in its em 
 brace ; and, lastly, of the Islands of the Blest, where 
 fair-haired Rhadamanthus rules, and where there is 
 neither snow nor beating rains, but everlasting spring; 
 and breezes balmy with the breath of life. 
 
 " O Phemius ! " cried the boy, as the bard laid asida 
 his harp, " I never knew that the world was so large. 
 Can it be that there are so many countries and so 
 many strange people beneath the same sky ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Phemius, " the world is very broad, 
 and our Ithaca is but one of the smallest of a thousand 
 lands upon which Helios smiles, as he makes his daily 
 journey through the skies. It is not given to one man 
 to know all these lands ; and happiest is he whose only 
 care is for his home, deeming it the centre around 
 which the world is built." 
 
 " If only the half of what you have told me be true," 
 said the boy, " I cannot rest until I have seen some of 
 those strange lands, and learned more about the won- 
 derful beings which live in them. I cannot bear to 
 think of being always shut up within the narrow 
 bounds of little Ithaca." 
 
 " My dear boy," said Phemius, laughing, " your mind 
 has been greatly changed within the past few moments. 
 When we came here, a little while ago, you thought 
 
A Glimpse of the World. 
 
 that Neritus was the grandest mountain in the world, 
 and that Ithaca was the centre round which the earth 
 was built. Then you were cheerful and contented ; 
 but now you are restless and unhappy, because you 
 have learned of possibilities such as, hitherto, you had 
 not dreamed about. Your eyes have been opened to 
 see and to know the world as it is, and you are no 
 longer satisfied with that which Ithaca can give 
 you." 
 
 " But why did you not tell me these things before ? " 
 asked the boy. 
 
 " It was your mother's wish," answered the bard, 
 " that you should not know them until to-day. Do you 
 remember what day this is ? " 
 
 " It is my twelfth birthday. And I remember, too, 
 that there was a promise made to my grandfather, 
 that when I was twelve years old I should visit him in 
 his strong halls on Mount Parnassus. I mean to ask 
 my mother about it at once." 
 
 And without waiting for another word from Phemius, 
 the lad ran hurriedly down the steep pathway, and was 
 soon at the foot of the mountain. Across the fields 
 he hastened, and through the vineyards where the 
 vines, trained by his father's own hand, were already 
 hanging heavy with grapes. He found his mother in 
 the inner hall, sitting before the hearth, and twisting 
 from her distaff threads of bright sea-purple, while her 
 maidens plied their tasks around her. He knelt upon 
 the marble floor, and gently clasped his mother's knees. 
 
8 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 1 " — ■■■■■■■ i WQ 
 
 " Mother," he said, " I come to ask a long-promised 
 boon of you." 
 
 "What is it, my son?" asked the queen, laying aside 
 her distaff. " If there be any thing in Ithaca that I 
 can give you, you shall surely have it." 
 
 " I want nothing in Ithaca," answered the boy; "I 
 want to see more of this great world than I ever yet 
 have known. And now that I am twelve years old, 
 you surely will not forget the promise, long since made, 
 that I should spend the summer with my grandfather 
 at Parnassus. Let me go very soon, I pray ; for I tire 
 of this narrow Ithaca." 
 
 The queen's eyes filled with tears as she answered, 
 " You shall have your wish, my son. The promise given 
 both to you and to my father must be fulfilled. For, 
 when you were but a little babe, Autolycus came to 
 Ithaca. And one evening, as he feasted at your father's 
 table, your nurse, Dame Eurycleia, brought you into 
 the hall, and put you into his arms. 'Give this dear 
 babe, O king, a name,' said she. ' He is thy daughter's 
 son, the heir to Ithaca's rich realm ; and we hope that 
 he will live to make his name and thine remembered.' 
 
 "Then Autolycus smiled, and gently dandled you 
 upon his knees. ' My daughter, and my daughter's lord/ 
 said he, ' let this child's name be Odysseus ; for he shall 
 visit many lands and climes, and wander long upon the 
 tossing sea. Yet wheresoever the Fates may drive him, 
 his heart will ever turn to Ithaca his home. Call him 
 by the name which I have given ; and when his twelfth 
 
ODYSSEUS AND HIS MOTHER. 
 
A Glimpse of the World. 
 
 birthday shall have passed, send him to my strong halls 
 in the shadow of Parnassus, where his mother in her 
 girlhood dwelt. Then I will share my riches with him, 
 and send him back to Ithaca rejoicing ! ' So spake my 
 father, great Autolycus ; and before we arose from that 
 feast, we pledged our word that it should be with you 
 even as he wished. And your name, Odysseus, has 
 every day recalled to mind that feast and our binding 
 words." 
 
 "Oh that I could go at once, dear mother!" said 
 Odysseus, kissing her tears away. " I would come 
 home again very soon. I would stay long enough to 
 have the blessing of my kingly grandfather; I would 
 climb Parnassus, and listen to the sweet music of the 
 Muses ; I would drink one draught from the Castalian 
 spring of which you have so often told me ; I would 
 ramble one day among the groves and glens, that per- 
 chance I might catch a glimpse of Apollo or of his 
 huntress sister Artemis ; and then I would hasten back 
 to Ithaca, and would never leave you again." 
 
 " My son," then said Laertes, who had come unheard 
 into the hall, and had listened to the boy's earnest 
 words, — " my son, you shall have your wish, for I know 
 that the Fates have ordered it so. We have long looked 
 forward to this day, and for weeks past we have been 
 planning for your journey. My stanchest ship is ready 
 to carry you over the sea, and needs only to be launched 
 into the bay. Twelve strong oarsmen are sitting now 
 upon the beach, waiting for orders to embark. To 
 
io A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 morrow, with the bard Phemius as your friend and 
 guide, you may set forth on your voyage to Parnassus. 
 Let us go down to the shore at once, and offer prayers 
 to Poseidon, ruler of the sea, that he may grant you 
 favoring winds and a happy voyage." 
 
 Odysseus kissed his mother again, and, turning, fol- 
 lowed his father from the hall. 
 
 Then Anticleia rose, and bade the maidens hasten to 
 make ready the evening meal ; but she herself went 
 weeping to her own chamber, there to choose the gar- 
 ments which her son should take with him upon his 
 journey. Warm robes of wool, and a broidered tunic 
 which she with her own hands had spun and woven, 
 she folded and laid with care in a little wooden chest ; 
 and with them she placed many a little comfort, fruit 
 and sweetmeats, such as she rightly deemed would please 
 the lad. Then when she had closed the lid, she threw 
 a strong cord around the chest, and tied it firmly down. 
 This done, she raised her eyes towards heaven, and lift- 
 ing up her hands, she prayed to Pallas Athene : — 
 
 " O queen of the air and sky, hearken to my prayer, 
 and help me lay aside the doubting fears which creep 
 into my mind, and cause these tears to flow. For now 
 my boy, unused to hardships, and knowing nothing of 
 the world, is to be sent forth on a long and dangerous 
 voyage. I tremble lest evil overtake him ; but more 
 I fear, that, with the lawless men of my father's house- 
 hold, he shall forget his mother's teachings, and stray 
 from the path of duty. Do thou, O queen, go with him 
 
A Glimpse of the World. 1 1 
 
 as his guide and guard, keep him from harm, and bring 
 him safe again to Ithaca and his loving mother's arms." 
 
 Meanwhile Laertes and the men of Ithaca stood 
 upon the beach, and offered up two choice oxen to 
 Poseidon, ruler of the sea ; and they prayed him that 
 he would vouchsafe favoring winds and quiet waters 
 and a safe journey to the bold voyagers who to-morrow 
 would launch their ship upon the deep. And when the 
 sun began to sink low down in the west, some sought 
 their homes, and others went up to the king's white 
 palace to tarry until after the evening meal. 
 
 Cheerful was the feast ; and as the merry jest went 
 round, no one seemed more free from care than King 
 Laertes. And when all had eaten of the food, and had 
 tasted of the red wine made from the king's own vint- 
 age, the bard Phemius arose, and tuned his harp, and 
 sang many sweet and wonderful songs. He sang of 
 the beginning of things ; of the broad-breasted Earth, 
 the mother of created beings ; of the sky, and the sea, 
 and the mountains ; of the mighty race of Titans, — 
 giants who once ruled the earth ; of great Atlas, who 
 holds the sky-dome upon his shoulders ; of Cronos and 
 old Oceanus ; of the war which for ten years raged on 
 Mount Olympus, until Zeus hurled his unfeeling father 
 Cronos from the throne, and seized the sceptre for 
 himself. 
 
 When Phemius ended his singing, the guests with- 
 drew from the hall, and each went silently to his own 
 home ; and Odysseus, having kissed his dear father and 
 
12 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 mother, went thoughtfully to his sleeping-room high up 
 above the great hall. With him went his nurse, Dame 
 Eurycleia, carrying the torches. She had been a 
 princess once ; but hard fate and cruel war had over- 
 thrown her father's kingdom, and had sent her forth a 
 captive and a slave. Laertes had bought her of her 
 captors for a hundred oxen, and had given her a place 
 of honor in his household next to Anticleia. She loved 
 Odysseus as she would love her own dear child ; for, 
 since his birth, she had nursed and cared for him. 
 She now, as was her wont, lighted him to his chamber ; 
 she laid back the soft coverings of his bed ; she 
 smoothed the fleeces, and hung his tunic within easy 
 reach. Then with kind words of farewell for the night, 
 she quietly withdrew, and closed the door, and pulled 
 the thong outside which turned the fastening latch. 
 Odysseus wrapped himself among the fleeces of his 
 bed, and soon was lost in slumber. 1 
 
 1 See Note i at the end of this volume. 
 
ADVENTURE U. 
 
 A VOYAGE ON THE SEA. 
 
 Early the next morning, while yet the dawn was 
 waiting for the sun, Odysseus arose and hastened to 
 make ready for his journey. The little galley which 
 was to carry him across the sea had been already 
 launched, and was floating close to the shore ; and the 
 oarsmen stood upon the beach impatient to begin the 
 voyage. The sea-stores, and the little chest in which 
 the lad's wardrobe lay, were brought on board and 
 placed beneath the rowers' benches. The old men of 
 Ithaca, and the boys and the maidens, hurried down to 
 the shore, that they might bid the voyagers God-speed. 
 Odysseus, when all was ready, spoke a few last kind 
 words to his mother and sage Laertes, and then with a 
 swelling heart went up the vessel's side, and sat down 
 in the stern. And Phemius the bard, holding his 
 sweet-toned harp, followed him, and took his place in 
 the prow. Then the sailors loosed the moorings, and 
 went on board, and, sitting on the rowers' benches, 
 wielded the long oars ; and the little vessel, driven by 
 their well-timed strokes, turned slowly about, and then 
 
 »3 
 
14 A Story of the Golden Age, 
 
 glided smoothly across the bay ; and the eyes of all on 
 shore were wet with tears as they prayed the rulers of 
 the air and the sea that the voyagers might reach their 
 wished-for port in safety, and in due time come back 
 unharmed to Ithaca 
 
 No sooner had the vessel reached the open sea, than 
 Pallas Athene sent after it a gentle west wind to urge 
 it on its way. As the soft breeze, laden with the 
 perfumes of blossoming orchards, stirred the water into 
 rippling waves, Phemius bade the rowers lay aside their 
 oars, and hoist the sail. They heeded his behest, and 
 lifting high the slender mast, they bound it in its place ; 
 then they stretched aloft the broad white sail, and the 
 west wind caught and filled it, and drove the little bark 
 cheerily over the waves. And the grateful crew sat 
 down upon the benches, and with Odysseus and Phe- 
 mius the bard, they joined in offering heartfelt thanks 
 to Pallas Athene, who had so kindly prospered them. 
 And by and by Phemius played soft melodies on his 
 harp, such as the sea-nymphs liked to hear. And all 
 that summer day the breezes whispered in the rigging, 
 and the white waves danced in the vessel's wake, and 
 the voyagers sped happily on their way. 
 
 In the afternoon, when they had begun somewhat to 
 tire of the voyage, Phemius asked Odysseus what they 
 should do to lighten the passing hours. 
 
 "Tell us some story of the olden time," said Odys- 
 seus. And the bard, who was never better pleased 
 than when recounting some wonderful tale, sat down 
 
A Voyage on the Sea. 15 
 
 in the midships, where the oarsmen could readily hear 
 him, and told the strange story of Phaethon, the rash 
 son of Helios Hyperion. 
 
 " Among the immortals who give good gifts to men, 
 there is no one more kind than Helios, the bestower 
 of light and heat. Every morning when the Dawn 
 with her rosy fingers illumes the eastern sky, good 
 Helios rises from his golden couch, and from their 
 pasture calls his milk-white steeds. By name he calls 
 them, — 
 
 " ' Eos, iEthon, Bronte, Astrape ! ' 
 
 " Each hears his master's voice, and comes obedient. 
 Then about their bright manes and his own yellow 
 locks he twines wreaths of sweet-smelling flowers, — 
 amaranths and daffodils and asphodels from the heaven- 
 ly gardens. And the Hours come and harness the 
 steeds to the burning sun-car, and put the reins into 
 Helios Hyperion's hands. He mounts to his place, he 
 speaks, — and the winged team soars upward into the 
 morning air ; and all earth's children awake, and give 
 thanks to the ruler of the Sun for the new day which 
 smiles down upon them. 
 
 " Hour after hour, with steady hand, Helios guides 
 his steeds ; and the flaming car is borne along the 
 sun-road through the sky. And when the day's work 
 is done, and sable night comes creeping over the earth, 
 the steeds, the car, and the driver sink softly down 
 to the western Ocean's stream, where a golden vessel 
 
1 6 A Story of the Golden Age, 
 
 waits to bear them back again, swiftly and unseen, to 
 the dwelling of the Sun in the east. There, under the 
 home-roof, Helios greets his mother and his wife and 
 his dear children ; and there he rests until the Dawn 
 again leaves old Ocean's bed, and blushing comes to 
 bid him journey forth anew. 
 
 " One son had Helios, Phaethon the Gleaming, and 
 among the children of men there was no one more fair. 
 And the great heart of Helios beat with love for his 
 earth-child, and he gave him rich gifts, and kept nothing 
 from him. 
 
 " And Phaethon, as he grew up, became as proud as 
 he was fair, and wherever he went he boasted of his 
 kinship to the Sun ; and men when they looked upon 
 his matchless form and his radiant features believed his 
 words, and honored him as the heir of Helios Hyperion. 
 But one Epaphos, a son of Zeus, sneered. 
 
 "'Thou a child of Helios!' he said; 'what folly \ 
 Thou canst show nothing wherewith to prove thy kin 
 ship, save thy fair face and thy yellow hair ; and there 
 are many maidens in Hellas who have those, and are 
 as beautiful as thou. Manly grace and handsome fea- 
 tures are indeed the gifts of the gods ; but it is by 
 godlike deeds alone that one can prove his kinship to 
 the immortals. While Helios Hyperion — thy father, 
 as thou wouldst have it — guides his chariot above the 
 clouds, and showers blessings upon the earth, what dost 
 thou do? What, indeed, but dally with thy yellow 
 locks, and gaze upon thy costly clothing, while all the 
 
A Voyage on the Sea. ij 
 
 time thy feet are in the dust, and the mire of the earth 
 holds them fast ? If thou hast kinship with the gods, 
 prove it by doing the deeds of the gods ! If thou art 
 Helios Hyperion's son, guide for one day his chariot 
 through the skies.' 
 
 "Thus spoke Epaphos. And the mind of Phaethon 
 was filled with lofty dreams ; and, turning away from 
 the taunting tempter, he hastened to his father's house. 
 
 "Never-tiring Helios, with his steeds and car, had 
 just finished the course of another day ; and with words 
 of warmest love he greeted his earth-born son. 
 
 "' Dear Phaethon,' he said, 'what errand brings thee 
 hither at this hour, when the sons of men find rest in 
 slumber ? Is there any good gift that thou wouldst 
 have ? Say what it is, and it shall be thine.' 
 
 " And Phaethon wept. And he said, ' Father, there 
 are those who say that I am not thy son. Give me, 
 I pray thee, a token whereby I can prove my kinship 
 to thee.' 
 
 "And Helios answered, 'Mine it is to labor every 
 day, and short is the rest I have, that so earth's chil- 
 dren may have light and life. Yet tell me what token 
 thou cravest, and I swear that I will give it thee.' 
 
 '"Father Helios,' said the youth, 'this is the token 
 that I ask : Let me sit in thy place to-morrow, and 
 drive thy steeds along the pathway of the skies.' 
 
 "Then was the heart of Helios full sad, and he said 
 to Phaethon, ' My child, thou knowest not what thou 
 askest. Thou art not like the gods ; and there lives 
 
1 8 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 no man who can drive my steeds, or guide the sun- 
 car through the skies. I pray thee ask some other 
 boon.' 
 
 "But Phaethon would not. 
 
 " ' I will have this boon or none. I will drive thy 
 steeds to-morrow, and thereby make proof of my birth- 
 right.' 
 
 "Then Helios pleaded long with his son that he 
 would not aspire to deeds too great for weak man to 
 undertake. But wayward Phaethon would not hear. 
 And when the Dawn peeped forth, and the Hours har- 
 nessed the steeds to the car, his father sadly gave the 
 reins into his hands. 
 
 " ' My love for thee cries out, " Refrain, refrain ! " 
 Yet for my oath's sake, I grant thy wish.' 
 
 " And he hid his face, and wept. 
 
 " And Phaethon leaped into the car, and lashed the 
 steeds with his whip. Up they sprang, and swift as a 
 storm cloud they sped high into the blue vault of 
 heaven. For well did they know that an unskilled 
 hand held the reins, and proudly they scorned his 
 control. 
 
 "The haughty heart of Phaethon sank within him, 
 and all his courage failed ; and the long reins dropped 
 from his nerveless grasp. 
 
 " ' Glorious father,' he cried in agony, ' thy words 
 were true. Would that I had hearkened to thy warn- 
 ing, and obeyed ! ' 
 
 "And the sun-steeds, mad with their new-gained free- 
 
A Voyage on the Sea. 19 
 
 dom, wildly < areered in mid-heaven, and then plunged 
 downward towards the earth. Close to the peopled 
 plains they dashed and soared, dragging the car behind 
 them. The parched earth smoked ; the rivers turned 
 to vaporous clouds ; the trees shook off their scorched 
 leaves and died ; and men and beasts hid in the caves 
 and rocky clefts, and there perished with thirst and the 
 unbearable heat. 
 
 "'O Father Zeus!' prayed Mother Earth, 'send help 
 to thy children, or they perish through this man's pre- 
 sumptuous folly ! ' 
 
 " Then the Thunderer from his high seat hurled his 
 dread bolts, and unhappy Phaethon fell headlong from 
 the car ; and the fire-breathing steeds, affrighted but 
 obedient, hastened back to the pastures of Helios on 
 the shores of old Ocean's stream. 
 
 "Phaethon fell into the river which men call Eridanos, 
 and his broken-hearted sisters wept for him ; and as 
 they stood upon the banks and bewailed his unhappy 
 fate, Father Zeus in pity changed them into tall green 
 poplars ; and their tears, falling into the river, were 
 hardened into precious yellow amber. But the daugh- 
 ters of Hesperus, through whose country this rivef 
 flows, built for the fair hero a marble tomb, close by 
 the sounding sea. And they sang a song about Phae- 
 thon, and said that although he had been hurled to the 
 earth by the thunderbolts of angry Zeus, yet he died 
 not without honor, for he had his heart set on the 
 doing of great deeds." 
 
20 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 As Phemius ended his story, Odysseus, who had been 
 too intent upon listening to look around him, raised his 
 eyes and uttered a cry of joy; for he saw that they had 
 left the open sea behind them, and were entering the 
 long and narrow gulf between Achaia and the ./Etolian 
 land. The oarsmen, who, too, had been earnest listen- 
 ers, sprang quickly to their places, and hastened to ply 
 their long oars ; for now the breeze had begun to 
 slacken, and the sail hung limp and useless upon the 
 ship's mast. Keeping close to the northern shore they 
 rounded capes and headlands, and skirted the mouths 
 of deep inlets, where Phemius said strange monsters 
 often lurked in wait for unwary or belated seafarers. 
 But they passed all these places safely, and saw no 
 living creature, save some flocks of sea-birds flying 
 among the cliffs, and one lone, frightened fisherman, 
 who left his net upon the sands, and ran to hide himself 
 in the thickets of underbrush which skirted the beach. 
 
 Late in the day they came to the mouth of a little 
 harbor which, like one in Ithaca, was a favored haunt 
 of old Phorcys the elder of the sea. Here the cap- 
 tain of the oarsmen said they must tarry for the night, 
 for the sun was already sinking in the west, and after 
 nightfall no ship could be guided with safety along 
 these shores. A narrow strait between high cliffs led 
 into the little haven, which was so sheltered from the 
 winds that vessels could ride there without their haw- 
 sers, even though fierce storms might rage upon the 
 sea outside. Through this strait the ship was guided, 
 
A Voyage on the Sea. 21 
 
 urged by the strong arms of the rowers ; and so swiftly 
 did it glide across the harbor that it was driven upon 
 the shelving beach at the farther side, and stopped not 
 until it lay full half its length high upon the warm, dry 
 sand. 
 
 Then the crew lifted out their store of food, and their 
 vessels for cooking ; and while some took their bows 
 and went in search of game, others kindled a fire, and 
 hastened to make ready the evening meal. Odysseus 
 and his tutor, when they had climbed out of the ship, 
 sauntered along the beach, intent to know what kind 
 of place it was to which fortune had thus brought 
 them. They found that it was in all things a pattern 
 and counterpart of the little bay of Phorcys in their 
 own Ithaca.' 
 
 Near the head of the harbor grew an olive tree, be- 
 neath whose spreading branches there was a cave, in 
 which, men said, the Naiads sometimes dwelt. In this 
 cave were great bowls and jars and two-eared pitchers, 
 all of stone ; and in the clefts of the rock the wild bees 
 had built their comb, and filled it with yellow honey. 
 In this cave, too, were long looms on which, from their 
 spindles wrought of stone, the Naiads were thought to 
 weave their purple robes. Close by the looms, a tor- 
 rent of sweet water gushed from the rock, and flowed 
 in crystal streams down into the bay. Two doorways 
 opened into the cave : one from the north, through 
 which mortal man might enter, and one from the south, 
 
 1 See the description of this bay, in the Odyssey, Book xiii. 1. 102. 
 
22 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 kept as the pathway of Phorcys and the Naiads. But 
 Odysseus and his tutor saw no signs of any of these 
 beings : it seemed as if the place had not been visited 
 for many a month. 
 
 After the voyagers had partaken of their meal, they 
 sat for a long time around the blazing fire upon the 
 beach, and each told some marvellous story of the sea. 
 For their thoughts were all upon the wonders of the 
 deep. 
 
 "We should not speak of Poseidon, the king of 
 waters," said the captain, "save with fear upon our lips, 
 and reverence in our hearts. For he it is who rules the 
 sea, as his brother Zeus controls the land ; and no one 
 dares to dispute his right. Once, when sailing on the 
 ^Egaean Sea, I looked down into the depths, and saw his 
 lordly palace, — a glittering, golden mansion, built on 
 the rocks at the bottom of the mere. Quickly did we 
 spread our sails aloft, and the friendly breezes and our 
 own strong arms hurried us safely away from that 
 wonderful but dangerous station. In that palace of 
 the deep, Poseidon eats and drinks and makes merry 
 with his friends, the dwellers in the sea ; and there he 
 feeds and trains his swift horses, — horses with hoofs 
 of bronze and flowing golden manes. And when he 
 harnesses these steeds to his chariot, and wields above 
 them his well-wrought lash of gold, you should see, as 
 I have seen, how he rides in terrible majesty above the 
 waves. And the creatures of the sea pilot him on his 
 way. and gambol on either side of the car, and follow 
 
A Voyage on the Sea. 23 
 
 dancing in his wake. But when he smites the waters 
 with the trident which he always carries in his hand, 
 the waves roll mountain high, the lightnings flash, and 
 the thunders peal, and the earth is shaken to its very 
 core. Then it is that man bewails his own weakness, 
 and prays to the powers above for help and succor." 
 
 " I have never seen the palace of Poseidon," said the 
 helmsman, speaking slowly ; " but once, when sailing to 
 far-off Crete, our ship was overtaken by a storm, and 
 for ten days we were buffeted by winds and waves, 
 and driven into unknown seas. After this, we vainly 
 tried to find again our reckonings, but we knew not 
 which way to turn our vessel's prow. Then, when the 
 storm had ended, we saw upon a sandy islet great 
 /roops of seals and sea-calves couched upon the beach, 
 and basking in the warm rays of the sun. 
 
 " ' Let us cast anchor, and wait here,' said our cap- 
 tain ; ' for surely Proteus, the old man of the sea who 
 keeps Poseidon's herds, will come erewhile to look after 
 these sea-beasts.' 
 
 " And he was right ; for at noonday the herdsman of 
 the sea came up out of the brine, and went among his 
 sea-calves, and counted them, and called each one by 
 name. When he was sure that not even one was miss- 
 ing, he lay down among them upon the sand. Then 
 we landed quickly from our vessel, and rushed silently 
 upon him, and seized him with our hands. The old 
 master of magic tried hard to escape from our clutches, 
 and did not forget his cunning. First he took the form 
 
24 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 of a long-maned lion, fierce and terrible ; but when this 
 did not affright us, he turned into a scaly serpent ; then 
 into a leopard, spotted and beautiful ; then into a wild 
 boar, with gnashing tusks and foaming mouth. Seeing 
 that by none of these forms he could make us loosen 
 our grasp upon him, he took the shape of running 
 Water, as if to glide through our fingers ; then he be- 
 came a tall tree full of leaves and blossoms ; and, lastly, 
 he became himself again. And he pleaded with us for 
 his freedom, and promised to tell us any thing that we 
 desired, if we would only let him go. 
 
 " * Tell us which way we shall sail, and how far we 
 shall go, that we may surely reach the fair harbor of 
 Crete,' said our captain. 
 
 " ' Sail with the wind two days,' said the elder of the 
 sea, ' and on the third morning ye shall behold the hills 
 of Crete, and the pleasant port which you seek.' 
 
 " Then we loosened our hold upon him, and old Pro- 
 teus plunged into the briny deep ; and we betook our- 
 selves to our ship, and sailed away before the wind. 
 And on the third day, as he had told us, we sighted the 
 fair harbor of Crete." 
 
 As the helmsman ended his story, his listeners 
 smiled ; for he had told them nothing but an old tale, 
 which every seaman had learned in his youth, — the 
 story of Proteus, symbol of the ever-changing forms of 
 matter. Just then Odysseus heard a low, plaintive 
 murmur, seeming as if uttered by some lost wanderer 
 away out upon the sea. 
 
A Voyage on the Sea. 25 
 
 " What is that ? " he asked, turning towards Phemius. 
 
 " It is Glaucus, the soothsayer of the sea, lamenting 
 that he is mortal," answered the bard. "Long time 
 ago, Glaucus was a poor fisherman who cast his nets 
 into these very waters, and built his hut upon the .dEto- 
 lian shore, not very far from the place where we now 
 sit. Before his hut there was a green, grassy spot, 
 where he often sat to dress the fish which he caught. 
 One day he carried a basketful of half-dead fish to that 
 spot, and turned them out upon the ground. Wonder- 
 ful to behold ! Each fish took a blade of grass in its 
 mouth, and forthwith jumped into the sea. The next 
 day he found a hare in the woods, and gave chase to it. 
 The frightened creature ran straight to the grassy plat 
 before his hut, seized a green spear of grass between 
 its lips, and dashed into the sea. 
 
 " ' Strange what kind of grass that is ! ' cried Glau- 
 cus. Then he pulled up a blade, and tasted it. Quick 
 as thought, he also jumped into the sea; and there he 
 wanders evermore among the seaweeds and the sand 
 and the pebbles and the sunken rocks ; and, although 
 he has the gift of soothsaying, and can tell what things 
 are in store for mortal men, he mourns and laments 
 because he cannot die." 
 
 Then Phemius, seeing that Odysseus grew tired of 
 his story, took up his harp, and touched its strings, and 
 sang a song about old Phorcys, — the son of the Sea 
 and Mother Earth, — and about his strange daughters 
 who dwell in regions far remote from the homes of men. 
 
26 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 He touched his harp lightly, and sang a sweet lullaby, 
 — a song about the Sirens, the fairest of all the daugh- 
 ters of old Phorcys. These have their home in an 
 enchanted island in the midst of the western sea ; and 
 they sit in a green meadow by the shore, and they 
 sing evermore of empty pleasures and of phantoms 
 of delight and of vain expectations. And woe is 
 the wayfaring man who hearkens to them ! for by 
 their bewitching tones they lure him to his death, 
 and never again shall he see his dear wife or his 
 babes, who wait long and vainly for his home-coming. 
 Stop thine ears, O voyager on the sea, and listen not 
 to the songs of the Sirens, sing they ever so sweetly ; 
 for the white flowers which dot the meadow around 
 them are not daisies, but the bleached bones of their 
 victims. 
 
 Then Phemius smote the chords of his harp, and 
 played a melody so weird and wild that Odysseus 
 sprang to his feet, and glanced quickly around him, as 
 if he thought to see some grim and horrid shape threat- 
 ening him from among the gathering shadows. And 
 this time the bard sang a strange, tumultuous song, 
 concerning other daughters of old Phorcys, — the three 
 Gray Sisters, with shape of swan, who have but one 
 tooth for all, and one common eye, and who sit forever 
 on a barren rock near the farthest shore of Ocean's 
 stream. Upon them the sun doth never cast a beam, 
 and the moon doth never look ; but, horrible and alone, 
 they sit clothed in their yellow robes, and chatter 
 
A Voyage on th^ £>ea. 27 
 
 threats and meaningless complaints to the waves which 
 dash against their rock. 
 
 Not far away from these monsters once sat the three 
 Gorgons, daughters also of old Phorcys. These were 
 clothed with bat -like wings, and horror sat upon their 
 faces. They had ringlets of snakes for hair, and their 
 teeth were like the tusks of swine, and their hands were 
 talons of brass ; and no mortal could ever gaze upon 
 them and breathe again. But there came, one time, a 
 young hero to those regions, — Perseus the godlike ; 
 and he snatched the eye of the three Gray Sisters, and 
 flung it far into the depths of Lake Tritonis ; and he 
 slew Medusa, the most fearful of the Gorgons, and car- 
 ried the head of the terror back to Hellas with him as 
 a trophy. 
 
 The bard chose next a gentler theme : and, as he 
 touched his harp, the listeners fancied that they heard 
 the soft sighing of the south wind, stirring lazily the 
 leaves and blossoms ; they heard the plashing of foun- 
 tains, and the rippling of water-brooks, and the songs 
 of little birds ; and their minds were carried away in 
 memory to pleasant gardens in a summer land. And 
 Phemius sang of the Hesperides, or the maidens of the 
 West, who also, men say, are the daughters of Phorcys 
 the ancient. The Hesperian land in which they dwell 
 is a country of delight, where the trees are laden with 
 golden fruit, and every day is a sweet dream of joy and 
 peace. And the clear-voiced Hesperides sing and dance 
 in the sunlight always ; and their only task is to guard 
 
28 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 the golden apples which grow there, and which Mother 
 Earth gave to Here the queen upon her wedding day. 
 
 Here Phemius paused. Odysseus, lulled by the soft 
 music, and overcome by weariness, had lain down upon 
 the sand and fallen asleep. At a sign from the bard, 
 the seamen lifted him gently into the ship, and, cover- 
 ing him with warm skins, they left him to slumber 
 through the night. 
 
ADVENTURE III. 
 
 THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH. 
 
 The next morning, before the sun had risen, the 
 voyagers launched their ship again, and sailed out of 
 the little harbor into the long bay of Crissa. And 
 Pallas Athene sent the west wind early, to help them 
 forward on their way ; and they spread their sail, and 
 instead of longer hugging the shore, they ventured 
 boldly out into the middle of the bay. All day long 
 the ship held on its course, skimming swiftly through 
 the waves like a great white-winged bird ; and those 
 on board beguiled the hours with song and story as on 
 the day before. But when the evening came, they 
 were far from land ; and the captain said that as the 
 water was deep, and he knew the sea quite well, they 
 would not put into port, but would sail straight on all 
 night. And so, when the sun had gone down, and the 
 moon had risen, flooding earth and sea with her pure, 
 soft light, Odysseus wrapped his warm cloak about 
 him, and lay down again to rest upon his bed of skins 
 between the rowers' benches. But the helmsman stood 
 at his place, and guided the vessel over the shadowy 
 
 29 
 
30 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 waves ; and through the watches of the night the 
 west wind filled the sails, and the dark keel of the little 
 bark ploughed the waters, and Pallas Athene blessed 
 the voyage. 
 
 When, at langth, the third morning came, and Helios 
 arose at summons of the Dawn, Odysseus awoke. To 
 his great surprise, he heard no longer the rippling of 
 the waves upon the vessel's sides, nor the flapping 
 of the sail in the wind, nor yet the rhythmic dipping of 
 the oars into the sea. He listened, and the sound 
 of merry laughter came to his ears, and he heard the 
 twittering of many birds, and the far-away bleating of 
 little lambs. He rubbed his eyes, and sat up, and 
 looked about him. The ship was no longer floating on 
 the water, but had been drawn high up on a sandy 
 beach ; and the crew were sitting beneath an olive 
 tree, at no great distance from the shore, listening to 
 the melodies with which a strangely-garbed shepherd 
 welcomed on his flute the coming of another day. 
 
 Odysseus arose quickly and leaped out upon the 
 beach. Then it was that a scene of beauty and quiet 
 grandeur met his gaze, — a scene, the like of which had 
 never entered his thoughts nor visited his dreams. He 
 saw, a few miles to the northward, a group of high 
 mountains whose summits towered above the clouds ; 
 and highest among them all were twin peaks whose 
 snow-crowned tops seemed but little lower than the 
 skies themselves. And as the light of the newly risen 
 sun gilded the gray crags, and painted the rocky slop©*, 
 
The Centre of the Earth. 3 1 
 
 and shone bright among the wooded uplands, the whole 
 scene appeared like a living picture, glorious with purple 
 and gold and azure, and brilliant with sparkling gems. 
 
 " Is it not truly a fitting place for the home of beauty 
 and music, the dwelling of Apollo, and the favored 
 haunt of the Muses ? " asked Phemius, drawing near, 
 and observing the boy's wondering delight. 
 
 "Indeed it is," said Odysseus, afraid to turn his eyes 
 away, lest the enchanting vision should vanish like a 
 dream. " But is that mountain really Parnassus, and 
 is our journey so nearly at an end ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered the bard, " that peak which towers 
 highest toward the sky is great Parnassus, the centre 
 of the earth ; and in the rocky cleft which you can 
 barely see between the twin mountains, stands sacred 
 Delphi and the favored temple of Apollo. Lower down, 
 and on the other side of the mountain, is the white- 
 hailed dwelling of old Autolycus, your mother's father. 
 Although the mountain seems so near, it is yet a long 
 and toilsome journey thither, — a journey which we 
 must make on foot, and by pathways none the safest. 
 Come, let us join the sailors under the olive tree ; and 
 when we have breakfasted, we will begin our journey 
 to Parnassus." 
 
 The strange shepherd had killed the fattest sheep 
 of his flock, and had roasted the choicest parts upon 
 a bed of burning coals ; and when Odysseus and his 
 tutor came to the olive tree, they found a breakfast fit 
 indeed for kings, set out ready before them. 
 
32 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 "Welcome, noble strangers," said the shepherd; 
 "welcome to the land most loved of the Muses. I 
 give you of the best of all that I have, and I am ready 
 to serve you and do your bidding." 
 
 Phemius thanked the shepherd for his kindness ; and 
 while they sat upon the grass, and ate of the pleasant 
 food which had been provided, he asked the simple 
 swain many questions about Parnassus. 
 
 " I have heard that Parnassus is the hub around which 
 the great earth-wheel is built. Is it really true ? " 
 
 " A long, long time ago," answered the man, " there 
 were neither any shepherds nor sheep in Hellas, and 
 not even the gods knew where the centre of the earth 
 had been put. Some said that it was at Mount Olym- 
 pus, where Zeus sits in his great house with all the 
 deathless ones around him. Others said that it was 
 in Achaia ; and others still, in Arcadia, now the land 
 of shepherds ; and some, who, it seems to me, had lost 
 their wits, said that it was not in Hellas at all, but in 
 a strange land beyond the western sea. In order that 
 he might know the truth, great Zeus one day took two 
 eagles, both of the same strength and swiftness, and 
 said, 'These birds shall tell us what even the gods 
 do not know.' Then he carried one of the eagles to 
 the far east, where the Dawn rises out of Ocean's 
 bed ; and he carried the other to the far west where 
 Helios and his sun-car sink into the waves ; and he 
 clapped his hands together, and the thunder rolled, and 
 the swift birds flew at the same moment to meet each 
 
The Centre of the Earth. 33 
 
 other ; and right above the spot where Delphi stands, 
 they came together, beak to beak, and both fell dead 
 to the ground. ' Behold ! there is the centre of the 
 earth,' said Zeus. And all the gods agreed that he 
 was right." 
 
 "Do you know the best and shortest road to Delphi?" 
 asked Phemius. 
 
 "No one knows it better than I," was the answer. 
 "When I was a boy I fed my sheep at the foot of 
 Parnassus ; and my father and grandfather lived there, 
 long before the town of Delphi was built, or there was 
 any temple there for Apollo. Shall I tell you how men 
 came to build a temple at that spot ? " 
 
 " Yes, tell us," said Odysseus. " I am anxious to 
 know all about it." 
 
 "You must not repeat my story to the priests at 
 Delphi," said the shepherd, speaking now in a lower 
 tone. " For they have quite a different way of telling 
 it, and they would say that I have spoken lightly of 
 sacred things. There was a time when only shepherds 
 lived on the mountain slopes, and there were neither 
 priests nor warriors nor robbers in all this land. My 
 grandfather was one of those happy shepherds ; and he 
 often pastured his flocks on the broad terrace where the 
 town ot Delphi now stands, and where the two eagles, 
 which I have told you about, fell to the ground. One 
 day, a strange thing happened to him. A goat which 
 was nibbling the grass from the sides of a little crevice 
 in the rock, fell into a fit, and lay bleating and helpless 
 
34 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 upon the ground. My grandfather ran to help the 
 beast ; but as he stooped down, he too fell into a fit, 
 and he saw strange visions, and spoke prophetic words. 
 Some other shepherds who were passing by saw his 
 plight, and lifted him up ; and as soon as he breathed 
 the fresh air, he was himself again. 
 
 "Often after this, the same thing happened to my 
 grandfather's goats ; and when he had looked carefully 
 into the matter, he found that a warm, stifling vapo, 
 issued at times from the crevice, and that it was the 
 breathing of this vapor which had caused his goats and 
 even himself to lose their senses. T^en other men 
 came ; and the} learned that by sitting close to the 
 crevice, and inhaling its vapor, they gained the power 
 to foresee things, and the gift of prophecy came to 
 them. And so they set a tripod over the crevice for a 
 seat, and they built a temple — small at first — over the 
 tripod ; and they sent for the wisest maidens in the 
 land to come and sit upon the tripod and breathe 
 the strange vapor, so that they could tell what was 
 otherwise hidden from human knowledge. Some say 
 that the vapor is the breath of a python, or great ser- 
 pent ; and they call the priestess who sits upon the 
 tripod Pythia. But I know nothing about that." 
 
 "Are you sure," asked Phemius, "that it was your 
 grandfather who first found that crevice in the rock ? " 
 
 "I am not quite sure," said the shepherd. "But I 
 heard the story when I was a little child, and I know 
 that it was either my grandfather or my grandfather's 
 
The Centre of the Earth. 35 
 
 grandfather. At any rate, it all happened many, many 
 years ago." 
 
 By this time they had finished their meal ; and after 
 they had given thanks to the powers who had thus far 
 kindly prospered them, they hastened to renew their 
 journey. Two of the oarsmen, who were landsmen as 
 well as seamen, were to go with them to carry their 
 luggage and the little presents which Laertes had sent 
 to the priests at Delphi. The shepherd was to be their 
 guide ; and a second shepherd was to keep them com- 
 pany, so as to help them in case of need. 
 
 The sun was high over their heads when they were 
 ready to begin their long and toilsome walk. The road 
 at first was smooth and easy, wind;ng through meadows 
 and orchards and shady pastures But very soon the 
 way became steep and uneven, and the olive trees gave 
 place to pines, and the meadows to barren rocks. The 
 little company toiled bravely onward, however, the two 
 shepherds leading the way and cheering them with 
 pleasant melodies on their flutes, while the two sailors 
 with their heavy loads followed in the rear. 
 
 It was quite late in the day v^en they reached the 
 sacred town of Delphi, nestling in the very bosom of 
 Parnassus. The mighty mountain wall now rose straight 
 up before them, seeming to reach even to the clouds. 
 The priests who kept the temple met them on the out- 
 skirts of the town, and kindly welcomed them for the 
 sake of King Laertes, whom tiey knew and had seen ; 
 and they besought the wayfarers to abide for some tim* 
 
36 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 in Delphi. Nor, indeed, would Phemius have thought 
 of going farther until he had prayed to bright Apollo, 
 and offered rich gifts at his shrine, and questioned the 
 Pythian priestess about the unknown future. 
 
 And so Odysseus and his tutor became the honored 
 guests of the Delphian folk ; and they felt that surely 
 they were now at the very centre of the world. Their 
 hosts dealt so kindly with them, that a whole month 
 passed, and still they were in Delphi. And as they 
 talked with the priests in the temple, or listened to the 
 music of the mountain nymphs, or drank sweet draughts 
 of wisdom from the Castalian spring, they every day 
 found it harder and harder to tear themselves away 
 from the delightful place 
 
ADVENTURE IV. 
 
 THE SILVER-BOWED APOLLO. 
 
 One morning Odysseus sat in the shadow of Parnas- 
 sus with one of the priests of Apollo, and they talked 
 of many wonderful things ; and the boy began to think 
 to himself that there was more wisdom in the words of 
 his companion than in all the waters of the Castalian 
 spring. He could see, from where he sat, the stream 
 of that far-famed fountain, flowing out of the rocks be- 
 tween two cliffs, and falling in sparkling cascades down 
 the steep slopes. 
 
 " Men think that they gain wisdom by drinking from 
 that spring," said he to the priest ; " but I think that 
 they gain it in quite another way. They drink of its 
 waters every day ; but while they drink, they listen to 
 the wonderful words which fall from your lips, and they 
 become wise by hearing, and not by drinking." 
 
 The old priest smiled at the shrewdness of the boy. 
 " Let them think as they please," said he. " In any 
 case, their wisdom would come hard, and be of little 
 use, if it were not for the silver-bowed Apollo." 
 
 "Tell me about Apollo," said Odysseus. 
 
 37 
 
38 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 The priest could not have been better pleased. He 
 moved his seat, so that he could look the boy full in the 
 face, and at the same time have the temple before him, 
 and then he began : — 
 
 "A very long time ago, Apollo was born in distant 
 Delos. And when the glad news of his birth was told, 
 Earth smiled, and decked herself with flowers ; the 
 nymphs of Delos sang songs of joy that were heard 
 to the utmost bounds of Hellas ; and choirs of white 
 swans flew seven times around the island, piping notes 
 of praise to the pure being who had come to dwell 
 among men. Then Zeus looked down from high Olym- 
 pus, and crowned the babe with a golden head-band, 
 and put into his hands a silver bow and a sweet-toned 
 lyre such as no man had ever seen ; and he gave him a 
 team of white swans to drive, and bade him go forth to 
 teach men the things which are right and good, and 
 to make light that which is hidden and in darkness. 
 
 "And so Apollo arose, beautiful as the morning sun, 
 and journeyed through many lands, seeking a dwelling- 
 place. He stopped for a time at the foot of Mount 
 Olympus, and played so sweetly upon his lyre that Zeus 
 and all his court were entranced. Then he went into 
 Pieria and Iolcos, and he wandered up and down through 
 the whole length of the Thessalian land ; but nowhere 
 could he find a spot in which he was willing to dwell. 
 Then he climbed into his car, and bade his swan-team 
 fly with him to the country of the Hyperboreans beyond 
 
The Silver- Bowed Apollo. 39 
 
 the far-off northern mountains. Forthwith they obeyed ; 
 and through the pure regions of the upper air they bore 
 him, winging their way ever northward. They carried 
 him over the desert flats where the shepherd folk of 
 Scythia dwell in houses of wicker-work perched on well- 
 wheeled wagons, and daily drive their flocks and herds 
 to fresher pastures. They carried him over that un- 
 known land where the Arimaspian host of one-eyed 
 horsemen dwell beside a river running bright with gold ; 
 and on the seventh day they came to the great Rhi- 
 paean Mountains where the griffins, with lion bodies and 
 eagle wings, guard the golden treasures of the North. 
 In these mountains, the North Wind has his home ; and 
 from his deep caves he now and then comes forth, chill- 
 ing with his cold and angry breath the orchards and the 
 fair fields of Hellas, and bringing death and dire disas- 
 ters in his train. But northward this blustering Boreas 
 cannot blow, for the heaven-towering mountains stand 
 like a wall against him, and drive him back ; and hence 
 it is that beyond these mountains the storms of winter 
 never come, but one happy springtime runs through 
 all the year. There the flowers bloom, and the grain 
 ripens, and the fruits drop mellowing to the earth, and 
 the red wine is pressed from the luscious grape, every 
 day the same. And the Hyperboreans who dwell in 
 that favored land know neither pain nor sickness, nor 
 wearying labor nor eating care ; but their youth is as 
 unfading as the springtime, and old age with its wrin- 
 kles and its sorrows is evermore a stranger to them. 
 
40 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 For the spirit of evil, which leads all men to err, 
 has never found entrance among them, and they are 
 free from vile passions and unworthy thoughts ; and 
 among them there is neither war, nor wicked deeds, 
 nor fear of the avenging Furies, for their hearts are 
 pure and clean, and never burdened with the love of 
 self. 
 
 "When the swan-team of silver-bowed Apollo had 
 carried him over the Rhipaean Mountains, they alighted 
 in the Hyperborean land. And the people welcomed 
 Apollo with shouts of joy and songs of triumph, as one 
 for whom they had long been waiting. And he took up 
 his abode there, and dwelt with them one whole year, 
 delighting them with his presence, and ruling over them 
 as their king. But when twelve moons had passed, he 
 bethought him that the toiling, suffering men of Hellas 
 needed most his aid and care. Therefore he bade the 
 Hyperboreans farewell, and again went up into his 
 sun-bright car ; and his winged team carried him back 
 to the land of his birth. 
 
 " Long time Apollo sought a place where he might 
 build a temple to which men might come to learn of 
 him and to seek his help in time of need. At length 
 he came to the plain of fair Tilphussa, by the shore of 
 Lake Copais ; and there he began to build a house, for 
 the land was a pleasant one, well-watered, and rich in 
 grain and fruit. But the nymph Tilphussa liked not 
 to have Apollo dwell so near her, lest men seeing and 
 loving him should forget to honor her ; and one day 
 
The Silver -Bowed Apollo. 41 
 
 garmented with mosses and crowned with lilies, she 
 came and stood before him in the sunlight. 
 
 " ' Apollo of the silver bow,' said she, ' have you not 
 made a mistake in choosing this place for a dwelling ? 
 These rich plains around us will not always be as 
 peaceful as now ; for their very richness will tempt the 
 spoiler, and the song of the cicada will then give place 
 to the din of battle. Even in times of peace, you would 
 hardly have a quiet hour here : for great herds of cattle 
 come crowding down every day to my lake for water ; 
 and the noisy ploughman, driving his team afield, dis- 
 turbs the morning hour with his boorish shouts ; and 
 boys and dogs keep up a constant din, and make life 
 in this place a burden.' 
 
 " ' Fair Tilphussa,' said Apollo, ' I had hoped to 
 dwell here in thy happy vale, a neighbor and friend 
 to thee. Yet, since this place is not what it seems to 
 be, whither shall I go, and where shall I build my 
 house ? " 
 
 " ' Go to the cleft in Parnassus where the swift eagles 
 of Zeus met above the earth's centre,' answered the 
 nymph. ' There thou canst dwell in peace, and men 
 will come from all parts of the world to do thee honor.' 
 
 "And so Apollo came down towards Crissa, and here 
 in the cleft of the mountain he laid the foundations 
 of his shrine. Then he called the master-architects of 
 the world, Trophonius and Agamedes, and gave to them 
 the building of the high walls and the massive roof. 
 And when they had finished their work, he said, ' Say 
 
42 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 now what reward you most desire for your labor, and 
 I will give it you.' 
 
 "'Give us,' said the brothers, 'that which is the 
 best for men.' 
 
 " ' It is well,' answered Apollo. 'When the full moon 
 is seen above the mountain-tops, you shall have your 
 wish.' 
 
 " But when the moon rose full and clear above the 
 heights, the two brothers were dead. 
 
 "And Apollo was pleased with the place which he had 
 chosen for a home ; for here were peace and quiet, and 
 neither the hum of labor nor the din of battle would 
 be likely ever to enter. Yet there was one thing to be 
 done before he could have perfect rest. There lived 
 near the foot of the mountain a huge serpent called 
 Python, which was the terror of all the land. Often- 
 times, coming out of his den, this monster attacked the 
 flocks and herds, and sometimes even their keepers ; 
 and he had been known to carry little children and 
 helpless women to his den, and there devour them. 
 
 "The men of Delphi came one day to Apollo, and 
 prayed him to drive out or destroy their terrible enemy. 
 So, taking in hand his silver bow, he sallied out at 
 break of day to meet the monster when he shou'd issue 
 from his slimy cave. The vile creature shrank back 
 when he saw the radiant god before him, and would 
 fain have hidden himself in the deep gorges of the 
 mountain. But Apollo quickly launched a swift arrow 
 at him, crying, ' Thou bane of man, lie thou upon the 
 
APOLLO SLAYING THE PYTHON. 
 
The Silver-Bowed Apollo. 43 
 
 earth, and enrich it with thy dead body ! ' And the 
 never-erring arrow sped to the mark ; and the great 
 beast died, wallowing in his gore. And the people in 
 their joy came out to meet the archer, singing paeans 
 \in his praise ; and they crowned him with wild flowers 
 and wreaths of olives, and hailed him as the Pythian 
 king ; and the nightingales sang to him in the groves, 
 and the swallows and cicadas twittered and tuned 
 their melodies in harmony with his lyre. 1 
 
 "But as yet there were no priests in Apollo's temple; 
 and he pondered, long doubting, as to whom he should 
 choose. One day he stood upon the mountain's top- 
 most peak, whence he could see all Hellas and the seas 
 around it. Far away in the south, he spied a little ship 
 sailing from Crete to sandy Pylos ; and the men who 
 were on board were Cretan merchants. 
 
 " ' These men shall serve in my temple ! ' he cried. 
 
 "Upward he sprang, and high he soared above the 
 sea ; then swiftly descending like a fiery star, he 
 plunged into the waves. There he changed himself 
 into the form of a dolphin, and swam with speed to 
 overtake the vessel. Long before the ship had reached 
 Pylos, the mighty fish came up with it, and struck its 
 stern. The crew were dumb with terror, and sat still 
 in their places; their oars were motionless; the sail 
 hung limp and useless from the mast. Yet the vessel 
 sped through the waves with the speed of the wind, 
 for the dolphin was driving it forward by the force of 
 
 1 See Note 2 at the end of this volume. 
 
44 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 — .■■■-■- - - . . ... — i — i. ■ ■ — . — ... .i ■■ . — — ^— 
 
 his fins. Past many a headland, past Pylos and many 
 pleasant harbors, they hastened. Vainly did the pilot 
 try to land at Cyparissa and at Cyllene : the ship would 
 not obey her helm. They rounded the headland of 
 Araxus, and came into the long bay of Crissa ; and 
 there the dolphin left off guiding the vessel, and swam 
 playfully around it, while a brisk west wind filled the 
 sail, and bore the voyagers safely into port. 
 
 "Then the dolphin changed into the form of a glowing 
 star, which, shooting high into the heavens, lit up the 
 whole world with its glory; and as the awe-stricken 
 crew stood gazing at the wonder, it fell with the quick- 
 ness of light upon Parnassus. Into his temple Apollo 
 hastened, and there he kindled an undying fire. Then, 
 in the form of a handsome youth, with golden hair fall 
 ing in waves upon his shoulders, he hastened to the 
 beach to welcome the Cretan strangers. 
 
 " ' Hail, seamen ! ' he cried. ' Who are you, and from 
 whence do you come ? Shall I greet you as friends 
 and guests, or shall I know you as robbers bringing 
 death and distress to many a fair home ? ' 
 
 "Then answered the Cretan captain, ' Fair stranger, 
 the gods have brought us hither ; for by no wish of our 
 own have we come. We are Cretan merchants, and we 
 were on our way to sandy Pylos with stores of mer- 
 chandise, to barter with the tradesmen of that city. 
 But some unknown being, whose might is greater than 
 the might of men, has carried us far beyond our wished- 
 for port, even to this unknown shore. Tell us now, we 
 
The Silver-Bowed Apollo. 45 
 
 pray thee, what land is this ? And who art thou who 
 lookest so like a god ? ' 
 
 " ' Friends and guests, for such indeed you must be,* 
 answered the radiant youth, ' think never again of sail- 
 ing upon the wine-faced sea, but draw now your vessel 
 high up on the beach. And when you have brought 
 out all your goods, and built an altar upon the shore, 
 take of your white barley which you have with you, and 
 offer it reverently to Phcebus Apollo. For I am he ; 
 and it was I who brought you hither, so that you might 
 keep my temple, and make known my wishes unto men. 
 And since it was in the form of a dolphin that you first 
 saw me, let the town which stands around my temple 
 be known as Delphi, and let men worship me there as 
 Apollo Delphinius.' 
 
 " Then the Cretans did as he had bidden them : they 
 drew their vessel high up on the white beach, and 
 when they had unladen it of their goods, they built an 
 altar on the shore, and offered white barley to Phoebus 
 Apollo, and gave thanks to the ever-living powers who 
 had saved them from the terrors of the deep. And 
 after they had feasted, and rested from their long 
 voyage, they turned their faces toward Parnassus ; and 
 Apollo, playing sweeter music than men had ever 
 heard, led the way ; and the folk of Delphi, with choirs 
 of boys and maidens, came to meet them, and they 
 sang a paean and songs of victory as they helped 
 the Cretans up the steep pathway to the cleft oi 
 Parnassus. 
 
46 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 , 
 
 " ' I leave you now to have sole care of my temple,' 
 aaid Apollo. ' I charge you to keep it well ; deal right- 
 eously with all men ; let no unclean thing pass your 
 lips ; forget self ; guard well your thoughts, and keep 
 your hearts free from guile. If you do these things, 
 you shall be blessed with length of days and all that 
 makes life glad. But if you forget my words ; and deal 
 treacherously with men, and cause any to wander from 
 the path of right, then shall you be driven forth home- 
 less and accursed, and others shall take your places in 
 the service of my house.' 
 
 "And then the bright youth left them and hastened 
 away into Thessaly and to Mount Olympus. But every 
 year he comes again, and looks into his house, and 
 speaks words of warning and of hope to his servants ; 
 and often men have seen him on Parnassus, playing his 
 lyre to the listening Muses, or with his sister, arrow- 
 loving Artemis, chasing the mountain deer." 
 
 Such was the story which the old priest related to 
 Odysseus, sitting in the shadow of the mountain ; and 
 the boy listened with eyes wide open and full of won- 
 der, half expecting to see the golden-haired Apollo 
 standing by his side. 
 
ADVENTURE K 
 
 THE KING OF CATTLE THIEVES. 
 
 Odysseus and his tutor tarried, as I have told you, a 
 whole month at Delphi ; for Phemius would not venture 
 farther on their journey until the Pythian oracle should 
 tell him how it would end. In the mean while many 
 strangers were daily coming from all parts of Hellas, 
 bringing rich gifts for Apollo's temple, and seeking 
 advice from the Pythia. From these strangers Odys- 
 seus learned many things concerning lands and places 
 of which he never before had heard ; and nothing 
 pleased him better than to listen to the marvellous 
 tales which each man told about his own home and 
 people. 
 
 One day as he was walking towards the spring of 
 Castalia, an old man, who had come from Corinth to 
 ask questions of the Pythia, met him, and stopped 
 to talk with him. 
 
 "Young prince," said the old man, "what business 
 can bring one so young as you to this place sacred to 
 Apollo ? " 
 
 " I am on my way to visit my grandfather," said 
 
 At 
 
48 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 Odysseus, "and I have stopped here for a few days 
 while my tutor consults the oracle." 
 
 " Your grandfather ! And who is your grandfather ? " 
 asked the old man. 
 
 " The great chief Autolycus, whose halls are on the 
 other side of Parnassus," answered Odysseus. 
 
 The old man drew a long breath, and after a 
 moment's silence said, " Perhaps, then, you are going 
 to help your grandfather take care of his neighbors' 
 cattle." 
 
 " I do not know what you mean," answered Odysseus, 
 startled by the tone in which the stranger spoke these 
 words. 
 
 " I mean that your grandfather, who is the most 
 cunning of men, will expect to teach you his trade," 
 said the man, with a strange twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " My grandfather is a chieftain and a hero," said the 
 boy. "What trade has he ? " 
 
 "You pretend not to know that he is a cattle- 
 dealer," answered the old man, shrugging his shoul- 
 ders. " Why, all Hellas has known him these hundred 
 years as the King of Cattle Thieves ! But he is very 
 old now, and the herdsmen and shepherds have little 
 to fear from him any more. Yet, mind my words, 
 young prince : it does not require the wisdom of the 
 Pythian oracle to foretell that you, his grandson, will 
 become the craftiest of men. With Autolycus for 
 your grandfather and Hermes for your great-grand- 
 father, it would be hard indeed for you to be otherwise.'" 
 
The King of Cattle Thieves. 49 
 
 At this moment the bard Phemius came up, and the 
 old man walked quickly away. 
 
 "What does he mean ?" asked Odysseus, turning to 
 his tutor. " What does he mean by saying that my 
 grandfather is the king of cattle thieves, and by speak* 
 ing of Hermes as my great-grandfather ? " 
 
 " They tell strange tales about Autolycus, the moun- 
 tain chief," Phemius answered ; " but whether their 
 stories be true or false, I cannot say. The old man 
 who was talking to you is from Corinth, where once 
 reigned Sisyphus, a most cruel and crafty king. From 
 Corinth, Sisyphus sent ships and traders to all the 
 world ; and the wealth of Hellas might have been his, 
 had he but loved the truth and dealt justly with his 
 fellow-men. But there was no honor in his soul ; he 
 betrayed his dearest friends for gold ; and he crushed 
 under a huge block of stone the strangers who came to 
 Corinth to barter their merchandise. It is said, that, 
 once upon a time, Autolycus went down to Corinth in 
 the night, and carried away all the cattle of Sisyphus, 
 driving them to his great pastures beyond Parnassus. 
 Not long afterward, Sisyphus went boldly to your 
 grandfather's halls, and said, — 
 
 " ' I have come, Autolycus, to get again my cattle 
 which you have been so kindly pasturing.' 
 
 " • It is well,' said Autolycus. ' Go now among my 
 herds, and if you find any cattle bearing your mark 
 upon them, they are yours : drive them back to your 
 own pastures. This is the offer which I make to 
 
5<3 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 every man who comes claiming that I have stolen his 
 cattle.' 
 
 "Then Sisyphus, to your grandfather's great sur- 
 prise, went among the herds, and chose his own without 
 making a single error. 
 
 " ' See you not my initial, 2, under the hoof of each 
 of these beasts ? ' asked Sisyphus. 
 
 " Autolycus saw at once that he had been outwitted, 
 and he fain would have made friends with one who was 
 more crafty than himself. But Sisyphus dealt treach- 
 erously with him, as he did with every one who trusted 
 him. Yet men say, that, now he is dead, he has his 
 reward in Hades ; for there he is doomed to the never- 
 ending toil of heaving a heavy stone to the top of a 
 hill, only to see it roll back again to the plain.' It was 
 from him that men learned to call your grandfather the 
 King of Cattle Thieves ; with how much justice, you 
 may judge for yourself." 
 
 " You have explained a part of what I asked you," 
 said Odysseus thoughtfully, "but you have not an- 
 swered my question about Hermes." 
 
 " I will answer that at another time," said Phemius ; 
 "for to-morrow we must renew our journey, and I must 
 go now and put every thing in readiness." 2 
 
 " But has the oracle spoken ? " asked Odysseus in 
 surprise. 
 
 "The Pythia has answered my question," said the 
 
 * See Note 3 at the end of this volume. 
 8 See Note 4 at the end of this volume. 
 
The King of Cattle Thieves. 51 
 
 bard. "I asked what fortune should attend you on 
 this journey, and the oracle made this reply : — 
 
 4 To home and kindred he shall safe return e'er long, 
 With scars well-won, and greeted with triumphal song.' " 
 
 "What does it mean ? " asked Odysseus. 
 
 "Just what it says," answered the bard. "All that 
 is now needed is that we should do our part, and for- 
 tune will surely smile upon us." 
 
 And so, on the morrow, they bade their kind hosts 
 farewell, and began to climb the steep pathway, which, 
 they were told, led up and around to the rock-built 
 halls of Autolycus. At the top of the first slope they 
 came upon a broad table-land from the centre of which 
 rose the peak of Parnassus towering to the skies. 
 Around the base of this peak, huge rocks were piled, 
 one above the other, just as they had been thrown in 
 the days of old from the mighty hands of the Titans. 
 On every side were clefts and chasms and deep gorges, 
 through which flowed roaring torrents fed from the 
 melting snows above. And in the sides of the cliffs 
 were dark caves and narrow grottos, hollowed from 
 the solid rock, wherein strange creatures were said to 
 dwell. 
 
 Now and then Odysseus fancied that he saw a 
 mountain nymph flitting among the trees, or a satyr 
 with shaggy beard hastily hiding himself among the 
 clefts and crags above them. They passed by the 
 great Corycian cavern, whose huge vaulted chambers 
 
52 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 would shelter a thousand men ; but they looked in vain 
 for the nymph Corycia, who, they were told, sometimes 
 sat within, and smiled upon passing travellers. A little 
 farther beyond, they heard the mellow notes of a lyre, 
 and the sound of laughter and merry-making, in a grove 
 of evergreens, lower down the mountain-side ; and 
 Odysseus wondered if Apollo and the Muses were not 
 there. 
 
 The path which the little company followed did not 
 lead to the summit of the peak, but wound around its 
 base, and then, by many a zigzag, led downward to a 
 wooded glen through the middle of which a mountain 
 torrent rushed. By and by the glen widened into a 
 pleasant valley, broad and green, bounded on three 
 sides by steep mountain walls. Here were rich pas- 
 ture-lands, and a meadow, in which Odysseus saw 
 thousands of cattle grazing. The guide told them that 
 those were the pastures and the cattle of great Autoly- 
 cus. Close to the bank of the mountain torrent, — just 
 where it leaped from a precipice, and, forgetting its 
 wild hurry, was changed to a quiet meadow brook, — 
 stood the dwelling of the chief. It was large and low, 
 and had been hewn out of the solid rock ; it looked 
 more like the entrance to a mountain cave than like the 
 palace of a king. 
 
 Odysseus and his tutor walked boldly into the great 
 hall ; for the low doorway was open and unguarded, 
 etnd the following words were roughly carved in the 
 rock above : " Here lives Autolycus. If your heart 
 
The King of Cattle Thieves. 53 
 
 is brave, enter." They passed through the entrance- 
 hall, and came to a smaller inner chamber. There 
 they saw Autolycus seated in a chair of ivory and 
 gold, thick-cushioned with furs ; and near him sat fair 
 Amphithea his wife, busy with her spindle and distaff. 
 The chief was very old ; his white hair fell in waves 
 upon his great shoulders, and his broad brow was 
 wrinkled with age : yet his frame was that of a giant, 
 and his eyes glowed and sparkled with the fire of 
 youth. 
 
 "Strangers," said he kindly, "you are welcome to 
 my halls. It is not often that men visit me in my 
 mountain home, and old age has bound me here in 
 my chair so that I can no longer walk abroad among 
 my fellows. Besides this, there are those who of latt 
 speak many unkind words of me ; and good men care 
 not to be the guests of him who is called the King 
 of Cattle Thieves." Then seeing that his visitors still 
 lingered at the door, he added, " I pray you, whoever 
 you may be, fear not, but enter, and be assured of a 
 kind welcome." 
 
 Then Odysseus went fearlessly forward, and stood 
 before the chief, and made himself known, and showed 
 them the presents which his mother Anticleia had 
 sent. Glad indeed was the heart of old Autolycus a? 
 he grasped the hand of his grandson ; and Amphithea 
 took the lad in her arms, and kissed his brow and both 
 his eyes, and wept for very fulness of joy. Then, at a 
 call from the old chief, an inner dooi was opened, and 
 
54 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 his six sons came in. Stalwart men were they, with 
 limbs strong as iron, and eyes like those of the moun- 
 tain eagle ; and they warmly welcomed the young 
 prince, and asked him a thousand questions about his 
 home in Ithaca, and his queen-mother, their sister 
 Anticleia. 
 
 " Waste not the hours in talk ! " cried old Autolycus 
 at last. " There is yet another day for words. Make 
 ready at once a fitting feast for this my grandson and 
 his friend the bard ; and let our halls ring loud with 
 joyful merriment." 
 
 The sons at once obeyed. From the herd which was 
 pasturing in the meadows, they chose the fattest calf ; 
 this they slew and quickly dressed ; and then, cutting 
 off the choicest parts, they roasted them on spits before 
 the blazing fire. And when the meal was ready, great 
 Autolycus, his wife, and his sons sat down with their 
 guests at the heavy-laden table ; and they feasted 
 merrily until the sun went down, and darkness covered 
 the earth. Then the young men brought arm-loads of 
 dry branches, and logs of pine, and threw them upon 
 the fire, and the blaze leaped up and lighted the hall 
 with a rich ruddy glow; and Odysseus sat upon a 
 couch of bearskins, at his grandfather's feet, and 
 listened to many a wonderful story of times long past, 
 but ever present in the old man's memory. 
 
 " Truly there are two things against which it is use- 
 iess for any man to fight," said Autolycus, "and these 
 are old age and death. The first has already made me 
 
The King of Cattle Thieves. 55 
 
 his slave, and the second will soon have me in his 
 clutches. When I was young, there was not a man 
 who could outstrip me in the foot race. I even thought 
 myself a match for the fleet-footed maiden Atalanta. 
 There were very few men, even among the great heroes, 
 who could hurl a spear with more force than I ; and 
 there was hardly one who could bend my great bow. 
 But now both spear and bow are useless. You see 
 them standing in the corner there, where my eyes can 
 rest upon them. To-morrow you shall help me polish 
 them." 
 
 Then after a moment's pause he added, " But, oh 
 the wrestling and the leaping ! There was never but 
 one mortal who could excel me in either." 
 
 "I have heard," said Odysseus, "that even great 
 Heracles was your pupil." 
 
 "And such indeed he was," answered the old man. 
 " The first time I saw the matchless hero, he was but a 
 child, tall and beautiful, with the eyes of a wild deer, 
 and with flaxen hair falling over his shoulders. But he 
 was stronger even then than any common mortal. His 
 stepfather Amphitryon called me to Thebes to be the 
 boy's teacher, for he saw in him rich promises of future 
 greatness. With me he called many of the noblest 
 men of Hellas. First there was Eurytus, the master 
 of archers, who taught the hero how to bend the bow 
 and send the swift arrow straight to the mark. But in 
 an evil day Eurytus met his fate, and all through his 
 own folly. For, being proud of hn skill, which na 
 
56 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 mortal could excel, he challenged great Apollo to a 
 shooting match ; and the angry archer-god pierced him 
 through and through with his arrows. 
 
 "Second among the teachers of Heracles was Castor, 
 the brother of Polydeuces and of Helen, the most 
 beautiful of women. He taught the hero how to wield 
 the spear and the sword. Then, there was Linus, the 
 brother of Orpheus, sweetest of musicians, who came 
 to teach him how to touch the lyre and bring forth 
 bewitching melody ; but the boy, whose mind was set 
 on great deeds, cared naught for music, and the lessons 
 which Linus gave him were profitless. 'Thou art but 
 a dull and witless youth ! ' cried the minstrel one day, 
 striking his pupil upon the cheek. Then Heracles in 
 wrath smote Linus with his own lyre, and killed him. 
 ' Even a dull pupil has his rights,' said he, ' and one of 
 these is the right not to be called a blockhead.' The 
 Theban rulers brought the young hero to trial for his 
 crime ; but he stood up before them, and reminded them 
 of a half-forgotten law which Rhadamanthus, the ruler 
 of the Elysian land, had given them: ' Whoso defends 
 himself against an unjust attack is guiltless, and shall 
 go free' And the judges, pleased with his wisdom, gave 
 him his liberty." 
 
 " Did Heracles have any other teachers ? " asked 
 Odysseus, anxious to hear more. 
 
 " Yes ; Amphytrion himself taught the lad how to 
 drive a chariot skilfully, and how to manage horses. 
 And, as I have said, he called me to teach him the 
 
The King of Cattle Thieves. 57 
 
 manly arts of leaping and running and wrestling. He 
 was an apt pupil, and soon excelled his master; and 
 Amphitryon, fearing that in a thoughtless moment he 
 might serve me as he had served unlucky Linus, sent 
 him away to Mount Cithaeron to watch his herds 
 which were pasturing there." 
 
 "Surely," said Odysseus, looking at the giant arms 
 of his grandfather, ridged with iron muscles, — " surely 
 there was no danger of the young hero harming you." 
 
 "A son of Hermes, such as I," said the old chief, 
 " might dare to stand against Heracles in craft and cun- 
 ning, but never in feats of strength. While the lad fed 
 Amphytrion's flocks in the mountain meadows, he grew 
 to be a giant, four cubits in height, and terrible to look 
 upon. His voice was like the roar of a desert lion ; his 
 step was like the march of an earthquake ; and fire 
 flashed from his eyes like the glare of thunderbolts 
 when they are hurled from the storm clouds down to 
 the fruitful plains below. He could tear up trees by 
 their roots, and hurl mountain crags from their places. 
 It was then that he slew the Cithaeron lion with his 
 bare hands, and took its skin for a helmet and a mantle 
 which, I am told, he wears to this very day. Only a 
 little while after this, he led the Thebans into a battle 
 with their enemies, the Minyans, and gained for them a 
 glorious victory. Then Pallas Athene^ well pleased 
 with the hero, gave him a purple robe ; Hephaestus 
 made for him a breastplate of solid gold ; and Hermes 
 gave him a sword, Apollo a bow, and Poseidon a team 
 
58 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 of the most wonderful horses ever known. Then, that 
 he might be fully armed, he went into the Nemaean 
 wood, and cut for himself that stout club which he 
 always carries, and which is more terrible in his hands 
 than spear, or sword, or bow and arrows." 
 
 " I have heard," said Odysseus, " that Cheiron, the 
 centaur, was one of the teachers of Heracles." 
 
 "He was not only his teacher," said Autolycus, "but 
 he was his friend. He taught what was just and true; 
 he showed him that there is one thing greater than 
 strength, and that is gentleness ; and he led him to 
 change his rude, savage nature into one full of kind- 
 ness and love : so that in all the world there is no one 
 so full of pity for the poor and weak, so full of sym- 
 pathy for the down-trodden, as is Heracles the strong. 
 Had it not been for wise Cheiron, I fear that Heracles 
 would not have made the happy decision which he once 
 did, when the choice of two roads was offered him." 
 
 "What was that?" asked Odysseus. "I have never 
 heard about it." 
 
 " When Heracles was a fair-faced youth, and life was 
 all before him, he went out one morning to do an errand 
 for his stepfather Amphitryon. But as he walked, his 
 heart was full of bitter thoughts ; and he murmured 
 because others no better than himself were living in 
 ease and pleasure, while for him there was naught but 
 a life of labor and pain. And as he thought upon these 
 things, he came to a place where two roads met ; and 
 he stopped, not certain which one to take. The road 
 
The King of Cattle Thieves. 59 
 
 on his right was hilly and rough ; there was no beauty 
 in it or about it : but he saw that it led straight towards 
 the blue mountains in the far distance. The road on 
 his left was broad and smooth, with shade trees on 
 either side, where sang an innumerable choir of birds ; 
 and it went winding among green meadows, where 
 bloomed countless flowers : but it ended in fog and 
 mist long before it ever reached the wonderful blue 
 mountains in the distance. 
 
 " While the lad stood in doubt as to these roads, he 
 saw two fair women coming towards him, each on a 
 different road. The one who came by the flowery way 
 reached him first, and Heracles saw that she was beau- 
 tiful as a summer day. Her cheeks were red, her eyes 
 sparkled ; she spoke warm, persuasive words. ' O noble 
 youth,' she said, ' be no longer bowed down with labor 
 and sore trials, but come and follow me. I will lead 
 you into pleasant paths, where there are no storms to 
 disturb and no troubles to annoy. You shall live in 
 ease, with one unending round of music and mirth ; and 
 you shall not want for any thing that makes life joyous, 
 ■ — sparkling wine, or soft couches, or rich robes, or the 
 loving eyes of beautiful maidens. Come with me, and 
 life shall be to you a day-dream of gladness.' 
 
 " By this time the other fair woman had drawn near, 
 and she now spoke to the lad. ' I have nothing to 
 promise you,' said she, 'save that which you shall win 
 with your own strength. The road upon which I would 
 lead you is uneven and hard, and climbs many a hill, 
 
60 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 and descends into many a valley and quagmire. The 
 views which you will sometimes get from the hilltops 
 are grand and glorious, but the deep valleys are dark, 
 and the ascent from them is toilsome ; but the road 
 leads to the blue mountains of endless fame, which you 
 see far away on the horizon. They cannot be reached 
 without labor; in fact, there is nothing worth having 
 that must not be won by toil. If you would have fruits 
 and flowers, you must plant them and care for them ; 
 if you would gain the love of your fellow-men, you must 
 love them and suffer for them ; if you would enjoy the 
 favor of Heaven, you must make yourself worthy of 
 that favor ; if you would have eternal fame, you must 
 not scorn the hard road that leads to it.' 
 
 " Then Heracles saw that this lady, although she was 
 as beautiful as the other, had a countenance pure and 
 gentle, like the sky on a balmy morning in May. 
 
 " ' What is your name ? ' he asked. 
 
 " ' Some call me Labor,' she answered, ' but others 
 know me as Virtue.' 
 
 "Then he turned to the first lady. 'And what is 
 your name ? ' he asked. 
 
 " ' Some call me Pleasure,' she said, with a bewitching 
 smile, 'but I choose to be known as the Joyous and 
 Happy One.' 
 
 " ' Virtue,' said Heracles, ' I will take thee as my 
 guide ! The road of labor and honest effort shall be 
 mine, and my heart shall no longer cherish bitterness 
 or discontent.' 
 
The King of Cattle Thieves. 61 
 
 " And he put his hand into that of Virtue, and en- 
 tered with her upon the straight and forbidding road 
 which leads to the fair blue mountains on the pale and 
 distant horizon. 1 
 
 "My dear grandson, make thou the same wise 
 choice. 
 
 " But now the fire has burned low, and it is time that 
 both old and young should seek repose. Go now to 
 your chamber and your couch ; and pleasant dreams 
 be yours until the new day dawns, bringing its labors 
 and its victories." 
 
 1 See Note 5 at the end of this volume. 
 
ADVENTURE VI. 
 
 TWO FAMOUS BOAR HUNTS. 
 
 Hardly had the morning tinged the eastern sky with 
 her yellow light, when Odysseus arose from his couch, 
 and quickly clothed himself ; for he had been awak- 
 ened by the sound of hurrying feet, and many voices, 
 and the barking of dogs, beneath his chamber window. 
 When he went down into the great hall, he was greeted 
 by his six stalwart uncles, all of whom were dressed for 
 the chase, and armed with spears and knives. 
 
 " To-day we hunt the wild boar on the wooded slopes 
 of Parnassus," said Echion, the eldest. " How glad we 
 should be if you were old enough and strong enough to 
 join us in the sport ! " 
 
 The heart of Odysseus was stirred at once, like that 
 of a warrior when he hears the battle-call. " I am 
 certainly strong enough ! " he cried. " I will ask my 
 grandfather if I may go." 
 
 Autolycus smiled when the boy made known his wish. 
 
 Indeed, he was expecting such a request, and would 
 
 have been disappointed and displeased if it had not 
 
 been made. 
 
 62 
 
Two Famous Boar Hunts. 63 
 
 "Yes, go, my child," he said ; "and while I sit here, 
 bound with the fetters of old age, my blessing shall 
 go with you." 
 
 Odysseus thanked his grandfather, and lost no time in 
 making himself ready for the hunt. A hasty meal was 
 eaten ; and then the huntsmen, with a great number of 
 dogs and serving-men, sallied forth, and began to climb 
 the mountain slopes. The master of the hunt was an 
 old, gray-bearded man, one of the last of the ancient 
 race of heroes, whose whole life had been spent in the 
 household of Autolycus. Old as he was, he outstrode 
 all the other huntsmen ; but Odysseus, young and sup- 
 ple, kept close behind him, — a dwarf following in the 
 wake of a giant. Upward and still upward they toiled, 
 while their comrades, with the hounds, followed slowly 
 far below them. They passed through the belt of pine 
 trees, and left the wooded slopes behind. There was 
 now nothing but bare rocks before and above them. 
 The cold winds whistled about their heads ; the moun- 
 tain eagles soared and screamed in the sharp morning 
 air. 
 
 " Surely, my father," said Odysseus, " the lair ijt the 
 wild boar cannot be on these bleak heights. Would it 
 not be better to seek him among the woods of the lower 
 slopes ? " 
 
 " You are right," said the old man, stopping at last 
 upon one of the highest crags. " I have brought you 
 to this spot, not in search of game, but to show you 
 what is a truly great and beautiful sight. Your tutor 
 
64 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 has told me that you once had a glimpse of the world 
 from Mount Neritus ; now look around you, and see the 
 world itself ! " 
 
 Then the lad looked ; and far away on the blue hori- 
 zon he saw the silvery heights of Olympus, the throne 
 of mighty Zeus, glittering in the sunlight, and canopied 
 with clouds. On his right he beheld Mount Helicon 
 and the fruitful plains of Bceotia, and the blue sea of 
 -iEgaea stretching away and away towards the sunrise 
 halls of Helios. Southward lay the Bay of Crissa, and 
 beyond it the land of mighty Pelops, and busy Corinth, 
 and the rich pasture-lands of Arcadia. Then turning 
 to the west, he saw, like a mere speck on the horizon, 
 his own loved Ithaca ; while nearer were the woods of 
 Calydon and the green headlands of Achaia. At that 
 moment the clouds which had been hanging about the 
 mountain-top suddenly melted away, and the sun shone 
 out bright and clear, bathing the woods and crags in 
 purple and gold ; while at the same time the music of 
 ten thousand voices of birds and beasts and nymphs 
 and waterfalls was borne up from below to their 
 delighted ears. 
 
 " Is not this a beautiful world ? " asked the aged hero, 
 baring his gray head to the cold winds. " What would 
 you not give to have it all for your own ? " 
 
 The lad answered not a word ; but his eyes filled with 
 tears as he thought of his home and of those whom he 
 loved, far away by the green slopes of little Neritus. 
 
 " My son," then said the hero, "remember the choice 
 
Two Famous Boar Hunts. 65 
 
 of Heracles. Happiness is to be gotten from within 
 us. It is not to be bought with silver and gold, nor yet 
 is it to be seized upon with violence. Better have a 
 clean conscience than to own all Hellas ; better — 
 But hark ! I hear the dogs in the dells far below 
 us ! Let us hasten down, for they have started the 
 game." 
 
 Within a thorny thicket where grew the vines and 
 leaves so closely that the sun's rays never struggled 
 through them, the huge wild boar had made his lair. 
 Hither the hounds had tracked him ; and their deep 
 baying, and the trampling of many feet among the dead 
 leaves upon the ground, had roused the beast, and 
 stirred him into fury. Suddenly he sprang from his 
 lair, and gnashing his huge tusks, and foaming with 
 fury, he charged upon his foes. The dogs fell back, 
 afraid to come too close to an enemy so fierce and 
 strong ; and with their many-toned bays they made the 
 echoes of Parnassus ring. 
 
 Just at this moment, the boy Odysseus rushed down 
 into the glen, his long spear poised and ready to strike. 
 But the great beast waited not for the stroke : he dashed 
 furiously at the boy, who quickly leaped aside, although 
 too late. The boar's sharp tusk struck Odysseus just 
 above the knee, cutting a fearful gash, tearing the flesh, 
 and even grazing the bone. But the lad, undaunted, 
 struck manfully with his weapon. The bright spear 
 was driven straight to the heart of the beast ; with one 
 great cry he fell, and gnashing his huge jaws helplessly 
 
66 A Story of the Golden Age, 
 
 he died among the withered leaves. The boy, faint 
 with pain and the joy of victory, staggered into the 
 arms of his stalwart uncles, who had hastened to succor 
 him. Gently they bound up the ghastly wound, and 
 with charms and witchery stanched the flowing blood. 
 Then, upon a litter woven of vines and pliant twigs, 
 they bore him down the deep glen to the broad halls of 
 old Autolycus ; and the men and boys, having flayed 
 the grisly beast, brought afterward its head and bristly 
 hide, and set them up as trophies in the gateway. 
 
 For many weary days, Odysseus lay helpless on a 
 couch of pain. But his kind kinsmen, and Phemius 
 his tutor, waited on him tenderly, and his fair grand- 
 mother Amphithea nursed him. And when the pain 
 left him, and he began to grow strong again, he loved 
 to lie on the bearskins at his grandfather's feet, and 
 listen to tales of the earlier days, when the older race 
 of heroes walked the earth. 
 
 " When I was younger than 1 am to-day," said the 
 old chief, as they sat one evening in the light of the 
 blazing brands, — " when I was much younger than now, 
 it was my fortune to take part in the most famous boar 
 hunt the world has ever known. 
 
 "There lived at that time, in Calydon, a mighty 
 chief named Oineus, — and, indeed, I know not but that 
 he still lives. Oineus was rich in vineyards and in 
 orchards, and no other man in all ^Etolia was happier 
 or more blessed than he. He had married, early in life, 
 the princess Althea, fairest of the Acarnanian maidens •, 
 
Two Famous Boar Hunts. 67 
 
 and to them a son had been born, golden-haired and 
 beautiful, whom they called Meleager. 
 
 " When Meleager was yet but one day old, his father 
 held him in his arms, and prayed to Zeus and the ever- 
 living powers above : ' Grant, Father Zeus, and all ye 
 deathless ones, that this my son may be the foremost 
 among the men of Hellas. And let it come to pass, 
 that when they see his valiant deeds, his countrymen 
 shall say, " Behold, this youth is greater than his father," 
 and all of one accord shall hail him as their guardian 
 king.' 
 
 "Then his mother Althea, weeping tears of joy, 
 prayed to Pallas Athene, that the boy might grow up 
 to be pure-minded and gentle, the hope and pride of 
 his parents, and the delight and staff of their declining 
 years. Scarcely had the words of prayer died from her 
 lips, when there came into her chamber the three 
 unerring Fates who spin the destinies of men. White- 
 robed and garlanded, they stood beside the babe, and 
 with unwearied fingers drew out the lines of his un- 
 tried life. Sad Clotho held the golden distaff in her 
 hand, and twirled and twisted the delicate thread. 
 Lachesis, now sad, now hopeful, with her long white 
 fingers held the hourglass, and framed her lips to say, 
 ' It is enough.' And Atropos, blind and unpitying as 
 the future always is, stood ready, with cruel shears, to 
 clip the twist in twain. Busily and silently sad Clotho 
 spun ; and the golden thread, thin as a spider's web, 
 yet beautiful as a sunbeam, grew longer and more 
 
68 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 golden between her skilful fingers. Then Lachesis 
 cried out, ' It is finished ! ' But Atropos hid her shears 
 beneath her mantle, and said, ' Not so. Behold, there 
 is a brand burning upon the hearth. Wait until it is 
 all burned into ashes and smoke, and then I will cut 
 the thread of the child's life. Spin on, sweet Clotho ! ' 
 
 " Quick as thought, Althea sprang forward, snatched 
 the blazing brand from the hearth, and quenched its 
 flame in a jar of water ; and when she knew that not a 
 single spark was left glowing upon it, she locked it 
 safely in a chest where none but she could find it. As 
 she did this, the pitiless sisters vanished from her sight, 
 saying as they flitted through the air, 'We bide our 
 time.' l 
 
 " Meleager grew up to be a tall and fair and gentle 
 youth ; and when at last he became a man, he sailed on 
 the ship Argo, with Jason, and Laertes your father, 
 and the great heroes of that day, to far-off Colchis, in 
 search of the Golden Fleece. Many brave deeds were 
 his in foreign lands ; and when he came home again to 
 Calydon, he brought with him a fair young wife, gentle 
 Cleopatra, daughter of Idas the boaster. 
 
 " Oineus had gathered in his harvest ; and he was 
 glad and thankful in his heart, because his fields had 
 yielded plenteous: y ; his vines had been loaded with 
 purple grapes, and his orchards filled with abundance 
 of pleasant fruit. Grateful, as men should always be, to 
 the givers of peace and plenty, he held within his halls 
 
 1 See Note 6 at the end of this volume. 
 
Two Famous Boar Hunts. 09 
 
 a harvest festival, to which the brave and beautiful of 
 all iEtolia came. Happy was this feast, and the hours 
 were bright with smiles and sunshine ; and men forgot 
 sorrow and labor, and thought only of the gladness of 
 life. 
 
 " Then Oineus took of the first-fruits of his fields and 
 his vineyards and his orchards, and offered them in 
 thankful offerings to the givers of good. But he forgot 
 to deck the shrine of Artemis with gifts, little thinking 
 that the arrow-darting queen cared for any thing which 
 mortal men might offer her. Ah, woful mistake was 
 that ! For, in her anger at the slight, Artemis sent a 
 savage boar, with ivory tusks and foaming mouth, to 
 overrun the lands of Calydon. Many a field did the 
 monster ravage, many a tree uproot ; and all the grow- 
 ing vines, which late had borne so rich a vintage, were 
 trampled to the ground. Sadly troubled was Oineus, 
 and the chieftains of iEtolia knew not what to do. For 
 the fierce beast could not be slain, but with his terrible 
 tusks he had sent many a rash hunter to an untimely 
 death. Then the young man Meleager said, 'I will 
 call together the heroes of Hellas, and we will hunt the 
 boar in the woods of Calydon.' 
 
 "And so at the call of Meleager, the warriors flocked 
 from every land, to join in the hunt of the fierce wild 
 boar. Among them came Castor and Polydeuces, the 
 twin brothers from Lacedaemon ; and Idas the boaster, 
 the father-in-law of Meleager, from Messene ; and 
 mighty Jason, captain of the Argo ; and Atalanta, 
 
Jo A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 the swift -footed daughter of Iasus of Arcadia ; and 
 many Acarnanian huntsmen led by the sons of Thes- 
 tios, Althea's brothers. Thither also did I, Autolycus, 
 hasten, although men spitefully said that I was far 
 more skilful in taking tame beasts than in slaying wild 
 ones. 
 
 " Nine days we feasted in the halls of Oineus ; and 
 every day we tried our skill with bows and arrows, and 
 tested the strength of our well-seasoned spears. On 
 the tenth, the bugles sounded, and hounds and hunts- 
 men gathered in the courtyard of the chief, chafing for 
 the hunt. But a proud fellow named Cepheus, of Ar^ 
 cadia, when he saw fair Atalanta equipped for the 
 chase, drew back disdainfully, and said, — 
 
 " ' In my country, it is not the custom for heroes to 
 go to battle or to hunt side by side with women. 
 Woman's place is at home : her weapons are the distaff 
 and the needle ; her duty is to practise well the house- 
 hold virtues. If you allow this young girl to join in 
 this hunt, then I will turn my face homeward, and seek 
 in the Arcadian land adventures worthy of men.' 
 
 "Then Meleager angrily answered, 'In the Arcadian 
 land, if report speaks truly, the deeds deemed worthiest 
 of men are the watching of flocks and the tuning of 
 the shepherd's pipe. It is fear, not bravery, that 
 makes you seek an excuse to leave the chase of the 
 wild boar before it is begun. You are afraid of the 
 beast ; and you are still more afraid of the maiden Ata- 
 lanta, lest she should prove to be more skilled than you. 
 
Two Famous Boar Hunts. 77 
 
 Have you heard how, when an infant, she was left to 
 perish on the Parthenian hill, and would have died, had 
 not a she-bear cared for her until some hunters rescued 
 her ? Have you heard how, as she grew up, her beauty 
 was greater than that of any other maiden, and how no 
 one but Artemis, the archer-queen, could shoot the 
 swift arrow so fair and straight ? Have you heard what 
 she did on the ship Argo, when, with Jason as our 
 captain, we sailed to the utmost bounds of the earth, 
 and brought home with us the fleece of gold ? Have 
 you heard how, with her own arrows, she slew the 
 beastly centaurs, Rhoecus and Hylaeus, because they 
 dared to make love to one so pure and beautiful ? 
 Doubtless you have heard all these things, and you are 
 afraid to go to the field of danger with one so much 
 nobler than yourself. Go back, then, to your sheep- 
 tending Arcadia ! No one will miss you in the chase.' 
 
 "Then Cepheus blushed, but more from shame than 
 anger. ' I will ride with you into the wood,' said he, 
 ' and never again shall any man accuse me of having a 
 timid heart.' 
 
 " Soon we sallied forth from the town, a hundred 
 huntsmen, with dogs innumerable. Through the fields 
 and orchards, laid waste by the savage beast, we 
 passed ; and Atalanta, keen of sight and swift of foot, 
 her long hair floating in the wind behind her, led all 
 the rest. It was not long until, in a narrow dell once 
 green with vines and trees, but now strewn thick with 
 withered branches, we roused the fierce creature from 
 
72 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 his lair. At first he fled, followed closely by the bay- 
 ing hounds. Then suddenly he faced his foes ; with 
 gnashing teeth and bloodshot eyes, he charged furi- 
 ously upon them. A score of hounds were slain out- 
 right ; and Cepheus, rushing blindly onward, was 
 caught by the beast, and torn in pieces by his sharp 
 tusks. Brave Peleus of Phthia with unsteady aim let 
 fly an arrow from his bow, which, falling short of the 
 mark, smote his friend Eurytion full in the breast, and 
 stretched him lifeless upon the ground. Then swift- 
 footed Atalanta, bounding forward, struck the beast a 
 deadly blow with her spear. He stopped short his furi- 
 ous onslaught ; and Amphiaraus, the hero and prophet 
 of Argos, launching a swift arrow, put out one of his 
 eyes. Terrible were the cries of the wounded creature, 
 as, blinded and bleeding, he made a last charge upon 
 the huntsmen. But Meleager with a skilful sword- 
 thrust pierced his heart, and the beast fell weltering 
 in his gore. Great joy filled the hearts of the Caly- 
 donians, when they saw the scourge of their land laid 
 low and helpless. They quickly flayed the beast, and 
 the heroes who had shared in the hunt divided the 
 flesh among them ; but the head and the bristly hide 
 they gave to Meleager. 
 
 " ' Not to me does the prize belong,' he cried, ' but to 
 Atalanta, the swift-footed huntress. For the first wound 
 — the true death stroke, indeed — was given by her ; 
 and to her, woman though she be, all honor and the 
 prize must be awarded.' 
 
Two Famous Boar Hunts. 73 
 
 "With these words, he bore the grinning head and the 
 bristly hide to the fair young huntress, and laid them 
 at her feet. Then his uncles, the sons of Acarnanian 
 Thestios, rushed angrily forward, saying that no woman 
 should ever bear a prize away from them ; and they 
 seized the hide, and would have taken it away, had not 
 Meleager forbidden them. Yet they would not loose 
 their hold upon the prize, but drew their swords, and 
 wrathfully threatened Meleager's life. The hero's heart 
 grew hot within him, and he shrunk not from the affray. 
 Long and fearful was the struggle, — uncles against 
 nephew ; but in the end the sons of Thestios lay bleed- 
 ing upon the ground, while the victor brought again the 
 boar's hide, and laid it the second time at Atalanta's 
 feet. The fair huntress took the prize, and carried it 
 away with her to deck her father's hall in the pleasant 
 Arcadian land. And the heroes, when they had feasted 
 nine other days with King Oineus, betook themselves 
 to their own homes. 
 
 "But the hearts of the Acarnanians were bitter 
 towards Meleager, because of the death of the sons of 
 Thestios, and because no part of the wild boar was 
 awarded to them. They called their chiefs around 
 them, and all their brave men, and made war upon King 
 Oineus and Meleager. Many battles did they fight 
 round Calydon, and among the ^Etolian hills ; yet while 
 Meleager led his warriors to the fray, the Acarnanians 
 fared but ill. 
 
 " Then Queen Althea, filled with grief for her broth- 
 
74 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 ers' untimely death, forgot her love for her son, and 
 prayed that her Acarnanian kinsmen might prevail 
 against him. Upon the hard earth she knelt : she beat 
 the ground with her hands, and heaped the dust about 
 her ; and, weeping bitter tears, she called upon Hades 
 and heartless Persephone to avenge her of Meleager. 
 And even as she prayed, the pitiless Furies, wandering 
 amid the darkness, heard her cries, and came, obedient 
 to her wishes. 
 
 " When Meleager heard that his mother had turned 
 against him, he withdrew in sorrow to his own house, 
 and sought comfort and peace with his wife, fair Cle- 
 opatra ; and he would not lead his warriors any more 
 to battle against the Acarnanians. Then the enemy 
 besieged the city : a fearful tumult rose about the gates ; 
 the high towers were assaulted, and everywhere the 
 Calydonians were driven back dismayed and beaten. 
 With uplifted hands and tearful eyes, King Oineus and 
 the elders of the city came to Meleager, and besought 
 him to take the field again. Rich gifts they offered 
 him. They bade him choose for his own the most 
 fertile farm in Calydon, — at the least fifty acres, half 
 for tillage and half for vines ; but he would not listen to 
 them. The din of battle thickened outside the gates ; 
 the towers shook with the thundering blows of the 
 besiegers. Old Oineus with trembling limbs climbed 
 up the stairway to his son's secluded chamber, and, 
 weeping, prayed him to come down and save the city 
 from fire and pillage. Still he kept silent, and went not. 
 
Two Famous Boar Hunts. 75 
 
 His sisters came, and his most trusted friends. 'Come, 
 Meleager,' they prayed, 'forget thy grief, and think 
 only of our great need. Aid thy people, or we shall 
 all perish ! ' 
 
 " None of these prayers moved him. The gates were 
 beaten down ; the enemy was within the walls ; the 
 tide of battle shook the very tower where Meleager sat ; 
 the doom of Calydon seemed to be sealed. Then came 
 the fair Cleopatra, and knelt before her husband, and 
 besought him to withhold no longer the aid which he 
 alone could give. ' O Meleager,' she sobbed, 'none but 
 thou can save us. Wilt thou sit still, and see the city 
 laid in ashes, thy dearest friends slaughtered, and thy 
 wife and sweet babes dragged from their homes and 
 sold into cruel slavery ? ' 
 
 " Then Meleager rose and girded on his armor. To 
 the streets he hastened, shouting his well-known battle- 
 cry. Eagerly and hopefully did the Calydonian war- 
 riors rally around him. Fiercely did they meet the foe. 
 Terrible was the bloodshed. Back from the battered 
 gates and the crumbling wall, the Acarnanian hosts 
 were driven. A panic seized upon them. They turned 
 and fled, and not many of them escaped the swords of 
 Meleager's men. 
 
 " Again there was peace in Calydon, and the orchards 
 of King Oineus blossomed and bore fruit as of old; 
 but the gifts and large rewards which the elders had 
 promised to Meleager were forgotten. He had saved 
 his country, but his countrymen were ungrateful. 
 
J 6 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 "Then Meleager again laid aside his war-gear, and 
 sought the quiet of his own home, and the cheering 
 presence of fair Cleopatra. For the remembrance of 
 his mother's curse and his country's ingratitude weighed 
 heavily on his mind, and he cared no longer to mingle 
 with his fellow-men. 
 
 " Then it was that Althea's hatred of her son waxed 
 stronger, and she thought of the half-burnt brand which 
 she had hidden, and of the words which the fatal sisters 
 had spoken so many years before. 
 
 "' He is no longer my son,' said she, 'and why should 
 I withhold the burning of the brand ? He can never 
 again bring comfort to my heart ; for the blood of my 
 brothers, whom I loved, is upon his head.' 
 
 "And she took the charred billet from the place where 
 she had hidden it, and cast it again into the flames. 
 And as it slowly burned away, so did the life of Melea- 
 ger wane. Lovingly he bade his wife farewell ; softly 
 he whispered a prayer to the unseen powers above ; and 
 as the flickering flames of the fatal brand died into 
 darkness, he gently breathed his last. 
 
 " Then sharp-toothed remorse seized upon Althea, and 
 the mother-love which had slept in her bosom was re- 
 awakened. Too late, also, the folk of Calydon remem- 
 bered who it was that had saved them from slavery and 
 death. Down into the comfortless halls of Hades, 
 Althea hastened to seek her son's forgiveness. The 
 loving heart of Cleopatra, surcharged with grief, was 
 broken ; and her gentle spirit fled to the world of shades 
 
Two Famous Boar Hunts. J J 
 
 to meet that of her hero-husband. And Meleager's 
 sisters would not be consoled, so great was the sorrow 
 which had come upon them ; and they wept and 
 lamented day and night, until kind Artemis in pity for 
 their youth changed them into the birds which we call 
 Meleagrides." 
 
 Lying on the bearskins at his grandfather's feet, and 
 listening to stories like this, Odysseus did not feel that 
 time was burdensome. The wound upon his knee 
 healed slowly ; and when at last he could walk again, a 
 white scar, as long and as broad as a finger, told the 
 story of his combat with the fierce wild boar. By this 
 time the summer was far spent, and the bard Phemius 
 was impatient to return to Ithaca. 
 
 "The grapes in your father's vineyard are growing 
 purple, and his orchards are laden with ripening fruit," 
 said he to Odysseus ; " and the days are near at hand 
 when your anxious mother will gaze with longing over 
 the sea, expecting your return." 
 
 But there was no vessel at the port on the bay to 
 carry them home by the nearest way ; and days and 
 months might pass ere any ship, sent thither by 
 Laertes, would arrive. How, then, were they to return 
 to Ithaca ? 
 
 "Here is your uncle, bold Echion, who goes to- 
 morrow to Iolcos by the sea, carrying gifts and a 
 message from Autolycus to old King Peleus. We 
 will go with him." 
 
78 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " But Iolcos is farther still from Ithaca," said 
 Odysseus. 
 
 "True," answered Phemius. "But from Iolcos, at 
 this season of the year, there are many vessels sailing 
 to Corinth and the islands of the sea. Once at Corinth, 
 and we shall find no lack of ships to carry us across the 
 bay of Crissa to our own loved Ithaca." 
 
 And thus the journey home was planned. It was a 
 long and devious route by way of Iolcos and the Euboean 
 Sea ; and no one could say how many dangers they 
 might meet, or how many delays they should encounter. 
 Yet nothing better could be done, if they would return 
 before the summer ended. 
 
 The great Autolycus blessed Odysseus on departing, 
 and gave him rich gifts of gold and priceless gems, and 
 many words of sage advice. " I shall see thee no 
 more," he said ; " but thy name shall be spoken count- 
 less ages hence, and men shall say, ' How shrewd and 
 far-seeing, brave in war, and wise in counsel, was 
 Odysseus ! ' " 
 
ADVENTURE VII. 
 
 AT OLD CHEIRON'S SCHOOL. 
 
 After a long, hard journey by land and sea, 
 Odysseus and his tutor, with bold Echion, came to 
 Iolcos. Aged Peleus, king of Phthia and the fertile 
 plains of Iolcos, greeted them with show of heartiest 
 welcome ; for he remembered that Laertes had been 
 his friend and comrade long years before, when to- 
 gether on the Argo they sailed the briny deep, and 
 he was glad to see the son of that old comrade ; 
 and he took Odysseus by the hand, and led him into 
 his palace, and gave him of the best of all that 
 he had. 
 
 "Tarry with me for a month,'' he said. " My ships 
 are now at sea, but they will return ; and when the 
 moon rises again full and round, as it did last night, I 
 will send you safe to Corinth on the shores of the Bay 
 of Crissa." 
 
 And so Odysseus and the bard staid a whole month 
 at Iolcos, in the house of Peleus the king. There were 
 feasting and merriment in the halls every day ; and yet 
 the time hung heavily, for the boy longed to re-behold 
 
 70 
 
80 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 his own loved Ithaca, and could hardly wait to see the 
 moon grow full and round again. 
 
 " What mountain is that which looms up so grandly 
 on our left, and whose sides seem covered with dark 
 forests ? " asked Odysseus one day, as he walked with 
 his tutor beside the sea. 
 
 "It is famous Mount Pelion," said the bard; "and 
 that other mountain with the steeper sides, which 
 stands out faintly against the far horizon, is the scarcely 
 less famed Ossa." 
 
 " I have heard my father speak of piling Pelion upon 
 Ossa," said Odysseus, " but I cannot understand how 
 that can be done." 
 
 " There were once two brothers, the tallest that the 
 grain -giving earth has ever reared," said Phemius. 
 " Their names were Otus and Ephialtes ; and they 
 threatened to make war even against the deathless 
 ones who dwell on Mount Olympus. They boasted 
 that they would pile Ossa on Olympus, and Pelion, 
 with all its woods, upon the top of Ossa, that so they 
 might make a pathway to the sky. And, had they 
 lived to manhood's years, no one can say what deeds 
 they would have done. But silver-bowed Apollo, with 
 his swift arrows, slew the twain ere yet the down had 
 bloomed upon their cheeks or darkened their chins 
 with the promise of manhood. And so Pelion still 
 stands beside the sea, and Ossa, in its own place, 
 guards the lovely vale of Tempe." * 
 
 ' See Odyssey, Book xi. L 306. 
 
At Old C heir on' s School. 
 
 " Oh, now I remember something else about Mount 
 Pelion," cried Odysseus. " It was from the trees which 
 grew upon its sides, that the ship Argo was built. 
 And I have heard my father tell how Cheiron the 
 Centaur once lived in a cave on Pelion, and taught 
 the young heroes who came to learn of him ; and how 
 young Jason came down the mountain one day, and 
 boldly stood before King Pelias, who had robbed old 
 iEson, his father, of the kingdom which was rightfully 
 his. Would that I had been one of Cheiron's pupils, 
 and had shared the instruction which he gave to those 
 youthful heroes ! " 
 
 "The old Centaur still lives in his cave on Mount 
 Pelion," said Phemius. "To-morrow, if King Peleus is 
 willing, we will go and see him." 
 
 And so, the next day, the two went out of Iolcos, 
 through vineyards and fields and olive orchards, to- 
 wards Pelion, the snow-crowned warder of the shore. 
 They followed a winding pathway, and came ere long 
 to the foot of the mighty mountain. Above them were 
 frowning rocks, and dark forests of pine, which seemed 
 ready to fall upon and crush them. But among the 
 trees, and in the crannies of the rocks, there grew 
 thousands of sweetest flowers, and every kind of health- 
 giving herb, and tender grass for the mountain-climbing 
 deer. Up and up they climbed, until the dark forests 
 gave place to stunted shrubs, and the shrubs to barren 
 rocks. Then the pathway led downward again to the 
 head of a narrow glen, where roared a foaming water- 
 
82 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 fall. There they came to the mouth of a cave opening 
 out upon a sunny ledge, and almost hidden behind a 
 broad curtain of blossoming vines. From within the 
 cave there came the sound of music, — the sweet 
 tones of a harp, mingled with the voices of singers. 
 
 Of what did they sing ? 
 
 They sang of things pure and good and beautiful, — 
 of the mighty sea, and the grain-bearing earth, and the 
 blue vault of heaven ; of faith, strong and holy ; of 
 hope, bright and trustful ; of love, pure and mighty. 
 Then the singing ceased, and the harp was laid aside. 
 
 Odysseus and the bard went quickly forward, and 
 stood waiting beside the wide-open door. They could 
 see, by looking in, that the low walls of the cave were 
 adorned with shields of leather or bronze, with the 
 antlers of deer, and with many other relics of battle 
 or of the chase. Upon the smooth white floor were 
 soft couches of bearskins ; and upon the hearthstone 
 in the centre blazed a bright fire of twigs, casting a 
 ruddy, flickering light into the farthest nook and cranny 
 of that strange room. 
 
 They had not long to wait at the door. An old man 
 with white hair, and beard reaching to his waist, with 
 eyes as clear and bright as those of a falcon, and with 
 a step as firm as that of youth, came quickly forward to 
 greet them. Odysseus thought that he had never seen 
 a man with so noble and yet so sad a mien. 
 
 " Hail, strangers ! " said the aged hero, taking theit 
 hands. "Hail, son of Laertes — for I know thee!-— 
 
At Old Cheiron s School. 83 
 
 welcome to the home of Cheiron, the last of his race ! 
 Come in, and you shall be kindly entertained ; and after 
 you have rested your weary limbs, you shall tell me 
 why you have come to Pelion, and what favor you 
 have to ask of me." 
 
 Therewith he turned again into the broad cave-hall, 
 and Odysseus and his tutor followed him. And he led 
 his guests, and seated them on pleasant couches not far 
 from the glowing fire upon the hearth. Then a comely 
 youth brought water in a stone pitcher, and poured it 
 in a basin, that they might wash their hands. And 
 another lad brought wheaten bread, and set it by them 
 on a polished table ; and another brought golden honey 
 in the honeycomb, and many other dainties, and laid 
 them on the board. And when they were ready, a 
 fourth lad lifted and placed before them a platter of 
 venison, and cups full of ice-cold water from the moun- 
 tain cataract. While they sat, partaking of these boun- 
 ties, not a word was spoken in the cave ; for old 
 Cheiron never forgot the courtesy due to guests and 
 strangers. When they had finished, he bade them stay 
 a while upon the couches where they sat ; and he took a 
 golden lyre in his hands, and deftly touched the chords, 
 bringing forth the most restful music that Odysseus had 
 ever heard. He played a soft, low melody which seemed 
 to carry their minds far away into a summer land of 
 peace, where they wandered at will by the side of still 
 waters, and through sunlit fields and groves, and re- 
 posed under the shelter of calm blue skies, shielded 
 
84 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 by the boundless love of the unknown Creator. When 
 he had finished, Odysseus thought no more of the toil* 
 some journey from Iolcos, or of the wearisome climbing 
 of the mountain : he thought only of the wise and 
 wonderful old man who sat before him 
 
 "Now tell me," said Cheiron, laving his lyre aside, — 
 " tell me what errand brings you hither, and what I can 
 do to aid you." 
 
 "We have no errand," answered Phemius, "save to 
 see one of the immortals, and to listen to the words of 
 wisdom and beauty which fall from his lips. We know 
 that you have been the friend and teacher of heroes 
 such as have not had their peers on earth ; and this 
 lad Odysseus, who is himself the son of a hero, would 
 fain learn something from you." 
 
 Cheiron smiled, and looked full into the young lad's 
 face. 
 
 " I have trained many such youths as you for the 
 battle of life," he said. " And your father, as were all 
 the Argonauts, was well known to me. You are wel- 
 come to Mount Pelion, and to old Cheiron's schooL 
 But why do you look at my feet ? " 
 
 Odysseus blushed, but could make no answer. 
 
 " I understand it," said Cheiron, speaking in a tone 
 of sadness. "You expected to find me half man, half 
 horse, and you were looking for the hoofs ; for thus 
 have many men thought concerning me and my race. 
 Long time ago my people dwelt in the valleys and upon 
 the plains of Thessaly; and they were the first who 
 
At Old C heir on' s School. 85 
 
 tamed the wild horses of the desert flats, and taught 
 them to obey the hand of their riders. For untold years 
 my fathers held this land, and they were as free as the 
 winds that play upon the top of Pelion. Their war- 
 riors, galloping on their swift horses with their long 
 lances ready in their hands, knew no fear, nor met any 
 foe that could stand against them; and hence men 
 called them Centaurs, 1 the piercers of the air. But by 
 and by there came a strong people from beyond the 
 sea, who built houses of stone, and lived in towns ; and 
 these made cruel war upon the swift-riding Centaurs. 
 They were the Lapiths, 2 the stone-persuaders, and they 
 had never seen or heard of horses ; and for a long time 
 they fancied that our warriors were monsters, half-steed, 
 half-man, living wild among the mountains and upon 
 the plain. And so the story has gone abroad through- 
 out the world, that all the Centaurs, and even I, the 
 last of the race, are hardly human, but have hoofs and 
 manes, and live as horses live. 
 
 " Long and sad was the war between the Centaurs 
 and the Lapiths ; but the stone - persuaders were 
 stronger than the piercers of the air. In time, my 
 people were driven into the mountains, where they 
 lived as wild men in the caves, and in the sunless 
 gorges and ravines ; and our enemies, the Lapiths, 
 abode in the rich valleys, and held the broad pasture- 
 lands which had once been ours. Then it chanced 
 that Peirithous, king of the Lapiths, saw Hippodameia-, 
 
 1 From (c«VT€if ttjv aiipav. 2 From Aaa9 Treifleiv. 
 
86 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 fairest of our mountain maidens, and wished to wed 
 her. Whether her father consented to the marriage, 
 or whether the Lapiths carried her away by force, I 
 cannot tell ; but Peirithous made a great wedding feast, 
 and to it he invited the chiefs of the Centaurs, and 
 great Theseus of Athens, and Nestor of sandy Pylos, 
 and many others of the noblest heroes of Hellas. 
 Many wild and dark stories have been told of what 
 happened at that wedding feast ; but you must remem- 
 ber that all these stories have come from the mouths 
 of our enemies, the stone-persuading Lapiths, and that 
 their truth may well be doubted. Let me tell you about 
 it, as I understand the facts to be : — 
 
 " In the midst of the feast, when the Lapiths were 
 drunken with wine, Eurytion, the boldest of the Cen- 
 taurs, rose quickly to his feet, and beckoned to his 
 fellows. Without a word they seized upon the bride ; 
 they carried her, not unwilling, from the hall ; they 
 seated her upon a swift steed which stood ready at the 
 door ; then in hot haste they mounted, aiming to ride 
 with their prize back to their mountain homes. But 
 the Lapiths were aroused, and rushed from the hall 
 ere our horsemen were outside of the gates. Fearful 
 was the struggle which followed. Our men were armed 
 with pine clubs only, which they had hidden beneath 
 their cloaks, for they dared not bring weapons to the 
 wedding feast. The Lapiths fought with spears ; and 
 with pitiless hate they slew one after another of the 
 Centaurs, until hardly a single man escaped to the 
 
At Old C heir on s School. 
 
 mountains. But the war ended not with that ; for 
 Peirithous, burning with anger, drove the remnant of 
 my people out of their mountain homes, and forced 
 them to flee far away to the lonely land of Pindus ; and 
 I, alone of all my race, was left in my cavern-dwelling 
 on the wooded slopes of Pelion." 
 
 When Cheiron had ended his story, Odysseus saw 
 that his eyes were filled with tears, and that his hand 
 trembled as he reached again for his lyre, and played a 
 short, sad melody, as mournful as a funeral song. 
 
 " Why did you not go with your kindred to the land 
 of Pindus ? " asked Phemius. 
 
 "This is my home," answered Cheiron. "The fair 
 valley which you see yonder was once my father's 
 pasture land. All the country that lies before us, even 
 to the meeting of the earth and the sky, is the country 
 of my forefathers. I have neither parents, nor brothers, 
 nor wife, nor children. Why should I wish to go away 
 from all that is dear to me ? This is a pleasant place, 
 and the young boys who have been my pupils have 
 made my life very happy." 
 
 " Please tell us about your pupils," said Odysseus, 
 moving nearer to the wise old man. 
 
 " So many boys have been under my care," said 
 Cheiron, "that I could not tell you about them all. 
 Some have come and been taught, and gone back 
 to their homes ; and the world has never heard of 
 them, because their lots have been cast in pleasant 
 places, and their lives have been spent in peace. 
 
A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 There have been others who have made their names 
 famous upon the earth ; for their paths were beset with 
 difficulties, and before them loomed great mountains 
 which they must needs remove or be crushed by them. 
 Among these latter were Heracles, doomed to a life 
 of labor, because another had usurped the place which 
 he should have had ; young Jason, hiding from the cruel 
 hatred of his uncle Pelias ; and gentle Asclepius, bereft 
 of a mother's love, and cast friendless upon the world's 
 ^old mercies. And there were also Peleus my grand- 
 son, who is now your host at Iolcos ; and Actaeon, the 
 camous hunter ; and many of the heroes who afterward 
 sailed on the Argo, to the golden strand of Colchis. 
 Each of these lads had a mind of his own, and tastes 
 which it was for me to foster and to train. Heracles 
 was headstrong, selfish, impulsive, — terrible when he 
 did not bridle his passions ; and yet his great heart 
 was full of love for the poor, the weak, and the down- 
 trodden, and he studied to make plans for lightening 
 their burdens. Jason loved the water ; and wrapped in 
 his cloak, he would sit for hours on Pelion's top, and 
 gaze with longing eyes upon the purple sea. Asclepius 
 delighted to wander among the crags and in the ravines 
 <jf Pelion, gathering herbs and flowers, and studying the 
 habits of birds and beasts. And Actaeon had a passion 
 for the woods and the fields, and had ever a pack of 
 swift hounds at his heels, ready for the chase of wild 
 boar or mountain deer. 
 
 " When these lads came to me, I saw that I must give 
 
At Old Cheiron's School, 89 
 
 to each the food which was best fitted for his needs, and 
 which his mind most craved. Had I dealt with all 
 alike, and taught all the same lessons, I doubt if any 
 would have grown to manhood's full estate. But, wkile 
 I curbed the headstrong will of Heracles, I did what I 
 could to foster his love of virtue and his inventive 
 genius ; I taught young Jason all that I knew about 
 this wonderful earth, and the seas and islands which lie 
 around it ; I led Asclepius farther along the pathway 
 which he had chosen, and showed him the virtues that 
 were hidden in plants and flowers ; I went with Actseon 
 upon the chase, and taught him that there is no sport 
 in cruelty, and that the life of the weakest creature 
 should not be taken without good cause. Thus I 
 moulded the mind of each of the lads according to 
 its bent ; and each one grew in stature and in strength 
 and in beauty, before my eyes. And then there were 
 general lessons which I gave to them all, leading them 
 to the knowledge of those things which are necessary 
 to the well-equipped and perfect man of our day. I 
 taught them how to wield the weapons of warfare and 
 of the chase ; how to ride and to swim ; and how to 
 bear fatigue without murmuring, and face danger with- 
 out fear. And I showed them how to take care of 
 their own bodies, so that they might be strong and 
 graceful, and full of health and vigor; and I taught 
 them how to heal diseases, and how to treat wounds, 
 and how to nurse the sick. And, more than all else, 
 I taught them to reverence and love that great Power, 
 
90 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 so little understood by us, but whom mankind will some 
 day learn to know. 
 
 " It was not long till Heracles went out in his might 
 to rid the world of monsters, to defend the innocent 
 and the helpless, and to set right that which is wrong ; 
 and, for aught I know, he is toiling still along the 
 straight road of Virtue, towards the blue mountains of 
 Fame. And Jason, as you know, left me, and went 
 down to Iolcos, to claim his birthright of old Pelias ; 
 and being bidden to bring the Golden Fleece to Hellas, 
 he built the Argo, and sailed with the heroes to far- 
 away Colchis. It was a proud day for me, his old 
 teacher, when he came back to Iolcos with the glitter- 
 ing treasure ; and I trusted that a life of happiness and 
 glory was before him. But, alas ! he had forgotten my 
 teaching, and had joined himself to evil ; and Medea 
 the witch, whom he loved, brought untold misery upon 
 his head, and drove him ere long to an untimely 
 death. 
 
 " Then Asclepius went out upon his mission ; and 
 everywhere that he went, he healed and purified and 
 raised and blessed. He was the greatest conqueror 
 among all my pupils ; but he won, not by strength like 
 Heracles, nor by guile like Jason, but through gentle- 
 ness and sympathy and brotherly love, and by knowl- 
 edge and skill and patient self-sacrifice ; and to him 
 men gave the highest honor, because he cured while 
 others killed. But the powers of darkness are ever 
 hateful towards the good ; and Hades, when he saw 
 
At Old C heir on s School. 91 
 
 that Asclepius snatched back to life even those who 
 were at death's door, complained that the great healer 
 was robbing his kingdom. And men say that Zeus 
 hearkened to this complaint, and that he smote Ascle- 
 pius with his thunderbolts. Then the face of the sun 
 was veiled in sorrow, and men and beasts and all crea- 
 tures upon the earth wept for great grief, and the trees 
 dropped their leaves to the ground, and the flowers 
 closed their petals and withered upon their stalks, be- 
 cause the gentle physician, who had cured all pains and 
 sickness, was no longer in the land of the living. And 
 the wrath of silver-bowed Apollo was stirred within him, 
 and he went down to the great smithy of Hephaestus, 
 and, with his swift arrows, slew the Cyclopes who had 
 forged the thunderbolts for Zeus, and spared not one. 
 Then Zeus in his turn was filled with anger ; and he 
 sent the golden-haired Apollo to Pherae, in Thessaly, 
 to serve for a whole year as bondsman to King 
 Admetus." ' 
 
 At this moment, a tall and very handsome lad, whom 
 Odysseus had not yet seen, came into the room. He 
 was not more than six years old ; his long amber hair 
 fell in waves upon his shoulders ; his eyes twinkled and 
 flashed like the sunlight on the blue sea waves ; he 
 held his head erect, and he walked with a noble grace 
 which betokened the proud soul within his breast. 
 The eyes of Odysseus were fixed upon him, and he 
 wondered who this noble human being could be. 
 
 1 See Note 7 at the end of this volume. 
 
92 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 Cheiron saw his questioning look, and called the young 
 lad to him. 
 
 "Odysseus," said he, "this is my great-grandchild, 
 young Achilles, the son of King Peleus your host. 
 Something tells me that your life and his will in after- 
 times be strangely mingled ; whether as friends or as 
 foes, I cannot tell. You shall be friends to-day, at 
 least, and after a while you shall go out together, and 
 try your skill at archery. But, Achilles, you may go 
 now and play with your fellows : I have something 
 more to say to young Odysseus." 
 
 The lad turned, and left the room as gracefully as he 
 had entered. Then Cheiron turned again to Odysseus 
 and the bard. 
 
 " I was telling you about my pupils," he said ; " and 
 I will speak of but one other, for there are reasons 
 why you should know his history. Peleus, the son of 
 iEacus and my loved daughter Endeis, was brought to 
 me by his mother from JEgina.. There was something 
 in the boy's face which showed that a strange, sad life 
 was to be his ; and, although he was not a promising 
 lad, yet when he left me to go with Jason to Colchis, 
 I felt great grief at losing him. But by and by, after 
 the heroes had returned, I heard that Peleus had done 
 many wicked things in JEg'ma., and that he had been 
 driven into exile for his crimes. He went first to Ceyx 
 in Thessaly, a lonely wanderer, cast off and forsaken 
 by all his friends. And a story is told, that in his lone- 
 liness and his sorrow, he one day prayed to Zeus that 
 
At Old C heir on s School. 93 
 
 he would give him companions. And Zeus heard his 
 prayer, and great armies of ants were changed at once 
 into men ; and they did homage to Peleus, and became 
 his subjects, and hence he is still called the King 
 of the Myrmidons. Then he went to Phthia where 
 Eurytion reigned. And Eurytion purified him from 
 his crimes, and gave him his daughter Antigone in 
 wedlock, and with her the third of his kingdom. But 
 in an evil day they hunted the wild boar together in 
 the woods of Calydon, and Peleus unwittingly slew his 
 friend with an ill-aimed arrow. Then he fled from 
 the people of Phthia, and came to Iolcos, where Acas- 
 tus, the son of old Pelias, ruled. And Acastus wel- 
 comed him kindly, and purified him from the stain of 
 Eurytion's death, and gave him of the best of all that 
 he had, and entertained him for a long time as his 
 guest. But Astydamia, the wife of King Acastus, 
 falsely accused Peleus of another crime, and besought 
 her husband to slay him. Then the heart of Acastus 
 was sad, for he would not shed the blood of one who 
 was his guest. But he persuaded Peleus to join him in 
 hunting wild beasts in the woods of Pelion ; for he 
 hoped that then some way might open for him to rid 
 himself of the unfortunate man. All day long they 
 toiled up and down the slopes ; they climbed the steep 
 cliffs ; they forced their way through brakes and briery 
 thickets ; and at last Peleus was so overwearied that 
 he sank down on a bed of moss, and fell asleep. Then 
 Acastus slyly took his weapons from him, and left him 
 
94 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 there alone and unarmed, hoping that the wild beasts 
 would find and slay him. When Peleus awoke, he 
 saw himself surrounded by mountain robbers ; he felt 
 for his sword, but it was gone ; even his shield was 
 nowhere to be found. He called aloud to Acastus, but 
 the king was dining at that moment in Iolcos. I 
 heard his cry, however; I knew his voice, and I has- 
 tened to his aid. The robbers fled when they saw me 
 coming ; and I led my dear but erring grandson back to 
 my cavern, where the days of his boyhood and inno- 
 cence had been spent. 
 
 " But I see that the sun is sinking in the west. I 
 will say no more until after we have partaken of food." 
 
 With these words Cheiron arose, and left the room. 
 Odysseus, anxious to become acquainted with the lads, 
 arose also, and walked out into the open air. Achilles 
 was waiting for him just outside the door, and the two 
 boys were soon talking with each other as if they had 
 long been friends. 
 
ADVENTURE VIII. 
 
 THE GOLDEN APPLE. 
 
 After the evening meal had been eaten and the cave- 
 hall set in order, the lads brought armloads of dry sticks 
 and twigs, and threw them upon the fire. And the 
 flame leaped up, and shone upon all around with a ruddy 
 glow ; and the great cavern was emptied of gloom, and 
 was so filled with light and warmth that it seemed a fit 
 place for joy and pleasure. Old Cheiron sat upon his 
 high couch like a king upon his throne ; and the five 
 comely lads, with Odysseus, sat before him, while 
 Phemius the bard stood leaning against the wall. After 
 Cheiron had played a brief melody upon his harp, and 
 the boys had sung a pleasant song, the wise old master 
 thus began : — 
 
 " There is a cavern somewhere on Mount Pelion 
 larger by far and a thousand times more beautiful than 
 this ; but its doorway is hidden to mortals, and but few 
 men have ever stood beneath its vaulted roof. In that 
 cavern the ever-living ones who oversee the affairs of 
 men, once held high carnival; for they had met there 
 
 95 
 
96 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 at the marriage feast of King Peleus, and the woods 
 and rocks of mighty Pelion echoed with the sound of 
 their merry making. But wherefore should the mar- 
 riage feast of a mortal be held in such a place and with 
 guests so noble and so great ? I will tell you. 
 
 " After Peleus had escaped from the plot which King 
 Acastus had laid for him, he dwelt long time with me ; 
 for he feared to go down upon the plain lest the men 
 of Iolcos should seize him by order of Acastus, or the 
 folk of Phthia should kill him in revenge for old Eury- 
 tion's death. But the days seemed long to him, thus 
 shut out from fellowship with men, and the sun seemed 
 to move slowly in the heavens ; and often he would 
 walk around to the other side of the mountain, and 
 sitting upon a great rock, he would gaze for long hours 
 upon the purple waters of the sea. One morning as 
 thus he sat, he saw the sea nymph Thetis come up out 
 of the waves and walk upon the shore beneath him. 
 Fairer than a dream was she, — more beautiful than 
 any picture of nymph or goddess. She was clad in a 
 robe of sea-green silk, woven by the Naiads in their 
 watery grottos ; and there was a chaplet of pearls upon 
 her head, and sandals of sparkling silver were upon her 
 feet. 
 
 " As Peleus gazed upon this lovely creature, he heard 
 a voice whispering in his ear. It was the voice of 
 Pallas Athene^ 
 
 " ' Most luckless of mortal men,* she said, ' there is 
 recompense in store for those who repent of theif 
 
THE SILVER-FOOTED THETIS RISING FROM THE WAVES. 
 
The Golden Apple. 97 
 
 wrong-doing, and who, leaving the paths of error, turn 
 again to the road of virtue. The immortals have seen 
 thy sorrow for the evil deeds of thy youth, and they 
 have looked with pity upon thee in thy misfortunes. 
 And now thy days of exile and of sore punishment are 
 drawing to an end. Behold the silver-footed Thetis, 
 most beautiful of the nymphs of the sea, whom even 
 the immortals have wooed in vain ! She has been sent 
 to this shore, to be won and wedded by thee.' 
 
 " Peleus looked up to see the speaker of these words, 
 but he beheld only a blue cloud resting above the 
 mountain-top ; he turned his eyes downward again, and, 
 to his grief, the silver-footed Thetis had vanished in the 
 waves. All day he sat and waited for her return, but 
 she came not. When darkness began to fall he sought 
 me in my cave-hall, and told me what he had seen and 
 heard ; and I taught him bow to win the sea nymph for 
 his bride. 
 
 " So when the sun again gilded the crags of Pelion, 
 brave Peleus hid himself among the rocks close by 
 the sea-washed shore, and waited for the coming of the 
 silver-footed lady of the sea. In a little time she rose, 
 beautiful as the star of morning, from the waves. She 
 sat down upon the beach, and dallied with her golden 
 tresses, and sang sweet songs of a happy land in the 
 depths of the sounding sea. Peleus, bearing in mind 
 what I had taught him, arose from his hiding-place, and 
 caught the beauteous creature in his arms. In vain 
 did she struggle to leap into the waves. Seven times 
 
98 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 she changed her form as he held her : by turns she 
 changed into a fountain of water, into a cloud of mist, 
 into a burning flame, and into a senseless rock. But 
 Peleus held her fast; and she changed then into a 
 tawny lion, and then into a tall tree, and lastly she took 
 her own matchless form again. 
 
 " And Peleus held the lovely Thetis by the hand, and 
 they walked long time together upon the beach, while 
 the birds sang among the leafy trees on Pelion's slopes, 
 and the dolphins sported in the sparkling waters at their 
 feet ; and Peleus wooed the silver-footed lady, and won 
 her love, and she promised to be his bride. Then the 
 immortals were glad ; and they fitted up the great cavern 
 on Mount Pelion for a banquet hall, and made therein 
 a wedding feast, such as was never seen before. The 
 vaulted roof of the cavern was decked with gems which 
 shone like the stars of heaven ; a thousand torches, 
 held by lovely mountain nymphs, flamed from the niches 
 in the high walls ; and upon the floor of polished marble, 
 tables for ten thousand guests were ranged. 
 
 " When the wedding feast was ready, all those who 
 live on high Olympus, and all the immortals who dwell 
 upon the earth, came to rejoice with King Peleus and 
 his matchless bride ; and they brought rich presents for 
 the bridegroom, such as were never given to another 
 man. They gave him a suit of armor, rich and fair, a 
 wonder to behold, which lame Hephaestus with rare 
 skill had wrought and fashioned. Poseidon bestowed on 
 him the deathless horses, Balios and Xanthos, and a 
 
The Golden Apple. 99 
 
 deftly-wrought chariot with trimmings of gold. And I, 
 one of the least of the guests, gave him an ashen spear 
 which I had cut on Pelion's top, and fashioned with my 
 own hands. 
 
 " At the table sat Zeus, the father of gods and men ; 
 and his wife, the white-armed Here ; and smile-loving 
 Aphrodite ; and gray-eyed Pallas Athene 1 ; and all the 
 wisest and the fairest of the immortals. The Nereides, 
 nymphs of the sea, danced in honor of Thetis their 
 sister ; and the Muses sang their sweetest songs ; and 
 silver-bowed Apollo played upon the lyre. The Fates, 
 too, were there : sad Clotho, twirling her spindle ; un- 
 loving Lachesis, with wrinkled lips ready to speak the 
 fatal word; and pitiless Atropos, holding in her hand 
 the unsparing shears. And around the table passed the 
 youthful and joy-giving Hebe, pouring out rich draughts 
 of nectar for the guests. 
 
 "Yet there was one among all the immortals who 
 nad not been invited to the wedding ; it was Eris, the 
 daughter of War and Hate. Her scowling features, 
 and her hot and hasty manners, were ill-suited to grace 
 a feast where all should be mirth and gladness ; yet in 
 her evil heart she planned to be avenged for the slight 
 which had been put upon her. While the merry-making 
 was at its height, and the company were listening to 
 the music from Apollo's lyre, she came unseen into the 
 hall, and threw a golden apple upon the table. No one 
 knew whence the apple came ; but on it were written 
 these words, ■ For the Fairest.' 
 
lOO A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " * To whom does it belong ? ' asked Zeus, stroking 
 his brows in sad perplexity. 
 
 "The music ceased, and mirth and jollity fled at once 
 from the banquet. The torches, which lit up the scene, 
 flickered and smoked ; the lustre of the gems in the 
 vaulted roof was dimmed ; dark clouds canopied the 
 great hall : for Discord had taken her place at the table, 
 uninvited and unwelcome though she was. 
 
 "'The apple belongs to me,' said Here, trying to 
 snatch it; 'for I am the queen, and gods and men 
 honor me as having no peer on earth.' 
 
 " ' Not so ! ' cried white-armed Aphrodite. ' With me 
 
 \well Love and Joy ; and not only do gods and m» 
 
 ^ng my praises, but all nature rejoices in my presence. 
 The apple is mine, and I will have it ! ' 
 
 "Then Athene joined in the quarrel. ' What is it to 
 be a queen,' said she, 'if at the same time one lacks 
 that good temper which sweetens life ? What is it to 
 have a handsome form and face, while the mind is un- 
 couth and ill-looking ? Beauty of mind is better than 
 beauty of face ; for the former is immortal, while the 
 latter fades and dies. Hence no one has a better right 
 than I to be called the fairest.' 
 
 "Then the strife spread among the guests in the hall, 
 each taking sides with the goddess that he loved best; 
 and, where peace and merriment had reigned, now hot 
 words and bitter wrangling were heard. And had not 
 Zeus bidden them keep silence, thus putting an end to 
 the quarrel, all Pel ion would have been rent, and the 
 
The Golden Apple. 101 
 
 earth shaken to its centre in the melee that would 
 have followed. 
 
 " ' Let us waste no words over this matter,' he said. 
 ' It is not for the immortals to say who of their num- 
 ber is most beautiful. But on the slopes of Mount Ida, 
 far across the sea, the fairest of the sons of men — 
 Paris, the son of Trojan Priam — keeps his flocks; let 
 him judge who is fairest, and let the apple be hers to 
 whom he gives it.' 
 
 "Then Hermes, the swift-footed messenger, arose, 
 and led the three goddesses over sea and land to distant 
 Ida, where Paris, with no thought of the wonderful life 
 which lay before him, piped on his shepherd's reeds, 
 and tended his flock of sheep." 
 
 Here Cheiron paused in his story ; and the five lads, 
 who had heard it oftentimes before, bade him a kind 
 good-night, and withdrew into an inner chamber to 
 pass the hours in sleep. When more wood had been 
 thrown upon the fire, and the flames leaped up high 
 and bright towards the roof of the cave, Odysseus 
 and Phemius sat down again before the wise old mas- 
 ter, and asked him to finish the tale which he had 
 begun. 
 
 "But first tell us," said Odysseus, "about that Paris, 
 who was to award the golden apple to the one whom 
 he should deem the fairest." 
 
 Then Cheiron smiled, and went on thus with his 
 story: — 
 
102 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 "On the other side of the sea there stands a city, 
 rich and mighty, the like of which there is none in 
 Hellas. There an old man, named Priam, rules over a 
 happy and peace-loving people. He dwells in a great 
 palace of polished marble, on a hill overlooking the 
 plain ; and his granaries are stored with corn, and his 
 flocks and herds are pastured on the hills and mountain 
 slopes behind the city. Many sons has King Priam ; 
 and they are brave and noble youths, well worthy of 
 such a father. The eldest of these sons is Hector, who, 
 the Trojans hope, will live to bring great honor to his 
 native land. Just before the second son was born, a 
 strange thing troubled the family of old Priam. The 
 queen had dreamed that her babe had turned into a 
 firebrand, which burned up the walls and the high 
 towers of Troy, and left but smouldering ashes where 
 once the proud city stood. She told the king her 
 dream ; and when the child was born, they called a 
 soothsayer, who could foresee the mysteries of the 
 future, and they asked him what the vision meant. 
 
 " ' It means,' said he, 'that this babe, if he lives, shall 
 be a firebrand in Troy, and shall turn its walls and its 
 high towers into heaps ot smouldering ashes.' 
 
 "'But what shall be done with the child, that he 
 may not do this terrible thing ? " asked Priam, greatly 
 sorrowing, for the babe was very beautiful. 
 
 "'Do not suffer that he shall live,' answered the 
 soothsayer. 
 
 " But Priam, the gentlest and most kind-hearted ot 
 
The Golden Apple. 103 
 
 men, could not bear to harm the babe. So he called 
 Archelaus, his master shepherd, and bade him take 
 the helpless child into the thick woods, which grow 
 high up on the slopes of Ida, and there to leave him 
 alone. The wild beasts that roam among those woods, 
 he thought, would doubtless find him, or, in any case, 
 he could not live long without care and nourishment ; 
 and thus the dangerous brand would be quenched while 
 yet it was scarcely a spark. 
 
 "The shepherd did as he was bidden, although it 
 cost his heart many a sharp pang thus to deal barbar- 
 ously with the innocent. He laid the smiling infant, 
 wrapped in its broidered tunic, close by the foot of an 
 oak, and then hurried away that he might not hear 
 its cries. But the Dryads, who haunt the woods and 
 groves, saw the babe, and pitied its helplessness, and 
 cared for it so that it did not die. Some brought it 
 yellow honey from the stores of the wild bees ; some fed 
 it with milk from the white goats that pastured on the 
 mountainside ; and others stood as sentinels around 
 it, guarding it from the wolves and bears. Thus five 
 clays passed, and Archelaus the shepherd, who could 
 not forget the babe, came cautiously to the spot to see 
 if, mayhap, even its broidered cloak had been spared 
 by the beasts. Sorrowful and shuddering he glanced 
 toward the foot of the tree. To his surprise, the babe 
 was still there ; it looked up and smiled, and stretched 
 its fat hands toward him. The shepherd's heart would 
 not let him turn away the second time. He took the 
 
104 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 child in his arras, and carried it to his own humble home 
 in the valley, where he cared for it and brought it up 
 as his own son. 
 
 " The boy grew to be very tall and very handsome ; 
 and he was so brave, and so helpful to the shepherds 
 around Mount Ida, that they called him Alexandros, or 
 the helper of men ; but his foster-father named him 
 Paris. And as he tended his sheep in the mountain 
 dells, he met CEnone, the fairest of the river-maidens, 
 guileless and pure as the waters of the stream by whose 
 banks she loved to wander. Day after day he sat with 
 her in the shadow of her woodland home, and talked of 
 innocence and beauty, and of a life of sweet content- 
 ment, and of love ; and the maiden listened to him with 
 wide-open eyes and a heart full of trustfulness and faith. 
 Then, by and by, Paris and QEnone were wedded ; and 
 their little cottage in the mountain glen was the fairest 
 and happiest spot in Ilios. The days sped swiftly by, 
 and neither of them dreamed that any sorrow was in 
 store for them ; and to CEnone her shepherd-husband 
 was all the world, because he was so noble and brave 
 and handsome and gentle. 
 
 " One warm summer afternoon, Paris sat in the shade 
 of a tree at the foot of Mount Ida, while his flocks were 
 pasturing upon the hillside before him. The bees 
 were humming lazily among the flowers ; the cicadas 
 were chirping among the leaves above his head ; and 
 now and then a bird twittered softly among the bushes 
 behind him. All else was still, as if enjoying to the 
 
The Golden Apple. 105 
 
 full the delicious calm of that pleasant day. Paris was 
 fashioning a slender reed into a shepherd's flute ; while 
 CEnone, sitting in the deeper shadows of some cluster- 
 ing vines, was busy with some simple piece of needle- 
 work. A sound as of sweet music caused the young 
 shepherd to raise his eyes. Before him stood the four 
 immortals, Here, Athen6, Aphrodite, and Hermes the 
 messenger ; their faces shone with a dazzling radiance, 
 and they were fairer than any tongue can describe. At 
 their feet rare flowers sprang up, crocuses and aspho- 
 dels and white lilies ; and the air was filled with the 
 odor of orange blossoms. Paris, scarce knowing what 
 he did, arose to greet them. No handsomer youth ever 
 stood in the presence of beauty. Straight as a moun- 
 tain pine was he ; a leopard skin hung carelessly upon 
 his shoulders ; his head was bare, but his locks clus- 
 tered round his temples in sunny curls, and formed fit 
 framework for his fair brows. 
 
 "Then Hermes spoke first : ' Paris, we have come to 
 seek thy help ; there is strife among the folk who dwell 
 on Mount Olympus. Here are Here, Athen6, and Aph- 
 rodite, each claiming to be the fairest, and each clamor- 
 ing for this prize, this golden apple. Now we pray that 
 you will judge this matter, and give the apple to the 
 one whom you may deem most beautiful.' 
 
 " Then Here began her plea at once : ' I know that 
 I am the fairest,' she said, 'for I am queen, and mine 
 it is to rule among gods and men. Give me the 
 prize, and you shall have wealth, and a kingdom, and 
 
106 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 great glory; and men in after-times shall sing your 
 praises.' 
 
 " And Paris was half tempted to give the apple, with- 
 out further ado, to Here the proud queen. But gray- 
 eyed Athene spoke : ' There is that, fair youth, which 
 is better than riches or honor or great glory. Listen 
 to me, and I will give thee wisdom and a pure heart ; 
 and thy life shall be crowned with peace, and sweetened 
 with love, and made strong by knowledge. And though 
 men may not sing of thee in after-times, thou shalt find 
 lasting happiness in the answer of a good conscience 
 towards all things.' 
 
 "Then CEnone whispered from her place among the 
 leaves, 'Give the prize to Athene 1 ; she is the fairest.' 
 And Paris would have placed the golden apple in her 
 hand, had not Aphrodite stepped quickly forward, and 
 in the sweetest, merriest tones, addressed him. 
 
 " ' You may look at my face, and judge for yourself as 
 to whether I am fair,' said she, laughing, and tossing 
 her curls. ' All I shall say is this : Give me the prize, 
 and you shall have for your wife the most beautiful 
 woman in the world.' 
 
 " The heart of CEnone stood still as Paris placed the 
 apple in Aphrodite's hand ; and a nameless dread came 
 over her, as if the earth were sinking beneath her feet. 
 But the next moment the blood came back to her cheeks, 
 and she breathed free and strong again ; for she heard 
 Paris say, ' I have a wife, CEnone, who to me is the 
 loveliest of mortals, and I care not for your offer ; yet 
 
The Golden Apple. 107 
 
 I give to you the apple, for I know that you are the 
 fairest among the deathless ones who live on high 
 Olympus.' 
 
 " On the very next day it happened that King Priam 
 sat thoughtfully in his palace, and all his boys and 
 girls — nearly fifty in number — were about him. His 
 mind turned sadly to the little babe whom he had sent 
 away, many years ago, to die alone on wooded Ida. 
 And he said to himself, ' The child has been long dead, 
 and yet no feast has been given to the gods that they 
 may make his little spirit glad in the shadowy land of 
 Hades. This must not be neglected longer. Within 
 three days a feast must be made, and we will hold 
 games in his honor.' 
 
 " Then he called his servants, and bade them go to 
 the pastures on Mount Ida, and choose from the herds 
 that were there the fattest and handsomest bull, 
 to be given as a prize to the winner in the games. 
 And he proclaimed through all Ilios, that on the third 
 day there would be a great feast in Troy, and games « 
 would be held in honor of the little babe who had died 
 twenty years before. Now, when the servants came 
 to Mount Ida, they chose a bull for which Paris had 
 long cared, and which he loved more than any other. 
 And he would not let the beast be driven from the 
 pasture until it was agreed that he might go to the city 
 with it and contend in the games for the prize. But 
 CEnone, the river nymph, wept and prayed him not 
 toga 
 
108 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " ' Leave not the pleasant pasture lands of Ida, even 
 for a day,' said she ; " for my heart tells me that you 
 will not return.' 
 
 " ' Think not so, my fair one,' said Paris. ' Did not 
 Aphrodite promise that the most beautiful woman in 
 the world shall be my wife ? And who is more beauti- 
 ful than my own CEnone ? Dry now your tears ; for 
 when I have won the prizes in the games I will come 
 back to you, and never leave you again.' 
 
 " Then the grief of CEnone waxed still greater. ' If 
 you will go,' she cried, ' then hear my warning ! 
 Long years shall pass ere you shall come again to 
 wooded Ida, and the hearts which now are young shall 
 grow old and feeble by reason of much sorrow. Cruel 
 war and many dire disasters shall overtake you, and 
 death shall be nigh unto you ; and then CEnone, 
 although long forgotten by you, will hasten to your 
 side, to help and to heal and to forgive, that so the old 
 love may live again. Farewell ! ' 
 
 " But Paris kissed his wife, and hastened, light of 
 heart, to Troy. How could it be otherwise but that, 
 in the games which followed, the handsome young shep- 
 herd should carry off all the prizes ? 
 
 " ' Who are you ? ' asked the king. 
 
 " ' My name is Paris,' answered the shepherd, ' and 
 I feed the flocks and herds on wooded Ida.' 
 
 " Then Hector, full of wrath because of his own fail- 
 ure to win a prize, came forward to dispute with Paris. 
 
 "'Stand there, Hector,' cried old Priam; 'stand 
 
The Golden Apple. 109 
 
 close to the young shepherd, and let us look at you ! ' 
 Then turning to the queen, he asked, 'Did you ever 
 see two so nearly alike ? The shepherd is fairer and 
 of slighter build, it is true ; but they have the same 
 eye, the same frown, the same smile, the same motion 
 of the shoulders, the same walk. Ah, what if the 
 young babe did not die after all ? ' 
 
 " Then Priam's daughter Cassandra, who has the gift 
 of prophecy, cried out, ' Oh, blind of eye and heart, 
 that you cannot see in this young shepherd the child 
 whom you sent to sleep the sleep of death on Ida's 
 wooded slopes ! ' 
 
 " And so it came about, that Paris was taken into his 
 father's house, and given the place of honor which was 
 his by right. And he forgot GEnone his fair young 
 wife, and left her to pine in loneliness among the 
 woods and in the narrow dells of sunny Ida." ' 
 
 By this time the fire had burned low upon the 
 hearth, and Cheiron the master would fain have ended 
 his talk. But Odysseus was anxious to hear more. 
 
 "To-morrow," said he, "we must go back to Iolcos, 
 for perchance the ships of Peleus may then be ready to 
 saiL So tell us, I pray you, yet more about that 
 strange wedding feast in the cavern halls of Pelion." 
 
 "There is little more to tell," said the master. 
 "After the feast, King Peleus went down with his 
 bride into Phthia ; and there his Myrmidons, who had 
 
 1 See Note 8 at the end of this volume. 
 
no A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 waited so long for his coming, rallied around him, 
 ready to help him in any undertaking. And they 
 marched upon Iolcos, and entered the gates, carrying 
 all before them; and they slew King Acastus, and set 
 Peleus on his throne. Thus ended this hero's days of 
 exile ; and now for seven years he has ruled Iolcos and 
 Phthia both wisely and well ; yet, though you have 
 found him at this season of the year in Iolcos, he 
 loves best his old home of Phthia, where dwell his 
 Myrmidons." 
 
 " Please tell me about his son, fair young Achilles, 
 who is here in your hall," said Odysseus. 
 
 Cheiron answered briefly by telling him how the 
 young lad's mother, the sea nymph Thetis, had longed 
 to make her son immortal ; and how it was said that 
 she each night threw him into the fire to purge away 
 whatever mortal stains might cling to him ; and how 
 each day she anointed him with ambrosia, and sang 
 him to sleep with sweet lullabies of the sea. 
 
 "But one night," added Cheiron, "King Peleus hap- 
 pened to see the babe lying in the fire ; and in his 
 fright he cried out, and snatched him from the coals. 
 Then Thetis sorrowfully gave up her plan ; and the 
 boy was sent to me, that I might train him in all that 
 goes to the making of a man. There are those who 
 say that I feed the lad on the hearts of lions, and the 
 marrow of bears and wild boars ; and those may be- 
 lieve the story who wish to do so. But I have lived 
 long enough to know that there are other and better 
 
The Golden Apple. 1 1 1 
 
 ways of training up heroes and fitting them for the 
 strife of battle." 
 
 And thus the long talk with Cheiron, the wise mas- 
 ter, ended ; and Odysseus retired to his couch, and was 
 soon dreaming of far-away Ithaca and of his anxious 
 mother, who was even then hoping for his return. 
 
 The next morning the lad and his tutor went down 
 the mountain ; and, following the pathway which Jason 
 had taken when he went to claim his birthright of 
 Pelias, they came, in good time, back to Iolcos by the 
 sea. There they found that a ship was just making 
 ready to sail for Corinth ; and bidding a hasty farewell to 
 King Peleus, and to bold Echion, who still tarried there, 
 they embarked, and were soon well on their way. The 
 voyage was a long and hard one ; but kind Athene 
 favored them, and Poseidon gave them smooth waters 
 and many pleasant days upon the sea. Nor were they 
 delayed at Corinth ; for they found waiting there a 
 ship, which Laertes had sent out on purpose to meet 
 them and bring them home. And so, before the 
 autumn had closed, Odysseus, much wiser and stronger 
 than he was when he departed, gazed with glad eyes 
 once more upon the shores of sea-girt Ithaca. 
 
ADVENTURE IX. 
 
 THE SWINEHERD. 
 
 When Odysseus stepped ashore upon the sandy 
 beach of Ithaca, the good people of the town, both 
 young and old, had gathered there to welcome him ; 
 and they sang a song of greeting like that with which 
 the) were wont to meet their returning heroes. He 
 staid only a moment to speak with them. With winged 
 feet he hastened to the hall where his queenly mother 
 waited for his coming. She threw her arms about him, 
 and in the fulness of her joy wept aloud ; and she kissed 
 his head and his eyes and both his hands, and wel- 
 comed him as one saved from death. 
 
 " Thou hast come at last, Odysseus," she said. 
 " The light is not more sweet to me. I feared that I 
 should never see thee more, when I heard that thou 
 hadst gone from Parnassus to distant Pelion. Come 
 now, and sit before me as of yore, and let me look into 
 those eyes which have been so long time away." 
 
 And Laertes, too, folded the boy in his arms, and 
 kissed him, and plied him with a thousand questions 
 which he could not answer. Then, in the halls of the 
 
The Swineherd. 113 
 
 king, a feast was made ready, and the day was given 
 over to music and merry-making ; and all the people 
 joined in offering thanks to Pallas Athene^ who had 
 brought the wanderer safe home to his friends and his 
 kindred. 
 
 When the evening had come, and the guests had 
 gone to their own homes, Odysseus sat upon a low 
 stool at his mother's feet, while she asked him many 
 questions about her aged sire Autolycus, and about the 
 dear home of her girlhood on the farther side of Mount 
 Parnassus. And he told her of all that she asked him, 
 and of the wonderful things that he had seen and heard 
 in far-away lands and seas. 
 
 " But were you not afraid that evil would befall you, 
 and that your eyes would never more behold fair Ithaca ? " 
 asked his mother, tenderly stroking his yellow hair. 
 
 "Nightly I prayed to Pallas Athene," answered the 
 lad, "and she watched kindly over me every hour. 
 Who would be afraid when shielded and led by ^0 
 great a friend ? Then, too, good Phemius questioned 
 the Pythian oracle about me ; and the answer was such 
 as to make me sure of safety. It was this : — 
 
 *To home and kindred he shall safe return ere long, 
 With scars well-won, and greeted with triumphal song.' " 
 
 "Well," said Laertes, "the oracle doubtless spoke 
 the truth. We know that you have returned to your 
 home, and that you have been greeted with songs, but 
 I fear you have yet to gain the scars." 
 
ii4 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " Not so, father," answered Odysseus. And then he 
 showed them the great white scar which the tusk of the 
 wild boar had made upon his knee ; and he told them 
 of the famous hunt in the woods of Parnassus, and of 
 the days of pain and enforced quiet which he had 
 afterward spent on an invalid's couch. And all those 
 who listened to his story were struck with the wisdom 
 of his thoughts ; and they wondered at the choice 
 beauty of the words which fell from his lips, soft and 
 persuasive like the flakes of snow on a quiet day in 
 winter. 
 
 After this, many pleasant days came and passed. 
 The simple-hearted folk of Ithaca went about their 
 tasks as of yore, — some tending their flocks in the 
 mountain pastures, some gathering the autumn fruits 
 from the overladen trees, and some twirling the spindle 
 or plying the loom in their humble homes. King 
 Laertes himself worked early and late in his vineyards 
 or in his well-tilled orchard grounds ; and Odysseus was 
 often with him, as busy as he, tending his own trees 
 and vines. For, long time before, when he was but a 
 little child, the boy had walked through these grounds 
 with his father, and had asked the names of the trees. 
 And Laertes had not only answered the prattler, but 
 had given him a whole small orchard for his own : of 
 pear trees, thirteen ; of apple trees, ten ; of fig trees, 
 forty ; and he promised to give him fifty rows of vines, 
 each of which ripened at a different time, with all man- 
 ner of clusters on their boughs. 
 
The Swineherd. 115 
 
 Sometimes Odysseus went out with other boys of his 
 age, to ramble among the hills and on the wooded 
 mountain slopes. Sometimes they played at ball in the 
 open field, or loitered around the flowing spring whence 
 the people of the town drew water. This well had been 
 digged and walled by Ithacus and Neritus, the first 
 settlers of the island ; and close by it was a thicket 
 of reeds and alders, growing green and rank from the 
 boggy soil ; while, on the rock from beneath which the 
 ice-cold water gushed, an altar had been built, where 
 all wayfarers laid some offering for the nymphs. This 
 was a lovely spot ; and in the heat of the day, the boys 
 would often sit in the cool shade of the trees, and play 
 a quiet game with pebbles, or talk about the noble 
 deeds of the heroes. 
 
 Once they wandered far over the hills to the sheltered 
 woodland where the swine of Laertes were kept. There, 
 near the rock called Corax, was the spring of Arethusa, 
 around which grew many great oak trees, yielding 
 abundance of acorns. There the slave Eumasus lived in 
 a humble lodge of his own building, and fed and tended 
 his master's swine, far from the homes of other men. 
 
 When the swineherd saw Odysseus, and knew that 
 he was the master's son, he ran to welcome him and his 
 comrades to his lowly home. He led them to the lodge, 
 and took them in, and strewed fragrant leaves upon 
 the floor, and stirred the blazing fire upon the hearth. 
 Then he hastened to the sties where the fattest young 
 pigs were Denned. Two of these he killed and dressed ; 
 
n6 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 and when he had cut them in pieces, he roasted the 
 choicest parts on spits before the fire. Then he set 
 the smoking food upon a table before Odysseus and his 
 comrades, and sprinkled it all over with white barley- 
 meal. After this, he mixed honey-sweet wine with 
 water in a wooden bowl, and sat down to the feast with 
 them. Right heartily did they eat and drink, and many 
 were the pleasant jests that were passed among them. 
 When they had finished, Odysseus said, — 
 
 "Swineherd Eumaeus, you have fed us right nobly, 
 and there is nothing more welcome to tired and hungry 
 boys than plenty of well-seasoned food. Surely one 
 who can serve so royally as you have done was not 
 born a slave ? " 
 
 " Nor indeed was I," answered Eumaeus. " In my 
 childhood I was a prince, noble as yourself. But the 
 Fates bring strange fortunes to some men, and strangely 
 have I been tossed about in the world." 
 
 " Do tell us," said Odysseus, " how this great change 
 was made in your life. Was the goodly town in which 
 your father and your lady mother dwelt, laid waste by 
 an enemy ? Or did unfriendly men find you in the 
 fields alone, and sell you to him who would pay the 
 goodliest price ? " 
 
 " Since you ask me for my story, young master," said 
 Eumaeus, " I will tell it you. But sit you here upon 
 this couch of goat skins while you listen, for I know 
 that your long walk has wearied you. 
 
 " Far out in the sea there is an island called Syria, 
 
The Swineherd. 117 
 
 above which the sun turns in its course. It is not very 
 thickly peopled, but it is rich in vineyards and wheat- 
 fields, and in pastures where thousands of cattle graze. 
 There no one ever goes hungry for lack of food, and 
 sickness never comes ; but when men grow old, then 
 silver-bowed Apollo, and Artemis his huntress sister, 
 strike them with their noiseless arrows, and they cease 
 to live. In that island stand two cities, fair and rich ; 
 and over them both my father is sole lord and king. 
 There, in his white halls where care never enters, 
 my infancy was passed ; and never did I dream oi 
 the hard lot which the pitiless Fates had decreed 
 for me. 
 
 " One day there came to our island some Phoenician 
 merchants, shrewd seafaring men, intent on trade and 
 profit. In their ship they brought countless trinkets 
 to barter with our folk for corn and wine ; and they 
 moored their vessel in the harbor close to the shore. 
 In my father's house there dwelt a Phoenician slave- 
 woman, tall and fair, and skilled in needlework. And 
 when the merchants knew that she spoke their lan- 
 guage, they asked her who she was and from whence 
 she came. 
 
 " ' In Sidon I was born,' she answered, ' and Arybas 
 my father was one of the wealthiest of Sidonian mer- 
 chants. Once as I was walking on the shore, a band of 
 Taphian sea-robbers seized me unawares, and carried 
 me in their dark-hulled ship across the sea. They 
 brought me to this far-distant island, and sold me, for 
 
1 1 8 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 much gold, to the man who lives in yonder palace.' 
 And she pointed to my father's lofty dwelling. 
 
 " Then the merchants asked her if she would return 
 with them to Sidon, where she might again behold her 
 father and mother, and the sweet home of her girlhood. 
 And she consented, only asking that they pledge them 
 selves to take her safely home. 
 
 "'Now say no more,' she said; 'and should any of 
 you meet me on the road or by the well, hold your 
 tongues, and let no word be spoken between us. But 
 when you have sold your goods, and have filled your 
 ship with corn and wine, send some one to the house 
 who shall tell me secretly. Then I will hie me to your 
 swift-sailing vessel, bringing gold wherewith to pay my 
 fare, and, if fortune favor, even more than gold. For I 
 am nurse to the little son of my master, a cunning prat- 
 tler whom I often take with me in my walks. I will 
 bring him on board your ship, and when you have 
 reached some rich foreign land you can sell him for a 
 goodly price.' 
 
 " And thus having settled upon a plan, the Phoeni- 
 cian woman went back to my father's halls ; and the 
 merchants staid a whole year in our harbor, and filled 
 their ship with grain. But when at last they were 
 ready to sail, they sent a messenger to tell the woman. 
 He came to our house with many trinkets, bracelets, 
 and golden necklaces, which pleased the eyes of my lady 
 mother and her maidens. And while they were looking, 
 and asking the price, he signed to my Phoenician nurse, 
 
The Swineherd. 119 
 
 and straightway gathered up his goods, and hastened 
 back to his fellows. When the sun went down, the 
 woman took my hand, and led me from the house as 
 she had often done before. Thoughtlessly I followed 
 her to the shore where the fast-sailing ship was moored. 
 The Phoenicians took us both on board ; they hoisted 
 the broad sail, and a brisk wind quickly carried us far 
 away from my home and friends. On the seventh day, 
 Artemis the archer queen smote the woman with her 
 silent arrows, and her eyes saw no more the sweet light 
 of heaven. Then the crew cast her forth into the sea, 
 to be food for fishes and the sea calves ; and I was left 
 alone and stricken with grief and fear. But the swift 
 ship brought us ere long to Ithaca, and there those 
 who had stolen me bartered me to Laertes for a 
 goodly price. And that is why I am your father's 
 thrall, and dwell here lonely underneath these shel- 
 tering oaks." : 
 
 Such was the tale which the swineherd told Odysseus 
 and his young companions as they sat together in the 
 lodge. 
 
 "I pity thee, Eumseus," said the lad. "Thy story is 
 indeed a sad one ; and, could I do so, I would gladly 
 send thee back to far-off Syria where thy mother sor- 
 rows even yet for thee." 
 
 " Alas ! " answered the swineherd. " There is no 
 hope. No ship will ever sail through the unknown sea- 
 ways which lead to my boyhood's home. My life must 
 
 1 See Note q at the end of this volume. 
 
1 20 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 be spent in this spot ; yet I am happy in knowing that 
 my master is the kindest of men, and that I shall be well 
 provided for. Even a slave may find enjoyment if his 
 heart be right ; for it is the mind, and not the force of 
 outward things, that makes us rich and free." 
 
ADVENTURE X. 
 
 THE SEA ROBBERS OF MESSENE. 
 
 Five years passed quietly by, and brought few 
 changes to Ithaca. The flocks still grazed in their 
 mountain pastures ; the orchard trees still bent under 
 their loads of ripening fruit ; the vines still yielded their 
 treasures of purple and red. The simple-hearted island- 
 ers arose each day with the coming of the dawn ; they 
 went about their tasks with cheerfulness ; they sang, 
 and danced, and ate their accustomed meals, and then 
 with the coming of night they lay down to sleep : to 
 them, all days were alike, and life was but one pleasant 
 round of duties. But King Laertes, as he grew older, 
 sought more and more the quiet of his farm and garden ; 
 and, for the most part, he allowed his little kingdom 
 to take care of itself, and his subjects to do as they 
 pleased. 
 
 And in these five years young Odysseus had become 
 a man. He had grown not so much in stature as in 
 wisdom, nor yet so much in size of limb and body as 
 in strength of bone and muscle. There was nothing in 
 his face or figure that could be called handsome, and 
 
122 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 yet he was the pride of Ithaca. For, in all the deeds 
 and feats most worthy of men, he was without a peer. 
 In wrestling and leaping, in rowing and swimming, in 
 shooting with the bow, and in handling the heavy spear, 
 there was no one that could equal him. He was a very 
 master of words ; and when his speech warmed into 
 earnestness, the dullest hearer was spell-bound by his 
 eloquence. Even to the Achaian mainland and among 
 the islands of the sea, he was famed for his far-reach- 
 ing shrewdness. Indeed, his craftiness oftentimes out 
 weighed his sense of honor ; for, in that early day, to 
 outwit one's fellows even by fraud was thought to be 
 praiseworthy. 
 
 One evening in summer, four strange ships, with long 
 black hulls, sailed into the harbor at Ithaca, and were 
 moored in the deep water close to the shore. They 
 were found to be manned by crews of seafarers from 
 the low-lying shores of Messene ; and their captain 
 brought greetings from Orsilochus their king, and 
 offered to barter silver and merchandise for Ithacan 
 wool and long-horned sheep. Laertes welcomed the 
 strangers warmly ; and as the night was near, he advised 
 that early on the morrow they should bring their wares 
 ashore, and allow his people to bargain for what they 
 needed most. And soon darkness covered all the ways, 
 and Ithaca was wrapped in slumber. 
 
 When the gray dawn peeped into his chamber, and 
 awakened him, the king arose, and looked out towards 
 *ihe harbor. Not one of the black-hulled ships could 
 
The Sea Robbers of Messene. 123 
 
 he see. They had silently cast their moorings, and had 
 stolen away through the darkness. While the king 
 looked and wondered, an old shepherd with frightened 
 face and gestures of alarm came running in breathless 
 haste to the palace. In a few words he told what 
 strange things had happened. By the light of the 
 waning moon, the sea rovers from Messene had sailed 
 around to a little cove where the pastures slope down 
 to the water's edge. There they had landed, and with- 
 out much ado had driven a whole flock of sheep aboard 
 their ships, — three hundred long-wooled ewes and 
 bleating lambs, the choicest of the fields. And they 
 had carried away not only these, but the six sleepy 
 shepherds whose duty it had been to guard them. 
 
 An alarm was quickly sounded, and the news was 
 passed from mouth to mouth until it was known to all. 
 The bravest men of Ithaca hastened to the shore, where 
 stood Odysseus and his father, ready to direct them. 
 Their fleetest vessels, lying high upon the beach, were 
 cleared ready to be launched. Five ships with vermil- 
 ion prows were pushed into the waves ; and each was 
 manned by a score of lusty rowers, and headed towards 
 the open sea. The long oars dipped into the water, as 
 if all were moved by a single hand ; and the vessels 
 sped out upon their errand, like dogs of the chase intent 
 upon a fleeing victim. 
 
 The sky was clear. The waves danced merrily in 
 the sunlight. The wind blew gently from the shore. 
 The crews of the Ithacan ships bent to the oars like 
 
1 24 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 practised seamen ; but when they rounded the head- 
 lands at the foot of the bay, and came out upon the 
 open sea, they saw no trace of the pirate fleet, nor 
 even a single sail upon the laughing face of the deep. 
 Whether the men of Messene had pushed straight 
 homeward with their plunder, or whether they had put 
 into some other cove or inlet farther down the coast, 
 no one could guess. All that their pursuers could do 
 was to sail close along the shore, southward towards 
 Cephallenia, peering behind every jutting headland, 
 and into every sheltered nook, in hopes of coming upon 
 them. 
 
 Five days afterward, the red-prowed ships returned 
 to Ithaca. Nothing had been seen of the sea robbers : 
 nothing had been heard of the stolen flocks. 
 
 What was to be done ? The robbers were known to 
 be men of Messene, the subjects of Orsilochus. It 
 was no secret, that much of the wealth of Messene had 
 been gotten by the plunder and pillage of foreign 
 coasts ; but were the pirates of that country to be 
 allowed thus to rob their near neighbors and kinsfolk ? 
 Laertes called together a council of the chiefs and 
 elders, and asked them what it was best to do. 
 
 "We are a peaceful, home-loving people," said some 
 of the older men, "and it would neither be wise nor 
 pleasant to entangle ourselves in a war with a strong 
 king like Orsilochus. The loss of three hundred sheep 
 is not much where there are so many, and it is not 
 likely that the sea robbers will ever trouble us again. 
 
The Sea Robbers of Messene. 125 
 
 Let us go quietly back to our fields and homes, and 
 leave well enough alone." 
 
 But the young men would not listen to a plan so 
 tame and spiritless. They were eager, if they could 
 not recover what was their own, to take at least what 
 was of equal value from the Messenians. It would be 
 easy, they said, for a few stanch ships with well-chosen 
 crews to cross the sea-ways, and land by night upon the 
 rich coast of Messene ; there they could fill the roomy 
 holds of their vessels with fruit and grain ; and before 
 any one could hinder, they would sail safely back to 
 Ithaca laden with wealth far greater than three hundred 
 sheep. 
 
 Then Odysseus, though a mere youth among bearded 
 men, stood up before them, and said, — 
 
 "My good friends, I like neither the one plan nor 
 the other. It is but the part of a slave to suffer wrong 
 without striking back. It is but the part of a coward 
 to strike in the dark, as if fearing the enemy's face. 
 Why not send boldly to Messene, and demand either 
 the stolen sheep, or a fair price for them ? I myself 
 will undertake the business, and I promise you that 
 I will bring back to Ithaca gifts and goods worth twice 
 as much as the flock that has been taken." 
 
 The elders listened with favor to the young man's 
 words ; and, after further talk, it was settled that he 
 should go forthwith across the sea to claim the debt 
 which was due from the people of Messene. 
 
 The goodliest ship of all the Ithacan galleys was 
 
126 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 made ready for Odysseus. The needed stores of food 
 and drink were brought on board, and placed in the 
 vessel's hold. The young hero, with his friend and 
 tutor Phemius, climbed over the vessel's side, and sat 
 down in the prow. The long-haired seamen cast loose 
 the moorings ; they plied their oars, and the swift ship 
 was soon far out upon the waters. A steady north 
 wind filled the sail, and the vessel sped swiftly on her 
 way, cleaving the white foam with her keel. By and 
 by the sun went down, and night wrapped the world 
 in her sober mantle ; but the ship still held its course, 
 being guided by the moon's pale light, and the steadfast 
 star of the north. 
 
 The next day they sailed within sight of the low- 
 lying coast of Elis, which stretched northward and 
 southward farther than their eyes could reach. Yet 
 they turned not to the shore, but sailed straight on ; 
 for Odysseus, advised by Pallas Athene, wished first 
 to visit Pylos, where wise old Nestor ruled with his 
 father, the ancient Neleus. This Neleus was the uncle 
 of Jason, chief of the Argonauts, and had been driven 
 from Iolcos by Pelias the usurper. Long time had he 
 wandered, an exile in strange lands, until Aphareus of 
 Arene gave him leave to build a city on the sandy 
 plain close by the sea. There he had reared a noble 
 palace ; and there he still dwelt, having outlived three 
 generations of men. But he had given up his king- 
 dom, many years before, to his son Nestor, himself a 
 sage old man. 
 
The Sea Robbers of Messene. 127 
 
 It was not until late on the third day that the voya- 
 gers turned their ship's prow into the harbor of Pylos. 
 It touched the shore, and Odysseus with his tutor 
 sprang out upon the sands. They found the people 
 of the city offering sacrifices there to Poseidon, ruler of 
 the deep. Upon nine long seats they were sitting, five 
 hundred or more on each seat ; and the priest stood up 
 before them, pouring out libations and offering sacri- 
 fices. Nine coal-black heifers he offered to Poseidon. 
 
 King Nestor sat upon a lofty seat while the elders of 
 the city stood around him, or plied their several duties 
 at the feast. Some of them were busy cutting choice 
 bits of flesh from the slaughtered beeves ; others fixed 
 these bits upon spits, and roasted them over heaps of 
 glowing coals ; and still others handed the smoking 
 food to the waiting people who sat hungry in their 
 places. When Nestor saw Odysseus and the bard, two 
 strangers, standing upon the shore, he arose and went 
 down to meet them. He gave to each a hand, and 
 leading them to the feast he seated them upon soft 
 skins spread on piles of yielding sand. Then he 
 brought to them, in his own hands, choicest pieces of 
 well-cooked and well-flavored food ; and when they had 
 eaten as much as they liked, he poured rich wine into 
 a golden goblet, and as he offered it first to the noble 
 bard, he said, " Right welcome are you, stranger, who- 
 ever you may be, to this our midsummer festival. I 
 give this golden goblet to you first, you being the older 
 man, that you may pray as beseemeth you to great 
 
128 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 Poseidon. When you have made your prayer, hand 
 then the cup to the young man who is with you, that 
 he too may pour out a libation ; for all men have need 
 to pray." 
 
 Then the bard took the goblet, and pouring out a 
 rich libation, lifted up his eyes and prayed, "Great 
 Poseidon, thou who dost hold the earth in thy strong 
 arms, hear now the prayer of thy suppliant. Prolong 
 still the life of our aged host, and add to Nestor with 
 each circling year new honors and greater wealth. To 
 the folk of Pylos give rich contentment and that peace 
 which is the befitting prize of those who are mindful 
 of life's varied duties. And lastly, grant that this 
 young man may find that which he seeks, and then 
 return rejoicing to his home and friends." 
 
 When he had thus spoken, he gave the goblet to 
 Odysseus, and he in like manner poured out libations, 
 and prayed to great Poseidon. 
 
 Then said Nestor as he took again the goblet, 
 " Strangers, you do wisely thus to offer prayers to the 
 gods ; for they are far above us in virtue, strength, 
 and honor. When men have failed to do aright, and 
 have broken Heaven's just laws, they may still, by 
 humble vows and supplications, turn aside from evil- 
 doing, and soften the wrath of the ever-living powers." 
 
 " Yes, truly," answered Phemius, " by prayers we do 
 honor both ourselves and those to whom we pray. 
 There is an ancient saying, which no doubt you oft have 
 heard, that prayers are the feeble-sighted daughters of 
 
The Sea Robbers of Messene. 129 
 
 Father Zeus, and wrinkled and lame they follow in mis- 
 fortune's track. But misfortune, strong and swift, out- 
 runs them often, and brings distress upon the sons of 
 men ; then these blessed prayers, following after, kindly 
 heal the hurts and bind up the aching wounds which 
 have been made. And for this reason the man who is 
 wont to pray feels less the strokes of fortune than does 
 he who lives forgetful of the gods." * 
 
 The teast being soon ended, Nestor turned again to 
 the strangers, and said, " Behold now, the day is well- 
 nigh gone, and all have paid their vows to the ever- 
 living gods. The time has come when we may ask our 
 stranger-guests their names and errand. Who are you 
 who come thus unheralded to the sandy shores of 
 Pylos ? Is your visit one of peace, and shall we wel- 
 come you as friends ? Or do you come as spies, to 
 find out what there may be of wealth or of weakness 
 in our city ? " 
 
 Odysseus answered : " O noble Nestor, we will speak 
 the truth, and hide nothing from you. I am Odysseus 
 of Ithaca ; my father is King Laertes, who was once 
 your comrade when you sailed on the Argo to golden 
 Colchis. Ten days ago, there came to our island sea- 
 faring men from Messene, whom we welcomed as friends 
 and neighbors. But under cover of the night they 
 landed on our shores ; they seized three hundred of 
 our long-wooled sheep, together with the shepherds, 
 and bore them across the sea to some one of the pirate 
 
 1 See Note 10 at the end of this volume. 
 
130 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 harbors of Messene. I now am on my way to King 
 Orsilochus, to bid him send back the stolen flock ; and 
 if he will not hearken to my words, then I shall either 
 gain by guile or take by force double the value of the 
 sheep. But I have come first to Pylos, that you, my 
 father's old-time friend, might know my errand, ?nd, 
 if need be, lend me your aid." 
 
 "You have spoken well," answered Nestor; ";?nd for 
 your father's sake you are thrice welcome to the lofty 
 halls of Pylos. Abide with me for one night, and in 
 the morning I will give you a car and steeds, and a 
 trustworthy guide, to take you by the straightest road 
 to Pherae, where the king of Messene dwells. Orsilo- 
 chus must learn from me, that, though hig pirate-crews 
 may plunder foreign shores, they must not molest the 
 flocks and goods of our home-staying neighbors." 
 
 Having thus spoken, he led the way to the fair palace, 
 which his father Neleus erstwhile had built. There 
 they found that aged chieftain sitting in the great hall, 
 upon a soft couch spread with purple coverings. His 
 hair and his long beard were white as the driven snow, 
 and his hands trembled from very feebleness, for he 
 was exceeding old. He spoke kindly to Odysseus, and 
 asked many questions about his father Laertes, and his 
 home in Ithaca ; but he seemed most pleased when the 
 young man told him of his visit, when a boy, to Iolcos 
 and Mount Pelion. For Iolcos had been the home of 
 Neleus in his youth ; and he it was who had helped 
 Pelias drive ^Eson from the kingdom which was his by 
 
The Sea Robbers of Messene. 131 
 
 right. But Nemesis had followed him, and punished 
 him for the deed. 
 
 Soon the shades of night began to darken the fair 
 hall, and the chiefs and elders went each one to his 
 own house. But Nestor led Odysseus and the bard to 
 an upper chamber, where a fair, soft couch was spread 
 upon a jointed bedstead. There he left them for the 
 night, and there they soon found rest in soothing 
 slumber. 
 
 As soon as the light of day began to streak the east- 
 ern sky, the aged Neleus, as was his wont, arose from 
 Vis couch, and, leaning on the arm of Nestor, went 
 feebly out, and took his seat upon a smooth white stone 
 before the palace gate. Then every one who had aught 
 of grievance, or had suffered any wrong, came and told 
 his story, and made his plea ; and the old hero weighed 
 the matter with an even hand, and gave judgment for 
 the right. 
 
 " What shall be done to aid the son of Laertes, that 
 so his journey into Messene shall prosper?" asked 
 Nestor. "Thou knowest that King Orsilochus has 
 ever been our friend and ally ; yet shall we allow his 
 lawless men thus to despoil our neighbors and old-time 
 comrades ? " 
 
 " Send to Pherae, with the young man, a trusty mes- 
 senger who shall speak for him," answered old Neleus. 
 " Send them both in thy own chariot, and ask Orsilo- 
 chus, in the name of a friend, to deal justly with the 
 son of Laertes." 
 
132 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 By this time Odysseus and the bard had awakened 
 from their slumber. They arose ; and when they had 
 bathed, and had been anointed with soft oil, they clothed 
 themselves in robes of noble texture, and went down 
 into the banquet hall. There they found King Nestor 
 waiting ; and they sat down with him at the table, and 
 willing servants waited on them, bringing choice food 
 and pouring sweet wine into golden goblets. 
 
 When the meal was finished, the bard bade his host 
 farewell ; and, praying that the gods would speed 
 Odysseus on his errand, he went down to the red- 
 prowed ship which was waiting by the shore. And as 
 soon as he stepped on board, the sailors loosed the 
 moorings, and set the sail ; and a brisk wind bore them 
 swiftly back towards Ithaca. 
 
 But Nestor spoke to the young men about him, 
 "Bring out my finest horses, and yoke them forth- 
 with to my lightest car. They shall carry Odysseus on 
 his journey across the plain to Pherae ; and my son 
 Antilochus shall bear him company, and be my messen- 
 ger to the Messenian king." 
 
 Soon the car was ready. The young men took their 
 places ; and Antilochus touching the restive horses 
 with his whip, they sped across the dusty plain. It 
 was a rough and tiresome journey, along unbroken 
 ways, and roads scarcely marked with tracks of wheels 
 or horses' hoofs ; and night had begun to fall ere they 
 came to the river Nedon and the high walls of Pherae 
 where dwelt Orsilochus, the king of Messene. 
 
ALPHEUS AND ARETHUSA. 
 
ADVENTURE XI. 
 
 THE BOW OF EURYTUS. 
 
 In Arcadia there is a little mountain stream called 
 Alpheus. It flows through woods and meadows and 
 among the hills for many miles, and then it sinks 
 beneath the rocks. Farther down the valley it rises 
 again, and dancing and sparkling, as if in happy chase 
 of something, it hurries onward towards the plain ; but 
 soon it hides itself a second time in underground cav- 
 erns, making its way through rocky tunnels where the 
 light of day has never been. Then at last it gushes 
 once more from its prison chambers ; and, flowing 
 thence with many windings through the fields of Elis, 
 it empties its waters into the sea. 
 
 Of this strange river a strange tale is told, and this 
 is what Antilochus related to Odysseus as they rode 
 across the plain towards Pherae : — 
 
 " Years ago there was no river Alpheus ; the channel 
 through which it flows had not then been hollowed out, 
 and rank grass and tall bending reeds grew thick where 
 now its waters sparkle brightest. It was then that a 
 
 *33 
 
134 ^ Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 huntsman, bearing the name of Alpheus, ranged through 
 the woods, and chased the wild deer among the glades 
 and glens of sweet Arcadia. Far away by the lonely 
 sea dwelt Telegona, his fair young wife, and his lovely 
 babe Orsilochus ; but dearer than home or wife or babe 
 to Alpheus, was the free life of the huntsman among 
 the mountain solitudes. For he loved the woods and 
 the blue sky and the singing birds, and the frail flowers 
 upon the hillside ; and he longed to live among them 
 always, where his ears could listen to their music, and 
 his eyes look upon their beauty. 
 
 " ' O Artemis, huntress-queen ! ' he cried, ' I ask but 
 one boon of thee. Let me ramble forever among these 
 happy scenes ! ' 
 
 "And Artemis heard him, and answered his prayer. 
 For, as he spoke, a bright vision passed before him. A 
 sweet-faced maiden went tripping down the valley, cull- 
 ing the choicest flowers, and singing of hope and joy 
 and the blessedness of a life pure and true. It was 
 Arethusa, the Arcadian nymph, by some supposed to 
 be a daughter of old Nereus, the elder of the sea. Then 
 Alpheus heard no more the songs of the birds, or the 
 music of the breeze ; he saw no longer the blue sky 
 above him, or the nodding flowers at his feet : he was 
 blind and deaf to all the world, save only the beautiful 
 nymph. Arethusa was the world to him. He reached 
 out his arms to catch her ; but, swifter than a frightened 
 deer, she fled down the valley, through deep ravines 
 and grassy glades and rocky caverns underneath the 
 
The Bow of Eurytus. 135 
 
 hills, and out into the grassy meadows, and across the 
 plains of Elis, to the sounding sea. And Alpheus fol- 
 lowed, forgetful of every thing but the fleeing vision. 
 When, at length, he reached the sea, he looked back ; 
 and, lo ! he was no longer a huntsman, but a river doomed 
 to meander forever among the scenes, for love of which, 
 he had forgotten his wife and his babe and the duties 
 of life. It was thus that Artemis answered his prayer. 
 "And men say that Arethusa the nymph was after- 
 wards changed into a fountain ; and that to this day, in 
 the far-off island of Ortygia, that fountain gushes from 
 the rocks in an unfailing, crystal stream. But Orsilo- 
 chus, the babe forgotten by his father, grew to man- 
 hood, and in course of time became the king of Pherae 
 and the seafaring people of Messene." 
 
 When Odysseus and his companion reached Pherae, 
 the sun had set and the gates of the palace were closed. 
 But the porter sent a messenger into the hall where 
 King Orsilochus was sitting at the evening meal, who 
 said, " O king, the car of Nestor, our worthy neighbor, 
 stands outside the gate ; and in the car are two young 
 men, richly clothed like princes, and bearing themselves 
 in a most princely manner." 
 
 Forthwith the king arose, and went out to the gate, 
 and welcomed the young men to his city and his high- 
 built halls. And he took them by the hand, and led 
 them into the feast-chamber where the chiefs of Pherae 
 and Messene already sat at meat. He put the spears 
 
136 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 which they bore, in a spear-stand, where were other 
 goodly weapons leaning against the wall. Then he 
 seated them on chairs of cunning workmanship, be- 
 neath which were linen rugs of many colors ; and he 
 gave to each an oaken footstool for his feet Then a 
 maid poured water into a basin of silver, that they 
 might wash their hands ; and she drew a polished table 
 near them, on which another maid placed white loaves 
 of bread, and many dainties well-pleasing to the taste of 
 tired travellers. And the carver brought divers tempt- 
 ing dishes of roasted meats ; and a herald poured red 
 wine into golden bowls, and set them within easy reach. 
 
 When they had eaten, and had forgotten their hunger 
 and thirst and weariness, an old blind bard came into 
 the hall ; and as he sat in a high seat leaning against a 
 pillar, he took his harp in his hand, and, touching it 
 with his deft fingers, sang sweet songs of the gods and 
 the heroes and famous men. Not until he had finished 
 his music and laid aside his harp, did Orsilochus 
 venture to speak of any thing that might disturb the 
 pleasure of his guests. Then with well-chosen words, 
 he asked them their names and their errand. 
 
 "Our fathers," answered Odysseus, "are Nestor and 
 Laertes, well known among the heroes who sailed with 
 Jason to the golden strand of Colchis ; and the errand 
 upon which we come is one of right and justice." 
 
 And then he told the king how the crews of the 
 Messenian ships had landed in Ithaca and carried away 
 his father's choicest flock. Orsilochus listened kindly ; 
 
The Bow of Eurytus. 137 
 
 and when Odysseus had ended, he said, "Think no 
 more of this troublesome matter, for I will see that it 
 is righted at once. The men who dared thus to wrong 
 your father shall restore fourfold the value of the stolen 
 flocks, and shall humbly beg the pardon of Laertes, as 
 well as of myself. I have spoken, and it shall be done ; 
 but you must tarry a while with me in Pherae, and be 
 my honored guest." 
 
 Thus Odysseus brought to a happy end the quest 
 upon which he had come to Messene and the high- 
 walled town of Pherae. And he tarried many days in 
 the pleasant halls of the king, and was held in higher 
 honor than all the other guests. But Antilochus, on 
 the second morning, mounted again his father's chariot, 
 and journeyed onward into Laconia : why he went 
 thither, and did not return to Pylos, Odysseus was soon 
 to learn. 
 
 One evening there came to Pherae a lordly stranger, 
 bringing with him a train of well-armed men and bear- 
 ing a handsome present for Orsilochus. He was very 
 tall and handsome ; he stood erect as a mountain pine, 
 and his eyes flashed keen and sharp as those of an 
 eagle ; but his long white hair and frosted beard be- 
 tokened a man of many years, and his furrowed brow 
 showed plainly that he had not lived free from care. 
 
 " I am Iphitus of CEchalia," he said, " and I am 
 journeying to Lacedaemon where great Tyndareus 
 rules." 
 
 When Odysseus heard the name of Iphitus, he 
 
138 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 remembered it as that of a dear friend of whom his 
 father had often spoken ; and he asked, — 
 
 "Are you that Iphitus who sailed with Jason to 
 golden Colchis ? And do you remember among your 
 comrades, one Laertes of Ithaca ? " 
 
 "There is but one Iphitus," was the answer, "and I 
 am he. Never can I forget the noble-hearted Laertes 
 of Ithaca ; for, on board the Argo, he was my mess- 
 mate, my bedfellow, my friend, my sworn brother. 
 There is no man whom I love more dearly. Would 
 that I could see him, or even know that he still lives ! " 
 
 When he learned that Odysseus was the son of his 
 old-time friend, he was overjoyed ; and he took him 
 by the hand, and wept for very gladness. Then he 
 asked the young man *a thousand questions about his 
 father and his mother, and his father's little kingdom 
 of Ithaca. And Odysseus answered him truly ; for his 
 heart was filled with love for the noble old hero, and he 
 felt justly proud of his friendship. And after this, so 
 long as they staid at Pherae, the young man and the old 
 were constantly together. 
 
 One day, as they were walking alone outside of the 
 city walls, Iphitus said, "Do you see this noble bow 
 which I carry, and which I always keep within easy 
 reach ? " 
 
 "It would be hard not to see it," answered Odysseus, 
 smiling; "for where you are, there also is the bow. I 
 have often wondered why you guard it with so great 
 care." 
 
The Bow of JSurytus. 139 
 
 -"It is the bow of my father Eurytus," answered 
 the hero, " and, next to Apollo's silver weapon, it is the 
 aiost wonderful ever made. My father dwelt in GEcha- 
 ha, and was skilled in archery above all other men ; 
 jnd the sons of the heroes came to him to learn how 
 »o shoot the silent arrow with most deadly aim. Even 
 Heracles, the mightiest of earth-dwellers, was taught 
 by him ; but Heracles requited him unkindly. 
 
 " In my father's halls, close by the shore of the east- 
 ern sea, there were many bright treasures and precious 
 gems and rarest works of art. But more beautiful than 
 any of these, and more precious to my father's heart 
 than any glittering jewel, was our only sister, the lovely 
 Iole. And when Heracles went out from the land of 
 his birth to toil and do the bidding of false Eurystheus, 
 he tarried for a day in my father's halls. There he saw 
 Iole, the blue-eyed maiden, and his great strong heart 
 was taken captive by her gentle will ; but the stern words 
 of Eurystheus fell upon his ears, and bade him go forth 
 at once to the labors which had been allotted him. He 
 went ; for he had vowed, long time before, always to 
 obey the calls of duty. And Iole grieved for him in 
 secret ; yet every day she grew wiser and more beauti- 
 ful, and every day the tendrils of her love were twined 
 more and more closely about my father's heart. 
 
 " Heracles went out to do the thankless tasks which 
 his master Eurystheus had bidden him do. In the 
 swamps of Lerna, he slew the nine-headed Hydra, 
 and dipped his arrows in its poisonous blood. In the 
 
140 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 forests of Arcadia, he caught the brazen-footed stag 
 sacred to Artemis. In the snowy glens of Eryraan- 
 thus, he hunted the fierce wild boar which had long 
 been the terror of men ; and, having caught him in a 
 net, he carried him to Mycenae. In Elis he cleansed 
 the stables of Augeas, turning the waters of the river 
 Alpheus into the stalls of his oxen. In the marshes of 
 Stymphalus, he put to flight the loathsome Harpies, 
 and rested not from following them until they were 
 outside the borders of Hellas. In the sunset land of 
 the Hesperides, he plucked the golden apples which 
 hung ripe in the gardens of Here ; and he slew the fiery 
 dragon that kept watch and ward around them. And, 
 lastly, he went down into the dark kingdom of Hades, 
 and brought thence the mighty hound Cerberus, carry- 
 ing him in his strong arms into the very presence of 
 Eurystheus. All these deeds, and many more, did Hera- 
 cles, because they were tasks set for him by his mas- 
 ter ; but other things, even mightier than they, did he 
 do because of his love for suffering men.' At length, 
 when the days of his servitude to Eurystheus were 
 ended, he came again to Hellas, and dwelt a long time 
 in Calydon with his old-time friend Oineus." 
 
 When Iphitus had thus spoken, he was silent for a 
 time ; and Odysseus, seeing that he was busy with his 
 own thoughts, asked him no questions. Then, as if 
 talking in a dream, he said, — 
 
 " Do you see this bow, — the bow of my father Eury- 
 
 1 See Note 1 1 at the end of this volume. 
 
The Bow of Eurytus. 141 
 
 tus ? Much grief has it brought upon our house ; and 
 yet it was not the bow, but my father's overweening 
 pride, that wrought the mischief, and caused me to go 
 sorrowing through life. Shall I finish my story by tell- 
 ing you how it all ended ? " 
 
 "Tell me all," answered Odysseus. 
 
 " My father Eurytus, as I have said, was the king of 
 archers ; for no man could draw an arrow with so un- 
 erring aim as he, and no man could send it straight to 
 the mark with a more deadly force. Every thought 
 of his waking hours was upon his bow, and he aspired 
 to excel even the archery of Artemis and Apollo. At 
 length he sent a challenge into every city of Hellas : 
 ' Whosoever will excel Eurytus in shooting with the bow 
 and arrows, let him come to (Echalia, and try his skill. 
 The prise to be given to him wlw succeeds is Iole, the fair 
 daughter of Eurytus.' 
 
 " Then there came to the contest, great numbers of 
 young men, the pride of Hellas. But when they saw 
 this wonderful bow of Eurytus, and tried its strength, 
 their hearts sank within them ; and when they aimed 
 their shafts at the target, they shot far wide of the mark, 
 and my father sent them home ashamed and without 
 the prize. 
 
 " ' My dearest Iole,' he would often say, ' I am not 
 afraid of losing you, for there lives no man who knows 
 the bow as well as I.' 
 
 "But by and by great Heracles heard of my lather's 
 boasts, and of the prize which he had offered. 
 
142 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " 'I will go down to GEchalia,' said he, 'and I will win 
 the fair Iole for my bride.' 
 
 " And when he came, my father remembered how he 
 had taught him archery in his youth ; and he felt that 
 in his old pupil he had at last found a peer. Yet he 
 would not cease his boasting. ' If the silver-bowed 
 Apollo should come to try his skill, I would not fear to 
 contend even with him.' 
 
 "Then the target was set up, so far away that it 
 seemed as if one might as well shoot at the sun. 
 
 "'Now, my good bow,' said my father, 'thou hast 
 never failed me : do thou serve me better to-day than 
 ever before ! ' 
 
 " He drew the strong cord back, bending the bow to 
 its utmost tension ; and then the swift arrow leaped 
 from its place, and sped like a beam of light straight 
 towards the mark. But, before it reached its goal, 
 the strength which my father's arm had imparted to it 
 began to fail ; it wavered in the air, its point turned 
 downward, and it struck the ground at the foot of the 
 target. 
 
 " Then Heracles took up his bow, and carelessly aimed 
 a shaft at the distant mark. Like the lightning which 
 Zeus hurls from the high clouds straight down upon the 
 head of some lordly oak, so flashed the unfailing arrow 
 through the intervening space, piercing the very centre 
 of the target. 
 
 '"Lo, now, Eurytus, my old-time friend,' said Hera- 
 cles, ' thou seest that I have won the victory over thee 
 
The Bow of Eurytus. 143 
 
 Where now is the prize, even the lovely Iole, that was 
 promised to him who could shoot better than thou ? ' 
 
 " But my father's heart sank within him, and shame 
 and grief took mighty hold of him. And he sent Iole 
 away in a swift-sailing ship, to the farther shores of the 
 sea, and would not give her to Heracles as he had 
 promised. Then the great hero turned him about in 
 anger, and went back to his home in Calydon, threat- 
 ening vengeance upon the house of Eurytus. I be- 
 sought my father that he would remember his word, 
 and would call Iole home again, and would send her to 
 Heracles to be his bride. But he would not hearken, 
 for the great sorrow which weighed upon him. He 
 placed his matchless bow in my hands, and bade me 
 keep it until I should find a young hero worthy to 
 bear it. 
 
 '"It has served me well,' he said, 'but I shall never 
 need it more.' Then he bowed his head upon his 
 hands, and when I looked again the life had gone from 
 him. Some men say that Apollo, to punish him for his 
 boasting, slew him with one of his silent arrows ; others 
 say that Heracles smote him because he refused to give 
 to the victor the promised prize, even fair Iole, the idol 
 of his heart. But I know that it was grief and shame, 
 and neither Apollo nor Heracles, that brought death 
 upon him. 
 
 " As to Heracles, he dwelt a long time in Calydon, 
 where he wooed and won the princess Deianeira, the 
 daughter of old Oineus ; but the memory of Iole, as she 
 
144 A Story 0/ the Golden Age. 
 
 had been to him in the bright days of his youth, was 
 never blotted from his mind. And the people of 
 Calydon loved him, because, with all his greatness 
 and his strength, he was the friend and helper of the 
 weak and needy. But one day, at a feast, he killed by 
 accident a little boy in the palace of Oineus, named 
 Eunomos ; and his heart was filled with grief, and he 
 took his wife Deianeira, and, leaving Calydon, he jour- 
 neyed aimlessly about until he came to Trachis in 
 Thessaly. There he built him a home, but his restless 
 spirit would give him no peace ; and so, leaving Deia- 
 neira in Trachis, he came back towards Argolis by way 
 of the sea. Three moons ago, I met him in Tiryns. 
 He greeted me as a dear old friend, and kindly offered 
 to help me in the undertaking which I had then on 
 foot ; for robbers had driven from my pastures twelve 
 brood mares, the finest in all Hellas, and I was search- 
 ing for them. 
 
 "'Go you with your men into Messene,' said he, 
 'for doubtless you will find that which you seek among 
 the lawless men who own Orsilochus as king. If you 
 find them not, come again to Tiryns, and I will aid 
 you in further search, and will have them restored to 
 you, even though Hermes, or great Autolycus, be the 
 thief.' 
 
 " So I left him, and came hither to Messene, and 
 to the high-walled towers of Pherae ; and thus you 
 know my errand which I have kept hidden from Orsilo- 
 chus. I have found no traces of the stolen mares ; and 
 
The Bow of Eurytus. 145 
 
 so to-morrow I shall return to Argolis and Tiryns 
 where the great hero waits for me." 
 
 Much more would godlike Iphitus have spoken ; but 
 now the sun had set, and the two friends hastened back 
 to the palace of Orsilochus. 
 
 " Never have I met a man whose friendship I prized 
 more highly than thine," said Odysseus, as they crossed 
 the courtyard, and each was about to retire to his 
 chamber. " I pray that thou wilt take this sharp 
 sword, which was my father's, and this mighty spear, 
 as tokens of the beginnings of a loving friendship." 
 And the young man put the noble weapons into the 
 old hero's hands. 
 
 " And do tkou take in return an equal present," said 
 Iphitus. " Here is the matchless bow of Eurytus my 
 father ; it shall be thine, and shall be to thee a worthy 
 token of the love which I bear towaids thee." 
 
 Odysseus took the bow. It was a bow of marvellous 
 beauty, and its strength was so great that no man, save 
 its proud new owner, could string it. It was indeed 
 a matchless gift, and a treasure to be prized. 
 
ADVENTURE XI L 
 
 THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN 
 THE WORLD. 
 
 Very early on the following day, Iphitus bade Orsilo- 
 chus farewell, and started on his journey back towards 
 Tiryns ; and Odysseus, to the surprise of all, went with 
 him, riding in the same chariot. 
 
 " I know that you want to go into Laconia," Iphitus 
 had said. " Why not go now ? For I and my brave 
 men will convoy you safely as far as Lacedaemon ; and 
 when there, I will commend you to my old comrades, 
 Castor and Polydeuces, who dwell in the palace of their 
 father, King Tyndareus." 
 
 And Odysseus had gladly consented ; for, although 
 his host had pressed him hard to stay longer, he was 
 very anxious for many reasons to visit Lacedaemon. 
 
 For two days the company travelled slowly eastward. 
 
 They crossed the mountain land which lies between 
 
 Messene and Laconia, and came to the plain, rich with 
 
 wheat-fields, which lay beyond. And now the way was 
 
 easier, and the road led straight towards Lacedaemon. 
 
 At noon on the second day, they rested upon the 
 146 
 
The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. 147 
 
 banks of a little stream ; and, as the sun was hot, they 
 sat a long time in the pleasant shade of some trees 
 which grew not far from the roadside. Some distance 
 down the valley they caught glimpses of the high towers 
 of the city ; and now and then they heard the sound of 
 busy workers within the walls, or the shouts of the 
 toilers in the neighboring fields. A ride of only a few 
 minutes would bring them to the gates of Lacedasmon. 
 
 While they were thus waiting and resting, an old 
 minstrel, who had come out of the city, joined them 
 by the roadside, and began to entertain them. At first 
 he played sweetly upon his lyre, and sang songs, new 
 and old, which he thought would be pleasing to his 
 listeners. Then he told them stories of the times, now 
 long past, when yet men lived in peaceful innocence, 
 unbeset with eating cares. 
 
 "And now," he said, "since you are about to enter 
 Lacedasmon, and will spend the night within the kingly 
 halls of great Tyndareus, you must needs hear of the 
 beauty and the courage and the wealth for which this 
 city is far famed among all the states of Hellas. The 
 riches of which we boast cannot be measured like gold 
 and precious stones ; our wealth lies in the courage and 
 true-heartedness of our men, and in the beauty and de- 
 votedness of our women." 
 
 And then he told them of the four wonderful chil- 
 dren whom King Tyndareus and his wife Leda had 
 reared in the pleasant halls of Lacedasmon, — Castor 
 and Polydeuces, the devoted brothers ; and the sisters, 
 
148 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 proud Clytemnestra, and Helen the beautiful. He told 
 how Castor and Polydeuces were famed among all the 
 heroes of Greece ; how they had sailed with Jason on 
 the Argo ; how they had hunted the wild boar in the 
 woods of Calydon ; and how they had fought under the 
 banner of Peleus when he stormed the town of Iolcos, 
 and drove the false Acastus from his kingdom. He 
 told how Helen, while yet a mere child, had been stolen 
 from her home and her parents, and carried by Theseus 
 of Athens to far-distant Attica ; and how her brothers 
 Castor and Polydeuces had rescued her, and brought 
 her back to her loving friends in Lacedaemon. He told 
 how the two brothers excelled in all the arts of war, 
 and in feats of courage and skill ; how Castor was re- 
 nowned at home and abroad as a tamer of horses, and 
 how Polydeuces was without a peer as a boxer and as 
 a skilful wielder of the sword. And he told how the 
 beauty of Helen had brought hosts of suitors from 
 every quarter of the world ; and how her father, old 
 Tyndareus, was all the time beset with courtiers, 
 princes, and heroes, the noblest of the earth, — all 
 beseeching him for the hand of the matchless fair 
 one. 
 
 No one knows how long the old man would have 
 kept on talking, had not Iphitus bade him cease. " We 
 have heard already, a thousand times, the tales that 
 you tell us," he said. " Waste no more time with vain 
 words which are on the tongue of every news-monger 
 in Argolis ; but make haste back to the city, and say 
 
The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. 149 
 
 to Castor and Polydeuces that Iphitus, who erstwhile 
 was their comrade on the Argo, waits outside the 
 gates of Lacedaemon." 
 
 The minstrel bowed, and said, " It is not for me to 
 act the part of a herald for a stranger. But do you 
 send one of your young men into the city, and I will 
 gladly go with him into the broad palace of the king, 
 where he may announce your coming." 
 
 Then Iphitus called to one of the young men in his 
 company, and bade him go before them to the palace, 
 to herald their coming ; and the old minstrel went with 
 him. 
 
 Now when the sun was beginning to sink behind the 
 heights of lofty Taygetes, the company arose from their 
 resting-place by the roadside, and began to move slowly 
 towards the city. At the same time, two horsemen 
 came out through the gate, and rode rapidly up the 
 valley to meet them. Iphitus waved his long-plumed 
 helmet in the air, and shouted aloud. "There they 
 come," he cried, — " the twin heroes ! as noble and as 
 handsome, and seemingly as young, as when we sailed 
 together on the Argo." 
 
 It seemed but a moment until the horsemen ap- 
 proached and drew rein before them. They were tall 
 and comely youths, exceedingly fair, and so alike that 
 no man could tell which one was Castor or which Poly- 
 deuces. Their armor was of gold, and glowed in the 
 light of the setting sun like watch-fires on the moun- 
 tain-tops. Their steeds were white as snow, with long 
 
150 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 manes that glimmered and shone like the silvery beams 
 of the moon on a still summer's evening. 
 
 " All hail, our old-time comrade ! " they cried. "Wel- 
 come to the halls of Lacedaemon ! We bid you welcome 
 in the name of our aged father, King Tyndareus." 
 
 Then they turned, and led the way to the lofty palace 
 gates. 
 
 As Odysseus and his aged friend dismounted from 
 their car, a score of ready squires came out to serve 
 them. Some loosed the horses from the yoke, and led 
 them to the stables, and fed them plentifully with oats 
 and white-barley grains ; others tilted the car against 
 the wall of the outer court, so that no careless passer-by 
 would run against or injure it ; and still others carried 
 the arms of the heroes into the spacious hall, and leaned 
 them with care against the grooved columns. 
 
 Then Castor and Polydeuces, the glorious twins, led 
 the heroes into the broad hall of King Tyndareus. 
 Odysseus gazed about him with wondering eyes, for he 
 had never seen so great magnificence. Walls of pol- 
 ished marble ran this way and that from the brazen 
 threshold ; the doors were of carved oak inlaid with 
 gold, and the door-posts were of shining silver. With- 
 in were seats and sumptuous couches ranged against 
 the wall, from the entrance even to the inner cham- 
 bers ; and upon them were spread light coverings, 
 woven and embroidered by the deft hands of women. 
 And so great was the sheen of brass, of gold and silver, 
 and of precious gems, within this hall, that the light 
 
The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. 151 
 
 gleamed from floor to ceiling, like the beams of the sun 
 or the round full moon. 1 
 
 The aged king was pleased to see the heroes ; for 
 Iphitus and he had been lifelong friends, firm and true, 
 through every turn of fortune. And when he learned 
 the name and parentage of young Odysseus, he took 
 him by the hand, and bade him welcome for the sake 
 of his father, good Laertes. 
 
 The first words of greeting having been spoken, 
 Odysseus, still wondering, went down into the polished 
 baths. There, when he had bathed, he clothed himself 
 in princely garments ; and he threw a soft, rich cloak 
 about his shoulders, and made himself ready to stand 
 in the presence of beauty, nobility, and courage. Then 
 Polydeuces led him back into the great hall. 
 
 But a change had taken place while he was gone. 
 The king was no longer alone. There stood around 
 him, or sat upon couches, all the noblest young heroes 
 of Hellas. The king's son-in-law, tall Agamemnon of 
 Mycenae, stood behind the throne ; and near him was 
 his handsome brother Menelaus. Among all the princes 
 then at Lacedaemon, these two sons of Atreus were 
 accounted worthiest ; for not only did they excel in 
 strength and wisdom, but they were heirs to the king- 
 dom of Argolis, and the lordship over men. Next to 
 them stood Ajax the son of Telamon ; he was nephew 
 to old King Peleus, who had wedded the sea-nymph 
 in the cave-halls of Mount Pelion ; and among the 
 
 1 See Note 12 at the end of this volume. 
 
152 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 younger heroes there was none who equalled him in 
 bravery. 
 
 Reclining on a couch at the king's left hand was 
 another prince of the same name, — Ajax, the son of 
 Oileus. He had come from distant Locris, where he 
 was noted as the swiftest runner and the most skilful 
 spearsman in all Hellas. He was neither so tall nor so 
 handsome as the son of Telamon ; but the very glance 
 of his eye and the curl of his lip, made men admire 
 and love him. 
 
 Below him stood Diomede of Tiryns, who, though 
 still a mere youth, was a very lion in war. His father, 
 brave Tydeus, had met his death while fighting with 
 the Thebans ; but he had long ago avenged him. 
 
 Idomeneus, a prince of Crete, known far and wide 
 for his skill in wielding the spear, was next, a man 
 already past the prime of life. And beyond him in 
 order were other princes : Philoctetes of Meliboea, 
 famous for his archery ; Machaon, son of Asclepius, 
 from GEchalia, the home of Iphitus ; Antilochus of 
 Pylos, late the companion of Odysseus ; Nireus of Syma, 
 famed only for his comeliness ; and Menestheus of 
 Athens, who, in the management of men and horses 
 and the ordering of battle, had not a peer on earth. 
 
 All these were in the hall of King Tyndareus ; and 
 they received Odysseus with words of seeming kind- 
 ness, although a shade of jealousy was plainly seen 
 upon their faces. While they were speaking, a min- 
 strel entered, and began to play deftly upon his lyre ; 
 
The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. 153 
 
 and, as he played and sung, two dancers sprang upon 
 the floor, and whirled in giddy mazes about the hall. 
 Then from their high-roofed chamber, where the air 
 was full of sweet perfumes, came three women to listen 
 to the music. Helen, like in form to Artemis the 
 huntress-queen, led the rest ; and when Odysseus saw 
 her, he remembered no more the golden splendor which 
 had dazzled his eyes when first he stood upon the 
 threshold of the palace, for every thing else paled in 
 the light of Helen's unspeakable beauty. Next to her 
 came Clytemnestra, who, a few years before, had been 
 wedded to Agamemnon of Mycense. She was fair, but 
 not beautiful ; and the glance which fell from her eye 
 sent a thrill of pain to the heart of the young hero. 
 The two sisters were followed by their cousin, sweet 
 Penelope, who, blushing like the morning, kept her 
 eyes modestly upon the ground, and looked not once 
 towards the company of princely strangers. And, as 
 she stood leaning against a lofty column, Odysseus 
 wondered within himself whether he admired more the 
 glorious beauty of Helen, or the retiring sweetness of 
 Penelope. 
 
ADVENTURE XIII. 
 
 A RACE FOR A WIFE. 
 
 Days and weeks passed by, and still Odysseus tarried 
 as a guest at the court of King Tyndareus. His friend 
 Iphitus had gone on to Tiryns to meet the hero Hera- 
 cles, and had left with him his blessing and the bow 
 of Eurytus. But the young princes who had come to 
 Lacedaemon to woo the beautiful Helen remained in 
 the palace, and each had vowed in the secret of his 
 heart that he would not depart until he had won the 
 matchless lady for his bride. Each had offered to 
 the king gifts of countless value, — gold and jewels, 
 fine horses, and well-wrought armor ; and each had 
 prayed him that he would himself set the bride-price 
 for his daughter, and bestow her on whom he would, 
 even on the man who pleased him best. But the king, 
 for reasons of his own, would give them no answer. 
 
 All this time, Odysseus held himself aloof from the 
 crowd of wooers, and kept his own counsel ; and, though 
 all believed that he too was smitten with love for the 
 peerless Helen, yet in his heart the blue-eyed Penelope 
 reigned queen. One day as he sat alone with Tynda 
 
 '54 
 
A Race for a Wife. 155 
 
 reus in his chamber, he saw that the king was sorely 
 troubled ; and he began in his own way to find out the 
 cause of his distress. 
 
 " Surely, O king ! " he said, " you are the happiest 
 of men. For here you have, in Lacedaemon, every 
 thing that can delight the eye, or please the heart. 
 Wherever you may turn, there you see wealth and 
 beauty ; and it is all yours, to do with as you like. 
 Your sons are the bravest in the world ; your daughters 
 are the fairest ; your palace is the most beautiful ; 
 your kingdom is the strongest. There is certainly 
 nothing to be wished for that is not already yours." 
 
 "And yet," answered Tyndareus, with a sigh, "I am 
 the most miserable of mortals. I would rather be a 
 witless swineherd in the oak forests, living in a hut, 
 and feeding upon roots and wild fruits, than dwell in 
 this palace, beset with cares like those which daily 
 weigh me down." 
 
 "I cannot understand you," said Odysseus. "You 
 are at peace with all the world ; your children are all 
 with you •, you have no lack of comfort. There is noth- 
 ing more for you to desire. How, indeed, can care 
 come in through these golden doors, and sit upon your 
 brow, and weigh you down with heaviness ? " 
 
 "I will tell you," answered the king, "for I know 
 that I can trust your good judgment. Here in my 
 palace are all the noblest princes of Hellas suing for 
 the hand of Helen, whom the gods have cursed with 
 more than mortal beauty. Each has offered me a 
 
156 A Story 0/ the Golden Age. 
 
 price, and each expects to win her. I dare not with- 
 hold her long ; for then all will become angered, and 
 my kingdom as well as my daughter will be the prey 
 of him who is the strongest. I dare not give her to 
 one of them, for then the other nine and twenty will 
 make cause against me and bring ruin to Lacedaemon. 
 On this side grin the heads of Scylla, all black with 
 death ; on that side dread Charybdis roars ; and there 
 is no middle way. Why, oh, why did not the immor- 
 tals bless my daughter by giving her a homely face ? " 
 
 Then Odysseus drew nearer to the king, and spoke 
 in lower tones. " I pray you, do not despair," he said. 
 "There is a safe way out of all this trouble. If you 
 will only trust me, I will lead the whole matter to a 
 happy issue." 
 
 "How, how ? " eagerly asked the king. 
 
 " I will tell you," said Odysseus. " But you must 
 first listen to a plea that I have to make. To you 
 alone it is known that I am not a suitor for the hand 
 of Helen, but that my hopes are all for coy Penelope. 
 Speak to her father, your brother Icarius, and help 
 me win her for my own, and I will settle this matter 
 between you and the princely lovers of fair Helen in a 
 manner pleasing to every one." 
 
 " It shall be as you wish ! " cried the king, taking 
 heart. " I will trust the management of this business 
 to you, and may the wise Pallas Athene prosper you ! " 
 
 The next morning shrewd Odysseus arose, and 
 clothed himself in princely fashion ; and, after the 
 
A Race for a Wife. 157 
 
 morning meal had been eaten, he bade the heralds call 
 the suitors into the council chamber. And the heralds 
 called the gathering ; and the young heroes quickly 
 came, one after another, until nine and twenty sat 
 within the chamber where the elders of Lacedaemon 
 were wont to meet. Then Odysseus stood on the 
 raised platform, close to the door ; and Pallas Athene^ 
 unseen by the dull eyes of mortals, stood beside him, 
 and whispered words of wisdom in his ear. 
 
 " Noble men of Hellas," said Odysseus, " I pray that 
 you will hearken to the words which I shall speak, and 
 that you will duly weigh them in your minds. We have 
 all come to Lacedaemon with one wish and one intent, 
 — and that is, to win the most beautiful woman in 
 the world. We have offered, each one for himself, a 
 bride-price worthy of the bride ; yet the king, for 
 reasons which you ought to understand, is slow in 
 bestowing her upon any of us. And so weeks and 
 even months have passed, and we are still here, devour- 
 ing the substance of our kind host, and yet as far as 
 ever from the prize which we desire. Now, it behooves 
 us to bring this matter to an end ; for otherwise we all 
 shall suffer loss by being too long absent from our 
 homes." 
 
 The princely suitors listened kindly to his words 
 and all nodded their assent. Then he went on : — 
 
 " Upon how many of you, now, has the peerless 
 Helen smiled as if in admiration ? " 
 
 Every man among them raised his hand in answer. 
 
158 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " Who, among you all, believes that fair Helen 
 would prefer him, above every other, for a husband ? " 
 
 Every man arose, and, glancing proudly around him, 
 answered " I ! " 
 
 "I have, then, a plan to offer," said Odysseus. 
 "Let us leave the choice to Helen. And, in order that 
 each may the better show whether there be aught of 
 nobility in him, let us go forth straightway, and make 
 trial of all the games in which any one of us excels. 
 And when the games are ended, let glorious Helen 
 come and choose him whom she will wed." 
 
 At this all the suitors shouted assent ; for each felt 
 sure that he would be the chosen one. 
 
 " But hearken to one word more ! " cried Odysseus. 
 "The most beautiful woman in the world is a prize of 
 priceless value ; and he who wins that prize will hardly 
 keep it through the might of his unaided arm. Let us 
 bind ourselves by an oath that he whom Helen chooses 
 shall be her wedded husband, and that the rest will 
 depart at once from Lacedaemon ; and that if any man, 
 from near or far, shall carry peerless Helen from her 
 husband or her husband's home, then we will join our 
 forces, and never falter in the fight until we have 
 restored her to him." 
 
 "And further still," added Ajax Telamon, "let us 
 swear that should any one of us forget the agreement 
 made this day, then the remaining nine and twenty 
 will cause swift punishment, and terrible, to fall upon 
 him." 
 
A Race for a Wife. 159 
 
 Much more did shrewd Odysseus and the assembled 
 princes say ; and in the end they made a solemn sacri- 
 fice to Father Zeus, and lifting up their hands they 
 swore that they would hold to all that had been spoken. 
 Then, at an hour which had been set, they went out 
 to make trial of their skill in all kinds of manly games, 
 so that each might show wherein he excelled all other 
 men, and thus stand higher in the regards of match- 
 less Helen. And the heralds made announcement, and 
 a great company followed them to the broad market- 
 place between the palace and the city walls. King 
 Tyndareus, happy that his perplexities were soon to 
 end, sat upon a high throne overlooking the place ; 
 and at his side stood the glorious twins, Castor and 
 Polydeuces, clad in their snow-white armor. But 
 Helen, dowered with beauty by the gods, stood with 
 her maidens at the window of her high-built chamber, 
 and watched the contest from afar. 
 
 Then all the suitors, arrayed in princely garments, as 
 became the mightiest men of Hellas, stood up in the 
 lists, each for himself to take his part in the games. 
 And each fondly believed that he, among them all, was 
 the favored suitor of fair Helen. But shrewd Odysseus 
 kept his own counsels, and wisely planned to reach the 
 ends which he so much desired. 
 
 Then the games began. And they made trial, first, 
 in throwing the heavy spear ; and gray-bearded Idome- 
 neus led all the rest. Then in shooting with the bow ; 
 and Odysseus was far the best, for no one else could 
 
1 60 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 string or handle the matchless bow of Eurytus. Then 
 in throwing heavy weights ; and Ajax, son of Telamon, 
 sent a huge stone hurtling from his strong arms far 
 beyond all other marks. Then in wrestling ; and there 
 was not one that could withstand the stout-limbed son 
 of Oileus. Then in boxing ; and Philoctetes, the armor- 
 bearer of Heracles, carried off the palm. Then in 
 fencing with the broad-sword ; and Diomede held the 
 championship, and found no peer. Then in leaping ; 
 and Thoas of ^Etolia, one of the later comers, excelled 
 all others. Then in the foot-race ; and here again the 
 lesser Ajax left all the rest behind. 
 
 And now the car of Helios was sloping towards the 
 western sea, and King Tyndareus by a signal ordered 
 that the games should cease. 
 
 " Come, my friends," said he, " the day is spent, and 
 nothing can be gained by further trials of strength and 
 skill. Let us go forthwith to my banquet hall, where 
 the tables groan already with the weight of the good 
 cheer which has been provided for you. And when you 
 have rested yourselves, and put away from you the 
 thought of hunger, fair Helen will descend from he" 
 high chamber, and choose from among you him who 
 shall be her husband." 
 
 And all obeyed, and went straightway to the great 
 banquet hall of the king. Now the court, and the hall, 
 and even the passage-ways of the palace, were thronged 
 with people old and young, noble :ind base-born ; for all 
 had heard of what was to follow. And the steward of 
 
A Race for a Wife. 161 
 
 the king had slain a score of long-wooled sheep, and 
 many swine, and two slow-footed oxen ; and these he 
 had flayed and dressed for the goodly banquet. Then 
 all sat down at the tables, and stretching forth their 
 hands, they partook of the pleasant food so bounteously 
 spread before them. And though some of the princely 
 suitors had been beaten in the games, yet all were 
 merry and hopeful, and many a pleasant jest was bandied 
 back and forth among them. 
 
 "The son of Oileus should remember," said Nireus, 
 "that the race is not always to the swift." 
 
 "And Nireus should remember," said Thoas, "that 
 beauty does not consort with comeliness. Aphrodite 
 did not choose Apollo for her husband, but rather the 
 limping smith, Hephaestus." 
 
 Then some one asked Nireus what was the price of 
 hair-oils in Syma ; and this led to much merriment and 
 many jokes about his smooth curls, his well-shaven face, 
 and his tight-fitting doublet. 
 
 "If his father were living," said one, "he would be 
 setting a bride-price upon him." 
 
 In the midst of the merriment, a herald passed 
 through the hall, crying out, " Remember your oaths, 
 O princes of the Hellenes ! Remember your promises 
 to the immortal gods ! " 
 
 A silence fell upon that multitude, like the stillness 
 which takes hold upon all nature when waiting for 
 the thunder-cloud to vent its fury upon the plains. And 
 the minstrel, who sat upon a raised seat at the farther 
 
1 62 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 side of the hall, touched his harp with his deft fingers, 
 and brought forth sounds so sweet and low and musi- 
 cal that the ears of all the hearers were entranced. 
 Then the door of the inner chamber opened, and the 
 glorious Helen, leaning on the arm of old Tyndareus, 
 came forth to make her choice. The hearts of all the 
 suitors stood still ; they could not bear to look toward 
 her, although her heavenly beauty was modestly hidden 
 beneath her thick veil. She came into the hall : she 
 passed Idomeneus, who sat nearest the inner chamber ; 
 she passed the mighty Ajax, him of the noble form 
 and the eagle eye ; she passed the doughty Diomede, 
 wielder of the sword ; she passed Philoctetes, and 
 Odysseus, and the stout-limbed son of Oileus. The 
 hearts of the younger suitors on the hither side of the 
 hall began to beat with high hopes. 
 
 " She surely has her eyes on me ! " said the coxcomb 
 Nireus, speaking to himself. 
 
 She came to the table where Menelaus, the brother 
 of Agamemnon, sat. She paused a moment, and then 
 she held out her lily-white hand, in token that he was 
 the husband of her choice. The great silence was at 
 once broken, and a mighty shout went up to the high 
 roof of the palace. Every one of the slighted suitors 
 felt for an instant the keen pang of disappointment ; 
 then, remembering their oaths, all joined in wishing joy 
 to Menelaus and his bride. Some, however, chagrined 
 and crestfallen, soon withdrew from the palace ; and 
 calling their servitors about them, they secretly and in 
 
A Race for a Wife. 163 
 
 haste departed from Lacedaemon. When the morning 
 dawned, only ten of the young princes still staid in 
 the halls of old Tyndareus. 
 
 It was easy to understand why these remained. 
 Sweet-faced Penelope had won other hearts beside that 
 of young Odysseus. " Since the glorious Helen is to 
 be the bride of Menelaus," said each of those who 
 tarried, " why shall not her fair cousin — who is wor- 
 thier if not so beautiful — be mine to wed ? " 
 
 And straightway they beset Icarius with offers of 
 rich gifts, begging him to set a bride-price on his daugh- 
 ter, and bestow her upon him who should agree most 
 willingly to pay it. The old man was sorely troubled, 
 for he loved his daughter dearly ; and he could not bear 
 the thought that a strange prince should lead her into 
 distant lands where, perchance, his eyes should never 
 more behold her. 
 
 While he pondered sadly, sitting alone and bewildered 
 in his chamber, he heard a minstrel singing in the hall. 
 He listened. It was a song about Atalanta the fair 
 huntress of Arcadia, beginning with the time when 
 Meleager of the golden hair awarded her the prize 
 in the far-off wood of Calydon. 
 
 Then the minstrel sang of the maiden's return to 
 Arcadia : How she had stopped at Delphi on her way, 
 and had asked the Pythia in Apollo's temple to reveal 
 the secrets of her future life. How the oracle could 
 tell her nothing of the things that would befall her, 
 but only gave her this advice : " Keep thyself from 
 
164 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 wedlock's chains ! " How, when she came again to her 
 father's palace, she found him beset by suitors asking 
 for the hand of his fleet-footed daughter. Then the 
 maiden, calling to mind the Pythia's warning, besought 
 her father to send the suitors home, and let her, like 
 Artemis, live unwedded ; for she would be as free as 
 the winds which play in the lovely vales of Mantinea, 
 or beat the bleak tops of Mount Enispe. But old Iasus 
 was a crafty man — an unfeeling father, loving gold 
 more than his daughter. " Behold," said he, " the 
 bride-price that is offered. Shall I refuse so great gain, 
 simply to please thy silly whims ? " Then Atalanta 
 was sorely troubled, and she prayed Artemis, the hunt- 
 ress-queen, to send her help in the time of her great 
 need. And Artemis hearkened, and spoke words of 
 comfort to her heart ; and kind Pallas Athene" gave her 
 wisdom. 
 
 " My father," said she to old Iasus, " take thou the 
 bride-price that any suitor may offer for me — but on 
 these conditions : that he shall make trial with me in 
 the foot-race, and if he outrun me, then I will go with 
 him as his bride ; but if I outstrip him in the race, then 
 he is to lose the bride-price offered, and his life is to be 
 at your mercy." 
 
 Crafty Iasus was highly pleased, and he rubbed his 
 palms together with delight ; and he caused the her- 
 alds to proclaim the terms on which the matchless Ata- 
 lanta might be won. Some of the suitors departed in 
 despair, for they knew that no mortal man was so fleet 
 
A Race for a Wife. 165 
 
 of foot as the lovely huntress of Arcadia. But many 
 others, less wise, put themselves in training for the 
 trial. Then one by one, like silly moths plunging into 
 the candle's flame, they went down to the race-course 
 of old Iasus, and tried their speed with that of the 
 wing-footed damsel ; but all failed miserably, and none 
 of them ever returned to their homes or their loving 
 friends. And Iasus grew rich upon the spoils — the 
 jewels, and the bride-gifts, and the arms — which he 
 thus gained from the luckless lovers. 
 
 One day Milanion, a youth from distant Scandia, came 
 to try his fortune. " Knowest thou the terms ? " asked 
 Iasus. 
 
 "I know them," was the answer, "and though they 
 were thrice as hard, yet would I win Atalanta." 
 
 And Atalanta, when she saw his manly, handsome 
 face, and heard his pleasant voice, was sad to think that 
 one so noble and so brave should meet so hard a fate. 
 But Milanion went down to the race-course with a firm 
 step and a heart full of hope. For he had prayed to 
 Aphrodite that she would kindly aid his suit, and lend 
 him wings to reach the goal in advance of Atalanta; 
 and Aphrodite had listened to his plea, and had given 
 him three golden apples, and had whispered a secret in 
 his ear. 
 
 The signal was given, and youth and maiden bounded 
 from the lists like arrows shot from a bow. But the 
 maiden was much the fleeter of the two, and was soon 
 far in advance. 
 
1 66 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 "Another fool will soon come to grief!" said Iasus, 
 laughing loudly. 
 
 By this time Atalanta was near the turning-post, 
 while Milanion, straining every nerve, was many yards 
 behind. Then he remembered the secret which Aph- 
 rodite had whispered, and he threw one of the golden 
 apples far beyond the post. It fell upon the green 
 lawn, a stone's-throw outside of the course. The quick 
 eyes of Atalanta marked its beauty, and she ran to pick 
 it up. And while she was seeking it among the grass, 
 Milanion passed the turning-post, and was speeding 
 swiftly back towards the goal. It was only a moment, 
 however, until Atalanta swift as the wind overtook him, 
 and was again far in the lead. Then the young man 
 threw a second apple, this time some distance to the 
 right of the course. The maiden followed, catching it 
 almost before it fell ; but Milanion had gained a hun 
 dred paces on her. Ere she could again overtake him, 
 he threw his third apple over his shoulder and to the 
 left of the course. Atalanta, forgetting in her eager- 
 ness that the goal was so near, stopped to secure this 
 prize also ; and lo ! as she lifted her eyes, Milanion 
 had reached the end of the course. Old Iasus stormed 
 with rage, and threatened many fearful things. But 
 Milanion, smiling, came boldly forward and claimed his 
 bride ; and she, blushing and happy, covered her face 
 with her veil, and followed him willingly to the home 
 of his fathers, in distant Cythera. 
 
 Such was the song which the minstrel sang, and to 
 
A Race for a Wife. 167 
 
 which Icarius listened while sitting in his chamber. 
 Suddenly a new thought seemed to strike him, and he 
 bade a herald call before him all the suitors of sweet 
 Penelope. 
 
 "My young friends," he said, "you have asked me 
 for my daughter's hand, and promised me a liberal bride- 
 price. I need none of your gold, nor do I wish to give 
 my daughter to a stranger with whom she would be 
 loath to go. Hence I shall do after this manner : He 
 who shall win in a foot-race to-day, on the long course 
 beyond the market-place, shall be husband of Penelope, 
 but on this condition : that, if she choose to go with 
 him, then he is to have her without the payment of a 
 price ; but if she choose to stay with me, then he shall 
 pay me a rich dower, and straightway depart forever 
 from the gates of Lacedaemon." 
 
 The suitors heard the words of old Icarius, and all 
 assented. Then soon the people were gathered again 
 in the broad market-place; the long race-course was 
 cleared and put in order, and every thing was made ready 
 for the trial. The trumpet sounded, and the young 
 princes came forward lightly clad for the race. Pala- 
 medes, the cousin of Menelaus, fair and tall ; and Ajax 
 Oileus, who had won the race on the preceding day ; 
 and Megas, brave as Mars, from far Dulichium ; and 
 Thoas, the ^Etolian prince ; and Phidippus, the grand- 
 son of great Heracles ; and Protesilaus, from distant 
 Thessaly ; and Eumelus, son of Admetus and the divine 
 Alcestis ; and Polypoetes, descended from the Lapith 
 
1 68 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 king Peirithous and Hippodameia the daughter of the 
 Centaurs ; and Elphenor, the son of large-souled Chal- 
 codon, ruler of Euboea and the valorous Abantes ; and 
 lastly, Odysseus, who had shrewdly planned all matters 
 to this end. Rarely have ten men so noble stood up 
 together to contend for honors or the winner's prize. 
 
 The word was given, and they darted forth, at once 
 and swiftly, raising a cloud of dust along the course. 
 From the very start, they strained at utmost speed ; 
 they reached the turning-post, and hurried onward to 
 the goal. But now stout Ajax no longer took the lead ; 
 for Odysseus ran before the rest, and passed the goal, 
 and came to the crowd by the lists, while yet the others 
 with laboring breath were speeding down the course. 
 
 Old Icarius was pleased with the issue of the race. 
 For he hoped that Penelope would not consent to wed 
 Odysseus and follow him to distant Ithaca ; and, if so, 
 he would be happily rid of all the troublesome suitors. 
 
 " Come here, my sweet daughter," he said. " This 
 young man, a stranger from a far-off land, has won thee 
 in the games ; yet the choice is thine. Wilt thou leave 
 thy old father, lonely and alone in Lacedaeraon, prefer* 
 ring to share the fortunes of this stranger ? Or wilt 
 thou stay with me, and bid him seek a wife among the 
 daughters of his own people ? " 
 
 And sweet Penelope covered her face with her veil to 
 hide her blushes, and said, " He is my husband ; I will 
 go with him." 
 
 Icarius said no more. But on that spot he after 
 
A Race for a Wife. 1 69 
 
 wards raised a marble statue — a statue of Penelope 
 veiling her blushes — and he dedicated it to Modesty. 
 
 Soon afterward Odysseus returned with his young 
 wife to his own home and friends in sea-girt Ithaca. 
 And, next to Penelope, the richest treasure that he 
 carried thither was the bow of Eurytus. 
 
ADVENTURE XIV. 
 
 HOW A GREAT HERO MET HIS MASTER. 
 
 Now, after two years and more had passed in peace, 
 there came one day to Ithaca an aged wanderer who 
 had many things of great import to tell. For he had 
 been in every land and in every clime, and had trod the 
 streets of every city, even from Pylos to Iolcos by 
 the sea ; and he knew what deeds had been done by all 
 the heroes, and what fortunes or misfortunes had be- 
 fallen mankind in every part of Hellas. And Odysseus 
 and the elders of Ithaca loved to sit around him in the 
 banquet chamber of Laertes, and listen to his stories, 
 of which there was no end. For in that wonderful 
 Golden Age, these strollers — blind bards and story- 
 tellers — were the people's newspapers, and oftentimes 
 the only means by which those of one country could 
 learn aught of what was passing in another. 
 
 "Alas ! the world is no longer as it was in the days 
 of my youth," said the old newsmonger, one morning, 
 with a sigh. " The heroes are all passing away. In- 
 deed, of the older race, I can now remember only three 
 who are still living, — Peleus, the king of the Myrmi- 
 170 
 
How a Great Hero met his Master. 171 
 
 dons ; Nestor, of lordly Pylos ; and Laertes, in whose 
 halls we are sitting." 
 
 " You forget Cheiron, the wise master," said Odys- 
 seus. 
 
 " By no means," was the answer. " It is now seven 
 years since Zeus took him from earth, and set him 
 among the stars. Some say that Heracles, while fight- 
 ing with unfriendly Centaurs, unwittingly struck the 
 great master with one of his poisoned arrows. Others 
 say that the master, while looking at an arrow, care- 
 lessly dropped it upon his own foot, thus wounding 
 himself unto death. But who is right, I cannot tell. 
 I only know that Cheiron lives no longer in his cave- 
 hall on rugged Pelion, and that the old heroes are all 
 fast following him to the land of the unknown." 
 
 " But what of Neleus, the old father of Nestor ? 
 And what of my dear friend Iphitus of CEchalia ? And 
 what of great Heracles ? Surely the race of heroes 
 still lives in them." 
 
 " Can it be that you have not heard the sad story ? " 
 asked the old man. " Can it be that no one has yet 
 brought to you the strange news, over which all Hellas 
 has been weeping ? Two harvests now have passed 
 since the noble spirit of Iphitus fled down the dark 
 ways, — it may be to the gloomy halls of Hades, it may 
 be to the dwelling-place of fair-haired Rhadamanthus 
 in the Islands of the Blest. And old Neleus followed 
 swiftly in his footsteps, his feeble life snuffed out by 
 the mad hand of Heracles. Nor did great Heracles 
 
172 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 himself long survive the evil deed and the wrath of the 
 eternal powers. But now he sits enthroned on high 
 Olympus, and walks the earth no more." 
 
 "Pray tell us how it all came about," said King 
 Laertes anxiously. 
 
 Then the old news-monger, prefacing his story with a 
 sad, wild song, told how the greatest hero of the Golden 
 Age met at last his master, even Death, the master of 
 all earth's creatures. And this was the story that he 
 told: — 
 
 " When Heracles fled from Calydon, as you already 
 know, he went to Trachis in Thessaly, close by the 
 springs of CEta ; and there he abode a long time. Yet 
 his mind was ill at rest, and dire forebodings filled his 
 soul; for cruel Here was threatening him with madness, 
 such as had once before darkened his life and driven 
 him to deeds too terrible to think upon. And so, at 
 length, he kissed his dear wife and his lovely babes, 
 and went forth to wander once more in loneliness from 
 land to land. He knew that he would not return ; 
 and, unknown to Deianeira, he left in his dwelling a 
 letter, such as men write when they feel that the end is 
 drawing nigh. In it he told how the doves in the old 
 oaks of Dodona had shown him that within the space 
 of a year and three months he should depart from this 
 earth ; and then he gave directions how his goods 
 should be given to his children and his friends, and 
 what they should do to hold his memory in honor. 
 
How a Great Hero met his Master. 173 
 
 "After this he took ship, and came by sea to his 
 old home at Tiryns, where erstwhile he had served 
 his brother and task-master, Eurystheus. There he 
 sojourned many days ; and there he met Iphitus of 
 CEchalia, his friend in early youth, seeking twelve 
 horses of great worth and beauty, which had been 
 stolen from him. 
 
 " ' Go you to Pherae in Messene,' said Heracles, his 
 mind even then verging towards madness. ' It may be 
 that the beasts have been taken by the lawless men of 
 that country, for they live by robbery. But if you fail 
 to find your horses there, come again to Tiryns, and 
 report to me ; and then I will aid you, even though we 
 should have to seek them in the pasture lands of old 
 Autolycus beneath the shadow of Parnassus.' 
 
 " So Iphitus, with a score of his bravest followers, 
 went down into Messene and Laconia, and even to the 
 gates of Lacedasmon, looking for his horses. But he 
 found no traces of the beasts ; and in time he came 
 again to Tiryns, as the great hero had directed him. 
 
 "Sad, however, was the day of his return, for the 
 mind of Heracles was shrouded in deep darkness. 
 While Iphitus sat as a guest at his table, the mighty 
 son of Zeus arose in his madness, and slew him ; and 
 Heracles cared not for the vengeance of the gods, nor 
 for the honor of his own board. Moreover, the goodly 
 horses of Iphitus were even then feeding in his stables 
 at Tiryns, for Heracles himself had found them. 
 
 "But after this the light began to struggle feebly 
 
1 74 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 in his mind, and the thought of his crime bore heavily 
 upon him. Then he remembered old Neleus, the most 
 ancient of men, and knew that he sat in the market- 
 place at Pylos dealing out justice to all who came to 
 him. And straightway he went by the nearest road 
 to Pylos, and besought Neleus the venerable to purify 
 him for the evil deed that he had done. But Iphitus 
 and his father, old Eurytus, had been very dear to 
 Neleus, — comrades and friends, indeed, in the stirring 
 days of their youth. 
 
 " ' The blood of good Iphitus be upon you,' said the 
 old man to Heracles ; and he would not purify him, 
 neither would he comfort him with words of kindness. 
 
 " Then madness again overpowered the great hero, 
 and in his wrath he marched through Pylos breathing 
 slaughter. And he slew old Neleus in the market- 
 place, and put his sons and the elders of Pylos to 
 the sword, sparing only the knightly Nestor, most dis- 
 creet of men. But the fury of the great hero was not to 
 run unchecked. The ever-living powers can never look 
 with favor upon that man who slays his guest in his 
 halls or who deals harshly with old age. And so they 
 caused Heracles to be sold to Omphale, queen of 
 Lydia, to serve her as a bond-slave for a year and a day. 
 And in that far-distant land he toiled at many a thank- 
 less task until the days of his bondage were ended 
 Yet the great cloud was only a little way lifted from his 
 mind, and he thought to himself that all the misery that 
 had ever been his had come upon him through the 
 
How a Great Hero met his Master. 175 
 
 house of Eurytus. So he swore with a great oath, 
 that, when he had gotten his freedom, he would utterly 
 destroy CEchalia, and would sell all its people into 
 bondage. For, in a dazed, unreasoning way, he remem- 
 bered fair Iole, and the slight which Eurytus had put 
 upon him when he made trial of his skill in archery. 
 
 " Now, when he was set free, he remembered all too 
 well the vow which he had made ; and when he had 
 overthrown CEchalia, and had taken captive all the 
 fair women and children, he bethought him that he 
 would go again to Trachis where his wife and children 
 still dwelt. But on his way thither he stopped for a 
 time in Eubcea to offer sacrifice to Zeus ; and he sent 
 his herald Lichas on before him, with certain of the 
 captives. When Lichas came to Trachis, and made 
 himself known to Deianeira, she asked him what word 
 he had brought from Heracles his master. 
 
 "'He is alive and well,' said the herald, 'and he 
 tarries for a while in Eubcea to build an altar to Zeus.' 
 
 " ' Why does he do that ? ' asked Deianeira. 
 
 " ' He does it to fulfil a vow,' answered the herald, — 
 'a vow which he made ere yet he had overthrown 
 CEchalia and had led captive these fair women whom 
 thou seest.' 
 
 " Then Deianeira drew nearer, and looked with pity 
 upon the captives as they stood in sad array on the 
 shore of the desolate sea. And she lifted her hands 
 toward heaven, and prayed that the great powers would 
 keep her from such a fate and would shield her children 
 
176 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 that so sad an evil should never overtake them. Then 
 she saw that one among the captives was much more 
 beautiful than the others, tall and very fair, with long 
 golden tresses, and eyes as round as the moon and as 
 blue as the deep sea. And Deianeira, wondering 
 whether she were not some great man's daughter, 
 asked her who she was ; but the sad captive answered 
 not a word. The tender heart of the queen was filled 
 with pity ; and she bade that the beautiful lady should 
 be taken into the great hall of Heracles, and treated 
 with the utmost kindness, that so she should not have 
 sorrow heaped upon sorrow. Then she asked Lichas 
 to tell her who the lady was ; but he said that he knew 
 not, save that she seemed to be well born. 
 
 " But now when Lichas had gone to the tents by the 
 shore, there came to Deianeira in the palace a mischief- 
 maker who told her that Lichas had not answered truly 
 in this matter. 
 
 " ' He knows, as well as I, who this fair stranger 
 is,' said the mischief-maker. ' She is the daughter of 
 King Eurytus of CEchalia, and the sister of Iphitus. 
 Her name is Iole ; and it was for the sake of her 
 beauty that Heracles destroyed her father's city.' 
 
 " Then Deianeira was sadly troubled lest the heart 
 of the great hero should be turned away from her, and 
 his affections set upon this lovely captive. So she sent 
 again for Lichas, and questioned him still further. At 
 first he denied that he knew any thing about the fair 
 lady ; but afterwards, when hard pressed, he said, 
 
DEIANEIRA AND THE DYING CENTAUR NESSUS. 
 

How a Great Hero met his Master. 177 
 
 'She is indeed Iole, the fair damsel whom Heracles 
 loved in the springtime of youth. But why he has 
 brought this great grief upon her, and upon her 
 father's house, I cannot tell' 
 
 " Sorely troubled now was Deianeira, and all day long 
 she sat in her chamber, and pondered what she should 
 do. And when the evening was come, she called her 
 friends together, the women and maidens who dwelt 
 in Trachis, and talked with them. 
 
 " • I have been thinking of what I can do to keep 
 my husband's love,' she said. ' I had almost forgotten 
 that I have a charm which will help me, or I might not 
 have been so sadly troubled. Years and years ago, 
 when we were fleeing from my dear old home at Caly- 
 don, we came to the river Evenus. The water was 
 very deep, and the current very swift ; but there lived 
 on the banks of the stream an old Centaur, named 
 Nessus, whose business it was to ferry travellers across 
 to the other shore. He first took my husband safely 
 over, and then myself and our little son Hyllus. But 
 he was so rude, and withal so savage in his manners, 
 that Heracles was greatly angered at him ; and he 
 drew his bow, and shot the brutish fellow with one of 
 his poisoned arrows. Then my woman's heart was 
 filled with pity for the dying Centaur, wicked though 
 he was ; and I felt loath to leave him suffering alone 
 upon the banks of Evenus. And he, seeing me look 
 back, beckoned me to him. " Woman," he said, " I am 
 dying ; but first I would give thee a precious gift. 
 
178 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 Fill a vial with the blood that flows from this wound, 
 and it shall come to pass that if ever thy husband's 
 affections grow cold, it will serve as a charm to make 
 him love thee as before. It needs only that thou 
 shouldst smear the blood upon a garment, and then 
 cause him to wear the garment so that the heat of the 
 sun or of a fire shall strike upon it." I quickly filled 
 the vial, as he directed, and hastened to follow my 
 husband.' 
 
 " Then Deianeira called the herald Lichas, and said, 
 ' Behold, here is a fair white garment which I have 
 woven with my own hands ; and I vowed many days 
 ago, that, if my husband should again come home, I 
 would give him this garment to wear while offering 
 sacrifice. Now he tarries, as you say, to do homage to 
 the gods in Euboea. Go back, therefore, to meet him, 
 and give him this white robe as a gift from his wife. 
 Say to him that on no account shall he let another 
 wear it ; and that he shall keep it carefully folded up, 
 away from the light and the heat, until he shall be 
 ready to clothe himself in it.' 
 
 "The herald promised to do as he was bidden ; and in 
 that same hour he hastened back to meet his master 
 in Eubcea, taking with him his master's young son 
 Hyllus. 
 
 "Not many days after this, a great cry and sad 
 bewailings were heard in the house of Heracles ; and 
 Deianeira rushed forth from her chamber crying aloud 
 that she had done some terrible deed. ' For I 
 
How a Great Hero met his Master. 179 
 
 anointed the fair robe which I sent to my husband 
 with the blood of Nessus the Centaur; and now, 
 behold, the bit of woollen cloth which I dipped into the 
 charm, and used as a brush in spreading it upon the 
 robe, is turned to dust, as if a fire had burned it 
 up. I have not forgotten any thing that the Centaur 
 told me : how I was to keep the charm where neither 
 the light of the sun nor the heat of the fire could 
 touch it. And this I have done until now ; only the 
 bit of woollen cloth was left lying in the sunshine. 
 Oh, fearful am I that I have slain my husband ! For 
 why should the Centaur wish to do well by the man 
 who brought death upon him ? ' 
 
 " Hardly had she spoken these words when her son 
 Hyllus came in great haste to the palace, even into the 
 woman's hall where she stood. 
 
 " ' O my mother ! ' he cried. ' Would that you were 
 not my mother ! For do you know that you have this 
 day brought death and destruction upon my father.' 
 
 " ' Oh, say not so, my son,' wailed Deianeira. ' It 
 cannot be ! ' 
 
 " ' But truly it is so,' said Hyllus. ' For when 
 Lichas and myself came to Euboea bearing the white 
 robe which you sent, we found my father ready to 
 begin his offering of sacrifices. And he was glad 
 to see me and to hear from you ; and he took the beau- 
 tiful robe and put it upon him. Then he slew twelve 
 fair oxen, and joyfully worshipped the ever-living 
 powers. But when the fire grew hot, the deadly robe 
 
180 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 began to cling to him, and pangs, as if caused by the 
 stings of serpents, shot through him, and the pains ol 
 death seized on him. He asked Lichas why he had 
 brought that robe ; and when the herald told him 
 that it was your gift, he seized the wretch, and cast 
 him over the cliff upon the sharp rocks beneath. 
 And great fear filled the hearts of all who saw the 
 sufferings of the mighty hero ; and none of them 
 dared come near him, so terrible were his struggles. 
 Then he called to me, and said, " Come here, my son. 
 Do not flee from your father in his great distress ; but 
 carry me from this land, and set me where the eyes of 
 no man shall see me." And so we put him in the hold 
 of our good ship, and brought him home with us to 
 Trachis. And soon you shall see what you have done ; 
 for you have slain your husband, — a hero the like of 
 whom the world shall never see again.' 
 
 "When Deianeira heard these words she made no 
 answer, but, with one despairing cry, she hasted to 
 her high-built chamber ; and when, soon afterward, her 
 maidens sought her there, she was dead. Then Hyllus 
 came, also seeking her ; for the women of the house- 
 hold had told him how she had been deceived by the 
 dying Centaur. And when he saw her lifeless form, he 
 wept bitterly, and cried out that now indeed the Fates 
 had bereft him of both father and mother on the same 
 day. 
 
 " Then they brought Heracles into his own broad 
 hall, bearing him upon a litter. He was asleep ; for the 
 
How a Great Hero met his Master. 181 
 
 pain had left him a little while, and tired Nature was 
 taking her dues. But the sad wailings of his son awoke 
 him ; and again he cried aloud in his agony, and be- 
 sought those who stood around him that they would 
 give him a sword wherewith to end his pain. Then 
 Hyllus came into the hall, and told his father all about 
 the terrible mistake which his mother had made, and 
 how the Centaur had deceived her, and how she was at 
 that moment lying dead, with a broken heart, in the 
 chamber overhead. 
 
 "'Then, indeed, is my doom come,' cried Heracles. 
 ' For long ago the oracles spake of me, that I should 
 die, not by the hands of any living being, but by the 
 guile of one dwelling in the regions of the dead. So 
 now Nessus, whom I slew so long ago, is avenged ; for 
 he has slain me. Now, my son, carry me to the wooded 
 summit of the hill of CEta, and build there a great pile 
 of olive beams and of oak ; and, when it is finished, lay 
 me upon it, and set fire unto it. And shed no tear, 
 neither utter any cry, but work in silence ; for thus 
 thou shalt prove thyself a son of Heracles.' 
 
 " The boy promised to do all this as his father wished, 
 only he would not set fire to the pile. So when he had 
 built the pile, and had put between the beams great 
 stores of spices and sweet-smelling herbs, they laid 
 Heracles upon it ; and Philoctetes, the hero's armor- 
 bearer, set fire to the pile. And Heracles, for this 
 kindness, gave to Philoctetes his famous bow, — a 
 weapon more marvellous even than the bow of Eurytus. 
 
1 82 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 Then the red flames shot high towards heaven, shed- 
 ding brightness over land and sea ; and the mighty 
 hero was at rest. He had met his master." 
 
 Such was the story that the old news-monger told 
 in the hall of King Laertes. 
 
ADVENTURE XV. 
 
 LONG LIVE THE KING! 
 
 "Surely," sighed Laertes, "the old heroes pass 
 away ; but the younger heroes press hard in their foot- 
 steps, and will fill their places well. The gods have 
 written it in every tree, and upon every blade of grass, 
 that the aged, however worthy, cannot endure forever. 
 The ripened fruit falls to the ground, but there will bfe 
 other and better fruit on the branches by and by. An- 
 cient Cronos gave place, not willingly, to Zeus ; and 
 Zeus is by far the greater of the two. And there be 
 certain oracles which have foretold the doom of Zeus ; 
 even that he shall be hurled from his throne by a king 
 of peace, who shall reign everlastingly." 
 
 Then on a day, he called the elders of Ithaca 
 together, and spoke to them in this wise : " My son 
 Odysseus is now a grown-up man, wise and shrewd 
 beyond any other among you. He is skilled in all kinds 
 of knowledge and of handicraft ; in matters of judg- 
 ment he is without a peer, and in matters requiring 
 courage he is foremost among men. Moreover, he is 
 married to a wife, sweet Penelope, unexcelled in f/itely 
 
 «»3 
 
1 84 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 virtues; and he has a son and heir, Telemachus, — a 
 smiling babe who has not yet seen the round of one full 
 moon. Now, why should the old branch stand longer 
 in the way of the new and vigorous shoot ? This day 
 I will give up my kingdom to my son, and he shall 
 henceforth rule this island in his own name." 
 
 And all the people rejoiced when they heard his 
 words ; and straightway they hailed Odysseus king of 
 Ithaca, and offered thanksgiving and sacrifice to Pallas 
 Athene, who had blessed him with wisdom above 
 that of other men. And good Laertes retired to his 
 mountain farm, where no vexing questions of govern- 
 ment would take him away from his vines and fruit- 
 trees. " Here," said he, " I hope to end my days in 
 peace." 
 
 When the men of Cephallenia and the dwellers in 
 the rugged island of Zacynthus heard that young 
 Odysseus ruled by his own right in Ithaca, they came 
 and offered him their friendship and allegiance ; for 
 they were kinsmen of the Ithacans. They brought 
 rich presents of corn and wine and of long-wooled 
 sheep, and promised to bear him aid in time of need, 
 if ever that time should come. 
 
 At about this time, old Icarius, the father of Penel- 
 ope, came to Ithaca for a brief visit to his daughter. 
 For his eyes had long yearned to see her, and he could 
 find no rest until he knew that she was happy and well 
 cared for in the new home which she had chosen. 
 And Penelope asked him a thousand questions about 
 
Long Live the King! 185 
 
 her friends and her kinsfolk in dear old Lacedaemon, 
 and to all these questions he made answer as he best 
 knew. 
 
 "We have now a new king at Lacedaemon," said 
 Icarius, "even brave Menelaus, the husband of your 
 cousin Helen." 
 
 "But where is King Tyndareus, my good uncle?" 
 asked Penelope. "And where are my noble twin 
 cousins, Castor and Polydeuces ? Do they share the 
 kingdom with Menelaus ? " 
 
 " I will tell you all about it," answered her father. 
 And then he told her how it had come about that 
 Menelaus was called to the kingship of Lacedaemon : — 
 
 " As the feebleness of age began to take hold upon 
 him, King Tyndareus bethought him that he would 
 resign his kingdom to his sons, the twin heroes Castor 
 and Polydeuces. But the restless youths cared not to 
 take upon them duties which would keep them within 
 the narrow bounds of Lacedaemon ; for they were not 
 home-stayers, but they wandered hither and thither over 
 many seas and through strange lands, doing brave and 
 noble deeds innumerable. The story of their labors in 
 times of peace and of their prowess in times of war 
 was upon every tongue, and was sung by minstrels 
 in every city of Hellas. Wherever public games were 
 held, there the twins were the masters of the course 
 and the field, and the awarders of the prizes. Wher- 
 ever battles raged and where the fight was thickest, 
 
1 86 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 there the glorious heroes, on their snow-white steeds, 
 were seen striking fearlessly for the cause of right. 
 And men told how it was they who first taught the 
 bards to sing songs of battle and paeans of victory ; and 
 how it was they who first showed the glad feet of the 
 victors how to tread the wild mazes of the war-dance ; 
 and how it was they who, in their friendship for sea- 
 farers, had guided many a vessel over the roughest seas, 
 safe into the wished-for haven. They belonged not 
 more to their native Lacedasmon than to the whole 
 wide world. 
 
 "There came a time, however, when the men of 
 Laconia quarrelled with their neighbors of Arcadia, 
 and there was war upon the borders. Then Castor 
 and Polydeuces hastened to take sides with their kins- 
 men. Mounted on their swift steeds, Phlogios and 
 Harpagos, the gifts of Hermes, they made raid after 
 raid across the mountains ; and they brought back 
 many a choice herd of cattle, or flock of sheep, from 
 the pasture lands of Arcadia. 
 
 " It happened on a day, that their cousins Idas and 
 Lynceus, two lawless men from Messene, joined them, 
 and the four drove many cattle across the borders, and 
 hid them in a glen at the foot of Mount Taygetus. 
 Then they agreed that Idas should divide the booty 
 into four parts, and give to each a part. But Idas was 
 a crafty man, more famed for his guile than for his 
 courage ; and he planned how he might take all the 
 herd for his own. So he killed a fat ox, and having 
 
Long Live the King! 187 
 
 flayed and dressed it, he cut it into four parts. Then 
 he called the other men about him. 
 
 " ' It would be a great pity to divide so fine a herd as 
 this of ours among four owners,' he said. 'Therefore 
 I have a plan by which one, or at most two of us, may 
 fairly gain the whole. Behold, here are the four quar- 
 ters of the ox which I have slain. This quarter belongs 
 to Castor, this to Polydeuces, this to Lynceus, and this 
 to myself. He who first eats the share allotted to him 
 shall have half of the cattle for his own ; he who next 
 finishes shall have the other half.' 
 
 "Then, without another word, he began to eat the 
 quarter which he had allotted to himself ; nor was he 
 long devouring it, but with greedy haste consumed it 
 before his comrades had tasted even a morsel. Next 
 he seized upon the part assigned to Lynceus, and ate it 
 as quickly as his own. 
 
 " ' The cattle are all mine ! ' he cried. And calling 
 upon his brother to help him, they drove the whole herd 
 into Messene. 
 
 " Then anger filled the souls of the twin heroes, and 
 they vowed to take vengeance upon their crafty kins- 
 men. One night when the moon lighted up both plain 
 and mountain with her silvery beams, they made a rapid 
 ride into Messene, and brought back not only the herd 
 which Idas had taken from them by fraud, but as many 
 cattle as were feeding in the Messenian meadows. 
 Then, knowing that their cousins would follow them 
 in hot haste, they hid themselves in the hollow 
 
1 88 A Siory of the Golden Age. 
 
 of a tree in the mountain pass, and waited for the 
 morning. 
 
 "At break of day, the two Messenians, having missed 
 their cattle, hastened to follow their trail to Mount 
 Taygetus. Then Lynceus, whose sharp eyes could see 
 through rocks and the trunks of trees, climbed to the 
 top of a crag to look about them ; for they feared lest 
 they should fall into an ambush. And as he peered 
 into every nook and glen and gorge of the wild moun- 
 tain, he saw the twins close-hidden in the hollow 
 trunk of an oak. Then quickly he descended, and with 
 stealthy tread he and Idas drew near their hiding-place. 
 Castor saw them first ; but before he could speak, a 
 spear from the hand of Idas laid him low in death. 
 Then mighty Polydeuces leaped forth in his wrath, and 
 rushed upon the slayers of his brother. Fear seized 
 upon them, and they fled with winged feet into Mes- 
 sene, and paused not until they stood by the marble 
 tomb of their father, great Aphareus. But Polydeuces, 
 following on, overtook them there, and with his spear 
 he smote Lynceus a deadly blow. At the same time, a 
 peal of thunder shook the mountain and rolled over the 
 plain ; and Zeus hurled his fiery bolts at the bosom of 
 crafty Idas, and laid him dead upon his father's tomb. 
 
 " The grief of Polydeuces for the death of Castor was 
 terrible to see ; and there was no one in all the world 
 who could comfort him, or in any way make him forget 
 his loss. Then he prayed the gods that they would 
 take him, too, to Hades, that he might be in the dear 
 
Long Live the King! 189 
 
 company of his brother. And Zeus heard his prayer ; 
 and he asked Polydeuces to choose whether he would 
 sit in the courts of Olympus, and be the peer of Ares 
 and Pallas Athene, or whether he would share all things 
 with Castor. And the glorious hero cried, ' Let me 
 be forever with my brother ! ' His wish was granted 
 to him ; and the twin heroes still live, although the 
 quickening earth lies over them. One day they wander 
 in the fields of asphodel, and enjoy the bliss of immor- 
 tality ; the next, they flit among the unquiet shades in 
 the sunless regions of the dead. And thus they share 
 together whatever of joy or woe the grave can bring. 
 
 " When King Tyndareus learned that he was bereft 
 of his sons, he fell prone to the earth ; and no one in 
 Lacedaemon could console him. ' Send for Helen, my 
 peerless daughter ! ' he cried. ' Send for Menelaus. 
 He is my only son. He shall dwell in my palace, and 
 rule in my stead ! ' 
 
 " And that is the way in which it came about, that 
 Menelaus was called to the kingship of Lacedaemon." 
 
 Old Icarius remained but a short time at Ithaca. A 
 ship was waiting in the harbor, ready to sail to Pylos 
 and the ports beyond; and he knew that a like oppor- 
 tunity to return to Lacedaemon might not soon be 
 offered. And so, leaving his blessing with his children 
 Odysseus and Penelope and the babe Telemachus, he 
 departed. 
 
 
ADVENTURE XVI. 
 
 THE CHILDREN OF PROMETHEUS. 
 
 There was sore distress in Lacedasmon. Famine 
 and a deadly pestilence grieved the land, and in ever} 
 household the notes of wailing and despair were heard. 
 For Apollo, vexed because the men of Laconia were so 
 slow to understand his wishes, was shooting his fateful 
 arrows broadcast among them. Like a night-cloud he 
 brooded over the land, and strong men and fair women 
 and helpless babes all fell alike beneath the sharp blows 
 of his deadly shafts. And the heart of Menelaus the 
 king was burdened with grief because of the people's 
 sore affliction. Then, when he found that sacrifice of 
 lambs and goats availed him nothing, he sent in haste 
 to ask the oracles the cause of Apollo's wrath, and to 
 learn what could be done to stay the plague. The 
 answer came as quickly : — 
 
 "When the bones of the children of Prometheus 
 
 are brought from Ilios, and entombed in Lacedaemon, 
 
 then the wrath of silver-bowed Apollo shall be turned 
 
 aside, and the smiles of his favor shall bless the 
 
 land." 
 
 190 
 
The Children of Prometheus. 191 
 
 Then Menelaus made ready to depart at once to Troy 
 to do that which Apollo demanded. A short journey 
 by land brought him to the strong-built town of Helos 
 on the shore of the eastern sea. There a swift-sailing 
 ship lay at its moorings, while a score of long-haired 
 seamen paced the beach, anxious to embark upon any 
 errand across Poseidon's watery kingdom. The captain 
 hailed the king with joy, and the ship was soon made 
 ready for the long voyage to Ilios. A plenteous stock 
 of food was stored away in the broad hold ; arms, for 
 defence against sea robbers and savage men, were put 
 in order, and hung in their places ; and rich presents 
 for Priam, king of Troy, were taken on board. 
 
 The next day a favoring wind sprang up ; the sails 
 were set ; the seamen took their places ; and the ship 
 with King Menelaus on board sped on its way to dis- 
 tant Ilios. Poseidon, looking out from his golden 
 palace beneath the sea, saw the vessel as it hastened 
 on its errand ; and he bade the waves be still and in 
 no wise hinder its speed, for Apollo's business must not 
 be delayed ; and he called upon the breezes to blow 
 steadily towards Ilios, that so the embassy of Menelaus 
 might be happily performed. 
 
 "Surely the gods are all in league with us," said the 
 captain of the ship one day, pleased with the delightful 
 voyage. " To-morrow we shall doubtless sight the Les- 
 bian coast, and from thence it is but a short sail to Ilios 
 and Troy. And now, as we sit together in the prow of 
 our good vessel, I pray you to tell us the story, once 
 
192 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 more, of great Prometheus, the bones of whose children 
 seem so precious to Apollo." 
 
 And Menelaus willingly consented, and told the story 
 as he himself had oft-times heard it from the bards : — 
 
 "When Zeus waged pitiless war upon the Titans, and 
 hurled them headlong from the heights of Mount Olym- 
 pus, he spared from the general ruin those who fought 
 not with their own kindred, but espoused his cause. 
 Among these and foremost of all was great Prometheus, 
 whose name is Forethought, and whose chiefest glory 
 lies in this, that he was the friend and lover of man- 
 kind. It was the hope of bettering man's condition 
 that led him to fight against his kindred, and to aid in 
 placing Zeus upon the throne of ancient Cronos. Yet 
 Zeus cared naught for the feeble children of earth, but 
 sought rather to make their burdens heavier and their 
 lives more sad, that so the race might perish utterly. 
 And the great mind of Prometheus set to work to 
 learn how to make their lot less sad and their lives less 
 miserable. 
 
 " He saw that as yet they dwelt without forethought 
 upon the earth, their life's whole length being aimless, 
 and their minds as void of reason as is the beast's. 
 They lived in sunless caverns, or in holes scooped in 
 the ground ; and no provision did they make for heat or 
 cold or times of scarcity, or the varying needs of youth 
 and age. And Prometheus wasted no vain words in 
 pity, but took at once upon him the Titanic task of lift- 
 
The Children of Prometheus. 193 
 
 ing the race up to a level with the gods. First, he 
 taught them the use of fire, which, some say, he stole 
 from Helios' car, and brought to the earth, hidden in a 
 fennel-stalk. Then he showed them how the stars rise 
 and set, and how the seasons change in never-varying 
 order. He showed them how to yoke and make sub- 
 missive to their will the wild steeds of the desert plain ; 
 how to turn the sod beneath the soil by means of the 
 furrowing plough ; and how to build fair houses and 
 cities with strong walls and frowning towers. He 
 taught them how to make ships, the storm-winged char- 
 iots of the sea, and how to navigate the briny deep. 
 He showed them the treasures which lie hidden under- 
 neath the ground, — gold, silver, iron, — and taught 
 them how to turn them into forms of beauty, strength, 
 and use. In short, all arts now known to men came to 
 them from the hands and mind of pitying Prometheus. 
 
 " Now, when Zeus looked down from high Olympus, 
 and saw the puny tribes of men no longer grovelling in 
 the earth like senseless beasts, but standing upright, 
 and claiming kinship with the gods, he shook with pent- 
 up anger. And he called two of his mightiest servants, 
 Strength and Force, whom none can resist, and bade 
 them seize the friend of man, and bind him upon a peak 
 of the snow-crowned Caucasus, there to linger through 
 the ages in loneliness and pain. 
 
 " Then the ruthless slaves of Zeus went forth to do 
 his bidding. They seized the mighty Titan, and dragged 
 \im to the bleak and barren regions of the Caucasus, 
 
1 94 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 beyond the utmost limit of the habitable earth. And 
 with them went the mighty smith Hephaestus, all un- 
 willingly, to bind the great victim with bonds of brass, 
 which none could loose, to the lonely mountain crags. 
 
 " 'This thing I do loathing,' said Hephaestus. ' Here 
 I must perforce leave thee, chained and bolted to the 
 immovable rocks. Thou shalt never behold the face of 
 man, nor hear the accents of his voice ; but the blaze 
 of the unpitying sun shall scorch thy fair skin, and 
 thou shalt long for the night with its shimmering stars 
 to cast a veil of coolness over thee. Year after year, 
 thou shalt keep thy lonely watch in this joyless place, 
 unblest with sleep, and uttering many a cry and un- 
 availing moan. For Zeus is pitiless. This is what 
 thou gainest for befriending man.' 
 
 " There, then, they left him fettered ; but not until 
 rude Strength had taunted him : ' Lo, thou lover of 
 mankind ! Call now the puny race of mortals round 
 thee, and crown them with honors ! Could all of them 
 together lessen thy punishment in the least ? Surely 
 the gods did jest when they gave thee the name of 
 " Forethought," for thou hast need of forethought to 
 free thee from these bonds.' 
 
 "Then, when the solitary sufferer knew that there 
 was no one to hear him, save only the sun, and the 
 earth and the winds, and the winding river and the dis* 
 tant sea, he broke forth in grievous cries and lamen- 
 tations : — 
 
 " ' O pitying sky, and swift -winged winds, and river- 
 
The Children of Prometheus. 195 
 
 springs, and the many-twinkling smile of ocean, I cry 
 to you ! O mother Earth, and thou all-seeing Sun ! 
 behold what I endure because I gave honor to mortals ! 
 Behold what torture is in store for me, while for ten 
 thousand years I writhe in these unseemly chains ! 
 Yet the things that come are all foreknown to me, and 
 nothing happens unexpected ; and I must bear as best 
 I may the ills that will perforce be mine, knowing that 
 the end of all these things shall come to me at last.' 
 
 " Then the Ocean nymphs, with the fragrance of 
 flowers and a rustling sound like the whirr of birds, 
 came floating through the air, and hovered about the 
 crag where Prometheus was bound. They had heard 
 the clank of the iron and the heavy blow of the sledge 
 resounding to the very cavern-depths of Ocean; and 
 they had hastened to come, and offer him their sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 " Following them, came old Oceanus himself, riding 
 in his winged chariot ; for no firmer friend had Pro- 
 metheus than this hoary-headed ancient of the encir- 
 cling sea. He came to condole with the suffering Titan, 
 and to counsel patience and submission. But he staid 
 not long. 
 
 " ' I will drink the cup of bitterness to its very dregs,' 
 said Prometheus, 'and will bide the time when Zeus 
 shall have quenched his wrath.' 
 
 " And Oceanus, feeling that he had come in vain, 
 turned about, and gladly hastened homeward to his 
 halls beneath the ocean billows. 
 
196 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " After this many others came, weeping tears of sor- 
 row for the sufferer, — tears of anger at the tyranny of 
 Zeus. And wails of mourning were borne thither on 
 the wings of the wind from all the tribes that dwelt 
 in Asia, — from the warrior maidens on the Colchian 
 coasts, from the savage horsemen of the Scythian 
 plains, and from the dwellers on the farther shores of 
 Araby. But the Titan, chained to the desolate crags, 
 suffered on. Above him the vultures hovered, and the 
 wild eagles shrieked ; and sun and storm beat merci- 
 lessly upon his head, as the weary days and the length- 
 ening years passed by. And yet no deliverance came. 
 
 " One day, as he writhed helplessly in his chains, 
 Prometheus saw in the valley below him what at so 
 great distance seemed to be a beautiful heifer, having a 
 fair face like that of a woman. * Surely,' said he aloud, 
 ' it is the child of Inachus, she who warmed the heart 
 of Zeus, and is now through Here's hate changed into 
 an unseemly shape, and driven to weary wanderings." 
 
 " Then the maiden gazed at him in wonder, and 
 asked, ' Who are you whom the gods have doomed to 
 suffer in this solitary place ? And how came you to 
 know my father's name, and the sorrows that have come 
 upon me ? And tell me, I pray, if such knowledge be 
 yours, whether there shall ever be any help for me, and 
 when my sufferings shall have an end.' 
 
 " The Titan answered, • I who speak to thee am Pro- 
 metheus, who brought down fire to men, and gave them 
 knowledge, and taught them how to do godlike things. 
 
The Children of Prometheus. 197 
 
 And I know that thou art Io, once the lovely daughter 
 of Inachus, king of Argos ; but what thou art now, let 
 thy own lips speak and answer.' 
 
 " ' I cannot choose but tell you all,' the maiden an- 
 swered, ' though my speech shall with sobs be broken 
 when I recall the memory of happy days forever gone. 
 There was a time when in my father's halls I dwelt in 
 maidenly freedom, a spoiled and petted child. But as I 
 grew to womanhood, dreams came to me which told me 
 that I was beloved by Zeus. Such trouble did these 
 visions bring to me, that I was fain to tell my father 
 of them. He knew not what to do. But he sent swift 
 messengers to Delphi and Dodona to ask the oracles 
 what the dreams portended, and how he could best give 
 pleasure to the gods. The answer came, that he should 
 drive me from his doors into the wide and cruel world, 
 or otherwise the fiery bolts of Zeus would burn up all 
 his household and destroy him utterly. Reluctantly 
 and weeping bitter tears, he shut me out ; and lo ! 
 straightway my body was changed into the loathed form 
 which stands before you, and a gad -fly stung me with 
 its fangs, and I rushed away in madness, vainly hoping 
 to find relief at Lerne's fountain water. But there the 
 herdsman Argus, with his hundred eyes, did track me 
 out ; and with his scourge and the goading fly, I was 
 driven along unending ways. Then Hermes, seeing 
 my distress, took pity on me, and sought to free me 
 from my cruel keeper But Argus never slept ; and with 
 his hundred eyes he saw every danger, and shunned it 
 
198 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 while it was yet afar. At last Hermes bethought him 
 of the power of music. Playing a soft melody on his 
 lute, he stole gently towards the herdsman ; the sweet 
 sounds charmed the savage ear, and sleep overpowered 
 the hundred eyes. Then Hermes drew his sword 
 quickly, and smote off the head of Argus, thus gaining 
 for himself the name of the Argus-queller. But the 
 shade of the terrible herdsman still follows me, and I 
 find no rest ; and aimlessly I have come, thus goaded 
 onward, to this wild mountain region.' 
 
 " Then Prometheus in pitying accents said, ' Listen 
 now to me, and I will tell thee, Io, what other sorrows 
 thou must bear from Here ; for it is she who brought 
 this woe upon thee and who hounds thee thus from land 
 to land. Thou shalt journey onward from these moun- 
 tain regions through the Scythian land, and the region 
 of the uncouth Chalybes who work in iron. Thence 
 thou shalt cross the mountains to the dwelling-place of 
 the Amazons, who shall lead thee to the place where 
 the ocean-gates are narrowest. There thou shalt 
 plunge into the waves, and swim with fearlessness of 
 heart to Asia's shore. And that strait shall by its 
 name, Bosphorus, tell to latest ages the story of thy 
 wandering. But what I have told thee is only the 
 beginning of thy doom.' 
 
 "Then Io wept. 
 
 " ' Were it not better to die,' she asked, ' than to 
 endure this hopeless misery ? ' 
 
 "'Not so, O maiden,' answered the Titan; 'for if 
 
PROMETHEUS. 
 
The Children of Prometheus. 1 99 
 
 thou livest, then a son of thine shall loose me from my 
 fetters, and perchance shall shake the throne of Zeus 
 himself. When thou hast crossed the sea-ways which 
 part the continent, thou shalt wander on until thou hast 
 reached the outmost islands where the Gorgons dwell ; 
 then returning thou shalt pass through the country of 
 the griffins and the region of Ethiopia, and shalt come 
 at last to the three-cornered ground where flows the 
 Nile. There thou shalt rest, and thy maiden form with 
 all its comeliness shall be thine again. In Canobus, a 
 fair city by the sea, shall a home be made for thee ; and 
 there shall Epaphos thy son be born, from whom in 
 after-times shall spring great Heracles, who shall break 
 my bonds and set me free from these hated fetters.' 
 
 " Then Io, with a sigh of mingled hope and despair, 
 went on her weary way, and left Prometheus alone 
 again in the everlasting solitudes. And the wild eagles 
 swooped down from their high-built nests, and circled 
 with threatening screams about him ; a grim vulture 
 flapped its wings in his face, and buried its talons 
 in his bosom ; a mighty storm came hurtling down 
 through the mountain passes ; the earth shook to and 
 fro, and the peaks of Caucasus seemed as if toppling 
 to their base ; a hurricane of snow and hail and rat- 
 tling ice smote the Titan about the head, and wrapped 
 his body in eddying gusts ; the lightnings leaped with 
 lurid glare athwart the sky, and the thunders crashed 
 with deafening roar among the crags ; "and earth and 
 air and sea seemed blent together in a mighty turmoil, 
 
200 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 and whirling into utter chaos. Yet, in the midst of all, 
 the old Titan quailed not ; but with voice serene and 
 strong he sang of the day when right shall triumph over 
 might, when truth shall trample error in the dust, and 
 the reign of Zeus give place to that of a nobler monarch 
 just and perfect in all his ways. 
 
 " Thus years upon years passed, and ages circled by, 
 until thirteen generations of men had lived and died 
 upon the earth. Then came Heracles, the descendant 
 of Io, to purge the world of vile monsters, and to give 
 freedom to those who were in bonds. And as he wan- 
 dered from land to land, to do the bidding of his master 
 Eurystheus, he passed through Ethiopia, and came to 
 the region of the Caucasus, close by the eastern Ocean's 
 stream. There, as he gazed upward at the everlasting 
 peaks, he saw the great Titan fettered to the naked 
 rock, while the eagles circled about him, and the grim 
 vulture digged its talons into his flesh ; and Heracles 
 knew that this was Prometheus the ancient, the friend 
 of the human race and the foe of tyrants. He drew his 
 bow, and with his unerring arrows slew the eagles and 
 the vulture ; and then, with mighty blows of his club, 
 he broke the chains which Hephaestus of old had 
 wrought, and with his strong hands he loosed the long- 
 suffering prisoner from his fetters. And the earth 
 rejoiced ; and men everywhere sang peeans of triumph, 
 because freedom had been given to him who raised 
 them from the dust, and endowed them with the light 
 of reason and the fire of god-like intelligence." 
 
The Children of Prometheus. 201 
 
 This was the tale which Menelaus told to a company 
 of eager listeners seated about him, in the prow of the 
 swift-sailing vessel. 
 
 "Now you should know," he added, "that every 
 lover of freedom in Hellas is in truth a child of Prome- 
 theus. And so when Apollo, through his oracle, bade 
 me fetch from Ilios the bones of the old Titan's chil- 
 dren, I understood that I was to gather the dust of all 
 the Hellenes who have died in the Trojan land, and 
 carry it to Lacedaemon for honored burial. And such 
 is the errand upon which we are sailing to-day." 
 
 " But why is it said that every Hellene is a child 
 of Prometheus ? " asked the captain. " Is it simply 
 because he is a lover of freedom and a hater of tyrants, 
 as the old Titan was ? Or is there a real line of kin- 
 ship reaching from us up to him ? " 
 
 " I will tell you," answered the king. " While Prome- 
 theus hung fettered to the bleak crag of Caucasus, and 
 in grim patience bided the day of deliverance, his son 
 Deucalion tilled the plains of Phthia, and gathered the 
 ripe fruits on its sunny hills. And he dwelt in peace 
 with all men, cherishing in his heart the words which 
 his father had spoken to him in former times. But the 
 world was full of wickedness, and there was violence 
 and bloodshed everywhere ; and men no longer haa 
 respect for the gods, or love for one another. 'We 
 are a law unto ourselves,' they cried. 'Why then 
 should any one obey the behests of a master whom he 
 has not seen ? ' And they went on eating and drink- 
 
202 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 ing and making merry, and gave no thanks to the giver 
 of every good. 
 
 " At length, when their wickedness waxed so great 
 that it was past all bearing, Zeus spoke the word, and 
 a mighty flood burst upon the land. The west wind 
 came sweeping in from the great sea, bringing in its 
 arms dark clouds laden with rain. And when Deuca- 
 lion saw the veil of darkness covering the sky, and 
 heard the roar of the hurricane in the valley below him, 
 he called to Pyrrha, his golden-haired wife, and said, 
 ' Surely, now, the day has come of which my father 
 told me often, — the day when floods of water shall 
 come upon the earth to punish the wickedness of men. 
 Hasten into the ark which I have built, that, if so be, 
 we may save ourselves from the merciless waves.' 
 
 " And they made the ark ready, and put a great store 
 of food in its broad hold, and waited for the rising of 
 the waters. Nor was it long ; for the torrents gushed 
 down from the hillsides and filled the valleys, and the 
 plains were covered over, and the forests sank from 
 sight beneath the waves. But Deucalion and Pyrrha 
 sat in the ark, and floated safely on the bosom of the 
 heaving waters. Day after day they drifted hither and 
 thither, until at last the ark rested on the lofty peak 
 of Parnassus. Then Deucalion and Pyrrha stepped out 
 upon the dry ground ; the rain ceased to fall, the clouds 
 were scattered, and the waters fled down the valleys 
 and hastened to the sea ; but all the people of Hellas, 
 save only Deucalion and Pyrrha, had perished in the 
 
The Children of Prometheus. 203 
 
 flood. And feeling their loneliness in the midst of the 
 ruin and death which had come upon the land, these 
 two built an altar to the gods, and offered thanks for 
 their deliverance. Then Zeus sent Hermes, the bright 
 messenger, to speak words of comfort to them. 
 
 "'Among all the folk of this land,' he said, 'you 
 alone have lived blameless lives, and with your clean 
 hands and pure hearts have pleased the immortals. Ask 
 now what you most desire, and it shall be given to 
 you.' 
 
 " Then Deucalion wept as he bowed before the mes- 
 senger. ' Grant that we may see the earth teeming 
 again with busy men,' he said. 
 
 '"It shall be as you wish,' answered Hermes. 'As 
 you go down the mountain into the plain, cover your 
 faces with your mantles, and throw the bones of your 
 mother behind you.' 
 
 "Then the messenger left them, and they wondered 
 between themselves what was the meaning of his words. 
 
 " ' Who is our mother ? ' asked Pyrrha. 
 
 " ' Is not the earth the mother of us all ? ' then an- 
 swered Deucalion. 'His meaning is plain enough now.' 
 
 " So, as they went down Parnassus, they took up 
 stones, and threw them behind them. And the stones 
 which Deucalion threw sprang up and were mighty 
 armed men ; and those which Pyrrha threw became fair 
 women. Thus the hills and the valleys were peopled 
 anew ; and the earth smiled and was glad that a new 
 and happier day had dawned. 
 
204 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " But Deucalion went with Pyrrha into Locris ; and 
 there he built the city of Opus, where he reigned king 
 for many years ; and there sons and daughters, noble 
 and beautiful, were born ; but the noblest was Hellen, 
 from whom the Hellenes are descended, and our country 
 of Hellas takes its name. 
 
 " Do you understand now how every one of us can 
 claim to be a son of great Prometheus ? " 
 
ADVENTURE XVII. 
 
 A CAUSE OF WAR. 
 
 Time passed. 
 
 Menelaus had returned from Ilios, bringing with him 
 the bones of his countrymen who had died in that dis- 
 tant land. The great plague had been stayed, for the 
 anger of Apollo had been assuaged. And it had seemed 
 for a time that the old days of peace and plenty had 
 come again to Lacedaemon, never to depart. 
 
 Yet within a few weeks all was changed once more. 
 There was silence in the golden halls of Menelaus, and 
 guests sat no longer as of yore around the banquet 
 tables. Anger and grief and uneasiness were plainly 
 seen in every face. Men gathered in the streets, and 
 talked in wild, excited tones about the strange things 
 which had lately happened in Lacedaemon; and the 
 words " Helen," and "Paris," and "Troy," and "Ilios" 
 seemed to be on every tongue, and repeated with every 
 sign of love and hatred, of admiration and anxiety. 
 
 " Our good king, by his visit to Ilios, lifted the 
 scourge of pestilence and famine from our land," said 
 one of the elders of the city ; " but he brought to our 
 
 ao«; 
 
206 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 shores a greater evil, — even Paris, the handsome prince 
 of Troy. And now the glory of our country, the sun 
 which delighted all hearts, the peerless Helen, has been 
 stolen by the perfidious one, and carried to his home 
 beyond the sea." 
 
 " And do you think there will be war ? " asked a long- 
 haired soldier, toying with the short dagger in his belt. 
 
 " How can it be otherwise ? " answered the elder. 
 "When Menelaus won peerless Helen for his wife, the 
 noblest princes of Hellas promised with solemn oaths 
 that they would aid him against any one who should try 
 either by guile or by force to take her from him. Let 
 the word be carried from city to city, and all Hellas will 
 soon be in arms. The king, with his brother Agamem- 
 non, has even now crossed over to Pylos to take counsel 
 with old Nestor, the wisest of men. When he comes 
 back to Lacedsemon, you may expect to see the watch- 
 fires blazing on the mountain-tops." 
 
 "No sight would be more welcome," answered the 
 soldier. 
 
 " None, indeed, save only the towers and palaces of 
 Troy in flames ! " returned the other earnestly. 
 
 Meanwhile, with troubled brow and anxious heart, 
 Menelaus sat in Nestor's halls, and told the story of 
 his wrongs. Before him, seated on a fair embroidered 
 couch, was the aged king, listening with eager ears. 
 Behind him stood his brother Agamemnon, tall and 
 strong, and with eye and forehead like mighty Zeus. 
 
A Cause of War. 207 
 
 Close by his feet two heroes sat : on this side, Antilo- 
 chus, the valiant son of Nestor ; and on that, sage 
 Palamedes, prince of Euboea's distant shores. The last 
 had just arrived at Pylos, and had not learned the 
 errand which had brought the king of Lacedaemon 
 thither. 
 
 "Tell again the story of your visit to Troy," said 
 Nestor. "Our guest, good Palamedes, would fain 
 understand it all ; and I doubt not that he may be of 
 service to your cause." 
 
 Then Menelaus began once more at the beginning, — 
 "There is no need that I should speak of the long 
 voyage to Ilios, or of the causes which persuaded me 
 to undertake it. When I drew near the lofty citadels 
 of Troy, and through the Scaean gates could see the 
 rows of stately dwellings and Athene's marble temple, 
 and the busy market-place of that great city, I stopped 
 there in wonder, fearing to venture farther. Then I 
 sent a herald to the gates, who should make known my 
 name and lineage, and the errand upon which I had 
 come ; but I waited without in the shade of a spread- 
 ing beech, not far from the towering wall. Before me 
 stood the mighty city ; behind me the fertile plain 
 sloped gently to the sea ; in the distance I could see 
 the tomb of Ilus and the sparkling waters of Sca- 
 mander; while much farther, and on the other side, 
 the wooded peak of Ida lifted itself toward the clouds. 
 But I had not long to view this scene ; for a noble 
 company of men led by Paris himself, handsome as 
 
208 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 Apollo, came out of the gates to welcome me. With 
 words of kind greeting from the king, they bade me 
 enter within the walls. They led me through the 
 Scaean gates and along the well-paved streets, until we 
 came, at last, to Priam's noble hall. It was a splendid 
 house, with broad doorways and polished porticos, and 
 marble columns richly carved. Within were fifty 
 chambers, joining one another, all walled with polished 
 stone ; in these abode the fifty sons of Priam with 
 their wedded wives. On the other side, and opening 
 into the court, were twelve chambers, built for his 
 daughters ; while over all were the sleeping-rooms for 
 that noble household, and around were galleries and 
 stairways leading to the king's great hall below. 
 
 "King Priam received me kindly, and, when he 
 understood my errand, left naught undone to help me 
 forward with my wishes. Ten days I abode as a guest 
 in his halls, and when I would return to Lacedaemon 
 he pressed me to tarry yet a month in Troy. But the 
 winds were fair, and the oracles promised a pleasant 
 voyage, and I begged that on the twelfth day he would 
 let me depart. So he and his sons brought many 
 gifts, rich and beautiful, and laid them at my feet, — a 
 fair mantle, and a doublet, and a talent of fine gold, 
 and a sword with a silver-studded hilt, and a drinking- 
 cup richly engraved that I might remember them when 
 I pour libations to the gods. 
 
 "'Take these gifts,' said Priam, 'as tokens of our 
 friendship for you, and not only for you, but for all who 
 
A Cause of War. 209 
 
 dwell in distant Hellas. For we too are the children 
 of the immortals. Our mighty ancestor, Dardanus, 
 was the son of Zeus. He it was who built Dardania 
 on the slopes of Ida, where the waters gush in many 
 silvery streams from underneath the rocky earth. To 
 Dardanus a son was born named Erichthonius, who, 
 in his time, was the richest of mortal men. And 
 Erichthonius was the father of Tros, to whom were 
 born three noble sons, Ilus, Assaracus, and Ganymedes. 
 The last was the handsomest of men, and for his beauty's 
 sake the gods carried him to Ida's sacred summit to 
 be the cup-bearer of Father Zeus and the companion 
 of the immortals. Then Ilus had a son, famous in 
 song and story, named Laomedon, who in his old age 
 became my father. He, though my sire, did many 
 unwise things, and brought sore distress upon the 
 people of this land. 
 
 " ' One day Apollo and Poseidon came to sacred Troy, 
 disguised as humble wayfarers seeking some employ- 
 ment. This they did because so ordered by mighty 
 Zeus. 
 
 '""What can you do?" asked my father, when the 
 two had told their wishes. 
 
 "' Poseidon answered, "I am a builder of walls." 
 
 "'And Apollo answered, "I am a shepherd, and a 
 tender of herds." 
 
 " ' " It is well," answered Laomedon. " The wall- 
 builder shall build a wall around this Troy so high and 
 strong that no enemy can pass it. The shepherd shah 
 
2 io A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 tend my herds of crook-horned kine in the wooded 
 glens of Ida. If at the end of a twelvemonth, the wall 
 be built, and if the cattle thrive without loss of one, 
 then I will pay you your hire : a talent of gold, two 
 tripods of silver, rich robes, and armor such as heroes 
 wear." 
 
 " ' So the shining archer, and the shaker of the earth, 
 served my father through the year for the hire which 
 he had promised. Poseidon built a wall, high and fair, 
 around the city ; and Apollo tended the shambling kine, 
 and lost not one. But when they claimed their hire, 
 Laomedon drove them away with threats, telling them 
 that he would bind their feet and hands together, and 
 sell them as slaves into some distant land, having first 
 sheared off their ears with his sharp sword. And the 
 twain went away with angry hearts, planning in their 
 minds how they might avenge themselves. 
 
 " ' Back to his watery kingdom, and his golden palace 
 beneath the sea, went great Poseidon. He harnessed 
 his steeds to his chariot, and rode forth upon the waves. 
 He loosed the mighty winds from their prison-house, 
 and sent them raging over the sea. The angry waters 
 rushed in upon the land ; they covered the pastures and 
 the rich plain of Troy, and threatened even to beat 
 down the mighty walls which their king had built. 
 Then, little by little, the flood shrank back again ; and 
 the people went out of the city to see the waste of slime 
 and black mud which covered their meadows. While 
 they were gazing upon the scene, a fearful monster, 
 
A Cause of War. 211 
 
 sent by angry Poseidon, came up out of the sea, and 
 fell upon them, and drove them with hideous slaughter 
 back to the city gates ; neither would he allow any one 
 to come outside of the walls. 
 
 " ' Then my father, in his great distress, clad himself 
 in mourning, and went in deep humility to the temple 
 of Athene^ where stands the heaven-sent statue which 
 we call Palladion. In sore distress, he called unto the 
 goddess, and besought to know the means whereby th»c 
 anger of Poseidon might be assuaged. And in solemn 
 tones a voice came from the moveless lips of the 
 Palladion, saying, — 
 
 " ' " Every day one of the maidens of Troy must be 
 fed to the monster outside of the walls. The shaker 
 of the earth has spoken. Disobey him not, lest more 
 cruel punishments befall thee." 
 
 "'Then in every house of Troy there was sore dis- 
 tress and lamentation, for no one knew upon whom the 
 doom would soonest fall. And every day a hapless 
 maiden, young and fair, was chained to the great rock 
 by the shore, and left there to be the food of the pitiless 
 monster. And the people cried aloud in their distress, 
 and cursed the mighty walls and the high towers which 
 had been reared by the unpaid labors of Poseidon ; and 
 my father sat upon his high seat, and trembled because 
 of the dire calamities which his own deeds had brought 
 upon his people. 
 
 " ' At last, after many humbler victims had perished, 
 the lot fell upon the fairest of my sisters, Hesione, my 
 
2M2 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 father's best-loved daughter. In sorrow we arrayed her 
 in garments befitting one doomed to an untimely death ; 
 and when we had bidden her a last farewell, we gave her 
 to the heralds to lead forth to the place of sacrifice. 
 Just then, however, a noble stranger, taller and more 
 stately than any man in Troy, came down the street 
 from the Scaean gate. Fair-haired and blue-eyed, hand- 
 some and strong, he seemed a very god to all who looked 
 upon him. Over his shoulder he wore the tawny skin 
 of a mighty lion, while in his hand he carried a club 
 most wonderful to behold. And the people, as he 
 passed, prayed him that he would free our city from the 
 dread monster who was robbing us of our fair loved 
 ones. 
 
 " ' " I know that thou art a god ! " cried my father, 
 when he saw the stranger. " I pray thee, save my 
 daughter, who even now is being led forth to a cruel 
 death ! " 
 
 it t u y ou make mistake," answered the fair stranger. 
 " I am not one of the gods. My name is Heracles, and 
 like you I am mortal. Yet I may help you in this your 
 time of need." 
 
 " ' Now, in my father's stables there were twelve fair 
 steeds, the best that the earth ever knew. So light of 
 foot were they, that when they bounded over the land, 
 they might run upon the topmost ears of ripened corn, 
 and break them not ; and when they bounded over the 
 sea, not even Poseidon's steeds could glide so lightly 
 upon the crests of the waves. Some say they were the 
 
A Cause of War. 213 
 
 steeds of Boreas given to my grandfather Tros, by his 
 sire Erichthonius ; others, that they were the price 
 which Zeus paid for godlike Ganymedes, most beautiful 
 of men. These steeds, my father promised to give to 
 Heracles if he would save Hesione. 
 
 " ' Then the heralds led my fair sister to the shore, 
 and chained her to the rock, there to wait for the 
 coming of the monster. But Heracles stood near her, 
 fearless in his strength. Soon the waves began to 
 rise ; the waters were disturbed, and the great beast, 
 with hoarse bellowings, lifted his head above the 
 breakers, and rushed forward to seize his fair prey. 
 Then the hero sprang to meet him. With blow upon 
 blow from his mighty club, he felled the monster; 
 the waters of the sea were reddened with blood ; 
 Hesione was saved, and Troy was freed from the dread- 
 ful curse. 
 
 " ' " Behold thy daughter ! " said Heracles, leading her 
 gently back to the Scaean gate, and giving her to her 
 father. "I have saved her from the jaws of death, and 
 delivered your country from the dread scourge. Give 
 me now my hire.' 
 
 " ' Shame fills my heart as I tell this story, for thank- 
 lessness was the bane of my father's life. Ungrateful 
 to the hero who had risked so much and done so much 
 that our homes and our country might be saved from 
 ruin, he turned coldly away from Heracles ; then he 
 shut the great gates in his face, and barred him out 
 of the city, and taunted him from the walls, saying, 
 
214 ^ Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " I owe thee no hire ! Begone from our coasts, ere 
 I scourge thee hence ! " 
 
 " ' Full of wrath, the hero turned away. " I go, but I 
 will come again," he said. 
 
 "'Then peace and plenty blessed once more the land 
 of Ilios, and men forgot the perils from which they 
 had been delivered. But ere long, great Heracles re- 
 turned, as he had promised ; and with him came a 
 mighty fleet of white-sailed ships and many warriors. 
 Neither gates nor strong walls could stand against him. 
 Into the city he marched, and straight to my father's 
 palace. All fled before him, and the strongest warriors 
 quailed beneath his glance. Here, in this very court, 
 he slew my father and my brothers with his terrible 
 arrows. I myself would have fallen before his wrath, 
 had not my sister, fair Hesione, pleaded for my life. 
 
 "'"I spare his life," said Heracles, in answer to her 
 prayers, " for he is but a lad. Yet he must be my slave 
 until you have paid a price for him, and thus redeemed 
 him." 
 
 " 'Then Hesione took the golden veil from her head, 
 and gave it to the hero as my purchase price. And 
 thenceforward I was called Priam, or the purchased ; 
 for the name which my mother gave me was Podarkes, 
 or the fleet-footed. 
 
 " 'After this, Heracles and his heroes went on board 
 their ships and sailed back across the sea, leaving me 
 alone in my father's halls. For they took fair Hesione 
 with them, and carried her to Salamis, to be the wife 
 
A Cause of War. 215 
 
 of Telamon, the sire of mighty Ajax. There, through 
 these long years she has lived in sorrow, far removed 
 from home and friends and the scenes of her happy 
 childhood. And now that the hero Telamon, to whom 
 she was wedded, lives no longer, I ween that her life is 
 indeed a cheerless one.' 
 
 " When Priam had finished his tale, he drew his seat 
 still nearer mine, and looked into my face with anxious, 
 beseeching eyes. Then he said, ' I have long wished 
 to send a ship across the sea to bring my sister back to 
 Troy. A dark-prowed vessel, built for speed and safety, 
 lies now at anchor in the harbor, and a picked crew is 
 ready to embark at any moment. And here is my son 
 Paris, handsome and brave, who is anxious to make 
 voyage to Salamis, to seek unhappy Hesione. Yet our 
 seamen, having never ventured far from home, know 
 nothing of the dangers of the deep, nor do they feel 
 sure that they can find their way to Hellas. And so 
 we have a favor to ask of you ; and that is, that when 
 your ship sails to-morrow, ours may follow in its wake 
 across the sea.' 
 
 " I was glad when Priam spoke these words, for, in 
 truth, I was loath to part with Paris ; and I arranged at 
 once that he should bear me company in my own swift 
 ship, while his vessel with its crew followed not far 
 behind. 
 
 "And so with favoring winds being blessed, we made 
 a quick voyage back to Lacedaemon, bringing with us 
 the bones of my beloved countrymen. What followed 
 
2 1 6 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 is too sad for lengthy mention, and is in part already 
 known to you. Need I tell you how I opened my halls 
 to Paris, and left no act of courtesy undone that I 
 might make him happy ? Need I tell you how he was 
 welcomed by fair Helen, and how the summer days fled 
 by on golden wings ; and how in the delights of Lace- 
 daemon he forgot his errand to Salamis, and cared only 
 to remain with me, my honored guest and trusted friend ? 
 One day a message came to me from my old friend Ido- 
 meneus. He had planned a hunt among the mountains 
 and wooded vales of Crete, and he invited me to join 
 him in the sport. I had not seen Idomeneus since the 
 time that we together, in friendly contention, sought 
 the hand of Helen. I could not do otherwise than 
 accept his invitation, for he had sent his own ship to 
 carry me over to Crete. So I bade farewell to Helen, 
 saying, ' Let not our noble guest lack entertainment 
 while I am gone ; and may the golden hours glide 
 happily until I come again.' And to Paris I said, 
 ' Tarry another moon in Lacedaemon ; and when I re- 
 turn from Crete, I will go with you to Salamis, and aid 
 you in your search for Hesione.' Then I went on board 
 the waiting ship, and prospering breezes carried us with- 
 out delays to Crete. 
 
 " Idomeneus received me joyfully, and entertained me 
 most royally in his palace ; and for nine days we feasted 
 in his halls, and made all things ready for the hunt. 
 But, lo ! on the evening of the last day, a vision came 
 to me. Gold-winged Iris, the fleet-footed messenger of 
 
A Cause of War. 217 
 
 the gods, stood before me. ' Hasten back to Lace 
 daemon,' she cried, ' for thou art robbed of thy dearest 
 treasure ! ' And even while she spoke, one of my own 
 ships came sailing into the harbor, bringing trusted 
 heralds whom the elders of Lacedaemon had sent to 
 me. They told me the fatal news. ' No sooner were 
 you well on your way,' they said, ' than Paris began to 
 put his ship in readiness to depart. Helen prayed him 
 to tarry until your return, but he would not hearken. 
 " I will stay no longer," he said. " My seamen rest 
 upon their oars ; the sails of my ship are spread ; the 
 breeze will soon spring up that will carry me to my own 
 fair home across the sea. But you, beauteous Helen, 
 shall go with me ; for the deathless gods have spoken 
 it. Aphrodite, long ago, promised that the most beau- 
 tiful woman in the world should be my wife. And who 
 is that most beautiful woman if it is not yourself? 
 Come ! fly over the sea, and be my queen. It is the 
 will of the gods." ' 
 
 " It was thus that the perfidious Trojan wrought the 
 ruin of all that was dear to me. At first, Helen refused. 
 But Paris is a handsome prince, and day after day he 
 renewed his suit. Then on the sixth day she yielded. 
 In the darkness of the night they went on board his 
 waiting vessel, carrying with them the gold and jewels 
 of my treasure-house ; and in the morning, when 
 the sun arose on Lacedaemon, they were far out at 
 sea. 
 
 " You know the rest : how in wrath and great sorrow 
 
2 1 8 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 I hurried home from Crete ; how I first counselled with 
 my own elders, and then with my brother Agamemnon 
 of Mycenae. And now, noble Nestor, we have come 
 to Pylos, seeking thy advice. On these two things my 
 mind is set : Helen must be mine again, and Paris must 
 suffer the punishment due to traitors." 
 
 When Menelaus had ended, sage Nestor answered 
 with many words of counsel. " Keep the thought of 
 vengeance ever before you," he said. "Yet act not 
 rashly. The power of Troy is very great ; and, in case 
 of war, all the tribes of Asia will make common cause 
 with Ilios. But an insult to Lacedsemon is an insult 
 to all Hellas, and every loyal Hellene will hasten to 
 avenge it. More than this, the chiefs of almost every 
 state have already sworn to aid you. We have but to 
 call upon them, and remind them of their oaths, and 
 all the mightiest warriors of our land will take up arms 
 against the power of Troy." 
 
 Then Palamedes spoke in like manner, and his 
 words had great weight with Menelaus ; for among all 
 the heroes there were few who equalled him in wisdom. 
 He it was who first built beacon fires on the headlands, 
 and lighthouses to warn venturous seamen of the hid- 
 den dangers in their way ; he it was who first invented 
 scales for weighing, and who taught men how to 
 measure grain and wine by certain standards ; he it was 
 who first made dice, and who showed what beauty and 
 mystery lie hidden in the letters which Cadmus brought 
 
A Cause of War. 219 
 
 from Phoenicia to Hellas. And he was wise in state- 
 craft and the knowledge of human nature. 
 
 " Nestor has spoken well," he said, addressing Mene- 
 laus, "and it behooves us to follow his advice. Now 
 do you and Agamemnon return at once to Argos and 
 Lacedaemon, and call upon the righting men along the 
 eastern coast to join you in the war. In the mean 
 while, Nestor and myself will do the same, here on the 
 western coast and among the islands of the sea." 
 
 " By the way," said Nestor, " there is Odysseus, king 
 of Ithaca, — the rarest and bravest of men. Did he 
 but know of this affair, he would be a host within him- 
 self, to lead us to sure victory." 
 
 "That is true," said Palamedes, "and we must seek 
 his aid first. My ship lies now at anchor, just off the 
 beach ; and if noble Nestor will be my comrade, we will 
 sail to-morrow to Ithaca, and make sure of his valued 
 aid." 
 
 " Most surely I will go with you," said old Nestor. 
 "And I will never rest nor give up the fig Ul, until 
 Helen is returned to Menelaus, and Paris has rw*-<Mved 
 his due reward." 
 
ADVENTURE XVIII. 
 
 AN UNWILLING HERO. 
 
 In the shade of the orchard trees, at the foot of 
 Mount Neritus, there was gathered, one afternoon, a 
 happy family party. The chief figure in the group was 
 white-haired Laertes, in his gardener's garb, picking 
 some ripe fruit from the overloaded branches. At his 
 right stood Anticleia, as queenly beautiful as when 
 her hero -husband had won her in the halls of old 
 Autolycus. At his left was Penelope, her sweet face 
 beaming with smiles ; while on the ground beside her 
 sat Odysseus, gently dandling in his arms the babe 
 Telemachus, and laughing at the budding wisdom of 
 the child. 
 
 " Some men wander the wide world over, seeking for 
 empty glory," said he, turning towards Penelope. " But 
 I would rather have my pleasant home, and live amid 
 its never-failing delights, than share the honors even of 
 great Heracles." 
 
 At this moment, Phemius the bard was seen coming 
 in haste from the palace. " What news, Phemius ? " 
 asked Odysseus. " Hast thou finished that new song 
 
An Unwilling Hero. 221 
 
 of thine ? And dost thou hasten thus to sing it to us 
 before some part of it shall go out of thy mind ? " 
 
 "Nay, master," answered the bard, speaking in 
 anxious tones. " I have come to tell you that there are 
 guests waiting in the hall. Famous men they are, — » 
 even Nestor, king of Pylos, and shrewd Palamedes of 
 Euboea. And they bring wonderful news, — news of 
 that which will, perchance, fill our land with sadness." 
 
 " Tell me what it is," said Odysseus. 
 
 Then the bard told the story of Paris and Helen, as 
 he had learned it briefly from Palamedes ; and he 
 explained the errand of the hero-guests which they had 
 thoughtlessly imparted to him. Odysseus looked at his 
 smiling babe, and at his fair wife, and his loved mother, 
 and his honored father ; and his brow darkened as he 
 shook his head, and said, " Why should I risk so much, 
 and, joining in this war, leave all that is dear to me on 
 earth, simply for the sake of Menelaus and his mis- 
 guided Helen ? " 
 
 Then, after a moment's thought, he added, "I will 
 not go. Tell Nestor and Palamedes that I am mad, and 
 cannot go." 
 
 All at once a great change seemed to come over him. 
 He put the babe into its nurse's arms ; and then with 
 long strides, and in the aimless manner of a maniac, he 
 made his way across the orchard, and along the foot- 
 path by the beach to the white palace near the shore. 
 When his old friends, Nestor and Palamedes, saw 
 him, they hastened towards him, expecting to receive 
 
222 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 his greeting ; but with unmeaning words, and a vacant 
 stare, he passed by them without a word of recognition. 
 
 " He is mad," said the frightened servants, as they 
 fled before him. 
 
 "Yes, he is mad, and knows not where he is nor 
 what he does," said Phemius, hastily rejoining the 
 guests. "When I went out to find him just now, he 
 was wandering among the fruit trees, picking the green 
 fruit, and roaring like a wild beast. The gods have 
 taken his reason from him." 
 
 " How sad that so great a mind should be thus 
 clouded ! " answered Nestor, with a sigh. " And at 
 this time it is doubly sad for us and for all who love 
 him, for we had counted on great things from shrewd 
 Odysseus. Surely some unfriendly god has done this 
 thing with intent to harm all Hellas." 
 
 " Do not judge hastily," whispered Palamedes. ''We 
 shall find out from whence this madness comes." 
 
 Soon Odysseus rushed from his chamber, looking 
 wildly about him, as if the very Furies were at his 
 heels. He was dressed in his richest garments, and on 
 his shoulder he carried a bag of salt. Without speak- 
 ing to any one, he made his way to the stables, where, 
 with his own hands, he harnessed a mule and a cow, 
 and yoked them side by side to a plough. Then he 
 drove his strange team down to the beach, and began to 
 plough long, deep furrows in the sand. By and by he 
 opened the bag of salt, and strewed the white grains 
 here and there, as though he were sowing seed. This 
 
An Unwilling Hero. 223 
 
 strange work he continued until the daylight faded into 
 darkness, and all the people were fain to seek rest under 
 their home-roofs. Then he drove his team back to the 
 stables, unyoked the beasts and fed them, and hurried 
 silently to his chamber. 
 
 The next morning, as soon as the dawn appeared, he 
 was seen ploughing the sandy beach as before. 
 
 "I will see whether there be any reason in his mad- 
 ness," said Palamedes to Nestor. 
 
 It chanced at that moment, that Eurycleia the nurse 
 was passing by with little Telemachus in her arms. 
 Without another word, Palamedes lifted the babe, and 
 laid it smiling in the last furrow that Odysseus had 
 made, so that on his next round the team would trample 
 upon it. As Odysseus drew near, urging forward the 
 mule and the cow, with many cries and maniacal ges- 
 tures, he saw the helpless babe. The sight of its 
 danger made him forget himself and his assumed mad- 
 ness ; he turned his team aside, and running forward 
 seized Telemachus, and, kissing his laughing lips, 
 handed him, with every show of gentleness, to the 
 good nurse. 
 
 " Ha, Odysseus ! " cried Palamedes. " Thou canst 
 not deceive us. Thou art no more mad than I am. 
 Cease now that boyish play, and come and talk with us 
 as becometh a hero." 
 
 Then Odysseus, seeing that he had been fairly out- 
 witted by one as shrewd as himself, knew that further 
 pretence of madness would avail him nothing. For a 
 
224 A Siory of the Golden Age. 
 
 single moment his brow was clouded with anger, and he 
 whispered hoarsely to Palamedes, " You shall have your 
 reward for this !" * Then, leaving his plough and his ill- 
 matched team upon the beach, he took his two guests 
 kindly by the hand, and led them into his palace. A 
 great feast was spread upon the tables, and the morning 
 was spent in eating and merry-making, and not a word 
 was said concerning the great business which had 
 brought the kings to Ithaca. 
 
 Later in the day, however, Nestor told Odysseus the 
 story of the perfidy of Paris. Then Palamedes followed 
 with a speech so clear, so forcible, that the hearts of all 
 who heard it were stirred to their very depths ; and 
 Odysseus, rising from his seat, renewed the vow which 
 he had made when Menelaus won fair Helen for his 
 bride. And from that time to the very end, there was 
 not a man among all the Hellenes, who threw himself 
 more earnestly into the work than did Odysseus. 
 
 For seven days Nestor and Palamedes tarried at 
 Ithaca, talking with Odysseus, and making plans for the 
 war against Troy. On the eighth day, the three heroes 
 embarked for the mainland ; and for months they jour- 
 neyed from country to country, and from city to city, 
 reminding the princes of their vows, and stirring all 
 Hellas into a flame. Soon the watch-fires were kindled 
 on every mountain-top ; and every warrior in the land 
 made haste to see that his arms were in order, and 
 every seaman to put his ship to rights. And Ares, the 
 
 1 See Note 13 at the end of this volume. 
 
An Unwilling Hero. 225 
 
 mighty god of battle, brandished his sword above the 
 sea ; dread comets blazed red in mid-heaven ; glittering 
 stars fell to the earth, or shot gleaming athwart the 
 sky. Sounds of warlike preparation were heard, not 
 only in the dwellings of men, but even in the halls of 
 Zeus, upon the airy summit of Olympus. 
 
ADVENTURE XIX. 
 
 HEROES IN STRANGE GARB. 
 
 There dwelt at Mycenae a wise soothsayer, named 
 Calchas, — a man versed in all the lore of earth and 
 sky, and holding some sort of communion with the 
 immortals. He could lift the veil of the future, and see 
 what to other men lay hidden in the darkness ; and 
 next to the Pythian oracle at Delphi, or the talking oak 
 of Dodona, he was held in high repute as knowing the 
 counsels of the gods. When all the great chiefs sat one 
 day in Agamemnon's hall, and talked of their warriors 
 and their ships and their arms, and boasted of their 
 readiness to sail at once for Ilios, the old soothsayer 
 came and stood before them. His white locks streamed 
 in flowing waves about his shoulders ; his gray eyes 
 gleamed with a strange, wild light ; he moved his long 
 arms to and fro above his head, and pointed with his 
 thin fingers first towards the sky, and then towards 
 the sea. 
 
 " Hearken ye to the seer," said Menelaus ; " he has 
 had a vision, and perchance he can tell us how we shall 
 fare in this great business which we have undertaken." 
 226 
 
Heroes in Strange Garb. 227 
 
 Then Calchas spoke and said, "Verily I know not 
 any thing of this matter, save by the gift of sooth- 
 saying which the far-darting Apollo has bestowed upon 
 me. Yet when I inquired of him, this answer did he 
 give : ' Let the long-haired Hellenes make war upon 
 Troy. They shall not prevail against that city unless 
 Achilles, the dear son of Thetis, lead them.' Send 
 now for him, and enlist him in your cause; for other- 
 wise you shall fail, and the Trojans shall boast of your 
 ruin ! " 
 
 Having said these words, the seer strode from the 
 hall, leaving the hero chiefs alone. For a time they sat 
 in silence, each pondering the matter in his own mind. 
 Then Agamemnon spoke, and his words were full of 
 anger and unbelief. "Never yet," said he, "did Cal- 
 chas prophesy any thing but ill. He sees naught but 
 evil ; and when we feel most sure of success, then it is 
 the joy of his heart to foretell failure. Now, after the 
 gods have thus far favored us, and when all things are 
 in readiness for the gathering together of our forces, 
 this woful soothsayer comes to tell us that without 
 Achilles we shall fail. For my part, I care little for his 
 words, and am willing to run all risks." 
 
 "Say not so," quickly answered Odysseus. "The 
 old man speaks as Apollo gives him utterance ; and no 
 man shall dare put his judgment in the scales against 
 the foreknowledge of the gods. Let us seek Achilles 
 at once, and persuade him to join us in our league 
 against Ilios." 
 
228 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 " But who shall find him ? " asked Menelaus. " Two 
 months ago, I was in Iolcos by the sea, whither I had 
 gone to see old Peleus. I found that that aged king 
 dwelt no longer in the ancient city, but had removed 
 into his own country of Phthia, and there abode among 
 his Myrmidons. Into Phthia, therefore, I went, hoping 
 to find Achilles also there. But old Peleus wept when 
 I asked about his son. ' In truth, I know not where the 
 young man is,' he said, in answer to my questions. ' For 
 when the news was noised about, that the chiefs of Hellas 
 were planning war upon Troy, then silver-footed Thetis 
 carried her son into some distant, unknown land, and 
 hid him there. For the Fates have declared the doom 
 of Achilles, that his days on earth shall be few but 
 glorious ; and his mother feared, that, should he join in 
 the great war, he would meet an untimely death. Thus, 
 then, it is that I am bereft already of my only son ; for 
 I know not whether I shall ever again behold him.' In 
 :his manner Peleus, the lord of horses, bewailed the 
 absence of his son. And though in every city I sought 
 news concerning the whereabouts of the young hero, 
 I could learn nothing whatever. Even Patroclus, his 
 bosom friend and comrade, wept for him as for one 
 dead. I do not believe that he can be found in 
 Hellas." 
 
 Then Nestor the wise arose and spoke. " It does 
 not become us," he said, "to doubt or dispute the words 
 of Calchas the seer. Therefore we must find Achilles, 
 and win him to our cause ; or, laying aside all thought 
 
Heroes in Strange Garb. 229 
 
 of war, we must humbly surrender to Paris the noblest 
 treasure of our country, even beauteous Helen." 
 
 " Achilles can be found," said Odysseus. " I myself 
 will seek him, and the moon shall not wane thrice ere I 
 shall have found him. Let the best ship in Argos be 
 put in readiness at once ; and let a crew of the most 
 skilful oarsmen be chosen, and a good store of food be 
 put into the hold. I will embark to-morrow, and you 
 shall see me no more until I bring good news of 
 Thetis's godlike son," 
 
 So then Odysseus set sail on a long, uncertain voyage 
 to the islands of the sea, in search of the hidden 
 hero. Vainly did he visit Cythera, the lofty isle where 
 Aphrodite first rose in all her beauty from the salt 
 sea-foam ; he touched at Melos, rich in corn and wine ; 
 he skirted Paros, known to all the world for its figs and 
 its spotless marble ; he stopped for a month at sacred 
 Delos, the birthplace of Apollo ; he explored well- 
 watered Ophiussa, where serpents curse the ground, 
 and grapes grow purple on the climbing vines ; he 
 sought long time in Andros among the groves and in 
 the temple sacred to ruddy-faced Dionysus : yet in none 
 of these lands heard he any news of the godlike son of 
 Peleus. Weary of their long and fruitless voyage, the 
 comrades of Odysseus murmured sorely, and besought 
 him to return to Mycenae, and give up the search. But 
 he turned a deaf ear to their pleadings, and sailed away 
 to Scyros, where old Lycomedes reigned. For the 
 bright-eyed goddess Athen6 had whispered to him in 
 
230 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 a dream, and told him that in the court of Lycomedes 
 he would find the hero for whom he sought. 
 
 In a narrow inlet, hidden by trees and tall reeds, the 
 ship was moored, while shrewd Odysseus went alone 
 and unheralded to the palace of the king. He had laid 
 aside his warrior's gear, and was now attired in the 
 guise of a wandering peddler, and loaded with a heavy 
 pack of precious wares. And lo ! as he neared the high- 
 built halls of Lycomedes, he came to a spacious garden 
 just outside of the courtyard, and hard by the lofty gate. 
 A green hedge ran round it on four sides, while within 
 grew many tall trees laden with fruits and blossoms, — 
 pear trees, pomegranates, apple trees, and olives. So 
 well cared for were these trees, that they yielded fruit 
 in every season of the year, nor ever failed, even in 
 winter time. Beyond these, all manner of garden beds 
 were planted, where flowers bloomed in never-ending 
 freshness, — the dewy lotus, the crocus flower, the pale 
 hyacinth, violets, asphodels, and fair lilies. And in 
 their midst, two springs of never-failing water gushed : 
 one of them watered the garden and the fields beyond ; 
 the other ran close by the threshold of the palace, and 
 bubbled up in the market-square, where all the people 
 came to fill their vessels. 1 
 
 As Odysseus stood and gazed in rapt delight upon 
 this scene of beauty, a party of happy maidens came 
 through the courtyard, and stopped in the garden to 
 pluck the fruits and flowers. Then on the open lawn, 
 
 * See Note 14 at the end of this volume. 
 
Heroes in Strange Garb. 231 
 
 they fell to playing ball ; and one among them sang a 
 lightsome song as they tossed the missile to and fro, or 
 danced with happy feet upon the smooth-mown sward. 
 When they saw Odysseus standing in the path, they 
 stopped their game, and stood silent in their places, 
 scarce knowing whether to advance and greet the 
 stranger kindly, or in girlish timidness to flee into the 
 palace. The hero opened then his peddler's pack, and 
 held up to their delighted gaze a golden necklace set 
 with amber beads. No further thought of flight had 
 the maidens now. With eager yet hesitating feet, they 
 came crowding around him, anxious to see what other 
 thing of beauty he had brought with him. One by 
 one, he showed them all his treasures, — ear-rings, 
 bracelets of finest workmanship, clasps, buckles, head- 
 bands, and golden hair-pins. These they took in their 
 hands, and, passing them from one to another, eagerly 
 debated the price. One only of the company, taller and 
 nobler than the others, stood aloof, and seemed to care 
 nothing for the rich and handsome ornaments. Odysseus 
 noticed this, but shrewdly kept his counsels to himself. 
 
 "A merchant like myself," said he, "must needs 
 have goods for all, — for the young as well as for the 
 old, for the grave as well as for the gay, for the hero as 
 well as for the lady. It is his duty no less than his 
 delight to please." 
 
 With these words he laid before the maidens a 
 sword with hilt most deftly carved, a dagger with long 
 keen blade, and a helmet thickly inlaid with precious 
 
232 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 gems. The one who had not cared to look at the 
 trinkets now started quickly as if a trumpet had blown ; 
 she took up the sword, and handled it like a warrior long 
 used to weapons ; she tested the edge of the dagger, 
 and sounded the strength of the helmet. Odysseus had 
 learned all that he wished to know. He thought no 
 more of the ornaments, — the bracelets, the clasps, and 
 the hair-pins, — but gave them to the maidens for any 
 price that they chose to offer. When all were pleased 
 and satisfied, he turned to that one still toying with the 
 sword, and said sharply, — 
 
 "Achilles!" 
 
 Had an earthquake shaken the isle of Scyros at that 
 moment, Achilles would not have been more startled. 
 For the tall, fair body, clad in a maiden's robes, was 
 none other than that long-sought hero. 
 
 " Achilles," again said Odysseus, " I know thee, and 
 it is useless to struggle longer against thy destiny. Put 
 off that unbecoming garb, and come with me. Thy 
 countrymen need thee to aid them in waging bitter war 
 against Troy." 
 
 Then he told to the listening hero the story of the 
 great wrong which Paris had done, — the unbearable 
 insult which he had put upon the folk of Hellas. No 
 man ever used words more persuasive. When he had 
 ended, Achilles took him by the hand, and said, 
 " Odysseus, truly do I know the destiny which is mine, 
 and it behooves no man to struggle long against the 
 doom which has been allotted to him. For the gods 
 
Heroes in Strange Garb. 233 
 
 ordain that man should live in pain, while they them- 
 selves are sorrowless. You have heard it said, how on 
 the threshold of Zeus there stand two caskets full of 
 gifts to men. One casket holds the evil, and one the 
 good ; and to whomsoever is dealt a mingled lot, upon 
 him misfortunes sometimes fall, and sometimes bless- 
 ings. So it is with me and with my father's house. 
 For upon Peleus were bestowed rich gifts, even from 
 his birth, and he excelled all other men in good fortune 
 and in wealth ; and he was king over the Myrmidons ; 
 and to him was given a sea-nymph for a wife, even 
 Thetis, my goddess-mother. Yet, with all the good, 
 sorrow has come upon him in his old age ; for in his 
 halls there are no kingly sons to gladden his heart and 
 hold up his hands. 1 I am his only son, and of me it has 
 been written that I am doomed to an untimely death ; 
 and it was for this that silver-footed Thetis brought me 
 hither across the sea, and, clothing me in maidenly 
 attire, left me to serve in Lycomedes' pleasant halls. 
 But I tire of life like this. I would rather die to- 
 morrow, a hero in some grand struggle, than live a 
 hundred years among these soft delights. I will sail 
 with you at once for Phthia, where my father sits, 
 already bereaved, in his spacious halls. There I will 
 summon my Myrmidons, and my best-loved friend 
 Patroclus ; and then with eager hearts we will hasten to 
 join our countrymen in war against the Trojan power." 
 
 1 See Note 15 at the end of this volume. 
 
234 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 -■■■ — ■— I,-. — ■ m 
 
 Thus, then, did Odysseus perform his quest, and thus 
 the last and greatest ally was won to the Hellenic 
 cause. And yet the war was long delayed. Many 
 times did the moon wax and wane ; and seed-time and 
 harvest, and fruit-gathering, and the storms of winter, 
 came again and again in their turn, — and still the 
 heroes were unready to join their forces and enter upon 
 the mighty struggle. 
 
 At length, however, after nearly ten years had passed, 
 all the princes and warriors of Hellas gathered their 
 ships and men together at Aulis, and along the shores 
 of the Euripus. A thousand dark-hulled vessels were 
 moored in the strait ; and a hundred thousand brave 
 men were on board, ready to follow their leaders 
 whithersoever they should order. 
 
 Chief of all that host was mighty Agamemnon, king 
 of men, bearing the sceptre of Mycenae, which He- 
 phaestus, long before, had wrought most wondrously. 
 He was clad in flashing armor, and his mind was filled 
 with overweening pride when he thought how high he 
 stood among the warriors, and that his men were the 
 goodliest and bravest of all that host. 
 
 Next to him was Menelaus, silent and discreet, by no 
 means skilled above his fellows, and yet, by reason of 
 his noble heart, beloved and honored by all the Greeks ; 
 and it was to avenge his wrongs that this mighty array 
 of men and ships had been gathered together. 
 
 Odysseus came next, shrewd in counsels, and no 
 longer an unwilling hero ; but, earnest and active, he 
 
Heroes in Strange Garb. 235 
 
 moved among the men and ships, inspiring all with zeal 
 and courage. He wore upon his shoulders a thick 
 purple mantle, clasped with a golden brooch of curious 
 workmanship, which Penelope had given to him as a 
 parting gift. Around his waist was a shining tunic, 
 soft and smooth, and bright as the sunshine. With 
 him, wherever he went, was his herald and armor- 
 bearer, Eurybates, — a hunchbacked, brown-skinned, 
 curly-haired man, whom Odysseus held in high esteem 
 because of his rare good sense. 
 
 There, also, was young Achilles, tall and handsome, 
 and swift of foot. His long hair fell about his shoulders 
 like a shower of gold, and his gray eyes gleamed like 
 those of the mountain eagle. By the shore lay his trim 
 ships — fifty in all — with thousands of gallant Myrmi- 
 dons on board. And ever at his side was his bosom 
 friend and comrade, Patroclus, the son of Menoitios. 
 He it was to whom old Peleus had said when they were 
 about embarking for Aulis, " Thou art older than my 
 child Achilles, but he is nobler born and mightier far 
 in warlike deeds. But thou art wise and prudent ; 
 therefore, do thou speak gentle words of warning to 
 him, and show him what is best to do : he will hearken 
 to thy words spoken for his good." 
 
 There also was Ajax, the valiant son of Telamon, 
 huge in body and slow in speech, but, next to Achilles, 
 the bravest of all the host. And the other Ajax, clad 
 in his linen corslet, and master of forty ships from 
 Locris, moved also among the mightiest of the heroes. 
 
236 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 There, too, was Nestor, the aged king of Pylos, rich 
 in wisdom and experience, and skilled in persuasive 
 speech. With him was his son Antilochus, the quon- 
 dam suitor of fair Helen, a warrior worthy of such a 
 sire. 
 
 And there was Idomeneus, the stalwart chief who 
 ruled the hundred cities of Crete, and was the sworn 
 friend of Menelaus. And there was Philoctetes, the 
 cunning archer, carrying the great bow which had been 
 given him for his last sad act of friendship to his 
 master, Heracles. And there was Diomede, of the 
 loud war-cry, wearing the skin of a great fiery lion 
 round his shoulders, and marshalling the warriors who 
 had come with him from Argos, and Tiryns of the 
 mighty walls. And there, too, among so many others 
 of far greater worth, was Nireus of Syma, his well-oiled 
 locks as neatly curled, and his linen as spotlessly white, 
 as when in youth he had sued for Helen's hand in the 
 court of old Tyndareus. 
 
 Now when the day had come for the fleet to sail, the 
 chiefs stood upon the shore, and offered solemn sacri- 
 fices to Poseidon, and prayed the gods to prosper them 
 in their undertaking and bring them safe again to their 
 loved homes in Hellas. While they were burning the 
 choicest bits of fat and flesh, behold, a strange thing 
 happened ! From a crevice in the rocks a shining ser- 
 pent, with glittering cold eyes and forked tongue, came 
 creeping silently into the sunlight. The heroes gazed 
 upon it with wonder in their faces, for they knew that 
 
Heroes in Strange Garb. 237 
 
 it was sent as a sign to them. Not far away stood a 
 plane-tree, green with foliage, in which a bird had built 
 her nest ; and in the nest were nine tiny fledglings, 
 tenderly cared for by the mother bird. Straight to this 
 tree the serpent crept ; it twined around the trunk, and 
 stealthily climbed to the nest ; it seized the helpless 
 little ones in its fangs and devoured them ; then it 
 darted upon the distressed mother bird, and destroyed 
 her most pitilessly. But now a gleam of lightning 
 flashed across the sky, and a peal of thunder shook the 
 earth and sea. When the astonished chiefs looked up 
 again, behold, the serpent had been turned into stone. 
 
 " Call Calchas the seer, and let him tell us what this 
 portends ! " they cried. 
 
 Then Calchas, his long hair streaming in the wind, 
 his wild eyes rolling in awe, his gaunt arms waving to 
 and fro above his head, came and looked upon the 
 wonder. 
 
 " Ye men of Hellas ! " he cried, " I will tell you what 
 this portends. As there were nine birds in the nest, ye 
 shall war nine years against Troy, and shall not prevail ; 
 but, even as the serpent destroyed the mother bird, so 
 in the tenth year shall the city and its god-built walls 
 fall into your hands." 
 
ADVENTURE XX. 
 
 BECALMED AT AULIS. 
 
 A pleasant wind from the west sprang up, and 
 drove the great fleet out into the sea. Not a single 
 one of the thousand ships was lost or left behind ; 
 and after a quick and happy voyage, they came in 
 sight of a fruitful land and a great city with high 
 towers and pleasant dwellings. 
 
 "The gods have favored us, even beyond what we 
 asked ! " cried the Hellenes. 
 
 Achilles and his Myrmidons landed first, and with- 
 out waiting for the other ships to come up, they rushed 
 across the plain, and began an assault upon the town. 
 Like a swarm of locusts lighting down upon a field 
 of grain, and consuming every thing before them, so 
 came the destroying Hellenes. The gates were broken 
 down ; the astonished people fled in dismay, and sought 
 safety among the hills and in the forest on the other 
 side of the town. Not until many houses had been 
 burned, and many people slain, did Odysseus and 
 Menelaus, whose ships had been delayed, reach the 
 place. 
 
 *3» 
 
Becalmed at Aulis. 239 
 
 " Men of Hellas ! " they cried, hastening into the 
 midst of the carnage. " What is this you are doing ? 
 This is not Troy. It is the peaceful city of Teuthrania 
 in Mysia. Cease your slaughter, and return at once 
 to your vessels, lest the wrath of the gods fall upon 
 you." 
 
 The word was carried from mouth to mouth ; and 
 the hasty heroes, crestfallen and ashamed, stopped 
 their bloody work, and turned their faces back towards 
 the shore where their ships lay beached. None too 
 soon did they retreat ; for the king of Mysia, one 
 Telephus a son of Heracles, having quickly called his 
 warriors together, fell upon their rear, and slew great 
 numbers of them, following them even to the sloping 
 beach. As the last ship was pushing out, an arrow 
 from the bow of King Telephus struck Patroclus, 
 wounding him sorely. Then Achilles, poising his long 
 spear, threw it with deadly aim among the Mysians ; 
 it struck King Telephus, and laid him senseless though 
 not slain upon the sandy plain. 
 
 No sooner had the fleet set sail again upon the sea, 
 than Poseidon stirred up the waves in anger, and 
 loosed the winds upon them. Great was the terror, 
 and great indeed was the destruction. Some of the 
 ships were sunk in mid-sea, and some were driven 
 upon the rocks and wrecked. But the greater number 
 of them, after days and weeks of buffeting with the 
 waves, made their way back to Aulis. 
 
 When the heroes stood again on the shores of the 
 
240 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 Euripus, they began to think that doubtless there was 
 some truth in the omen of the snake and the birds ; 
 and the most hopeful among them ceased to dream 
 of taking Troy in a day. While waiting for stragglers 
 to come in, and for the shattered vessels to be repaired, 
 they found enough to do to keep the time from drag- 
 ging heavily ; and when not engage in some kind of 
 labor they amused themselves with various games, 
 and great sport had they with quoits and javelins, 
 with bows and arrows, and in wrestling and running. 
 And now and then they went out into the woods of 
 Euboea, and hunted the wild deer which roamed there 
 in abundance. 
 
 One day it chanced that Agamemnon, while hunting, 
 started a fine stag, and gave it a long chase among the 
 hills and through the wooded dells, until it sought 
 safety in a grove sacred to Artemis the huntress queen. 
 The proud king knew that this was a holy place where 
 beasts and birds might rest secure from harm ; yet 
 he cared naught for what Artemis had ordained, and 
 with his swift arrows he slew the panting deer. Then 
 was the huntress queen moved with anger, and she 
 declared that the ships of the Hellenes should not sail 
 from Aulis until the king had atoned for his crime. 
 And a great calm rested upon the sea, and not a 
 breath of air stirred the sails at the mast-heads of the 
 ships. Day after day and week after week went by, 
 and not a speck of cloud was seen in the sky above, 
 and not a ripple on the glassy face of the deep. All 
 
Becalmed at Aulis. 241 
 
 the ships had been put in order, new vessels had been 
 built, the warriors had burnished their armor and over- 
 hauled their arms a thousand times ; and yet no breeze 
 arose to waft them across the sea. And they began 
 to murmur, and to talk bitterly against Agamemnon 
 and the chiefs. 
 
 In the mean while, a small vessel driven by rowers 
 came up the Euripus, and stopped among the ships at 
 Aulis. On board of it was King Telephus of Mysia, 
 sorely suffering from the wound which Achilles had 
 given him on the Teuthranian beach. He had come to 
 seek the hero who had wounded him, for an oracle had 
 told him that he only could heal the grievous hurt. 
 Achilles carried the sufferer to his tent, and skilfully 
 dressed the wound, and bound it up with healing herbs ; 
 for in his boyhood he had learned from wise old Cheiron 
 how to treat such ailments, and now that knowledge 
 was of great use to him. And soon the king was 
 whole and strong again ; and he vowed that he would 
 not leave Achilles, but would stay with the Hellenes, 
 and pilot them across the sea to Troy. Yet the wrath 
 of Artemis continued, and not the slightest breeze 
 arose to cool the air, or fill the waiting sails of the 
 ships. 
 
 At last Agamemnon sent for Calchas the soothsayer, 
 and asked him in secret how the anger of the huntress 
 queen might be assuaged. And the soothsayer with 
 tears and lamentations answered that in no wise could 
 it be done save by the sacrifice to Artemis of his 
 
242 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 maiden daughter Iphigenia. Then the king cried 
 aloud in his grief, and declared that though Troy might 
 stand forever, he would not do that thing ; and he bade 
 a herald go through the camp, and among the ships, 
 and bid every man depart as he chose to his own coun- 
 try. But before the herald had gone from his tent, 
 behold his brother Menelaus, the wronged husband of 
 fair Helen, stood before him with downcast eyes and 
 saddest of hearts. 
 
 "After ten years of labor and hope," said he to 
 Agamemnon, "wouldst thou give up this enterprise, 
 and lose all ? " 
 
 Then Odysseus came also into the tent, and added 
 his persuasions to those of Menelaus. And the king 
 hearkened to him, for no man was more crafty in coun- 
 sel ; and the three recalled the herald, and formed a 
 plan whereby they might please Artemis by doing as 
 she desired. And Agamemnon, in his weakness, wrote 
 a letter to Clytemnestra his queen, telling her to bring 
 the maiden Iphigenia to Aulis, there to be wedded to 
 King Achilles. " Fail not in this," added he, "for the 
 godlike hero will not sail with us unless my daughter be 
 given to him in marriage." And when he had written 
 the letter, he sealed it, and sent it by a swift mes- 
 senger to Clytemnestra at Mycenae. 
 
 Nevertheless the king's heart was full of sorrow, and 
 when he was alone he planned how he might yet save 
 his daughter. Night came, but he could not sleep ; he 
 walked the floor of his tent ; he wept and lamented like 
 
Becalmed at Aulis. 243 
 
 one bereft of reason. At length he sat down, and 
 wrote another letter: " Daughter of Leda, send not thy 
 child to Aulis, for I will give her in marriage at another 
 time," Then he called another messenger, an old and 
 trusted servant of the household, and put this letter 
 into his hands. 
 
 "Take this with all haste to my queen, who, per- 
 chance, is even now on her way to Aulis. Stop not by 
 any cool spring in the groves, and let not thine eyes 
 close for sleep. And see that the chariot bearing the 
 queen and Iphigenia pass thee not unnoticed." 
 
 The messenger took the letter, and hasted away. 
 But hardly had he passed the line of the tents when 
 Menelaus saw him, and took the letter from him. And 
 when he had read it, he went before his brother, and 
 reproached him with bitter words. 
 
 u Before you were chosen captain of the host," said 
 he, "you were kind and gentle, and the friend of every 
 man. There was nothing that you would not do to aid 
 your fellows. Now you are puffed up with pride and 
 vain conceit, and care nothing even for those who are 
 your equals in power. Yet, for all, you are not rid of 
 your well-known cowardice ; and when you saw that your 
 leadership was likely to be taken away from you unless 
 you obeyed the commands of Artemis, you agreed to 
 do this thing. Now you are trying to break your word, 
 sending secretly to your wife, and bidding her not to 
 bring her daughter to Aulis." 
 
 Then Agamemnon answered, "Why should I de- 
 
244 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 stroy my daughter in order to win back thy wife ? Let 
 the suitors who swore an oath to King Tyndareus go 
 with thee. In what way am I bound to serve thee ? " 
 
 " Do as you will," said Menelaus, going away in 
 wrath. 
 
 Soon after this, there came a herald to the king, 
 saying, " Behold, your daughter Iphigenia has come as 
 you directed, and with her mother and her little brother 
 Orestes she rests by the spring close to the outer line 
 of tents. And the warriors have gathered around them, 
 and are praising her loveliness, and asking many ques- 
 tions ; and some say, ' The king is sick to see his 
 daughter whom he loves so deeply, and he has made up 
 some excuse to bring her to the camp.' But I know 
 why you have brought her here ; for I have been told 
 about the wedding, and the noble groom who is to 
 lead her in marriage; and we will rejoice and be glad, 
 because this is a happy day for the maiden." 
 
 Then the king was sorely distressed, and knew not 
 what to do. "Sad, sad indeed," said he, "is the 
 wedding to which the maiden cometh. For the name 
 of the bridegroom is Death." 
 
 At the same time Menelaus came back, sorrowful 
 and repentant. "You were right, my brother," said 
 he. "What, indeed, has Iphigenia to do with Helen, 
 and why should the maiden die for me ? Send the 
 Hellenes to their homes, and let not this great wrong 
 be done." 
 
 " But how can I do that now ? " asked Agamemnon. 
 
Becalmed at Aulis. 245 
 
 " The warriors, urged on by Odysseus and Calchas, 
 will force me to do the deed. Or, if I flee to Mycenae, 
 they will follow me, and slay me, and destroy my city. 
 Oh, woe am I, that such a day should ever dawn upon 
 my sight ! " 
 
 Even while they spoke together, the queen's chariot 
 drove up to the tent door, and the queen and Iphigenia 
 and the little Orestes alighted quickly, and merrily 
 greeted the king. 
 
 "It is well that you have sent for me, my father," 
 said Iphigenia, caressing him. 
 
 " It may be well, and yet it may not," said Agamem- 
 non. " I am exceeding glad to see thee alive and 
 happy." 
 
 " If you are glad, why then do you weep ? " 
 
 " I am sad because thou wilt be so long time away 
 from me." 
 
 " Are you going on a very long voyage, father ? " 
 
 " A long voyage and a sad one, my child. And thou, 
 also, hast a journey to make." 
 
 " Must I make it alone, or will my mother go with 
 me?" 
 
 "Thou must make it alone. Neither father nor 
 mother nor any friend can go with thee, my child." 
 
 " But when shall it be ? I pray that you will hasten 
 this matter with Troy, and return home ere then." 
 
 " It may be so. But I must offer a sacrifice to the 
 gods, before we sail from Aulis." 
 
 " That is well. And may I be present I " 
 
246 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 "Yes, and thou shalt be very close to the altar." 
 
 " Shall I lead in the dances, father ? " 
 
 Then the king could say no more, for reason of the 
 great sorrow within him ; and he kissed the maiden, 
 and sent her into the tent. A little while afterward, 
 the queen came and spoke to him, and asked him about 
 the man to whom their daughter was to be wedded ; 
 and Agamemnon, still dissembling, told her that the 
 hero's name was Achilles, and that he was the son of 
 old Peleus and the sea-nymph Thetis. 
 
 " And when and where is the marriage to be ? " 
 asked the queen. 
 
 " On the first lucky day in the present moon, and 
 here in our camp at Aulis," answered Agamemnon. 
 
 " Shall I stay here with thee until then ? " 
 
 "Nay, thou must go back to Mycenae without delay." 
 
 " But may I not come again ? If I am not here, who 
 will hold up the torch for the bride ? " 
 
 " I will attend to all such matters," answered Aga- 
 memnon. 
 
 But Clytemnestra was not well pleased, neither 
 could the king persuade her at all that she should 
 return to Mycenae. While yet they were talking, 
 Achilles himself came to the tent door, and said aloud 
 to the servant who kept it, "Tell thy master that 
 Achilles, the son of Peleus, would be pleased to see 
 him." 
 
 When Clytemnestra overheard these words, she 
 hastened to the door, and offered the hero her hand. 
 
Becalmed at Aulis. 247 
 
 But he was ashamed and drew back, for it was deemed 
 an unseemly thing for men to speak thus with women. 
 Then Clytemnestra said, "Why, indeed, should you, 
 who are about to marry my daughter, be ashamed to 
 give me your hand ? " 
 
 Achilles was struck with wonder, and asked her 
 what she meant ; and when she had explained the 
 matter, he said, — 
 
 " Truly I have never been a suitor for thy daughter, 
 neither has Agamemnon or Menelaus spoken a word 
 to me regarding her." 
 
 And now the queen was astonished in her turn, and 
 cried out with shame that she had been so cruelly 
 deceived. Then the keeper of the door, who was the 
 same that had been sent with the letter, came forward 
 and told the truth regarding the whole matter. And 
 Clytemnestra cried to Achilles, "O son of the silver- 
 footed Thetis ! Help me and help my daughter Iphi- 
 genia, in this time of sorest need ! For we have no 
 friend in all this host, and none in whom we can con- 
 fide but thee." 
 
 Achilles answered, " Long time ago I was a pupil 
 of old Cheiron the most righteous of men, and from 
 him I learned to be honest and true. If Agamemnon 
 rule according to right, then I will obey him ; but not 
 otherwise. And now since thy daughter was brought 
 to this place under pretence of giving her to me as 
 my bride, I will see that she shall not be slain, neither 
 shall any one dare take her from me." 
 
248 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 On the following day, while Agamemnon sat grief- 
 stricken in his tent, the maiden came before him 
 carrying the babe Orestes in her arms ; and she cast 
 herself upon her knees at his feet, and caressing his 
 hands, she thus besought him : " Would, dear father, 
 that I had the voice of Orpheus, to whom even 
 the rocks did listen ! then I would persuade thee. 
 O father ! I am thy child. I was the first to call 
 thee ' Father,' and the first to whom thou saidst ' My 
 child.' " 
 
 The father turned his face away, and wept ; he could 
 not speak for sadness. Then the maiden went on : 
 " O, father, hear me ! thou to whom my voice was 
 once so sweet that thou wouldst waken me to hear 
 my prattle amid the songs of birds when it was mean- 
 ingless as theirs. And wb°n I was older grown, then 
 thou wouldst say to me, ' Some day, my birdling, thou 
 shalt have a nest of thy own, a home of which 
 thou shalt be the mistress.' And I did answer, 'Yes, 
 dear father, and when thou art old I will care for 
 thee, and pay thee with all my heart for the kindness, 
 thou dost show me.' But now thou hast forgotten it 
 all, and art ready to slay my young life." 
 
 A deep groan burst from the lips of the mighty 
 king, but he spoke not a word. Then after a death- 
 like silence broken only by the deep breathings of 
 father and child, Iphigenia spoke again : " My father, 
 can there be any prayer more pure and more persua- 
 sive than that of a maiden for her father's welfare? 
 
Becalmed at Aulis. 249 
 
 and when the cruel knife shall strike me down, thou 
 wilt have one daughter less to pray for thee." A 
 shudder shook the frame of Agamemnon, but he an- 
 swered not a word. 
 
 At that moment Achilles entered. He had come 
 in haste from the tents beside the shore, and he 
 spoke in hurried, anxious accents. 
 
 "Behold," said he, "a great tumult has arisen in 
 the camp ; for Calchas has given out among the men 
 that you refuse to do what Artemis has bidden, and 
 that hence these delays and troubles have arisen. 
 And the rude soldiers are crying out against you, and 
 declaring that the maiden must die. When I would 
 have stayed their anger, they took up stones to stone 
 me, — my own Myrmidons among the rest. And now 
 they are making ready to move upon your tent, threat- 
 ening to sacrifice you also with your daughter. But 
 I will fight for you to the utmost, and the maiden 
 shall not die." 
 
 As he was speaking, Calchas entered, and, grasping 
 the wrist of the pleading maiden, lifted her to her 
 feet. She looked up, and saw his stony face and 
 hard cold eyes ; and turning again to Agamemnon, she 
 said, " O father, the ships shall sail, for I will die for 
 thee." 
 
 Then Achilles said to her, " Fair maiden, thou art 
 by far the noblest and most lovely of thy sex. Fain 
 would I save thee from this fate, even though every 
 man in Hellas be against me. Fly with me quickly to 
 
250 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 my long-oared galley, and I will carry thee safely away 
 from this accursed place." 
 
 " Not so," answered Iphigenia : " I will give up my 
 life for my father and this land of the Hellenes, and 
 no man shall suffer for me." 
 
 And the pitiless priest led her through the throng 
 of rude soldiers, to the grove of Artemis, wherein an 
 altar had been built. But Achilles and Agamemnon 
 covered their faces with their mantles, and staid in- 
 side the tent. Then Talthybius the herald stood up, 
 and bade the warriors keep silence ; and Calchas put a 
 garland of sweet-smelling flowers about the victim's 
 head. 
 
 " Let no man touch me," said the maiden, " for I 
 offer my neck to the sword with right good will, that 
 so my father may live and prosper." 
 
 In silence and great awe, the warriors stood around, 
 while Calchas drew a sharp knife from its scabbard. 
 But, lo ! as he struck, the maiden was not there ; and 
 in her stead, a noble deer lay dying on the altar. Then 
 the old soothsayer cried out in triumphant tones, "See 
 now, ye men of Hellas, how the gods have provided for 
 you a sacrifice, and saved the innocent daughter of the 
 king ! " And all the people shouted with joy ; and in 
 that self-same hour, a strong breeze came down the 
 Euripus, and filled the idle sails of the waiting ships. 
 
 " To Troy ! to Troy ! " cried the Hellenes ; and every 
 man hastened aboard his vessel. 
 
 How it was that fair Iphigenia escaped the knife ; 
 
Becalmed at Aulis. 251 
 
 by whom she was saved, or whither she went, — no one 
 knew. Some say that Artemis carried her away to the 
 land of the Taurians, where she had a temple and an 
 altar ; and that, long years afterward, her brother 
 Orestes found her there, and bore her back to her girl- 
 hood's home, even to Mycenae. But whether this be 
 true or not, I know that there have been maidens as 
 noble, as loving, as innocent as she, who have given up 
 their lives in order to make this world a purer and 
 happier place in which to live ; and these are not dead, 
 but live in the grateful memories of those whom they 
 loved and saved. 
 
ADVENTURE XXI. 
 
 THE LONG SIEGE. 
 
 The great fleet sailed once more across the sea, 
 piloted now by Telephus, the king of Mysia ; and the 
 ships of Achilles and those of Philoctetes of Melibcea 
 led all the rest. When they had put a little more than 
 half the distance behind them, they came to the isle 
 of Chryse, where were a fair temple and altars built in 
 honor of Athene. Here many of the heroes landed ; 
 and while some were busied in refilling the water- 
 casks from the springs of fresh water near the shore, 
 others went up to the temple and offered gifts and heart- 
 felt thanks to Pallas Athene\ But as Philoctetes, the 
 cunning archer, stood near one of the altars, a water- 
 snake came out of the rocks and bit him on the foot. 
 Terrible, indeed, was the wound, and great were the 
 hero's sufferings ; day and night he groaned and cried 
 aloud by reason of the bitter pain ; and there was no 
 physician that could heal him of the grievous hurt. 
 In a few days, a noisome stench began to issue from 
 the wound, and the hero's complainings waxed so loud 
 
 and piteous that the warriors stopped their ears, so 
 252 
 
The Long Siege. 253 
 
 that they might not hear them. Then the chiefs took 
 counsel as to what it were best to do with him ; and, 
 although some advised that he be cast into the sea, 
 it was thought best to follow a milder course, and leave 
 him alone on the isle of Lemnos. Hence, while the 
 hero slept, Odysseus and his men carried him on shore ; 
 and they laid his great bow, even the bow of Heracles, 
 by his side upon the sand, and put a cask of water and 
 a basket of food within easy reach of his hand. Then 
 they sailed away, and left him alone in his great dis- 
 tress and sorrow. 
 
 At length the shores of Ilios were reached, and the 
 high towers of Troy were seen. Then the sails of the 
 vessels were furled and laid away in the roomy holds, 
 the masts were lowered with speed, and the oarsmen 
 seated themselves upon the benches and rowed the 
 ships forward until they stood in one line, stretching 
 more than a league along the shore. But as they drew 
 nearer the sea-beach, the heroes saw all the plain 
 before them covered with armed men and horses and 
 chariots drawn up to hinder their landing. And they 
 paused, uncertain what to do ; for Calchas the sooth- 
 sayer had declared that he who should first step foot 
 upon the shores of Ilios should meet a sudden death. 
 
 " Who among all the heroes will dare be the first 
 to die for Hellas?" was the anxious question heard 
 on every vessel. Not a man was there who was not 
 willing and ready to be the second one to step on 
 shore ; but who would be the first ? The Trojan host 
 
254 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 now began to shoot their arrows toward the ships, 
 and to taunt the Hellenes with cowardice. Yet even 
 Achilles and Ajax Telamon, the mightiest of the 
 heroes, fell back and would not take the fearful risk 
 of beginning the fight. Then Protesilaus, who had led 
 forty black ships from Phylace and the shore of An- 
 trona, seeing that some one must die for the cause, 
 leaped boldly out of the ship upon the shelving beach. 
 At once a hundred arrows whistled through the air, and 
 glanced from his sevenfold shield of ox-hide ; and a 
 heavy spear, thrown by Hector, the mightiest of the 
 Trojans, pierced his fair armor, and laid him bleeding 
 and dead upon the sand. Quickly the warriors leaped 
 ashore ; face to face and hand to hand they fought with 
 the Trojan host; and, led by Achilles and by Diomede 
 of the loud war-cry, they drove their foes across the 
 plain and even through the city gates. 
 
 But Protesilaus lay dead upon the beach ; and few of 
 the heroes remembered that to him they owed their 
 victory. And when his newly-wedded wife, fair Laoda- 
 mia, heard in far Phylace that he had fallen first in the 
 fight, she dight herself in mourning and went to pray 
 at the shrine of mighty Zeus. And the prayer which 
 she offered was that she might see her husband once 
 again, and holding his hand, might talk with him if it 
 were only for the space of three hours. Then Hermes 
 led the war-loving hero back to the upper world ; and 
 he sat in his bridal chamber, and spoke sweet words of 
 comfort to Laodamia. But when the short hours were 
 
The Long Siege. 255 
 
 past, and the messenger came to lead Protesilaus back 
 to the land of shades, his wife prayed that she might 
 return with him. And men say that this prayer, also, 
 was heard, and that arm in arm the two went forth 
 together to their shadowy home in Hades. 
 
 Time would fail me to tell you how the Greeks en- 
 camped upon the plain of Troy, and how for more than 
 nine long years they laid siege to that great city. 
 Neither can I speak of the ruinous wrath of Achilles 
 which brought so much woe upon the Hellenes ; for of 
 that you will read in the oldest and grandest poem that 
 the world has ever known, — the Iliad of Homer. And 
 there, also, you will read of the death of Patroclus ; 
 and of the vengeance which Achilles wrought, even 
 by the slaying of godlike Hector; and of the mighty 
 deeds of Diomede and of Ajax and of Agamemnon on 
 the plains of Troy ; and of the shrewd counsels and 
 crafty schemes of Odysseus, who, though in strength 
 surpassing other men, learned to trust rather to his 
 skill in words than to his mastery of arms. 
 
 The time at length drew near when that which had 
 been spoken concerning the doom of Achilles was to 
 be fulfilled. For, when he saw that he, more than all 
 the Hellenes, was held in dread by the Trojans, his 
 heart was puffed up with unseemly pride, and he boasted 
 of his deeds, and spoke of himself as greater even than 
 Phoebus Apollo. Then the archer-god was greatly an- 
 gered, and no longer covered him with his great shield 
 of protection, but left him to his doom. Hence, on a 
 
256 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 iay, when he stood before the Scaean gate, and taunted 
 the Trojans on the walls, a mighty spear smote him, and 
 pierced his heart. Some say that the weapon was 
 thrown by Paris, the perfidious one who had caused 
 this bloody war ; and others say that far-darting Apollc 
 in his wrath launched the fatal bolt. The body of 
 Achilles incased in his glorious armor lay all day long 
 in the dust, while Hellenes and Trojans fought around 
 it, and neither could gain the mastery, or carry away the 
 ghastly prize. At length a great storm burst upon the 
 combatants : the thunder rolled, the lightning flashed, 
 the rain and hail fell in blinding torrents ; and the 
 Trojans withdrew behind their walls. Then the Hel- 
 lenes lifted the body of Achilles, and carried it to their 
 ships ; and, stripping it of his matchless armor, they 
 laid it on a couch, and standing around it, they be- 
 wailed his untimely death. And his mother, silver- 
 footed Thetis, came across the waves with all the 
 sea-nymphs in her train ; and, while she wept over the 
 body of her child, the nymphs arrayed it in shining 
 robes which they themselves had woven in their coral 
 caves. Then, after many days and nights of bitter lam- 
 entation, the Hellenes built a great funeral pile upon 
 the beach ; and they laid the hero thereon, and set fire 
 to it, and the flames leaped high over the sea, and 
 Achilles was no more. Then Thetis took the hero's 
 glorious armor, and set it up as a prize to that one who 
 should excel in feats of strength and skill in a grand 
 trial to be made beside the ships. Only two of all the 
 
The Long Siege. 257 
 
 host stood up for the trial, — Ajax Telamon and Odys- 
 seus ; for no other man dared contend with either of 
 these. Mighty indeed was the contest ; but in the 
 end Odysseus prevailed, and the matchless armor was 
 awarded him. Then, when Ajax knew that he had 
 been beaten in the suit, — and beaten not more by 
 honest strength and skill than by crafty guile, — he fell 
 prone upon the earth, and his great mind lost its 
 balance. And when he arose to his feet, he knew no 
 longer his friends and comrades, nor did he remember 
 any thing. But like a roaring wild beast, he rushed 
 from the tents into the fields and pasture lands ; and, 
 seeing a flock of sheep browsing among the herbage, 
 he fell upon them with his sword, and slaughtered great 
 numbers of them, fancying that they were foemen seek- 
 ing his life. Nor did any man dare say any thing to 
 him, or try in any way to check him, or turn him aside 
 from his mad freaks. When he grew tired, at length, 
 of slaughtering the helpless beasts, he went down into 
 a green dell, and fell upon his own sword. A great 
 stream of blood gushed from the wound, and dyed the 
 earth, and from it sprang a purple flower bearing upon 
 its edges both the initials of his name and a sign of 
 woe, the letters aX. 
 
 Then Odysseus bewailed his comrade's unhappy 
 death. "Would that I had never prevailed, and won 
 that prize ! " he cried. " So goodly a head hath the 
 earth closed over for the sake of these arms, even 
 that of Ajax, who in beauty and in feats of war was of 
 
258 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 a mould far above all other men, save only peerless 
 Achilles. What a tower of strength wert thou ! Long 
 indeed shall it be ere Hellas shall see another like 
 thee ! " « 
 
 After this the Hellenes began to despair ; for many 
 of their noblest heroes had perished. Who now should 
 lead them on to victory ? Surely not Patroclus, nor 
 Achilles, nor Ajax. Bitter murmurings were heard 
 among the ships, and the men declared that ere another 
 moon should pass, they would embark and sail back to 
 their loved homes, nor ask the leave of Agamemnon. 
 
 At the foot of Mount Ida there stood a temple of 
 Apollo, built by the Trojans while yet sweet Peace was 
 smiling on the land. To that temple Helenus the wise 
 soothsayer, one of Priam's sons, was wont to go, steal- 
 ing out from the city in the darkness of midnight, and 
 returning ere the gray dawn of morning appeared. He 
 went there that he might learn from Apollo the secrets 
 of the future, and he fondly hoped that his going was 
 unknown to the foes of Troy. But shrewd Odysseus 
 found him out ; and one night, with a band of men, he 
 lay in wait for the prophet-prince, and took him captive. 
 
 "This is a rich treasure that we have taken," said 
 Odysseus, "and it shall repay us for all our losses." 
 
 Helenus was straightway taken to the camp. Around 
 him gathered the heroes, — Agamemnon, Nestor, Mene- 
 laus, and all the rest, — demanding that he should 
 uncover the secrets of the future. 
 
 1 See Note 16 at the end of this volume. 
 
The Long Siege. 259 
 
 "When and how shall the Hellenes overcome your 
 city of Troy ? " said Odysseus. " Tell us this, and tell 
 us truly, or death in its fearfullest form shall come 
 upon thee swiftly." 
 
 Then the trembling seer revealed to his enemies that 
 which he had learned at Apollo's shrine. He told 
 them that within the present year the Hellenes would 
 certainly prevail if only they did three things, with- 
 out which Troy could never be taken. First, the Pal- 
 ladion, the monster image of Athene, must be removed 
 from the temple in the city, and set up in the camp 
 by the seashore. Second, young Pyrrhus the son of 
 Achilles must be brought from his island-home of Scyros 
 to take the place of his father at the head of the 
 Myrmidon host. And third, Philoctetes, who had been 
 so deeply wronged by the chiefs, and left to perish on 
 the desert shores of Lemnos, must be found and brought 
 to Troy, and healed of his grievous wound. 
 
 "These are great tasks and heavy," said Odysseus. 
 " Nevertheless I will undertake to see them performed." 
 
 Then he ordered a swift ship to be made ready ; and 
 with old Phoinix as companion, and a score of trusted 
 fighting-men, he went on board, and sailed at once for 
 Scyros the quondam home of great Achilles. Ten days 
 afterward he returned, bringing with him the lad 
 Pyrrhus, so like his glorious father in face and figure 
 that the Myrmidons hailed him at once as their chief 
 and king. 
 
 "Thus have I done one of the three tasks," said 
 
260 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 Odysseus. " I shall perform the other two, mayhap as 
 easily, and then the high walls of Troy shall fall before 
 us." 
 
 Three days later the swift ship of Odysseus again 
 put to sea ; and young Pyrrhus was the hero's comrade. 
 It was but a short voyage to Lemnos ; and, when they 
 reached that island, they moored their vessel in the 
 sheltering cove close by the spot where, nine years 
 before, the suffering Philoctetes had been left. Odys- 
 seus concealed himself, and sent the young prince on 
 shore with some of the warriors who had come with 
 them ; for he rightly guessed that Philoctetes had not 
 forgotten the wrong which he had suffered at his hands. 
 
 Pyrrhus found the hero living alone in a wretched 
 cave with no friend but the mighty bow of Heracles, 
 and suffering still great torments from the horrid wound 
 in his foot. Yet the prince could not prevail upon 
 him to sail to Troy ; for he said that he would rather 
 endure the distress, the hunger, and the loneliness 
 which were his in Lemnos, than meet again those false 
 friends who had left him there to die. Then Odys- 
 seus came forth from his hiding-place, with a company 
 of men, to seize the hero and carry him by force on 
 board the vessel. But this the young prince would not 
 permit ; and Philoctetes, when he saw them, fled into 
 the innermost parts of his cave, and would not come 
 forth. When Odysseus found that neither threats nor 
 entreaties would prevail upon the hero, he went back to 
 his ship, and made ready to return to Troy. Then it 
 
The Long Siege. 261 
 
 was that a vision appeared to Philoctetes, — a vision of 
 Blighty Heracles clothed in bright raiment, and a great 
 glory shining in his face. 
 
 " Go thou to the land of Ilios," said the vision. 
 "There thou shalt first be healed of thy grievous sick- 
 ness ; and afterwards thou shalt do great deeds, and 
 shalt aid in taking the city ; and the first prize of valor 
 shall be awarded to thee among all the heroes. For it 
 is the will of the immortals that Troy shall be taken, 
 and that my bow shall mightily aid in its overthrow." 
 
 Then Philoctetes went forth from his hiding-place, 
 and was taken on board the vessel. And as the sails 
 were spread, and the breezes wafted them towards the 
 Trojan shore, he bade a tearful farewell to Lemnos, 
 where he had spent so many years of loneliness and 
 sorrow : — 
 
 "Farewell to thee, O home that didst befriend me 
 when others failed ! Farewell, ye nymphs that haunt 
 the meadows and the shore, or dwell beside the gushing 
 mountain springs. Farewell, O cave that oft hast been 
 my shelter from the winter's frosty winds and the 
 sweltering rays of the summer's sun. I leave you 
 now ; and thou, O sea-girt Lemnos, I may never more 
 behold ! And grant, ye gods, that favoring winds may 
 blow, and carry me safely wheresoe'er the Fates would 
 have me go ! " 
 
 As soon as the heroes reached the Trojan shore, and 
 the ship was drawn to its place high on the beach, 
 Philoctetes was carried to the tents, and given in 
 
262 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 charge of Machaon, Asclepius' noble son. And as he 
 lay upon a cot in the tent of the kind physician, a 
 sweet odor, like that of blossoming orchards and the 
 bloom of clover, filled the air around him, and he slept ; 
 and men said that the spirit of Asclepius had fanned 
 him into slumber. Then Machaon, with matchless skill, 
 cut out the poisoned flesh from his foot, and cleansed 
 it, and bound it up with soft linen. And when the 
 hero awoke, the pain had left him ; and the wound 
 from which he had suffered such untold torments 
 began at once to heal. 
 
 It chanced one day as Philoctetes was sitting outside 
 of his tent, that a party of Trojans led by Paris made a 
 sally from the city gates, and came scouring across the 
 plain, intent on doing mischief to the Hellenes. As the 
 daring warriors drew near the tents, Philoctetes fitted 
 an arrow to the great bow of Heracles, and took aim 
 at their fair-faced leader. The deadly dart pierced the 
 shoulder of Paris, and he fell headlong from his chariot ; 
 and there he would have met his death, had not his 
 comrades quickly rallied, and carried him, faint with 
 pain, back to the city and his father's halls. Terrible 
 were the tortures which the hero suffered, for the 
 arrow was one of those which Heracles had poisoned 
 by dipping in the blood of the hydra. The venom sped 
 through his burning veins ; his strength failed him ; 
 the torments of a thousand deaths seemed to be upon 
 him. Then he forgot fair Helen, for whose sake was 
 all this war and bloodshed ; and he bethought him of 
 
The Long Siege. 263 
 
 gentle CEnone, whom, in the innocent days of youth, 
 he had wooed and won in the pleasant dales of Ida. 
 And he cried aloud, " Bring to rae CEnone, her whom I 
 have so grievously wronged ! She alone can heal me 
 of my hurt ! " 
 
 Then swift messengers were sent to the woody 
 slopes of Ida, to find, if it might be, the long-deserted, 
 long-forgotten wife. " Come quickly and save thy err- 
 ing but repentant husband," — such was the message, 
 — " behold, he suffers from a grievous wound ! But 
 thou art skilled in the healing art above all who dwell 
 in Ilios ; and he prays that, forgiving all wrong, thou 
 wilt hasten to help him." 
 
 When CEnone heard the message, she remembered 
 the cruel wrongs which she had endured so long at the 
 hands of faithless Paris ; and without a word in answer, 
 she turned away and went about her daily tasks in her 
 humble cottage home. Then the messengers returned 
 to Troy, and told the prince that CEnone would not 
 come to help him. And Paris, with a groan of pain 
 and a sigh of despair, turned his face to the wall, and 
 died. 
 
 Then CEnone, too late, repented that she had turned 
 a deaf ear to her husband's last request. And in haste 
 she clad herself in her wedding robes, and came to 
 the sad halls of the prince, not knowing that death had 
 taken him. Fair and beautiful as in the days of her 
 youth, she stood before his lifeless form. She took his 
 cold hands in her warm palm, and said, " I have come. 
 
264 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 O Paris ! Waken, and speak to me ! Dost thou not 
 remember me, — CEnone, whom thou didst woo in the 
 flowery dells of Ida ? I am still the same, and never 
 have I wronged thee. Speak to me, O Paris ! " Then 
 she knelt beside him, and saw the gaping wound which 
 the arrow of Philoctetes had made ; and she knew 
 that life had fled, and that the hero never more would 
 waken or speak to her. And the gentle heart of CEnone 
 was broken with the anguish which came upon her ; 
 and when the men of Troy laid Paris upon the funeral 
 pile, and the smoke and flame arose towards heaven, 
 the fair, perfidious prince was not alone, for CEnone 
 shared his blazing couch. 
 
 While Troy was in mourning for the unhappy death 
 of Paris, Odysseus and Diomede were planning the 
 means by which to obtain the sacred image of Athene 1 
 — the Palladion of Troy. In the guise of a ragged 
 beggar, Odysseus found his way into the city, and to 
 the door of the temple where the great image stood. 
 
 " Ah, Odysseus ! I know thee despite thy rags ! " 
 was whispered into his ear, as a fair hand offered him a 
 pittance. He looked up, and saw the peerless Helen 
 before him, as beautiful as when, a score of years be- 
 fore, the princes of Hellas had sued for her hand at 
 the court of old Tyndareus. 
 
 "Be not afraid," she said, " I will not betray you." 
 
 And then she told him how unhappy she had been 
 in Troy, and how she longed to return to her country- 
 men and to her much-wronged husband Menelaus. And 
 
The Long Siege. 265 
 
 she promised to aid him in whatever way she could, to 
 carry off the treasured Palladion, and to open the 
 way for the overthrow of Troy. Odysseus, shrewdest 
 of men, talked not long with the princess, but soon 
 returned to the camp. Three nights later, he and 
 Diomede made their way by stealth into the city, and 
 carried away the priceless Palladion. 
 
 And now the three tasks which Helenus had spoken 
 of, had been performed. What more remained ere the 
 doomed city should be overthrown ? The chiefs must 
 needs again consult with shrewd Odysseus ; and the 
 plan which he proposed was carried out. A wooden 
 horse, of wondrous size, was made ; and in it the dough- 
 tiest heroes of the host, with young Pyrrhus as their 
 leader, hid themselves. Then the rest of the Hellenes 
 embarked, with all their goods, aboard their ships, and 
 sailed away beyond the wooded shores of Tenedos. 
 But the monster horse, with its hidden load of heroes, 
 stood alone upon the beach. 
 
 When the Trojans, looking from their high towers, 
 beheld their enemies depart, they were filled with joy ; 
 and, opening wide their gates, they poured out of the 
 city, and crowded across the plain, anxious to see 
 the wonderful horse, — the only relic which their foes 
 had left upon their shores. While they were gazing 
 upon it, and hazarding many a guess at its purpose and 
 use, a prisoner was brought before the chiefs. It was 
 Sinon, a young Hellene, who had been found lurking 
 among the rocks by the shore. Trembling with pre- 
 
266 A Story of the Golden Age. 
 
 tended fear, he told the Trojans a sad, false story, of 
 wrongs which he said he had suffered at the hands 
 of Odysseus. 
 
 " But what meaneth this monster image of a horse ? 
 Tell us that," said the Trojan chiefs. 
 
 Then Sinon told them how the Hellenes had suffered 
 great punishment at the hands of Athene^ because they 
 had stolen the sacred Palladion of Troy, and how it was 
 on this account that they had at last given up the siege 
 of Troy, and had sailed away for their homes in distant 
 Hellas. And he told them, too, of the words of Calchas 
 the soothsayer ; that they should leave on the shores 
 of Ilios an image which should serve the same pur- 
 pose to those who honored it, as the sacred Palla- 
 dion had served within the walls of Troy ; and that if 
 the Trojans should revere this figure, and set it up 
 within their walls, it would prove a tower of strength 
 to them, insuring eternal greatness to Troy, and utter 
 destruction to Hellas. 
 
 Need I tell you how this artful story deceived the 
 Trojans, and how with shouts of triumph they dragged 
 the great image into the city ? Need I tell you how, 
 in the darkness of the night, the fleet returned from 
 Tenedos, and the mighty host again landed upon the 
 Trojan shore ; or how the heroes, concealed within 
 the wooden horse, came out of their hiding-place, and 
 opened the gates to their friends outside ; or how the 
 Hellenes fell upon the astonished Trojans, awakened 
 so suddenly from a false dream of peace ; or how, with 
 
The Long Siege. 267 
 
 sword and torch, they slew and burned, and meted out 
 the doom of the fated city? It was thus that the 
 princes of Hellas performed the oath which they had 
 sworn, years and years before, in the halls of King 
 Tyndareus ; and it was thus that the wrongs of Mene- 
 laus were avenged, fair Helen was given back to her 
 husband, and the honor of Hellas was freed from 
 blemish. 
 
THE AFTER WORD. 
 
 And now, if you would learn more concerning the 
 great heroes of the Golden Age, you must read the 
 noble poems in which the story of their deeds is told. 
 In the Iliad of Homer, truly the grandest of all 
 poems written by men, you will read of what befell 
 the Greeks before the walls of Troy, — of the daring 
 of Diomede ; of the wisdom of Nestor ; of the shrewd- 
 ness of Odysseus ; of the foolish pride of Agamem- 
 non ; of the nobility of Hector ; of the grief of old 
 King Priam ; of the courage of Achilles. In the 
 JEnQid of Virgil, you will read of the last day of the 
 long siege, and the fatal folly of the Trojans ; of crafty 
 Sinon ; of the sad end of Laocoon, who dared suspect 
 the object of the wooden horse; of the destruction 
 of the mighty city ; and of the wanderings of ^Eneas 
 and the remnant of the Trojans until they had founded 
 a new city on the far Lavinian shore. In the tragedies 
 
 of iEschylus, you will read of the return of the heroes 
 
 269 
 
270 The After Word. 
 
 to Greece ; of the sad death of Agamemnon in his 
 own great banquet-hall ; of the wicked career of Cly- 
 temnestra ; of the terrible vengeance of Orestes ; of 
 what befell Iphigenia in Tauris, and how she returned 
 to her native land. And in the Odyssey of Homer, 
 second only to the Iliad in grandeur, you will read of 
 the strange adventures of Odysseus ; how he, storm- 
 tossed and wind-driven, strove for ten weary years to 
 return to Ithaca ; how, after the fall of Troy, — 
 
 " He overcame the people of Ciconia ; how he passed 
 thence to the rich fields of the race who feed upon the 
 lotus ; what the Cyclops did, and how upon the Cyclops 
 he avenged the death of his brave comrades, whom the 
 wretch had piteously slaughtered and devoured ; and 
 how he came to y£olus, and found a friendly welcome, 
 and was sent by him upon his voyage ; yet 'twas not 
 his fate to reach his native land ; a tempest caught his 
 fleet, and far across the fishy deep bore him away, 
 lamenting bitterly. And how he landed at Telepylus, 
 among the La^strigonians, who destroyed his ships 
 and warlike comrades, he alone in his black ship 
 escaping." . . . 
 
 You will read, too, of how he was driven to land 
 upon the coast where Circe the sorceress dwelt, and 
 
The After Word. 271 
 
 how he shrewdly dealt with her deceit and many 
 arts : — 
 
 " And how he went to Hades' dismal realm in his good 
 galley, to consult the soul of him of Thebes, Tiresias, 
 and beheld all his lost comrades and his mother, — her 
 who brought him forth, a*"id trained him when a child ; 
 and how he heard the Sirens afterward, and how he 
 came upon the wandering rocks, the terrible Charybdis, 
 and the crags of Scylla, — which no man had ever 
 passed in safety ; how his comrades slew for food the 
 oxen of the Sun ; how mighty Zeus, the Thunderer, 
 with a bolt of fire from heaven smote his swift bark ; 
 and how, his gallant crew all perished, he alone escaped 
 with life. And how he reached Ogygia's isle, and met 
 the nymph Calypso, who long time detained and fed 
 him in her vaulted grot, and promised that he ne'er 
 should die, nor know decay of age, through all the days 
 to come ; yet moved she not the purpose of his heart. 
 And how he next through many hardships came to the 
 Phasacians, and they welcomed him and honored him 
 as if he were a god, and to his native country in a 
 bark sent him with ample gifts of brass and gold and 
 raiment." 
 
 How he made himself known to old Eumaeus the 
 
272 The After Word. 
 
 swineherd, and to his son Telemachus, and how his 
 old nurse, Eurycleia, knew him by the scar which he 
 had received when a boy from the wild boar on Mount 
 Parnassus. How he found his palace full of rude 
 suitors seeking the hand of faithful Penelope ; and 
 how, with the great bow of Eurytus, he slew them all, 
 and spared not one. 
 
 ..." Never shall the fame 
 Of his great valor perish ; and the gods 
 Themselves shall frame, for those who dwell on earth, 
 Sweet strains in praise of sage Penelope." 
 
Notes. 272 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Note i. — Odysseus and his Nurse. Page 12. 
 
 In the Odyssey, Book I., lines 425-444, a similar incident is 
 related concerning Telemachus and Eurycleia. Many of the illus- 
 trations of life and manners given in this volume have been taken, 
 with slight changes, from Homer. It has not been thought neces- 
 sary to make distinct mention of such passages. The student of 
 Homer will readily recognize them. 
 
 Note 2. — Apollo and the Python. Page 43. 
 
 Readers of the "Story of Siegfried" cannot fail to notice the 
 resemblance of the legends relating to that hero, to some of 
 the myths of Apollo. Siegfried, like Apollo, was the bright being 
 whose presence dispelled the mists and the gloom of darkness. 
 He dwelt for a time in a mysterious but blessed region far to the 
 north. He was beneficent and kind to his friends, terrible to his 
 foes. Apollo's favorite weapons were his silver bow and silent 
 arrows ; Siegfried's main dependence was in his sun-bright armor 
 and his wonderful sword Balmung. Apollo slew the Python, and 
 left it lying to enrich the earth ; Siegfried slew Fafnir the dragon, 
 and seized its treasures for his own. — See The Story of Siegfried. 
 
 Note 3. — Sisyphus. Page 50. 
 
 " Yea, and I beheld Sisyphus in strong torment, grasping a 
 monstrous stone with both his hands. He was pressing thereat 
 
274 JSlotes. 
 
 with hands and feet, and trying to roll the stone upward toward the 
 brow of the hill. But oft as he was about to hurl it over the top, 
 the weight would drive him back : so once again to the plain rolled 
 the stone, the shameless thing. And he once more kept heaving 
 and straining; and the sweat the while was pouring down his 
 limbs, and the dust rose upwards from his head." — Homer's 
 Odyssey, XI. 595. 
 
 Note 4. — A Son of Hermes. Page 50. 
 
 Autolycus was said to have been a son of Hermes, doubtless on 
 account of his shrewdness and his reputation for thievery. Hermes 
 is sometimes spoken of as the god of thieves. 
 
 Note 5. — The Choice of Heracles. Page 61. 
 
 This moral lesson is, of course, of much later date than that of 
 our story. It is the invention of the Greek sophist Prodicus, who 
 was a contemporary of Socrates. 
 
 Note 6. — Meleager. Page 68. 
 
 Readers of the " Story of Roland " will readily recognize several 
 points of resemblance between the legend of Meleager's childhood 
 and the story of Ogier the Dane. It is, indeed, probable that very 
 much of the latter is simply a mediaeval adaptation of the former. — 
 See also the account of the three Norns in The Story of Siegfried. 
 
 Note 7. — The Death of Asclepius. Page 91. 
 
 The story of Balder, as related in the Norse mythology, has 
 many points of resemblance to that of Asclepius. Balder, although 
 a being of a higher grade than Asclepius, was the friend and bene- 
 factor of mankind. He was slain through the jealousy of the evil 
 one : his death was bewailed by all living beings, birds, beasts, 
 trees, and plants. — See The Story of Siegfried. 
 
Notes. 275 
 
 Note 8. — Paris and CEnone. Page 109. 
 
 A very beautiful version of this story is to be found in Tennyson's 
 poem entitled " OEnone." It will well repay reading. 
 
 Note 9. — The Swineherd's Story. Page 119. 
 
 This story was afterwards related to Odysseus under very 
 different circumstances. The curious reader is referred to the 
 Odyssey, Book XV., 390-485. 
 
 Note 10. — Prayers. Page 129. 
 
 *The gods themselves are placable, though far 
 Above us all in honor and in power 
 And virtue. We propitiate them with vows, 
 Incense, libations, and burnt-offerings, 
 And prayers for those who have offended. Prayers 
 Are daughters of almighty Jupiter,— 
 Lame, wrinkled, and squint-eyed, — that painfully 
 Follow Misfortune's steps ; but strong of limb 
 And swift of foot Misfortune is, and, far 
 Outstripping all, comes first to every land, 
 And there wreaks evil on mankind, which Prayers 
 Do afterwards redress. Whoe'er receives 
 Jove's daughters reverently when they approach, 
 Him willingly they aid, and to his suit 
 They listen. Whosoever puts them by 
 With obstinate denial, they appeal 
 To Jove, the son of Saturn, and entreat 
 That he will cause Misfortune to attend 
 The offender's way in life, that he in turn 
 May suffer evil, and be punished thus." 
 
 The Iliad (Bryant's Translation), IX. 618-^36, 
 
 A sacrifice to Poseidon similar to that described here is spoken 
 of in the Odyssey, III. 30-60. 
 
276 Notes. 
 
 Note ii.— The Labors of Heracles. Page 140. 
 
 It seems to have been one of the unexplainable decrees of fate, 
 that Heracles should serve Eurystheus twelve years, and that at 
 his bidding he should perform the most difficult undertakings 
 The account of the twelve labors of Heracles, undertaken bj 
 command of his master, belongs to a later age than that of Homer. 
 The twelve labors were as follows : — 
 
 1. The fight with the Nemean lion. 
 
 2. The fight with the Lernsean hydra, 
 
 3. Capture of the Arcadian stag. 
 
 4. Destruction of the Erymanthian boar. 
 
 5. Cleansing the stables of Augeas. 
 
 6. Putting to flight the Harpies, or Stymphalian birds, 
 
 7. Capture of the Cretan bull. 
 
 8. Capture of the mares of Thracian Diomede- 
 
 9. Seizure of the girdle of the queen of the Amazons. 
 to. Capture of the oxen of Geryones. 
 
 f I. Fetching the golden apples of the Hesperides. 
 12. Bringing Cerberus from the lower world. 
 
 Note 12. Page 151. 
 
 The description of the palace of Tyndareus given here has 
 fcrftny points of resemblance to the description of the palace oJ 
 Aldnous. — See Odyssey^ VII. 85. 
 
 Note 13. The Vengeance of Odysseus. Page 224. 
 
 PaJamedes, according to the ancient story, went to Troy with 
 the heroes, where he distinguished himself by his wisdom and 
 courage. But Odysseus, who could never forgive him, caused a 
 captive Phrygian to write to Palamedes a letter in the name ol 
 Priam, and bribed a servant of Palamedes to conceal the letter 
 under his tnaster's bed. He then accused Palamedes of treachery. 
 
Notes. 277 
 
 Upon searching the tent, the letter was found, and Palamedes was 
 stoned to death. When Palamedes was led to death, he exclaimed, 
 u Truth, I lament thee, for thou hast died even before me ! " There 
 are other stories as to the manner of the death of Palamedes. Some 
 say that Odysseus and Diomede induced him to descend into a 
 well, where they pretended they had discovered a treasure ; and 
 when he was below, they cast stones upon him, and killed him. 
 Others state that he was drowned by them while fishing; and others 
 that he was killed by Paris with an arrow. — See Smith's Classical 
 Dictionary. 
 
 Note 14. — The Garden of Lycomedes. Page 230. 
 
 The curious reader may find in the description of the garden 
 of Alcinous (Odyssey, VII. 85, et seq.) some resemblance to the 
 description here given of the garden of Lycomedes. 
 
 Note 15. — The Caskets of Zeus. Page 233. 
 
 " Beside Jove's threshold stand 
 Two casks of gifts for man. One cask contains 
 The evil, one the good ; and he to whom 
 The Thunderer gives them mingled sometimes falls 
 Into misfortune, and is sometimes crowned 
 With blessings. But the man to whom lie gives 
 The evil only stands a mark exposed 
 To wring, and, chased by grim calamity, 
 Wanders the teeming earth, alike unloved 
 By gods and men." — The Iliad, XXIV. 663-672, 
 
 Note 16. — Death of A/ax. Page 258. 
 
 "The soul of Ajax, son of Telarnon, alone stood apart, being 
 still angry for the victory wherein 1 prevailed against him, in the 
 suit by the ships concerning the arms of Achilles that his lady 
 mother had set for a prize ; and the sons of the Trojans made 
 award and Pallas Athene. Would that I had never prevailed and 
 won such a prize ! " — Odyssey ; XI. 544-548. 
 
INDEX TO PROPER NAMES. 
 
 [The figures in parentheses indicate the page or pages on which the nami 
 receives fullest mention.} 
 
 Acarnanla (3, 72), the most western province of Hellas. 
 
 Acastus (92), son of Pelias, king of Iolcos ; he was slain by Peleus. 
 
 Achaia (5), the northern coast of Peloponnesus. 
 
 Achilles (91, 109, 225-236, 246, 255), son of Peleus and the sea-nymph 
 
 Thetis. The chief hero among the Hellenes. 
 Actceon (87), a celebrated huntsman. He was changed by Artemis into 
 
 a stag, and torn to pieces by his own dogs. 
 Admetus (90, 166), king of Pherse in Thessaly. 
 ^son (80), son of Cretheus, and father of Jason. He was excluded from 
 
 the kingship of Iolcos by his half-brother Pelias. 
 ^Etolia (5), a country north of the Corinthian Gulf (Bay of Crissa), and 
 
 east of Acarnania. 
 Agamemnon (150, 233, 238, 251), king of Mycenae, and commander-in- 
 chief of the Hellenic forces in the war against Troy. 
 Ajax Telamon, sometimes called the greater Ajax (150, 234, 257), son 
 
 of Telamon, king of Salamis. He was a nephew of Peleus, and 
 
 hence a cousin of Achilles. 
 Ajax Oileus, sometimes called the lesser Ajax (151, 234), son of Oileas, 
 
 king of the Locrians. 
 Alcestis (166), daughter of Pelias, and wife of Admetus. 
 Alpheus (132), a river which flows through Arcadia and Elis. 
 Althea (65), the mother of Meleager. 
 Amphithea (53), grandmother of Odysseus. 
 Amphitryon (55), the stepfather of Heracles. 
 
 Anticleia (2, 219), daughter of Autolycus, and mother of Odysseus. 
 Antilochus (131, 151), son of Nestor. 
 Aphareus (125, 187), founder of the town of Arene in Messene, a»d 
 
 father of Idas and Lynceus. 
 
 279 
 
280 Index to Proper Names. 
 
 Aphrodite (99-110, 160), goddess of love and beauty. 
 
 Apollo (37-46, 189, 208), son of Zeus and Leto. He was the god of 
 
 prophecy and of music and song, the punisher of evil, and the helper 
 
 of men. 
 Arcadia (5, 132), a country in the middle of the Peloponnesus. 
 Ares (223), the god of war. Mars. 
 Arethusa (133), a sea-nymph. 
 Argo (2, 89), the ship upon which Jason and his companions sailed to 
 
 Colchis. 
 Argolis, see Argos. 
 
 Argonauts (2, 67), "the sailors of the Argo." 
 Argos (2, 5), a name frequently applied by Homer to the whole of the 
 
 Peloponnesus. A district north of Laconia, often called Argolis. 
 Argus (196), a monster having a hundred eyes, appointed by Here to be 
 
 the guardian of Io. 
 Artemis (134, 239), daughter of Zeus and Leto, and the twin-sister of 
 
 Apollo. She was the goddess of the chase, and the protectress 
 
 of the young and helpless. Diana. 
 Asclepius (87-90), son of Apollo, and god of the healing art. ALscula- 
 
 pius. 
 Atalanta (68, 162), daughter of Iasus and Clymene; the fleet-footed wife 
 
 of Milanion. 
 Athene (10, 14,99-105) goddess of wisdom, and "queen of the air;" 
 
 often called Pallas Athene. Minerva. 
 Atropos (66, 98), one of the Fates. 
 
 Aulis (233, 239-251), a harbor in Bceotia, on the Euripus. 
 Autolycus (48), the grandfather of Odysseus. 
 Balios and Xanthos (97), the horses of Peleus. 
 Bceotia, a district north of the Corinthian Gulf, bounded on the east by 
 
 the Euripus, and on the west by Phocis. 
 Bosphorus (197), the "ox ford," the strait connecting the Sea of Mar- 
 mora with the Black (Euxine) Sea. 
 Cadmus (217), a Phoenician who settled in Hellas, and founded the city 
 
 of Thebes. He is said to have brought the alphabet from Phoenicia. 
 Calchas (225, 241-252), the wisest soothsayer among the Hellenes. He 
 
 died of grief because the soothsayer Mopsus predicted things which 
 
 he had not foreseen. 
 CalydSn (66-76), an ancient town and district of ^Etolia, on the Evenus 
 
 River. 
 Castor (56, 68. 146, 185), twin-brother of Folydeuces. 
 
Index to Proper Names. 281 
 
 Centaurs (84-86), an ancient race inhabiting Mount Pelion and the 
 
 neighboring districts of Thessaly. 
 Cephallenia (183), a large island near Ithaca. 
 Charybdis (155), a dreadful whirlpool on the side of a narrow strait 
 
 opposite Scylla. 
 Cheiron (58, 78, 170), a Centaur, "the wisest of men," and the teacher 
 
 of the heroes. 
 Chryse (252), an island in the ^Egaean Sea ; also a city on the coast of 
 
 Asia Minor, south of Troy. 
 Circe (270), daughter of Helios, a sorceress who lived in the island of 
 
 yEaea. 
 Cleopatra (67-76), wife of Meleager. 
 Clotho (66, 98), one of the Fates. 
 Clytemnestra (152, 242-252), daughter of Tyndareus and Leda, and 
 
 sister of Castor and Polydeuces and Helen. She was married to 
 
 Agamemnon, and became the mother of Iphigenia and Orestes. 
 Colchis (2, 87-89), a country of Asia, at the eastern extremity of the 
 
 Black Sea. 
 Copais (40), a lake in Bceotia. 
 Corinth (5, 49, 1 10), a city on the isthmus between the Corinthian Gulf 
 
 and the ^gasan Sea. 
 Corycia (51), a nymph who lived on Mount Parnassus. 
 Crissa (5, 29), the ancient name of the Gulf of Corinth ; also, the name 
 
 of a town in Phocis. 
 Cronus (11,182), the youngest of the Titans, and the father of Zeus. 
 
 Saturn. 
 Cythera (165), an island off the south-western point of Laconia. 
 Deianeira (142, 171-181), wife of Heracles. 
 
 Delos (38), the smallest of the Cyclades islands in the /Egaean Sea. 
 Delphi (5, 30-45), a town on the southern slope of Mount Parnassus. 
 Deucalion (200), son of Prometheus, and father of Hellen. 
 Diomede (151, 235), son of Tydeus, and king of Argos. 
 Dodona (171, 225), an ancient oracle of Hellas, situated in Epirus in a 
 
 grove of oaks and beeches. 
 Echion (61,76), son of Autolycus. 
 Elis (125), a country on the western coast of the Peloponnesus, south of 
 
 Achaia. 
 Epaphos (16, 198), son of Zeus and Io. 
 Eris (98), the goddess of discord. 
 Erymanthus (139), a mountain in Arcadia. 
 
282 Index to Proper Names. 
 
 Eubcea, the largest island of the ^Egaean Sea, separated from Bceotia by 
 
 the Euripus. 
 Eumseus (114-119), the swineherd of Ithaca. 
 Euripus (233), the narrow strait between Euboea and Boeotia. 
 Eurycleia (12), the nurse of Odysseus and of Telemachus. 
 Eurystheus (138), the master of Heracles, king of Argolis. 
 Eurytion (71, 92), king of Phthia. 
 Eurytion (85), a Centaur. 
 Eurytus (55, 136-144), king of CEchalia. 
 Evenus (176), a river in ./Etolia. 
 
 Ganymedes (208), the most beautiful of mortals, son of Tros. 
 Glaucus (25), a fisherman who became immortal by eating of the divine 
 
 herb which Cronus had sown. 
 Gorgons (27), three daughters of Phorcys and Ceto. 
 Gray Sisters (26), daughters of Phorcys. 
 Hades (89, 170), the god of the lower regions. Pluto. 
 Hebe (98), the goddess of youth. 
 
 Hector (101, 255), son of Priam ; the chief hero of the Trojans. 
 Helen (145-162, 216, 267), daughter of Tyndareus and Leda of Lacedas- 
 
 mon, represented in mythology as the daughter of Zeus and Leda 
 
 " The most beautiful woman in the world." 
 Helenus (258), son of Priam, soothsayer of the Trojans. 
 Helios (5, 15-19), the god of the sun. Sol. 
 
 Hellas, the name which the Greeks applied to their country. Greece. 
 Hellen (203), son of Deucalion and Pyrrha, and ancestor of all the 
 
 Hellenes. 
 Hephaestus (90, 160, 193), the god of fire. Vulcan. 
 Here (99-105), the wife of Zeus. Juno. 
 Heracles (55, 87-90, 138-144, 169-181, 211-214), the most celebrated of 
 
 all the old heroes. Hercules. 
 Hermes (100-104, 196), the herald of the gods, son of Zeus and Maia. 
 
 Mercury. 
 Hesione (210-213), tne sister of Priam. 
 Hesperia (19), "the western land." 
 Hesperides (5, 27, 139), guardians of the golden apples which Earth 
 
 gave to Here on her marriage day — said by some to be the daugh- 
 ters of Phorcys and Ceto. 
 Hippodameia (84, 167) wife of Peirithous. 
 Hyllus (176), son of Heracles. 
 Hyperboreans (6, 39), a people living in the far North. 
 
Index to Proper Names. 283 
 
 Iasus (163), an Arcadian, father of Atalanta. 
 
 Icarius (155, 162), brother of Tyndareus, and father of Penelope. 
 
 Ida (102-109, 208), a mountain-range of Mysia in Asia Minor, east of Troy. 
 
 idas (67, 185), "the boaster," son of Aphareus, and father of Cleopatra. 
 
 Idomeneus (151, 215, 235), king of Crete. 
 
 Ilios (206-214, 253), a name applied to the district in which Troy was 
 
 situated. Ilium. 
 Ilus (208), son of Dardanus. 
 Inachus (196), the first king of Argos. 
 Io (196-199), daughter of Inachus, and mother of Epaphos from whom 
 
 was descended Heracles. 
 Iolcos (77-110), an ancient town of Thessaly at the head of the 
 
 Pegasaean Gulf. 
 Iole (138-144, 173-181), daughter of Eurytus of CEchalia, beloved by 
 
 Heracles. 
 Iphigenla (242-252), daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. 
 Iphitus (136-153, 172), son of Eurytus, one of the Argonauts. 
 Ithaca (1, 113), a small island in the Ionian Sea, the birthplace of 
 
 Odysseus. 
 Jason (2, 68, 87), leader of the Argonauts. 
 Lacedcemon (5, 145-169, 189-204), a district of Laconia in which was 
 
 situated Sparta. The name is also applied to the town of Sparta. 
 Lachesis (66), one of the Fates. 
 
 Laconia (5, 145), a country in the south-east of Peloponnesus. 
 Laertes (2, 182), king of Ithaca, father of Odysseus. 
 LaodamTa (254), daughter of Acastus, and wife of Protesilaus. 
 Laomedon (208-214), king of Troy, father of Priam. 
 Lapiths (84), a people inhabiting the country adjoining Mount Pelion 
 
 in Thessaly. 
 Leda (146), wife of Tyndareus of Lacedasmon. 
 Lemnos (253, 260), an island in the ^Egaean Sea. 
 Lichas (174-179), the herald of Heracles. 
 Linus (56), a musician, brother of Orpheus. 
 Lycomedes (228), king of Scyros. 
 Lydia (173), a district of Asia Minor. 
 Lynceus (185), son of Aphareus, brother of Idas. 
 Machaon (151, 262), son of Asclepius, the surgeon of the Greeks in the 
 
 Trojan war. 
 Medea (89), daughter of ^Eetes, king of Colchis, celebrated for her 
 
 skill in magic 
 
284 Index to Proper Names. 
 
 Medusa (27), one of the Gorgons. 
 
 Meleager (66-76), son of Oineus and Althea, husband of Cleopatra. 
 
 Menelaus (150, 234), brother of Agamemnon, and husband of Helen. 
 
 Messene (120), a country in the south-western part of the Peloponnesus. 
 
 Milanion (163), the husband of Atalanta. 
 
 Mycenae (150), an ancient town in Argolis. 
 
 Mysia (239), a country in Asia Minor. 
 
 Nedon (131), a river of Messene. 
 
 Neleus (125, 173), son of Poseidon and Tyro, brother of Pelias, and 
 
 father of Nestor. 
 Nessus (176), a Centaur, ferryman at the River Evenus. 
 Nestor (125, 235), king of Pylos, son of Neleus. 
 Nireus (151, 160, 235), one of the heroes of the Trojan war. 
 Qceanus (194), god of the Ocean. 
 Odysseus, the hero of this story, son of Laertes, husband of Penelope. 
 
 Ulysses. , 
 CEchalia (138. T74), a town supposed to be somewhere in Eubcea. 
 GSnone (103, 263), daughter of the river-god Cebren, and wife of Paris. 
 OLta (171, 180), a rugged pile of mountains in the south of Thessaly. 
 Oineus (65), king of Pleuron and Calydon. 
 Olympus (5, 79), a mountain in Thessaly, on the summit of which Zeus 
 
 held his court. 
 Omphale (173), a queen of Lydia. 
 Orestes (244), son of Agamemnon. 
 Orpheus (248), the greatest of the old musicians. 
 Orsilochus (129, 134), son of Alpheus, king of Messene. 
 Ortygia (134), an island near the coast of Sicily. 
 Palamedes (166, 217-224), son of Nauplius, king of Eubcea. 
 Pallas Athene, see Athene. 
 Paris (101-110, 204-216), son of Priam of Troy. 
 Parnassus (5, 30-36, 201), a mountain, or group of mountains, a few 
 
 miles north of the Corinthian Gulf. 
 Patroclus (227, 234), the friend of Achilles. 
 Peirlthous (84, 167), king of the Lapiths, son of Ixion and Dia. 
 Peleus (71, 91-100, 227), son of yEacus and Endeis the daughter of 
 
 Cheiron. 
 Pelias (80, 125), son of Poseidon and Tyro, and brother of Neleus. He 
 
 made himself king of Iolcos, by excluding his half-brother ^Eson 
 
 from the throne. 
 Pelion (79-110), a lofty mountain in Thessaly not far from Iolcos. 
 
Index to Proper Names. 285 
 
 Peloponnesus, all that part of Hellas south of the Corinthian Gulf 
 
 (Bay of Crissa). 
 Penelope (152, 162-168), daughter of Icarius, cousin of Helen, and wife 
 
 of Odysseus. 
 Perseus (27), one of the older heroes, son of Zeus and Danae. 
 Phaeihon (15-19), son of Helios and Clymene. 
 Phemius (3, 14), a celebrated minstrel. 
 Pherae, or Pharae (130-144), an ancient town in Messene on the river 
 
 Nedon. Also (90), a town in Thessaly of which Admetus was 
 
 king. 
 Philoctetes (159, 180, 252, 260-263), a friend of Heracles, and the most 
 
 celebrated archer in the Trojan war. 
 Phorcys (20-27), "the old man of the sea." 
 Phthia (92), a district in the south-east of Thessaly. 
 Polydeuces (146, 185), brother of Castor and Helen. Pollux. 
 Poseidon (22-27, 208), the god of the sea. Neptune. 
 Priam (101, 207-214), the last king of Troy, son of Laomedon, and rather 
 
 of Hector and Paris. 
 Prometheus (191-203), a Titan, son of Iapetus, the friend of man. 
 Protesilaus (254), a hero from Phylace in Thessaly. 
 Proteus (23), the prophetic shepherd of the sea. 
 Pylos ( 1 25-1 31), a town on the south-west coast of Messene. 
 Pyrrha (201), the wife of Deucalion. 
 
 Pyrrhus (259-262), the son of Achilles, also called Neoptolemus. 
 Pythia (34), a name applied to the priestess of Apollo at Delphi. 
 Rhadamanthus (6, 56), son of Zeus and Europa, and judge and ruler in 
 
 the Islands of the Blest. 
 Scandia (164), a harbor in Cythera. 
 Scylla (155), a monster with six heads, which guarded one side of a 
 
 narrow strait. 
 Scyros (228, 259), a small island east of Euboea. 
 Sinon (265), a grandson of Autolycus, and cousin of Odysseus. 
 Sisyphus (49), son of jElus. He is said to have built the town of Ephyra, 
 
 afterward Corinth. 
 Sparta, see Lacedaemon. 
 
 Stymphalus (139), a town in the north-east of Arcadia. 
 Syma (151), a small island off the south-western coast of Caria in Asia 
 
 Minor. 
 Syria, or Syra (115), one of the Cyclades islands. 
 Talthybius (250), the herald of Agamemnon. 
 
286 Index to Proper Names. 
 
 Taygetes (149, 185), a lofty range of mountains between Laconia and 
 
 Messene. 
 Telamon (214), son of ^Eacus and Endeis, and brother of Peleus, king 
 
 of Salamis. He was the father of Ajax by Periboea, his second wife ; 
 
 after the death of Peribcea, he married Hesione, the sister of Priam. 
 Telemachus (219), the son of Odysseus and Penelope. 
 Telephus (239, 241, 252), son of Heracles and Auge, and king of Mysia 
 Theseus (147), the great hero of Attica, and king of Athens 
 Thessaly, the largest division of Hellas. 
 
 Thetis (95), a sea-nymph, wife of Peleus, and mother of Achilles. 
 Tilphussa (40), a nymph dwelling at Lake Copais. 
 Tiryns (143), a city in Argolis, not far from Mycenae. 
 Trachis (143, 171), a town of Thessaly. 
 
 Trophonius (41), one of the architects of the temple ai. Delphi. 
 Tyndareus (146-169, 184-188), king of Lacedasmon. 
 Zacynthus (183), an island west of Messene. 
 Zeus (182, 191), son of Cronus, "the ruler of gods and men." Jupiter