NY PUBLIC LIBRARY THE BRANCH LIBRARIES
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TANGLEWOOD TALES
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
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THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA
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Copyright 1921 by
THE PENN PUBLISHING
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CONTENTS
PAGE
THE MINOTAUR i
THK PYGMIES 43
THE DRAGON'S TEETH 73
CIRCE'S PALACE 117
Tin. POMEGRANATE SEEDS . .161
THE GOLDEN FLEECE . ,.. 209
ILLUSTRATIONS
Cadmus beheld a female figure, wonderfully
beautiful . . . . . . . Frontispiece
PAGE
He tugged and toiled amain ...... 3
She whipped up the snakes and ascended high over the city . 17
"Thou hast slain the monster", cried Ariadne, clasping her
hands 37
He concluded that his dear son had been eaten by the
Minotaur 41
This giant and these pygmies were all brethren . . 46
The giant gave them his brotherly kindness ... 48
They were constantly at war with the cranes ... 53
"Alas ! my dear children", answered poor Queen Telephassa 81
"Sacred Oracle of Delphi, wither shall I go"? ... 97
This pitiless reptile had killed his poo.r companions . . 105
At a distance he beheld stately towers .... 119
The voyagers examined the web of cloth .... 135
"Wretch" ! cried Circe 153
They brought along with them a great many beautiful shells . 161
So she peeped into the entrance of the cave . . . 181
They arrived at the sunniest spot in the world . . . 185
"I shall not touch it I assure you", said she . . . 200
"What shall I do"? said he 222
"I am the king's daughter" 242
At the appointed hour he met the beautiful Medea . . 244
"What is it" ? asked Jason 256
THE MINOTAUR
THE MINOTAUR
IN the old city of Trcezene, at the foot of a lofty moun-
tain, there lived, a very long time ago, a little boy
named Theseus. His grandfather, King Pittheus,
was the sovereign of that country, and was reckoned a very
wise man; so that Theseus, being brought up in the royal
palace, and being naturally a bright lad, could hardly fail
of profiting by the old king's instructions. His mother's
name was ./Ethra. As for his father, the boy had never seen
him. But, from his earliest remembrance, ^thra used to
go with little Theseus into a wood, and sit down upon a
moss-grown rock, which was deeply sunken into the earth.
Here she often talked with her son about his father, and
said that he was called vEgeus, and that he was a great king,
and ruled over Attica, and dwelt at Athens, which was as
famous a city as any in the world. Theseus was very fond
of hearing about King ygeus, and often asked his good
mother ythra why he did not come and live with them at
Troezene.
"Ah, my dear son," answered ^Ethra, with a sigh, "a mon-
arch has his people to take care of. The men and women
over whom he rules are in the place of children to him; and
he can seldom spare time to love his own children as other
parents do. Your father will never be able to leave his
kingdom for the sake of seeing his little boy."
"Well, but, dear mother," asked the boy, "why cannot I
go to this famous city of Athens, and tell King .fligeus that
I am his son?"
"That may happen by and by," said jEthra. "Be patient,
and we shall see. You are not yet big and strong enough
to set out on such an errand."
"And how soon shall I be strong enough?" Theseus per-
sisted in inquiring.
"You are but a tiny boy as yet," replied his mother. "See
if you can lift this rock on which we are sitting?"
The little fellow had a great opinion of his own strength.
So, grasping the rough protuberances of the rock, he tugged
and toiled amain, and got himself quite out of breath, with-
out being able to stir the heavy stone. It seemed rooted into
the ground. No wonder he could not move it; for it would
have taken all the force of a very strong man to lift it out of
its earthy bed.
He tugged and toiled amain.
His mother stood looking on, with a sad kind of a smile
on her lips and in her eyes, to see the zealous and yet puny
efforts of her little boy. She could not help being sorrowful
at finding him already so impatient to begin his adventures
in the world.
"You see how it is, my dear Theseus," said she. "You
must possess far more strength than now before I can trust
you to go to Athens, and tell King ygeus that you are his
son. But when you can lift this rock, and show me what is
hidden beneath it, I promise you my permission to depart."
Often and often, after this, did Theseus ask his mother
whether it was yet time for him to go to Athens ; and still his
mother pointed to the rock, and told him that for years to
come, he could not be strong enough to move it. And again
and again the rosy-cheeked and curly-headed boy would tug
and strain at the huge mass of stone, striving, child as he was,
to do what a giant could hardly have done without taking
both of his great hands to the task. Meanwhile the rock
seemed to be sinking farther and farther into the ground.
The moss grew over it thicker and thicker, until at last it
looked almost like a soft green seat, with only a few gray
knobs of granite peeping out. The overhanging trees, also,
shed their brown leaves upon it, as often as the autumn
came; and at its base grew ferns and wild flowers, some of
which crept quite over its surface. To all appearance, the
rock was as firmly fastened as any other portion of the earth's
substance.
But, difficult as the matter looked, Theseus was now grow-
ing up to be such a vigorous youth, that, in his own opinion,
the time would quickly come when he might hope to get the
upper hand of this ponderous lump of stone.
"Mother, I do believe it has started !" cried he, after one of
his attempts. "The earth around it is certainly a little
cracked!"
"No, no, child!" his mother hastily answered. "It is not
possible you can have moved it, such a boy as you still are!"
Nor would she be convinced, although Theseus showed
her the place where he fancied that the stem of a flower had
been partly uprooted by the movement of the rock. But
/Ethra sighed, and looked disquieted; for, no doubt, she
began to be conscious that her son was no longer a child, and
that, in a little while hence, she must send him forth among
the perils and troubles of the world.
It was not more than a year afterwards when they were
again sitting on the moss-covered stone. .^Ethra had once
more told him the oft-repeated story of his father, and how
gladly he would receive Theseus at his stately palace, and
how he would present him to his courtiers and the people,
and tell them that here was the heir of his dominions. The
eyes of Theseus glowed with enthusiasm, and he would
hardly sit still to hear his mother speak.
"Dear mother ^thra," he exclaimed, "I never felt half so
strong as now! I am no longer a child, nor a boy, nor a
mere youth. I feel myself a man ! It is now time to make
one earnest trial to remove the stone."
"Ah, my dearest Theseus," replied his mother, "not yet!
not yet!"
"Yes, mother," said he, resolutely, "the time has come."
Then Theseus bent himself in good earnest to the task, and
strained every sinew, with manly strength and resolution.
He put his whole brave heart into the effort. He wrestled
with the big and sluggish stone, as if it had been a living
enemy. He heaved, he lifted, he resolved now to succeed,
or else perish there, and let the rock be his monument
forever! ^thra stood gazing at him, and clasped her
hands, partly with a mother's pride, and partly with a
mother's sorrow. The great rock stirred! Yes, it was
raised slowly from the bedded moss and earth, uprooting the
shrubs and flowers along with it, and was turned upon its
side. Theseus had conquered!
While taking breath, he looked joyfully at his mother, and
she smiled upon him through her tears.
"Yes, Theseus," she said, "the time has come and you must
stay no longer at my side! See what King /Egeus, your
royal father, left for you, beneath the stone, when he lifted it
in his mighty arms, and laid it on the spot whence you have
now removed it."
Theseus looked, and saw that the rock had been placed
over another slab of stone, containing a cavity within it; so
that it somewhat resembled a roughly-made chest or coffer,
of which the upper mass had served as the lid. Within the
cavity lay a sword, with a golden hilt, and a pair of sandals.
"That was your father's sword," said ^thra, "and those
were his sandals. When he went to be king of Athens, he
bade me treat you as a child until you should prove yourself
a man by lifting this heavy stone. That task being accom-
plished, you are to put on his sandals, in order to follow in
your father's footsteps, and to gird on his sword, so that you
may fight giants and dragons, as King /Egeus did in his
youth."
"I will set out for Athens this very day!" cried Theseus.
But his mother persuaded him to stay a day or two longer,
while she got ready some necessary articles for the journey.
When his grandfather, the wise King Pittheus, heard that
Theseus intended to present himself at his father's palace,
he earnestly advised him to get on board of a vessel, and go
by sea ; because he might thus arrive within fifteen miles of
Athens, without either fatigue or danger.
"The roads are very bad by land," quoth the venerable
king; "and they are terribly infested with robbers and mon-
sters. A mere lad, like Theseus, is not fit to be trusted on
such a perilous journey, all by himself. No, no; let him go
by sea!"
But when Theseus heard of robbers and monsters, he
pricked up his ears, and was so much the more eager to take
the road along which they were to be met with. On the
third day, therefore, he bade a respectful farewell to his
grandfather, thanking him for all his kindness; and, after
affectionately embracing his mother, he set forth, with a
good many of her tears glistening on his cheeks, and some,
if the truth must be told, that had gushed out of his own eyes.
But he let the sun and wind dry them, and walked stoutly on,
playing with the golden hilt of his sword, and taking very
manly strides in his father's sandals.
I can tell you only a few of the adventures that befell
Theseus on the road to Athens. It is enough to say, that he
quite cleared that part of the country of the robbers, about
whom King Pittheus had been so much alarmed. One of
these bad people was named Procrustes ; and he was indeed a
terrible fellow, and had an ugly way of making fun of the
poor travellers who happened to fall into his clutches. In
his cavern he had a bed, on which, with great pretence of
hospitality, he invited his guests to lie down ; but if they hap-
pened to be shorter than the bed, this wicked villain stretched
them out by main force ; or, if they were too tall, he lopped off
their heads or feet, and laughed at what he had done, as an
excellent joke. Thus, however weary a man might be he
never liked to lie in the bed of Procrustes. Another of these
robbers, named Scinis, must likewise have been a very great
scoundrel. He was in the habit of flinging his victims off
a high cliff into the sea ; and, in order to give him exactly his
deserts, Theseus tossed him off the very same place. But if
you will believe me, the sea would not pollute itself by receiv-
ing such a bad person into its bosom, neither would the earth,
having once got rid of him, consent to take him back ; so that,
8
between the cliff and the sea, Scinis stuck fast in the air,
which was forced to bear the burden of his naughtiness.
After these memorable deeds, Theseus heard of an enor-
mous sow, which ran wild, and was the terror of all the
farmers round about; and, as he did not consider himself
above doing any good thing that came in his way, he killed
this monstrous creature, and gave the carcass to the poor
people for bacon. The great sow had been an awful beast,
while ramping about the woods and fields, but was a pleasant
object enough when cut up into joints, and smoking on I
know not how many dinner tables.
Thus, by the time he reached his journey's end, Theseus
had done many valiant feats with his father's golden-hiked
sword, and had gained the renown of being one of the
bravest young men of the day. His fame travelled faster
than he did, and reached Athens before him. As he entered
the city, he heard the inhabitants talking at the street corners,
and saying that Hercules was brave, and Jason too, and
Castor and Pollux likewise, but that Theseus, the son of
their own king, would turn out as great a hero as the best
of them. Theseus took longer strides on hearing this, and
fancied himself sure of a magnificent reception at his
father's court, since he came thither with Fame to blow her
trumpet before him, and cry to King TEgeus, "Behold
your son!"
He little suspected, innocent youth that he was, that here,
8999999999
in this very Athens, where his father reigned, a greater
danger awaited him than any which he had encountered on
the road. Yet this was the truth. You must understand
that the father of Theseus, though not very old in years,
was almost worn out with the cares of government, and had
thus grown aged before his time. His nephews, not ex-
pecting him to live a very great while, intended to get all
the power of the kingdom into their own hands. But when
they heard that Theseus had arrived in Athens, and learned
what a gallant young man he was, they saw that he would
not be at all the kind of person to let them steal away his
father's crown and sceptre, which ought to be his own by
right of inheritance. Thus these bad-hearted nephews of
King /Egeus, who were the own cousins of Theseus, at once
became his enemies. A still more dangerous enemy was
Medea, the wicked enchantress ; for she was now the king's
wife, and wanted to give the kingdom to her son Medus,
instead of letting it be given to the son of ythra, whom
she hated.
It so happened that the king's nephews met Theseus, and
found out who he was, just as he reached the entrance of
the royal palace. With all their evil designs against him,
they pretended to be their cousin's best friends, and ex-
pressed great joy at making his acquaintance. They pro-
posed to him that he should come into the king's presence
as a stranger, in order to try whether .fligeus would discover
10
in the young man's features any likeness either to himself
or his mother /Ethra, and thus recognize him for a son.
Theseus consented; for he fancied that his father would
know him in a moment, by the love that was in his heart.
But, while he waited at the door, the nephews ran and
told King /Egeus that a young man had arrived in Athens
who, to their certain knowledge, intended to put him to
death, and get possession of his royal crown.
"And he is now waiting for admission to your majesty's
presence," added they.
"Aha!" cried the old king, on hearing this. "Why, he
must be a very wicked young fellow indeed! Pray, what
would you advise me to do with him?"
In reply to this question, the wicked Medea put in her
word. As I have already told you, she was a famous en-
chantress. According to some stories, she was in the habit
of boiling old people in a large caldron, under pretence
of making them young again; but King /Egeus, I suppose,
did not fancy such an uncomfortable way of growing young,
or perhaps was contented to be old, and therefore would
never let himself be popped into the caldron. If there were
time to spare from more important matters, I should be glad
to tell you of Medea's fiery chariot, drawn by winged
dragons, in which the enchantress used often to take an
airing among the clouds. This chariot, in fact, was the
vehicle that first brought her to Athens, where she had done
II
nothing but mischief ever since her arrival. But these and
many other wonders must be left untold; and it is enough
to say, that Medea, amongst a thousand other bad things,
knew how to prepare a poison, that was instantly fatal to
whomsoever might so much as touch it with his lips.
So, when the king asked what he should do with Theseus,
this naughty woman had an answer ready at her tongue's
end.
"Leave that to me, please your majesty," she replied.
"Only admit this evil-minded young man to your presence,
treat him civilly, and invite him to drink a goblet of wine.
Your majesty is well aware that I sometimes amuse myself
with distilling very powerful medicines. Here is one of
them in this small phial. As to what it is made of, that is
one of my secrets of state. Do but let me put a single drop
into the goblet, and let the young man taste it; and I will
answer for it, he shall quite lay aside the bad designs with
which he comes hither."
As she said this, Medea smiled; but, for all her smiling
face, she meant nothing less than to poison the poor inno-
cent Theseus, before his father's eyes. And King /Egeus,
like most other kings, thought any punishment mild enough
for a person who was accused of plotting against his life.
He therefore made little or no objection to Medea's scheme,
and as soon as the poisonous wine was ready, gave orders
that the young stranger should be admitted into his pres-
12
ence. The goblet was set on a table beside the king's
throne ; and a fly, meaning just to sip a little from the brim,
immediately tumbled into it, dead. Observing this, Medea
looked round at the nephews, and smiled again.
When Theseus was ushered into the royal apartment, the
only object that he seemed to behold was the white-bearded
old king. There he sat on his magnificent throne, a daz-
zling crown on his head, and a scepter in his hand. His
aspect was stately and majestic, although his years and
infirmities weighed heavily upon him, as if each year were
a lump of lead, and each infirmity a ponderous stone, and
all were bundled up together, and laid upon his weary
shoulders. The tears of both joy and sorrow sprang into
the young man's eyes; for he thought how sad it was to see
his dear father so infirm, and how sweet it would be to sup-
port him with his own youthful strength, and to cheer him
up with the alacrity of his loving spirit. When a son takes
his father into his warm heart, it renews the old man's youth
in a better way than by the heat of Medea's magic caldron.
And this was what Theseus resolved to do. He could
scarcely wait to see whether King /Egeus would recognize
him, so eager was he to throw himself into his arms.
Advancing to the foot of the throne, he attempted to make
a little speech, which he had been thinking about, as he
came up the stairs. But he was almost choked by a great
many tender feelings that gushed out of his heart and swelled
into his throat, all struggling to find utterance together.
And therefore, unless he could have laid his full, over-
brimming heart into the king's hand, poor Theseus knew
not what to do or say. The cunning Medea observed what
was passing in the young man's mind. She was more wicked
at that moment than ever she had been before; for (and it
makes me tremble to tell you of it) she did her worst to
turn all this unspeakable love with which Theseus was
agitated, to his own ruin and destruction.
"Does your majesty see his confusion?" she whispered in
the king's ear. "He is so conscious of guilt, that he trem-
bles and cannot speak. The wretch lives too long! Quick!
offer him the wine !"
Now King /Egeus had been gazing earnestly at the young
stranger, as he drew near the throne. There was something,
he knew not what, either the white brow, or in the fine ex-
pression of his mouth, or in his beautiful and tender eyes,
that made him indistinctly feel as if he had seen this youth
before; as if, indeed, he had trotted him on his knee when
a baby, and had beheld him growing to be a stalwart man,
while he himself grew old. But Medea guessed how the
king felt, and would not suffer him to yield to these natural
sensibilities; although they were the voice of his deepest
heart, telling him, as plainly as it could speak, that here
was our dear son, and ^Ethra's son, coming to claim him for
a father. The enchantress again whispered in the king's
ear, and compelled him, by her witchcraft, to see everything
under a false aspect.
He made up his mind, therefore, to let Theseus drink
off the poisoned wine.
"Young man," said he, "you are welcome! I am proud
to show hospitality to so heroic a youth. Do me the favor
to drink the contents of this goblet. It is brimming over,
as you see, with delicious wine, such as I bestow only on
those who are worthy of it ! None is more worthy to quaff
it than yourself !"
So saying, King /Egeus took the golden goblet from the
table, and was about to offer it to Theseus. But, partly
through his infirmities, and partly because it seemed so
sad a thing to take away this young man's life, however
wicked he might be, and partly, no doubt, because his heart
was wiser than his head, and quaked within him at the
thought of what he was going to do for all these reasons,
the king's hand trembled so much that a great deal of the
wine slopped over. In order to strengthen his purpose,
and fearing lest the whole of the precious poison should be
wasted, one of his nephews now whispered to him,
"Has your majesty any doubt of this stranger's guilt?
There is the very sword with which he meant to slay you.
How sharp, and bright, and terrible it is! Quick! let
him taste the wine; or perhaps he may do the deed even
yet."
At these words, .ZEgeus drove every thought and feeling
out of his breast, except the one idea of how justly the young
man deserved to be put to death. He sat erect on his throne,
and held out the goblet with a steady hand, and bent on
Theseus a frown of kingly severity; for, after all, he had
too noble a spirit to murder even a treacherous enemy with
a deceitful smile upon his face.
"Drink!" said he, in the stern tone with which he was
wont to condemn a criminal to be beheaded. "You have
well deserved of me such wine as this !"
Theseus held out his hand to take the wine. But, before
he touched it, King /Egeus trembled again. His eyes had
fallen on the gold-hiked sword that hung at the young man's
side. He drew back the goblet.
"That sword !" he exclaimed ; "how came you by it?"
"It was my father's sword," replied Theseus, with a
tremulous voice. "These were his sandals. My dear
mother (her name is ZEthra) told me his story while I was
yet a little child. But it is only a month since I grew strong
enough to lift the heavy stone, and take the sword and
sandals from beneath it, and come to Athens to seek my
father."
"My son! my son!" cried King /Egeus, flinging away
the fatal goblet, and tottering down from the throne to fall
into the arms of Theseus. "Yes, these are ^thra's eyes.
It is my son."
16
SHE WHIPPED UP THE SNAKES AND ASCENDKD HIC.H OVER THE CITY
I have quite forgotten what became of the king's nephews.
But when the wicked Medea saw this new turn of affairs,
she hurried out of the room, and going to her private cham-
ber, lost no time in setting her enchantments at work. In
a few moments, she heard a great noise of hissing snakes
outside of the chamber window; and, behold! there was her
fiery chariot, and four huge winged serpents, wriggling
and twisting in the air, flourishing their tails higher than the
top of the palace, and all ready to set off on an aerial jour-
ney. Medea staid only long enough to take her son with
her, and to steal the crown jewels, together with the king's
best robes, and whatever other valuable things she could
lay hands on; and getting into the chariot, she whipped
up the snakes, and ascended high over the city.
The king, hearing the hiss of the serpents, scrambled as
fast as he could to the window, and bawled out to the
abominable enchantress never to come back. The whole
people of Athens, too, who had run out of doors to see this
wonderful spectacle, set up a shout of joy at the prospect of
getting rid of her. Medea, almost bursting with rage,
uttered precisely such a hiss as one of her own snakes, only
ten times more venomous and spiteful; and glaring fiercely
out of the blaze of the chariot, she shook her hands over
the multitude below, as if she were scattering a million
curses among them. In so doing, however, she uninten-
tionally let fall about five hundred diamonds of the first
water, together with a thousand great pearls, and two thou-
sand emeralds, rubies, sapphires, opals, and topazes, to
which she had helped herself out of the king's strong box.
All these came pelting down, like a shower of many-colored
hailstones, upon the heads of grown people and children,
who forthwith gathered them up, and carried them back to
the palace. But King .ftigeus told them that they were
welcome to the whole, and to twice as many more, if he had
them, for the sake of his delight at rinding his son, and losing
the wicked Medea. And, indeed, if you had seen how hate-
ful was her last look, as the flaming chariot flew upward,
you would not have wondered that both king and people
should think her departure a good riddance.
And now Prince Theseus was taken into great favor by
his royal father. The old king was never weary of having
him sit beside him on his throne, (which was quite wide
enough for two,) and of hearing him tell about his dear
mother, and his childhood, and his many boyish efforts to
lift the ponderous stone. Theseus, however, was much too
brave and active a young man to be willing to spend all
his time in relating things which had already happened.
His ambition was to perform other and more heroic deeds,
which should be better worth telling in prose and verse.
Nor had he been long in Athens before he caught and
chained a terrible mad bull, and made a public show of him,
18
greatly to the wonder and admiration of good King /Egeus
and his subjects. But pretty soon, he undertook an affair
that made all his foregone adventures seem like mere boy's
play. The occasion of it was as follows :
One morning, when Prince Theseus awoke, he fancied
that he must have had a very sorrowful dream, and that it
was still running in his mind, even now that his eyes were
open. For it appeared as if the air was full of a melancholy
wail ; and when he listened more attentively, he could hear
sobs, and groans, and screams of woe, mingled with deep,
quiet sighs, which came from the king's palace, and from
the streets, and from the temples, and from every habitation
in the city. And all these mournful noises, issuing out of
thousands of separate hearts, united themselves into one
great sound of affliction, which had startled Theseus from
slumber. He put on his clothes as quickly as he could,
(not forgetting his sandals and gold-hiked sword,) and
hastening to the king, inquired what it all meant.
"Alas! my son," quoth King vEgeus, heaving a long
sigh, "here is a very lamentable matter in hand! This is
the woefulest anniversary in the whole year. It is the day
when we annually draw lots to see which of the youths and
maidens of Athens shall go to be devoured by the horrible
Minotaur!"
"The Minotaur!" exclaimed Prince Theseus and like a
brave young prince as he was, he put his hand to the hilt
19
990999999 -8
^*r "9^
of his sword. "What kind of a monster may that be? Is
it not possible, at the risk of one's life, to slay him?"
But King vEgeus shook his venerable head, and to con-
vince Theseus that it was quite a hopeless case, he gave him
an explanation of the whole affair. It seems that in the
Island of Crete there lived a certain dreadful monster, called
a Minotaur, which was shaped partly like a man and partly
like a bull, and was altogether such a hideous sort of a
creature that it is really disagreeable to think of him. If he
were suffered to exist at all, it should have been on some
desert island, or in the duskiness of some deep cavern, where
nobody would ever be tormented by his abominable aspect.
But King Minos, who reigned over Crete, laid out a vast
deal of money in building a habitation for the Minotaur,
and took great care of his health and comfort, merely for
mischief's sake. A few years before this time, there had
been a war between the city of Athens and the island of
Crete, in which the Athenians were beaten and compelled
to beg for peace. No peace could they obtain, however,
except on condition that they should send seven young men
and seven maidens, every year, to be devoured by the pet
monster of the cruel King Minos. For three years past, this
grievous calamity had been borne. And the sobs, and
groans, and shrieks, with which the city was now filled, were
caused by the people's woe, because the fatal day had come
20
again, when the fourteen victims were to be chosen by lot;
and the old people feared lest their sons or daughters might
be taken, and the youths and damsels dreaded lest they them-
selves might be destined to glut the ravenous maw of that
detestable man-brute.
But when Theseus heard the story, he straightened himself
up, so that he seemed taller than ever before ; and as for his
face, it was indignant, despiteful, bold, tender, and com-
passionate, all in one look.
"Let the people of Athens, this year, draw lots for only
six young men, instead of seven," said he. "I will myself be
the seventh; and let the Minotaur devour me, if he can!"
"O my dear son," cried King ^Egeus, "why should you
expose yourself to this horrible fate? You are a royal
prince, and have a right to hold yourself above the destinies
of common men."
"It is because I am a prince, your son, and the rightful
heir of your kingdom, that I freely take upon me the
calamity of your subjects," answered Theseus. "And you
my father, being king over this people, and answerable to
Heaven for their welfare, are bound to sacrifice what is
dearest to you, rather than that the son or daughter of the
poorest citizen should come to any harm."
The old king shed tears, and besought Theseus not to
leave him desolate in his old age, more especially as he had
just begun to know the happiness of possessing a good and
21
valiant son. Theseus, however, felt that he was in the right,
and therefore would not give up his resolution. But he
assured his father that he did not intend to be eaten up,
unresistingly, like a sheep, and that, if the Minotaur
devoured him, it should not be without a battle for his
dinner. And finally, since he could not help it, King
^Egeus consented to let him go. So a vessel was got ready,
and rigged with black sails; and Theseus, with six other
young men, and seven tender and beautiful damsels, came
down to the harbor to embark. A sorrowful multitude
accompanied them to the shore. There was the poor old
king, too, leaning on his son's arm, and looking as if his
single heart held all the grief of Athens.
Just as Prince Theseus was going on board, his father be-
thought himself of one last word to say.
"My beloved son," said he, grasping the prince's hand,
"you observe that the sails of this vessel are black ; as indeed
they ought to be, since it goes upon a voyage of sorrow and
despair. Now, being weighed down with infirmities, I
know not whether I can survive till the vessel shall return.
But, as long as I do live, I shall creep daily to the top of
yonder cliff, to watch if there be a sail upon the sea. And,
dearest Theseus, if by some happy chance, you should escape
the jaws of the Minotaur, then tear down those dismal sails,
and hoist others that shall be bright as the sunshine. Be-
holding them on the horizon, myself and all the people will
22
know that you are coming back victorious, and will welcome
you with such a festal uproar as Athens never heard before."
Theseus promised that he would do so. Then, going on
board, the mariners trimmed the vessel's black sails to the
wind, which blew faintly off the shore, being pretty much
made up of the sighs that everybody kept pouring forth on
this melancholy occasion. But by and by, when they had
got fairly out to sea, there came a stiff breeze from the north-
west, and drove them along as merrily over the white-capped
waves as if they had been going on the most delightful
errand imaginable. And though it was a sad business
enough, I rather question whether fourteen young people,
without any old persons to keep them in order, could con-
tinue to spend the whole time of the voyage in being
miserable. There had been some few dances upon the
undulating deck, I suspect, and some hearty bursts of
laughter, and other such unseasonable merriment among the
victims, before the high, blue mountains of Crete began to
show themselves among the far-off clouds. That sight, to be
sure, made them all very grave again.
Theseus stood among the sailors, gazing eagerly towards
the land; although, as yet, it seemed hardly more substantial
than the clouds, amidst which the mountains were looming
up. Once or twice, he fancied that he saw a glare of some
bright object, a long way off, flinging a gleam across the
waves.
"Did you see that flash of light?" he inquired of the
master of the vessel.
"No, prince; but I have seen it before," answered the
master. "It came from Talus, I suppose."
As the breeze came fresher just then, the master was busy
with trimming his sails, and had no more time to answer
questions. But while the vessel flew faster and faster
towards Crete, Theseus was astonished to behold a human
figure, gigantic in size, which appeared to be striding, with
a measured movement, along the margin of the island. It
stepped from cliff to cliff, and sometimes from one headland
to another, while the sea foamed and thundered on the shore
beneath, and dashed its jets of spray over the giant's feet.
What was still more remarkable, whenever the sun shone on
this huge figure, it flickered and glimmered; its vast coun-
tenance, too, had a metallic lustre, and threw great flashes of
splendor through the air. The folds of its garments, more-
over, instead of waving in the wind, fell heavily over its
limbs, as if woven of some kind of metal.
The nigher the vessel came, the more Theseus wondered
what this immense giant could be and whether it actually
had life or no. For though it walked, and made other
lifelike motions, there yet was a kind of jerk in its gait,
which, together with its brazen aspect, caused the young
prince to suspect that it was no true giant, but only a wonder-
ful piece of machinery. The figure looked all the more
24
terrible because it carried an enormous brass club on its
shoulder.
"What is this wonder?" Theseus asked of the master of
the vessel, who was now at leisure to answer him.
"It is Talus, the man of Brass," said the master.
"And is he a live giant, or a brazen image?" asked
Theseus.
"That, truly," replied the master, "is the point which has
always perplexed me. Some say, indeed, that this Talus
was hammered out. for King Minos by Vulcan himself, the
skilfulest of all workers in metal. But who ever saw a
brazen image that had sense enough to walk round an island
three times a day, as this giant walks round the Island of
Crete, challenging every vessel that comes nigh the shore?
And, on the other hand, what living thing, unless his
sinews were made of brass, would not be weary of marching
eighteen hundred miles in the twenty-four hours, as Talus
does, without ever sitting down to rest? He is a puzzler,
take him how you will."
Still the vessel went bounding onward; and now Theseus
could hear the brazen clangor of the giant's footsteps, as he
trod heavily upon the sea-beaten rocks, some of which were
seen to crack and crumble into the foamy waves beneath his
weight. As they approached the entrance of the port, the
giant straddled clear across it, with a foot firmly planted on
each headland, and uplifting his club to such a height that
its butt-end was hidden in a cloud, he stood in that formidable
posture, with the sun gleaming all over his metallic surface.
There seemed nothing else to be expected but that, the next
moment, he would fetch his great club down, slam bang, and
smash the vessel into a thousand pieces, without heeding how
many innocent people he might destroy ; for there is seldom
any mercy in a giant, you know, and quite as little in a piece
of brass clockwork. But just when Theseus and his com-
panions thought the blow was coming, the brazen lips un-
closed themselves, and the figure spoke.
"Whence come you, strangers?"
And when the ringing voice ceased, there was just such a
reverberation as you may have heard within a great church
bell, for a moment or two after the stroke of the hammer.
"From Athens!" shouted the master in reply.
"On what errand?" thundered the Man of Brass.
And he whirled his club aloft more threateningly than
ever, as if he were about to smite them with a thunderstroke
right amidships, because Athens, so little while ago, had
been at war with Crete.
"We bring the seven youths and the seven maidens,"
answered the master, "to be devoured by the Minotaur!"
"Pass!" cried the brazen giant.
That one loud word rolled all about the sky, while again
there was a booming reverberation within the figure's breast.
The vessel glided between the headlands of the port, and the
26
giant resumed his march. In a few moments, this wondrous
sentinel was far away, flashing in the distant sunshine, and
revolving with immense strides around the Island of Crete,
as it was his never-ceasing task to do.
No sooner had they entered the harbor than a party of the
guards of King Minos came down to the water side, and took
charge of the fourteen young men and damsels.
Surrounded by these armed warriors, Prince Theseus and his
companions were led to the king's palace, and ushered into
his presence. Now, Minos was a stern and pitiless king.
If the figure that guarded Crete was made of brass, then the
monarch, who ruled over it, might be thought to have a still
harder metal in his breast, and might have been called a man
of iron. He bent his shaggy brows upon the poor Athenian
victims. Any other mortal, beholding their fresh and ten-
der beauty, and their innocent looks, would have felt himself
sitting on thorns until he had made every soul of them happy,
by bidding them go free as the summer wind. But this
immitigable Minos cared only to examine whether they were
plump enough to satisfy the Minotaur's appetite. For my
part, I wish he himself had been the only victim; and the
monster would have found him a pretty tough one.
One after another, King Minos called these pale, fright-
ened youths and sobbing maidens to his footstool, gave them
each a poke in the ribs with his scepter, (to try whether they
were in good flesh or no,) and dismissed them with a nod to
27
his guards. But when his eyes rested on Theseus, the king
looked at him more attentively, because his face was calm
and brave.
"Young man," asked he, with his stern voice, "are you not
appalled at the certainty of being devoured by this terrible
Minotaur?"
"I have offered my life in a good cause," answered
Theseus, "and therefore I give it freely and gladly. But
thou, King Minos, art thou not thyself appalled, who, year
after year, hast perpetrated this dreadful wrong, by giving
seven innocent youths and as many maidens to be devoured
by a monster? Dost thou not tremble, wicked king, to turn
thine eyes inward on thine own heart? Sitting there on thy
golden throne, and in thy robes of majesty, I tell thee to thy
face, King Minos, thou art a more hideous monster than the
Minotaur himself!"
"Aha! do you think me so?" cried the king, laughing in
his cruel way. "To-morrow, at breakfast time, you shall
have an opportunity of judging which is the greater monster,
the Minotaur or the king! Take them away, guards; and
let this free-spoken youth be the Minotaur's first morsel!"
Near the king's throne (though I had no time to tell you
so before) stood his daughter, Ariadne. She was a beau-
tiful and tender-hearted maiden, and looked at these poor
doomed captives with very different feelings from those of
the ironbreasted King Minos. She really wept, indeed,at
28
Illlllllllllllllllll
the idea of how much human happiness would be needlessly
thrown away, by giving so many young people, in the first
bloom and rose blossom of their lives, to be eaten up by a
creature who, no doubt, would have preferred a fat ox, or
even a large pig, to the plumpest of them. And when she
beheld the brave, spirited figure of Prince Theseus bearing
himself so calmly in his terrible peril, she grew a hundred
times more pitiful than before. As the guards were taking
him away, she flung herself at the king's feet, and besought
him to set all the captives free, and especially this one young
man.
"Peace, foolish girl!" answered King Minos. "What
hast thou to do with an affair like this? It is a matter of
state policy, and therefore quite beyond thy weak compre-
hension. Go water thy flowers, and think no more of these
Athenian caitiffs, whom the Minotaur shall as certainly
eat up for breakfast as I will eat a partridge for my supper."
So saying, the king looked cruel enough to devour
Theseus and all the rest of the captives, himself, had there
been no Minotaur to save him the trouble. As he would
hear not another word in their favor, the prisoners were
now led away, and clapped into a dungeon, where the jailer
advised them to go to sleep as soon as possible, because the
Minotaur was in the habit of calling for breakfast early.
The seven maidens and six of the young men soon sobbed
themselves to slumber. But Theseus was not like them.
29
He felt conscious that he was wiser, and braver, and stronger
than his companions, and that therefore he had the respon-
sibility of all their lives upon him, and must consider
whether there was no way to save them, even in this last
extremity. So he kept himself awake, and paced to and fro
across the gloomy dungeon in which they were shut up.
Just before midnight, the door was softly unbarred, and
the gentle Ariadne showed herself, with a torch in her hand.
"Are you awake, Prince Theseus?" she whispered.
"Yes," answered Theseus. "With so little time to live,
I do not choose to waste any of it in sleep."
"Then follow me," said Ariadne, "and tread softly."
What had become of the jailer and the guards, Theseus
never knew. But, however that might be, Ariadne opened
all the doors, and led him forth from the darksome prison
into the pleasant moonlight.
"Theseus," said the maiden, "you can now get on board
your vessel, and sail away for Athens."
"No," answered the young man; "I will never leave Crete
unless I can first slay the Minotaur, and save my poor com-
panions, and deliver Athens from this cruel tribute."
"I knew that this would be your resolution," said Ariadne.
"Come, then, with me, brave Theseus. Here is your own
sword, which the guards deprived you of. You will need
it; and pray Heaven you may use it well."
Then she led Theseus along by the hand until they came
II II
to a dark, shadowy grove, where the moonlight wasted itself
on the tops of the trees, without shedding hardly so much
as a glimmering beam upon their pathway. After going
a good way through this obscurity, they reached a high,
marble wall, which was overgrown with creeping plants,
that made it shaggy with their verdure. The wall seemed
to have no door, nor any windows, but rose up, lofty, and
massive, and mysterious, and was neither to be clambered
over, nor, so far as Theseus could perceive, to be passed
through. Nevertheless, Ariadne did but press one of her
soft little fingers against a particular block of marble, and,
though it looked as solid as any other part of the wall, it
yielded to her touch, disclosing an entrance just wide
enough to admit them. They crept through, and the marble
stone swung back into its place.
"We are now." said Ariadne, "in the famous labyrinth
which Daedalus built before he made himself a pair of wings,
and flew away from our island like a bird. That Dasdalus
was a very cunning workman; but of all his artful contri-
vances, this labyrinth is the most wondrous. Were we to
take but a few steps from the doorway, we might wander
about all our lifetime, and never find it again. Yet in the
very center of this labyrinth is the Minotaur; and, Theseus,
you must go thither to seek him.
"But how shall I ever find him," asked Theseus, "if the
labyrinth so bewilders me as you say it will?"
II
Just as he spoke, they heard a rough and very disagree-
able roar, which greatly resembled the lowing of a fierce
bull, but yet had some sort of sound like the human voice.
Theseus even fancied a rude articulation in it, as if the
creature that uttered it were trying to shape his hoarse breath
into words. It was at some distance, however, and he really
could not tell whether it sounded most like a bull's roar
or a man's harsh voice.
"That is the Minotaur's noise," whispered Ariadne,
closely grasping the hand of Theseus, and pressing one of
her own hands to her heart, which was all in a tremble.
"You must follow that sound through the windings of the
labyrinth, and, by and by, you will find him. Stay! take
the end of this silken string; I will hold the other end; and
then, if you win the victory, it will lead you again to this
spot. Farewell, brave Theseus."
So the young man took the end of the silken string in
his left hand, and his gold-hiked sword ready drawn from
its scabbard, in the other, and trod boldly into the inscrutable
labyrinth. How this labyrinth was built is more than I
can tell you. But so cunningly contrived a mizmaze was
never seen in the world, before nor since. There can be
nothing else so intricate, unless it were the brain of a man
like Daedalus, who planned it, or the heart of any ordinary
man; which last, to be sure, is ten times as great a mystery
as the labyrinth of Crete. Theseus had not taken five steps
before he lost sight of Ariadne; and in five more his head
was growing dizzy. But still he went on, now creeping
through a low arch, now ascending a flight of steps, now
in one crooked passage, and now in another, with here a
door opening before him, and there one banging behind,
until it really seemed as if the walls spun round, and whirled
him along with them. And all the while, through these
hollow avenues, now nearer, now farther off again, re-
sounded the cry of the Minotaur; and the sound was so
fierce, so cruel, so ugly, so like a bull's roar, and withal
so like a human voice, and yet like neither of them, that
the brave heart of Theseus grew sterner and angrier at
every step, for he felt it an insult to the moon and sky, and
to our affectionate and simple Mother Earth, that such a
monster should have the audacity to exist.
As he passed onward, the clouds gathered over the moon,
and the labyrinth grew so dusky that Theseus could no
longer discern the bewilderment through which he was
passing. He would have felt quite lost, and utterly hope-
less of ever again walking in a straight path, if, every little
while, he had not been conscious of a gentle twitch at the
silken cord. Then he knew that the tender-hearted Ariadne
was still holding the other end, and that she was fearing
for him, and hoping for him, and giving him just as much
of her sympathy as if she were close by his side. O, indeed,
I can assure you, there was a vast deal of human sympathy
33
running along that slender thread of silk. But still he
followed the dreadful roar of the Minotaur, which now grew
louder and louder, and finally so very loud that Theseus
fully expected to come close upon him, at every new zigzag
and wriggle of the path. And at last, in an open space,
at the very center of the labyrinth, he did discern the hideous
creature.
Sure enough, what an ugly monster it was! Only his
horned head belonged to a bull; and yet, somehow or other,
he looked like a bull all over, preposterously waddling on
his hind legs; or if you happened to view him in another
way, he seemed wholly a man, and all the more monstrous
for being so. And there he was, the wretched thing, with
no society, no companion, no kind of a mate, living only
to do mischief, and incapable of knowing what affection
means. Theseus hated him, and shuddered at him, and
yet could not but be sensible of some sort of pity; and all
the more, the uglier and more detestable the creature was.
For he kept striding to and fro, in a solitary frenzy of rage,
continually emitting a hoarse roar, which was oddly mixed
up with half-shaped words; and, after listening a while,
Theseus understood that the Minotaur was saying to him-
self how miserable he was, and how hungry, and how he
hated everybody, and how he longed to eat up the human
race alive.
34
Ah, the bull-headed villain! And O, my good little
people, you will perhaps see, one of these days, as I do now,
that every human being who suffers anything evil to get
into his nature, or to remain there, is a kind of Minotaur,
an enemy of his fellow-creatures, and separated from all
good companionship, as this poor monster was.
Was Theseus afraid? By no means, my dear auditors.
What! a hero like Theseus afraid! Not had the Minotaur
had twenty bull heads instead of one. Bold as he was,
however, I rather fancy that it strengthened his valiant heart,
just at this crisis, to feel a tremulous twitch at the silken
cord, which he was still holding in his left hand. It was
as if Ariadne were giving him all her might and courage;
and, much as he already had, and little as she had to give,
it made his own seem twice as much. And to confess the
honest truth, he needed the whole; for now the Minotaur,
turning suddenly about, caught sight of Theseus, and in-
stantly lowered his horribly sharp horns, exactly as a mad
bull does when he means to rush against an enemy. At
the same time, he belched forth a tremendous roar, in which
there was something like the words of human language,
but all disjointed and shaken to pieces by passing through
the gullet of a miserably enraged brute.
Theseus could only guess what the creature intended
to say, and that rather by his gestures than his words; for
the Minotaur's horns were sharper than his wits, and of
flftffffffffffftfltt
35
a great deal more service to him than his tongue. But
probably this was the sense of what he uttered :
"Ah, wretch of a human being! I'll stick my horns
through you, and toss you fifty feet high, and eat you up
the moment you come down."
"Come on, then, and try it!" was all that Theseus deigned
to reply; for he was far too magnanimous to assault his
enemy with insolent language.
Without more words on either side, there ensued the most
awful fight between Theseus and the Minotaur that ever
happened beneath the sun or moon. I really know not how
it might have turned out, if the monster, in his first head-
long rush against Theseus, had not missed him, by a hair's
breadth, and broken one of his horns short off against the
stone wall. On this mishap, he bellowed so intolerably
that a part of the labyrinth tumbled down, and all the in-
habitants of Crete mistook the noise for an uncommonly
heavy thunder storm. Smarting with the pain, he galloped
around the open space in so ridiculous a way that Theseus
laughed at it, long afterwards, though not precisely at the
moment. After this, the two antagonists stood valiantly
up to one another, and fought, sword to horn, for a long
while. At last, the Minotaur made a run at Theseus,
grazed his left side with his horn, and flung him down; and
thinking that he had stabbed him to the heart, he cut a great
caper in the air, opened his bull mouth from ear to ear, and
36
''THOU HAST SLAIN THE MONSTER", CRIED ARIADNF, CLASPING HER HANDS
prepared to snap his head off. But Theseus by this time
had leaped up, and caught the monster off his guard.
Fetching a sword stroke at him with all his force, he hit
him fair upon the neck, and made his bull head skip six
yards from his human body, which fell down flat upon the
ground.
So now the battle was ended. Immediately the moon
shone out as brightly as if all the troubles of the world,
and all the wickedness and the ugliness that infest human
life, were past and gone forever. And Theseus, as he leaned
on his sword, taking breath, felt another twitch of the silken
cord; for all through the terrible encounter, he had held
it fast in his left hand. Eager to let Ariadne know of his
success, he followed the guidance of the thread, and soon
found himself at the entrance of the labyrinth.
"Thou hast slain the monster," cried Ariadne, clasping
her hands.
"Thanks to thee, dear Ariadne," answered Theseus, "I
return victorious."
"Then," said Ariadne, "we must quickly summon thy
friends, and get them and thyself on board the vessel before
dawn. If morning finds thee here, my father will avenge
the Minotaur."
To make my story short, the poor captives were awakened,
and, hardly knowing whether it was not a joyful dream,
were told of what Theseus had done, and that they must
ffftftfiffttftffffff
37
set sail for Athens before daybreak. Hastening down to
the vessel, they all clambered on board, except Prince The-
seus, who lingered behind them, on the strand, holding
Ariadne's hand clasped in his own.
"Dear maiden," said he, "thou wilt surely go with us.
Thou art too gentle and sweet a child for such an iron-
hearted father as King Minos. He cares no more for thee
than a granite rock cares for the little flower that grows in
one of its crevices. But my father, King ygeus, and my
mother, ^thra, and all the fathers and mothers in Athens,
and all the sons and daughters too, will love and honor thee
as their benefactress. Come with us, then ; for King Minos
will be very angry when he knows what thou hast done."
Now, some low-minded people, who pretend to tell the
story of Theseus and Ariadne, have the face to say that this
royal and honorable maiden did really flee away, under
cover of the night, with the young stranger whose life she
had preserved. They say, too, that Prince Theseus (who
would have died sooner than wrong the meanest creature
in the world) ungratefully deserted Ariadne, on a solitary
island, where the vessel touched on its voyage to Athens.
But, had the noble Theseus heard these falsehoods, he would
have served their slanderous authors as he served the Mino-
taur! Here is what Ariadne answered, when the brave
prince of Athens besought her to accompany him :
"No, Theseus," the maiden said, pressing his hand, and
then drawing back a step or two, "I cannot go with you.
My father is old, and has nobody but myself to love him.
Hard as you think his heart is, it would break to lose me.
At first, King Minos will be angry; but he will soon forgive
his only child ; and, by and by, he will rejoice, I know, that
no more youths and maidens must come from Athens to
be devoured by the Minotaur. I have saved you, Theseus,
as much for my father's sake as for your own. Farewell!
Heaven bless you !"
All this was so true, and so maiden-like, and was spoken
with so sweet a dignity, that Theseus would have blushed
to urge her any longer. Nothing remained for him, there-
fore, but to bid Ariadne an affectionate farewell, and to
go on board the vessel, and set sail.
In a few moments the white foam was boiling up before
their prow, as Prince Theseus and his companions sailed
out of the harbor, with a whistling breeze behind them.
Talus, the brazen giant, on his never-ceasing sentinel's
march, happened to be approaching that part of the coast;
and they saw him, by the glimmering of the moonbeams
on his polished surface, while he was yet a great way off.
As the figure moved like clockwork, however, and could
neither hasten his enormous strides nor retard them, he
arrived at the port when they were just beyond the reach
of his club. Nevertheless, straddling from headland to
headland, as his custom was, Talus attempted to strike a
o
39
blow at the vessel, and, overreaching himself, tumbled full
length into the sea, which splashed high over his gigantic
shape, as when an iceberg turns a somerset. There he lies
yet; and whoever desires to enrich himself by means of
brass had better go thither with a diving bell, and fish up
Talus.
On the homeward voyage, the fourteen youths and
damsels were in excellent spirits, as you will easily suppose.
They spent most of their time in dancing, unless when the
sidelong breeze made the deck slope too much. In due
season, they came within sight of the coast of Attica, which
was their native country. But here, I am grieved to tell you,
happened a sad misfortune.
You will remember (what Theseus unfortunately forgot)
that his father, King /Egeus, had enjoined upon him to
hoist sunshiny sails, instead of black ones, in case he should
overcome the Minotaur, and return victorious. In the joy
of their success, however, and amidst the sports, dancing,
and other merriment, with which these young folks wore
away the time, they never once thought whether their sails
were black, white, or rainbow colored, and, indeed, left
it entirely to the mariners whether they had any sails at
all. Thus the vessel returned, like a raven, with the same
sable wings that had wafted her away. But poor King
vEgeus, day after day, infirm as he was, had clambered to
the summit of a cliff that overhung the sea, and there sat
40
watching for Prince Theseus, homeward bound; and no
sooner did he behold the fatal blackness of the sails, than
he concluded that his dear son, whom he loved so much,
He concluded that his dear son had been eaten by the Minotaur.
and felt so proud of, had been eaten by the Minotaur. He
could not bear the thought of living any longer; so, first
flinging his crown and scepter into the sea, (useless baubles
that they were to him now!) King ygeus merely stooped
forward, and fell headlong over the cliff, and was
drowned, poor soul, in the waves that foamed at its base!
This was melancholy news for Prince Theseus, who,
when he stepped ashore, found himself king of all the
country, whether he would or no; and such a turn of for-
tune was enough to make any young man feel very much
out of spirits. However, he sent for his dear mother to
Athens, and, by taking her advice in matters of state, became
a very excellent monarch, and was greatly beloved by his
people.
42
THE PYGMIES
THE PYGMIES
A GREAT while ago, when the world was full of
wonders, there lived an earth-born Giant, named
Antaeus, and a million or more of curious little
earth-born people, who were called Pygmies. This Giant
and these Pygmies being children of the same mother, (that
is to say, our good old Grandmother Earth,) were all breth-
ren, and dwelt together in a very friendly and affectionate
manner, far, far off, in the middle of hot Africa. The Pyg-
mies were so small, and there were so many sandy deserts
and such high mountains between them and the rest of man-
kind, that nobody could get a peep at them oftener than
once in a hundred years. As for the Giant, being of a
very lofty stature, it was easy enough to see him, but safest
to keep out of his sight.
Among the Pygmies, I suppose, if one of them grew to
II
43
the height of six or eight inches, he was reckoned a prodi-
giously tall man. It must have been very pretty to behold
their little cities, with streets two or three feet wide, paved
with the smallest pebbles, and bordered by habitations about
as big as a squirrel's cage. The king's palace attained to
the stupendous magnitude of Periwinkle's baby house, and
stood in the center of a spacious square, which could hardly
have been covered by our hearth rug. Their principal
temple, or cathedral, was as lofty as yonder bureau, and
was looked upon as a wonderfully sublime and magnificent
edifice. All these structures were built neither of stone nor
wood. They were neatly plastered together by the Pygmy
workmen, pretty much like birds' nests, out of straw,
feathers, egg shells, and other small bits of stuff, with stiff
clay instead of mortar ; and when the hot sun had dried them,
they were just as snug and comfortable as a Pygmy could
desire.
The country round about was conveniently laid out in
fields, the largest of which was nearly of the same extent
as one of Sweet Fern's flower beds. Here the Pygmies
used to plant wheat and other kinds of grain, which, when
it grew up and ripened, overshadowed these tiny people,
as the pines, and the oaks, and the walnut and chestnut
trees overshadow you and me, when we walk in our own
tracts of woodland. At harvest time, they were forced to
44
go with their little axes and cut down the grain, exactly as
a woodcutter makes a clearing in the forest; and when a
stalk of wheat, with its overburdened top, chanced to come
crashing down upon an unfortunate Pygmy, it was apt
to be a very sad affair. If it did not smash him all to pieces,
at least, I am sure, it must have made the poor little fellow's
head ache. And O, my stars! if the fathers and mothers
were so small, what must the children and babies have been?
A whole family of them might have been put to bed in a
shoe, or have crept into an old glove, and played hide and
seek in its thumb and fingers. You might have hidden
a year-old baby under a thimble.
Now these funny Pygmies, as I told you before, had a
Giant for their neighbor and brother, who was bigger, if
possible, than they were little. He was so very tall that
he carried a pine tree, which was eight feet through the
butt, for a walking stick. It took a far-sighted Pygmy,
I can assure you, to discern his summit without the help of
a telescope; and sometimes, in misty weather, they could
not see his upper half, but only his long legs, which seemed to
be striding about by themselves. But at noonday, in a clear
atmosphere, when the sun shone brightly over him, the
Giant Antaeus presented a very grand spectacle. There
he used to stand, a perfect mountain of a man, with his
great countenance smiling down upon his little brothers,
45
This giant and these pygmies were all brethren.
and his one vast eye (which was as big as a cart wheel,
and placed right in the center of his forehead) giving a
friendly wink to the whole nation at once.
The Pygmies loved to talk with Antseus; and fifty times
a day, one or another of them would turn up his head, and
shout through the hollow of his fists, "Halloo, brother
Antaeus! How are you, my good fellow?" And when
the small, distant squeak of their voices reached his ear,
the Giant would make answer, "Pretty well, brother Pygmy,
I thank you," in a thunderous roar that would have shaken
down the walls of their strongest temple, only that it came
from so far aloft.
It was a happy circumstance that Antaeus was the
Pygmy people's friend; for there was more strength in his
little finger than in ten million of such bodies as theirs. If
he had been as ill-natured to them as he was to everybody
else, he might have beaten down their biggest city at one
kick, and hardly have known that he did it. With the
tornado of his breath, he could have stripped the roofs from
a hundred dwellings, and sent thousands of the inhabitants
whirling through the air. He might have set his immense
foot upon a multitude; and when he took it up again, there
would have been a pitiful sight, to be sure. But, being
the son of Mother Earth, as they likewise were, the Giant
gave them his brotherly kindness, and loved them with as
big a love as it was possible to feel for creatures so very
small. And, on their parts, the Pygmies loved Antaeus
with as much affection as their tiny hearts could hold. He
was always ready to do them any good offices that lay in
his power; as for example, when they wanted a breeze to
turn their wind mills, the Giant would set all the sails a-going
with the mere natural respiration of his lungs. When
the sun was too hot, he often sat himself down, and let his
47
shadow fall over the kingdom, from one frontier to the
other; and as for matters in general, he was wise enough
to let them alone, and leave the Pygmies to manage their
own affairs which, after all, is about the best thing that
great people can do for little ones.
In short, as I said before, Antaeus loved the Pygmies,
and the Pygmies loved Antaeus. The Giant's life being
as long as his body was large, while the lifetime of a Pygmy
was but a span, this friendly intercourse had been going
on for innumerable generations and ages. It was written
about in the Pygmy histories, and talked about in their
ancient traditions. The most venerable and white-bearded
Pygmy had never heard of a time even, in his greatest of
grandfather's days, when the Giant was not their enormous
friend. Once, to be sure, (as was recorded on an obelisk,
three feet high, erected on the place of the catastrophe,)
Antaeus sat down upon about five thousand Pygmies who
were assembled at a military review. But this was one of
those unlucky accidents for which nobody is to blame; so
that the small folks never took it to heart and only requested
the Giant to be careful forever afterwards to examine
the acre of ground where he intended to squat himself.
It is a very pleasant picture to imagine Antaeus standing
among the Pygmies, like the spire of the tallest cathedral
that ever was built, while they ran about like pismires at
his feet, and to think that, in spite of their difference in
48
THE GIANT CAVE THENPWlS BROTHERLY KINDNESS
size, there were affection and sympathy between them and
him! Indeed, it has always seemed to me that the Giant
needed the little people more than the Pygmies needed the
Giant. For, unless they had been his neighbors and well
wishers, and, as we may say, his playfellows, Antseus would
not have had a single friend in the world. No other
being like himself had ever been created. No creature of
his own size had ever talked with him, in thunder-like
accents, face to face. When he stood with his head among
the clouds, he was quite alone, and had been so for hundreds
of years, and would be so forever. Even if he had met
another Giant, Antaeus would have fancied the world not
big enough for two such vast personages, and, instead of
being friends with him, would have fought him till one
of the two was killed. But with the Pygmies he was the
most sportive, and humorous, and merry-hearted, and
sweet-tempered old Giant that ever washed his face in a
wet cloud.
His little friends, like all other small people, had a great
opinion of their own importance, and used to assume quite
a patronizing air towards the giant.
"Poor creature!" they said one to another. "He has a
very dull time of it, all by himself; and we ought not to
grudge wasting a little of our precious time to amuse him.
He is not half so bright as we are, to be sure; and, for that
reason, he needs us to look after his comfort and happiness.
49
Let us be kind to the old fellow. Why, if Mother Earth
had not been very kind to ourselves, we might all have been
Giants too."
On all their holidays, the Pygmies had excellent sport
with Antseus. He often stretched himself out at full length
on the ground, where he looked like the long ridge of a hill ;
and it was a good hour's walk, no doubt, for a short-legged
Pygmy to journey from head to foot of the Giant. He
would lay down his great hand flat on the grass, and
challenge the tallest of them to clamber upon it, and straddle
from finger to finger. So fearless were they, that they made
nothing of creeping in among the folds of his garments.
When his head lay sidewise on the earth, they would march
boldly up, and peep into the great cavern of his mouth, and
take it all as a joke (as indeed it was meant) when Antaeus
gave a sudden snap with his jaws, as if he were going to swal-
low fifty of them at once. You would have laughed to see
the children dodging in and out among his hair, or swinging
from his beard. It is impossible to tell half of the funny
tricks that they played with their huge comrade ; but I do not
know that anything was more curious than when a party of
boys were seen running races on his forehead, to try which
of them could get first round the circle of his one great eye.
It was another favorite feat with them to march along the
bridge of his nose, and jump down upon his upper lip.
If the truth must be told, they were sometimes as trouble-
some to the Giant as a swarm of ants or mosquitoes,
especially as they had a fondness for mischief, and liked to
prick his skin with their little swords and lances, to see how
thick and tough it was. But Antaeus took it all kindly
enough; although, once in a while, when he happened to be
sleepy, he would grumble out a peevish word or two, like
the muttering of a tempest, and ask them to have done with
their nonsense. A great deal oftener, however, he watched
their merriment and gambols until his huge, heavy, clumsy
wits were completely stirred up by them; and then would he
roar out such a tremendous volume of immeasurable laugh-
ter, that the whole nation of Pygmies had to put their hands
to their ears, else it would certainly have deafened them.
"Ho! ho! ho!" quoth the Giant, shaking his mountainous
sides. "What a funny thing it is to be little! If I were not
Antaeus, I should like to be a Pygmy, just for the joke's
sake."
The Pygmies had but one thing to trouble them in the
world. They were constantly at war with the cranes, and
had always been so, ever since the long-lived Giant could
remember. From time to time, verv terrible battles had
been fought, in which sometimes the little men won the vic-
tory, and sometimes the cranes. According to some
historians, the Pygmies used to go to the battle, mounted on
the backs of goats and rams; but such animals as these must
have been far too big for Pygmies to ride upon; so that, I
rather suppose, they rode on squirrelback, or rabbitback, or
ratback, or perhaps got upon hedge-hogs, whose prickly
quills would be very terrible to the enemy. However this
might be, and whatever creatures the Pygmies rode upon, I
do not doubt that they made a formidable appearance, armed
with sword and spear, and bow and arrow, blowing their
tiny trumpet, and shouting their little war cry. They never
failed to exhort one another to fight bravely, and recollect
that the world had its eyes upon them; although, in simple
truth, the only spectator was the Giant Antaeus, with his one,
great, stupid eye, in the middle of his forehead.
When the two armies joined battle, the cranes would rush
forward, flapping their wings and stretching out their necks,
and would perhaps snatch up some of the Pygmies crosswise
in their beaks. Whenever this happened, it was truly an
awful spectacle to see those little men of might kicking and
sprawling in the air, and at last disappearing down the
crane's long, crooked throat, swallowed up alive. A hero,
you know, must hold himself in readiness for any kind of
fate ; and doubtless the glory of the thing was a consolation
to him, even in the crane's gizzard. If Antaeus observed
that the battle was going hard against his little allies, he
generally stopped laughing, and ran with mile-long strides
to their assistance, flourishing his club aloft and shouting at
the cranes, who quacked and croaked, and retreated as fast
as they could. Then the Pygmy army would march home-
flffitftflftffflfftt
52
O,
They were constantly at war with the cranes.
ward in triumph, attributing the victory entirely to their own
valor, and to the warlike skill and strategy of whomsoever
happened to be captain general; and for a tedious while
afterwards, nothing would be heard of but grand pro-
cessions, and public banquets, and brilliant illuminations,
and shows of waxwork, with likenesses of the distinguished
officers, as small as life.
In the above-described warfare, if a Pygmy chanced to
53
pluck out a crane's tail feather, it proved a very great feather
in his cap. Once or twice, if you will believe me, a little man
was made chief ruler of the nation for no other merit in the
world than bringing home such a feather.
But I have now said enough to let you see what a gallant
little people these were, and how happily they and their
forefathers, for nobody knows how many generations, had
lived with the immeasurable Giant Antasus. In the remain-
ing part of the story, I shall tell you of a far more astonishing
battle than any that was fought between the Pygmies and the
cranes.
One day the mighty Antaeus was lolling at full length
among his little friends. His pine tree walking stick lay on
the ground, close by his side. His head was in one part of
the kingdom, and his feet extended across the boundaries of
another part ; and he was taking whatever comfort he could
get, while the Pygmies scrambled over him, and peeped into
his cavernous mouth, and played among his hair. Some-
times, for a minute or two, the Giant dropped asleep, and
snored like the rush of a whirlwind. During one of these
little bits of slumber, a Pygmy chanced to climb upon his
shoulder, and took a view around the horizon, as from the
summit of a hill ; and he beheld something, a long way off,
which made him rub the bright specks of his eyes, and look
sharper than before. At first he mistook it for a mountain,
54
ty^fy tfty J?> \f ^& ^^J 1 *S?^ ^?^ tyty 4^^* ^^2*
ana wondered how it had grown up so suddenly out of the
earth. But soon he saw the mountain move. As it came
nearer and nearer, what should it turn out to be but a human
shape, not so big as Antaeus, it is true, although a very
enormous figure, in comparison with the Pygmies, and a vast
deal bigger than the men whom we see nowadays.
When the Pygmy was quite satisfied that his eyes had not
deceived him, he scampered, as fast as his legs would carry
him, to the Giant's ear, and stooping over its cavity, shouted
lustily into it,
"Halloo, brother Antseus! Get up this minute, and take
your pine tree walking stick in your hand. Here comes
another Giant to have a tussle with you."
"Poh, poh !" grumbled Antseus, only half awake. "None
of your nonsense, my little fellow! Don't you see I'm
sleepy. There is not a Giant on earth for whom I would
take the trouble to get up."
But the Pygmy looked again, and now perceived that
the stranger was coming directly towards the prostrate form
of Antaeus. With every step, he looked less like a blue
mountain, and more like an immensely large man. He was
soon so nigh, that there could be no possible mistake about
the matter. There he was, with the sun flaming on his
golden helmet, and flashing from his polished breastplate;
he had a sword by his side, and a lion's skin over his back,
and on his right shoulder he carried a club, which looked
bulkier and heavier than the pine-tree walking stick of
Antaeus.
By this time, the whole nation of Pygmies had seen the
new wonder, and a million of them set up a shout, all to-
gether; so that it really made quite an audible squeak.
"Get up, Antaeus! Bestir yourself, you lazy old Giant!
Here comes another Giant, as strong as you are, to fight
with you."
"Nonsense, nonsense!" growled the sleepy Giant. "I'll
have my nap out, come who may."
Still the stranger drew nearer; and now the Pygmies could
plainly discern that, if his stature were less lofty than the
Giant's, yet his shoulders were even broader. And, in
truth, what a pair of shoulders they must have been! As
I told you, a long while ago, they once upheld the sky.
The Pygmies, being ten times as vivacious as their great
numskull of a brother, could not abide the Giant's slow
movements, and were determined to have him on his feet.
So they kept shouting to him, and even went so far as to
prick him with their swords.
"Get up, get up, get up!" they cried. "Up with you,
lazy bones! The strange Giant's club is bigger than your
own, his shoulders are the broadest, and we think him the
stronger of the two."
Antaeus could not endure to have it said that any mortal
was half so mighty as himself. This latter remark of the
Pygmies pricked him deeper than their swords, and, sitting
up, in rather a sulky humor, he gave a gape of several yards
wide, rubbed his eye, and finally turned his stupid head
in the direction whither his little friends were eagerly
pointing.
No sooner did he set his eye on the stranger, than, leap-
ing on his feet, and seizing his walking stick, he strode
a mile or two to meet him; all the while brandishing the
sturdy pine tree, so that it whistled through the air.
"Who are you?" thundered the Giant. "And what do
you want in my dominions?"
There was one strange thing about Antaeus, of which
I have not yet told you, lest, hearing of so many wonders
all in a lump, you might not believe much more than half
of them. You are to know, then, that whenever this re-
doubtable Giant touched the ground, either with his hand,
his foot, or any other part of his body, he grew stronger
than ever he had been before. The Earth, you remember,
was his mother, and was very fond of him, as being almost
the biggest of her children ; and so she took this method of
keeping him always in full vigor. Some persons affirm
that he grew ten times stronger at every touch; others say
that it was only twice as strong. But only think of it!
Whenever Antaeus took a walk, supposing it were but ten
miles, and that he stepped a hundred yards at a stride, you
f-a,
'r.d.
57
If-Iiiiwvii-wvww
may try to cipher out how much mightier he was, on sitting
down again, than when he first started. And whenever
he flung himself on the earth to take a little repose, even
if he got up the very next instant, he would be as strong
as exactly ten just such Giants as his former self. It was
well for the world that Antaeus happened to be of a sluggish
disposition, and liked ease better than exercise; for, if he
had frisked about like the Pygmies, and touched the earth
as often as they did, he would long ago have been strong
enough to pull down the sky about people's ears. But these
great lubberly fellows resemble mountains, not only in bulk,
but in their disinclination to move.
Any other mortal man, except the very one whom Antaeus
had now encountered, would have been half frightened to
death by the Giant's ferocious aspect and terrible voice. But
the stranger did not seem at all disturbed. He carelessly
lifted his club, and balanced it in his hand measuring Antaeus
with his eye, from head to foot, not as if wonder-smitten at
his stature, but as if he had seen a great many Giants before,
and this was by no means the biggest of them. In fact,
if the Giant had been no bigger than the Pygmies, (who
stood pricking up their ears, and looking and listening to
what was going forward,) the stranger could not have been
less afraid of him.
"Who are you, I say?" roared Antaeus again. "What's
your name? Why do you come hither? Speak, you vaga-
58
bond, or I'll try the thickness of your skull with my walking
stick."
"You are a very discourteous Giant," answered the
stranger, quietly, "and I shall probably have to teach you
a little civility, before we part. As for my name, it is
Hercules. I have come hither because this is my most
convenient road to the garden of the Hesperides, whither
I am going to get three of the golden apples for King
Eurystheus."
"Caitiff, you shall go no farther!" bellowed Antaeus,
putting on a grimmer look than before; for he had heard of
the mighty Hercules, and hated him because he was said
to be so strong. "Neither shall you go back whence you
came!"
"How will you prevent me," asked Hercules, "from
going whither I please?"
"By hitting you a rap with this pine tree here," shouted
Antseus, scowling so that he made himself the ugliest mon-
ster in Africa. "I am fifty times stronger than you ; and,
now that I stamp my foot upon the ground, I am five hun-
dred times stronger ! I am ashamed to kill such a puny little
dwarf as you seem to be. I will make a slave of you, and
you shall likewise be the slave of my brethren, here, the
Pygmies. So throw down your club and your other
weapons; and as for that lion's skin, I intend to have a
pair of gloves made of it."
59
"Come and take it off my shoulders, then," answered
Hercules, lifting his club.
Then the Giant, grinning with rage, strode tower-like
towards the stranger, (ten times strengthened at every step,)
and fetched a monstrous blow at him with his pine tree,
which Hercules caught upon his club; and being more
skilful than Antaeus, he paid him back such a rap upon
the sconce, that down tumbled the great lumbering man-
mountain, flat upon the ground. The poor little Pygmies
(who really never dreamed that anybody in the world was
half so strong as their brother Antaeus) were a good deal
dismayed at this. But no sooner was the Giant down, than
up he bounced again, with tenfold might, and such a furi-
ous visage as was horrible to behold. He aimed another
blow at Hercules, but struck awry, being blinded with
wrath, and only hit his poor innocent Mother Earth, who
groaned and trembled at the stroke. His pine tree went
so deep into the ground, and stuck there so fast, that, before
Antaeus could get it out, Hercules brought down his club
across his shoulders with a mighty thwack, which made
the Giant roar as if all sorts of intolerable noises had come
screeching and rumbling out of his immeasurable lungs
in that one cry. Away it went, over mountains and valleys,
and, for aught I know, was heard on the other side of the
African deserts.
As for the Pygmies, their capital city was laid in ruins
60
by the concussion and vibration of the air; and, though
there was uproar enough without their help, they all set
up a shriek out of three millions of little throats, fancying,
no doubt, that they swelled the Giant's bellow by at least
ten times as much. Meanwhile, Antaeus had scrambled
upon his feet again, and pulled his pine tree out of the
earth; and, all aflame with fury, and more outrageously
strong than ever, he ran at Hercules, and brought down
another blow.
"This time, rascal, shouted he, you shall not escape
me."
But once more Hercules warded off the stroke with his
club, and the Giant's pine tree was shattered into a thousand
splinters, most of which flew among the Pygmies, and did
them more mischief than I like to think about. Before
Antaeus could get out of the way, Hercules let drive again,
and gave him another knock-down blow, which sent him
heels over head, but served only to increase his already
enormous and insufferable strength. As for his rage, there
is no telling what a fiery furnace it had now got to be. His
one eye was nothing but a circle of red flame. Having
now no weapons but his fists, he doubled them up, (each
bigger than a hogshead,) smote one against the other, and
danced up and down with absolute frenzy, flourishing his
immense arms about, as if he meant not merely to kill
Hercules, but to smash the whole world to pieces.
61
"Come on!" roared this thundering Giant. "Let me hit
you but one box on the ear, and you'll never have the head-
ache again."
Now Hercules (though strong enough, as you already
know, to hold the sky up) began to be sensible that he should
never win the victory, if he kept on knocking Antaeus down ;
for, by and by, if he hit him such hard blows, the Giant
would inevitably, by the help of his Mother Earth, become
stronger than the mighty Hercules himself. So, throwing
down his club, with which he had fought so many dreadful
battles, the hero stood ready to receive his antagonist with
naked arms.
"Step forward," cried he. "Since I've broken your pine
tree, we'll try which is the better man at a wrestling match."
"Aha! then I'll soon satisfy you," shouted the Giant; for,
if there was one thing on which he prided himself more
than another, it was his skill in wrestling. "Villain, I'll
fling you where you can never pick yourself up again."
On came Antaeus, hopping and capering with the scorch-
ing heat of his rage, and getting new vigor wherewith to
wreak his passion, every time he hopped. But Hercules,
you must understand, was wiser than this numskull of a
Giant, and had thought of a way to fight him, huge, earth-
born monster that he was, and to conquer him too, in
spite of all that his Mother Earth could do for him. Watch-
ing his opportunity, as the mad Giant made a rush at him,
62
Hercules caught him round the middle with both hands,
lifted him high into the air, and held him aloft overhead.
Just imagine it, my dear little friends! What a spectacle
it must have been, to see this monstrous fellow sprawling
in the air, face downward, kicking out his long legs and
wriggling his whole vast body, like a baby when its father
holds it at arm's length towards the ceiling.
But the most wonderful thing was, that, as soon as Antaeus
was fairly off the earth, he began to lose the vigor which he
had gained by touching it. Hercules very soon perceived
that his troublesome enemy was growing weaker, both
because he struggled and kicked with less violence, and
because the thunder of his big voice subsided into a grumble.
The truth was, that, unless the Giant touched Mother Earth
as often as once in five minutes, not only his overgrown
strength, but the very breath of his life, would depart from
him. Hercules had guessed this secret; and it may be well
for us all to remember it, in case we should ever have to
fight a battle with a fellow like Antaeus. For these earth-
born creatures are only difficult to conquer on their own
ground, but may be managed if we can contrive to lift them
into a loftier and purer region. So it proved with the poor
Giant, whom I am really a little sorry for, notwithstanding
his uncivil way of treating strangers who came to visit him.
When his strength and breath were quite gone, Hercules
gave his huge body a toss, and flung it about a mile off,
where it fell heavily, and lay with no more motion than a
sand hill. It was too late for the Giant's Mother Earth
to help him now ; and I should not wonder if his ponderous
bones were lying on the same spot to this very day, and
were mistaken for those of an uncommonly large elephant.
But, alas me ! What a wailing did the poor little Pygmies
set up when they saw their enormous brother treated in
this terrible manner. If Hercules heard their shrieks, how-
ever, he took no notice, and perhaps fancied them only the
shrill, plaintive twittering of small birds that had been
frightened from their nests by the uproar of the battle
between himself and Antaeus. Indeed, his thoughts had
been so much taken up with the Giant, that he had never
once looked at the Pygmies, nor even knew that there was
such a funny little nation in the world. And now, as he
had travelled a good way, and was also rather weary with
his exertions in the fight, he spread out his lion's skin on
the ground, and reclining himself upon it, fell fast asleep.
As soon as the Pygmies saw Hercules preparing for a
nap, they nodded their little heads at one another, and
winked with their little eyes. And when his deep, regular
breathing gave them notice that he was asleep, they assem-
bled together in an immense crowd, spreading over a space
of about twenty-seven feet square. One of their most
eloquent orators (and a valiant warrior enough, besides,
though hardly so good at any other weapon as he was with
6 4
his tongue) climbed upon a toadstool, and, from that ele-
vated position, addressed the multitude. His sentiments
were pretty much as follows; or, at all events, something
like this was probably the upshot of his speech :
"Tall Pygmies and mighty little men! You and all of
us have seen what a public calamity has been brought to
pass, and what an insult has here been offered to the majesty
of our nation. Yonder lies Antaeus, our great friend and
brother, slain, within our territory, by a miscreant who took
him at disadvantage, and fought him (if fighting it can be
called) in a way that neither man, nor Giant, nor Pygmy
ever dreamed of fighting, until this hour. And, adding
a grievous contumely to the wrong already done us, the
miscreant has now fallen asleep as quietly as if nothing
were to be dreaded from our wrath! It behooves you,
fellow-countrymen, to consider in what aspect we shall
stand before the world, and what will be the verdict of im-
partial history, should we suffer these accumulated outrages
to go unavenged.
"Antaeus was our brother, born of that same beloved
parent to whom we owe the thews and sinews, as well as the
courageous hearts, which made him proud of our relation-
ship. He was our faithful ally, and fell fighting as much
for our national rights and immunities as for his own
personal ones. We and our forefathers have dwelt in
friendship with him, and held affectionate intercourse, as
65
man to man, through immemorial generations. You re-
member how often our entire people have reposed in his
great shadow, and how our little ones have played at hide
and seek in the tangles of his hair, and how his mighty
footsteps have familiarly gone to and fro among us, and
never trodden upon any of our toes. And there lies this
dear brother this sweet and amiable friend this brave and
faithful ally this virtuous Giant this blameless and
excellent Antaeus dead ! Dead. Silent ! Powerless ! A
mere mountain of clay! Forgive my tears! Nay, I behold
your own. Were we to drown the world with them, could
the world blame us?
"But to resume: Shall we, my countrymen, suffer this
wicked stranger to depart unharmed, and triumph in his
treacherous victory, among distant communities of the
earth? Shall we not rather compel him to leave his bones
here on our soil, by the side of our slain brother's bones?
So that, while one skeleton shall remain as the everlasting
monument of our sorrow, the other shall endure as long,
exhibiting to the whole human race a terrible example of
Pygmy vengeance! Such is the question. I put it to you
in full confidence of a response that shall be worthy of our
national character, and calculated to increase, rather than
diminish, the glory which our ancestors have transmitted
to us, and which we ourselves have proudly vindicated in
our warfare with the cranes."
66
The orator was here interrupted by a burst of irrepressible
enthusiasm; every individual Pygmy crying out that the
national honor must be preserved at all hazards. He
i
bowed, and making a gesture for silence, wound up his ha-
rangue in the following admirable manner :
"It only remains for us, then, to decide whether we shall
carry on the war in our national capacity, one united
people against a common enemy, or whether some cham-
pion, famous in former fights, shall be selected to defy the
slayer of our brother Antasus to single combat. In the latter
case, though not unconscious that there may be taller men
among you, I hereby offer myself for that enviable duty.
And, believe me, dear countrymen, whether I live or die,
the honor of this great country, and the fame bequeathed
us by our heroic progenitors, shall suffer no diminution
in my hands. Never, while I can wield this sword, of which
I now fling away the scabbard never, never, never, even
if the crimson hand that slew the great Antaeus shall lay
me prostrate, like him, on the soil which I give my life
to defend."
So saying, this valiant Pygmy drew out his weapon,
(which was terrible to behold, being as long as the blade
of a penknife,) and sent the scabbard whirling over the
heads of the multitude. His speech was followed by an
uproar of applause, as its patriotism and self-devotion un-
questionably deserved; and the shouts and clapping of hands
would have been greatly prolonged, had they not been
rendered quite inaudible by a deep respiration, vulgarly
called a snore, from the sleeping Hercules.
It was finally decided that the whole nation of Pygmies
should set to work to destroy Hercules; not, be it under-
stood, from any doubt that a single champion would be
capable of putting him to the sword, but because he was
a public enemy, and all were desirous of sharing in the glory
of his defeat. There was a debate whether the national
honor did not demand that a herald should be sent with a
trumpet, to stand over the ear of Hercules, and, after blow-
ing a blast right into it, to defy him to the combat by formal
proclamation. But two or three venerable and sagacious
Pygmies, well versed in state affairs, gave it as their opinion
that war already existed, and that it was their rightful privi-
lege to take the enemy by surprise. Moreover if awakened,
and allowed to get upon his feet, Hercules might happen
to do them a mischief before he could be beaten down again.
For, as these sage counsellers remarked, the stranger's club
was really very big, and had rattled like a thunderbolt
against the skull of Antaeus. So the Pygmies resolved
to set aside all foolish punctilios, and assail their antagonist
at once.
Accordingly, all the fighting men of the nation took
their weapons, and went boldly up to Hercules, who still
lay fast asleep, little dreaming of the harm which the Pyg-
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68
mies meant to do him. A body of twenty thousand archers
marched in front, with their little bows all ready, and the
arrows on the string. The same number were ordered to
clamber upon Hercules, some with spades, to dig his eyes
out, and others with bundles of hay, and all manner of
rubbish, with which they intended to plug up his mouth
and nostrils, so that he might perish for lack of breath.
These last, however, could by no means perform their ap-
pointed duty; inasmuch as the enemy's breath rushed out
of his nose in an obstreperous hurricane and whirlwind,
which blew the Pygmies away as fast as they came nigh.
It was found necessary, therefore, to hit upon some other
method of carrying on the war.
After holding a council, the captains ordered their troops
to collect sticks, straws, dry weeds, and whatever combusti-
ble stuff they could find and make a pile of it, heaping it
high around the head of Hercules. As a great many thou-
sand Pygmies were employed in this task, they soon brought
together several bushels of inflammatory matter, and raised
so tall a heap, that, mounting on its summit, they were quite
upon a level with the sleeper's face. The archers, mean-
while, were stationed within bow shot, with orders to let
fly at Hercules the instant that he stirred. Everything
being in readiness, a torch was applied to the pile, which
immediately burst into flames, and soon waxed hot enough
to roast the enemy, had he but chosen to lie still. A Pygmy,
69
you know, though so very small, might set the world on fire,
just as easily as a Giant could; so that this was certainly
the very best way of dealing with their foe, provided they
could have kept him quiet while the conflagration was
going forward.
But no sooner did Hercules begin to be scorched, than
up he started, with his hair in a red blaze.
"What's all this?" he cried, bewildered with sleep, and
staring about him as if he expected to see another Giant.
At that moment the twenty thousand archers twanged
their bowstrings, and the arrows came whizzing, like so
many winged mosquitoes, right into the face of Hercules.
But I doubt whether more than half a dozen of them punc-
tured the skin, which was remarkably tough, as you know
the skin of a hero has good need to be.
"Villain!" shouted all the Pygmies at once. "You have
killed the Giant Antaeus, our great brother, and the ally of
our nation. We declare bloody war against you, and will
slay you on the spot."
Surprised at the shrill piping of so many little voices,
Hercules, after putting out the conflagration of his hair,
gazed all round about, but could see nothing. At last,
however, looking narrowly on the ground, he espied the
innumerable assemblage of Pygmies at his feet. He
stooped down, and taking up the nearest one between his
thumb and finger, set him on the palm of his left hand,
70
and held him at a proper distance for examination. It
chanced to be the very identical Pygmy who had spoken
from the top of the toadstool, and had offered himself as
a champion to meet Hercules in single combat.
"What in the world, my little fellow," ejaculated Hercules,
"may you be?"
"I am your enemy," answered the valiant Pygmy, in his
mightiest squeak. "You have slain the enormous Antaeus,
our brother by the mother's side, and for ages the faithful
ally of our illustrious nation. We are determined to put
you to death; and for my own part, I challenge you to
instant battle, on equal ground."
Hercules was so tickled with the Pygmy's big words and
warlike gestures, that he burst into a great explosion of
laughter, and almost dropped the poor little mite of a
creature off the palm of his hand, through the ecstasy and
convulsion of his merriment.
"Upon my word," cried he, "I thought I had seen wonders
before to-day hydras with nine heads, stags with golden
horns, six-legged men, three-headed dogs, giants with fur-
naces in their stomachs, and nobody knows what besides.
But here, on the palm of my hand, stands a wonder that
outdoes them all! Your body, my little friend, is about
the size of an ordinary man's finger. Pray, how big may
your soul be?"
"As big as your own !" said the Pygmy.
9099. 099999
Hercules was touched with the little man's dauntless
courage, and could not help acknowledging such a brother-
hood with him as one hero feels for another.
"My good little people," said he, making a low obeisance
to the grand nation, "not for all the world would I do an
intentional injury to such brave fellows as you! Your
hearts seem to me so exceedingly great, that, upon my honor,
I marvel how your small bodies can contain them. I sue
for peace, and, as a condition of it, will take five strides, and
be out of your kingdom at the sixth. Good-by. I shall
pick my steps carefully, for fear of treading upon some fifty
of you, without knowing it. Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho!
For once, Hercules acknowledges himself vanquished."
Some writers say, that Hercules gathered up the whole
race of Pygmies in his lion's skin, and carried them home
to Greece, for the children of King Eurystheus to play with.
But this is a mistake. He left them, one and all, within
their own territory, where, for aught I can tell, their descend-
ants are alive to the present day, building their little houses,
cultivating their little fields, spanking their little children,
waging their little warfare with the cranes, doing their
little business, whatever it may be, and reading their little
histories of ancient times. In those histories, perhaps, it
stands recorded, that, a great many centuries ago, the val-
iant Pygmies avenged the death of the Giant Antaeus by
scaring away the mighty Hercules.
72
'Che
DRAGON'S TEETH
THE DRAGON'S TEETH
CADMUS, Phoenix, and Cilix, the three sons of
King Agenor, and their little sister Europa, (who
was a very beautiful child,) were at play together,
near the sea shore, in their father's kingdom of Phoenicia.
They had rambled to some distance from the palace where
their parents dwelt, and were now in a verdant meadow,
on one side of which lay the sea, all sparkling and dimpling
in the sunshine, and murmuring gently against the beach.
The three boys were very happy, gathering flowers, and
twining them into garlands, with which they adorned the
little Europa. Seated on the grass, the child was almost
hidden under an abundance of buds and blossoms, whence
her rosy face peeped merrily out, and, as Cadmus said, was
the prettiest of all the flowers.
Just then, there came a splendid butterfly, fluttering along
II
II
II
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73
the meadow; and Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix set off in
pursuit of it crying out that it was a flower with wings.
Europa, who was a little wearied with playing all day long,
did not chase the butterfly with her brothers, but sat still
where they had left her, and closed her eyes. For a while,
she listened to the pleasant murmur of the sea, which was
like a voice saying "Hush!" and bidding her go to sleep.
But the pretty child, if she slept at all, could not have slept
more than a moment, when she heard something trample on
the grass, not far from her, and peeping out from the heap of
flowers, beheld a snow-white bull.
And whence could this bull have come? Europa and
her brothers had been a long time playing in the meadow,
and had seen no cattle, nor other living thing, either there
or on the neighboring hills.
"Brother Cadmus!" cried Europa, starting up out of the
midst of the roses and lilies. "Phoenix! Cilix! Where are
you all? Help ! Help ! Come and drive away this bull !"
But her brothers were too far off to hear; especially as
the fright took away Europa's voice, and hindered her from
calling very loudly. So there she stood, with her pretty
mouth wide open, as pale as the white lilies that were twisted
among the other flowers in her garlands.
Nevertheless, it was the suddenness with which she had
perceived the bull, rather than anything frightful in his
appearance, that caused Europa so much alarm. On look-
74
II
ing at him more attentively, she began to see that he was
a beautiful animal, and even fancied a particularly amiable
expression in his face. As for his breath, the breath of
cattle, you know, is always sweet, it was as fragrant as if
he had been grazing on no other food than rosebuds, or,
at least, the most delicate of clover blossoms. Never before
did a bull have such bright and tender eyes, and such smooth
horns of ivory, as this one. And the bull ran little races,
and capered sportively around the child; so that she quite
forgot how big and strong he was, and, from the gentleness
and playfulness of his actions, soon came to consider him
as innocent a creature as a pet lamb.
Thus, frightened as she at first was, you might by and by
have seen Europa stroking the bull's forehead with her
small white hand, and taking the garlands off her own head
to hang them on his neck and ivory horns. Then she pulled
up some blades of grass, and he ate them out of her hand,
not as if he were hungry, but because he wanted to be friends
with the child, and took pleasure in eating what she had
touched. Well, my stars! was there ever such a gentle,
sweet, pretty, and amiable creature as this bull, and ever
such a nice playmate for a little girl?
When the animal saw, (for the bull had so much intelli-
gence that it is really wonderful to think of,) when he saw
that Europa was no longer afraid of him, he grew over-
joyed, and could hardly contain himself for delight. He
fa.
>..*
75
frisked about the meadow, now here, now there, making
sprightly leaps, with as little effort as a bird expends in
hopping from twig to twig. Indeed, his motion was as
light as if he were flying through the air, and his hoofs
seemed hardly to leave their print in the grassy soil over
which he trod. With his spotless hue he resembled a snow
drift, wafted along by the wind. Once he galloped so far
away that Europa feared lest she might never see him again ;
so, setting up her childish voice, she called him back.
"Come back, pretty creature!" she cried. "Here is a
nice clover blossom."
And then it was delightful to witness the gratitude of
this amiable bull, and how he was so full of joy and thank-
fulness that he capered higher than ever. He came run-
ning, and bowed his head before Europa, as if he knew
her to be a king's daughter, or else recognized the impor-
tant truth that a little girl is everybody's queen. And not
only did the bull bend his neck, he absolutely knelt down
at her feet, and made such intelligent nods, and other invit-
ing gestures, that Europa understood what he meant just as
well as if he had put it in so many words.
"Come, dear child," was what he wanted to say, "let me
give you a ride on my back."
At the first thought of such a thing, Europa drew back.
But then she considered in her wise little head that there
could be no possible harm in taking just one gallop on the
back of this docile and friendly animal, who would certainly
set her down the very instant she desired it. And how it
would surprise her brothers to see her riding across the green
meadow! And what merry times they might have, either
taking turns for a gallop, or clambering on the gentle crea-
ture, all four children together, and careering round the
field with shouts of laughter that would be heard as far off as
King Agenor's palace!
"I think I will do it," said the child to herself.
And, indeed, why not? She cast a glance around, and
caught a glimpse of Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, who were
still in pursuit of the butterfly, almost at the other end of the
meadow. It would be the quickest way of rejoining them,
to get upon the white bull's back. She came a step nearer to
him therefore; and sociable creature that he was he
showed so much joy at this mark of her confidence, that the
child could not find in her heart to hesitate any longer.
Making one bound, (for this little princess was as active as
a squirrel,) there sat Europa on the beautiful bull, holding
an ivory horn in each hand, lest she should fall off.
"Softly, pretty bull, softly!" she said, rather frightened at
what she had done. "Do not gallop too fast."
Having got the child on his back, the animal gave a leap
into the air, and came down so like a feather that Europa did
not know when his hoofs touched the ground. He then
began a race to that part of the flowery plain where her three
77
brothers were, and where they had just caught their splendid
butterfly. Europa screamed with delight; and Phoenix,
Cilix, and Cadmus stood gaping at the spectacle of their
sister mounted on a white bull, not knowing whether to be
frightened or to wish the same good luck for themselves.
The gentle and innocent- creature (for who could possibly
doubt that he was so?) pranced round among the children
as sportively as a kitten. Europa all the while looked down
upon her brothers, nodding and laughing, but yet with a sort
of stateliness in her rosy little face. As the bull wheeled
about to take another gallop across the meadow, the child
waved her hand, and said, "Good by," playfully pretending
that she was now bound on a distant journey, and might not
see her brothers again for nobody could tell how long.
"Good by," shouted Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, all in one
breath.
But, together with her enjoyment of the sport, there was
still a little remnant of fear in the child's heart; so that her
last look at the three boys was a troubled one, and made them
feel as if their dear sister were really leaving them forever.
And what do you think the snowy bull did next? Why, he
set off, as swift as the wind, straight down to the sea shore,
scampered across the sand, took an airy leap, and plunged
right in among the foaming billows. The white spray rose
in a shower over him and little Europa, and fell spattering
down upon the water.
Then what a scream of terror did the poor child send
forth! The three brothers screamed manfully likewise,
and ran to the shore as fast as their legs would carry them,
with Cadmus at their head. But it was too late. When they
reached the margin of the sand, the treacherous animal was
already far away in the wide blue sea, with only his snowy
head and tail emerging, and poor little Europa between
them, stretching out one hand towards her dear brothers,
while she grasped the bull's ivory horn with the other. And
there stood Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, gazing at this sad
spectacle, through their tears, until they could no longer
distinguish the bull's snowy head from the white-capped
billows that seemed to boil up out of the sea's depths around
him. Nothing more was ever seen of the white bull-
nothing more of the beautiful child.
This was a mournful story, as you may well think, for the
three boys to carry home to their parents. King Agenor,
their father, was the ruler of the whole country; but he loved
his little daughter Europa better than his kingdom, or than
all his other children, or than anything else in the world.
Therefore, when Cadmus and his two brothers came crying
home, and told him how that a white bull had carried off
their sister, and swam with her over the sea, the king was
quite beside himself with grief and rage. Although it was
now twilight, and fast growing dark, he bade them set out
instantly in search of her.
79
ffff'plflflflfffffff
"Never shall you see my face again," he cried, "unless you
bring me back my little Europa, to gladden me with her
smiles and her pretty ways. Begone, and enter my presence
no more, till you come leading her by the hand."
As King Agenor said this, his eyes flashed fire, (for he
was a very passionate king,) and he looked so terribly angry
that the poor boys did not even venture to ask for their sup-
pers, but slunk away out of the palace, and only paused on
the steps a moment to consult whither they should go first.
While they were standing there, all in dismay, their mother,
Queen Telephassa, (who happened not to be by when they
told the story to the king,) came hurrying after them, and
said that she too would go in quest of her daughter.
"O, no, mother !" cried the boys. "The night is dark, and
there is no knowing what troubles and perils we may meet
with."
"Alas! my dear children," answered poor Queen
Telephassa, weeping bitterly, "that is only another reason
why I should go with you. If I should lose you, too, as well
as my little Europa, what would become of me !"
"And let me go likewise!" said their playfellow Thasus,
who came running to join them.
Thasus was the son of a seafaring person in the neighbor-
hood; he had been brought up with the young princes, and
was their intimate friend, and loved Europa very much; so
80
ft
they consented that he should accompany them. The whole
party, therefore, set forth together. Cadmus, Phoenix, Cilix,
and Thasus clustered round Queen Telephassa, grasping her
"Alas! My dear children," answered poor Queen Telephassa.
skirts, and begging her to lean upon their shoulders, when-
ever she felt weary. In this manner they went down the
palace steps, and began a journey, which turned out to be a
great deal longer than they dreamed of. The last that they
saw of King Agenor, he came to the door, with a servant
holding a torch beside him, and called after them into the
gathering darkness :
"Remember ! Never ascend these steps again without the
child!"
"Never!" sobbed Queen Telephassa; and the three
brothers and Thasus answered, "Never! Never! Never!
Never!"
And they kept their word. Year after year King
Agenor sat in the solitude of his beautiful palace, listening
in vain for their returning footsteps, hoping to hear the
familiar voice of the queen, and the cheerful talk of his sons
and their playfellow Thasus, entering the door together,
and the sweet, childish accents of little Europa in the midst
of them. But so long a time went by, that, at last, if they
had really come, the king would not have known that this
was the voice of Telephassa, and these the younger voices
that used to make such joyful echoes, when the children
were playing about the palace. We must now leave King
Agenor to sit on his throne, and must go along with Queen
Telephassa and her four youthful companions.
They went on and on, and travelled a long way, and
passed over mountains and rivers, and sailed over seas.
Here, and there, and everywhere, they made continual in-
quiry if any person could tell them what had become of
82
Europa : The rustic people, of whom they asked this ques-
tion, paused a little while from their labors in the field,
and looked very much surprised. They thought it strange
to behold a woman in the garb of a queen, (for Telephassa,
in her haste, had forgotten to take off her crown and her
royal robes,) roaming about the country, with four lads
around her, on such an errand as this seemed to be. But
nobody could give them any tidings of Europa; nobody
had seen a little girl dressed like a princess, and mounted
on a snow-white bull, which galloped as swiftly as the wind.
I cannot tell you how long Queen Telephassa, and Cad-
mus, Phoenix, and Cilix, her three sons, and Thasus, their
playfellow, went wandering along the highways and by-
paths, or through the pathless wildernesses of the earth,
in this manner. But certain it is, that, before they reached
any place of rest, their splendid garments were quite worn
out. They all looked very much travel-stained, and would
have had the dust of many countries on their shoes, if the
streams, through which they waded, had not washed it all
away. When they had been gone a year, Telephassa threw
away her crown, because it chafed her forehead.
"It has given me many a headache," said the poor queen,
"and it cannot cure my heartache."
As fast as their princely robes got torn and tattered, they
exchanged them for such mean attire as ordinary people
wore. By and by, they came to have a wild and homeless
aspect; so that you would much sooner have taken them
for a gypsy family than a queen and three princes, and a
young nobleman, who had once a palace for their home, and
a train of servants to do their bidding. The four boys grew
up to be tall young men, with sunburnt faces. Each of
them girded on a sword, to defend themselves against the
perils of the way. When the husbandmen, at whose farm
houses they sought hospitality, needed their assistance in
the harvest field, they gave it willingly; and Queen Tele-
phassa (who had done no work in her palace, save to braid
silk threads with golden ones) came behind them to bind
the sheaves. If payment was offered, they shook their heads,
and only asked for tidings of Europa.
"There are bulls enough in my pasture," the old farmers
would reply; "but I never heard of one like this you tell
me of. A snow-white bull with a little princess on his back !
Ho! ho! I ask your pardon, good folks; but there never
was such a sight seen hereabouts."
At last, when his upper lip began to have the down on
it, Phoenix grew weary of rambling hither and thither to
no purpose. So, one day, when they happened to be passing
through a pleasant and solitary tract of country, he sat him-
self down on a heap of moss.
"I can go no farther," said Phoenix. "It is a mere foolish
waste of life, to spend it, as we do, in always wandering up
and down, and never coming to any home at nightfall.
Our sister is lost, and never will be found. She probably
perished in the sea; or, to whatever shore the white bull
may have carried her, it is now so many years ago, that there
would be neither love nor acquaintance between us, should
we meet again. My father has forbidden us to return to
his palace; so I shall build me a hut of branches, and dwell
here."
"Well, son Phoenix," said Telephassa, sorrowfully, "you
have grown to be a man, and must do as you judge best.
But, for my part, I will still go in quest of my poor child."
"And we three will go along with you !" cried Cadmus
and Cilix, and their faithful friend Thasus.
But, before setting out, they all helped Phoenix to build
a habitation. When completed, it was a sweet rural bower,
roofed overhead with an arch of living boughs. Inside
there were two pleasant rooms, one of which had a soft
heap of moss for a bed, while the other was furnished with
a rustic seat or two, curiously fashioned out of the crooked
roots of trees. So comfortable and home-like did it seem,
that Telephassa and her three companions could not help
sighing, to think that they must still roam about the world,
instead of spending the remainder of their lives in some
such cheerful abode as they had here built for Phoenix. But,
when they bade him farewell, Phoenix shed tears, and prob-
ably regretted that he was no longer to keep them company.
However, he had fixed upon an admirable place to dwell
in. And by and by there came other people, who chanced
to have no homes ; and, seeing how pleasant a spot it was,
they built themselves huts in the neighborhood of Phoenix's
habitation. Thus, before many years went by, a city had
grown up there, in the center of which was seen a stately
palace of marble, wherein dwelt Phoenix, clothed in a purple
robe, and wearing a golden crown upon his head. For the
inhabitants of the new city, finding that he had royal blood
in his veins, had chosen him to be their king. The very
first decree of state which King Phoenix issued was, that,
if a maiden happened to arrive in the kingdom, mounted
on a snow-white bull, and calling herself Europa,
his subjects should treat her with the greatest kindness and
respect, and immediately bring her to the palace. You
may see by this, that Phoenix's conscience never quite ceased
to trouble him, for giving up the quest of his dear sister,
and sitting himself down to be comfortable, while his mother
and her companions went onward.
But often and often, at the close of a weary day's journey,
did Telephassa and Cadmus, Cilix and Thasus, remember
the pleasant spot in which they had left Phoenix. It was
a sorrowful prospect for these wanderers, that on the mor-
row they must again set forth, and that, after many night-
falls, they would perhaps be no nearer the close of their
toilsome pilgrimage than now. These thoughts made
them all melancholy at times, but appeared to torment Cilix
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86
more than the rest of the party. At length, one morning,
when they were taking their staffs in hand to set out, he thus
addressed them :
"My dear mother, and you good brother Cadmus, and my
friend Thasus, methinks we are like people in a dream.
There is no substance in the life which we are leading. It
is such a dreary length of time since the white bull carried
off my sister Europa, that I have quite forgotten how she
looked, and the tones of her voice, and, indeed, almost doubt
whether such a little girl ever lived in the world. And
whether she once lived or no, I am convinced that she no
longer survives, and that therefore it is the merest folly to
waste our own lives and happiness in seeking her. Were we
to find her, she would now be a woman grown, and would
look upon us all as strangers. So, to tell you the truth, I
have resolved to take up my abode here; and I entreat you,
mother, brother, and friend, to follow my example."
"Not I, for one," said Telephassa; although the poor
queen, firmly as she spoke, was so travel-worn that she could
hardly put her foot to the ground. "Not I for one! In
the depths of my heart, little Europa is still the rosy child
who ran to gather flowers so many years ago. She has
not grown to womanhood, nor forgotten me. At noon, at
night, journeying onward, sitting down to rest, her childish
voice is always in my ears, calling 'Mother ! mother !' Stop
here who may, there is no repose for me."
"Nor for me," said Cadmus, "while my dear mother
pleases to go onward."
And the faithful Thasus, too, was resolved to bear them
company. They remained with Cilix a few days, however,
and helped him to build a rustic bower, resembling the one
which they had formerly built for Phoenix.
When they were bidding him farewell, Cilix burst into
tears, and told his mother that it seemed just as melancholy
a dream to stay there, in solitude, as to go onward. If she
really believed that they would ever find Europa, he was
willing to continue the search with them, even now. But
Telephassa bade him remain there, and be happy, if his own
heart would let him. So the pilgrims took their leave of
him, and departed, and were hardly out of sight before some
other wandering people came along that way, and saw
Cilix's habitation, and were greatly delighted with the
appearance of the place. There being abundance of unoc-
cupied ground in the neighborhood, these strangers built
huts for themselves, and were soon joined by a multitude
of new settlers, who quickly formed a city. In the middle
of it was seen a magnificent palace of colored marble, on the
balcony of which, every noontide, appeared Cilix, in a long
purple robe, and with a jeweled crown upon his head; for
the inhabitants, when they found out that he was a king's
son, had considered him the fittest of all men to be a king
himself.
One of the first acts of King Cilix's government was to
send out an expedition, consisting of a grave ambassador
and an escort of bold and hardy young men, with orders
to visit the principal kingdoms of the earth, and inquire
whether a young maiden had passed through those regions,
galloping swiftly on a white bull. It is, therefore, plain to
my mind, that Cilix secretly blamed himself for giving up
the search for Europa, as long as he was able to put one
foot before the other.
As for Telephassa, and Cadmus, and the good Thasus,
it grieves me to think of them, still keeping up that weary
pilgrimage. The two young men did their best for the poor
queen, helping her over the rough places, often carrying
her across rivulets in their faithful arms, and seeking to
shelter her at nightfall, even when they themselves lay on
the ground. Sad, sad it was to hear them asking of every
passer-by if he had seen Europa, so long after the white bull
had carried her away. But, though the gray years thrust
themselves between, and made the child's figure dim in their
remembrance, neither of these true-hearted three ever
dreamed of giving up the search.
One morning, however, poor Thasus found that he had
sprained his ankle, and could not possibly go a step farther.
"After a few days, to be sure," said he, mournfully, "I
might make a shift to hobble along with a stick. But that
would only delay you, and perhaps hinder you from finding
|| || || II II II II II II II
dear little Europa, after all your pains and trouble. Do
you go forward, therefore, my beloved companions, and
leave me to follow as I may."
"Thou hast been a true friend, dear Thasus," said Queen
Telephassa, kissing his forehead. "Being neither my son,
nor the brother of our lost Europa, thou hast shown thyself
truer to me and her than Phoenix and Cilix did, whom we
have left behind us. Without thy loving help, and that
of my son Cadmus, my limbs could not have borne me half
so far as this. Now, take thy rest, and be at peace. For
and it is the first time I have owned it to myself I begin to
question whether we shall ever find my beloved daughter
in this world."
Saying this, the poor queen shed tears, because it was
a grievous trial to the mother's heart to confess that her hopes
were growing faint. From that day forward, Cadmus
noticed that she never travelled with the same alacrity of
spirit that had heretofore supported her. Her weight was
heavier upon his arm.
Before setting out, Cadmus helped Thasus build a bower;
while Telephassa, being too infirm to give any great assis-
tance, advised them how to fit it up and furnish it, so that it
might be as comfortable as a hut of branches could. Tha-
sus, however/did not spend all his days in this green bower.
For it happened to him, as to Phoenix and Cilix, that other
homeless people visited the spot and liked it, and built them-
90
selves habitations in the neighborhood. So here, in the
course of a few years, was another thriving city, with a
red freestone palace in the center of it, where Thasus sat
upon a throne, doing justice to the people, with a purple
robe over his shoulders, a scepter in his hand, and a crown
upon his head. The inhabitants had made him king, not
for the sake of any royal blood, (for none was in his veins,)
but because Thasus was an upright, true-hearted, and coura-
geous man, and therefore fit to rule.
But, when the affairs of his kingdom were all settled, King
Thasus laid aside his purple robe, and crown, and scepter,
and bade his worthiest subject distribute justice to the people
in his stead. Then, grasping the pilgrim's staff that had
supported him so long, he set forth again, hoping still to
discover some hoof mark of the snow-white bull, some trace
of the vanished child. He returned, after a lengthened
absence, and sat down wearily upon his throne. To his
latest hour, nevertheless, King Thasus showed his true-
hearted remembrance of Europa, by ordering that a fire
should always be kept burning in his palace, and a bath
steaming hot, and food ready to be served up, and a bed
with snow white sheets, in case the maiden should arrive,
and require immediate refreshment. And though Europa
never came, the good Thasus had the blessings of many
a poor traveller, who profited by the food and lodging which
were meant for the little playmate of the king's boyhood.
Telephassa and Cadmus were now pursuing their weary
way, with no companion but each other. The queen leaned
heavily upon her son's arm, and could walk only a few miles
a day. But for all her weakness and weariness, she would
not be persuaded to give up the search. It was enough to
bring tears into the eyes of bearded men to hear the melan-
choly tone with which she inquired of every stranger
whether he could tell her any news of the lost child.
"Have you seen a little girl no, no, I mean a young
maiden of full growth passing by this way, mounted on
a snow-white bull, which gallops as swiftly as the wind?"
"We have seen no such wonderous sight," the people
would reply; and very often, taking Cadmus aside, they
whispered to him, "Is this stately and sad-looking woman
your mother? Surely she is not in her right mind; and you
ought to take her home, and make her comfortable, and do
your best to get this dream out of her fancy."
"It is no dream," said Cadmus. "Everything else is a
dream, save that."
But, one day, Telephassa seemed feebler than usual, and
leaned almost her whole weight on the arm of Cadmus, and
walked more slowly than ever before. At last they reached
a solitary spot, where she told her son that she must needs
lie down, and take a good, long rest.
"A good, long rest!" she repeated, looking Cadmus
tenderly in the face. "A good, long rest, thou dearest one !"
92
"As long as you please, dear mother," answered Cadmus.
Telephassa bade him sit down on the turf beside her, and
then she took his hand.
"My son," said she, fixing her dim eyes most lovingly
upon him, "this rest that I speak of will be very long indeed!
You must not wait till it is finished. Dear Cadmus, you
do not comprehend me. You must make a grave here, and
lay your mother's weary frame into it. My pilgrimage is
over."
Cadmus burst into tears, and, for a long time, refused
to believe that his dear mother was now to be taken from
him. But Telephassa reasoned with him, and kissed him,
and at length made him discern that it was better for her
spirit to pass away out of the toil, the weariness, the grief,
and disappointment which had burdened her on earth, ever
since the child was lost. He therefore repressed his sorrow,
and listened to her last words.
"Dearest Cadmus," said she, "thou hast been the truest
son that ever mother had, and faithful to the very last.
Who else would have borne with my infirmities as thou hast !
It is owing to thy care, thou tenderest child, that my grave
was not dug long years ago, in some valley or on some
hillside that lies far, far behind us. It is enough. Thou
shall wander no more on this hopeless search. But, when
thou hast laid thy mother in the earth, then go, my son, to
Delphi, and inquire of the oracle what thou shalt do next."
93
II
"O mother, mother," cried Cadmus, "couldst thou but
have seen my sister before this hour !"
"It matters little now," answered Telephassa, and there
was a smile upon her face. "I go now to the better world,
and, sooner or later, shall find my daughter there."
I will not sadden you, my little hearers, with telling how
Telephassa died and was buried, but will only say, that her
dying smile grew brighter, instead of vanishing from her
dead face ; so that Cadmus felt convinced that, at her very
first step into the better world, she had caught Europa in her
arms. He planted some flowers on his mother's grave, and
left them to grow there, and make the place beautiful, when
he should be far away.
After performing this last sorrowful duty, he set forth
alone, and took the road towards the famous oracle of
Delphi, as Telephassa had advised him. On his way thither,
he still inquired of most people whom he met whether they
had seen Europa; for, to say the truth, Cadmus had grown
so accustomed to ask the question, that it came to his lips
as readily as a remark about the weather. He received
various answers. Some told him one thing and some an-
other. Among the rest, a mariner affirmed, that, many
years before, in a distant country, he had heard a rumor
about a white bull, which came swimming across the sea
with a child on his back, dressed up in flowers that were
blighted by the sea water. He did not know what had
OXV, jf^,
w - If if
94
become of the child or the bull; and Cadmus suspected in-
deed, by a queer twinkle in the mariner's eyes, that he was
putting a joke upon him, and had never really heard any-
thing about the matter.
Poor Cadmus found it more wearisome to travel alone
than to bear all his dear mother's weight, while she had
kept him company. His heart, you will understand, was
now so heavy that it seemed impossible, sometimes, to carry
it any farther. But his limbs were strong and active and
well accustomed to exercise. He walked swiftly along,
thinking of King Agenor and Queen Telephassa, and his
brothers, and the friendly Thasus, all of whom he had left
behind him, at one point of his pilgrimage or another, and
never expected to see them any more. Full of these remem-
brances, he came within sight of a lofty mountain, which the
people thereabouts told him was called Parnassus. On the
slope of Mount Parnassus was the famous Delphi, whither
Cadmus was going.
This Delphi was supposed to be the very mid-most spot
of the whole world. The place of the oracle was a certain
cavity in the mountain side, over which, when Cadmus came
thither, he found a rude bower of branches. It reminded
him of those which he had helped to build for Phoenix and
Cilix, and afterwards for Thasus. In later times, when
multitudes of people came from great distances to put ques-
tions to the oracle, a spacious temple of marble was erected
95
over the spot. But in the days of Cadmus, as I have told
you, there was only this rustic bower, with its abundance
of green foliage, and a tuft of shrubbery, that ran wild over
the mysterious hole in the hillside.
When Cadmus had thrust a passage through the tangled
boughs, and made his way into the bower, he did not at first
discern the half-hidden cavity. But soon he felt a cold
stream of air rushing out of it, with so much force that it
shook the ringlets on his cheek. Pulling away the shrub-
bery which clustered over the hole, he bent forward, and
spoke in a distinct but reverential tone, as if addressing
some unseen personage inside of the mountain.
"Sacred oracle of Delphi," said he, "whither shall I go
next in quest of my dear sister Europa?"
There was at first a deep silence, and then a rushing
sound, or a noise like a long sigh proceeding out of the
interior of the earth. This cavity, you must know, was
looked upon as a sort of fountain of truth, which sometimes
gushed out in audible words; although, for the most part,
these words were such a riddle that they might just as well
have staid at the bottom of the hole. But Cadmus was more
fortunate than many others who went to Delphi in search of
truth. By and by the rushing noise began to sound like
articulate language. It repeated, over and over again, the
following sentence, which, after all, was so like the vague
96
II
II
"Sacred oracle of Delphi, whither shall I go?"
whistle of a blast of air, that Cadmus really did not quite
know whether it meant anything or not :
"Seek her no more! Seek her no more! Seek her no
more!"
"What, then, shall I do?" asked Cadmus.
For, ever since he was a child, you know, it had been the
great object of his life to find his sister. From the very hour
97
that he left following the butterfly in the meadow, near his
father's palace, he had done his best to follow Europa, over
land and sea. And now, if he must give up the search, he
seemed to have no more business in the world.
But again the sighing gust of air grew into something
like a hoarse voice.
"Follow the cow!" it said. "Follow the cow! Follow
the cow!"
And when these words had been repeated until Cadmus
was tired of hearing them, (especially as he could not
imagine what cow it was, or why he was to follow her,) the
gusty hole gave vent to another sentence.
"Where the stray cow lies down, there is your home."
These words were pronounced but a single time, and
died away into a whisper before Cadmus was fully satisfied
that he had caught the meaning. He put other questions,
but received no answer; only the gust of wind sighed con-
tinually out of the cavity, and blew the withered leaves
rustling along the ground before it.
"Did there really come any words out of the hole?"
thought Cadmus; "or have I been dreaming all this while?"
He turned away from the oracle, and thought himself
no wiser than when he came thither. Caring little what
might happen to him, he took the first path that offered
itself, and went along at a sluggish pace; for, having no
object in view, nor any reason to go one way more than
another, it would certainly have been foolish to make haste.
Whenever he met anybody, the old question was at his
tongue's end:
"Have you seen a beautiful maiden, dressed like a king's
daughter, and mounted on a snow-white bull, that gallops
as swiftly as the wind?"
But, remembering what the oracle had said, he only half
uttered the words, and then mumbled the rest indistinctly;
and from his confusion, people must have imagined that
this handsome young man had lost his wits.
I know not how far Cadmus had gone, nor could he
himself have told you, when, at no great distance before him,
he beheld a brindled cow. She was lying down by the way-
side, and quietly chewing her cud; nor did she take any
notice of the young man until he had approached pretty
nigh. Then, getting leisurely upon her feet, and giving her
head a gentle toss, she began to move along at a moderate
pace, often pausing just long enough to crop a mouthful
of grass. Cadmus loitered behind, whistling idly to himself,
and scarcely noticing the cow; until the thought occurred
to him, whether this could possibly be the animal which,
according to the oracle's response, was to serve him for a
guide. But he smiled at himself for fancying such a thing.
He could not seriously think that this was the cow, because
she went along so quietly, behaving just like any other cow.
Evidently she neither knew nor cared so much as a wisp of
99
hay about Cadmus, and was only thinking how to get her
living along the wayside, where the herbage was green and
fresh. Perhaps she was going home to be milked.
"Cow, cow, cow!" cried Cadmus. "Hey brindle, hey!
Stop, my good cow."
He wanted to come up with the cow, so as to examine
her, and see if she would appear to know him, or whether
there were any peculiarities to distinguish her from a thou-
sand other cows, whose only business is to fill the milk pail,
and sometimes kick it over. But still the brindle cow
trudged on, whisking her tail to keep the flies away, and tak-
ing as little notice of Cadmus as she well could. If he
walked slowly, so did the cow, and seized the opportunity to
graze. If he quickened his pace, the cow went just so much
the faster; and once, when Cadmus tried to catch her by
running, she threw out her heels, stuck her tail straight on
end, and set off at a gallop, looking as queerly as COW T S gener-
ally do, while putting themselves to their speed.
When Cadmus saw that it was impossible to come up
with her, he walked on moderately, as before. The cow,
too, went leisurely on, without looking behind. Wherever
the grass was greenest, there she nibbled a mouthful or two.
Where a brook glistened brightly across the path, there the
cow drank, and breathed a comfortable sigh, and drank
again, and trudged onward at the pace that best suited her-
self and Cadmus.
100
"I do believe," thought Cadmus, "that this may be the cow
that was foretold me. If it be the one, I suppose she will
lie down somewhere hereabouts."
Whether it were the oracular cow or some other one, it
did not seem reasonable that she should travel a great way
farther. So, whenever they reached a particularly pleasant
spot on a breezy hillside, or in a sheltered vale, or flowery
meadow, on the shore of a calm lake, or along the bank of
a clear stream, Cadmus looked eagerly around to see if the
situation would suit him for a home. But still, whether he
liked the place or no, the brindled cow never offered to lie
down. On she went at the quiet pace of a cow going home-
ward to the barn yard ; and, every moment, Cadmus expected
to see a milkmaid approaching with a pail, or a herdsman
running to head the stray animal, and turn her back towards
the pasture. But no milkmaid came; no herdsman drove
her back ; and Cadmus followed the stray Brindle till he was
almost ready to drop down with fatigue.
"O, brindled cow," cried he, in a tone of despair, "do you
never mean to stop?"
He had now grown too intent on following her to think
of lagging behind, however long the way, and whatever
might be his fatigue. Indeed, it seemed as if there were
something about the animal that bewitched people. Sev-
eral persons who happened to see the brindled cow and Cad-
mus following behind, began to trudge after her, precisely
101
as he did. Cadmus was glad of somebody to converse with,
and therefore talked very freely to these good people. He
told them all his adventures, and how he had left King
Agenor in his palace, and Phoenix at one place, and Cilix
at another and Thasus at a third, and his dear mother, Queen
Telephassa, under a flowery sod; so that now he was quite
alone, both friendless and homeless. He mentioned, like-
wise, that the oracle had bidden him be guided by a cow, and
inquired of the strangers whether they supposed that this
brindled animal could be the one.
"Why, 'tis a very wonderful affair," answered one of his
new companions. "I am pretty well acquainted with the
ways of cattle, and I never knew a cow, of her own accord,
to go so far without stopping. If my legs will let me, I'll
never leave following the beast till she lies down."
"Nor I !" said a second.
"Nor I!" cried a third. "If she goes a hundred miles
farther, I'm determined to see the end of it."
The secret of it was, you must know, that the cow was
an enchanted cow, and that, without their being conscious
of it, she threw some of her enchantment over everybody
that took so much as half a dozen steps behind her. They
could not possibly help following her, though, all the time,
they fancied themselves doing it of their own accord. The
cow was by no means very nice in choosing her path; so
that sometimes they had to scramble over rocks, or wade
102
through mud and mire, and were all in a terribly bedrag-
gled condition, and tired to death, and very hungry, into
the bargain. What a weary business it was !
But still they kept trudging stoutly forward, and talking
as they went. The strangers grew very fond of Cadmus,
and resolved never to leave him, but to help him build a
city wherever the cow might lie down. In the center of
it there should be a noble palace, in which Cadmus might
dwell, and be their king, with a throne, a crown, and scepter,
a purple robe, and everything else that a king ought to have;
for in him there was the royal blood, and the royal heart,
and the head that knew how to rule.
While they were talking of these schemes and beguiling
the tediousness of the way with laying out the plan of the
new city, one of the company happened to look at the cow.
"Joy! joy!" cried he, clapping his hands. "Brindle is
going to lie down."
They all looked; and, sure enough, the cow had stopped
and was staring leisurely about her, as other cows do when
on the point of lying down. And slowly, slowly did she
recline herself on the soft grass, first bending her fore legs,
and then crouching her hind ones. When Cadmus and his
companions came up with her, there was the brindled cow
taking her ease, chewing her cud, and looking them quietly
in the face; as if this was just the spot she had been seeking
for, and as if it were all a matter of course.
ffffffftffflflffffft
103
"This, then," said Cadmus, gazing around him, "this is to
be my home."
It was a fertile and lovely plain, with great trees flinging
their sun-speckled shadows over it, and hills fencing it in
from the rough weather. At no great distance, they beheld
a river gleaming in the sunshine. A home feeling stole into
the heart of poor Cadmus. He was very glad to know that
here he might awake in the morning, without the necessity
of putting on his dusty sandals to travel farther and farther.
The days and the years would pass over him, and find him
still in this pleasant spot. If he could have had his brothers
with him, and his friend Thasus, and could have seen his
dear mother under a roof of his own, he might here have
been happy, after all their disappointments. Some day or
other, too, his sister Europa might have come quietly to the
door of his home, and smiled round upon the familiar faces.
But, indeed, since there was no hope of regaining the friends
of his boyhood, or ever seeing his dear sister again, Cadmus
resolved to make himself happy with these new companions,
who had grown so fond of him while following the cow.
"Yes, my friends," said he to them, "this is to be our home.
Here we will build our habitations. The brindled cow,
which has led us hither, will supply us with milk. We will
cultivate the neighboring soil, and lead an innocent and
happy life."
His companions joyfully assented to this plan ; and, in the
,
w
104
IS
THIS PITILESS REPTILE HAD KILLED HIS POOR COMPANIONS-
jffK i a I
--
first place, being very hungry and thirsty, they looked about
them for the means of providing a comfortable meal. Not
far off, they saw a tuft of trees, which appeared as if there
might be a spring of water beneath them. They went
thither to fetch some, leaving Cadmus stretched on the
ground along with the brindled cow; for, now that he had
found a place of rest, it seemed as if all the weariness of his
pilgrimage, ever since he left King Agenor's palace, had
fallen upon him at once. But his new friends had not long
been gone, when he was suddenly startled by cries, shouts,
and screams, and the noise of a terrible struggle, and in the
midst of it all, a most awful hissing, which went right
through his ears like a rough saw.
Running towards the tuft of trees, he beheld the head and
fiery eyes of an immense serpent or dragon, with the widest
jaws that ever a dragon had, and a vast many rows of hor-
ribly sharp teeth. Before Cadmus could reach the spot, this
pitiless reptile had killed his poor companions, and was
busily devouring them, making but a mouthful of each man.
It appears that the fountain of water was enchanted, and
that the dragon had been set to guard it, so that no mortal
might ever quench his thirst there. As the neighboring in-
habitants carefully avoided the spot, it was now a long time
(not less than a hundred years, or thereabouts) since the
monster had broken his fast; and, as was natural enough, his
appetite had grown to be enormous, and was not half satis-
105
fled by the poor people whom he had just eaten up. When
he caught sight of Cadmus, therefore, he set up another
abominable hiss, and flung back his immense jaws, until his
mouth looked like a great red cavern, at the farther end of
which were seen the legs of his last victim, whom he had
hardly had time to swallow.
But Cadmus was so enraged at the destruction of his
friends, that he cared neither for the size of the dragon's jaws
nor for his hundreds of sharp teeth. Drawing his sword, he
rushed at the monster, and flung himself right into his cav-
ernous mouth. This bold method of attacking him took the
dragon by surprise; for, in fact, Cadmus had leaped so far
down into his throat, that the rows of terrible teeth could not
close upon him, nor do him the least harm in the world.
Thus, though the struggle was a tremendous one, and
though the dragon shattered the tuft of trees into small
splinters by the lashing of his tail, yet, as Cadmus was all the
while slashing and stabbing at his very vitals, it was not long
before the scaly wretch bethought himself of slipping away.
He had not gone his length, however, when the brave Cad-
mus gave him a sword thrust that finished the battle; and,
creeping out of the gateway of the creature's jaws, there he
beheld him still wriggling his vast bulk, although there was
no longer life enough in him to harm a little child.
But do not you suppose that it made Cadmus sorrowful
to think of the melancholy fate which had befallen those
1 06
poor, friendly people, who had followed the cow along with
him? It seemed as if he were doomed to lose every body
whom he loved, or to see them perish in one way or another.
And here he was, after all his toils and troubles, in a solitary
place, with not a single human being to help him build a hut,
"What shall I do?" cried he aloud. "It were better for
me to have been devoured by the dragon, as my poor com-
panions were."
"Cadmus," said a voice but whether it came from above
or below him, or whether it spoke within his own breast,
the young man could not tell "Cadmus, pluck out the
dragon's teeth, and plant them in the earth."
This was a strange thing to do; nor was it very easy, I
should imagine, to dig out all those deep-rooted fangs from
the dead dragon's jaws. But Cadmus toiled and tugged,
and after pounding the monstrous head almost to pieces
with a great stone, he at last collected as many teeth as might
have filled a bushel or two. The next thing was to plant
them. This, likewise, was a tedious piece of work, espe-
cially as Cadmus was already exhausted with killing the
dragon and knocking 1 his head to pieces, and had nothing
to dig the earth with, that I know of, unless it were his sword
blade. Finally, however, a sufficiently large tract of ground
was turned up, and sown with this new kind of seed; al-
though half of the dragon's teeth still remained to be planted
some other day.
107
Cadmus, quite out of breath, stood leaning upon his
sword, and wondering what was to happen next. He had
waited but a few moments, when he began to see a sight,
which was as great a marvel as the most marvellous thing
I ever told you about.
The sun was shining slantwise over the field, and showed
all the moist, dark soil, just like any other newly-planted
piece of ground. All at once, Cadmus fancied he saw some-
thing glisten very brightly, first at one spot, then another,
and then at a hundred and a thousand spots together. Soon
he perceived them to be the steel heads of spears, sprouting
up everywhere like so many stalks of grain, and continually
growing taller and taller. Next appeared a vast number of
bright sword blades, thrusting themselves up in the same
way. A moment afterwards, the whole surface of the
ground was broken by a multitude of polished brass helmets,
coming up like a crop of enormous beans. So rapidly did
they grow that Cadmus now discerned the fierce counte-
nance of a man beneath every one. In short, before he had
time to think what a wonderful affair it was, he beheld an
abundant harvest of what looked like human beings, armed
with helmets and breastplates, shields, swords, and spears;
and before they were well out of the earth, they brandished
their weapons, and clashed them one against another, seem-
ing to think, little while as they had yet lived, that they had
wasted too much of life without a battle. Every tooth of
1 08
the dragon had produced one of these sons of deadly mis-
chief.
Up sprouted, also, a great many trumpeters, and with
the first breath that they drew, they put their brazen trumpets
to their lips, and sounded a tremendous and ear-shattering
blast; so that the whole space, just now so quiet and solitary,
reverberated with the clash and clang of arms, the bray of
warlike music, and the shouts of angry men. So enraged
did they all look, that Cadmus fully expected them to put
the whole world to the sword. How fortunate would it be
for a great conqueror, if he could get a bushel of the
dragon's teeth to sow!
"Cadmus," said the same voice which he had before heard,
"throw a stone into the midst of the armed men."
So Cadmus seized a large stone, and, flinging it into the
middle of the earth army, saw it strike the breastplate of a
gigantic and fierce-looking warrior. Immediately on feel-
ing the blow, he seemed to take it for granted that somebody
had struck him; and, uplifting his weapon, he smote his
next neighbor a blow that cleft his helmet asunder, and
stretched him on the ground. In an instant, those nearest
the fallen warrior began to strike at one another with their
swords and stab with their spears. The confusion spread
wider and wider. Each man smote down his brother, and
was himself smitten down before he had time to exult in
his victory. The trumpeters, all the while, blew their blasts
109
shriller and shriller; each soldier shouted a battle cry, and
often fell with it on his lips. It was the strangest spectacle
of causeless wrath, and of mischief for no good end, that
had ever been witnessed; but, after all, it was neither more
foolish nor more wicked than a thousand battles that have
since been fought, in which men have slain their brothers
with just as little reason as these children of the dragon's
teeth. It ought to be considered, too, that the dragon people
were made for nothing else ; whereas other mortals were born
to love and help one another.
Well, this memorable battle continued to rage until the
ground was strewn with helmeted heads that had been cut
off. Of all the thousands that began the fight, there were
only five left standing. These now rushed from different
parts of the field, and, meeting in the middle of it clashed
their swords, and struck at each other's hearts as fiercely
as ever.
"Cadmus," said the voice again, "bid those five warriors
sheathe their swords. They will help you to build the city."
Without hesitating an instant, Cadmus stepped forward,
with the aspect of a king and a leader and extending his
drawn sword amongst them, spoke to the warriors in a stern
and commanding voice.
"Sheathe your weapons !" said he.
And forthwith, feeling themselves bound to obey him, the
five remaining sons of the dragon's teeth made him a military
no
salute with their swords, returned them to the scabbards, and
stood before Cadmus in a rank, eyeing him as soldiers eye
their captain, while awaiting the word of command.
These five men had probably sprung from the biggest
of the dragon's teeth, and were the boldest and strongest
of the whole army. They were almost giants indeed, and
had good need to be so, else they never could have lived
through so terrible a fight. They still had a very furious
look, and, if Cadmus happened to glance aside, would glare
at one another, with fire flashing out of their eyes. It was
strange, too, to observe how the earth, out of which they
had so lately grown, was incrusted, here and there, on their
bright breastplates, and even begrimed their faces; just as
you may have seen it clinging to beets and carrots, when
pulled out of their native soil. Cadmus hardly knew
whether to consider them as men, or some odd kind of vege-
table, although, on the whole, he concluded that there was
human nature in them, because they were so fond of trum-
pets and weapons, and so ready to shed blood.
They looked him earnestly in the face, waiting for his
next order, and evidently desiring no other employment
than to follow him from one battle field to another, all over
the wide world. But Cadmus was wiser than these earth-
born creatures, with their dragon's fierceness in them, and
knew better how to use their strength and hardihood.
"Come !" said he. "You are sturdy fellows. Make your-
III
selves useful ! Quarry some stones with those great swords
of yours, and help me to build a city."
The five soldiers grumbled a little, and muttered that it
was their business to overthrow cities, not to build them up.
But Cadmus looked at them with a stern eye, and spoke to
them in a tone of authority, so that they knew him for their
master, and never again thought of disobeying his com-
mands. They set to work in good earnest, and toiled so
diligently, that, in a very short time, a city began to make
its appearance. At first, to be sure, the workmen showed
a quarrelsome disposition. Like savage beasts, they would
doubtless have done one another a mischief, if Cadmus had
not kept watch over them, and quelled the fierce old serpent
that lurked in their hearts, when he saw it gleaming out of
their wild eyes. But, in course of time, they got accustomed
to honest labor, and had sense enough to feel that there was
more true enjoyment in living at peace, and doing good to
one's neighbor, than in striking at him with a two-edged
sword. It may not be too much to hope that the rest of
mankind will by and by grow as wise and peaceable as
these five earth begrimed warriors, who sprang from the
dragon's teeth.
And now the city was built, and there was a home in it
for each of the workmen. But the palace of Cadmus was
not yet erected, because they had left it till the last, meaning
to introduce all the new improvements of architecture, and
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112
make it very commodious, as well as stately and beautiful.
After finishing the rest of their labors, they all went to
bed betimes, in order to rise in the gray of the morning, and
get at least the foundation of the edifice laid out before night-
fall. But, when Cadmus arose, and took his way towards
the site where the palace was to be built, followed by his
five sturdy workmen marching all in a row, what do you
think he saw?
What should it be but the most magnificent palace that
had ever been seen in the world. It was built of marble
and other kinds of stone, and rose high into the air, with
a splendid dome and a portico along the front, and carved
pillars, and everything else that befitted the habitation of
a mighty king. It had grown up out of the earth in almost
as short a time as it had taken the armed host to spring
from the dragon's teeth; and what made the matter more
strange, no seed of this stately edifice had ever been planted.
When the five workmen beheld the dome, with the
morning sunshine making it look golden and glorious, they
gave a great shout.
"Long live King Cadmus," they cried, "in his beautiful
palace."
And the new king, with his five faithful followers at his
heels, shouldering their pickaxes and marching in a rank,
(for they still had a soldierlike sort of behavior, as their
nature was,) ascended the palace steps. Halting at the
entrance, they gazed through a long vista of lofty pillars,
that were ranged from end to end of a great hall. At the
farther extremity of this hall, approaching slowly towards
him, Cadmus beheld a female figure, wonderfully beautiful,
and adorned with a royal robe, and a crown of diamonds
over her golden ringlets, and the richest necklace that ever
a queen wore. His heart thrilled with delight. He fancied
it his long-lost sister Europa, now grown to womanhood,
coming to make him happy, and to repay him with her
sweet sisterly affection, for all those weary wanderings in
quest of her since he left King Agenor's palace for the
tears that he had shed, on parting with Phoenix, and Cilix,
and Thasus for the heart-breakings that had made the
whole world seem dismal to him over his dear mother's
grave.
But, as Cadmus advanced to meet the beautiful stranger,
he saw that her features were unknown to him, although,
in the little time that it required to tread along the hall,
he had already felt a sympathy betwixt himself and her.
"No, Cadmus," said the same voice that had spoken to
him in the field of the armed men, "this is not that dear
sister Europa whom you have sought so faithfully all over
the wide world. This is Harmonia, a daughter of the sky,
who is given you instead of sister, and brothers, and friend,
and mother. You will find all those dear ones in her alone."
So King Cadmus dwelt in the palace, with his new
114
friend Harmonia, and found a great deal of comfort in his
magnificent abode, but would doubtless have found as much,
if not more, in the humblest cottage by the wayside. Before
many years went by, there was a group of rosy little children
(but how they came thither has always been a mystery to me)
sporting in the great hall, and on the marble steps of the
palace, and running joyfully to meet King Cadmus when
affairs of state left him at leisure to play with them. They
called him father, and Queen Harmonia mother. The
five old soldiers of the dragon's teeth grew very fond of
these small urchins, and were never weary of showing them
how to shoulder sticks, flourish wooden swords, and march
in military order, blowing a penny trumpet, or beating an
abominable rub-a-dub upon a little drum.
But King Cadmus, lest there should be too much of the
dragon's tooth in his children's disposition, used to find
time from his kingly duties to teach them their A B C
which he invented for their benefit, and for which many
little people, I am afraid, are not half so grateful to him
as they ought to be.
CIRCE'S PALACE
CIRCE'S PALACE
SOME of you have heard no doubt, of the wise King
Ulysses, and how he went to the siege of Troy, and
how, after that famous city was taken and burned,
he spent ten long years in trying to get back again to his
own little kingdom of Ithaca. At one time in the course
of this weary voyage, he arrived at an island that looked
very green and pleasant, but the name of which was un-
known to him. For, only a little while before he came
thither, he had met with a terrible hurricane, or rather a
great many hurricanes at once, which drove his fleet of ves-
sels into a strange part of the sea, where neither himself
nor any of his mariners had ever sailed. This misfortune
was entirely owing to the foolish curiosity of his ship-mates,
who, while Ulysses lay asleep, had untied some very bulky
leathern bags, in which they supposed a valuable treasure
117
to be concealed. But in each of these stout bags, King
TEolus, the ruler oi the winds, had tied up a tempest, and
had given it to Ulysses to keep, in order that he might be
sure of a favorable passage homeward to Ithaca; and when
the strings were loosened, forth rushed the whistling
blasts, like air out of a blown bladder, whitening the sea
with foam, and scattering the vessels nobody could tell
whither.
Immediately after escaping from this peril, a still greater
one had befallen him. Scudding before the hurricane, he
reached a place, which, as he afterwards found, was called
Laestrygonia, where some monstrous giants had eaten up
many of his companions, and had sunk every one of his
vessels, except that in which he himself sailed, by flinging
great masses of rock at them, from the cliffs along the shore.
After going through such troubles as these, you cannot
wonder that King Ulysses was glad to moor his tempest-
beaten bark in a quiet cove of the green island, which I
began with telling you about. But he had encountered
so many dangers from giants, and one-eyed Cyclopes, and
monsters of the sea and land, that he could not help dread-
ing some mischief, even in this pleasant and seemingly
solitary spot. For two days, therefore, the poor weather-
worn voyagers kept quiet, and either staid on board of their
vessel, or merely crept along under the cliffs that bordered
the shore; and to keep themselves alive, they dug shellfish
118
ftftitffffftftftftft
out of the sand, and sought for any little rill of fresh water
that might be running towards the sea.
Before the two days were spent, they grew very weary
of this kind of life; for the followers of King Ulysses, as
you will find it important to remember, were terrible gor-
mandizers, and pretty sure to grumble if they missed their
regular meals, and their irregular ones besides. Their
stock of provisions was quite exhausted, and even the shell-
fish began to get scarce, so that they had now to choose
between starving to death or venturing into the interior of
the island, where perhaps some huge three-headed dragon,
or other horrible monster, had his den. Such misshapen
creatures were very numerous in those days; and nobody
ever expected to make a voyage, or take a journey, without
running more or less risk of being devoured by them.
But King Ulysses was a bold man as well as a prudent
one; and on the third morning he determined to discover
what sort of a place the island was, and whether it were
possible to obtain a supply of food for the hungry mouths
of his companions. So, taking a spear in his hand, he
clambered to the summit of a cliff and gazed round about
him. At a distance, towards the center of the island, he be-
held the stately towers of what seemed to be a palace, built of
snow-white marble, and rising in the midst of a grove of
lofty trees. The thick branches of these trees stretched
across the front of the edifice, and more than half concealed
119
r\>
ft \'l
At a distance he beheld stately towers.
it, although, from the portion which he saw, Ulysses judged
it to be spacious and exceedingly beautiful, and probably
the residence of some great nobleman or prince. A blue
smoke went curling up from the chimney, and was almost
the pleasantest part of the spectacle to Ulysses. For, from
the abundance of this smoke, it was reasonable to conclude
that there was a good fire in the kitchen, and that, at dinner
If
120
time, a plentiful banquet would be served up to the inhabi-
tants of the palace, and to whatever guests might happen
to drop in.
With so agreeable a prospect before him, Ulysses fancied
that he could not do better than to go straight to the palace
gate, and tell the master of it that there was a crew of poor
ship-wrecked mariners not far off, who had eaten nothing
for a day or two, save a few clams and oysters, and would
therefore be thankful for a little food. And the prince or
nobleman must be a very stingy curmudgeon, to be sure, if,
at least, when his own dinner was over, he would not bid
them welcome to the broken victuals from the table.
Pleasing himself with this idea, King Ulysses had made
a few steps in the direction of the palace, when there was
a great twittering and chirping from the branch of a neigh-
boring tree. A moment afterwards, a bird came flying to-
wards him, and hovered in the air, so as almost to brush his
face with its wings. It was a very pretty little bird, with
purple wings and body, and yellow legs, and a circle of
golden feathers round its neck, and on its head a golden
tuft, which looked like a king's crown in miniature. Ulysses
tried to catch the bird. But it fluttered nimbly out of his
reach, still chirping in a piteous tone, as if it could have told
a lamentable story, had it only been gifted with human
language. And when he attempted to drive it away, the
bird flew no farther than the bough of the next tree, and
121
again came fluttering about his head, with its doleful chirp,
as soon as he showed a purpose of going forward.
"Have you anything to tell me, little bird?" asked
.Ulysses.
And he was ready to listen attentively to whatever the
bird might communicate; for, at the siege of Troy, and
elsewhere, he had known such odd things to happen, that
he would not have considered it much out of the common
run had this little feathered creature talked as plainly as
himself.
"Peep!" said the bird, "peep, peep, pe weep!" And
nothing else would it say, but only, "Peep, peep, pe weep !"
in a melancholy cadence, and over and over and over again.
As often as Ulysses moved forward, however, the bird
showed the greatest alarm, and did its best to drive him back,
with the anxious flutter of its purple wings. Its unaccount-
able behavior made him conclude, at last, that the bird knew
of some danger that awaited him, and which must needs be
very terrible, beyond all question, since it moved even a little
fowl to feel compassion for a human being. So he resolved,
for th.e present, to return to the vessel, and tell his compan-
ions what he had seen. This appeared to satisfy the bird.
As soon as Ulysses turned back, it ran up the trunk of a tree,
and began to pick insects out of the bark with its long, sharp
bill ; for it was a kind of woodpecker, you must know, and
had to get its living in the same manner as other birds of that
122
species. But every little while, as it pecked at the bark of
the tree, the purple bird bethought itself of some secret
sorrow, and repeated its plaintive note of "Peep, peep, pe
weep!"
On his way to the shore, Ulysses had the good luck to kill
a large stag by thrusting his spear into its back. Taking it
on his shoulders, (for he was a remarkably strong man) he
lugged it along with him, and flung it down before his
hungry companions. I have already hinted to you what
gormandizers some of the comrades of King Ulysses were.
From what is related of them, I reckon that their favorite diet
was pork and that they had lived upon it until a good part
of their physical substance was swine's flesh, and their
tempers and dispositions were very much akin to the hog.
A dish of venison, however, was no unacceptable meal to
them, especially after feeding so long on oysters and clams.
So, beholding the dead stag, they felt of its ribs, in a knowing
way, and lost no time in kindling a fire, of driftwood, to cook
it. The rest of the day was spent in feasting; and if these
enormous eaters got up from table at sunset, it was only be-
cause they could not scrape another morsel off the poor ani-
mal's bones.
The next morning, their appetites were as sharp as ever.
They looked at Ulysses, as if they expected him to clamber
up the cliff again, and come back with another fat deer upon
his shoulders. Instead of setting out, however, he sum-
||
123
moned the whole crew together, and told them it was in vain
to hope that he could kill a stag every day for their dinner,
and therefore it was advisable to think of some other mode
of satisfying their hunger.
"Now," said he, "when I was on the cliff yesterday, I
discovered that this island is inhabited. At a considerable
distance from the shore stood a marble palace, which ap-
peared to be very spacious, and had a great deal of smoke
curling out of one of its chimneys."
"Aha!" muttered some of his companions, smacking
their lips. "That smoke must have come from the kitchen
fire. There was a good dinner on the spit; and no doubt
there will be as good a one to-day."
"But," continued the wise Ulysses, "you must remember,
my good friends, our misadventure in the cavern of one-
eyed Polyphemus, the Cyclops! Instead of his ordinary
milk diet, did he not eat up two of our comrades for his
supper, and a couple more for breakfast, and two at his sup-
per again? Methinks I see him yet, the hideous monster,
scanning us with that great red eye, in the middle of his
forehead, to single out the fattest. And then, again, only
a few days ago, did we not fall into the hands of the king
of the Laestrygons, and those other horrible giants, his sub-
jects, who devoured a great many more of us than are now
left? To tell you the truth, if we go to yonder palace, there
can be no question that we shall make our appearance at
124
the dinner table; but whether seated as guests, or served up
as food, is a point to be seriously considered."
"Either way," murmured some of the hungriest of the
crew, "it will be better than starvation; particularly if one
could be sure of being well fattened beforehand, and daintily
cooked afterwards."
"That is a matter of taste," said King Ulysses, "and, for
my own part, neither the most careful fattening nor the
daintiest of cookery would reconcile me to being dished
at last. My proposal is, therefore, that we divide ourselves
into two equal parties, and ascertain, by drawing lots, which
of the two shall go to the palace, and beg for food and assis-
tance. If these can be obtained, all is well. If not, and if
the inhabitants prove as inhospitable as Polyphemus, or the
Laestrygons, then there will but half of us perish, and the
remainder may set sail and escape."
As nobody objected to this scheme, Ulysses proceeded
to count the whole band, and found that there were 'forty-
six men, including himself. He then numbered off twenty-
two of them, and put Eurylochus (who was one of his chief
officers, and second only to himself in sagacity) at their
head. Ulysses took command of the remaining twenty-two
men, in person. Then, taking off his helmet, he put two
shells into it, on one of which was written, "Go," and on
the other, "Stay." Another person now held the helmet,
while Ulysses and Eurylochus drew out each a shell; and
125
the word "Go" was found written on that which Eurylochus
had drawn. In this manner, it was decided that Ulysses
and his twenty-two men were to remain at the sea-side until
the other party should have found out what sort of treat-
ment they might expect at the mysterious palace. As there
was no help for it, Eurylochus immediately set forth at the
head of his twenty-two followers, who went off in a very
melancholy state of mind, leaving their friends in hardly
better spirits than themselves.
No sooner had they clambered up the cliff, than they dis-
cerned the tall marble towers of the palace, ascending, as
white as snow, out of the lovely green shadow of the trees
which surrounded it. A gush of smoke came from a chim-
ney in the rear of the edifice. This vapor rose high in the
air, and, meeting with a breeze, was wafted seaward, and
made to pass over the heads of the hungry mariners. When
people's appetites are keen, they have a very quick scent
for anything savory in the wind.
"That smoke comes from the kitchen!" cried one of
them, turning up his nose as high as he could, and snuffing
eagerly. "And, as sure as I'm a half-starved vagabond, I
smell roast meat in it."
"Pig, roast pig!" said another. "Ah, the dainty little
porker ! My mouth waters for him."
"Let us make haste," cried the others, "or we shall be
too late for the good cheer !"
126
But scarcely had they made half a dozen steps from the
edge of the cliff, when a bird came fluttering to meet them.
It was the same pretty little bird, with the purple wings and
body, the yellow legs, the golden collar round its neck,
and the crown-like tuft upon its head, whose behavior had
so much surprised Ulysses. It hovered about Eurylochus,
and almost brushed his face with its wings.
"Peep, peep, pe weep !" chirped the bird.
So plaintively intelligent was the sound, that it seemed
as if the little creature were going to break its heart with
some mighty secret that it had to tell, and only this one poor
note to tell it with.
"My pretty bird," said Eurylochus, for he was a wary
person, and let no token of harm escape his notice, -"my
pretty bird, who sent you hither? And what is the message
which you bring?"
"Peep, peep, pe weep!" replied the bird, very sorrow-
fully.
Then it flew towards the edge of the cliff, and looked
round at them, as if exceedingly anxious that they should
return whence they came. Eurylochus and a few of the
others were inclined to turn back. They could not help
suspecting that the purple bird must be aware of something
mischievous that would befall them at the palace, and the
knowledge of which affected its airy spirit with a human
sympathy and sorrow. But the rest of the voyagers, snuf-
127
fffiifitffffftfiftft
fing up the smoke from the palace kitchen, ridiculed the
idea of returning to the vessel. One of them (more brutal
than his fellows, and the most notorious gormandizer in the
whole crew) said such a cruel and wicked thing, that I
wonder the mere thought did not turn him into a wild beast
in shape, as he already was in his nature.
"This troublesome and impertinent little fowl," said he,
"would make a delicate titbit to begin dinner with. Just
one plump morsel, melting away between the teeth. If he
comes within my reach, I'll catch him, and give him to the
palace cook to be roasted on a skewer."
The words were hardly out of his mouth, before the purple
bird flew away, crying, "Peep, peep, pe weep," more dolor-
ously than ever.
"That bird," remarked Eurylochus, "knows more than
we do about what awaits us at the palace."
"Come on, then," cried his comrades, "and we'll soon
know as much as he does."
The party, accordingly, went onward through the green
and pleasant wood. Every little while they caught new
glimpses of the marble palace, which looked more and more
beautiful the nearer they approached it. They soon entered
a broad pathway, which seemed to be very neatly kept, and
which went winding along, with streaks of sunshine falling
across it, and specks of light quivering among the deepest
shadows that fell from the lofty trees. It was bordered, too,
128
with a great many sweet- smelling flowers, such as the mari-
ners had never seen before. So rich and beautiful they
were, that, if the shrubs grew wild here, and were native in
the soil, then this island was surely the flower garden of the
whole earth; or, if transplanted from some other clime, it
must have been from the Happy Islands that lay towards
the golden sunset.
"There has been a great deal of pains foolishly wasted
on these flowers," observed one of the company; and I tell
you what he said, that you may keep in mind what gorman-
dizers they were. "For my part, if I were the owner of the
palace, I would bid my gardener cultivate nothing but
savory pot herbs to make a stuffing for roast meat, or to
flavor a stew with."
"Well said!" cried the others. "But I'll warrant you
there's a kitchen garden in the rear of the palace."
At one place they came to a crystal spring, and paused
to drink at it for want of liquor, which they liked better.
Looking into its bosom, they beheld their own faces dimly
reflected, but so extravagantly distorted by the gush and
motion of the water, that each of them appeared to be laugh-
ing at himself and all his companions. So ridiculous were
these images of themselves, indeed, that they did really laugh
aloud, and could hardly be grave again as soon as they
wished. And after they had drank, they grew still merrier
than before.
129
"It has the twang of the wine cask in it," said one, smack-
ing his lips.
"Make haste!" cried his fellews; "we'll find the wine cask
itself at the palace; and that will be better than a hundred
crystal fountains."
Then they quickened their pace, and capered for joy at
the thought of the savory banquet at which they hoped to
be guests. But Eurylochus told them that he felt as if he
were walking in a dream.
"If I am really awake," continued he, "then, in my
opinion, we are on the point of meeting with some stranger
adventure than any that befell us in the cave of Polyphemus,
or among the gigantic man-eating Laestrygons, or in the
windy palace of King /Eolus, which stands on a brazen-
walled island. This kind of dreamy feeling always comes
over me before any wonderful occurrence. If you take
my advice, you will turn back."
"No, no," answered his comrades, snuffing the air, in
which the scent from the palace kitchen was now very
perceptible. "We would not turn back, though we were
certain that the king of the Laestrygons, as big as a mountain,
would sit at the head of the table, and huge Polyphemus, the
one-eyed Cyclops, at its foot."
At length they came within full sight of the palace, which
proved to be very large and lofty, with a great number of
airy pinnacles upon its roof. Though it was now midday,
130
itftftftfiftftitftit
and the sun shone brightly over the marble front, yet its
snowy whiteness, and its fantastic style of architecture, made
it look unreal, like the frostwork on a window pane, or like
the shapes of castles which one sees among the clouds by
moonlight. But, just then, a puff of wind brought down
the smoke of the kitchen among them, and caused each man
to smell the odor of the dish that he liked best; and, after
scenting it, they thought everything else moonshine, and
nothing real save this palace, and save the banquet that was
evidently ready to be served up in it.
So they hastened their steps towards the portal, but had
not got half way across the wide lawn, when a pack of lions,
tigers, and wolves came bounding to meet them. The
terrified mariners started back, expecting no better fate than
to be torn to pieces and devoured. To their surprise and
joy, however, these wild beasts merely capered around them,
wagging their tails, offering their heads to be stroked and
patted, and behaving just like so many well-bred house dogs,
when they wish to express their delight at meeting their
master, or their master's friends. The biggest lion licked
the feet of Eurylochus; and every other lion, and every wolf
and tiger, singled out one of his two and twenty followers,
whom the beast fondled as if he loved him better than a
beef bone.
But, for all that, Eurylochus imagined that he saw some-
thing fierce and savage in their eyes; nor would he have
been surprised, at any moment, to feel the big lion's terrible
claws, or to see each of the tigers make a deadly spring, or
each wolf leap at the throat of the man whom he had fondled.
Their mildness seemed unreal, and a mere freak; but their
savage nature was as true as their teeth and claws.
Nevertheless, the men went safely across the lawn with
the wild beasts frisking about them, and doing no manner
of harm; although, as they mounted the steps of the palace,
you might possibly have heard a low growl, particularly
from the wolves; as if they thought it a pity, after all, to let
the strangers pass without so much as tasting what they were
made of.
Eurylochus and his followers now passed under a lofty
portal and looked through the open doorway into the in-
terior of the palace. The first thing that they saw was a
spacious hall and a fountain in the middle of it, gushing
up towards the ceiling out of a marble basin, and falling
back into it with a continual splash. The water of this
fountain, as it spouted upward, was constantly taking new
shapes, not very distinctly, but plainly enough for a nimble
fancy to recognize what they were. Now it was the shape
of a man in a long robe, the fleecy whiteness of which was
made out of the fountain's spray; now it was a lion, or a
tiger, or a wolf, or an ass, or, as often as anything else, a
hog wallowing in the marble basin as if it were his sty. It
was either magic or some very curious machinery that
,
132
caused the gushing waterspout to assume all these forms.
But, before the strangers had time to look closely at this
wonderful sight, their attention was drawn off by a very
sweet and agreeable sound. A woman's voice was singing
melodiously in another room of the palace, and with her
voice was mingled the noise of a loom, at which she was
probably seated, weaving a rich texture of cloth, and inter-
twining the high and low sweetness of her voice into a rich
tissue of harmony.
By and by, the song came to an end ; and then, all at once,
there were several feminine voices, talking airily and cheer-
fully, with now and then a merry burst of laughter, such as
you may always hear when three or four young women sit
at work together.
"What a sweet song that was!" exclaimed one of the
voyagers.
"Too sweet, indeed," answered Eurylochus, shaking his
head. "Yet it was not so sweet as the song of the Sirens,
those bird-like damsels who wanted to tempt us on the rocks,
so that our vessels might be wrecked, and our bones left
whitening along the shore."
"But just listen to the pleasant voices of those maidens,
and that buzz of the loom, as the shuttle passes to and fro,"
said another comrade. ''What a domestic, household, home-
like sound it is! Ah, before that weary siege of Troy, I
used to hear the buzzing loom and the women's voices under
123
my own roof. Shall I never hear them again? nor taste
those nice little savory dishes which my dearest wife knew
how to serve up?"
"Tush! we shall fare better here," said another. "But
how innocently those women are babbling together, without
guessing that we overhear them! And mark that richest
voice of all, so pleasant and familiar, but which yet seems
to have the authority of a mistress among them. Let us
show ourselves at once. What harm can the lady of the
palace and her maidens do to mariners and warriors like
us?"
"Remember," said Eurylochus, "that it was a young
maiden who beguiled three of our friends into the palace
of the king of the Laestrygons, who ate up one of them in
the twinkling of an eye."
No warning or persuasion, however, had any effect on
his companions. They went up to a pair of folding doors
at the farther end of the hall, and throwing them wide open,
passed into the next room. Eurylochus, meanwhile, had
stepped behind a pillar. In the short moment while the
folding doors opened and closed again, he caught a glimpse
of a very beautiful woman rising from the loom, and coming
to meet the poor weather-beaten wanderers, with a hospit-
able smile, and her hand stretched out in welcome. There
were four other young women, who joined their hands and
danced merrily forward, making gestures of obeisance to
>
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/ERS t 'TINED THE
the strangers. They were only less beautiful than the lady
who seemed to be their mistress. Yet Eurylochus fancied
that one of them had sea-green hair, and that the close-
fitting bodice of a second looked like the bark of a tree,
and that both the others had something odd in their aspect,
although he could not quite determine what it was, in the
little while that he had to examine them.
The folding doors swung quickly back, and left him
standing behind the pillar, in the solitude of the outer hall.
There Eurylochus waited until he was quite weary, and
listened eagerly to every sound, but without hearing any-
thing that could help him to guess what had become of his
friends. Footsteps, it is true, seemed to be passing and
repassing, in other parts of the palace. Then there was a
clatter of silver dishes, or golden ones, which made him
imagine a rich feast in a splendid banqueting hall. But by
and by he heard a tremendous grunting and squealing, and
then a sudden scampering, like that of small, hard hoofs
over a marble floor, while the voices of the mistress and her
four handmaidens were screaming all together, in tones of
anger and derision. Eurylochus could not conceive what
had happened, unless a drove of swine had broken into the
palace, attracted by the smell of the feast. Chancing to
cast his eyes at the fountain, he saw that it did not shift its
shape, as formerly, nor looked either like a long-robed man,
or a lion, a tiger, a wolf, or an ass. It looked like nothing
135
but a hog, which lay wallowing in the marble basin, and
filled it from brim to brim.
But we must leave the prudent Eurylochus waiting in the
outer hall, and follow his friends into the inner secrecy of
the palace. As soon as the beautiful woman saw them, she
arose from the loom, as I have told you, and came forward,
smiling, and stretching out her hand. She took the hand
of the foremost among them, and bade him and the whole
party welcome.
"You have been long expected, my good friends," said
she. "I and my maidens are well acquainted with you,
although you do not appear to recognize us. Look at this
piece of tapestry, and judge if your faces must not have
been familiar to us."
So the voyagers examined the web of cloth which the
beautiful woman had been weaving in her loom; and, to
their vast astonishment they saw their own figures perfectly
represented in different colored threads. It was a life-like
picture of their recent adventures, showing them in the cave
of Polyphemus, and how they had put out his one great
moony eye ; while in another part of the tapestry they were
untying the leathern bags, puffed out with contrary winds ;
and farther on, they beheld themselves scampering away
from the gigantic king of the Lasstrygons, who had caught
one of them by the leg. Lastly, there they were, sitting
on the desolate shore of this very island, hungry and down-
136
cast, and looking ruefully at the bare bones of the stag which
they devoured yesterday. This was as far as the work had
yet proceeded; but when the beautiful woman should again
sit down at her loom, she would probably make a picture
of what had since happened to the strangers, and of what
was now going to happen.
"You see," she said, "that I know all about your troubles;
and you cannot doubt that I desire to make you happy for
as long a time as you may remain with me. For this pur-
pose, my honored guests, I have ordered a banquet prepared.
Fish, fowl, and flesh, roasted, and in luscious stews, and
seasoned, I trust, to all your tastes, are ready to be served
up. If your appetites tell you it is dinner time, then come
with me to the festal saloon."
At this kind invitation, the hungry mariners were quite
overjoyed; and one of them, taking upon himself to be
spokesman, assured their hospitable hostess that any hour
of the day was dinner time with them, whenever they could
get flesh to put in the pot, and fire to boil it with. So the
beautiful woman led the way; and the four maidens, (one
of them had sea-green hair, another a bodice of oak bark,
a third sprinkled a shower of water drops from her fingers'
ends, and the fourth had some other oddity, which I have
forgotten,) all these followed behind, and hurried the guests
along, until they entered a magnificent saloon. It was
137
built in a perfect oval, and lighted from a crystal dome
above. Around the walls were ranged two and twenty
thrones, overhung by canopies of crimson and gold, and
provided with the softest of cushions, which were tasselled
and fringed with gold cord. Each of the strangers was
invited to sit down; and there they were, two and twenty
storm-beaten mariners, in worn and tattered garb, sitting
on two and twenty cushioned and canopied thrones, so rich
and gorgeous that the proudest monarch had nothing more
splendid in his stateliest hall.
Then you might have seen the guests nodding, winking
with one eye, and leaning from one throne to another, to
communicate their satisfaction in hoarse whispers.
"Our good hostess has made kings of us all," said one.
"Ha! do you smell the feast? I'll engage it will be fit
to set before two and twenty kings."
"I hope," said another, "it will be, mainly, good sub-
stantial joints, surloins, spareribs, and hinder quarters, with-
out too many kickshaws. If I thought the good lady would
not take it amiss, I should call for a fat slice of fried bacon
to begin with."
Ah, the gluttons and gormandizers ! You see how it was
with them. In the loftiest seats of dignity, on royal thrones,
they could think of nothing but their greedy appetite, which
was the portion of their nature that they shared with wolves
and swine; so that they resembled those vilest of animals
138
far more than they did kings if, indeed, kings were what
they ought to be.
But the beautiful woman now clapped her hands; and
immediately there entered a train of two and twenty serving
men bringing dishes of the richest food, all hot from the
kitchen fire, and sending up such a steam that it hung like
a cloud below the crystal dome of the saloon. An equal
number of attendants brought great flagons of wine, of
various kinds, some of which sparkled as it was poured out,
and went bubbling down the throat; while, of other sorts,
the purple liquor was so clear that you could see the wrought
figures at the bottom of the goblet. While the servants
supplied the two and twenty guests with food and drink, the
hostess and her four maidens went from one throne to
another, exhorting them to eat their fill, and to quaff wine
abundantly, and thus to recompense themselves, at this one
banquet, for the many days when they had gone without
a dinner. But, whenever the mariners were not looking
at them, (which was pretty often, as they looked chiefly
into the basins and platters,) the beautiful woman and her
damsels turned aside, and laughed. Even the servants, as
they knelt down to present the dishes, might be seen to grin
and sneer, while the guests were helping themselves to the
offered dainties.
And, once in a while, the strangers seemed to taste some-
thing that they did not like.
0999999998
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II II II II II II II II II
"Here is an odd kind of a spice in this dish," said one.
"I can't say it quite suits my palate. Down it goes,
however."
"Send a good draught of wine down your throat," said his
comrade on the next throne. "That is the stuff to make this
sort of cookery relish well. Though I must needs say, the
wine has a queer taste too. But the more I drink of it, the
better I like the flavor."
Whatever little fault they might find with the dishes, they
sat at dinner a prodigiously long while; and it would really
have made you ashamed to see how they swilled down the
liquor and gobbled up the food. They sat on golden
thrones, to be sure; but they behaved like pigs in a sty; and,
if they had their wits about them, they might have guessed
that this was the opinion of their beautiful hostess and her
maidens. It brings a blush into my face to reckon up, in
my own mind, what mountains of meat and pudding, and
what gallons of wine, these two and twenty guzzlers and
gormandizers ate and drank. They forgot all about their
homes, and their wives and children, and all about
Ulysses, and everything else, except this banquet, at
which they wanted to keep feasting forever. But at length
they began to give over, from mere incapacity to hold any
more.
"That last bit of fat is too much for me," said one.
"And I have not room for another morsel," said his next
140
o & &
neighbor, heaving a sigh. "What a pity! My appetite is
as sharp as ever."
In short, they all left off eating, and leaned back on their
thrones, with such a stupid and helpless aspect as made them
ridiculous to behold. When their hostess saw this, she
laughed aloud; so did her four damsels; so did the two and
twenty serving men that bore the dishes, and their two and
twenty fellows that poured out the wine. And the louder
they all laughed, the more stupid and helpless did the two
and twenty gormandizers look. Then the beautiful woman
took her stand in the middle of the saloon, and stretching out
a slender rod, (it had been all the while in her hand, although
they never noticed it till this moment,) she turned it from one
guest to another, until each had felt it pointed at himself.
Beautiful as her face was, and though there was a smile on it,
it looked just as wicked and mischievous as the ugliest ser-
pent that ever was seen ; and fat-witted as the voyagers had
made themselves, they began to suspect that they had fallen
into the power of an evil-minded enchantress.
"Wretches," cried she, "you have abused a lady's hospital-
ity; and in this princely saloon your behavior has been suited
to a hogpen. You are already swine in everything but the
human form, which you disgrace, and which I myself should
be ashamed to keep a moment longer, were you to share it
with me. But it will require only the slighest exercise of
magic to make the exterior conform to the hoggish dis-
141
position. Assume your proper shapes, gormandizers, and
begone to the sty!"
Uttering these last words, she waved her wand ; and stamp-
ing her foot imperiously, each of the guests was struck
aghast at beholding, instead of his comrades in human shape,
one and twenty hogs sitting on the same number of golden
thrones. Each man (as he still supposed himself to be)
essayed to give a cry of surprise, but found that he could
merely grunt, and that, in a word, he was just such another
beast as his companions. It looked so intolerably absurd
to see hogs on cushioned thrones, that they made haste to
wallow down upon all fours, like other swine. They tried
to groan and beg for mercy, but forthwith emitted the most
awful grunting and squealing that ever came out of swinish
throats. They would have wrung their hands in despair,
but, attempting to do so, grew all the more desperate for see-
ing themselves squatted on their hams, and pawing the air
with their fore trotters. Dear me ! what pendulous ears they
had! what little red eyes, half buried in fat! and what long
snouts, instead of Grecian noses !
But brutes as they certainly were, they yet had enough of
human nature in them to be shocked at their own hideous-
ness; and, still intending to groan, they uttered a viler grunt
and squeal than before. So harsh and ear-piercing it was,
that you would have fancied a butcher was sticking his knife
into each of their throats, or, at the very least, that somebody
142
was pulling every hog by his funny little twist of a tail.
"Begone to your sty!" cried the enchantress, giving them
some smart strokes with her wand; and then she turned to
the serving men "Drive out these swine, and throw down
some acorns for them to eat."
The door of the saloon being flung open, the drove of
hogs ran in all directions save the right one, in accordance
with their hoggish perversity but were finally driven into the
back yard of the palace. It was a sight to bring tears into
one's eyes, (and I hope none of you will be cruel enough to
laugh at it,) to see the poor creatures go snuffing along,
picking up here a cabbage leaf and there a turnip top, and
rooting their noses in the earth for whatever they could find.
In their sty, moreover, they behaved more piggishly than the
pigs that had been born so; for they bit and snorted at one
another, put their feet in the trough, and gobbled up their
victuals in a ridiculous hurry; and, when there was nothing
more to be had, they made a great pile of themselves among
some unclean straw, and fell fast asleep. If they had any
human reason left, it was just enough to keep them wonder-
ing when they should be slaughtered, and what quality of
bacon they should make.
Meantime, as I told you before, Eurylochus had waited,
and waited, and waited, in the entrance hall of the palace,
without being able to comprehend what had befallen his
friends. At last, when the swinish uproar resounded
143
through the palace, and when he saw the image of a hog in
the marble basin, he thought it best to hasten back to the
vessel, and inform the wise Ulysses of these marvellous oc-
currences. So he ran as fast as he could down the steps, and
never stopped to draw breath till he reached the shore.
"Why do you come alone?" asked King Ulysses, as soon
as he saw him. "Where are your two and twenty com-
rades?"
At these questions, Eurylochus burst into tears
"Alas!" cried he,"I greatly fear that we shall never see one
of their faces again."
Then he told Ulysses all that had happened, as far as he
knew it, and added that he suspected the beautiful woman to
be a vile enchantress, and the marble palace, magnificent as
it looked, to be only a dismal cavern in reality. As for his
companions, he could not imagine what had become of
them, unless they had been given to the swine to be devoured
alive. At this intelligence, all the voyagers were greatly
affrighted. But Ulysses lost no time in girding on his
sword, and hanging his bow and quiver over his shoulders,
and taking a spear in his right hand. When his followers
saw their wise leader making these preparations, they in-
quired whither he was going, and earnestly besought him
not to leave them.
"You are our king," cried they; "and what is more, you
are the wisest man in the whole world, and nothing but your
144
wisdom and courage can get us out of this danger. If you
desert us, and go to the enchanted palace, you will suffer the
same fate as our poor companions, and not a soul of us will
ever see our dear Ithaca again."
"As I am your king," answered Ulysses, "and wiser than
any of you, it is therefore the more my duty to see what has
befallen our comrades, and whether anything can yet be
done to rescue them. Wait for me here until to-morrow.
If I do not then return, you must hoist sail, and endeavor to
find your way to our native land. For my part, I am
answerable for the fate of these poor mariners, who have
stood by my side in battle, and been so often drenched to the
skin, along with me, by the same tempestuous surges. I
will either bring them back with me, or perish."
Had his followers dared, they would have detained him by
force. But King Ulysses frowned sternly on them, and
shook his spear, and bade them stop him at their peril. See-
ing him so determined, they let him go, and sat down on the
sand, as disconsolate a set of people as could be, waiting and
praying for his return.
It happened to Ulysses, just as before, that, when he had
gone a few steps from the edge of the cliff, the purple bird
came fluttering towards him, crying, "Peep, peep, pe
weep!" and using all the art it could to persuade him to go
no farther.
"What mean you, little bird?" cried Ulysses. "You are
145
arrayed like a king in purple and gold, and wear a golden
crown upon your head. Is it because I too am a king, that
you desire so earnestly to speak with me? li you can talk in
human language, say what you would have me do."
"Peep!" answered the purple bird, very dolorously.
"Peep, peep, pe we ep !"
Certainly there lay some heavy anguish at the little bird's
heart; and it was a sorrowful predicament that he could not,
at least, have the consolation of telling what it was. But
Ulysses had no time to waste in trying to get at the mystery.
He therefore quickened his pace, and had gone a good way
along the pleasant wood path when there met him a young
man of very brisk and intelligent aspect, and clad in a rather
singular garb. He wore a short cloak, and a sort of cap
that seemed to be furnished with a pair of wings; and from
the lightness of his step, you would have supposed that there
might likewise be wings on his feet. To enable him to walk
still better, (for he was always on one journey or another,)
he carried a winged staff, around which two serpents were
wriggling and twisting. In short, I have said enough to
make you guess that it was Quicksilver; and Ulysses (who
knew him of old, and had learned a great deal of his wisdom
from him) recognized him in a moment.
"Whither are you going in such a hurry, wise Ulysses?"
asked Quicksilver. "Do you not know that this island is
enchanted? The wicked enchantress (whose name is
146
Circe, the sister of King /Eetes) dwells in the marble palace
which you see yonder among the trees. By her magic arts,
she changes every human being into the brute beast or fowl
whom he happens most to resemble."
"That little bird, which met me at the edge of the cliff,"
exclaimed Ulysses; "was he a human being once?"
"Yes," answered Quicksilver. "He was once a king,
named Picus, and a pretty good sort of a king too, only
rather too proud of his purple robe, and his crown, and the
golden chain about his neck; so he was forced to take the
shape of a gaudy-feathered bird. The lions, and wolves,
and tigers, who will come running to meet you, in front of
the palace, were formerly fierce and cruel men, resembling
in their dispositions the wild beasts whose forms they now
rightfully wear."
"And my poor companions," said Ulysses. "Have they
undergone a similar change, through the arts of this wicked
Circe?"
"You well know what gormandizers they were," replied
Quicksilver; and rogue that he was, he could not help
laughing at the joke. "So you will not be surprised to
hear that they have all taken the shapes of swine ! If Circe
had never done anything worse, I really should not think
her so very much to blame."
"But can I do nothing to help them?" inquired Ulysses.
"It will require all your wisdom," said Quicksilver, "and
147
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a little of my own into the bargain, to keep your royal and
sagacious self from being transformed into a fox. But do
as I bid you, and the matter may end better than it has
begun."
While he was speaking, Quicksilver seemed to be in
search of something; he went stooping along the ground,
and soon laid his hand on a little plant with a snow-white
flower, which he plucked and smelt of. Ulysses had been
looking at that very spot only just before; and it appeared
to him that the plant had burst into full flower the instant
when Quicksilver touched it with his fingers.
"Take this flower, King Ulysses," said he. "Guard it
as you do your eyesight; for I can assure you it is exceed-
ingly rare and precious, and you might seek the whole earth
over without ever finding another like it. Keep it in your
hand, and smell of it frequently after you enter the palace,
and while you are talking with the enchantress. Especially
when she offers you food, or a draught of wine out of her
goblet, be careful to fill your nostrils with the flower's fra-
grance. Follow these directions, and you may defy her
magic arts to change you into a fox."
Quicksilver then gave him some further advice how to
behave, and bidding him to be bold and prudent, again
assured him that, powerful as Circe was, he would have a
fair prospect of coming safely out of her enchanted palace.
After listening attentively, Ulysses thanked his good friend,
148
and resumed his way. But he had taken only a few steps,
when, recollecting some other questions which he wished
to ask, he turned round again, and beheld nobody on the
spot where Quicksilver had stood; for that winged cap of his,
and those winged shoes, with the help of the winged staff,
had carried him quickly out of sight.
When Ulysses reached the lawn, in front of the palace,
the lions and other savage animals came bounding to meet
him, and would have fawned upon him and licked his feet.
But the wise king struck at them with his long spear, and
sternly bade them begone out of his path ; for he knew that
they had once been bloodthirsty men, and would now tear
him limb from limb, instead of fawning upon him, could
they do the mischief that was in their hearts. The wild
beasts yelped and glared at him, and stood at a distance,
while he ascended the palace steps.
On entering the hall, Ulysses saw the magic fountain in
the center of it. The up-gushing water had now again
taken the shape of a man in a long, white, fleecy robe, who
appeared to be making gestures of welcome. The king
likewise heard the noise of the shuttle in the loom, and the
sweet melody of the beautiful woman's song, and then the
pleasant voices of herself and the four maidens talking
together, with peals of merry laughter intermixed. But
Ulysses did not waste much time in listening to the laughter
or the song. He leaned his spear against one of the pillars
149
of the hall, and then, after loosening his sword in the scab-
bard, stepped boldly forward, and threw the folding doors
wide open. The moment she beheld his stately figure
standing in the doorway, the beautiful woman rose from
the loom, and ran to meet him with a glad smile throwing
its sunshine over her face, and both her hands extended.
"Welcome, brave stranger!" cried she. "We were ex-
pecting you."
And the nymph with the sea-green hair made a courtesy
down to the ground, and likewise bade him welcome; so
did her sister with the bodice of oaken bark, and she that
sprinkled dewdrops from her fingers' ends, and the fourth
one with some oddity which I cannot remember. And
Circe, as the beautiful enchantress was called, (who had
deluded so many persons that she did not doubt of being
able to delude Ulysses, not imagining how wise he was,)
again addressed him :
"Your companions," said she, "have already been received
into my palace, and have enjoyed the hospitable treatment
to which the propriety of their behavior so well entitles them.
If such be your pleasure,, you shall first take some refresh-
ment, and then join them in the elegant apartment which
they now occupy. See, I and my maidens have been weav-
ing their figures into this piece of tapestry."
She pointed to the web of beautifully-woven cloth in the
loom. Circe and the four nymphs must have been very
150
diligently at work since the arrival of the mariners; for a
great many yards of tapestry had now been wrought, in
addition to what I before described. In this new part,
Ulysses saw his two and twenty friends represented as sitting
on cushioned and canopied thrones, greedily devouring
dainties, and quaffing deep draughts of wine. The work
had not yet gone any further. O, no, indeed. The enchan-
tress was far too cunning to let Ulysses see the mischief
which her magic arts had since brought upon the
gormandizers.
"As for yourself, valiant sir," said Circe, "judging by
the dignity of your aspect, I take you td be nothing less than
a king. Deign to follow me, and you shall be treated as
befits your rank."
So Ulysses followed her into the oval saloon, where his
two and twenty comrades had devoured the banquet, which
ended so disastrously for themselves. But, all this while,
he had held the snow-white flower in his hand, and had
constantly smelt of it while Circe was speaking; and as he
crossed the threshold of the saloon, he took good care to
inhale several long and deep snuffs of its fragrance. In-
stead of two and twenty thrones, which had before been
ranged around the wall, there was now only a single throne,
in the center of the apartment. But this was surely the most
magnificent seat that ever a king or an emperor reposed him-
self upon, all made of chased gold, studded with precious
151
flftftfttlftftfffffi
stones, with a cushion that looked like a soft heap of living
roses, and overhung by a canopy of sunlight which Circe
knew how to weave into drapery. The enchantress took
Ulysses by the hand, and made him sit down upon this daz-
zling throne. Then, clapping her hands, she summoned the
chief butler.
"Bring hither," said she, "the goblet that is set apart for
kings to drink out of. And fill it with the same delicious
wine which my royal brother King /Eetes praised so highly,
when he last visited me with my fair daughter Medea. That
good and amiable child! Were she now here, it would
delight her to see me offering this wine to my honored
guest."
But Ulysses, while the butler was gone for the wine, held
the snow-white flower to his nose.
"Is it a wholesome wine?" he asked.
At this the four maidens tittered; whereupon the enchan-
tress looked around at them, with an aspect of severity.
"It is the wholesomest juice that ever was squeezed out
of the grape," said she; "for, instead of disguising a man,
as other liquor is apt to do, it brings him to his true self, and
shows him as he ought to be."
The chief butler liked nothing better than to see people
turned into swine, or making any kind of a beast of them-
selves; so he made haste to bring the royal goblet, filled
with a liquid as bright as gold, and which kept sparkling
x-s, x-q,
152
upward, and throwing a sunny spray over the brim. But,
delightfully as the wine looked, it was mingled with the
most potent enchantments that Circe knew how to concoct.
For every drop of the pure grape juice there were two drops
of the pure mischief; and the danger of the thing was, that
the mischief made it taste all the better. The mere smell
of the bubbles, which effervesced at the brim, was enough
to turn a man's beard into pig's bristles, or make a lion's
claws grow out of his fingers, or a fox's brush behind him.
"Drink, my noble guest," said Circe, smiling as she
presented him with the goblet. "You will find in this
draught a solace for all your troubles."
King Ulysses took the goblet with his right hand, while
with his left he held the snow-white flower to his nostrils,
and drew in so long a breath that his lungs were quite filled
with its pure and simple fragrance. Then, drinking off
all the wine, he looked the enchantress calmly in the face.
"Wretch," cried Circe, giving him a smart stroke with her
wand, "how dare you keep your human shape a moment
longer? Take the form of the brute whom you most
resemble. If a hog, go join your fellow-swine in the sty;
if a lion, a wolf, a tiger, go howl with the wild beasts on the
lawn; if a fox, go exercise your craft in stealing poultry.
Thou hast quaffed off my wine, and canst be man no longer."
But, such was the virtue of the snow-white flower, instead
of wallowing down from his throne in swinish shape, or
ftftffffftflfiitttfi
153
"Wretch!" cried Circe.
taking any other brutal form, Ulysses looked even more
manly and king-like than before. He gave the magic gob-
let a toss, and sent it clashing over the marble floor, to the
farthest end of the saloon. Then drawing his sword, he
seized the enchantress by her beautiful ringlets, and made
a gesture as if he meant to strike off her head at one blow.
"Wicked Circe," cried he in a terrible voice, "this sword
154
shall put an end to thy enchantments. Thou shalt die, vile
witch, and do no more mischief in the world, by tempting
human beings into the vices which make beasts of them."
The tone and countenance of Ulysses were so awful, and
his sword gleamed so brightly, and seemed to have so intoler-
ably keen an edge, that Circe was almost killed by the mere
fright, without waiting for the blow. The chief butler
scrambled out of the saloon, picking up the golden goblet
as he went; and the enchantress and the four maidens fell
on their knees, wringing their hands, and screaming for
mercy.
"Spare me!" cried Circe. "Spare me, royal and wise
Ulysses. For now I know that thou art he of whom Quick-
silver forewarned me, the most prudent of mortals, against
whom no enchantments can prevail. Thou only couldst
have conquered Circe. Spare me, wisest of men. I will
show thee true hospitality, and even give myself to be thy
slave, and this magnificent palace to be henceforth thy
home."
The four nymphs, meanwhile, were making a most piteous
ado; and especially the ocean nymph, with the sea-green
hair, wept a great deal of salt water, and the fountain nymph,
besides scattering dewdrops from her fingers' ends, nearly
melted away into tears. But Ulysses would not be pacified
until Circe had taken a solemn oath to change back his
companions, and as many others as he should direct, from
155
their present forms of beast or bird into their former shapes
of men.
"On these conditions" said he, "I consent to spare your
life. Otherwise you must die on the spot."
With a drawn sword hanging over her, the enchantress
would readily have consented to do as much good as she
had hitherto done mischief, however little she might like
such employment. She therefore led Ulysses out of the
back entrance of the palace, and showed him the swine in
their sty. There were about fifty of these unclean beasts in
the whole herd; and though the greater part were hogs by
birth and education, there was wonderfully little difference
to be seen betwixt them and their new brethren who had so
recently worn the human shape. To speak critically, in-
deed, the latter rather carried the thing to excess, and seemed
to make it a point to wallow in the miriest part of the sty, and
otherwise to outdo the original swine in their own natural
vocation. When men once turn to brutes, the trifle of man's
wit that remains in them adds tenfold to their brutality.
The comrades of Ulysses, however, had not quite lost
the remembrance of having formerly stood erect. When he
approached the sty, two and twenty enormous swine sepa-
rated themselves from the herd, and scampered towards him,
with such a chorus of horrible squealing as made him clap
both hands to his ears. And yet they did not seem to know
what they wanted, nor whether they were merely hungry,
156
or miserable from some other cause. It was curious, in
the midst of their distress, to observe them thrusting their
noses into the mire, in quest of something to eat. The
nymph with the bodice of oaken bark (she was the hama-
dryad of an oak) threw a handful of acorns among them;
and the two and twenty hogs scrambled and fought for the
prize, as if they had tasted not so much as a noggin of sour
milk for a twelvemonth.
"These must certainly be my comrades," said Ulysses.
"I recognize their dispositions. They are hardly worth the
trouble of changing them into the human form again.
Nevertheless, we will have it done, lest their bad example
should corrupt the other hogs. Let them take their original
shapes, therefore, Dame Circe, if your skill is equal to the
task. It will require greater magic, I trow, than it did to
make swine of them."
So Circe waved her wand again, and repeated a few
magic words, at the sound of which the two and twenty hogs
pricked up their pendulous ears. It was a wonder to
behold how their snouts grew shorter and shorter, and their
mouths (which they seemed to be sorry for, because they
could not gobble so expeditiously) smaller and smaller, and
how one and another began to stand upon his hind legs, and
scratch his nose with his fore trotters. At first the spec-
tators hardly knew whether to call them hogs or men, but
by and by came to the conclusion that they rather resembled
Ifftftffiffiifftffff
157
the latter. Finally, there stood the twenty-two comrades of
Ulysses, looking pretty much the same as when they left
the vessel.
You must not imagine, however, that the swinish quality
had entirely gone out of them. When once it fastens itself
into a person's character, it is very difficult getting rid of
it. This was proved by the hamadryad, who, being exceed-
ingly fond of mischief, threw another handful of acorns
before the twenty-two newly restored people; whereupon
down they wallowed, in a moment, and gobbled them up in
a very shameful way. Then, recollecting themselves, they
scrambled to their feet, and looked more than commonly
foolish.
"Thanks, noble Ulysses !" they cried. "From brute beasts
you have restored us to the condition of men again."
"Do not put yourselves to the trouble of thanking me,"
said the wise king. "I fear I have done but little for you."
To say the truth, there was a suspicious kind of a grunt
in their voices, and, for a long time afterwards, they spoke
gruffly, and were apt to set up a squeal.
"It must depend on your own future behavior," added
Ulysses, "whether you do not find your way back to the sty."
At this moment, the note of a bird sounded from the
branch of a neighboring tree.
"Peep, peep, pe wee ep !"
It was the purple bird, who, all this while, had been sitting
158
over their heads, watching what was going forward, and
hoping that Ulysses would remember how he had done his
utmost to keep him and his followers out of harm's way.
Ulysses ordered Circe instantly to make a king of this good
little fowl and leave him exactly as she had found him.
Hardly were the words spoken and before the bird had time
to utter another "pe weep," King Picus leaped down from
the bough of the tree, as majestic a sovereign as any in the
world, dressed in a long purple robe and gorgeous yellow
stockings, with a splendidly wrought collar about his neck,
and a golden crown upon his head. He and King Ulysses
exchanged with one another the courtesies which belonged
to their elevated rank. But from that time forth, King Picus
was no longer proud of his crown and his trappings of roy-
alty nor of the fact of his being a king ; he felt himself merely
the upper servant of his people, and that it must be his life-
long labor to make them better and happier.
As for the lions, tigers, and wolves, (though Circe would
have restored them to their former shapes at his slightest
word,) Ulysses thought it advisable that they should remain
as they now were, and thus give warning of their cruel dis-
positions, instead of going about under the guise of men,
and pretending to human sympathies, while their hearts
had the bloodthirstiness of wild beasts. So he let them howl
as much as they liked, but never troubled his head about
them. And, when everything was settled according to his
159
W W, ^^"|^^^%gr^ff|r
pleasure, he sent to summon the remainder of his comrades,
whom he had left at the sea shore. These being arrived,
with the prudent Eurylochus at their head, they all made
themselves comfortable in Circe's enchanted palace, until
quite rested and refreshed from the toils and hardships of
their voyage.
160
Che
POMEGRANATE SEEDS
THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS
MOTHER CERES was exceedingly fond of her
daughter Proserpina, and seldom let her go
alone into the fields. But, just at the time when
my story begins, the good lady was very busy, because she
had the care of the wheat, and the Indian corn, and the rye
and barley, and, in short, of the crops of every kind, all
over the earth ; and as the season had thus far been uncom-
monly backward, it was necessary to make the harvest ripen
more speedily than usual. So she put on her turban, made
of poppies, (a kind of flower which she was always noted
for wearing,) and got into her car drawn by a pair of winged
dragons, and was just ready to set off.
"Dear mother," said Proserpina, "I shall be very lonely
while you are away. May I not run down to the shore, and
ask some of the sea nymphs to come up out of the waves
and play with me?"
161
"Yes, child," answered Mother Ceres. "The sea nymphs
are good creatures, and will never lead you into any harm.
But you must take care not to stray away from them, nor go
wandering about the fields by yourself. Young girls with-
out their mothers to take care of them, are very apt to get
into mischief."
The child promised to be as prudent as if she were a
grown-up woman; and, by the time the winged dragons
had whirled the car out of sight, she was already on the
shore, calling to the sea nymphs to come and play with her.
They knew Proserpina's voice, and were not long in show-
ing their glistening faces and sea-green hair above the water,
at the bottom of which was their home. They brought
along with them a great many beautiful shells; and sitting
down on the moist sand, where the surf wave broke over
them, they busied themselves in making a necklace, which
they hung round Proserpina's neck. By way of showing
her gratitude, the child besought them to go with her a little
way into the fields, so that they might gather abundance
of flowers, with which she would make each of her kind
playmates a wreath.
"O, no, dear Proserpina," cried the sea nymphs; "we dare
not go with you upon the dry land. We are apt to grow
faint, unless at every breath we can snuff up the salt breeze
of the ocean. And don't you see how careful we are to let
the surf wave break over us every moment or two, so as to
162
THEY BROUGHT ALONG WITH THEM A GREAT MANY BEAUTIFUL SHELLS
-
ii-
keep ourselves comfortably moist? If it were not for that,
we should soon look like bunches of uprooted seaweed
dried in the sun."
"It is a great pity," said Proserpina. "But do you wait
for me here, and I will run and gather my apron full of
flowers, and be back again before the surf wave has broken
ten times over you. I long to make you some wreaths that
shall be as lovely as this necklace of many-colored shells."
"We shall wait, then," answered the sea nymphs. "But,
while you are gone, we may as well lie down on a bank of
soft sponge, under the water. The air to-day is a little too
dry for our comfort. But we will pop up our heads every
few minutes to see if you are coming."
The young Proserpina ran quickly to a spot where, only
the day before, she had seen a great many flowers. These,
however, were now a little past their bloom; and wishing
to give her friends the freshest and loveliest blossoms, she
strayed farther into the fields, and found some that made her
scream with delight. Never had she met with such ex-
quisite flowers before violets so large and fragrant roses,
with so rich and delicate a blush such superb hyacinths
and such aromatic pinks and many others, some of which
seemed to be of new shapes and colors. Two or three times,
moreover, she could not help thinking that a tuft of most
splendid flowers had suddenly sprouted out of the earth
before her very eyes, as if on purpose to tempt her a few
163
steps farther. Proserpina's apron was soon filled and brim-
ming over with delightful blossoms. She was on the point
of turning back in order to rejoin the sea nymphs, and sit
with them on the moist sands, all twining wreaths together.
But, a little farther on, what should she behold? It was
a large shrub, completely covered with the most magnificent
flowers in the world.
"The darlings!" cried Proserpina; and then she thought
to herself, "I was looking at that spot only a moment ago.
How strange it is that I did not see the flowers !"
The nearer she approached the shrub, the more attractive
it looked, until she came quite close to it; and then, although
its beauty was richer than words can tell, she hardly knew
whether to like it or not. It bore above a hundred flowers
of the most brilliant hues, and each different from the others,
but all having a kind of resemblance among themselves,
which showed them to be sister blossoms. But there was a
deep, glossy luster on the leaves of the shrub, and on the
petals of the flowers, that made Proserpina doubt whether
they might not be poisonous. To tell you the truth, foolish
as it may seem, she was half inclined to turn round and run
away.
"What a silly child I am!" thought she, taking courage.
"It is really the most beautiful shrub that ever sprang out
of the earth. I will pull it up by the roots, and carry it
home, and plant it in my mother's garden."
164
Holding up her apron full of flowers with her left hand,
Proserpina seized the large shrub with the other, and pulled,
and pulled, but was hardly able to loosen the soil about
its roots. What a deep-rooted plant it was! Again the
girl pulled with all her might, and observed that the earth
began to stir and crack to some distance around the stem.
She gave another pull, but relaxed her hold, fancying that
there was a rumbling sound right beneath her feet. Did
the roots extend down into some enchanted cavern? Then,
laughing at herself for so childish a notion, she made an-
other effort: up came the shrub, and Proserpina staggered
back, holding the stem triumphantly in her hand, and gazing
at the deep hole which its roots had left in the soil.
Much to her astonishment, this hole kept spreading wider
and wider, and growing deeper and deeper, until it really
seemed to have no bottom; and all the while, there came a
rumbling noise out of its depths, louder and louder, and
nearer and nearer, and sounding like the tramp of horses'
hoofs and the rattling of wheels. Too much frightened to
run away she stood straining her eyes into this wonderful
cavity, and soon saw a team of four sable horses, snorting
smoke out of their nostrils, and tearing their way out of the
earth with a splendid golden chariot whirling at their heels.
They leaped out of the bottomless hole, chariot and all ; and
there they were, tossing their black manes, flourishing their
black tails, and curvetting with every one of their hoofs
II II
165
off the ground at once, close by the spot where Proserpina
stood. In the chariot sat the figure of a man, richly dressed,
with a crown on his head, all flaming with diamonds. He
was of a noble aspect, and rather handsome, but looked
sullen and discontented; and he kept rubbing his eyes and
shading them with his hand, as if he did not live enough
in the sunshine to be very fond of its light.
As soon as this personage saw the affrighted Proserpina,
he beckoned her to come a little nearer.
"Do not be afraid," said he, with as cheerful a smile as
he knew how to put on. "Come. Will not you like to ride
a little way with me in my beautiful chariot?"
But Proserpina was so alarmed, that she wished for
nothing but to get out of his reach. And no wonder. The
stranger did not look remarkably good natured, in spite
of his smile; and as for his voice, its tones were deep and
stern, and sounded as much like the rumbling of an earth-
quake under ground as anything else. As is always the case
with children in trouble, Proserpina's first thought was to
call for her mother.
"Mother, Mother Ceres!" cried she, all in a tremble.
"Come quickly and save me."
But her voice was too faint for her mother to hear. In-
deed, it is most probable that Ceres was then a thousand
miles off, making the corn grow in some far distant country.
Nor could it have availed her poor daughter, even had she
166
been within hearing; for no sooner did Proserpina begin
to cry out, than the stranger leaped to the ground, caught
the child in his arms, and again mounting the chariot, shook
the reins, and shouted to the four black horses to set off.
They immediately broke into so swift a gallop, that it seemed
rather like flying through the air than running along the
earth. In a moment, Proserpina lost sight of the pleasant
vale of Enna, in which she had always dwelt. Another
instant, and even the summit of Mount ^tna had become
so blue in the distance, that she could scarcely distinguish
it from the smoke that gushed out of its crater. But still
the poor child screamed, and scattered her apron full of
flowers along the way, and left a long cry trailing behind
the chariot; and many mothers, to whose ears it came, ran
quickly to see if any mischief had befallen their children.
But Mother Ceres was a great way off, and could .not hear
the cry.
As they rode on, the stranger did his best to soothe her.
"Why should you be so frightened, my pretty child?"
said he, trying to soften his rough voice. "I promise not
to do you any harm. What! You have been gathering
flowers? Wait till we come to my palace, and I will give
you a garden full of prettier flowers than those, all made
of pearls, and diamonds, and rubies. Can you guess who I
am? They call my name Pluto; and I am the king of
diamonds and all other precious stones. Every atom of the
167
gold and silver that lies under the earth belongs to me, to say
nothing of the copper and iron, and of the coal mines, which
supply me with abundance of fuel. Do you see this splendid
crown upon my head? You may have it for a plaything.
O, we shall be very good friends, and you will find me more
agreeable than you expect, when once we get out of this
troublesome sunshine."
"Let me go home!" cried Proserpina. "Let me go
home!"
"My home is better than your mother's," answered King
Pluto. "It is a palace, all made of gold, with crystal win-
dows; and because there is little or no sunshine thereabouts,
the apartments are illuminated with diamond lamps. You
never saw anything half so magnificent as my throne. If
you like, you may sit down on it, and be my little queen,
and I will sit on the footstool."
"I don't care for golden palaces and thrones," sobbed
Proserpina. "O my mother, my mother ! Carry me back
to my mother!"
But King Pluto, as he called himself, only shouted to his
steeds to go faster.
"Pray do not be foolish, Proserpina," said he, in rather
a sullen tone. "I offer you my palace and my crown, and
all the riches that are under the earth ; and you treat me as
if I were doing you an injury. The one thing which my
palace needs is a merry little maid, to run up stairs and down,
168
and cheer up the rooms with her smile. And this is what
you must do for King Pluto."
"Never!" answered Proserpina, looking as miserable as
she could. "I shall never smile again till you set me down
at my mother's door."
But she might just as well have talked to the wind that
whistled past them; for Pluto urged on his horses, and went
faster than ever. Proserpina continued to cry out, and
screamed so long and so loudly, that her poor little voice
was almost screamed away; and when it was nothing but
a whisper, she happened to cast her eyes over a great, broad
field of waving grain and whom do you think she saw?
Who, but Mother Ceres, making the corn grow, and too
busy to notice the golden chariot as it went rattling along.
The child mustered all her strength, and gave one more
scream, but was out of sight before Ceres had time to turn
her head.
King Pluto had taken a road which now began to grow
excessively gloomy. It was bordered on each side with
rocks and precipices, between which the rumbling of the
chariot wheels was reverberated with a noise like rolling
thunder. The trees and bushes that grew in the crevices
of the rocks had very dismal foliage; and by and by, al-
though it was hardly noon, the air became obscured with
a gray twilight. The black horses had rushed along so
swiftly, that they were already beyond the limits of the sun-
169
shine. But the duskier it grew, the more did Pluto's visage
assume an air of satisfaction. After all, he was not an ill-
looking person, especially when he left off twisting his
features into a smile that did not belong to them. Proser-
pina peeped at his face through the gathering dusk, and
hoped that he might not be so very wicked as she at first
thought him.
"Ah, this twilight is truly refreshing," said King Pluto,
''after being so tormented with that ugly and impertinent
glare of the sun. How much more agreeable is lamplight
or torchlight, more particularly when reflected from dia-
monds! It will be a magnificent sight, when we get to my
palace."
"Is it much farther?" asked Proserpina. "And will you
carry me back when I have seen it?"
"We will talk of that by and by," answered Pluto. "We
are just entering my dominions. Do you see that tall gate-
way before us? When we pass those gates, we are at home.
And there lies my faithful mastiff at the threshold. Cer-
berus ! Cerberus ! Come hither, my good dog !"
So saying, Pluto pulled at the reins, and stopped the
chariot right between the tall, massive pillars of the gateway.
The mastiff of which he had spoken got up from the thres-
hold, and stood on his hinder legs, so as to put his fore paws
on the chariot wheel. But, my stars, what a strange dog it
was ! Why, he was a big, rough, ugly-looking monster, with
170
three separate heads, and each of them fiercer than the two
others; but fierce as they were, King Pluto patted them all.
He seemed as fond of his three-headed dog as if it had been' a
sweet little spaniel, with silken ears and curly hair.
Cerberus, on the other hand, was evidently rejoiced to see his
master, and expressed his attachment, as other dogs do, by
wagging his tail at a great rate. Proserpina's eyes being
drawn to it by its brisk motion, she saw that this tail was
neither more nor less than a live dragon, with fiery eyes, and
fangs that had a very poisonous aspect. And while the
three-headed Cerberus was fawning so lovingly on King
Pluto, there was the dragon tail wagging against its will, and
looking as cross and ill natured as you can imagine, on its
own separate account.
"Will the dog bite me?" asked Proserpina shrinking
closer to Pluto. "What an ugly creature he is !"
"O, never fear," answered her companion. "He never
harms people, unless they try to enter my dominions without
being sent for, or to get away when I wish to keep them here.
Down, Cerberus! Now, my pretty Proserpina, we will
drive on."
On went the chariot, and King Pluto seemed greatly
pleased to find himself once more in his own kingdom. He
drew Proserpina's attention to the rich veins of gold that
were to be seen among the rocks, and pointed to several
places where one stroke of a pickaxe would loosen a bushel
171
of diamonds. All along the road, indeed, there were spark-
ling gems, which would have been of inestimable value
above ground, but which here were reckoned of the meaner
sort, and hardly worth a beggar's stooping for.
Not far from the gateway, they came to a bridge, which
seemed to be built of iron. Pluto stopped the chariot, and
bade Proserpina look at the stream which was gliding so
lazily beneath it. Never in her life had she beheld so torpid,
so black, so muddy-looking a stream: its waters reflected no
images of any thing that was on the banks, and it moved as
sluggishly as if it had quite forgotten which way it ought to
flow, and had rather stagnate than flow either one way or the
other.
"This is the River Lethe," observed King Pluto. "Is it
not a very pleasant stream?"
"I think it a very dismal one," said Proserpina.
"It suits my taste, however," answered Pluto, who was apt
to be sullen when anybody disagreed with him. "At all
events, its water has one very excellent quality ; for a single
draught of it makes people forget every care and sorrow that
has hitherto tormented them. Only sip a little of it, my dear
Proserpina, and you will instantly cease to grieve for your
mother, and will have nothing in your memory that can
prevent your being perfectly happy in my palace. I will
send for some, in a golden goblet, the moment we arrive."
"O, no, no, no!" cried Proserpina, weeping afresh. "I
172
had a thousand times rather be miserable with remembering
my mother, than be happy in forgetting her. That dear,
dear mother ! I never, never will forget her."
"We shall see," said King Pluto. "You do not know
what fine times we will have in my palace. Here we are
just at the portal. These pillars are solid gold, I assure
you."
He alighted from the chariot, and taking Proserpina in his
arms, carried her up a lofty flight of steps into the great hall
of the palace. It was splendidly illuminated by means of
large precious stones, of various hues, which seemed to burn
like so many lamps, and glowed with a hundred fold
radiance all through the vast apartment. And yet there was
a kind of gloom in the midst of this enchanted light ; nor was
there a single object in the hall that was really agreeable to
behold, except the little Proserpina herself, a lovely child,
with one earthly flower which she had not let fall from her
hand. It is my opinion that even King Pluto had never
been happy in his palace and that this was the true reason
why he had stolen away Proserpina, in order that he might
have something to love, instead of cheating his heart any
longer with this tiresome magnificence. And though he
pretended to dislike the sunshine of the upper world, yet the
effect of the child's presence, bedimmed as she was by her
tears, was as if a faint and watery sunbeam had somehow or
other found its way into the enchanted hall.
Pluto now summoned his domestics, and bade them lose
no time in preparing a most sumptuous banquet, and above
all things, not to fail of setting a golden beaker of the water
of Lethe by Proserpina's plate.
"I will neither drink that nor anything else," said Pro-
serpina. "Nor will I taste a morsel of food, even if you
keep me forever in your palace."
"I should be sorry for that," replied King Pluto, patting
her cheek; for he really wished to be kind, if he had only
known how. "You are a spoiled child, I perceive, my little
Proserpina; but when you see the nice things which my
cook will make for you, your appetite will quickly come
again."
Then, sending for the head cook, he gave strict orders
that all sorts of delicacies, such as young people are usually
fond of, should be set before Proserpina. He had a secret
motive in this; for you are to understand, it is a fixed law,
that, when persons are carried off to the land of magic, if
they once taste any food there, they can never get back to
their friends. Now, if King Pluto had been cunning
enough to offer Proserpina some fruit, or bread and milk,
(which was the simple fare to which the child had always
been accustomed,) it is very probable that she would soon
have been tempted to eat it. But he left the matter entirely
to his cook, who, like all other cooks, considered nothing fit
to eat unless it were rich pastry, or highly-seasoned meat, or
174
spiced sweet cakes things which Proserpina's mother had
never given her, and the smell of which quite took away her
appetite, instead of sharpening it.
But my story must now clamber out of King Pluto's
dominions, and see what Mother Ceres has been about, since
she was bereft of her daughter. We had a glimpse of her,
while the four black steeds were swiftly whirling along the
chariot, in which her beloved Proserpina was so unwillingly
borne away. You recollect, too, the loud scream which
Proserpina gave, just when the chariot was out of sight.
Of all the child's outcries, this last shriek was the only
one that reached the ears of Mother Ceres. She had mis-
taken the rumbling of the chariot wheels for a peal of thun-
der, and imagined that a shower was coming up, and that
it would assist her in making the corn grow. But, at the
sound of Proserpina's shriek, she started, and looked about
in every direction, not knowing whence it came, but feeling
almost certain that it was her daughter's voice. It seemed
so unaccountable, however, that the girl should have strayed
over so many lands and seas, (which she herself could not
have traversed without the aid of her winged dragons,) that
the good Ceres tried to believe that it must be the child of
some other parent, and not her own darling Proserpina,
who had uttered this lamentable cry. Nevertheless, it
troubled her with a vast many tender fears, such as are ready
to bestir themselves in every mother's heart, when she finds
175
it necessary to go away from her dear children without leav-
ing them under the care of some maiden aunt, or other such
faithful guardian. So she quickly left the field in which
she had been so busy ; and, as her work was not half done,
the grain looked, next day, as if it needed both sun and rain,
and as if it were blighted in the ear, and had something the
matter with its roots.
The pair of dragons must have had very nimble wings;
for, in less than an hour, Mother Ceres had alighted at the
door of her home, and found it empty. Knowing, however,
that the child was fond of sporting on the sea shore, she
hastened thither as fast as she could, and there beheld the
wet faces of the poor sea nymphs peeping over a wave. All
this while, the good creatures had been waiting on the bank
of sponge, and, once every half minute or so, had popped
up their four heads above water, to see if their playmate
were yet coming back. When they saw Mother Ceres, they
sat down on the crest of the surf wave, and let it toss them
ashore at her feet.
"Where is Proserpina?" cried Ceres. "Where is my
child? Tell me, you naughty sea nymphs, have you en-
ticed her under the sea?"
"O, no, good Mother Ceres," said the innocent sea
nymphs, tossing back their green ringlets, and looking her
in the face. "We never should dream of such a thing.
Proserpina has been at play with us, it is true; but she left
us a long while ago, meaning only to run a little way upon
the dry land, and gather some flowers for a wreath. This
was early in the day, and we have seen nothing of her since."
Ceres scarcely waited to hear what the nymphs had to
say, before she hurried off to make inquiries all through
the neighborhood. But nobody told her anything that could
enable the poor mother to guess what had become of Pro-
serpina. A fisherman, it is true, had noticed her little
footprints in the sand, as he went homeward along the beach
with a basket of fish; a rustic had seen the child stooping
to gather flowers; several persons had heard either the rat-
tling of chariot wheels, or the rumble of distant thunder;
and one old woman, while plucking vervain and catnip,
had heard a scream, but supposed it to be some childish
nonsense, and therefore did not take the trouble to look up.
The stupid people! It took them such a tedious while to
tell the nothing that they knew, that it was dark night before
Mother Ceres found out that she must seek her daughter
elsewhere. So she lighted a torch, and set forth, resolving
never to come back until Proserpina was discovered.
In her haste and trouble of mind, she quite forgot her
car and the winged dragons; or, it may be, she thought that
she could follow up the search more thoroughly on foot.
At all events, this was the way in which she began her sor-
rowful journey, holding her torch before her, and looking
carefully at every object along the path. And as it hap-
177
pened, she had not gone far before she found one of the
magnificent flowers which grew on the shrub that Proser-
pina had pulled up.
"Ha!" thought Mother Ceres, examining it by torchlight.
"Here is mischief in this flower! The earth did not pro-
duce it by any help of mine, nor of its own accord. It is
the work of enchantment, and is therefore poisonous; and
perhaps it has poisoned my poor child."
But she put the poisonous flower in her bosom, not know-
ing whether she might ever find any other memorial of
Proserpina.
All night long, at the door of every cottage and farm
house, Ceres knocked, and called up the weary laborers to
inquire if they had seen her child; and they stood, gaping
and half asleep, at the threshold, and answered her pityingly,
and besought her to come in and rest. At the portal of
every palace, too, she made so loud a summons that the
menials hurried to throw open the gate, thinking that it must
be some great king or queen, who would demand a banquet
for supper and a stately chamber to repose in. And when
they saw only a sad and anxious woman, with a torch in
her hand and a wreath of withered poppies on her head,
jthey spoke rudely, and sometimes threatened to set the dogs
upon her. But nobody had seen Proserpina, nor could give
Mother Ceres the least hint which way to seek her. Thus
passed the night; and still she continued her search without
178
sitting down to rest or stopping to take food, or even remem-
bering to put out the torch; although first the rosy dawn
and then the glad light of the morning sun made its red
flame look thin and pale. But I wonder what sort of stuff
this torch was made of; for it burned dimly through the day,
and, at night was as bright as ever, and never was extin-
guished by the rain or wind, in all the weary days and nights
while Ceres was seeking for Proserpina.
It was not merely of human beings that she asked tidings
of her daughter. In the woods and by the streams, she met
creatures of another nature, who used, in those old times,
to haunt the pleasant and solitary places, and were very
sociable with persons who understood their language and
customs, as Mother Ceres did. Sometimes, for instance,
she tapped with her finger against the knotted trunk of a
majestic oak; and immediately its rude bark would cleave
asunder, and forth would step a beautiful maiden, who was
the hamadryad of the oak, dwelling inside of it, and sharing
its long life, and rejoicing when its green leaves sported
with the breeze. But not one of these leafy damsels had
seen Proserpina. Then, going a little farther, Ceres would,
perhaps, come to a fountain, gushing out of a pebbly hollow
in the earth, and would dabble with her hand in the water.
Behold, up through its sandy and pebbly bed, along with
the fountain's gush, a young woman with dripping hair
would arise, and stand gazing at Mother Ceres, half out
II
179
of the water, and undulating up and down with its ever-
restless motion. But when the mother asked whether her
poor lost child had stopped to drink out of the fountain,
the naiad, with weeping eyes, (for these water nymphs had
tears to spare for everybody's grief,) would answer "No!"
in a murmuring voice, which was just like the murmur of
the stream.
Often, likewise, she encountered fauns, who looked like
sunburnt country people, except that they had hairy ears,
and little horns upon their foreheads, and the hinder legs
of goats, on which they gambolled merrily about the woods
and fields. They were a frolicsome kind of creature, but
grew as sad as their cheerful dispositions would allow, when
Ceres inquired for her daughter, and they had no good news
to tell. But sometimes she came suddenly upon a rude gang
of satyrs, who had faces like monkeys, and horses' tails
behind them, and who were generally dancing in a very
boisterous manner, with shouts of noisy laughter. When she
stopped to question them, they would only laugh the louder,
and make new merriment out of the lone woman's distress.
How unkind of those ugly satyrs! And once, while .cross-
ing a solitary sheep pasture, she saw a personage named
Pan, seated at the foot of a tall rock, and making music
on a shepherd's flute. He, too, had horns, and hairy ears,
and goat's feet; but, being acquainted with Mother Ceres,
he answered her question as civilly as he knew how, and
180
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invited her to taste some milk and honey out of a wooden
bowl. But neither could Pan tell her what had become of
Proserpina, any better than the rest of these wild people.
And thus Mother Ceres went wandering about for nine
long days and nights, finding no trace of Proserpina, unless
it were now and then a withered flower ; and these she picked
up and put into her bosom, because she fancied that they
might have fallen from her poor child's hand. All day she
travelled onward through the hot sun; and at night, again,
the flame of the torch would redden and gleam along the
pathway, and she continued her search by its light, without
ever sitting down to rest.
On the tenth day, she chanced to espy the mouth of a
cavern, within which (though it was bright noon everywhere
else) there would have been only a dusky twilight; but it
so happened that a torch was burning there. It flickered,
and struggled with the duskiness, but could not half light
up the gloomy cavern with all its melancholy glimmer.
Ceres was resolved to leave no spot without a search ; so she
peeped into the entrance of the cave, and lighted it up a
little more, by holding her own torch before her. In so
doing, she caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a woman,
sitting on the brown leaves of the last autumn, a great heap
of which had been swept into the cave by the wind. This
woman (if woman it were) was by no means so beautiful
as many of her sex ; for her head, they tell me, was shaped
181
So she peeped into the entrance of the cave.
very much like a dog's, and, by way of ornament, she wore
a wreath of snakes around it. But Mother Ceres, the mo-
ment she saw her, knew that this was an odd kind of a person,
who put all her enjoyment in being miserable, and never
would have a word to say to other people, unless they were
as melancholy and wretched as she herself delighted to be.
"I am wretched enough now," thought poor Ceres, "to
182
talk with this melancholy Hecate, were she ten times sadder
than ever she was yet."
So she stepped into the cave, and sat down on the withered
leaves by the dog-headed woman's side. In all the world,
since her daughter's loss, she had found no other companion.
"O Hecate," said she, "if ever you lose a daughter, you
will know what sorrow is. Tell me, for pity's sake, have
you seen my poor child Proserpina pass by the mouth of
your cavern?"
"No," answered Hecate, in a cracked voice, and sighing
betwixt every word or two; "no, Mother Ceres, I have seen
nothing of your daughter. But my ears, you must know,
are made in such a way, that all cries of distress and affright,
all over the world, are pretty sure to find their way to them;
and nine days ago, as I sat in my cave, making myself very
miserable, I heard the voice of a young girl, shrieking as if
in great distress. Something terrible has happened to the
child, you may rest assured. As well as I could judge, a
dragon, or some other cruel monster was carrying her
away."
"You kill me by saying so," cried Ceres, almost ready
to faint. "Where was the sound, and which way did it seem
to go?"
"It passed very swiftly along," said Hecate, "and, at the
same time, there was a heavy rumbling of wheels towards
183
the eastward. I can tell you nothing more, except that, in
my honest opinion, you will never see your daughter again.
The best advice I can give you is, to take up your abode
in this cavern, where we will be the two most wretched
women in the world."
"Not yet, dark Hecate," replied Ceres. "But do you
first come with your torch, and help me to seek for my lost
child. And when there shall be no more hope of finding
her, (if that black day is ordained to come,) then, if you
will give me room to fling myself down, either on these
withered leaves or on the naked rock, I will show you what
it is to be miserable. But, until I know that she has perished
from the face of the earth, I will not allow myself space even
to grieve."
The dismal Hecate did not much like the idea of going
abroad into the sunny world. But then she reflected that
the sorrow of the disconsolate Ceres would be like a gloomy
twilight round about them both, let the sun shine ever so
brightly, and that therefore she might enjoy her bad spirits
quite as well as if she were to stay in the cave. So she finally
consented to go, and they set out together, both carrying
torches, although it was broad daylight and clear sunshine.
The torchlight seemed to make a gloom ; so that the people
whom they met, along the road, could not very distinctly
see their figures; and, indeed, if they once caught a glimpse
184
of Hecate, with the wreath of snakes round her forehead,
they generally thought it prudent to run away, without
waiting for a second glance.
As the pair travelled along in this woe-begone manner,
a thought struck Ceres.
"There is one person," she exclaimed, "who must have
seen my poor child, and can doubtless tell what has become
of her. Why did not I think of him before? It is Phoebus."
"What," said Hecate, "the young man that always sits
in the sunshine? O, pray do not think of going near him.
He is a gay, light, frivolous young fellow, and will only
smile in your face. And besides, there is such a glare of
the sun about him, that he will quite blind my poor eyes,
which I have almost wept away already."
"You have promised to be my companion," answered
Ceres. "Come, let us make haste, or the sunshine will be
gone, and Phoebus along with it."
Accordingly they went along in quest of Phoebus, both
of them sighing grievously, and Hecate, to say the truth,
making a great deal worse lamentation than Ceres ; for all
the pleasure she had, you know, lay in being miserable and
therefore she made the most of it. By and by, after a pretty
long journey, they arrived at the sunniest spot in the whole
world. There they beheld a beautiful young man, with
long, curling ringlets, which seemed to be made of golden
sunbeams; his garments were like light summer clouds; and
185
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They arrived at the sunniest spot in the world.
the expression of his face so exceedingly vivid, that Hecate
held her hands before her eyes, muttering that he ought to
wear a black veil. Phoebus (for this was the very person
whom they were seeking) had a lyre in his hands, and was
making its chords tremble with sweet music ; at the same
time singing a most exquisite song, which he had recently
composed. For, besides a great many other accomplish-
186
ftitififttftffiffffl
ments, this young man was renowned for his admirable
poetry.
As Ceres and her dismal companion approached him,
Phoebus smiled on them so cheerfully that Hecate's wreath
of snakes gave a spiteful hiss, and Hecate heartily wished
herself back in her cave. But as for Ceres, she was too
earnest in her grief either to know or care whether Phoebus
smiled or frowned.
"Phoebus!" exclaimed she, "I am in great trouble, and
have come to you for assistance. Can you tell me what has
become of my dear child Proserpina?"
"Proserpina! Proserpina, did you call her name?" an-
swered Phoebus, endeavoring to recollect, for there was such
a continual flow of pleasant ideas in his mind that he was
apt to forget what had happened no longer than yesterday.
"Ah, yes, I remember her now. A very lovely child indeed.
I am happy to tell you, my dear madam, that I did see the
little Proserpina not many days ago. You may make your-
self perfectly easy about her. She is safe, and in excellent
hands."
"O, where is my dear child?" cried Ceres, clasping her
hands and flinging herself at his feet.
"Why," said Phoebus, and as he spoke, he kept touching
his lyre so as to make a thread of music run in and out
among his words, "as the little damsel was gathering
flowers, (and she has really a very exquisite taste for
187
flowers,) she was suddenly snatched up by King Pluto, and
carried off to his dominions. I have never been in that part
of the universe ; but the royal palace, I am told, is built in
a very noble style of architecture, and of the most splendid
and costly materials. Gold, diamonds, pearls, and all man-
ner of precious stones, will be your daughter's ordinary
playthings. I recommend to you, my dear lady, to give
yourself no uneasiness. Proserpina's sense of beauty will
be duly gratified, and, even in spite of the lack of sunshine,
she will lead a very enviable life."
"Hush! Say not such a word!" answered Ceres, indig-
nantly. "What is there to gratify her heart? What are
all the splendors you speak of, without affection? I must
have her back again. Will you go with me, Phoebus, to
demand my daughter of this wicked Pluto?"
"Pray excuse me," replied Phoebus, with an elegant obei-
sance. "I certainly wish you success, and regret that my
own affairs are so immediately pressing that I cannot have
the pleasure of attending you. Besides, I am not upon
the best of terms with King Pluto. To tell you the truth,
his three-headed mastiff would never let me pass the gate-
way; for I should be compelled to take a sheaf of sunbeams
along with me, and those, you know, are forbidden things
in Pluto's kingdom."
"Ah, Phoebus," said Ceres, with bitter meaning in her
words, " you have a harp instead of a heart. Farewell."
188
"Will not you stay a moment," asked Phoebus, "and hear
me turn the pretty and touching story of Proserpina into
extemporary verses?"
But Ceres shook her head, and hastened away, along with
Hecate. Phoebus (who, as I have told you, was an exqui-
site poet) forthwith began to make an ode about the poor
mother's grief; and, if we were to judge of his sensibility
by this beautiful production, he must have been endowed
with a very tender heart. But when a poet gets into the
habit of using his heartstrings to make chords for his lyre,
he may thrum upon them as much as he will, without any
great pain to himself. Accordingly, though Phoebus sang
a very sad song, he was as merry all the while as were the
sunbeams amid which he dwelt.
Poor Mother Ceres had now found out what had become
of her daughter, but was not a whit happier than before.
Her case, on the contrary, looked more desperate than ever.
As long as Proserpina was above ground, there might have
been hopes of regaining her. But now that the poor child
was shut up within the iron gates of the king of the mines,
at the threshold of which lay the three-headed Cerberus,
there seemed no possibility of her ever making her escape.
The dismal Hecate, who loved to take the darkest view of
things, told Ceres that she had better come with her to the
cavern, and spend the rest of her life in being miserable.
Ceres answered that Hecate was welcome to go back thither
189
II
herself, but that, for her part, she would wander about the
earth in quest of the entrance to King Pluto's dominions.
And Hecate took her at her word, and hurried back to her
beloved cave, frightening a great many little children with
a glimpse of her dog's face, as she went.
Poor Mother Ceres! It is melancholy to think of her,
pursuing her toilsome way, all alone, and holding up that
never-dying torch, the flame of which seemed an emblem
of the grief and hope that burned together in her heart. So
much did she suffer, that, though her aspect had been quite
youthful when her troubles began, she grew to look like
an elderly person in a very brief time. She cared not how
she was dressed, nor had she ever thought of flinging away
the wreath of withered poppies, which she put on the very
morning of Proserpina's disappearance. She roamed about
in so wild a way, and with her hair so dishevelled, that people
took her for some distracted creature, and never dreamed
that this was Mother Ceres, who had the oversight of every
seed which the husbandman planted. Nowadays, however,
she gave herself no trouble about seed time nor harvest, but
left the farmers to take care of their own affairs, and the
crops to fade or flourish, as the case might be. There was
nothing, now, in which Ceres seemed to feel an interest,
unless when she saw children at play, or gathering flowers
along the wayside. Then, indeed, she would stand and
gaze at them with tears in her eyes. The children, too,
190
appeared to have a sympathy with her grief, and would
cluster themselves in a little group about her knees, and
look up wistfully in her face; and Ceres, after giving them
a kiss all round, would lead them to their homes, and advise
their mothers never to let them stray out of sight.
"For if they do," said she, "it may happen to you, as it
has to me, that the iron-hearted King Pluto will take a liking
to your darlings, and snatch them up in his chariot, and
carry them away."
One day, during her pilgrimage in quest of the entrance
to Pluto's kingdom, she came to the palace of King Celeus,
who reigned at Eleusis. Ascending a lofty flight of steps,
she entered the portal, and found the royal household in
very great alarm about the queen's baby. The infant, it
seems, was sickly, (being troubled with its teeth, I suppose,)
and would take no food, and was all the time moaning with
pain. The queen her name was Metanira was desirous
of finding a nurse; and when she beheld a woman of ma-
tronly aspect coming up the steps, she thought in her own
mind, that here was the very person whom she needed. So
Queen Metanira ran to the door, with the poor wailing
baby in her arms, and besought Ceres to take charge of it,
or, at least, to tell her what would do it good.
"Will you trust the child entirely to me?" asked
Ceres.
"Yes, and gladly too," answered the queen, "if you will
191
devote all your time to him. For I can see that you have
been a mother."
"You are right," said Ceres. "I once had a child of my
own. Well, I will be the nurse of this poor, sickly boy.
But beware, I warn you, that you do not interfere with any
kind of treatment which I may judge proper for him. If
you do so, the poor infant must suffer for his mother's
folly."
Then she kissed the child, and it seemed to do him good,
for he smiled and nestled closely into her bosom.
So Mother Ceres set her torch in a corner, (where it kept
burning all the while,) and took up her abode in the palace
of King Celeus, as nurse to the little Princ Demophoon.
She treated him as if he were her own child, and allowed
neither the king nor the queen to say whether he should
be bathed in warm or cold water, or what he should eat,
or how often he should take the air, or when he should be
put to bed. You would hardly believe me, if I were to tell
how quickly the baby prince got rid of his ailments, and
grew fat, and rosy, and strong, and how he had two rows
of ivory teeth in less time than any other little fellow, before
or since. Instead of the palest, and wretchedest, and puniest
imp in the world, (as his own mother confessed him to be,
when Ceres first took him in charge,) he was now a strap-
ping baby, crowing, laughing, kicking up his heels, and
rolling from one end of the room to the other. All the
192
good women of the neighborhood crowded to the palace,
and held up their hands, in unutterable amazement, at the
beauty and wholesomeness of this darling little prince.
Their wonder was the greater, because he was never seen
to taste any food ; not even so much as a cup of milk.
"Pray, nurse," the queen kept saying, "how it is that you
make the child thrive so?"
"I was a mother once," Ceres always replied; "and having
nursed my own child, I know what other children need."
But Queen Metanira, as was very natural, had a great
curiosity to know precisely what the nurse did to her child.
One night, therefore, she hid herself in the chamber where
Ceres and the little prince were accustomed to sleep. There
was a fire in the chimney, and it had now crumbled into
great coals and embers, which lay glowing on the hearth,
with a blaze flickering up now and then, and flinging a
warm and ruddy light upon the walls. Ceres sat before
the hearth with the child in her lap, and the fire-light making
her shadow dance upon the ceiling overhead. She un-
dressed the little prince, and bathed him all over with some
fragrant liquid out of a vase. The next thing that she did
was to rake back the red embers, and make a hollow place
among them, just where the backlog had been. At last,
while the baby was crowing, and clapping its fat little hands,
and laughing in the nurse's face, (just as you may have seen
your little brother or sister do before going into its warm
193
bath,) Ceres suddenly laid him, all naked as he was, in the
hollow among the red-hot embers. She then raked the
ashes over him, and turned quietly away.
You may imagine, if you can, how Queen Metanira
shrieked, thinking nothing less than that her dear child
would be burned to a cinder. She burst forth from her
hiding-place, and running to the hearth, raked open the
fire, and snatched up poor little Prince Demophoon out of
his bed of live coals, one of which he was gripping in each
of his fists. He immediately set up a grievous cry, as babies
are apt to do, when rudely startled out of a sound sleep.
To the queen's astonishment and joy, she could perceive
no token of the child's being injured by the hot fire in which
he had lain. She now turned to Mother Ceres, and asked
her to explain the mystery.
"Foolish woman," answered Ceres, "did you not promise
to intrust this poor infant entirely to me? You little know
the mischief you have done him. Had you left him to my
care, he would have grown up like a child of celestial birth,
endowed with superhuman strength and intelligence, and
would have lived forever. Do you imagine that earthly
children are to become immortal without being tempered
to it in the fiercest heat of the fire? But you have ruined
your own son. For though he will be a strong man and
a hero in his day, yet, on account of your folly, he will grow
old, and finally die, like the sons of other women. The
194
weak tenderness of his mother has cost the poor boy an im-
mortality. Farewell."
Saying these words, she kissed the little Prince Demo-
phoon, and sighed to think what he had lost, and took her
departure without heeding Queen Metanira, who entreated
her to remain, and cover up the child among the hot embers
as often as she pleased. Poor baby! He never slept so
warmly again.
While she dwelt in the king's palace, Mother Ceres had
been so continually occupied with taking care of the young
prince, that her heart was a little lightened of its grief for
Proserpina. But now, having nothing else to busy herself
about, she became just as wretched as before. At length,
in her despair, she came to the dreadful resolution that not
a stalk of grain, nor a blade of grass, nor a potato, nor a
turnip, nor any other vegetable that was good for man or
beast to eat. should be suffered to grow until her daughter
were restored. She even forbade the flowers to bloom, lest
somebody's heart should be cheered by their beauty.
Now as not so much as a head of asparagus ever presumed
to poke itself out of the ground, without the especial per-
mission of Ceres, you may conceive what a terrible calamity
had here fallen upon the earth. The husbandmen ploughed
and planted as usual; but there lay the rich black furrows,
all as barren as a desert of sand. The pastures looked as
brown in the sweet month of June as ever they did in chill
8 i!
195
November. The rich man's broad acres and the cottager's
small garden patch were equally blighted. Every little
girl's flower bed showed nothing but dry stalks. The old
people shook their white heads, and said that the earth had
grown aged like themselves, and was no longer capable of
wearing the warm smile of summer on its face. It was
really piteous to see the poor, starving cattle and sheep, how
they followed behind Ceres, lowing and bleating, as if their
instinct taught them to expect help from her; and everybody
that was acquainted with her power besought her to have
mercy on the human race, and, at all events, to let the grass
grow. But Mother Ceres, though naturally of an affec-
tionate disposition, was now inexorable.
"Never," said she. "If the earth is ever again to see any
verdure it must first grow along the path which my
daughter will tread in coming back to me."
Finally, as there seemed to be no other remedy, our old
friend Quicksilver was sent post haste to King Pluto, in
hopes that he might be persuaded to undo the mischief he
had done, and to set everything right again, by giving up
Proserpina. Quicksilver accordingly made the best of his
way to the great gate, took a flying leap right over the three-
headed mastiff, and stood at the door of the palace in an
inconceivably short time. The servants knew him both by
his face and garb ; for his short cloak, and his winged cap
and shoes, and his snaky staff had often been seen there-
196
abouts in times gone by. He requested to be shown im-
mediately into the king's presence; and Pluto, who heard
his voice from the top of the stairs, and who loved to rec-
reate himself with Quicksilver's merry talk, called out to him
to come up. And while they settle their business together,
we must inquire what Proserpina has been doing ever since
we saw her last.
The child had declared as you may remember, that she
would not taste a mouthful of food as long as she should be
compelled to remain in King Pluto's palace. How she con-
trived to maintain her resolution, and at the same time to
keep herself tolerably plump and rosy, is more than I can
explain; but some young ladies, I am given to understand,
possess the faculty of living on air, and Proserpina seems to
have possessed it too. At any rate, it was now six months
since she left the outside earth; and not a morsel, so far as
the attendants were able to testify, had yet passed between
her teeth. This was the more creditable to Proserpina
inasmuch as King Pluto had caused her to be tempted day
after day, with all manner of sweetmeats, and richly-pre-
served fruits, and delicacies of every sort, such as young
people are generally most fond of. But her good mother
had often told her of the hurtfulness of these things; and
for that reason alone, if there had been no other, she would
have resolutely refused to taste them.
All this time, being of a cheerful and active disposition,
197
the little damsel was not quite so unhappy as you may have
supposed. The immense palace had a thousand rooms, and
was full of beautiful and wonderful objects. There was a
never-ceasing gloom, it is true, which had hid itself among
the innumerable pillars, gliding before the child as she
wandered among them, and treading stealthily behind her
in the echo of her footsteps. Neither was all the dazzle
of the precious stones, which flamed with their own light,
worth one gleam of natural sunshine; nor could the most
brilliant of the many-colored gems, which Proserpina had
for playthings, vie with the simple beauty of the flowers
she used to gather. But still, wherever the girl went,
among those gilded halls and chambers, it seemed as if she
carried nature and sunshine along with her and as if she
scattered dewy blossoms on her right hand and on her left.
After Proserpina came, the palace was no longer the same
abode of stately artifice and dismal magnificence that it had
before been. The inhabitants all felt this, and King Pluto
more than any of them.
"My own little Proserpina," he used to say, "I wish you
could like me a little better. We gloomy and cloudy-
natured persons have often as warm hearts, at bottom, as
those of a more cheerful character. If you would only stay
with me of your own accord, it would make me happier
than the possession of a hundred such palaces as this."
"Ah," said Proserpina, "you should have tried to make
198
me like you before carrying me off. And the best thing
you can now do is, to let me go again. Then I might re-
member you sometimes, and think that you were as kind as
you knew how to be. Perhaps, too, one day or other, I
might come back, and pay you a visit."
"No, no," answered Pluto, with his gloomy smile, "I will
not trust you for that. You are too fond of living in the
broad daylight, and gathering flowers. What an idle and
childish taste that is! Are not these gems, which I have
ordered to be dug for you, and which are richer than any
in my crown are they not prettier than a violet?"
"Not half so pretty," said Proserpina, snatching the
gems from Pluto's hand, and flinging them to the other end
of the hall. "O my sweet violets, shall I never see you
again?"
And then she burst into tears. But young people's tears
have very little saltness or acidity in them, and do not in-
flame the eyes so much as those of grown persons ; so that it
is not to be wondered at, if, a few moments afterwards,
Proserpina was sporting through the hall almost as merrily
as she and the four sea nymphs had sported along the edge of
the surf wave. King Pluto gazed after her, and wished
that he too, was a child. And little Proserpina, when she
turned about, and beheld this great king standing in his
splendid hall, and looking so grand, and so melancholy, and
so lonesome, was smitten with a kind of pity. She ran back
199
to him, and, for the first time in all her life, put her small,
soft hand in his.
"I love you a little," whispered she, looking up in his
face.
"Do you, indeed, my dear child?" cried Pluto bending
his dark face down to kiss her; but Proserpina shrank away
from the kiss, for though his features were noble, they were
very dusky and grim. "Well, I have not deserved it of you,
after keeping you a prisoner for so many months, and starv-
ing you, besides. Are you not terribly hungry? Is there
nothing which I can get you to eat?"
In asking this question, the king of the mines had a very
cunning purpose; for, you will recollect, if Proserpina
tasted a morsel of food in his dominions, she would never
afterwards be at liberty to quit them.
"No indeed," said Proserpina. "Your head cook is al-
ways baking, and stewing, and roasting, and rolling out
paste, and contriving one dish or another, which he
imagines may be to my liking. But he might just as well
save himself the trouble, poor, fat little man that he is. I
have no appetite for anything in the world, unless it were
a slice of bread, of my mother's own baking, or a little fruit
out of her garden."
When Pluto heard this, he began to see that he had mis-
taken the best method of tempting Proserpina to eat. The
cook's made dishes and artificial dainties were not half so
200
TOUCH IT I ASSURE YOU , SAIE&SHB.'; *.~5
delicious, in the good child's opinion, as the simple fare to
which Mother Ceres had accustomed her. Wondering
that he had never thought of it before, the king now sent one
of his trusty attendants, with a large basket, to get some of
the finest and juiciest pears, peaches, and plums which
could anywhere be found in the upper world. Unfortu-
nately, however, this was during the time when Ceres had
forbidden any fruits or vegetables to grow ; and, after seek-
ing all over the earth, King Pluto's servant found only a
single pomegranate, and that so dried up as to be not worth
eating. Nevertheless, since there was no better to be had,
he brought this dry, old, withered pomegranate home to the
palace, put it on a magnificent golden salver, and carried it
up to Proserpina. Now, it happened, curiously enough,
that, just as the servant was bringing the pomegranate into
the back door of the palace our friend Quicksilver had gone
up the front steps, on his errand to get Proserpina away
from King Pluto.
As soon as Proserpina saw the pomegranate on the golden
salver, she told the servant he had better take it away again.
"I shall not touch it, I assure you," said she. "If I were
ever so hungry, I should never think of eating such a miser-
able, dry pomegranate as that."
"It is the only one in the world," said the servant.
He set down the golden salver, with the wizened pome-
granate upon it, and left the room. When he was gone,
201
Proserpina could not help coming close to the table, and
looking at this poor specimen of dried fruit with a great
deal of eagerness; for, to say the truth, on seeing something
that suited her taste, she felt all the six months' appetite tak-
ing possession of her at once. To be sure, it was a very
wretched-looking pomegranate, and seemed to have no
more juice in it than an oyster shell. But there was no
choice of such things in King Pluto's palace. This was the
first fruit she had seen there, and the last she was ever likely
to see; and unless she ate it up immediately, it would grow
drier than it already was, and be wholly unfit to eat.
"At least, I may smell it," thought Proserpina.
So she took up the pomegranate, and applied it to her
nose; and somehow or other, being in such close neighbor-
hood to her mouth, the fruit found its way into that little red
cave. Dear me ! what an everlasting pity ! Before Proser-
pina knew what she was about, her teeth had actually bitten
it, of their own accord. Just as this fatal deed was done, the
door of the apartment opened, and in came King Pluto,
followed by Quicksilver, who had been urging him to let
his little prisoner go. At the first noise of their entrance,
Proserpina withdrew the pomegranate from her mouth.
But Quicksilver (whose eyes were very keen, and his wits
the sharpest that ever anybody had) perceived that the child
was a little confused; and seeing the empty salver, he sus-
pected that she had been taking a sly nibble of something or
202
ftftftftitiiiJfiffft
other. As for honest Pluto, he never guessed at the secret.
"My little Proserpina," said the king, sitting down, and
affectionately drawing her between his knees, "here is
Quicksilver, who tells me that a great many misfortunes
have befallen innocent people on account of my detaining
you in my dominions. To confess the truth, I myself had
already reflected that it was an unjustifiable act to take you
away from your good mother. But, then, you must con-
sider, my dear child, that this vast palace is apt to be gloomy,
(although the precious stones certainly shine very bright,)
and that I am not of the most cheerful disposition, and that
therefore it was a natural thing enough to seek for the
society of some merrier creature than myself. I hoped you
would take my crown for a plaything, and me ah, you
laugh, naughty Proserpina me, grim as I am, for a play-
mate. It w T as a silly expectation."
"Not so extremely silly," whispered Proserpina. "You
have really amused me very much sometimes."
"Thank you," said King Pluto, rather dryly. "But I can
see, plainly enough, that you think my palace a dusky
prison, and me the iron-hearted keeper of it. And an iron
heart I should surely have, if I could detain you here any
longer, my poor child, when it is now six months since you
tasted food. I give you your liberty. Go with Quicksilver.
Hasten home to your dear mother."
Now, although you may not have supposed it, Proser-
203
pina found it impossible to take leave of poor King Pluto
without some regrets, and a good deal of compunction for
not telling him about the pomegranate. She even shed a
tear or two, thinking how lonely and cheerless the great
palace would seem to him, with all its ugly glare of arti-
ficial light, after she herself his one little ray of natural
sunshine, whom he had stolen, to be sure, but only because
he valued her so much after she should have departed. I
know not how many kind things she might have said to
the disconsolate king of the mines, had not Quicksilver
hurried her away.
"Come along quickly," whispered he in her ear, "or his
majesty may change his royal mind. And take care, above
all things, that you say nothing of what was brought you
on the golden salver."
In a very short time, they had passed the great gateway,
(leaving the three-headed Cerberus, barking, and yelping,
and growling, with threefold din, behind them,) and
emerged upon the surface of the earth. It was delightful
to behold, as Proserpina hastened along, how the path grew
verdant behind and on either side of her. Wherever she
set her blessed foot, there was at once a dewy flower. The
violets gushed up along the wayside. The grass and the
grain began to sprout with tenfold vigor and luxuriance,
to make up for the dreary months that had been wasted in
barrenness. The starved cattle immediately set to work
204
grazing, after their long fast, and ate enormously, all day,
and got up at midnight to eat more. But I can assure you
it was a busy time of year with the farmers, when they found
the summer coming upon them with such a rush. Nor
must I forget to say, that all the birds in the whole world
hopped about upon the newly-blossoming trees, and sang
together, in a prodigious ecstasy of joy.
Mother Ceres had returned to her deserted home, and
was sitting disconsolately on the doorstep, with her torch
burning in her hand. She had been idly watching the flame
for some moments past, when, all at once, it flickered and
went out.
"What does this mean?" thought she. "It was an en-
chanted torch and should have kept burning till my child
came back."
Lifting her eyes she was surprised to see a sudden ver-
dure flashing over the brown and barren fields, exactly as
you may have observed a golden hue gleaming far and wide
across the landscape, from the just risen sun.
"Does the earth disobey me?" exclaimed Mother Ceres,
indignantly. "Does it presume to be green, when I have
bidden it be barren, until my daughter shall be restored to
my arms?"
"Then open your arms, dear mother," cried a well-known
voice, "and take your little daughter into them."
And Proserpina came running, and flung herself upon
'
'
205
her mother's bosom. Their mutual transport is not to be
described. The grief of their separation had caused both
of them to shed a great many tears; and now they shed a
great many more, because their joy could not so well express
itself in any other way.
When their hearts had grown a little more quiet, Mother
Ceres looked anxiously at Proserpina.
"My child," said she, "did you taste any food while you
were in King Pluto's palace?"
"Dearest mother," answered Proserpina, "I will tell you
the whole truth. Until this very morning, not a morsel of
food had passed my lips. But to-day, they brought me a
pomegranate, (a very dry one it was, and all shrivelled up,
till there was little left of it but seeds and skin,) and having
seen no fruit for so long a time, and being faint with hunger,
I was tempted just to bite it. The instant I tasted it, King
Pluto and Quicksilver came into the room. I had not swal-
lowed a morsel ; but dear mother, I hope it was no harm-
but six of the pomegranate seeds, I am afraid, remained in
my mouth."
"Ah, unfortunate child, and miserable me!" exclaimed
Ceres. "For each of those six pomegranate seeds you must
spend one month of every year in King Pluto's palace. You
are but half restored to your mother. Only six months with
me, and six with that good-for-nothing King of Darkness!"
"Do not speak so harshly of poor King Pluto," said
206
Proserpina, kissing her mother. "He has some very good
qualities; and I really think I can bear to spend six months
in his palace, if he will only let me spend the other six with
you. He certainly did very wrong to carry me off; but
then, as he says, it was but a dismal sort of life for him, to
live in that great gloomy place, all alone; and it has made a
wonderful change in his spirits to have a little girl to run up
stairs and down. There is some comfort in making him
so happy; and so, upon the whole, dearest mother, let us
be thankful that he is not to keep me the whole year round."
207
"Che
GOLDEN FLEECE
THE GOLDEN FLEECE
WHEN Jason, the son of the dethroned King of
lolchos, was a little boy, he was sent away from
his parents, and placed under the queerest
schoolmaster that ever you heard of. This learned person
was one of the people, or quadrupeds, called Centaurs. He
lived in a cavern, and had the body and legs of a white
horse, with the head and shoulders of a man. His name
was Chiron; and, in spite of his odd appearance, he was
a very excellent teacher, and had several scholars, who after-
wards did him credit by making a great figure in the world.
The famous Hercules was one, and so was Achilles, and
Philoctetes, likewise, and ^Esculapius, who acquired im-
mense repute as a doctor. The good Chiron taught his
pupils how to play upon the harp, and how to cure diseases,
and how to use the sword and shield, together with various
209
other branches of education, in which the lads of those days
used to be instructed, instead of writing and arithmetic.
I have sometimes suspected that Master Chiron was not
really very different from other people, but that, being a
kind-hearted and merry old fellow, he was in the habit of
making believe that he was a horse, and scrambling about
the school room on all fours, and letting the little boys ride
upon his back. And so, when his scholars had grown up,
and grown old, and were trotting their grandchildren on
their knees, they told them about the sports of their school
days; and these young folks took the idea that their grand-
fathers had been taught their letters by a Centaur, half man
and half horse. Little children, not quite understanding
what is said to them, often get such absurd notions into their
heads, you know.
Be that as it may, it has always been told for a fact, (and
always will be told, as long as the world lasts,) that Chiron,
with the head of a schoolmaster, had the body and legs of
a horse. Just imagine the grave old gentleman clattering
and stamping into the school room on his four hoofs, per-
haps treading on some little fellow's toes, flourishing his
switch tail instead of a rod, and, now and then, trotting
out of doors to eat a mouthful of grass! I wonder what
the blacksmith charged him for a set of iron shoes.
So Jason dwelt in the cave, with this four-footed Chiron,
from the time that he was an infant, only a few months old,
210
until he had grown to the full height of a man. He be-
came a very good harper, I suppose, and skilful in the use
of weapons, and tolerably acquainted with herbs and other
doctor's stuff, and, above all, an admirable horseman; for,
in teaching young people to ride, the good Chiron must
have been without a rival among schoolmasters. At length,
being now a tall and athletic youth, Jason resolved to seek
his fortune in the world, without asking Chiron's advice,
or telling him anything about the matter. This was very
unwise, to be sure; and I hope none of you, my little hearers,
will ever follow Jason's example. But, you are to under-
stand, he had heard how that he himself was a prince royal,
and how his father, King ^Eson, had been deprived of the
kingdom of lolchos by a certain Pelias, who would also
have killed Jason, had he not been hidden in the Centaur's
cave. And, being come to the strength of a man, Jason
determined to set all this business to rights, and to punish
the wicked Pelias for wronging his dear father, and to cast
him down from the throne, and seat himself there instead.
With this intention, he took a spear in each hand, and
threw a leopard's skin over his shoulders, to keep off the
rain, and set forth on his travels, with his long yellow ring-
lets waving in the wind. The part of his dress on which
he most prided himself was a pair of sandals, that had been
his father's. They were handsomely embroidered, and
were tied upon his feet with strings of gold. But his whole
II
-it-
211
attire was such as people did not very often see ; and as he
passed along, the women and children ran to the doors and
windows, wondering whither this beautiful youth was jour-
neying, with his leopard's skin and his golden-tied sandals,
and what heroic deeds he meant to perform, with a spear
in his right hand and another in his left.
I know not how far Jason had travelled when he came
to a turbulent river, which rushed right across his pathway,
with specks of white foam among its black eddies, hurrying
tumultuously onward, and roaring angrily as it went.
Though not a very broad river in the dry seasons of the year,
it was now swollen by heavy rains and by the melting of
the snow on the sides of Mount Olympus; and it thundered
so loudly, and looked so wild and dangerous, that Jason,
bold as he was, thought it prudent to pause upon the brink.
The bed of the stream seemed to be strewn with sharp and
rugged rocks, some of which thrust themselves above the
water. By and by, an uprooted tree, with shattered
branches, came drifting along the current, and got entangled
among the rocks. Now and then, a drowned sheep, and
once the carcass of a cow, floated past.
In short the swollen river had already done a great deal
of mischief. It was evidently too deep for Jason to wade,
and too boisterous for him to swim; he could see no bridge;
and as for a boat, had there been any, the rocks would have
broken it to pieces in an instant.
212
"See the poor lad," said a cracked voice close to his side.
"He must have had but a poor education, since he does
not know how to cross a little stream like this. Or is he
afraid of wetting his fine golden-stringed sandals? It is
a pity his four-footed schoolmaster is not here to carry him
safely across on his back!"
Jason looked round greatly surprised, for he did not know
that anybody was near. But beside him stood an old
woman, with a ragged mantle over her head, leaning on
a staff, the top of which was carved into the shape of a
cuckoo. She looked very aged, and wrinkled, and infirm;
and yet her eyes, which were as brown as those of an ox,
were so extremely large and beautiful, that, when they were
fixed on Jason's eyes, he could see nothing else but them.
The old woman had a pomegranate in her hand, although
the fruit was then quite out of season.
"Whither are you going, Jason?" she now asked.
She seemed to know his name, you will observe; and
indeed, those great brown eyes looked as if they had a know-
ledge of everything, whether past or to come. While Jason
was gazing at her, a peacock strutted forward, and took his
stand at the old woman's side.
"I am going to lolchos," answered the young man, "to
bid the wicked King Pelias come down from my father's
throne, and let me reign in his stead."
"Ah, well, then," said the old woman, still with the same
213
cracked voice, "if that is all your business, you need not be
in a very great hurry. Just take me on your back, there's
a good youth, and carry me across the river. I and my
peacock have something to do on the other side, as well as
yourself."
"Good mother," replied Jason, "your business can hardly
be so important as the pulling down a king from his throne.
Besides, as you may see for yourself, the river is very bois-
terous; and if I should chance to stumble, it would sweep
both of us away more easily than it has carried off yonder
uprooted tree. I would gladly help you if I could; but I
doubt whether I am strong enough to carry you across."
"Then," said she, very scornfully, "neither are you strong
enough to pull King Pelias off his throne. And, Jason,
unless you will help an old woman at her need, you ought
not to be a king. What are kings made for, save to succor
the feeble and distressed? But do as you please. Either
take me on your back, or with my poor old limbs I shall
try my best to struggle across the stream."
Saying this, the old woman poked with her staff in the
river, as if to find the safest place in its rocky bed where
she might make the first step. But Jason, by this time, had
grown ashamed of his reluctance to help her. He felt that
he could never forgive himself, if this poor feeble creature
should come to any harm in attempting to wrestle against
the headlong current. The good Chiron, whether half
214
horse or no, had taught him that the noblest use of his
strength was to assist the weak; and also that he must treat
every young woman as if she were his sister, and every old
one like a mother. Remembering these maxims, the vigor-
ous and beautiful young man knelt down, and requested
the good dame to mount upon his back.
"The passage seems to me not very safe," he remarked.
"But as your business is so urgent, I will try to carry you
across. If the river sweeps you away, it shall take me too."
"That, no doubt, will be a great comfort to both of us,"
quoth the old woman. "But never fear. We shall get
safely across."
So she threw her arms around Jason's neck; and lifting
her from the ground, he stepped boldly into the raging and
foamy current, and began to stagger away from the
shore. As for the peacock, it alighted on the old dame's
shoulder. Jason's two spears, one in each hand, kept him
from stumbling, and enabled him to feel his way among
the hidden rocks; although, every instant, he expected that
his companion and himself would go down the stream, to-
gether with the driftwood of shattered trees, and the car-
casses of the sheep and cow. Down came the cold, snowy
torrent from the steep side of Olympus, raging and thunder-
ing as if it had a real spite against Jason, or, at all events,
were determined to snatch off his living burden from his
shoulders. When he was half way across, the uprooted
215
tree (which I have already told you about) broke loose from
among the rocks, and bore down upon him, with all its
splintered branches sticking out like the hundred arms of
the giant Briareus. It rushed past, however, without touch-
ing him. But the next moment, his foot was caught in
a crevice between two rocks, and stuck there so fast, that,
in the effort to get free he lost one of his golden-stringed
sandals.
At this accident Jason could not help uttering a cry of
vexation.
"What is the matter, Jason?" asked the old woman.
"Matter enough," said the young man. "I have lost a
sandal here among the rocks. And what sort of a figure
shall I cut, at the court of King Pelias, with a golden-
stringed sandal on one foot, and the other foot bare!"
"Do not take it to heart," answered his companion
cheerily. "You never met with better fortune than in losing
that sandal. It satisfies me that you are the very person
whom the Speaking Oak has been talking about."
There was no time, just then, to inquire what the Speak-
ing Oak had said. But the briskness of her tone encouraged
the young man; and besides, he had never in his life felt
so vigorous and mighty as since taking this old woman on
his back. Instead of being exhausted, he gathered strength
as he went on; and, struggling up against the torrent, he
at last gained the opposite shore, clambered up the bank,
216
and set down the old dame and her peacock safely on the
grass. As soon as this was done, however, he could not
help looking rather despondently at his bare foot, with only
a remnant of the golden string of the sandal clinging round
his ankle.
"You will get a handsomer pair of sandals by and by,"
said the old woman, with a kindly look out of her beautiful
brown eyes. "Only let King Pelias get a glimpse of that
bare foot, and you shall see him turn as pale as ashes, I
promise you. There is your path. Go along, my good
Jason, and my blessing go with you. And when you sit
on your throne, remember the old woman whom you helped
over the river."
With these words, she hobbled away, giving him a smile
over her shoulders as she departed. Whether the light of
her beautiful brown eyes threw a glory round about her,
or whatever the cause might be, Jason fancied that there
was something very noble and majestic in her figure, after
all, and that, though her gait seemed to be a rheumatic hob-
ble, yet she moved with as much grace and dignity as any
queen on earth. Her peacock, which had now fluttered
down from her shoulder, strutted behind her in prodigious
pomp, and spread out its magnificent tail on purpose for
Jason to admire it.
When the old dame and her peacock were out of sight,
Jason set forward on his journey. After travelling a pretty
217
long distance, he came to a town situated at the foot of
a mountain, and not a great way from the shore of the sea.
On the outside of the town there was an immense crowd
of people, not only men and women, but children too, all
in their best clothes, and evidently enjoying a holiday. The
crowd was thickest towards the sea shore ; and in that direc-
tion, over the people's heads, Jason saw a wreath of smoke
curling upward to the blue sky. He inquired of one of
the multitude what town it was, near by, and why so many
persons were here assembled together.
"This is the kingdom of lolchos," answered the man.
"and we are the subjects of King Pelias. Our monarch
has summoned us together, that we may see him sacrifice
a black bull to Neptune, who, they say, is his majesty's
father. Yonder is the king, where you see the smoke going
up from the altar."
While the man spoke he eyed Jason with great curiosity;
for his garb was quite unlike that of the lolchians, and it
looked very odd to see a youth with a leopard's skin
over his shoulders, and each hand grasping a spear. Jason
perceived, too, that the man stared particularly at his feet,
one of which, you remember, was bare, while the other
was decorated with his father's golden-stringed sandal.
"Look at him! only look at him!" said the man to his
next neighbor. "Do you see? He wears but one sandal !"
2l8
Upon this, first one person, and then another, began to
stare at Jason, and everybody seemed to be greatly struck
with something in his aspect; though they turned their eyes
much oftener towards his feet than to any other part of his
figure. Besides, he could hear them whispering to one
another.
"One sandal! One sandal!" they kept saying. "The
man with one sandal ! Here he is at last ! Whence has he
come? What does he mean to do? What will the king
say to the one-sandalled man?"
Poor Jason was greatly abashed, and made up his mind
that the people of lolchos were exceedingly ill bred, to take
such public notice of an accidental deficiency in his dress.
Meanwhile, whether it were that they hustled him forward,
or that Jason, of his own accord, thrust a passage through
the crowd, it so happened that he soon found himself close
to the smoking altar where King Pelias was sacrificing the
black bull. The murmur and hum of the multitude, in
their surprise at the spectacle of Jason with his one bare
foot, grew so loud that it disturbed the ceremonies; and the
king, holding the great knife with which he was just going
to cut the bull's throat, turned angrily about, and fixed his
eyes on Jason. The people had now withdrawn from
around him, so that the youth stood in an open space, near
the smoking altar, front to front with the angry King Pelias.
"Who are you?" cried the king, with a terrible frown.
219
"And how dare you make this disturbance, while I am sac-
rificing a black bull to my father Neptune?"
"It is no fault of mine," answered Jason. "Your majesty
must blame the rudeness of your subjects, who have
raised all this tumult because one of my feet happens to be
bare."
When Jason said this, the king gave a quick, startled
glance down at his feet.
"Ha !" muttered he, "here is the one-sandalled fellow, sure
enough ! What can I do with him?"
And he clutched more closely the great knife in his hand,
as if he were half a mind to slay Jason, instead of the black
bull. The people round about caught up the king's words,
indistinctly as they were uttered; and first there was a mur-
mur among them, and then a loud shout.
"The one-sandalled man has come ! The prophecy must
be fulfilled!"
For you are to know, that, many years before, King Pelias
had been told by the Speaking Oak of Dodona, that a man
with one sandal should cast him down from his throne. On
this account, he had given strict orders that nobody should
ever come into his presence, unless both sandals were
securely tied upon his feet; and he kept an officer in his
palace, whose sole business it was to examine people's san-
dals, and to supply them with a new pair, at the expense
of the royal treasury, as soon as the old ones began to wear
220
out. In the whole course of the king's reign, he had never
been thrown into such a fright and agitation as by the spec-
tacle of poor Jason's bare foot. But, as he was naturally a
bold and hard-hearted man, he soon took courage, and began
to consider in what way he might rid himself of this terrible
one-sandalled stranger.
"My good young man," said King Pelias, taking the
softest tone imaginable, in order to throw Jason off his
guard, "you are excessively welcome to my kingdom.
Judging by your dress, you must have travelled a long dis-
tance; for it is not the fashion to wear leopard skins in this
part of the world. Pray what may I call your name, and
where did you receive your education?"
"My name is Jason," answered the young stranger.
"Ever since my infancy, I have dwelt in the cave of Chiron
the Centaur. He was my instructor, and taught me music,
and horsemanship, and how to cure wounds, and likewise
how to inflict wounds with my weapons."
"I have heard of Chiron the schoolmaster," replied King
Pelias, "and how that there is an immense deal of learning
and wisdom in his head, although it happens to be set on
a horse's body. It gives me great delight to see one of his
scholars at my court. But, to test how much you have
profited under so excellent a teacher, will you allow me to
ask you a single question?"
"I do not pretend to be very wise," said Jason. "But
221
ask me what you please, and I will answer to the best of
my ability."
Now King Pelias meant cunningly to entrap the young
man, and to make him say something that should be the
cause of mischief and destruction to himself. So, with a
crafty and evil smile upon his face, he spoke as follows :
"What would you do, brave Jason," asked he, "if there
were a man in the world, by whom, as you had reason to
believe, you were doomed to be ruined and slain what
would you do, I say, if that man stood before you, and in
your power?"
When Jason saw the malice and wickedness which King
Pelias could not prevent from gleaming out of his eyes,
he probably guessed that the king had discovered what he
came for, and that he intended to turn his own words against
himself. Still he scorned to tell a falsehood. Like an up-
right and honorable prince, as he was, he determined to
speak out the real truth. Since the king had chosen to ask
him the question, and since Jason had promised him an
answer, there was no right way, save to tell him precisely
what would be the most prudent thing to do, if he had his
worst enemy in his power.
Therefore, after a moment's consideration, he spoke up,
with a firm and manly voice.
"I would send such a man," said he, "in quest of the
Golden Fleece!"
222
This enterprise, you will understand, was, of all others,
the most difficult and dangerous in the world. In the first
place, it would be necessary to make a long voyage through
unknown seas. There was hardly a hope, or a possibility,
that any young man who should undertake this voyage
would either succeed in obtaining the Golden Fleece, or
would survive to return home, and tell of the perils he had
run. The eyes of King Pelias sparkled with joy, therefore,
when he heard Jason's reply.
"Well said, wise man with the one sandal!" cried he.
"Go, then, and at the peril of your life, bring me back the
Golden Fleece."
"I go," answered Jason, composedly. "If I fail, you need
not fear that I will ever come back to trouble you again.
But if I return to lolchos with the prize, then, King Pelias,
you must hasten down from your lofty throne, and give me
your crown and scepter."
"That I will," said the king, with a sneer. "Meantime, I
will keep them very safely for you."
The first thing that Jason thought of doing, after he left
the king's presence, was to go to Dodona, and inquire of the
Talking Oak what course it was best to pursue. This
wonderful tree stood in the center of an ancient wood. Its
stately trunk rose up a hundred feet into the air, and threw a
broad and dense shadow over more than an acre of ground.
Standing beneath it, Jason looked up among the knotted
9999999999
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II
II
branches and green leaves, and into the mysterious heart of
the old tree, and spoke aloud, as if he were addressing some
person who was hidden in the depths of the foliage.
"What shall I do?" said he.
"What shall I do," said he, "in order to win the Golden
Fleece?"
At first there was a deep silence, not only within the
224
shadow of the Talking Oak, but all through the solitary
wood. In a moment or two, however, the leaves of the oak
began to stir and rustle, as if a gentle breeze were wandering
amongst them, although the other trees of the wood were
perfectly still. The sound grew louder, and became like the
roar of a high wind. By and by, Jason imagined that he
could distinguish words, but very confusedly, because each
separate leaf of the tree seemed to be a tongue, and the whole
myriad of tongues were babbling at once. But the noise
waxed broader and deeper, until it resembled a tornado
sweeping through the oak, and making one great utterance
out of the thousand and thousand of little murmurs which
each leafy tongue had caused by its rustling. And now,
though it still had the tone of a mighty wind roaring among
the branches, it was also like a deep bass voice, speaking, as
distinctly as a tree could be expected to speak, the following
words :
"Go to Argus, the ship builder, and bid him build a galley
with fifty oars."
Then the voice melted again into the indistinct murmur of
the rustling leaves, and died gradually away. When it was
quite gone, Jason felt inclined to doubt whether he had ac-
tually heard the words, or whether his fancy had not shaped
them out of the ordinary sound made by a breeze, while pass-
ing through the thick foliage of the tree.
But on inquiry among the people of lolchos, he found
225
that there was really a man in the city, by the name of Argus,
who was a very skilful builder of vessels. This showed some
intelligence in the oak; else how should it have known that
any such person existed? At Jason's request, Argus readily
consented to build him a galley so big that it should require
fifty strong men to row it; although no vessel of such a size
and burden had heretofore been seen in the world. So the
head carpenter, and all his journeymen and apprentices,
began their work and for a good while afterwards, there they
were, busily employed, hewing out the timbers, and making
a great clatter with their hammers; until the new ship, which
was called the Argo, seemed to be quite ready for the sea.
And, as the Talking Oak had already given him such good
advice, Jason thought that it would not be amiss to ask for
a little more. He visited it again, therefore, and standing
beside its huge, rough trunk, inquired what he should do
next.
This time, there was no such universal quivering of the
leaves, throughout the whole tree, as there had been before.
But after a while, Jason observed that the foliage of a great
branch which stretched above his head had begun to rustle,
as if the wind were stirring that one bough, while all the
other boughs of the oak were at rest.
"Cut me off!" said the branch, as soon as it could speak
distinctly; "cut me off! cut me off! and carve me into a
figure head for your galley."
226
II II
Accordingly, Jason took the branch at its word, and lop-
ped it off the tree. A carver in the neighborhood engaged to
make the figure head. He was a tolerably good workman,
and had already carved several figure heads, in what he in-
tended for feminine shapes, and looking pretty much like
those which we see nowadays stuck up under a vessel's
bowsprit, with great staring eyes, that never wink at the
dash of the spray. But (what was very strange) the carver
found that his hand was guided by some unseen power,
and by a skill beyond his own, and that his tools shaped
out an image which he had never dreamed of. When the
work was finished, it turned out to be the figure of a beauti-
ful woman, with a helmet on her head, from beneath which
the long ringlets fell down upon her shoulders. On the
left arm was a shield, and in its center appeared a lifelike
representation of the head of Medusa with the snaky locks.
The right arm was extended, as if pointing onward. The
face of this wonderful statue, though not angry or forbid-
ding, was so grave and majestic, that perhaps you might
call it severe; and as for the mouth, it seemed just
ready to unclose its lips, and utter words of the deepest wis-
dom.
Jason was delighted with the oaken image, and gave the
carver no rest until it was completed, and set up where
a figure head has always stood, from that time to this, in
the vessel's prow.
227
"And now," cried he, as he stood gazing at the calm,
majestic face of the statue, "I must go to the Talking Oak,
and inquire what next to do."
"There is no need of that, Jason," said a voice which,
though it was far lower, reminded him of the mighty tones
of the great oak. "When you desire good advice, you can
seek it of me."
Jason had been looking straight into the face of the
image when these words were spoken. But he could hardly
believe either his ears or his eyes. The truth was, however,
that the oaken lips had moved, and, to all appearance, the
voice had proceeded from the statue's mouth. Recovering
a little from his surprise, Jason bethought himself that the
image had been carved out of the wood of the Talking Oak,
and that, therefore, it was really no great wonder, but, on
the contrary, the most natural thing in the world, that it
should possess the faculty of speech. It would have been
very odd, indeed, if it had not. But certainly it was a great
piece of good fortune that he should be able to carry
so wise a block of wood along with him in his perilous
voyage.
"Tell me, wonderous image," exclaimed Jason, "since
you inherit the wisdom of the Speaking Oak of Dodona,
whose daughter you are, tell me, where shall I find fifty
bold youths, who will take each of them an oar of my galley?
They must have sturdy arms to row, and brave hearts to
228
encounter perils, or we shall never win the Golden Fleece."
"Go," replied the oaken image, "go, summon all the
heroes of Greece."
And, in fact, considering what a great deed was to be
done, could any advice be wiser than this which Jason re-
ceived from the figure head of his vessel? He lost no time
in sending messages to all the cities, and making known
to the whole people of Greece, that Prince Jason, the son
of King yEson, was going in quest of the Fleece of Gold,
and that he desired the help of forty-nine of the bravest and
strongest young men alive, to row his vessel and share his
dangers. And Jason himself would be the fiftieth.
At this news, the adventurous youths, all over the country,
began to bestir themselves. Some of them had already
fought with giants, and slain dragons ; and the younger ones,
who had not yet met with such good fortune, thought it
a shame to have lived so long without getting astride of a
flying serpent, or sticking their spears into a Chimera, or,
at least, thrusting their right arms down a monstrous lion's
throat. There was a fair prospect that they would meet
with plenty of such adventures before finding the Golden
Fleece. As soon as they could furbish up their helmets
and shields, therefore, and gird on their trusty swords, they
came thronging to lolchos, and clambered on board the
new galley. Shaking hands with Jason, they assured him
that they did not care a pin for their lives, but would help
229
row the vessel to the remotest edge of the world, and as much
farther as he might think it best to go.
Many of these brave fellows had been educated by Chiron,
the four-footed pedagogue, and were therefore old school-
mates of Jason, and knew him to be a lad of spirit. The
mighty Hercules, whose shoulders afterwards held up the
sky, was one of them. And there were Castor and Pollux,
the twin brothers, who were never accused of being chicken-
hearted, although they had been hatched out of an egg; and
Theseus, who was so renowned for killing the Minotaur;
and Lynceus, with his wonderfully sharp eyes, which could
see through a millstone, or look right down into the depths
of the earth, and discover the treasures that were there;
and Orpheus, the very best of harpers, who sang and played
upon his lyre so sweetly, that the brute beasts stood upon
their hind legs, and capered merrily to the music. Yes,
and at some of his more moving tunes, the rocks bestirred
their moss-grown bulk out of the ground, and a grove of
forest trees uprooted themselves, and, nodding their tops
to one another, performed a country dance.
One of the rowers was a beautiful young woman, named
Atalanta, who had been nursed among the mountains by
a bear. So light of foot was this fair damsel, that she could
step from one foamy crest of a wave to the foamy crest of
another, without wetting more than the sole of her sandal.
She had grown up in a very wild way, and talked much about
the rights of women, and loved hunting and war far better
230
than her needle. But, in my opinion, the most remarkable
of this famous company were two sons of the North Wind,
(airy youngsters, and of rather a blustering disposition,)
who had wings on their shoulders, and, in case of a calm,
could puff out their cheeks, and blow almost as fresh a
breeze as their father. I ought not to forget the prophets
and conjurers, of whom there were several in the crew, and
who could foretell what would happen to-morrow, or the
next day, or a hundred years hence, but were generally quite
unconscious of what was passing at the moment.
Jason appointed Tiphys to be helmsman, because he was
a star-gazer, and knew the points of the compass. Lynceus,
on account of his sharp sight, was stationed as a lookout
in the prow, where he saw a whole day's sail ahead, but was
rather apt to overlook things that lay directly under his
nose. If the sea only happened to be deep enough, however,
Lynceus could tell you exactly what kind of rocks or sand
were at the bottom of it ; and he often cried out to his com-
panions, that they were sailing over heaps of sunken treasure,
which he was none the richer for beholding. To confess the
truth, few people believed him when he said it.
Well! But when the Argonauts, as these fifty brave
adventurers were called, had prepared everything for the
voyage, an unforeseen difficulty threatened to end it before
it was begun. The vessel, you must understand, was so long,
and broad, and ponderous, that the united force of all the
231
fifty was insufficient to shove her into the water. Hercules,
I suppose, had not grown to his full strength, else he might
have set her afloat as easily as a little boy launches his boat
upon a puddle. But here were these fifty heroes, pushing,
and straining, and growing red in the face, without making
the Argo start an inch. At last, quite wearied out, they sat
themselves down on the shore, exceedingly disconsolate, and
thinking that the vessel must be left to rot and fall in pieces,
and that they must either swim across the sea or lose the
Golden Fleece.
All at once, Jason bethought himself of the galley's
miraculous figure head.
"O, daughter of the Talking Oak," cried he, "how shall
we set to work to get our vessel into the water?"
"Seat yourselves," answered the image, (for it had known
what had ought to be done from the very first, and was only
waiting for the question to be put,)- -"seat yourselves, and
handle your oars, and let Orpheus play upon his harp."
Immediately the fifty heroes got on board, and seizing
their oars, held them perpendicularly in the air, while Or-
pheus (who liked such a task far better than rowing) swept
his fingers across the harp. At the first ringing note of
the music, they felt the vessel stir. Orpheus thrummed
away briskly, and the galley slid at once into the sea, dip-
ping her prow so deeply that the figure head drank the wave
with its marvellous lips, and rising again as buoyant as a
232
f'"V
ft
swan. The rowers plied their fifty oars; the white foam
boiled up before the prow; the water gurgled and bubbled
in their wake; while Orpheus continued to play so lively a
strain of music, that the vessel seemed to dance over the bil-
lows by way of keeping time to it. Thus triumphantly did
the Argo sail out of the harbor, amidst the huzzahs and good
wishes of everybody except the wicked old Pelias, who stood
on a promontory, scowling at her, and wishing that he could
blow out of his lungs the tempest of wrath that was in his
heart, and so sink the galley with all on board. When they
had sailed above fifty miles over the sea, Lynceus happened
to cast his sharp eyes behind, and said that there was this
bad-hearted king, still perched upon the promontory, and
scowling so gloomily that it looked like a black thunder
cloud in that quarter of the horizon.
In order to make the time pass away more pleasantly
during the voyage, the heroes talked about the Golden
Fleece. It originally belonged, it appears, to a Boeotian
ram, who had taken on his back two children, when
in danger of their lives, and fled with them over land and
sea, as far as Colchis. One of the children, whose name
was Helle, fell into the sea and was drowned. But the
other, (a little boy, named Phrixus) was brought safe ashore
by the faithful ram, who, however, was so exhausted that
he immediately lay down and died. In memory of this good
deed, and as a token of his true heart, the fleece of the poor
dead ram was miraculously changed to gold, and became
one of the most beautiful objects ever seen on earth. It
was hung upon a tree in a sacred grove, where it had now
been kept I know not how many years, and was the envy
of mighty kings, who had nothing so magnificent in any
of their palaces.
If I were to tell you all the adventures of the Argonauts,
it would take me till nightfall, and perhaps a great deal
longer. There was no lack of wonderful events, as you
may judge from what you have already heard. At a certain
island they were hospitably received by King Cyzicus, its
sovereign, who made a feast for them, and treated them
like brothers. But the Argonauts saw that this good king
looked downcast and very much troubled, and they there-
fore inquired of him what was the matter. King Cyzicus
hereupon informed them that he and his subjects were
greatly abused and incommoded by the inhabitants of a
neighboring mountain, who made war upon them, and killed
many people, and ravaged the country. And while they
were talking about it, Cyzicus pointed to the mountain, and
asked Jason and his companions what they saw there.
"I see some very tall objects," answered Jason; "but they
are at such a distance that I cannot distinctly make out what
they are. To tell your majesty the truth, they look so very
strangely that I am inclined to think them clouds, which
have chanced to take something like human shapes."
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234
"I see them very plainly," remarked Lynceus, whose eyes,
you know, were as far sighted as a telescope. "They are
a band of enormous giants, all of whom have six arms apiece,
and a club, a sword, or some other weapon in each of their
hands."
"You have excellent eyes," said King Cyzicus. "Yes,
they are six armed giants, as you say, and these are the
enemies whom I and my subjects have to contend with."
The next day, when the Argonauts were about setting sail,
down came these terrible giants, stepping a hundred yards
at a stride, brandishing their six arms apiece and looking
very formidable, so far aloft in the air. Each of these mon-
sters was able to carry on a whole war by himself, for with
one of his arms he could fling immense stones, and wield
a club with another, and a sword with a third, while the
fourth was poking a long spear at the enemy, and the fifth
and sixth were shooting him with a bow and arrow. But,
luckily, though the giants were so huge, and had so many
arms, they had each but one heart, and that no bigger nor
braver than the heart of an ordinary man. Besides, if they
had been like the hundred-armed Briareus, the brave Argo-
nauts would have given them their hands full of fight. Ja-
son and his friends went boldly to meet them, slew a great
many, and made the rest take to their heels, so that, if the
giants had had six legs apiece instead of six arms, it would
have served them better to run away with.
235
Another strange adventure happened when the voyagers
came to Thrace, where they found a poor blind king, named
Phineus, deserte'd by his subjects, and living in a very sor-
rowful way, all by himself. On Jason's inquiring whether
they could do him any service, the king answered that he was
terribly tormented by three great winged creatures, called
Harpies, which had the faces of women, and the wings,
bodies, and claws of vultures. These ugly wretches were
in the habit of snatching away his dinner, and allowed him
no peace of his life. Upon hearing this, the Argonauts
spread a plentiful feast on the sea shore, well knowing, from
what the blind king said of their greediness, that the Harpies
would snuff up the scent of the victuals, and quickly come
to steal them away. And so it turned out; for, hardly was
the table set, before the three hideous vulture women came
flapping their wings, seized the food in their talons, and
flew off as fast as they could. But the two sons of the North
Wind drew their swords, spread their pinions, and set off
through the air in pursuit of the thieves, whom they at
last overtook among some islands, after a chase of hundreds
of miles. The two winged youths blustered terribly at the
Harpies, (for they had the rough temper of their father,)
and so frightened them with their drawn swords, that they
solemnly promised never to trouble King Phineus again.
Then the Argonauts sailed onward, and met with many
other marvellous incidents, any one of which would make
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236
a story by itself. At one time, they landed on an island,
and were reposing on the grass, when they suddenly found
themselves assailed by what seemed a shower of steel-headed
arrows. Some of them stuck in the ground, while others
hit against their shields, and several penetrated their flesh.
The fifty heroes started up, and looked about them for the
hidden enemy, but could find none, nor see any spot, on the
whole island, where even a single archer could lie concealed.
Still, however, the steel-headed arrows came whizzing
among them, and, at last, happening to look upward, they
beheld a large flock of birds, hovering and wheeling aloft,
and shooting their feathers down upon the Argonauts.
These feathers were the steel-headed arrows that had so tor-
mented them. There was no possibility of making any
resistance; and the fifty heroic Argonauts might all have
been killed or wounded by a flock of troublesome birds,
without ever setting eyes on the Golden Fleece, if Jason had
not thought of asking the advice of the oaken image.
So he ran to the galley as fast as his legs would carry him.
"O, daughter of the Speaking Oak," cried he, all out of
breath, "we need your wisdom more than ever before! We
are in great peril from a flock of birds, who are shooting
us with their steel-pointed feathers. What can we do to
drive them away?"
"Make a clatter on your shields," said the image.
On receiving this excellent counsel, Jason hurried back
237
to his companions, (who were far more dismayed than when
they fought with the six-armed giants,) and bade them strike
with their swords upon their brazen shields. Forthwith the
fifty heroes set heartily to work, banging with might and
main, and raised such a terrible clatter, that the birds made
what haste they could to get away; and though they had shot
half the feathers out of their wings, they were soon seen
skimming among the clouds, a long distance off, and looking
like a flock of wild geese. Orpheus celebrated this victory
by playing a triumphant anthem on his harp, and sang
so melodiously that Jason begged him to desist, lest, as the
steel-feathered birds had been driven away by an ugly sound,
they might be enticed back again by a sweet one.
While the Argonauts remained on this island, they saw
a small vessel approaching the shore, in which were two
young men of princely demeanor, and exceedingly hand-
some, as young princes generally were, in those days. Now,
who do you imagine these two voyagers turned out to be?
Why, if you will believe me, they were the sons of that very
Phrixus, who, in his childhood, had been carried to Colchis
on the back of the golden-fleeced ram. Since that time,
Phrixus had married the king's daughter ; and the two young
princes had been born and brought up at Colchis, and had
spent their play days in the outskirts of the grove, in the
center of which the Golden Fleece was hanging upon a tree.
238
They were now on their way to Greece, in hopes of getting
back a kingdom that had been wrongfully taken from their
father.
When the princes understood whither the Argonauts
were going, they offered to turn back, and guide them to
Colchis. At the same time, however, they spoke as if it
were very doubtful whether Jason would succeed in getting
the Golden Fleece. According to their account, the tree
on which it hung was guarded by a terrible dragon,
who never failed to devour, at one mouthful, every person
who might venture within his reach.
"There are other difficulties in the way," continued the
young princes. "But is not this enough? Ah, brave Jason,
turn back before it is too late. It would grieve us to the
heart, if you and your nine and forty brave companions
should be eaten up, at fifty mouthfuls, by this execrable
dragon."
"My young friends," quietly replied Jason, "I do not
wonder that you think the dragon very terrible. You have
grown up from infancy in the fear of this monster, and there-
fore still regard him with the awe that children feel for the
bugbears and hobgoblins which their nurses have talked
to them about. But, in my view of the matter, the dragon
is merely a pretty large serpent, who is not half so likely
to snap me up at one mouthful as I am to cut off his ugly
239
head, and strip the skin from his body. At all events, turn
back who may, I will never see Greece again, unless I carry
with me the Golden Fleece."
"We will none of us turn back!" cried his nine and forty
brave comrades. "Let us get on board the galley this in-
stant ; and if the dragon is to make a breakfast of us, much
good may it do him."
And Orpheus (whose custom it was to set everything
to music) began to harp and sing most gloriously, and made
every mother's son of them feel as if nothing in this world
were so delectable as to fight dragons, and nothing so truly
honorable as to be eaten up at one mouthful, in case of
the worst.
After this, (being now under the guidance of the two
princes, who were well acquainted with the way,) they
quickly sailed to Colchis. When the king of the country,
whose name was yEetes, heard of their arrival, he instantly
summoned Jason to court. The king was a stern and cruel-
looking potentate; and though he put on as polite and hospit-
able an expression as he could, Jason did not like his face
a whit better than that of the wicked King Pelias, who de-
throned his father.
"You are welcome, brave Jason," said King ^Eetes.
"Pray, are you on a pleasure voyage? or do you meditate
the discovery of unknown islands? or what other cause
has procured me the happiness of seeing you at my court?"
240
"Great sir," replied Jason, with an obeisance, for Chiron
had taught him how to behave with propriety, whether to
kings or beggars, "I have come hither with a purpose
which I now beg your majesty's permission to execute.
King Pelias, who sits on my father's throne, (to which he
has no more right than to the one on which your excellent
majesty is now seated,) has engaged to come down from
it, and give me his crown and scepter, provided I bring
him the Golden Fleece. This, as your majesty is aware,
is now hanging on a tree here at Colchis; and I humbly
solicit your gracious leave to take it away."
In spite of himself, the king's face twisted itself into an
angry frown; for, above all things else in the world, he
prized the Golden Fleece and was even suspected of having
done a very wicked act, in order to get it into his own pos-
session. It put him into the worst possible humor, there-
fore, to hear that the gallant Prince Jason, and forty-nine
of the bravest young warriors of Greece, had come to Col-
chis with the sole purpose of taking away his chief treasure.
"Do you know," asked King y^etes, eyeing Jason very
sternly, "what are the conditions which you must fulfil
before getting possession of the Golden Fleece?"
"I have heard," rejoined the youth, "that a dragon lies
beneath the tree on which the prize hangs, and that whoever
approaches him runs the risk of being devoured at a
mouthful."
241
"True," said the king, with a smile that did not look
particularly good-natured. "Very true, young man. But
there are other things as hard, or perhaps a little harder,
to be done, before you can even have the privilege of being
devoured by the dragon. For example, you must first tame
my two brazen-footed and brazen-lunged bulls, which Vul-
can, the wonderful blacksmith, made for me. There is a
furnace in each of their stomachs; and they breathe such
hot fire out of their mouths and nostrils, that nobody has
hitherto gone nigh them without being instantly burned to
a small, black cinder. What do you think of this, my brave
Jason?"
"I must encounter the peril," answered Jason, composedly,
"since it stands in the way of my purpose."
"After taming the fiery bulls," continued King /Eetes,
who was determined to scare Jason if possible, "you must
yoke them to a plough, and must plough the sacred earth
in the grove of Mars, and sow some of the same dragon's
teeth from which Cadmus raised a crop of armed men.
They are an unruly set of reprobates, those sons of the
dragon's teeth; and unless you treat them suitably, they will
fall upon you sword in hand . You and your nine and forty
Argonauts, my bold Jason, are hardly numerous or strong
enough to fight with such a host as will spring up."
"My master Chiron," replied Jason, "taught me, long
ago, the story of Cadmus. Perhaps I can manage the quar-
relsome sons of the dragon's teeth as well as Cadmus did."
242
"I wish the dragon had him," muttered King /Eetes to
himself, "and the four-footed pedant, his schoolmaster, into
the bargain. Why, what a foolhardy, self-conceited cox-
comb he is! We'll see what my fire-breathing bulls will
do for him. Well, Prince Jason," he continued, aloud, and
as complaisantly as he could, "make yourself comfortable
for to-day, and to-morrow morning, since you insist upon
it, you shall try your skill at the plough."
While the king talked with Jason, a beautiful young
woman was standing behind the throne. She fixed her eyes
earnestly upon the youthful stranger, and listened attentively
to every word that was spoken; and when Jason withdrew
from the king's presence, this young woman followed him
out of the room.
"I am the king's daughter," she said to him, "and my
name is Medea. I know a great deal of which other
young princesses are ignorant, and can do many things
which they would be afraid so much as to dream of. If
you will trust to me, I can instruct you how to tame the
fiery bulls, and sow the dragon's teeth, and get the Golden
Fleece."
"Indeed, beautiful princess," answered Jason, "if you will
do me this service, I promise to be grateful to you my whole
life long."
Gazing at Medea, he beheld a wonderful intelligence in
her face. She was one of those persons whose eyes are full
243
"I am the king's daughter."
of mystery; so that, while looking into them, you seem to
see a very great way, as into a deep well, yet can never be
certain whether you see into the farthest depths, or whether
there be not something else hidden at the bottom. If Jason
had been capable of fearing anything, he would have been
afraid of making this young princess his enemy ; for, beauti-
ful as she now looked, she might, the very next instant,
244
become as terrible as the dragon that kept watch over the
Golden Fleece.
"Princess," he exclaimed, "you seem indeed very wise and
very powerful. But how can you help me to do the things
of which you speak? Are you an enchantress?"
"Yes, Prince Jason," answered Medea, with a smile, "you
have hit upon the truth. I am an enchantress. Circe, my
father's sister, taught me to be one, and I could tell you, if
I pleased, who was the old woman with the peacock, the
pomegranate, and the cuckoo staff, whom you carried over
the river; and, likewise, who it is that speaks through
the lips of the oaken image, that stands in the prow of your
galley. I am acquainted with some of your secrets, you
perceive. It is well for you that I am favorably inclined;
for, otherwise, you would hardly escape being snapped, up
by the dragon."
"I should not so much care for the dragon," replied Jason,
"if I only knew how to manage the brazen-footed and fiery-
lunged bulls."
"If you are as brave as I think you, and as you have need
to be," said Medea, "your own bold heart will teach you
that there is but one way of dealing with a mad bull. What
it is I leave you to find out in the moment of peril. As
for the fiery breath of these animals, I have a charmed oint-
ment here, which will prevent you from being burned up,
and cure you if you chance to be a little scorched."
245
So she put a golden box into his hand, and directed him
how to apply the perfumed unguent which it contained,
and where to meet her at midnight.
"Only be brave," added she, "and before daybreak the
brazen bulls shall be tamed."
The young man assured her that his heart would not fail
him. He then rejoined his comrades, and told them what
had passed between the princess and himself, and warned
them to be in readiness in case there might be need of their
help.
At the appointed hour he met the beautiful Medea on the
marble steps of the king's palace. She gave him a basket,
in which were the dragon's teeth, just as they had been
pulled out of the monster's jaws by Cadmus, long ago. Me-
dea then led Jason down the palace steps, and through the
silent streets of the city, and into the royal pasture ground,
where the two brazen-footed bulls were kept. It was a
starry night, with a bright gleam along the eastern edge of
the sky, where the moon was soon going to show herself.
After entering the pasture, the princess paused and looked
around.
"There they are," said she, "reposing themselves and
chewing their fiery cuds in that farthest corner of the field.
It will be excellent sport, I assure you, when they catch a
glimpse of your figure. My father and all his court delight
in nothing so much as to see a stranger trying to yoke them,
246
AT THE APPOINTE
OUR HE MET THE BEAUTIFUL MEDEJf
in order to come at the Golden Fleece. It makes a holiday
in Colchis whenever such a thing happens. For my part,
I enjoy it immensely. You cannot imagine in what a mere
twinkling of an eye their hot breath shrivels a young man
into a black cinder."
"Are you sure, beautiful Medea," asked Jason, "quite
sure, that the unguent in the gold box will prove a remedy
against those terrible burns?"
"If you doubt, if you are in the least afraid," said the
princess, looking him in the face by the dim starlight, "you
had better never have been born than go a step nigher to the
bulls."
But Jason had set his heart steadfastly on getting the
Golden Fleece; and I positively doubt whether he would
have gone back without it, even had he been certain of find-
ing himself turned into a red-hot cinder, or a handful of
white ashes, the instant he made a step farther. He therefore
let go Medea's hand, and walked boldly forward in the
direction whither she had pointed. At some distance before
him he perceived four streams of fiery vapor, regularly ap-
pearing, and again vanishing, after dimly lighting up the
surrounding obscurity. These, you will understand, were
caused by the breath of the brazen bulls, which was quietly
stealing out of their four nostrils, as they lay chewing their
cuds.
At the first two or three steps which Jason made, the four
247
fiery streams appeared to gush out somewhat more plenti-
fully; for the two brazen bulls had heard his foot tramp, and
were lifting up their hot noses to snuff the air. He went a
little farther, and by the way in which the red vapor now
spouted forth, he judged that the creatures had got upon
their feet. Now he could see glowing sparks, and vivid jets
of flame. At the next step, each of the bulls made the
pasture echo with a terrible roar, while the burning breath,
which they thus belched forth, lit up the whole field with a
momentary flash. One other stride did bold Jason make,
and, suddenly, as a streak of lightning, on came these fiery
animals, roaring like thunder, and sending out sheets of
white flame, which so kindled up the scene that the young
man could discern every object more distinctly than by day-
light. Most distinctly of all he saw the two horrible crea-
tures galloping right down upon him, their brazen hoofs rat-
tling and ringing over the ground, and their tails sticking up
stiffly into the air, as has always been the fashion with angry
bulls. Their breath scorched the herbage before them. So
intensely hot it was, indeed, that it caught a dry tree, under
which Jason was now standing, and set it all in a light blaze.
But as for Jason himself, (thanks to Medea's enchanted
ointment,) the white flame curled around his body, with-
out injuring him a jot more than if he had been made of
asbestos.
Greatly encouraged at finding himself not yet turned into
248
a cinder, the young man awaited the attack of the bulls.
Just as the brazen brutes fancied themselves sure of tossing
him into the air, he caught one of them by the horn, and the
other by his screwed-up tail, and held them in a gripe like
that of an iron vice, one with his right hand, the other with
his left. Well, he must have been wonderfully strong in his
arms, to be sure. But the secret of the matter was, that the
brazen bulls were enchanted creatures, and that Jason had
broken the spell of their fiery fierceness by his bold way of
handling them. And, ever since that time, it has been the
favorite method of brave men, when danger assails them, to
do what they call "taking the bull by the horns ;" and to gripe
him by the tail is pretty much the same thing that is, to
throw aside fear, and overcome the peril by despising it.
It was now easy to yoke the bulls, and to harness them to
the plough, which had lain rusting on the ground for a great
many years gone by ; so long was it before anybody could be
found capable of ploughing that piece of land. Jason, I
suppose, had been taught how to draw a furrow by the good
old Chiron, who, perhaps, used to allow himself to be
harnessed to the plough. At any rate, our hero succeeded
perfectly well in breaking up the greensward; and, by the
time that the moon was a quarter of her journey up the sky,
the ploughed field lay before him, a large tract of black
earth, ready to be sown with the dragon's teeth. So Jason
scattered them broadcast, and harrowed them into the soil
249
with a brush-harrow, and took his stand on the edge of the
field, anxious to see what would happen next.
"Must we wait long for harvest time?" he inquired of
Medea, who was now standing by his side.
"Whether sooner or later, it will be sure to come,"
answered the princess. "A crop of armed men never fails to
spring up, when the dragon's teeth have been sown."
The moon was now high aloft in the heavens, and threw its
bright beams over the ploughed field, where as yet there was
nothing to be seen. Any farmer, on viewing it, would have
said that Jason must wait weeks before the green blades
would peep from among the clods, and whole months before
the yellow grain would be ripened for the sickle. But by
and by, all over the field, there was something that glistened
in the moonbeams, like sparkling drops of dew. These
bright objects sprouted higher, and proved to be the steel
heads of spears. Then there was a dazzling gleam from a
vast number of polished brass helmets, beneath which, as
they grew farther out of the soil, appeared the dark and
bearded visages of warriors, struggling to free themselves
from the imprisoning earth. The first look that they gave at
the upper world was a glare of wrath and defiance. Next
were seen their bright breastplates; in every right hand there
was a sword or a spear, and on each left arm a shield ; and
when this strange crop of warriors had but half grown out of
the earth, they struggled, such was their impatience of
250
restraint, and, as it were, tore themselves up by the roots.
Wherever a dragon's tooth had fallen, there stood a man
armed for battle. They made a clangor with their swords
against their shields and eyed one another fiercely; for they
had come into this beautiful world, and into the peaceful
moonlight, full of rage and stormy passions, and ready to
take the life of every human brother, in recompense of the
boon of their own existence.
There have been many other armies in the world that
seemed to possess the same fierce nature with the one which
had now sprouted from the dragon's teeth; but these, in the
moonlit field, were the more excusable, because they never
had women for their mothers. And how it would have re-
joiced any great captain, who was bent on conquering the
world, like Alexander or Napoleon, to raise a crop of armed
soldiers as easily as Jason did !
For a while, the warriors stood flourishing their weapons,
clashing their swords against their shields, and boiling over
with the red-hot thirst for battle. Then they began to shout
"Show us the enemy ! Lead us to the charge ! Death or
victory! Come on, brave comrades! Conquer or die!"
and a hundred other outcries, such as men always bellow
forth on a battle field, and which these dragon people seemed
to have at their tongues' ends. At last, the front rank caught
sight of Jason, who, beholding the flash of so many weapons
in the moonlight, had thought it best to draw his sword. In
251
a moment all the sons of the dragon's teeth appeared to take
Jason for an enemy; and crying with one voice, "Guard the
Golden Fleece!" they ran at him with uplifted swords and
protruded spears. Jason knew that it would be impossible
to withstand this bloodthirsty battalion with his single arm,
but determined, since there was nothing better to be done, to
die as valiantly as if he himself had sprung from a dragon's
tooth.
Medea, however, bade him snatch up a stone from the
ground.
"Throw it among them quickly!" cried she. "It is the
only way to save yourself."
The armed men were now so nigh that Jason could discern
the fire flashing out of their enraged eyes, when he let fly the
stone, and saw it strike the helmet of a tall warrior, who was
rushing upon him with his blade aloft. The stone glanced
from this man's helmet to the shield of his nearest comrade,
and thence flew right into the angry face of another, hitting
him smartly between the eyes. Each of the three who had
been struck by the stone took it for granted that his next
neighbor had given him a blow; and instead of running any
farther towards Jason, they began a fight among themselves.
The confusion spread through the host, so that it seemed
scarcely a moment before they were all hacking, hewing, and
stabbing at one another, lopping off arms, heads, and legs,
and doing such memorable deeds that Jason was filled with
252
immense admiration; although, at the same time, he could
not help laughing to behold these mighty men punishing
each other for an offence which he himself had committed.
In an incredibly short space of time, (almost as short, indeed,
as it had taken them to grow up,) all but one of the heroes of
the dragon's teeth were stretched lifeless on the field. The
last survivor, the bravest and strongest of the whole, had just
force enough to wave his crimson sword over his head, and
give a shout of exultation, crying, "Victory! Victory!
Immortal fame!" when he himself fell down, and lay quietly
among his slain brethren. And there was the end of the
army that had sprouted from the dragon's teeth. That fierce
and feverish fight was the only enjoyment which they had
tasted on this beautiful earth.
"Let them sleep in the bed of honor," said the Princess
Medea, with a sly smile at Jason. "The world will always
have simpletons enough, just like them, fighting and dying
for they know not what, and fancying that posterity will take
the trouble to put laurel wreaths on their rusty and battered
helmets. Could you help smiling, Prince Jason, to see the
self-conceit of that last fellow, just as he tumbled down?"
"It made me very sad," answered Jason gravely. "And,
to tell you the truth, princess, the Golden Fleece does not
appear so well worth the winning, after what I have here be-
held."
"You will think differently in the morning," said Medea.
253
"True, the Golden Fleece may not be so valuable as you have
thought it; but then there is nothing better in the world;
and one must needs have an object, you know. Come!
Your night's work has been well performed; and to-morrow
you can inform King ./Eetes that the first part of your allot-
ted task is fulfilled."
Agreeably to Medea's advice, Jason went betimes in the
morning to the palace of King ^Eetes. Entering the pres-
ence chamber, he stood at the foot of the throne, and made
a low obeisance.
"Your eyes look heavy, Prince Jason," observed the king;
"you appear to have spent a sleepless night. I hope you
have been considering the matter a little more wisely, and
have concluded not to get yourself scorched to a cinder, in at-
tempting to tame my brazen-lunged bulls."
"That is already accomplished, may it please your ma-
jesty," replied Jason. "The bulls have been tamed and
yoked; the field has been ploughed; the dragon's teeth have
been sown broadcast, and harrowed into the soil ; the crop
of armed warriors have sprung up, and they have slain one
another, to the last man. And now I solicit your majesty's
permission to encounter the dragon, that I may take down
the Golden Fleece from the tree, and depart, with my nine
and forty comrades."
King /Eetes scowled, and looked very angry and exces-
sively disturbed; for he knew that, in accordance with his
254
kingly promise, he ought now to permit Jason to win the
fleece, if his courage and skill should enable him to do so.
But, since the young man had met with such good luck
in the matter of the brazen bulls and the dragon's teeth,
the king feared that he would be equally successful in slay-
ing the dragon. And therefore, though he would gladly
have seen Jason snapped up at a mouthful, he was resolved
(and it was a very wrong thing of this wicked potentate) not
to run any further risk of losing his beloved fleece.
"You never would have succeeded in this business, young
man," said he, "if my undutiful daughter Medea had not
helped you with her enchantments. Had you acted fairly,
you would have been, at this instant, a black cinder, or a
handful of white ashes. I forbid you, on pain of death,
to make any more attempts to get the Golden Fleece. To
speak my mind plainly, you shall never set eyes on so
much as one of its glistening locks."
Jason left the king's presence in great sorrow and anger.
He could think of nothing better to be done than to summon
together his forty-nine brave Argonauts, march at once to
the grove of Mars, slay the dragon, take possession of the
Golden Fleece, get on board the Argo, and spread all sail
for lolchos. The success of this scheme depended, it is true,
on the doubtful point whether all the fifty heroes might not
be snapped up, at so many mouthfuls, by the dragon. But,
as Jason was hastening down the palace steps, the Princess
255
Medea called after him, and beckoned him to return. Her
black eyes shone upon him with such a keen intelligence,
that he felt as if there were a serpent peeping out of them;
and, although she had done him so much service only the
night before, he was by no means very certain that she would
not do him an equally great mischief before sunset. These
enchantresses, you must know, are never to be depended
upon.
"What says King /Eetes, my royal and upright father?"
inquired Medea, slightly smiling. "Will he give you the
Golden Fleece, without any further risk or trouble?"
"On the contrary," answered Jason, "he is very angry
with me for taming the brazen bulls and sowing the dragon's
teeth. And he forbids me to make any more attempts, and
positively refuses to give up the Golden Fleece, whether I
slay the dragon or no."
"Yes, Jason," said the princess, "and I can tell you more.
Unless you set sail from Colchis before to-morrow's sunrise,
the king means to burn your fifty oared galley, and put
yourself and your forty-nine brave comrades to the sword.
But be of good courage. The Golden Fleece you shall
have, if it lies within the power of my enchantments to get
it for you. Wait for me here an hour before midnight."
At the appointed hour, you might again have seen Prince
Jason and the Princess Medea, side by side, stealing through
the streets of Colchis, on their way to the sacred grove, in the
256
'WHAT is IT"? ASKED JASON
center of which the Golden Fleece was suspended to a tree.
While they were crossing the pasture ground, the brazen
bulls came towards Jason, lowing, nodding their heads, and
thrusting forth their snouts, which, as other cattle do, they
loved to have rubbed and caressed by a friendly hand.
Their fierce nature was thoroughly tamed; and, with their
fierceness, the two furnaces in their stomachs had likewise
been extinguished, insomuch that they probably enjoyed far
more comfort in grazing and chewing their cuds than ever
before. Indeed, it had heretofore been a great inconven-
ience to these poor animals, that, whenever they wished to eat
a mouthful of grass, the fire out of their nostrils had shriv-
elled it up, before they could manage to crop it. How they
contrived to keep themselves alive is more than I can im-
agine. But now, instead of emitting jets of flame and
streams of sulphurous vapor, they breathed the very sweetest
of cow breath.
After kindly patting the bulls, Jason followed Medea's
guidance into the Grove of Mars, where the great oak trees,
that had been growing for centuries, threw so thick a shade
that the moonbeams struggled vainly to find their way
through it. Only here and there a glimmer fell upon the
leaf-strewn earth, or now and then a breeze stirred the
boughs aside, and gave Jason a glimpse of the sky, lest, in
that deep obscurity, he might forget that there was one,
overhead. At length, when they had gone farther and far-
257
II
ther into the heart of the duskiness, Medea squeezed Jason's
hand.
"Look yonder," she whispered. "Do you see it?"
Gleaming among the venerable oaks, there was a radi-
ance, not like the moonbeams, but rather resembling the
golden glory of the setting sun. It proceeded from an ob-
ject, which appeared to be suspended at about a man's height
from the ground, a little farther within the wood.
"What is it?" asked Jason.
"Have you come so far to seek it," exclaimed Medea, "and
do you not recognize the meed of all your toils and perils,
when it glitters before your eyes? It is the Golden Fleece."
Jason went onward a few steps farther, and then stopped
to gaze. O, how beautiful it looked, shining with a mar-
vellous light of its own, that inestimable prize, which so
many heroes had longed to behold, but had perished in the
quest of it, either by the perils of their voyage, or by the
fiery breath of the brazen-lunged bulls.
"How gloriously it shines!" cried Jason, in a rapture.
"It has surely been dipped in the richest gold of sunset. Let
me hasten onward, and take it to my bosom."
"Stay," said Medea, holding him back. "Have you for-
gotten what guards it?"
To say the truth, in the joy of beholding the object of
his desires, the terrible dragon had quite slipped out of
Jason's memory. Soon, however, something came to pass,
258
that reminded him what perils were still to be encountered.
An antelope, that probably mistook the yellow radiance for
sunrise, came bounding fleetly through the grove. He was
rushing straight towards the Golden Fleece, when suddenly
there was a frightful hiss, and the immense head and half
the scaly body of the dragon was thrust forth, (for he was
twisted round the trunk of the tree on which the fleece hung,)
and seizing the poor antelope, swallowed him with one snap
of his jaws.
After this feat, the dragon seemed sensible that some other
living creature was within reach, on which he felt inclined
to finish his meal. In various directions he kept poking his
ugly snout among the trees, stretching out his neck a ter-
rible long way, now here, now there, and now close to the
spot where Jason and the Princess were hiding behind an
oak. Upon my word, as the head came waving and undu-
lating through the air, and reaching almost within arm's
length of Prince Jason, it was a very hideous and uncom-
fortable sight. The gape of his enormous jaws was nearly
as wide as the gateway of the king's palace.
"Well, Jason," whispered Medea, (for she was ill-natured,
as all enchantresses are, and wanted to make the bold youth
tremble,) "what do you think now of your prospect of win-
ning the Golden Fleece?"
Jason answered only by drawing his sword, and making
a step forward.
259
"Stay, foolish youth," said Medea, grasping his arm.
"Do not you see you are lost, without me as your good
angel? In this gold box I have a magic potion, which will
do the dragon's business far more effectively than your
sword."
The dragon had probably heard the voices; for swift as
lightning, his black head and forked tongue came hissing
among the trees again, darting full forty feet at a stretch.
As it approached, Medea tossed the contents of the gold
box right down the monster's wide-open throat. Immedi-
ately, with an outrageous hiss and a tremendous wriggle,
flinging his tail up to the tip-top of the tallest tree, and shat-
tering all its branches as it crashed heavily down again,
the dragon fell at full length upon the ground, and lay quite
motionless.
"It is only a sleeping potion," said the enchantress to
Prince Jason. "One always finds a use for these mischiev-
ous creatures, sooner or later; so I did not wish to kill him
outright. Quick! Snatch the prize, and let us begone.
You have won the Golden Fleece."
Jason caught the fleece from the tree, and hurried through
the grove, the deep shadows of which were illuminated as
he passed by the golden glory of the precious object that
he bore along. A little way before him, he beheld the old
woman whom he had helped over the stream, with her
peacock beside her. She clapped her hands for joy, and
260
beckoning him to make haste, disappeared among the duski-
ness of the trees. Espying the two winged sons of the North
Wind, (who were disporting themselves in the moonlight,
a few hundred feet aloft,) Jason bade them tell the rest
of the Argonauts to embark as speedily as possible. But
Lynceus, with his sharp eyes, had already caught a glimpse
of him, bringing the Golden Fleece, although several stone
walls, a hill, and the black shadows of the grove of Mars,
intervened between. By his advice, the heroes had seated
themselves on the benches of the galley, with their oars held
perpendicularly, ready to let fall into the water.
As Jason drew near, he heard the Talking Image calling
to him with more than ordinary eagerness, in its grave,
sweet voice :
"Make haste, Prince Jason! For your life, make haste!"
With one bound, he leaped aboard. At sight of the
glorious radiance of the Golden Fleece, the nine and forty
heroes gave a mighty shout, and Orpheus, striking his harp,
sang a song of triumph, to the cadence of which the galley
flew over the water, homeward bound, as if careering along
with wings !
261
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