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A WONDER BOOK
AND
TANGLEWOOD TALES
FOR GIRLS AND BOYS
BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
WITH PICTURES BY
MAXFIELD PARRISH
NEW YORK
DUFFIELD & COMPANY
MCMX
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY DUFFIELD & COMPANY
THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.
[Illustration: JASON AND THE TALKING OAK
(From the original in the collection of Austin M. Purves, Esqu're
Philadelphia)]
Preface
The author has long been of opinion that many of the classical myths
were capable of being rendered into very capital reading for children.
In the little volume here offered to the public, he has worked up half a
dozen of them, with this end in view. A great freedom of treatment was
necessary to his plan; but it will be observed by every one who attempts
to render these legends malleable in his intellectual furnace, that they
are marvellously independent of all temporary modes and circumstances.
They remain essentially the same, after changes that would affect the
identity of almost anything else.
He does not, therefore, plead guilty to a sacrilege, in having sometimes
shaped anew, as his fancy dictated, the forms that have been hallowed by
an antiquity of two or three thousand years. No epoch of time can claim
a copyright in these immortal fables. They seem never to have been made;
and certainly, so long as man exists, they can never perish; but, by
their indestructibility itself, they are legitimate subjects for every
age to clothe with its own garniture of manners and sentiment, and to
imbue with its own morality. In the present version they may have lost
much of their classical aspect (or, at all events, the author has not
been careful to preserve it), and have, perhaps, assumed a Gothic or
romantic guise.
In performing this pleasant task,--for it has been really a task fit for
hot weather, and one of the most agreeable, of a literary kind, which
he ever undertook,--the author has not always thought it necessary to
write downward, in order to meet the comprehension of children. He has
generally suffered the theme to soar, whenever such was its tendency,
and when he himself was buoyant enough to follow without an effort.
Children possess an unestimated sensibility to whatever is deep or high,
in imagination or feeling, so long as it is simple, likewise. It is only
the artificial and the complex that bewilder them.
LENOX, _July 15, 1851_.
Contents
A Wonder Book for Girls and Boys
The Gorgon's Head
The Golden Touch
The Paradise of Children
The Three Golden Apples
The Miraculous Pitcher
The Chimaera
Tanglewood Tales
The Wayside--_Introductory_
The Minotaur
The Pygmies
The Dragon's Teeth
Circe's Palace
The Pomegranate Seeds
The Golden Fleece
Illustrations
JASON AND THE TALKING OAK
PANDORA
ATLAS
BELLEROPHON BY THE FOUNTAIN OF PIRENE
THE FOUNTAIN OF PIRENE
CADMUS SOWING THE DRAGON'S TEETH
CIRCE'S PALACE
PROSERPINA
JASON AND HIS TEACHER
THE ARGONAUTS IN QUEST OF THE GOLDEN FLEECE
A Wonder Book
THE GORGON'S HEAD
Tanglewood Porch
_Introductory to "The Gorgon's Head"_
Beneath the porch of the country-seat called Tanglewood, one fine
autumnal morning, was assembled a merry party of little folks, with a
tall youth in the midst of them. They had planned a nutting expedition,
and were impatiently waiting for the mists to roll up the hill-slopes,
and for the sun to pour the warmth of the Indian summer over the fields
and pastures, and into the nooks of the many-colored woods. There was a
prospect of as fine a day as ever gladdened the aspect of this beautiful
and comfortable world. As yet, however, the morning mist filled up the
whole length and breadth of the valley, above which, on a gently sloping
eminence, the mansion stood.
This body of white vapor extended to within less than a hundred yards of
the house. It completely hid everything beyond that distance, except a
few ruddy or yellow tree-tops, which here and there emerged, and were
glorified by the early sunshine, as was likewise the broad surface of
the mist. Four or five miles off to the southward rose the summit of
Monument Mountain, and seemed to be floating on a cloud. Some fifteen
miles farther away, in the same direction, appeared the loftier Dome of
Taconic, looking blue and indistinct, and hardly so substantial as the
vapory sea that almost rolled over it. The nearer hills, which bordered
the valley, were half submerged, and were specked with little
cloud-wreaths all the way to their tops. On the whole, there was so
much cloud, and so little solid earth, that it had the effect of a
vision.
The children above-mentioned, being as full of life as they could hold,
kept overflowing from the porch of Tanglewood, and scampering along the
gravel-walk, or rushing across the dewy herbage of the lawn. I can
hardly tell how many of these small people there were; not less than
nine or ten, however, nor more than a dozen, of all sorts, sizes, and
ages, whether girls or boys. They were brothers, sisters, and cousins,
together with a few of their young acquaintances, who had been invited
by Mr. and Mrs. Pringle to spend some of this delightful weather with
their own children, at Tanglewood. I am afraid to tell you their names,
or even to give them any names which other children have ever been
called by; because, to my certain knowledge, authors sometimes get
themselves into great trouble by accidentally giving the names of real
persons to the characters in their books. For this reason I mean to call
them Primrose, Periwinkle, Sweet Fern, Dandelion, Blue Eye, Clover,
Huckleberry, Cowslip, Squash-Blossom, Milkweed, Plantain, and Buttercup;
although, to be sure, such titles might better suit a group of fairies
than a company of earthly children.
It is not to be supposed that these little folks were to be permitted by
their careful fathers and mothers, uncles, aunts, or grandparents, to
stray abroad into the woods and fields, without the guardianship of some
particularly grave and elderly person. Oh no, indeed! In the first
sentence of my book, you will recollect that I spoke of a tall youth,
standing in the midst of the children. His name--(and I shall let you
know his real name, because he considers it a great honor to have told
the stories that are here to be printed)--his name was Eustace Bright.
He was a student at Williams College, and had reached, I think, at this
period, the venerable age of eighteen years; so that he felt quite like
a grandfather towards Periwinkle, Dandelion, Huckleberry,
Squash-Blossom, Milkweed, and the rest, who were only half or a third as
venerable as he. A trouble in his eyesight (such as many students think
it necessary to have, nowadays, in order to prove their diligence at
their books) had kept him from college a week or two after the beginning
of the term. But, for my part, I have seldom met with a pair of eyes
that looked as if they could see farther or better than those of Eustace
Bright.
This learned student was slender, and rather pale, as all Yankee
students are; but yet of a healthy aspect, and as light and active as if
he had wings to his shoes. By the by, being much addicted to wading
through streamlets and across meadows, he had put on cowhide boots for
the expedition. He wore a linen blouse, a cloth cap, and a pair of green
spectacles, which he had assumed, probably, less for the preservation of
his eyes than for the dignity that they imparted to his countenance. In
either case, however, he might as well have let them alone; for
Huckleberry, a mischievous little elf, crept behind Eustace as he sat on
the steps of the porch, snatched the spectacles from his nose, and
clapped them on her own; and as the student forgot to take them back,
they fell off into the grass, and lay there till the next spring.
Now, Eustace Bright, you must know, had won great fame among the
children, as a narrator of wonderful stories; and though he sometimes
pretended to be annoyed, when they teased him for more, and more, and
always for more, yet I really doubt whether he liked anything quite so
well as to tell them. You might have seen his eyes twinkle, therefore,
when Clover, Sweet Fern, Cowslip, Buttercup, and most of their
playmates, besought him to relate one of his stories, while they were
waiting for the mist to clear up.
"Yes, Cousin Eustace," said Primrose, who was a bright girl of twelve,
with laughing eyes, and a nose that turned up a little, "the morning is
certainly the best time for the stories with which you so often tire out
our patience. We shall be in less danger of hurting your feelings, by
falling asleep at the most interesting points,--as little Cowslip and I
did last night!"
"Naughty Primrose," cried Cowslip, a child of six years old; "I did not
fall asleep, and I only shut my eyes, so as to see a picture of what
Cousin Eustace was telling about. His stories are good to hear at night,
because we can dream about them asleep; and good in the morning, too,
because then we can dream about them awake. So I hope he will tell us
one this very minute."
"Thank you, my little Cowslip," said Eustace; "certainly you shall have
the best story I can think of, if it were only for defending me so well
from that naughty Primrose. But, children, I have already told you so
many fairy tales, that I doubt whether there is a single one which you
have not heard at least twice over. I am afraid you will fall asleep in
reality, if I repeat any of them again."
"No, no, no!" cried Blue Eye, Periwinkle, Plantain, and half a dozen
others. "We like a story all the better for having heard it two or three
times before."
And it is a truth, as regards children, that a story seems often to
deepen its mark in their interest, not merely by two or three, but by
numberless repetitions. But Eustace Bright, in the exuberance of his
resources, scorned to avail himself of an advantage which an older
story-teller would have been glad to grasp at.
"It would be a great pity," said he, "if a man of my learning (to say
nothing of original fancy) could not find a new story every day, year in
and year out, for children such as you. I will tell you one of the
nursery tales that were made for the amusement of our great old
grandmother, the Earth, when she was a child in frock and pinafore.
There are a hundred such; and it is a wonder to me that they have not
long ago been put into picture-books for little girls and boys. But,
instead of that, old gray-bearded grandsires pore over them in musty
volumes of Greek, and puzzle themselves with trying to find out when,
and how, and for what they were made."
"Well, well, well, well, Cousin Eustace!" cried all the children at
once; "talk no more about your stories, but begin."
"Sit down, then, every soul of you," said Eustace Bright, "and be all as
still as so many mice. At the slightest interruption, whether from
great, naughty Primrose, little Dandelion, or any other, I shall bite
the story short off between my teeth, and swallow the untold part. But,
in the first place, do any of you know what a Gorgon is?"
"I do," said Primrose.
"Then hold your tongue!" rejoined Eustace, who had rather she would have
known nothing about the matter. "Hold all your tongues, and I shall tell
you a sweet pretty story of a Gorgon's head."
And so he did, as you may begin to read on the next page. Working up his
sophomorical erudition with a good deal of tact, and incurring great
obligations to Professor Anthon, he, nevertheless, disregarded all
classical authorities, whenever the vagrant audacity of his imagination
impelled him to do so.
The Gorgon's Head
Perseus was the son of Danae, who was the daughter of a king. And when
Perseus was a very little boy, some wicked people put his mother and
himself into a chest, and set them afloat upon the sea. The wind blew
freshly, and drove the chest away from the shore, and the uneasy billows
tossed it up and down; while Danae clasped her child closely to her
bosom, and dreaded that some big wave would dash its foamy crest over
them both. The chest sailed on, however, and neither sank nor was upset;
until, when night was coming, it floated so near an island that it got
entangled in a fisherman's nets, and was drawn out high and dry upon the
sand. The island was called Seriphus, and it was reigned over by King
Polydectes, who happened to be the fisherman's brother.
This fisherman, I am glad to tell you, was an exceedingly humane and
upright man. He showed great kindness to Danae and her little boy; and
continued to befriend them, until Perseus had grown to be a handsome
youth, very strong and active, and skilful in the use of arms. Long
before this time, King Polydectes had seen the two strangers--the mother
and her child--who had come to his dominions in a floating chest. As he
was not good and kind, like his brother the fisherman, but extremely
wicked, he resolved to send Perseus on a dangerous enterprise, in which
he would probably be killed, and then to do some great mischief to Danae
herself. So this bad-hearted king spent a long while in considering what
was the most dangerous thing that a young man could possibly undertake
to perform. At last, having hit upon an enterprise that promised to
turn out as fatally as he desired, he sent for the youthful Perseus.
The young man came to the palace, and found the king sitting upon his
throne.
"Perseus," said King Polydectes, smiling craftily upon him, "you are
grown up a fine young man. You and your good mother have received a
great deal of kindness from myself, as well as from my worthy brother
the fisherman, and I suppose you would not be sorry to repay some of
it."
"Please your Majesty," answered Perseus, "I would willingly risk my life
to do so."
"Well, then," continued the king, still with a cunning smile on his
lips, "I have a little adventure to propose to you; and, as you are a
brave and enterprising youth, you will doubtless look upon it as a great
piece of good luck to have so rare an opportunity of distinguishing
yourself. You must know, my good Perseus, I think of getting married to
the beautiful Princess Hippodamia; and it is customary, on these
occasions, to make the bride a present of some far-fetched and elegant
curiosity. I have been a little perplexed, I must honestly confess,
where to obtain anything likely to please a princess of her exquisite
taste. But, this morning, I flatter myself, I have thought of precisely
the article."
"And can I assist your Majesty in obtaining it?" cried Perseus, eagerly.
"You can, if you are as brave a youth as I believe you to be," replied
King Polydectes, with the utmost graciousness of manner. "The bridal
gift which I have set my heart on presenting to the beautiful Hippodamia
is the head of the Gorgon Medusa with the snaky locks; and I depend on
you, my dear Perseus, to bring it to me. So, as I am anxious to settle
affairs with the princess, the sooner you go in quest of the Gorgon, the
better I shall be pleased."
"I will set out to-morrow morning," answered Perseus.
"Pray do so, my gallant youth," rejoined the king. "And, Perseus, in
cutting off the Gorgon's head, be careful to make a clean stroke, so as
not to injure its appearance. You must bring it home in the very best
condition, in order to suit the exquisite taste of the beautiful
Princess Hippodamia."
Perseus left the palace, but was scarcely out of hearing before
Polydectes burst into a laugh; being greatly amused, wicked king that he
was, to find how readily the young man fell into the snare. The news
quickly spread abroad that Perseus had undertaken to cut off the head of
Medusa with the snaky locks. Everybody was rejoiced; for most of the
inhabitants of the island were as wicked as the king himself, and would
have liked nothing better than to see some enormous mischief happen to
Danae and her son. The only good man in this unfortunate island of
Seriphus appears to have been the fisherman. As Perseus walked along,
therefore, the people pointed after him, and made mouths, and winked to
one another, and ridiculed him as loudly as they dared.
"Ho, ho!" cried they; "Medusa's snakes will sting him soundly!"
Now, there were three Gorgons alive at that period; and they were the
most strange and terrible monsters that had ever been since the world
was made, or that have been seen in after days, or that are likely to be
seen in all time to come. I hardly know what sort of creature or
hobgoblin to call them. They were three sisters, and seem to have borne
some distant resemblance to women, but were really a very frightful and
mischievous species of dragon. It is, indeed, difficult to imagine what
hideous beings these three sisters were. Why, instead of locks of hair,
if you can believe me, they had each of them a hundred enormous snakes
growing on their heads, all alive, twisting, wriggling, curling, and
thrusting out their venomous tongues, with forked stings at the end!
The teeth of the Gorgons were terribly long tusks; their hands were made
of brass; and their bodies were all over scales, which, if not iron,
were something as hard and impenetrable. They had wings, too, and
exceedingly splendid ones, I can assure you; for every feather in them
was pure, bright, glittering, burnished gold, and they looked very
dazzlingly, no doubt, when the Gorgons were flying about in the
sunshine.
But when people happened to catch a glimpse of their glittering
brightness, aloft in the air, they seldom stopped to gaze, but ran and
hid themselves as speedily as they could. You will think, perhaps, that
they were afraid of being stung by the serpents that served the Gorgons
instead of hair,--or of having their heads bitten off by their ugly
tusks,--or of being torn all to pieces by their brazen claws. Well, to
be sure, these were some of the dangers, but by no means the greatest,
nor the most difficult to avoid. For the worst thing about these
abominable Gorgons was, that, if once a poor mortal fixed his eyes full
upon one of their faces, he was certain, that very instant, to be
changed from warm flesh and blood into cold and lifeless stone!
Thus, as you will easily perceive, it was a very dangerous adventure
that the wicked King Polydectes had contrived for this innocent young
man. Perseus himself, when he had thought over the matter, could not
help seeing that he had very little chance of coming safely through it,
and that he was far more likely to become a stone image than to bring
back the head of Medusa with the snaky locks. For, not to speak of other
difficulties, there was one which it would have puzzled an older man
than Perseus to get over. Not only must he fight with and slay this
golden-winged, iron-scaled, long-tusked, brazen-clawed, snaky-haired
monster, but he must do it with his eyes shut, or, at least, without so
much as a glance at the enemy with whom he was contending. Else, while
his arm was lifted to strike, he would stiffen into stone, and stand
with that uplifted arm for centuries, until time, and the wind and
weather, should crumble him quite away. This would be a very sad thing
to befall a young man who wanted to perform a great many brave deeds,
and to enjoy a great deal of happiness, in this bright and beautiful
world.
So disconsolate did these thoughts make him, that Perseus could not bear
to tell his mother what he had undertaken to do. He therefore took his
shield, girded on his sword, and crossed over from the island to the
mainland, where he sat down in a solitary place, and hardly refrained
from shedding tears.
But, while he was in this sorrowful mood, he heard a voice close beside
him.
"Perseus," said the voice, "why are you sad?"
He lifted his head from his hands, in which he had hidden it, and
behold! all alone as Perseus had supposed himself to be, there was a
stranger in the solitary place. It was a brisk, intelligent, and
remarkably shrewd-looking young man, with a cloak over his shoulders, an
odd sort of cap on his head, a strangely twisted staff in his hand, and
a short and very crooked sword hanging by his side. He was exceedingly
light and active in his figure, like a person much accustomed to
gymnastic exercises, and well able to leap or run. Above all, the
stranger had such a cheerful, knowing, and helpful aspect (though it was
certainly a little mischievous, into the bargain), that Perseus could
not help feeling his spirits grow livelier as he gazed at him. Besides,
being really a courageous youth, he felt greatly ashamed that anybody
should have found him with tears in his eyes, like a timid little
school-boy, when, after all, there might be no occasion for despair. So
Perseus wiped his eyes, and answered the stranger pretty briskly,
putting on as brave a look as he could.
"I am not so very sad," said he, "only thoughtful about an adventure
that I have undertaken."
"Oho!" answered the stranger. "Well, tell me all about it, and possibly
I may be of service to you. I have helped a good many young men through
adventures that looked difficult enough beforehand. Perhaps you may have
heard of me. I have more names than one; but the name of Quicksilver
suits me as well as any other. Tell me what the trouble is, and we will
talk the matter over, and see what can be done."
The stranger's words and manner put Perseus into quite a different mood
from his former one. He resolved to tell Quicksilver all his
difficulties, since he could not easily be worse off than he already
was, and, very possibly, his new friend might give him some advice that
would turn out well in the end. So he let the stranger know, in few
words, precisely what the case was,--how that King Polydectes wanted the
head of Medusa with the snaky locks as a bridal gift for the beautiful
Princess Hippodamia, and how that he had undertaken to get it for him,
but was afraid of being turned into stone.
"And that would be a great pity," said Quicksilver, with his mischievous
smile. "You would make a very handsome marble statue, it is true, and it
would be a considerable number of centuries before you crumbled away;
but, on the whole, one would rather be a young man for a few years, than
a stone image for a great many."
"Oh, far rather!" exclaimed Perseus, with the tears again standing in
his eyes. "And, besides, what would my dear mother do, if her beloved
son were turned into a stone?"
"Well, well, let us hope that the affair will not turn out so very
badly," replied Quicksilver, in an encouraging tone. "I am the very
person to help you, if anybody can. My sister and myself will do our
utmost to bring you safe through the adventure, ugly as it now looks."
"Your sister?" repeated Perseus.
"Yes, my sister," said the stranger. "She is very wise, I promise you;
and as for myself, I generally have all my wits about me, such as they
are. If you show yourself bold and cautious, and follow our advice, you
need not fear being a stone image yet awhile. But, first of all, you
must polish your shield, till you can see your face in it as distinctly
as in a mirror."
This seemed to Perseus rather an odd beginning of the adventure; for he
thought it of far more consequence that the shield should be strong
enough to defend him from the Gorgon's brazen claws, than that it should
be bright enough to show him the reflection of his face. However,
concluding that Quicksilver knew better than himself, he immediately set
to work, and scrubbed the shield with so much diligence and good-will,
that it very quickly shone like the moon at harvest-time. Quicksilver
looked at it with a smile, and nodded his approbation. Then, taking off
his own short and crooked sword, he girded it about Perseus, instead of
the one which he had before worn.
"No sword but mine will answer your purpose," observed he; "the blade
has a most excellent temper, and will cut through iron and brass as
easily as through the slenderest twig. And now we will set out. The next
thing is to find the Three Gray Women, who will tell us where to find
the Nymphs."
"The Three Gray Women!" cried Perseus, to whom this seemed only a new
difficulty in the path of his adventure; "pray who may the Three Gray
Women be? I never heard of them before."
"They are three very strange old ladies," said Quicksilver, laughing.
"They have but one eye among them, and only one tooth. Moreover, you
must find them out by starlight, or in the dusk of the evening; for they
never show themselves by the light either of the sun or moon."
"But," said Perseus, "why should I waste my time with these Three Gray
Women? Would it not be better to set out at once in search of the
terrible Gorgons?"
"No, no," answered his friend. "There are other things to be done,
before you can find your way to the Gorgons. There is nothing for it but
to hunt up these old ladies; and when we meet with them, you may be sure
that the Gorgons are not a great way off. Come, let us be stirring!"
Perseus, by this time, felt so much confidence in his companion's
sagacity, that he made no more objections, and professed himself ready
to begin the adventure immediately. They accordingly set out, and walked
at a pretty brisk pace; so brisk, indeed, that Perseus found it rather
difficult to keep up with his nimble friend Quicksilver. To say the
truth, he had a singular idea that Quicksilver was furnished with a pair
of winged shoes, which, of course, helped him along marvellously. And
then, too, when Perseus looked sideways at him, out of the corner of his
eye, he seemed to see wings on the side of his head; although, if he
turned a full gaze, there were no such things to be perceived, but only
an odd kind of cap. But, at all events, the twisted staff was evidently
a great convenience to Quicksilver, and enabled him to proceed so fast,
that Perseus, though a remarkably active young man, began to be out of
breath.
"Here!" cried Quicksilver, at last,--for he knew well enough, rogue that
he was, how hard Perseus found it to keep pace with him,--"take you the
staff, for you need it a great deal more than I. Are there no better
walkers than yourself in the island of Seriphus?"
"I could walk pretty well," said Perseus, glancing slyly at his
companion's feet, "if I had only a pair of winged shoes."
"We must see about getting you a pair," answered Quicksilver.
But the staff helped Perseus along so bravely, that he no longer felt
the slightest weariness. In fact, the stick seemed to be alive in his
hand, and to lend some of its life to Perseus. He and Quicksilver now
walked onward at their ease, talking very sociably together; and
Quicksilver told so many pleasant stories about his former adventures,
and how well his wits had served him on various occasions, that Perseus
began to think him a very wonderful person. He evidently knew the world;
and nobody is so charming to a young man as a friend who has that kind
of knowledge. Perseus listened the more eagerly, in the hope of
brightening his own wits by what he heard.
At last, he happened to recollect that Quicksilver had spoken of a
sister, who was to lend her assistance in the adventure which they were
now bound upon.
"Where is she?" he inquired. "Shall we not meet her soon?"
"All at the proper time," said his companion. "But this sister of mine,
you must understand, is quite a different sort of character from myself.
She is very grave and prudent, seldom smiles, never laughs, and makes it
a rule not to utter a word unless she has something particularly
profound to say. Neither will she listen to any but the wisest
conversation."
"Dear me!" ejaculated Perseus; "I shall be afraid to say a syllable."
"She is a very accomplished person, I assure you," continued
Quicksilver, "and has all the arts and sciences at her fingers' ends. In
short, she is so immoderately wise, that many people call her wisdom
personified. But, to tell you the truth, she has hardly vivacity enough
for my taste; and I think you would scarcely find her so pleasant a
travelling companion as myself. She has her good points, nevertheless;
and you will find the benefit of them, in your encounter with the
Gorgons."
By this time it had grown quite dusk. They were now come to a very wild
and desert place, overgrown with shaggy bushes, and so silent and
solitary that nobody seemed ever to have dwelt or journeyed there. All
was waste and desolate, in the gray twilight, which grew every moment
more obscure. Perseus looked about him, rather disconsolately, and
asked Quicksilver whether they had a great deal farther to go.
"Hist! hist!" whispered his companion. "Make no noise! This is just the
time and place to meet the Three Gray Women. Be careful that they do not
see you before you see them; for, though they have but a single eye
among the three, it is as sharp-sighted as half a dozen common eyes."
"But what must I do," asked Perseus, "when we meet them?"
Quicksilver explained to Perseus how the Three Gray Women managed with
their one eye. They were in the habit, it seems, of changing it from one
to another, as if it had been a pair of spectacles, or--which would have
suited them better--a quizzing-glass. When one of the three had kept the
eye a certain time, she took it out of the socket and passed it to one
of her sisters, whose turn it might happen to be, and who immediately
clapped it into her own head, and enjoyed a peep at the visible world.
Thus it will easily be understood that only one of the Three Gray Women
could see, while the other two were in utter darkness; and, moreover, at
the instant when the eye was passing from hand to hand, neither of the
poor old ladies was able to see a wink. I have heard of a great many
strange things, in my day, and have witnessed not a few; but none, it
seems to me, that can compare with the oddity of these Three Gray Women,
all peeping through a single eye.
So thought Perseus, likewise, and was so astonished that he almost
fancied his companion was joking with him, and that there were no such
old women in the world.
"You will soon find whether I tell the truth or no," observed
Quicksilver. "Hark! hush! hist! hist! There they come, now!"
Perseus looked earnestly through the dusk of the evening, and there,
sure enough, at no great distance off, he descried the Three Gray Women.
The light being so faint, he could not well make out what sort of
figures they were; only he discovered that they had long gray hair; and,
as they came nearer, he saw that two of them had but the empty socket of
an eye, in the middle of their foreheads. But, in the middle of the
third sister's forehead, there was a very large, bright, and piercing
eye, which sparkled like a great diamond in a ring; and so penetrating
did it seem to be, that Perseus could not help thinking it must possess
the gift of seeing in the darkest midnight just as perfectly as at
noonday. The sight of three persons' eyes was melted and collected into
that single one.
Thus the three old dames got along about as comfortably, upon the whole,
as if they could all see at once. She who chanced to have the eye in her
forehead led the other two by the hands, peeping sharply about her, all
the while; insomuch that Perseus dreaded lest she should see right
through the thick clump of bushes behind which he and Quicksilver had
hidden themselves. My stars! it was positively terrible to be within
reach of so very sharp an eye!
But, before they reached the clump of bushes, one of the Three Gray
Women spoke.
"Sister! Sister Scarecrow!" cried she, "you have had the eye long
enough. It is my turn now!"
"Let me keep it a moment longer, Sister Nightmare," answered Scarecrow.
"I thought I had a glimpse of something behind that thick bush."
"Well, and what of that?" retorted Nightmare, peevishly. "Can't I see
into a thick bush as easily as yourself? The eye is mine as well as
yours; and I know the use of it as well as you, or may be a little
better. I insist upon taking a peep immediately!"
But here the third sister, whose name was Shakejoint, began to complain,
and said that it was her turn to have the eye, and that Scarecrow and
Nightmare wanted to keep it all to themselves. To end the dispute, old
Dame Scarecrow took the eye out of her forehead, and held it forth in
her hand.
"Take it, one of you," cried she, "and quit this foolish quarrelling.
For my part, I shall be glad of a little thick darkness. Take it
quickly, however, or I must clap it into my own head again!"
Accordingly, both Nightmare and Shakejoint put out their hands, groping
eagerly to snatch the eye out of the hand of Scarecrow. But, being both
alike blind, they could not easily find where Scarecrow's hand was; and
Scarecrow, being now just as much in the dark as Shakejoint and
Nightmare, could not at once meet either of their hands, in order to put
the eye into it. Thus (as you will see, with half an eye, my wise little
auditors), these good old dames had fallen into a strange perplexity.
For, though the eye shone and glistened like a star, as Scarecrow held
it out, yet the Gray Women caught not the least glimpse of its light,
and were all three in utter darkness, from too impatient a desire to
see.
Quicksilver was so much tickled at beholding Shakejoint and Nightmare
both groping for the eye, and each finding fault with Scarecrow and one
another, that he could scarcely help laughing aloud.
"Now is your time!" he whispered to Perseus. "Quick, quick! before they
can clap the eye into either of their heads. Rush out upon the old
ladies, and snatch it from Scarecrow's hand!"
In an instant, while the Three Gray Women were still scolding each
other, Perseus leaped from behind the clump of bushes, and made himself
master of the prize. The marvellous eye, as he held it in his hand,
shone very brightly, and seemed to look up into his face with a knowing
air, and an expression as if it would have winked, had it been provided
with a pair of eyelids for that purpose. But the Gray Women knew nothing
of what had happened; and, each supposing that one of her sisters was
in possession of the eye, they began their quarrel anew. At last, as
Perseus did not wish to put these respectable dames to greater
inconvenience than was really necessary, he thought it right to explain
the matter.
"My good ladies," said he, "pray do not be angry with one another. If
anybody is in fault, it is myself; for I have the honor to hold your
very brilliant and excellent eye in my own hand!"
"You! you have our eye! And who are you?" screamed the Three Gray Women,
all in a breath; for they were terribly frightened, of course, at
hearing a strange voice, and discovering that their eyesight had got
into the hands of they could not guess whom. "Oh, what shall we do,
sisters? what shall we do? We are all in the dark! Give us our eye! Give
us our one, precious, solitary eye! You have two of your own! Give us
our eye!"
"Tell them," whispered Quicksilver to Perseus, "that they shall have
back the eye as soon as they direct you where to find the Nymphs who
have the flying slippers, the magic wallet, and the helmet of darkness."
"My dear, good, admirable old ladies," said Perseus, addressing the Gray
Women, "there is no occasion for putting yourselves into such a fright.
I am by no means a bad young man. You shall have back your eye, safe and
sound, and as bright as ever, the moment you tell me where to find the
Nymphs."
"The Nymphs! Goodness me! sisters, what Nymphs does he mean?" screamed
Scarecrow. "There are a great many Nymphs, people say; some that go a
hunting in the woods, and some that live inside of trees, and some that
have a comfortable home in fountains of water. We know nothing at all
about them. We are three unfortunate old souls, that go wandering about
in the dusk, and never had but one eye amongst us, and that one you
have stolen away. Oh, give it back, good stranger!--whoever you are,
give it back!"
All this while the Three Gray Women were groping with their outstretched
hands, and trying their utmost to get hold of Perseus. But he took good
care to keep out of their reach.
"My respectable dames," said he,--for his mother had taught him always
to use the greatest civility,--"I hold your eye fast in my hand, and
shall keep it safely for you, until you please to tell me where to find
these Nymphs. The Nymphs, I mean, who keep the enchanted wallet, the
flying slippers, and the what is it?--the helmet of invisibility."
"Mercy on us, sisters! what is the young man talking about?" exclaimed
Scarecrow, Nightmare, and Shakejoint, one to another, with great
appearance of astonishment. "A pair of flying slippers, quoth he! His
heels would quickly fly higher than his head, if he were silly enough to
put them on. And a helmet of invisibility! How could a helmet make him
invisible, unless it were big enough for him to hide under it? And an
enchanted wallet! What sort of a contrivance may that be, I wonder? No,
no, good stranger! we can tell you nothing of these marvellous things.
You have two eyes of your own, and we have but a single one amongst us
three. You can find out such wonders better than three blind old
creatures, like us."
Perseus, hearing them talk in this way, began really to think that the
Gray Women knew nothing of the matter; and, as it grieved him to have
put them to so much trouble, he was just on the point of restoring their
eye and asking pardon for his rudeness in snatching it away. But
Quicksilver caught his hand.
"Don't let them make a fool of you!" said he. "These Three Gray Women
are the only persons in the world that can tell you where to find the
Nymphs; and, unless you get that information, you will never succeed in
cutting off the head of Medusa with the snaky locks. Keep fast hold of
the eye, and all will go well."
As it turned out, Quicksilver was in the right. There are but few things
that people prize so much as they do their eyesight; and the Gray Women
valued their single eye as highly as if it had been half a dozen, which
was the number they ought to have had. Finding that there was no other
way of recovering it, they at last told Perseus what he wanted to know.
No sooner had they done so, than he immediately, and with the utmost
respect, clapped the eye into the vacant socket in one of their
foreheads, thanked them for their kindness, and bade them farewell.
Before the young man was out of hearing, however, they had got into a
new dispute, because he happened to have given the eye to Scarecrow, who
had already taken her turn of it when their trouble with Perseus
commenced.
It is greatly to be feared that the Three Gray Women were very much in
the habit of disturbing their mutual harmony by bickerings of this sort;
which was the more pity, as they could not conveniently do without one
another, and were evidently intended to be inseparable companions. As a
general rule, I would advise all people, whether sisters or brothers,
old or young, who chance to have but one eye amongst them, to cultivate
forbearance, and not all insist upon peeping through it at once.
Quicksilver and Perseus, in the mean time, were making the best of their
way in quest of the Nymphs. The old dames had given them such particular
directions, that they were not long in finding them out. They proved to
be very different persons from Nightmare, Shakejoint, and Scarecrow;
for, instead of being old, they were young and beautiful; and instead of
one eye amongst the sisterhood, each Nymph had two exceedingly bright
eyes of her own, with which she looked very kindly at Perseus. They
seemed to be acquainted with Quicksilver; and, when he told them the
adventure which Perseus had undertaken, they made no difficulty about
giving him the valuable articles that were in their custody. In the
first place, they brought out what appeared to be a small purse, made of
deer skin, and curiously embroidered, and bade him be sure and keep it
safe. This was the magic wallet. The Nymphs next produced a pair of
shoes, or slippers, or sandals, with a nice little pair of wings at the
heel of each.
"Put them on, Perseus," said Quicksilver. "You will find yourself as
light-heeled as you can desire for the remainder of our journey."
So Perseus proceeded to put one of the slippers on, while he laid the
other on the ground by his side. Unexpectedly, however, this other
slipper spread its wings, fluttered up off the ground, and would
probably have flown away, if Quicksilver had not made a leap, and
luckily caught it in the air.
"Be more careful," said he, as he gave it back to Perseus. "It would
frighten the birds, up aloft, if they should see a flying slipper
amongst them."
When Perseus had got on both of these wonderful slippers, he was
altogether too buoyant to tread on earth. Making a step or two, lo and
behold! upward he popped into the air, high above the heads of
Quicksilver and the Nymphs, and found it very difficult to clamber down
again. Winged slippers, and all such high-flying contrivances, are
seldom quite easy to manage until one grows a little accustomed to them.
Quicksilver laughed at his companion's involuntary activity, and told
him that he must not be in so desperate a hurry, but must wait for the
invisible helmet.
The good-natured Nymphs had the helmet, with its dark tuft of waving
plumes, all in readiness to put upon his head. And now there happened
about as wonderful an incident as anything that I have yet told you. The
instant before the helmet was put on, there stood Perseus, a beautiful
young man, with golden ringlets and rosy cheeks, the crooked sword by
his side, and the brightly polished shield upon his arm,--a figure that
seemed all made up of courage, sprightliness, and glorious light. But
when the helmet had descended over his white brow, there was no longer
any Perseus to be seen! Nothing but empty air! Even the helmet, that
covered him with its invisibility, had vanished!
"Where are you, Perseus?" asked Quicksilver.
"Why, here, to be sure!" answered Perseus, very quietly, although his
voice seemed to come out of the transparent atmosphere. "Just where I
was a moment ago. Don't you see me?"
"No, indeed!" answered his friend. "You are hidden under the helmet.
But, if I cannot see you, neither can the Gorgons. Follow me, therefore,
and we will try your dexterity in using the winged slippers."
With these words, Quicksilver's cap spread its wings, as if his head
were about to fly away from his shoulders; but his whole figure rose
lightly into the air, and Perseus followed. By the time they had
ascended a few hundred feet, the young man began to feel what a
delightful thing it was to leave the dull earth so far beneath him, and
to be able to flit about like a bird.
It was now deep night. Perseus looked upward, and saw the round, bright,
silvery moon, and thought that he should desire nothing better than to
soar up thither, and spend his life there. Then he looked downward
again, and saw the earth, with its seas and lakes, and the silver
courses of its rivers, and its snowy mountain-peaks, and the breadth of
its fields, and the dark cluster of its woods, and its cities of white
marble; and, with the moonshine sleeping over the whole scene, it was as
beautiful as the moon or any star could be. And, among other objects, he
saw the island of Seriphus, where his dear mother was. Sometimes he and
Quicksilver approached a cloud, that, at a distance, looked as if it
were made of fleecy silver; although, when they plunged into it, they
found themselves chilled and moistened with gray mist. So swift was
their flight, however, that, in an instant, they emerged from the cloud
into the moonlight again. Once, a high-soaring eagle flew right against
the invisible Perseus. The bravest sights were the meteors, that gleamed
suddenly out, as if a bonfire had been kindled in the sky, and made the
moonshine pale for as much as a hundred miles around them.
As the two companions flew onward, Perseus fancied that he could hear
the rustle of a garment close by his side; and it was on the side
opposite to the one where he beheld Quicksilver, yet only Quicksilver
was visible.
"Whose garment is this," inquired Perseus, "that keeps rustling close
beside me in the breeze?"
"Oh, it is my sister's!" answered Quicksilver. "She is coming along with
us, as I told you she would. We could do nothing without the help of my
sister. You have no idea how wise she is. She has such eyes, too! Why,
she can see you, at this moment, just as distinctly as if you were not
invisible; and I'll venture to say, she will be the first to discover
the Gorgons."
By this time, in their swift voyage through the air, they had come
within sight of the great ocean, and were soon flying over it. Far
beneath them, the waves tossed themselves tumultuously in mid-sea, or
rolled a white surf-line upon the long beaches, or foamed against the
rocky cliffs, with a roar that was thunderous, in the lower world;
although it became a gentle murmur, like the voice of a baby half
asleep, before it reached the ears of Perseus. Just then a voice spoke
in the air close by him. It seemed to be a woman's voice, and was
melodious, though not exactly what might be called sweet, but grave and
mild.
"Perseus," said the voice, "there are the Gorgons."
"Where?" exclaimed Perseus. "I cannot see them."
"On the shore of that island beneath you," replied the voice. "A
pebble, dropped from your hand, would strike in the midst of them."
"I told you she would be the first to discover them," said Quicksilver
to Perseus. "And there they are!"
Straight downward, two or three thousand feet below him, Perseus
perceived a small island, with the sea breaking into white foam all
around its rocky shore, except on one side, where there was a beach of
snowy sand. He descended towards it, and, looking earnestly at a cluster
or heap of brightness, at the foot of a precipice of black rocks,
behold, there were the terrible Gorgons! They lay fast asleep, soothed
by the thunder of the sea; for it required a tumult that would have
deafened everybody else to lull such fierce creatures into slumber. The
moonlight glistened on their steely scales, and on their golden wings,
which drooped idly over the sand. Their brazen claws, horrible to look
at, were thrust out, and clutched the wave-beaten fragments of rock,
while the sleeping Gorgons dreamed of tearing some poor mortal all to
pieces. The snakes that served them instead of hair seemed likewise to
be asleep; although, now and then, one would writhe, and lift its head,
and thrust out its forked tongue, emitting a drowsy hiss, and then let
itself subside among its sister snakes.
The Gorgons were more like an awful, gigantic kind of insect,--immense,
golden-winged beetles, or dragon-flies, or things of that sort,--at once
ugly and beautiful,--than like anything else; only that they were a
thousand and a million times as big. And, with all this, there was
something partly human about them, too. Luckily for Perseus, their faces
were completely hidden from him by the posture in which they lay; for,
had he but looked one instant at them, he would have fallen heavily out
of the air, an image of senseless stone.
"Now," whispered Quicksilver, as he hovered by the side of
Perseus,--"now is your time to do the deed! Be quick; or, if one of the
Gorgons should awake, you are too late!"
"Which shall I strike at?" asked Perseus, drawing his sword and
descending a little lower. "They all three look alike. All three have
snaky locks. Which of the three is Medusa?"
It must be understood that Medusa was the only one of these
dragon-monsters whose head Perseus could possibly cut off. As for the
other two, let him have the sharpest sword that ever was forged, and he
might have hacked away by the hour together, without doing them the
least harm.
"Be cautious," said the calm voice which had before spoken to him. "One
of the Gorgons is stirring in her sleep, and is just about to turn over.
That is Medusa. Do not look at her! The sight would turn you to stone!
Look at the reflection of her face and figure in the bright mirror of
your shield."