When the time came for the contest in weaving, all the world was there
to see it, and great Jupiter sat among the clouds and looked on.
Arachne had set up her loom in the shade of a mulberry tree, where
butterflies were flitting and grasshoppers chirping all through the
livelong day. But Athena had set up her loom in the sky, where the
breezes were blowing and the summer sun was shining; for she was the
queen of the air.
Then Arachne took her skeins of finest silk and began to weave. And she
wove a web of marvelous beauty, so thin and light that it would float in
the air, and yet so strong that it could hold a lion in its meshes; and
the threads of warp and woof were of many colors, so beautifully
arranged and mingled one with another that all who saw were filled with
delight.
"No wonder that the maiden boasted of her skill," said the people.
And Jupiter himself nodded.
Then Athena began to weave. And she took of the sunbeams that gilded the
mountain top, and of the snowy fleece of the summer clouds, and of the
blue ether of the summer sky, and of the bright green of the summer
fields, and of the royal purple of the autumn woods,--and what do you
suppose she wove?
The web which she wove in the sky was full of enchanting pictures of
flowers and gardens, and of castles and towers, and of mountain heights,
and of men and beasts, and of giants and dwarfs, and of the mighty
beings who dwell in the clouds with Jupiter. And those who looked upon
it were so filled with wonder and delight, that they forgot all about
the beautiful web which Arachne had woven. And Arachne herself was
ashamed and afraid when she saw it; and she hid her face in her hands
and wept.
"Oh, how can I live," she cried, "now that I must never again use loom
or spindle or distaff?"
And she kept on, weeping and weeping and weeping, and saying, "How can I
live?"
Then, when Athena saw that the poor maiden would never have any joy
unless she were allowed to spin and weave, she took pity on her and
said:
"I would free you from your bargain if I could, but that is a thing
which no one can do. You must hold to your agreement never to touch loom
or spindle again. And yet, since you will never be happy unless you can
spin and weave, I will give you a new form so that you can carry on your
work with neither spindle nor loom."
Then she touched Arachne with the tip of the spear which she sometimes
carried; and the maiden was changed at once into a nimble spider, which
ran into a shady place in the grass and began merrily to spin and weave
a beautiful web.
I have heard it said that all the spiders which have been in the world
since then are the children of Arachne; but I doubt whether this be
true. Yet, for aught I know, Arachne still lives and spins and weaves;
and the very next spider that you see may be she herself.
[Illustration]