Years passed by. Every spring when the roses began to bloom seven youths
and seven maidens were put on board of a black-sailed ship and sent to
Crete to pay the tribute which King Minos required. In every house in
Athens there was sorrow and dread, and the people lifted up their hands
to Athena on the hilltop and cried out, "How long, O Queen of the Air,
how long shall this thing be?"
In the meanwhile the little child at Troezen on the other side of the
sea had grown to be a man. His name, Theseus, was in everybody's mouth,
for he had done great deeds of daring; and at last he had come to Athens
to find his father, King AEgeus, who had never heard whether he was alive
or dead; and when the youth had made himself known, the king had
welcomed him to his home and all the people were glad because so noble a
prince had come to dwell among them and, in time, to rule over their
city.
The springtime came again. The black-sailed ship was rigged for another
voyage. The rude Cretan soldiers paraded the streets; and the herald of
King Minos stood at the gates and shouted:
"Yet three days, O Athenians, and your tribute will be due and must be
paid!"
Then in every street the doors of the houses were shut and no man went
in or out, but every one sat silent with pale cheeks, and wondered whose
lot it would be to be chosen this year. But the young prince, Theseus,
did not understand; for he had not been told about the tribute.
"What is the meaning of all this?" he cried. "What right has a Cretan to
demand tribute in Athens? and what is this tribute of which he speaks?"
Then AEgeus led him aside and with tears told him of the sad war with
King Minos, and of the dreadful terms of peace. "Now, say no more,"
sobbed AEgeus, "it is better that a few should die even thus than that
all should be destroyed."
"But I will say more," cried Theseus. "Athens shall not pay tribute to
Crete. I myself will go with these youths and maidens, and I will slay
the monster Minotaur, and defy King Minos himself upon his throne."
"Oh, do not be so rash!" said the king; "for no one who is thrust into
the den of the Minotaur ever comes out again. Remember that you are the
hope of Athens, and do not take this great risk upon yourself."
"Say you that I am the hope of Athens?" said Theseus. "Then how can I do
otherwise than go?" And he began at once to make himself ready.
On the third day all the youths and maidens of the city were brought
together in the market place, so that lots might be cast for those who
were to be taken. Then two vessels of brass were brought and set before
King AEgeus and the herald who had come from Crete. Into one vessel they
placed as many balls as there were noble youths in the city, and into
the other as many as there were maidens; and all the balls were white
save only seven in each vessel, and those were black as ebony.
Then every maiden, without looking, reached her hand into one of the
vessels and drew forth a ball, and those who took the black balls were
borne away to the black ship, which lay in waiting by the shore. The
young men also drew lots in like manner, but when six black balls had
been drawn Theseus came quickly forward and said:
"Hold! Let no more balls be drawn. I will be the seventh youth to pay
this tribute. Now let us go aboard the black ship and be off."
Then the people, and King AEgeus himself, went down to the shore to take
leave of the young men and maidens, whom they had no hope of seeing
again; and all but Theseus wept and were brokenhearted.
"I will come again, father," he said.
"I will hope that you may," said the old king. "If when this ship
returns, I see a white sail spread above the black one, then I shall
know that you are alive and well; but if I see only the black one, it
will tell me that you have perished."
And now the vessel was loosed from its moorings, the north wind filled
the sail, and the seven youths and seven maidens were borne away over
the sea, towards the dreadful death which awaited them in far distant
Crete.