they stood in sad array on the shore of the desolate sea. And she
lifted her hands toward heaven, and prayed that the great powers would
keep her from such a fate and would shield her children that so sad an
evil should never overtake them. Then she saw that one among the
captives was much more beautiful than the others, tall and very fair,
with long golden tresses, and eyes as round as the moon and as blue as
the deep sea. And Deianeira, wondering whether she were not some great
man's daughter, asked her who she was; but the sad captive answered not
a word. The tender heart of the queen was filled with pity; and she
bade that the beautiful lady should be taken into the great hall of
Heracles, and treated with the utmost kindness, that so she should not
have sorrow heaped upon sorrow. Then she asked Lichas to tell her who
the lady was; but he said that he knew not, save that she seemed to be
well born.
"But now when Lichas had gone to the tents by the shore, there came to
Deianeira in the palace a mischief-maker who told her that Lichas had
not answered truly in this matter.
"'He knows, as well as I, who this fair stranger is,' said the
mischief-maker. 'She is the daughter of King Eurytus of OEchalia, and
the sister of Iphitus. Her name is Iole; and it was for the sake of her
beauty that Heracles destroyed her father's city.'
[Illustration: DEIANEIRA AND THE DYING CENTAUR NESSUS.]
"Then Deianeira was sadly troubled lest the heart of the great hero
should be turned away from her, and his affections set upon this lovely
captive. So she sent again for Lichas, and questioned him still
further. At first he denied that he knew any thing about the fair lady;
but afterwards, when hard pressed, he said, 'She is indeed Iole, the
fair damsel whom Heracles loved in the springtime of youth. But why he
has brought this great grief upon her, and upon her father's house, I
cannot tell.'
"Sorely troubled now was Deianeira, and all day long she sat in her
chamber, and pondered what she should do. And when the evening was
come, she called her friends together, the women and maidens who dwelt
in Trachis, and talked with them.
"'I have been thinking of what I can do to keep my husband's love,' she
said. 'I had almost forgotten that I have a charm which will help me,
or I might not have been so sadly troubled. Years and years ago, when
we were fleeing from my dear old home at Calydon, we came to the river
Evenus. The water was very deep, and the current very swift; but there
lived on the banks of the stream an old Centaur, named Nessus, whose
business it was to ferry travellers across to the other shore. He first
took my husband safely over, and then myself and our little son Hyllus.
But he was so rude, and withal so savage in his manners, that Heracles
was greatly angered at him; and he drew his bow, and shot the brutish
fellow with one of his poisoned arrows. Then my woman's heart was
filled with pity for the dying Centaur, wicked though he was; and I felt
loath to leave him suffering alone upon the banks of Evenus. And he,
seeing me look back, beckoned me to him. "Woman," he said, "I am dying;
but first I would give thee a precious gift. Fill a vial with the blood
that flows from this wound, and it shall come to pass that if ever thy
husband's affections grow cold, it will serve as a charm to make him
love thee as before. It needs only that thou shouldst smear the blood
upon a garment, and then cause him to wear the garment so that the heat
of the sun or of a fire shall strike upon it." I quickly filled the
vial, as he directed, and hastened to follow my husband.'
"Then Deianeira called the herald Lichas, and said, 'Behold, here is a
fair white garment which I have woven with my own hands; and I vowed
many days ago, that, if my husband should again come home, I would give
him this garment to wear while offering sacrifice. Now he tarries, as
you say, to do homage to the gods in Euboea. Go back, therefore, to
meet him, and give him this white robe as a gift from his wife. Say to
him that on no account shall he let another wear it; and that he shall
keep it carefully folded up, away from the light and the heat, until he
shall be ready to clothe himself in it.'
"The herald promised to do as he was bidden; and in that same hour he
hastened back to meet his master in Euboea, taking with him his master's
young son Hyllus.
"Not many days after this, a great cry and sad bewailings were heard in
the house of Heracles; and Deianeira rushed forth from her chamber
crying aloud that she had done some terrible deed. 'For I anointed the
fair robe which I sent to my husband with the blood of Nessus the
Centaur; and now, behold, the bit of woollen cloth which I dipped into
the charm, and used as a brush in spreading it upon the robe, is turned
to dust, as if a fire had burned it up. I have not forgotten any thing
that the Centaur told me: how I was to keep the charm where neither the
light of the sun nor the heat of the fire could touch it. And this I
have done until now; only the bit of woollen cloth was left lying in the
sunshine. Oh, fearful am I that I have slain my husband! For why should
the Centaur wish to do well by the man who brought death upon him?'
"Hardly had she spoken these words when her son Hyllus came in great
haste to the palace, even into the woman's hall where she stood.
"'O my mother!' he cried. 'Would that you were not my mother! For do
you know that you have this day brought death and destruction upon my
father.'
"'Oh, say not so, my son,' wailed Deianeira. 'It cannot be!'
"'But truly it is so,' said Hyllus. 'For when Lichas and myself came to
Euboea bearing the white robe which you sent, we found my father ready
to begin his offering of sacrifices. And he was glad to see me and to
hear from you; and he took the beautiful robe and put it upon him. Then
he slew twelve fair oxen, and joyfully worshipped the ever-living
powers. But when the fire grew hot, the deadly robe began to cling to
him, and pangs, as if caused by the stings of serpents, shot through
him, and the pains of death seized on him. He asked Lichas why he had
brought that robe; and when the herald told him that it was your gift,
he seized the wretch, and cast him over the cliff upon the sharp rocks
beneath. And great fear filled the hearts of all who saw the sufferings
of the mighty hero; and none of them dared come near him, so terrible
were his struggles. Then he called to me, and said, "Come here, my son.
Do not flee from your father in his great distress; but carry me from
this land, and set me where the eyes of no man shall see me." And so we
put him in the hold of our good ship, and brought him home with us to
Trachis. And soon you shall see what you have done; for you have slain
your husband,--a hero the like of whom the world shall never see again.'
"When Deianeira heard these words she made no answer, but, with one
despairing cry, she hasted to her high-built chamber; and when, soon
afterward, her maidens sought her there, she was dead. Then Hyllus
came, also seeking her; for the women of the household had told him how
she had been deceived by the dying Centaur. And when he saw her
lifeless form, he wept bitterly, and cried out that now indeed the Fates
had bereft him of both father and mother on the same day.
"Then they brought Heracles into his own broad hall, bearing him upon a
litter. He was asleep; for the pain had left him a little while, and
tired Nature was taking her dues. But the sad wailings of his son awoke
him; and again he cried aloud in his agony, and besought those who stood
around him that they would give him a sword wherewith to end his pain.
Then Hyllus came into the hall, and told his father all about the
terrible mistake which his mother had made, and how the Centaur had
deceived her, and how she was at that moment lying dead, with a broken
heart, in the chamber overhead.
"'Then, indeed, is my doom come,' cried Heracles. 'For long ago the
oracles spake of me, that I should die, not by the hands of any living
being, but by the guile of one dwelling in the regions of the dead. So
now Nessus, whom I slew so long ago, is avenged; for he has slain me.
Now, my son, carry me to the wooded summit of the hill of OEta, and
build there a great pile of olive beams and of oak; and, when it is
finished, lay me upon it, and set fire unto it. And shed no tear,
neither utter any cry, but work in silence; for thus thou shalt prove
thyself a son of Heracles.'
"The boy promised to do all this as his father wished, only he would not
set fire to the pile. So when he had built the pile, and had put
between the beams great stores of spices and sweet-smelling herbs, they
laid Heracles upon it; and Philoctetes, the hero's armor-bearer, set
fire to the pile. And Heracles, for this kindness, gave to Philoctetes
his famous bow,--a weapon more marvellous even than the bow of Eurytus.
Then the red flames shot high towards heaven, shedding brightness over
land and sea; and the mighty hero was at rest. He had met his master."
Such was the story that the old news-monger told in the hall of King
Laertes.
_*ADVENTURE XV.*_
*LONG LIVE THE KING!*
"Surely," sighed Laertes, "the old heroes pass away; but the younger
heroes press hard in their footsteps, and will fill their places well.
The gods have written it in every tree, and upon every blade of grass,
that the aged, however worthy, cannot endure forever. The ripened fruit
falls to the ground, but there will be other and better fruit on the
branches by and by. Ancient Cronos gave place, not willingly, to Zeus;
and Zeus is by far the greater of the two. And there be certain oracles
which have foretold the doom of Zeus; even that he shall be hurled from
his throne by a king of peace, who shall reign everlastingly."
Then on a day, he called the elders of Ithaca together, and spoke to
them in this wise: "My son Odysseus is now a grown-up man, wise and
shrewd beyond any other among you. He is skilled in all kinds of
knowledge and of handicraft; in matters of judgment he is without a
peer, and in matters requiring courage he is foremost among men.
Moreover, he is married to a wife, sweet Penelope, unexcelled in wifely
virtues; and he has a son and heir, Telemachus,--a smiling babe who has
not yet seen the round of one full moon. Now, why should the old branch
stand longer in the way of the new and vigorous shoot? This day I will
give up my kingdom to my son, and he shall henceforth rule this island
in his own name."
And all the people rejoiced when they heard his words; and straightway
they hailed Odysseus king of Ithaca, and offered thanksgiving and
sacrifice to Pallas Athene, who had blessed him with wisdom above that
of other men. And good Laertes retired to his mountain farm, where no
vexing questions of government would take him away from his vines and
fruit-trees. "Here," said he, "I hope to end my days in peace."
When the men of Cephallenia and the dwellers in the rugged island of
Zacynthus heard that young Odysseus ruled by his own right in Ithaca,
they came and offered him their friendship and allegiance; for they were
kinsmen of the Ithacans. They brought rich presents of corn and wine
and of long-wooled sheep, and promised to bear him aid in time of need,
if ever that time should come.
At about this time, old Icarius, the father of Penelope, came to Ithaca
for a brief visit to his daughter. For his eyes had long yearned to see
her, and he could find no rest until he knew that she was happy and well
cared for in the new home which she had chosen. And Penelope asked him a
thousand questions about her friends and her kinsfolk in dear old
Lacedaemon, and to all these questions he made answer as he best knew.
"We have now a new king at Lacedaemon," said Icarius, "even brave
Menelaus, the husband of your cousin Helen."
"But where is King Tyndareus, my good uncle?" asked Penelope. "And
where are my noble twin cousins, Castor and Polydeuces? Do they share
the kingdom with Menelaus?"
"I will tell you all about it," answered her father. And then he told
her how it had come about that Menelaus was called to the kingship of
Lacedaemon:--
"As the feebleness of age began to take hold upon him, King Tyndareus
bethought him that he would resign his kingdom to his sons, the twin
heroes Castor and Polydeuces. But the restless youths cared not to take
upon them duties which would keep them within the narrow bounds of
Lacedaemon; for they were not home-stayers, but they wandered hither and
thither over many seas and through strange lands, doing brave and noble
deeds innumerable. The story of their labors in times of peace and of
their prowess in times of war was upon every tongue, and was sung by
minstrels in every city of Hellas. Wherever public games were held,
there the twins were the masters of the course and the field, and the
awarders of the prizes. Wherever battles raged and where the fight was
thickest, there the glorious heroes, on their snow-white steeds, were
seen striking fearlessly for the cause of right. And men told how it was
they who first taught the bards to sing songs of battle and paeans of
victory; and how it was they who first showed the glad feet of the
victors how to tread the wild mazes of the war-dance; and how it was
they who, in their friendship for seafarers, had guided many a vessel
over the roughest seas, safe into the wished-for haven. They belonged
not more to their native Lacedaemon than to the whole wide world.
"There came a time, however, when the men of Laconia quarrelled with
their neighbors of Arcadia, and there was war upon the borders. Then
Castor and Polydeuces hastened to take sides with their kinsmen.
Mounted on their swift steeds, Phlogios and Harpagos, the gifts of
Hermes, they made raid after raid across the mountains; and they brought
back many a choice herd of cattle, or flock of sheep, from the pasture
lands of Arcadia.
"It happened on a day, that their cousins Idas and Lynceus, two lawless
men from Messene, joined them, and the four drove many cattle across the
borders, and hid them in a glen at the foot of Mount Taygetus. Then they
agreed that Idas should divide the booty into four parts, and give to
each a part. But Idas was a crafty man, more famed for his guile than
for his courage; and he planned how he might take all the herd for his
own. So he killed a fat ox, and having flayed and dressed it, he cut it
into four parts. Then he called the other men about him.
"'It would be a great pity to divide so fine a herd as this of ours
among four owners,' he said. 'Therefore I have a plan by which one, or
at most two of us, may fairly gain the whole. Behold, here are the four
quarters of the ox which I have slain. This quarter belongs to Castor,
this to Polydeuces, this to Lynceus, and this to myself. He who first
eats the share allotted to him shall have half of the cattle for his
own; he who next finishes shall have the other half.'
"Then, without another word, he began to eat the quarter which he had
allotted to himself; nor was he long devouring it, but with greedy haste
consumed it before his comrades had tasted even a morsel. Next he
seized upon the part assigned to Lynceus, and ate it as quickly as his
own.
"'The cattle are all mine!' he cried. And calling upon his brother to
help him, they drove the whole herd into Messene.
"Then anger filled the souls of the twin heroes, and they vowed to take
vengeance upon their crafty kinsmen. One night when the moon lighted up
both plain and mountain with her silvery beams, they made a rapid ride
into Messene, and brought back not only the herd which Idas had taken
from them by fraud, but as many cattle as were feeding in the Messenian
meadows. Then, knowing that their cousins would follow them in hot
haste, they hid themselves in the hollow of a tree in the mountain pass,
and waited for the morning.
"At break of day, the two Messenians, having missed their cattle,
hastened to follow their trail to Mount Taygetus. Then Lynceus, whose
sharp eyes could see through rocks and the trunks of trees, climbed to
the top of a crag to look about them; for they feared lest they should
fall into an ambush. And as he peered into every nook and glen and
gorge of the wild mountain, he saw the twins close-hidden in the hollow
trunk of an oak. Then quickly he descended, and with stealthy tread he
and Idas drew near their hiding-place. Castor saw them first; but before
he could speak, a spear from the hand of Idas laid him low in death.
Then mighty Polydeuces leaped forth in his wrath, and rushed upon the
slayers of his brother. Fear seized upon them, and they fled with
winged feet into Messene, and paused not until they stood by the marble
tomb of their father, great Aphareus. But Polydeuces, following on,
overtook them there, and with his spear he smote Lynceus a deadly blow.
At the same time, a peal of thunder shook the mountain and rolled over
the plain; and Zeus hurled his fiery bolts at the bosom of crafty Idas,
and laid him dead upon his father's tomb.
"The grief of Polydeuces for the death of Castor was terrible to see;
and there was no one in all the world who could comfort him, or in any
way make him forget his loss. Then he prayed the gods that they would
take him, too, to Hades, that he might be in the dear company of his
brother. And Zeus heard his prayer; and he asked Polydeuces to choose
whether he would sit in the courts of Olympus, and be the peer of Ares
and Pallas Athene, or whether he would share all things with Castor.
And the glorious hero cried, 'Let me be forever with my brother!' His
wish was granted to him; and the twin heroes still live, although the
quickening earth lies over them. One day they wander in the fields of
asphodel, and enjoy the bliss of immortality; the next, they flit among
the unquiet shades in the sunless regions of the dead. And thus they
share together whatever of joy or woe the grave can bring.
"When King Tyndareus learned that he was bereft of his sons, he fell
prone to the earth; and no one in Lacedaemon could console him. 'Send
for Helen, my peerless daughter!' he cried. 'Send for Menelaus. He is
my only son. He shall dwell in my palace, and rule in my stead!'
"And that is the way in which it came about, that Menelaus was called to
the kingship of Lacedaemon."
Old Icarius remained but a short time at Ithaca. A ship was waiting in
the harbor, ready to sail to Pylos and the ports beyond; and he knew
that a like opportunity to return to Lacedaemon might not soon be
offered. And so, leaving his blessing with his children Odysseus and
Penelope and the babe Telemachus, he departed.
_*ADVENTURE XVI.*_
*THE CHILDREN OF PROMETHEUS.*
There was sore distress in Lacedaemon. Famine and a deadly pestilence
grieved the land, and in every household the notes of wailing and
despair were heard. For Apollo, vexed because the men of Laconia were so
slow to understand his wishes, was shooting his fateful arrows broadcast
among them. Like a night-cloud he brooded over the land, and strong men
and fair women and helpless babes all fell alike beneath the sharp blows
of his deadly shafts. And the heart of Menelaus the king was burdened
with grief because of the people's sore affliction. Then, when he found
that sacrifice of lambs and goats availed him nothing, he sent in haste
to ask the oracles the cause of Apollo's wrath, and to learn what could
be done to stay the plague. The answer came as quickly:--
"When the bones of the children of Prometheus are brought from Ilios,
and entombed in Lacedaemon, then the wrath of silver-bowed Apollo shall
be turned aside, and the smiles of his favor shall bless the land."
Then Menelaus made ready to depart at once to Troy to do that which
Apollo demanded. A short journey by land brought him to the
strong-built town of Helos on the shore of the eastern sea. There a
swift-sailing ship lay at its moorings, while a score of long-haired
seamen paced the beach, anxious to embark upon any errand across
Poseidon's watery kingdom. The captain hailed the king with joy, and
the ship was soon made ready for the long voyage to Ilios. A plenteous
stock of food was stored away in the broad hold; arms, for defence
against sea robbers and savage men, were put in order, and hung in their
places; and rich presents for Priam, king of Troy, were taken on board.
The next day a favoring wind sprang up; the sails were set; the seamen
took their places; and the ship with King Menelaus on board sped on its
way to distant Ilios. Poseidon, looking out from his golden palace
beneath the sea, saw the vessel as it hastened on its errand; and he
bade the waves be still and in no wise hinder its speed, for Apollo's
business must not be delayed; and he called upon the breezes to blow
steadily towards Ilios, that so the embassy of Menelaus might be happily
performed.
"Surely the gods are all in league with us," said the captain of the
ship one day, pleased with the delightful voyage. "To-morrow we shall
doubtless sight the Lesbian coast, and from thence it is but a short
sail to Ilios and Troy. And now, as we sit together in the prow of our
good vessel, I pray you to tell us the story, once more, of great
Prometheus, the bones of whose children seem so precious to Apollo."
And Menelaus willingly consented, and told the story as he himself had
oft-times heard it from the bards:--
"When Zeus waged pitiless war upon the Titans, and hurled them headlong
from the heights of Mount Olympus, he spared from the general ruin those
who fought not with their own kindred, but espoused his cause. Among
these and foremost of all was great Prometheus, whose name is
Forethought, and whose chiefest glory lies in this, that he was the
friend and lover of mankind. It was the hope of bettering man's
condition that led him to fight against his kindred, and to aid in
placing Zeus upon the throne of ancient Cronos. Yet Zeus cared naught
for the feeble children of earth, but sought rather to make their
burdens heavier and their lives more sad, that so the race might perish
utterly. And the great mind of Prometheus set to work to learn how to
make their lot less sad and their lives less miserable.
"He saw that as yet they dwelt without forethought upon the earth, their
life's whole length being aimless, and their minds as void of reason as
is the beast's. They lived in sunless caverns, or in holes scooped in
the ground; and no provision did they make for heat or cold or times of
scarcity, or the varying needs of youth and age. And Prometheus wasted
no vain words in pity, but took at once upon him the Titanic task of
lifting the race up to a level with the gods. First, he taught them the
use of fire, which, some say, he stole from Helios' car, and brought to
the earth, hidden in a fennel-stalk. Then he showed them how the stars
rise and set, and how the seasons change in never-varying order. He
showed them how to yoke and make submissive to their will the wild
steeds of the desert plain; how to turn the sod beneath the soil by
means of the furrowing plough; and how to build fair houses and cities
with strong walls and frowning towers. He taught them how to make
ships, the storm-winged chariots of the sea, and how to navigate the
briny deep. He showed them the treasures which lie hidden underneath the
ground,--gold, silver, iron,--and taught them how to turn them into
forms of beauty, strength, and use. In short, all arts now known to men
came to them from the hands and mind of pitying Prometheus.
"Now, when Zeus looked down from high Olympus, and saw the puny tribes
of men no longer grovelling in the earth like senseless beasts, but
standing upright, and claiming kinship with the gods, he shook with
pent-up anger. And he called two of his mightiest servants, Strength
and Force, whom none can resist, and bade them seize the friend of man,
and bind him upon a peak of the snow-crowned Caucasus, there to linger
through the ages in loneliness and pain.
"Then the ruthless slaves of Zeus went forth to do his bidding. They
seized the mighty Titan, and dragged him to the bleak and barren regions
of the Caucasus, beyond the utmost limit of the habitable earth. And
with them went the mighty smith Hephaestus, all unwillingly, to bind the
great victim with bonds of brass, which none could loose, to the lonely
mountain crags.
"'This thing I do loathing,' said Hephaestus. 'Here I must perforce
leave thee, chained and bolted to the immovable rocks. Thou shalt never
behold the face of man, nor hear the accents of his voice; but the blaze
of the unpitying sun shall scorch thy fair skin, and thou shalt long for
the night with its shimmering stars to cast a veil of coolness over
thee. Year after year, thou shalt keep thy lonely watch in this joyless
place, unblest with sleep, and uttering many a cry and unavailing moan.
For Zeus is pitiless. This is what thou gainest for befriending man.'
"There, then, they left him fettered; but not until rude Strength had
taunted him: 'Lo, thou lover of mankind! Call now the puny race of
mortals round thee, and crown them with honors! Could all of them
together lessen thy punishment in the least? Surely the gods did jest
when they gave thee the name of "Forethought," for thou hast need of
forethought to free thee from these bonds.'