of the earth army, saw it strike the breastplate of a gigantic and
fierce-looking warrior. Immediately on feeling 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 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 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 vegetable,
although, on the whole, he concluded that there was human nature in
them, because they were so fond of trumpets 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 yourselves 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 commands. 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 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 nightfall. 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 Phœnix, 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 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.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
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 unknown 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 vessels
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 to be concealed. But in each of these stout bags, King Æolus,
the ruler of 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 Læstrygonia, 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 dreading some mischief, even
in this pleasant and seemingly solitary spot. For two days, therefore,
the poor weatherworn 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 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 gormandizers, 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 shellfish
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 beheld 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 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 time, a plentiful banquet would be served up to the
inhabitants of the palace, and to whatever guests might happen to drop
in.
[Illustration: At a distance he beheld stately towers.]
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 neighboring tree. A moment afterwards, a
bird came flying towards 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 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
unaccountable 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 the present, to
return to the vessel, and tell his companions 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
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 because they could not scrape another
morsel off the poor animal'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 summoned 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 appeared 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 supper 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 Læstrygons, and those other horrible
giants, his subjects, 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 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
assistance. If these can be obtained, all is well. If not, and if the
inhabitants prove as inhospitable as Polyphemus, or the Læstrygons,
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
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 treatment 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 discerned 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 chimney 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!"
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 sorrowfully.
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, snuffing 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 dolorously 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."