CHAPTER I.

Classics for Children.

STORIES OF THE OLD WORLD.

BY THE

REV. ALFRED J. CHURCH, M.A.,

AUTHOR OF “STORIES FROM HOMER,” “STORIES FROM VIRGIL,” “STORIES

FROM LIVY,” ETC.

BOSTON:

PUBLISHED BY GINN & COMPANY.

1885.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884, by

GINN, HEATH, & CO.,

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

J. S. CUSHING & CO., PRINTERS, 115 HIGH STREET, BOSTON.

CONTENTS.

THE STORY OF THE ARGO.

PAGE

CHAPTER I. 7

CHAPTER II. 19

CHAPTER III. 30

THE STORY OF THEBES.

CHAPTER I. 47

CHAPTER II. 57

THE STORY OF TROY.

CHAPTER I. 69

CHAPTER II. 86

CHAPTER III. 109

CHAPTER IV. 128

CHAPTER V. 147

CHAPTER VI. 156

CHAPTER VII. 171

THE ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES.

CHAPTER VIII. 182

CHAPTER IX. 204

CHAPTER X. 210

CHAPTER XI. 220

CHAPTER XII. 229

CHAPTER XIII. 237

CHAPTER XIV. 242

THE ADVENTURES OF ÆNEAS.

CHAPTER I. 247

CHAPTER II. 265

CHAPTER III. 291

CHAPTER IV. 307

CHAPTER V. 331

CHAPTER VI. 342

NOTE.

In “The Adventures of Æneas” the names of the gods are of the

Latin form. As the story is taken from Virgil, this could not

be avoided. The following table sets forth the correspondence

of the Greek and Latin names:--

GREEK. LATIN.

Zeus Jupiter.

Heré Juno.

Aphrodité Venus.

Ares Mars.

Hermes Mercury.

Poseidon Neptune.

Artemis Diana.

THE

STORY OF THE ARGO.

CHAPTER I.

The son of Cretheus, Æson, bequeathed the kingdom of Thessaly to his

brother Pelias, to keep for Jason, his son, whom he had sent to be

taught by Chiron, the wise Centaur. Now when Jason was returning from

Chiron he came to Anaurus, which is a river of Thessaly, and would

have crossed it; but there was an old woman on the river bank, and she

entreated of Jason that he would carry her over the river, for she

feared herself, she said, to cross it. But the old woman was in truth

the goddess Heré, who had taken upon herself the likeness of an old

woman to try the young man’s heart. Jason therefore carried her over,

but in crossing he lost one of his sandals, for it cleaved to the sand

that was in the river; and so he came to the dwelling of King Pelias,

where they were preparing a great sacrifice and feast to Poseidon and

the other gods. Now there had come an oracle aforetime to Pelias,

saying, “Beware of him who shall come to thee with one sandal only, for

it is thy doom to die by his means.” Therefore, when Pelias saw Jason

come in this plight, he was afraid; also he would fain keep the kingdom

for himself. He dared not slay him; but he set him a task from which he

might win great renown, hoping that he should never return therefrom;

and the task was this: to fetch the fleece of gold from the land of the

Colchians.

Now the story of the fleece is this: To Athamas, that was brother to

Cretheus, were born two children of Nephele, his wife, and the names of

these two were Phrixus and Helle. But Ino, whom Athamas had taken to

wife when Nephele was dead, laid a plot against the children to cause

them to be put to death, and the plot was this. She persuaded the women

of the land to parch with fire the seed of the corn that their husbands

sowed in the earth. And when the seed bare no increase, King Athamas

sent to inquire of the oracle at Delphi what the cause might be. But

Ino persuaded the messengers that they should bring back this message,

as though it were the answer of the god, “Sacrifice the two children,

Phrixus and Helle, if ye would be rid of this barrenness.” So Athamas,

being persuaded, brought the children to the altar to sacrifice them;

but the gods had pity on them, and sent a winged ram with a fleece of

gold to carry them away. So the ram carried them away; but Helle fell

from it and was drowned (for which cause the sea in those parts is

called the Sea of Helle to this day), but Phrixus came safe to the land

of the Colchians. There he sacrificed the ram as a thankoffering to

Zeus, and afterwards married the daughter of the king of that land, and

then died. And now Pelias would have Jason fetch the fleece of gold as

belonging of right to his own house. To this Jason consented, and he

sent messengers through the land of Greece to gather the heroes, that

they might be his companions in this labor; and the heroes hearkened to

his word.

First there came Orpheus, the great singer of Thrace, who could cause

rocks to move from their places, and rivers to stay their course, and

trees to follow him, so sweetly he sang; and Polyphemus, who in his

youth had fought with the Lapithæ against the Centaurs, and though his

limbs were burdened with many years, he bare a brave heart within him;

and Admetus of Thessaly, for whom his wife Alcestis was willing to

die; and the two sons of Æacus of Ægina, Telamon and Peleus, of whom

Telamon dwelt in Salamis, and Peleus in Phthia, for they had fled from

Ægina, having slain Phocus, their brother, unwittingly. But Theseus,

the bravest of the sons of Attica, came not, being imprisoned with

Pirithoüs in the dwellings of the dead. Also there came Tiphys, who was

the most skilful of men to foresee when the waves would rise, and the

winds blow, and to guide a ship by sun and stars; and Hercules, who

was newly come to Argos from Arcadia, whence he had brought alive the

great Erymanthian boar, and put him down in the market-place of Mycenæ;

and the twin brethren, Castor, the tamer of horses, and Pollux, the

mighty boxer; and Lynceus, who was keener of sight than all other men,

so that he could see even the things below the earth. With these came

also two brethren, sons of Boreas, Prince of Thrace, whom men call also

the North Wind. Wings had these two upon their feet,--a wonder to see,

black, shining with scales of gold,--and their hair streamed behind

them on either side as they ran. These, and many more heroes whom it

needs not name, did Jason gather together.

As for the ship _Argo_, the goddess Athene devised it, but the hands of

Argus, the son of Arestor, builded it.

Great was the wonder among the people to see such a gathering of

heroes. “Surely,” they said, “they will burn the house of Æætes with

fire if he withhold from them the fleece.” But the women lifted up

their hands and prayed for a safe return; also they wept one to

another, no one more bitterly than Alcimedé, the mother of Jason,

casting her arms about her son, and bewailing the day when Pelias had

sent him on this errand, seeing that he was her only son, and she would

be left desolate and alone. But Jason comforted her, saying that Athene

would help him in his quest, and that Apollo had prophesied good things

for him; only he bade her abide within the house, lest she should speak

some word of ill omen at their departure.

When the heroes were gathered together at the ship, Jason stood up

in the midst, and spake: “My friends, seeing that all things are now

ready for the voyage, and that there is nothing to hinder us from

sailing, the wind being favorable, let us choose for our leader him

whom we judge to be the best among us, for our going and our returning

concerneth us all.” Then the young men cast their eyes on Hercules, and

cried out with one voice that he should be their leader. But the hero

stretched forth his right hand from where he sat, and cried, “Not so;

let no man seek to give me this honor, for I will not receive it. Let

him that hath gathered us be also our leader.” So spake Hercules, and

they all were obedient to his word, and chose Jason to be their leader.

Then said Jason, “First let us make a feast and a sacrifice to Apollo.

But while the slaves fetch the oxen, let us drag down the ship to the

sea, and when we have put all her tackling into her, let us cast lots

for the benches whereon we shall sit.” Then the heroes undergirded the

ship with ropes, that she might be the stronger against the waves; and

afterwards, standing on either side, pushed her with all their might;

but Tiphys stood in the midst and gave the word, that they might do it

with one heart and at one time. Quickly ran the _Argo_ on the slips,

and the heroes shouted as she ran. Then they fastened the oars in the

rowlocks, and put a mast in the ship, and sails well woven. After this

they divided the heroes among the benches, two heroes to a bench; and

in the hindmost bench they set Hercules and Ancæus of Tegea, by choice

and not by lot, considering the stature of the heroes, for there the

ship was deepest. But for helmsman they chose Tiphys by common consent.

After this they built an altar of stones upon the shore. Then Jason

prayed to Apollo, “O king, bring us again safe to Greece; so will

we offer young bullocks on thy altars, both at Delphi and in Delos.

And now let us raise our cable in peace, and give us favorable winds

and a calm sea.” Then Hercules smote one of the oxen with his fist

between the horns and felled him to the earth; and Ancæus slew the

other, smiting him on the neck with an axe. And the young men cut them

in pieces, and they covered the thighs with fat, and burned them in

the fire. But when Idmon, the seer, saw the blue smoke, how it arose

in circles above the flames, he cried, by the inspiration of Apollo,

“Truly ye shall come hither again, and bring the fleece of gold with

you; but as for me, I must die far from my home in the land of Asia.

This, indeed, I knew before, yet am I with you to-day, that I may

share the glory of this voyage.” And now the sun was setting, and the

heroes sat in order on the shore, and drank the wine out of great

cups, talking with each other as men are wont to talk at the banquet.

But Jason sat apart, busy with many thoughts, which, when the hero

Idas saw, he said, “What fearest thou, son of Æson? By this spear I

swear--and in truth my spear helpeth me more than Zeus--thou shalt

fail in nought if only Idas be with thee.” And as he spake he raised

with both his hands a mighty bowl of wine, and drenched his lips and

bearded cheeks. Then the heroes murmured against him; but Idmon, the

seer, spake aloud, “These are evil words that thou speakest against

thyself. Hath the wine so wrought with thee that thou revilest the

gods? Remember the sons of Aloeus, how mighty they were; but when they

spake against the gods, Apollo slew them with his darts.” Then Idas

laughed aloud, and cried, “Thinkest thou, then, that the gods will slay

me as Apollo slew the sons of Aloeus? Only take heed to thyself if thou

shalt be found to have prophesied falsely concerning me.” But Jason

stayed them, that they should not strive together any more.

After this Orpheus took his harp and sang. He sang how the earth and

heaven and sky, having had but one form before, were divided from

each other; and how the stars are fixed in heaven; and of the moon

and the courses of the sun. Also he sang how the mountains arose, and

the rivers flowed; and how of old Chronos reigned in Olympus, ruling

the Titan gods, while Zeus was yet a child, dwelling in the caves of

Ida, before the Cyclopes had armed his hand with the thunderbolt. Then

Orpheus ended his song; but the heroes sat awhile, after that he had

ceased, with their heads bent forwards, so mighty was the spell upon

them. After this they burnt the tongues of the beasts with fire, and

poured wine upon them, and so lay down to sleep.

But when the morning shone on the top of Pelion, Tiphys first woke

out of sleep, and roused the heroes, bidding them embark and prepare

for rowing. But before they departed came Chiron down from the hills,

and his wife with him, carrying in her arms the little Achilles, that

Peleus, his father, might embrace him. And Chiron prayed aloud to the

gods that the heroes might have a safe return.

Thus did the ship _Argo_ depart upon her voyage. The heroes smote the

sea with their oars in time to the music of Orpheus, and drave her

on her course with a marvellous quickness. The tackling of the ship

glistened like gold in the sun, and the waves were parted, foaming on

either side of the prow, and their way was white behind them, plain to

see as the path upon a meadow.

So soon as they were clear of the harbor’s winding ways--and well did

Tiphys guide them, holding the polished tiller in his hands--they

set up the great mast in its socket, fastening it by ropes on either

side; and upon the mast they spread out the sail, setting it duly with

pulleys and sheets. Then, with the wind blowing fair behind them, they

sped forward; and Orpheus sang the while of Artemis; and the fishes

followed, leaping out of the sea about the ship, even as sheep when

they are fed to the full follow back the shepherd to the sheepfold as

he goes before them, making sweet music on his oaten pipe. Past the

rocks of Pelion they sped, and Sciathos and Magnessa; and when they

came to the tomb of Dolops, they drave their ship to the shore and did

sacrifice by the tomb. There they abode for two days, for the sea was

stormy; but on the third day they launched their ship and hoisted the

great sail. Whereupon to this day they call this place “The Launching

of the _Argo_.” Then as they sailed they saw the valleys of Ossa and

Olympus; all night the wind carried them on, and the next day there

appeared Athos, the great mountain of Thrace; so great is it that its

shadow falls on Myrina in Lemnos, though it be a half-day’s journey for

a fleet ship.

Then they came to Lemnos. There, but a year before, had been wrought a

dreadful deed; for the women had slain their husbands, aye, and every

male throughout the land, lest the children, being grown to manhood,

should avenge their fathers. Only Hypsipyle had spared the old man

Thoas, her father, hiding him in a cave by the sea, that she might

send him away alive. And now the women ploughed the fields, and donned

the armor of men; nevertheless, they watched ever in fear lest the

Thracians that dwelt on the shore over against them should come upon

them. And now, when they saw the _Argo_ and the band of heroes, they

sallied forth from their city, duly armed, with Hypsipyle their Queen

for their leader; for they thought that now indeed the Thracians were

come. Speechless they were for fear, for all their brave show of war.

But the heroes sent their herald to tell who they were, and whence they

had come, and whither they went. For that day, therefore, they abode on

the shore. But the Queen called the women to council; and when these

were gathered together, she rose in the midst, and said: “Let us give

gifts to these strangers, food and wine; but let them abide without the

walls, for we have done a dreadful deed, and it is not well that they

should know it. But if anyone have some better counsel, let her speak.”

Then Polyxo, that was nurse to the Queen, stood forth. Very old she

was; she halted upon her feet, she leant upon her staff; and four young

maidens, with long yellow hair, held her up. Yet could she scarce lift

up her head, so bowed she was with age; nevertheless, age had not tamed

her tongue. Thus she spake: “It is well, as saith the Queen, to send

gifts to these strangers. Yet, bethink you, my daughters, what will ye

do in the time to come? How will it fare with you, if these Thracians

come, or other enemies? When ye are old, how will ye live? Will the

oxen yoke themselves to the plough, or the harvests come without toil?

As for me, though hitherto the Fates have passed me by, I shall surely

die this year or the next, and escape from the evil to come. But what

will ye do, my daughters? Wherefore my counsel is that ye make these

men the partners of all that ye have.” And the whole assembly gave

their consent, and they sent Iphinoe as their herald to the heroes. And

when these had heard the words of the daughter of Lemnos, the thing

pleased them.

Then indeed had they dwelt in Lemnos to the end of their days, but

Hercules called them apart and said: “Did ye come hither, my friends,

to marry wives? Are there not maidens fair enough whom ye may wed at

home? Will ye be content to plough and sow and reap in Lemnos? Think

you that some god will put this fleece of gold into your hands while ye

tarry here?” So did he rebuke them; but they answered him not again,

nor dared so much as to lift their eyes from the ground. But the next

day they climbed into their ship, and ranged themselves in order on the

benches, and so departed. And after a while, the south wind blowing,

they entered the Hellespont, and passing through it, came to the sea

which men call the Propontis, and to a certain city of which Cyzicus

was king, and now men call it by his name. Here were they entertained

with all hospitality; for the King had been warned that if a ship of

strangers should come, he should deal kindly with them, if haply he

might so escape his fate. For his fate was this, that he should die by

the hands of a stranger. Wherefore he gave them great store of flesh

and wine. Now the next day some would climb the hill Dindymus, that

they might behold the sea on which they should sail; and some rowed the

_Argo_ to a more convenient haven. But there were in an island hard by

certain giants, of monstrous shape. Six hands had each of them,--two

such as other men have, and four strangely growing from their sides.

These sallied forth against the heroes, and would have blocked the

mouth of the haven with rocks, as men block a wild beast in a cavern.

But Hercules drew his bow against them, and slew many with arrows. And

the heroes, when they saw what had befallen, left their journey and

came to the help of their companions, and pursued the giants till they

had destroyed them. But Queen Heré had reared these giants that they

might do some harm to Hercules. After this the heroes set sail, and

all that day they sped onward on their course; but at nightfall the

wind blew contrary, and carried them back to the city of Cyzicus. Yet

they knew not whither they were come; neither did any of the men of

Cyzicus know the heroes for the darkness. Therefore they joined battle

as though they had been enemies; and Jason smote King Cyzicus on the

breast and slew him. Thus was his doom fulfilled. Many others also

were slain; and the men of Cyzicus fled before the heroes, and shut

themselves into their city. But when it was morning the heroes knew

what they had done in their ignorance, and lamented. Also they set up a

great tomb for the slain, and circled it thrice, clad in their armor,

and celebrated funeral games in the meadow hard by. But Clite, that was

the wife of Cyzicus, when she knew that her husband was dead, hanged

herself; and the gods changed her tears into a fountain which is yet

called Clite, after her name.

For twelve days the heroes tarried in this land, so stormy were the

winds; but in the twelfth night a kingfisher flew with a shrill cry

over the head of Jason as he slept; and Mopsus the seer knew what the

kingfisher said, and cried, “Let us build an altar to Cybele, the

mother of the gods, and do sacrifice to her. So shall we have an end of

these stormy winds.”

This therefore they did; and the next morning they departed. Quickly

they sped, so that not even the chariot of Poseidon could have

outstripped them. But towards the evening the wind blew more strongly,

and the waves arose. Then indeed did Hercules, as he toiled with all

his might in rowing, break his oar in the middle. One half he held in

his hands and fell therewith, but the other half the sea carried with

it. But when they were come to the land the people of Mysia entertained

them with hospitality. And the next day Hercules went into the woods,

seeking a pine-tree for an oar. And when he had found one that had but

few branches or leaves upon it, but was tall and straight as a poplar,

he laid his bow and his arrows and his lion-skin also on the ground,

and first he smote the pine-tree with his club and loosened it, and

then put his hands about the stem, and tare it by the roots from the

earth, and so went back to the ship bearing it on his shoulders.

But in the meanwhile the youth Hylas had gone forth with his pitcher to

fetch water from a spring; for he was page to Hercules, and would have

all things ready for him against his coming back. Now all the Nymphs of

the land, whether they dwelt in the water or on the hills, were wont to

assemble at this fountain. And one of these saw the youth, how fair he

was, for the moon was at her full and shone upon him as he went, and

she loved him in her heart. And when the youth dipped his pitcher into

the spring to fill it, she threw her arms about his neck and drew him

down, and he fell into the fountain, but called aloud on Hercules as he

fell. Now one of the heroes heard the cry of the youth, and hastened to

the place, but found nothing. But as he returned from out of the wood,

for he feared lest some wild beast or enemy should assail him, he met

Hercules, and spake, saying, “These are sad tidings that I bring thee.

For Hylas is gone to the spring and hath not returned, and either some

beast hath slain him, or robbers have carried him away.” So all that

night Hercules wandered through the wood seeking for the youth, even as

a bull which some gad-fly stings rusheth over the fields nor resteth

anywhere. So Hercules hastened hither and thither, seeking for the

youth, and calling him by his name, but found him not.

When it was now day, Tiphys, the helmsman, bade them depart, for that

the wind favored them. But after a while they found that they had left

the best of their company behind them unwittingly; and then arose great

strife and contention among them. Then spake Telamon in his wrath:

“Truly this is well, that we have left our bravest behind us! Thine

is this counsel, O Jason, that thy glory might not be shadowed by his

glory in the land of Greece, if so be that the gods shall bring us

back.” And he would have leapt on Tiphys, the helmsman, only the two

sons of Boreas held him back; for which deed they suffered afterwards,

seeing that Hercules slew them both as they returned from the funeral

games of Pelias, because they had hindered the heroes from seeking for

him. But in the midst of their anger there appeared to them the sea-god

Glaucus. From the midst of the waves he lifted his shaggy head and

breast, and laid hold of the ship, and spake: “Why do ye seek to take

Hercules to the land of the Colchians against the will of Zeus? For it

is his doom that he should fulfil his previous toils for Eurystheus,

and afterwards be numbered with the gods. And as for Polyphemus, it is

his fate to build a city in the land of the Mysians. Neither mourn ye

for Hylas, seeing that the Nymph of the fountain hath taken him for her

husband.” And when the god had so spoken he sank again into the sea,

and was hidden from their sight. Then said Telamon to Jason, clasping

him by the hand, “Pardon me, son of Æson, if I have wronged thee, and

be not wroth for my hasty words. For indeed a great sorrow drave me to

speak, and now let us be friends as before.” To him answered Jason,

“Thy words indeed were harsh when thou saidst that I had betrayed my

friend, yet I bear no anger for them. For thy wrath was not for cattle

or gold, but for a man whom thou lovest. And, indeed, I would have thee

contend with me yet again for a like cause, if such should arise.” So

Telamon and Jason were made friends. And all that day and all that

night the wind blew strong; but in the morning there was a calm; yet

the heroes plied their oars, and at sunset they drave their ship on to

the shore.

CHAPTER II.

Now the land whereunto they were come was the land of the Bebryces,

whose King was one Amycus, the son of Poseidon. No man was more

arrogant than he, for he made it a law that no stranger should depart

from the land before he had made trial of him in boxing; and thus had

he slain many. And coming down to the ship, when he had inquired of

them the cause of their journey, he spake, saying, “Hearken to me,

ye wanderers of the sea; no man cometh to the land of the Bebryces

but he must stand up against me in a fight of boxers. Choose me out,

therefore, the best of your company, and set him to fight with me

here; and if not, I will compel you.” But the heroes were very wroth

when they heard these words, and Pollux more than all. Wherefore

he stood forth before his fellows, and said, “Talk not to us of

compulsion. We will follow this custom of thine. Lo, I will meet thee

myself.” Then Amycus glared at him, even as a lion upon the hill glares

at the man that wounded him at the first, caring not for the others

that gird him about. Then Pollux laid aside his mantle, which one of

the daughters of Lemnos had given him; and Amycus also stripped off

his cloak, and put aside the great shepherd’s crook made of a wild

olive tree, that he bare. Very diverse were they to behold, for the

King was like to Typhœus, or one of the giants, the sons of Earth; but

Pollux was like a star of Heaven, so fair he was. And he tried his

hands, whether they were supple as of old, or haply were grown stiff

with toiling at the oar. But Amycus stood still, looking upon Pollux

as thirsting for his blood. Then Lycoreus, the King’s companion, threw

down at Pollux’s feet two pair of gauntlets covered with blood, and

stiff, and marvellously hard. And Amycus said, “Take which thou wilt,

stranger, that thou blame me not hereafter, and fit them to thine

hands. So haply shalt thou learn that I can fell an ox or wound a man’s

cheek to bleeding.” But Pollux answered him nothing, but smiled and

took the gauntlets that lay nearest. Then came Castor and Talaus, and

bound the gauntlets upon him, and bade him be of good courage. But

Aretus and Orniptus bound them for King Amycus, and knew not that they

should never bind them for him any more. Then the two stood up against

each other. And Amycus came on as a wave of the sea comes upon a ship;

which yet, by the skilful handling of the pilot, escapes from its

might. Then did the King follow hard after Pollux, suffering him not to

rest; but he, so skilful was he, escaped ever without a wound, for he

knew wherein lay the strength of the King, and wherein also he failed.

So the two strove together, and the sounds of their strokes was as the

sound of shipwrights that build a ship. And after awhile they rested,

wiping the sweat from their faces. Then they joined battle again, as

bulls that fight for the mastery. But at the last Amycus, rising as

one that fells an ox, smote with all his might. But Pollux leapt from

under the blow, turning his head aside; yet did the King’s arm graze

his shoulder. Then he reached forward with his knee by the knee of the

King, and smote him with all his might under the ear; and the giant

fell to the earth with a groan, and all the heroes set up a shout when

they saw it.

But the Bebryces were wroth to see that their King was slain, and they

set themselves with their clubs and hunting-spears against Pollux; but

the heroes drew their swords and stood by him. Then the battle waxed

fierce, and many of the Bebryces were slain, and of the heroes certain

were wounded; but at the last Ancæus and the two sons of Æacus and

Jason rushed upon the enemy and scattered them. After this they feasted

on the shore; and the next day they put into their ships so much of the

spoil of the land as they would, and so departed; and on the morrow

they came to the land of Phineus, the son of Agenor. Now Phineus, being

skilled in divination beyond all other men, revealed to men all that

Zeus prepared to do; for which reason the god smote him with old age

and with blindness, and also sent the plague of the Harpies upon him,

which, coming down suddenly upon him as he sat at the banquet, snatched

away the meat from the table. And if they left somewhat, it stank so

foully that a man might not touch it.

When Phineus heard that the heroes were come, he was glad, and came

forth to meet them. Very feeble was he with old age and hunger; and

when he saw them he said, “Welcome, ye heroes! Right glad I am to see

you, for I know by the inspiration of Apollo that there shall come

to this land the two sons of Boreas, who shall deliver me from this

plague that I endure.” And he told them what things he suffered from

the Harpies. Then Zetes laid hold of the old man’s hand, and said, “We

pity thee, son of Agenor, and will help thee if it may be; but first

thou must swear that we shall not anger the gods thereby; for, as thou

knowest, these evils have come upon thee because thou hast revealed

their will to men too plainly.” And the old man swore that the thing

was pleasing to the gods. Then they prepared a banquet for him, and as

soon as the old man had reached his hand to the food, of a sudden the

Harpies flew down, as lightning cometh out of the clouds, and carried

off the meat. But the two sons of Boreas followed hard after them, and

Zeus gave them strength; otherwise of a truth they had not caught them,

for the winds themselves were not more fleet. And when they had caught

them they would have slain them, only Iris, the messenger of Zeus, came

down and said, “Slay not the Harpies, that are the hounds of Zeus. I

will swear to you that they shall not come any more to the dwelling of

Phineus, the son of Agenor.” So they stayed from slaying them. After

this Phineus and the heroes feasted together, and the King said, “I

will expound to you things to come, yet so much only as the gods will

have me tell; for they will not that men should know all things, but

that they should yet need counsel and help. When ye have departed

from this land ye shall see certain rocks, between the which ye must

needs pass. Do ye therefore first send a dove before you, and if she

pass through safely then may ye also follow. And row with all your

might, for your hands rather than your prayers shall deliver you. But

if the dove perish, then do ye go back, for it is not the will of the

gods that ye should go further. After this ye shall see many places,

as Helica, and the river of Halys, and the land of the Chalybes, the

workers of iron, and at the last shall come to the river of Phasis,

whereby ye shall see the town of Æætes and the grove of Æa, where the

fleece of gold hangeth even on the top of a beech tree, and the dragon,

a terrible monster to behold, watcheth it with eyes that turn every

way.” Then were the heroes much dismayed; but when Jason would have

questioned him further, he said, “Seek ye for the help of Aphrodite,

for the victory will be of her. And now ask me no more.” And when he

had ended his words, the two sons of Boreas came back, panting from

their course, and told what things they had done. And the next morning

many were gathered together to hear from him of things to come, among

whom was a certain Parœbius, whom the King had delivered from great

trouble; for the man’s father had cut down an oak upon the mountains,

not heeding the prayers of the Nymph that dwelt therein that he should

spare it, for which reason the Nymph sent all manner of evil upon him

and his children after him. Nor did they know the cause till Phineus

expounded it to them.

After this they departed, and forgot not to take with them a dove,

which Euphemus held bound to his hand by a cord; and Athene helped

them on their way. And when they came to the rocks whereof Phineus had

spoken, Euphemus let fly the dove, and it passed through, yet did the

rocks, clashing together, touch the last feather of her tail. Then

Tiphys shouted to them that they should row with all their might, for

the rocks had parted again; but as they rowed a great terror came upon

them, for they saw destruction hanging over them; and a great wave,

like to a mountain, rose up against them. And when they saw it they

turned their heads away, thinking it must overwhelm them; but Tiphys

turned the helm, and the wave passed under the keel, lifting up the

_Argo_ to the top of the rocks. Then said Euphemus, “Row ye with all

your might.” And the heroes rowed till the stout oars were bent as

bows. Athene, also, with one hand kept the ship from the rocks, and

with the other drave it forward; and the rocks clashed together behind

it, nor were divided any more; for it was the will of the gods that

this should be so when the ship should pass through safely. But the

heroes breathed again, being delivered from death. And Tiphys cried,

“Fear not, son of Æson, for surely Athene hath delivered us, and now

all things will be easy to thee, and thou wilt accomplish the command

of the King.” But Jason spoke, “Nay, my friend. Would that I had died

before I took this task in hand, for there are perils by sea and perils

by land, and I have no rest day or night. For myself I fear not, but

for these, my companions, lest I should not take them back in safety.”

This he said, for he would try the temper of the heroes; and when they

cried out that they feared not, he was glad at heart.

So the heroes passed on their way till they came to the land of the

Mariandyni, of whom one Lycus was king. Here his doom came upon Idmon,

the seer, that he should perish; for though he was a prophet, yet his

prophecy availed him not against fate. Now there chanced to be in the

marsh a great boar, that lay wallowing in the mud. Great white tusks

had he, and even the Nymphs feared him. And as Idmon walked by the

river side, the boar rushed on him of a sudden out of the reeds, and

smote him on the thigh with his tusk, making a great wound. The hero

fell not, indeed, but shouted aloud; and his companions ran thither at

his voice. And first Peleus cast his javelin at the beast, but missed

his aim; and afterwards Idas smote him, and he gnashed his teeth upon

the spear. Then the heroes carried back their companion to the ship,

but he died even as they carried him. Then they abode in that place for

three days, and on the fourth they made a great funeral for him; and

Lycus and his people came also to do honor to the dead man. But while

they mourned for him it befell that Tiphys, the pilot, died also; for

he could not endure his great sorrow for his companion. So they buried

Tiphys also; and for each they built a great tomb, to be a memorial to

them who should come after.

Sore dismayed were the heroes that their helmsman was dead, and they

sat a long time in silence, and neither ate nor drank. Then Heré put

courage into the heart of Ancæus, and he spake to Peleus, saying, “Is

it well, son of Æacus, to abide here in the land of strangers? Here am

I that know more of seamanship than of war, and others also as skilful;

nor should we suffer loss if we set one of them at the helm.” Then

spake Peleus in the midst of the heroes, “Why waste we time in sorrow,

my friends? There are skilful helmsmen; many are in this company, of

whom let us choose us out the best.” But Jason answered, “If there be

such, why sit they here with the rest lamenting? I fear me much that we

shall neither see the city of Æætes nor yet the land of Greece.” But

Ancæus stood forth, saying that he would be their helmsman; so also did

Euphemus and other two; but the heroes chose Ancæus.

So on the morning of the twelfth day they set sail, and a strong

west wind blew from behind and carried them quickly over the sea.

But when they came to the tomb of Sthenelus they beheld a marvellous

sight. Now this Sthenelus was companion to Hercules in battling with

the Amazons, and had been wounded with an arrow, and so died. And he

besought Persephone, that is Queen of the dead, that he might look upon

the heroes; and when she consented, he stood upon the top of his tomb

equipped as one that went forth to battle, with a fair four-crested

helmet on his head. Much did the heroes marvel to behold him. But

Mopsus, the seer, bade them tarry and make offerings to the dead.

Wherefore they landed and built an altar, and offered sacrifices, and

Orpheus also dedicated his harp for a gift. After this they departed,

and sailed by the river of Parthenius, which is by interpretation the

Virgin River; so men call it, because Artemis the Virgin, the daughter

of Latona, is wont to bathe therein when she is weary with hunting.

Also they passed the river of Thermodon, and tarried not, for such was

the will of Zeus, that they might not join battle with the Amazons

who dwelt in these parts, a fierce race and delighting in war. Surely

not without much bloodshed and damage to both such battle had been.

The next day they came to the land of the Chalybes. These care not to

plough the land with oxen, or to plant seed or to reap harvests; nor

have they flocks or herds; but they dig iron out of the earth, and

change it with other men for food. Never doth morning come, but it

seeth them at their toil, where they labor without ceasing in the midst

of reek and smoke. But after the Chalybes they came to the Mossyni, a

strange folk that are contrary to other men, doing abroad what others

do at home, and at home what others do abroad. Their king also sitteth

all day on his throne, and judgeth his people; nor, indeed, is he to

be envied for all his royal state, seeing that if he err at all in

his judgment the people shut him in prison till he die of hunger.

Next they came to the island of Aretias, wherefrom as they sailed in

the twilight there came a great bird flying over them, and shooting a

sharp-pointed feather from its wing. And the feather struck Oïleus on

his left shoulder and wounded him, so that he dropped the oar from his

hand. After this came other like birds also; and though the heroes shot

at them with arrows and slew certain of them, yet could they not drive

them away. Then said Amphidamas to his companions: “We are come to the

island of Aretias, and I judge that we shall not prevail over these

birds with our arrows. For Hercules prevailed not thus over the birds

of the Lake Stymphalus, as I saw with my own eyes. Do ye, therefore,

as I bid you. Put ye on your helmets, and let some of you row with the

oars, and let the rest so order their spears and their shields that

they may be a covering to the ship. Shout also with all your might; and

when ye shall be come nigh unto the island, beat upon your shields, and

make all the noise that ye may.” And the heroes did so, and covered the

ship, even as a house is covered from the rain by its roof; and they

shouted and beat upon their shields; nor did they suffer further damage

from the birds.

Now it chanced in these days that the sons of Phrixus sailed from the

land of King Æætes to the city of Orchomenus, that they might get for

themselves the possessions of their father. And coming near to this

same island of Aretias, a mighty wind from the north brake their ship;

and the men, being four in number, laid hold of a beam, and so were

driven about by the waves, being in great peril of death, till, at the

last, they were cast upon the shore of the island. Therefore, when the

_Argo_ came near, one of them spake to the heroes, saying, “We entreat

you, whosoever ye be, to help us, seeing that the waves have broken our

ship. Give us, I pray you, some clothing and a morsel of food.” Then

said Jason, “Tell us who you are, and whence ye are come, and whither

ye go.” Then the man made answer, “Doubtless ye have heard how Phrixus

came to the city of King Æætes on a ram with the fleece of gold, and

how the fleece hangeth to this day on a tree near to the city; how

the King gave to this Phrixus his daughter Chalciope in marriage; and

we are the children of these two. And our father being newly dead, we

sailed to Orchomenus that we might get for ourselves the possessions of

Athamas, our grandfather; for so Phrixus, our father, commanded us.”

The heroes were right glad of this meeting, and Jason made answer,

“Ye are my kinsmen, for Cretheus and Athamas were brothers, and I am

grandson to Cretheus; and I sail with these my comrades to the city of

King Æætes. But of these things we will talk hereafter. But now we will

give you what ye need.” So he gave them clothing, and afterwards they

did sacrifice in the Temple of Ares that was hard by, and there feasted

together. And after the feast Jason spake, saying, “It is manifest that

Zeus hath a care both for you and for us; for us he hath brought safely

through many perils to this place, and you he suffered not to perish in

the sea. Ye shall sail hereafter in this ship whithersoever ye will;

but now do ye help us in our quest, for we are come from the land of

Greece seeking the fleece of gold, and we would gladly have you for our

guides.”

But the men were sore dismayed to hear these words, knowing what

manner of man King Æætes was. And he who had spoken at the first made

answer, “O my friends, ye shall have such help as we can give you. But

know that Æætes is fierce and savage beyond all other men, and that

your voyage is perilous. Men say that he is of the race of the Sun, and

he is mighty in battle as Ares himself. Nor will it be an easy thing to

carry away the fleece, for a dragon watcheth it continually, and this

dragon cannot be slain, and it sleepeth not.” Then many of the heroes,

when they heard these words, grew pale. But Peleus spake out boldly:

“Fear not, my friend; we lack not strength to meet King Æætes in

battle, if need be, for we are well used to war, and are, for the most

part, of the race of the gods. Wherefore, if the King yield us not the

fleece peaceably, I judge that his Colchians shall not help him.”

After this the heroes slept. And the next day they departed, and

sailing with a favorable wind, came near to the further end of the

Euxine Sea; thence they could see the mountains of Caucasus, whereto

the Titan Prometheus is bound. And indeed in the evening they beheld

the great vulture which feedeth on his liver flying above their ship;

and after a while they heard the Titan groaning with the bitterness of

his pain, and then again the vulture returning by the same way when

his feast was ended. That night, by skilful guidance of the sons of

Phrixus, they came to the river of Phasis, and straightway they lowered

the sails and the yardarms, and afterwards the mast, and so entered the

river. And on their left hand was the mountain of Caucasus and the city

of Æætes, and on the right the oak grove wherein the dragon watched

continually the fleece of gold. And Jason poured a libation of wine

from a cup of gold into the river, praying to the gods of the land and

to the spirits of the dead heroes that they should help them in their

quest. And when their prayers were ended they fastened the ship with

anchors under cover of a wood that was hard by, and so slept.

CHAPTER III.

But while the heroes lay hidden among the reeds of the river, Heré

and Athene sought a chamber where they might hold counsel apart from

the other gods. And Heré first spake, saying, “Come now, daughter of

Zeus, consider by what craft or device we may bring it to pass that the

heroes may carry back the fleece of gold to the land of Greece.” Then

Athene made answer, “That which thou askest, O Heré, I had already in

my thoughts; but though I have weighed many counsels, yet have I not

found one that would serve this purpose.” Then said Heré, “Come, let

us go to Aphrodite, and when we have found her let us persuade her to

command her son, if only he will hearken to her words, that he smite

the daughter of King Æætes with an arrow, that she may love Prince

Jason, for she is skilful in magic and drugs.” This counsel pleased

Athene mightily, and she said, “I know not anything of these matters,

nor can I say what may work love in a maiden’s heart. Yet thy counsel

pleaseth me; only when we are come to Aphrodite do thou speak for us

both.”

So the two departed, and came to the palace of Aphrodite, which her

husband, the halting god, had wrought for her when he first took her

to wife, and they stood in the porch. Now Hephæstes was gone to his

workshop, and the goddess sat alone over against the door; and she

was combing her hair with a comb of gold, and weaving her tresses. But

when she saw the two she rose from her seat, and gave them welcome, and

spake, saying, “What is your errand, that ye are come now after these

many years?”

To her Heré made answer, “We are in trouble, O Queen, for Jason and

they that are with him are come to the river of Phasis, seeking the

fleece of gold; and I fear for him. Yet would I serve him with all my

strength, on whatever errand he might go, for he hath always honored

me with sacrifices; and besides he did me good service at the river

of Anaurus. For the mountains were white with snow, and the streams

came down from the heights, and the river was swollen. And Jason came

from his hunting, and when he saw me he had pity on me, for I had made

myself like to an old woman, and he carried me over the river.”

Then said Aphrodite, “It were ill done of me were I to deny such help

as these weak hands can give.”

And Heré spake again, “We want no help of hands, be they weak or

strong. Only bid thy son smite with his arrows the daughter of King

Æætes, for surely if she be willing to help him he will easily carry

away the fleece of gold, and so come safe to Iolcos.”

But Aphrodite made answer, “Surely he will hearken to you rather than

to me. For to you, shameless though he be, he must needs pay some

reverence; but me he heedeth not at all. I had well-nigh broken in my

wrath his arrows and his bows.”

And when the goddesses laughed, she spake again, saying, “Yea, I know

that others laugh at my sorrows. But if ye are urgent for this thing, I

will persuade him, and I doubt not but that he will hearken to me.”

So the three went together to the halls of Olympus. And they found

Eros playing at dice with Ganymede, that was the cupbearer of Zeus;

and he laughed aloud, for he had won at his playing, but the other was

angry, having lost. And when Aphrodite saw him, she said, “Hast thou

defrauded him, after thy wont, that thou laughest? But come, do now

what I shall tell thee, and thou shalt have a fair plaything of Zeus

that his nurse Adrastea made for him, a ball with two bands of gold

about it; and none can see the seams of it; and when thou throwest it

it will glitter like a star. And the thing is this: that thou make the

maiden daughter of King Æætes to love Jason; and this thou must do

without delay, or it profiteth nothing.”

Then cried Eros, “Give me the ball straightway.” But she caught him in

her arms and kissed him, and said, “I will not deceive thee, only do my

bidding.” Then he took up his bow and passed his quiver on his back,

and went his way to the land of Colchis.

Meanwhile Jason spoke to the heroes, “Hearken now, and I will unfold

my counsel. I will go to the hall of Æætes, and the sons of Phrixus

with me, and two heroes besides; and first I will make trial of him,

whether he will yield the fleece of gold willingly, for it would be ill

to seek to take it by force till we have seen what words can do.” To

this the heroes agreed; wherefore Jason departed, taking with him the

sons of Phrixus, and Telamon and Augeas; and as they went Heré threw a

mist about them till they had passed through the city, but when they

came to the palace of the King, then was the mist scattered; and they

stood in the porch marvelling at the things which they saw, even the

mighty gates, and the walls set with pillars, and the cornice of brass

above them. Round about the threshold grew great vines, and under the

vines four fountains that ceased not to flow, whereof one was of milk,

and one of wine, and one of sweet-smelling olive-oil, and of water the

fourth; and the water was hot in the wintertide, and as cold as ice in

the summer. In the midst stood the hall, with chambers on either side,

two chambers being loftier than the rest, in one whereof dwelt the King

and his wife, and in the other Absyrtus his son, whom the Colchians

also called Phaeton, because he excelled all his equals of age. Now

two of the chambers were of the King’s daughters, Chalciope and Medea;

and it chanced that Medea was now going to the chamber of her sister.

Meanwhile came Eros unseen through the air, and stood behind a pillar

in the porch, and bent his bow, fitting to it an arrow, the sharpest

of all his quiver. And he came lightly into the hall, following close

upon Jason, and drew his bow with both his hands, and shot the arrow

at Medea, and smote her under the heart. And when he had so done he

laughed, and departed from the palace. Then the servants prepared a

meal for the sons of Phrixus and for Jason. And when they had bathed

they sat down, and ate, and drank, and were merry.

Jason and the sons of Phrixus having eaten well, the King inquired

of his grandsons, saying, “What brings you back? Did some misfortune

overtake you on your journey? Surely it was not of my bidding that ye

went; for I knew how perilous was the way, having seen it from the

chariot of the Sun, my father, when he took Circé, my sister, to the

land of Hesperia. But tell me now what befell you, and who are these

your companions?” Then Argus made answer, “Our ship was broken and

we scarcely were saved; and as for these men, they gave us food and

raiment, treating us kindly when they heard thy name and the name of

Phrixus our father; and they are come for the fleece of gold, for they

say that the wrath of Zeus may not be turned away from the land of

Greece till this be brought back. Never was such ship as theirs, for

Athene built it; neither can storm break it, and it is swift alike

with sails or with oars; and for a crew it hath all the heroes of the

land of Greece. But their chief thinketh not to take the fleece by

force, but will make thee due return, subduing under thee thy enemies,

the Sauromatæ. And if thou wouldst hear his name, know that it is

Jason, grandson to King Cretheus, whose brother was Athamas, father to

Phrixus, and they that are with him are Augeas and Telamon.”

But the King was very wroth when he heard these words, and cried, “Get

you out of my sight! Ye are not come for the fleece, but to spy out the

land, that ye may possess my kingdom. Surely, had ye not eaten at my

table, I had cut out your tongues and lopped your hands.”

Then Telamon was minded to give the King a fierce answer, but Jason

held him back, and spake softly, “’Tis not as thou thinkest, O King; we

do not desire thy kingdom, but are coming at the bidding of the gods.

Also for what we seek we will make thee due recompense, subduing under

thee the Sauromatæ, or whomsoever thou wilt.”

Then the King doubted awhile whether he should not fall on them

straightway with the sword, but afterwards spake again, “If ye be in

truth of the race of the gods, I will give you the fleece, for I grudge

nothing to brave men. But first I must make trial of your strength.

There feed in the plain of Ares two bulls, having hoofs of brass and

breathing fire from their nostrils. With these I plough the field of

Ares, four acres and more; and, having ploughed it, I sow it with

seed--not, indeed, with the seed of corn, but with the teeth of a

serpent; and when these have sprung up into armed men, I slay the men

and so finish my harvest. In the morning I yoke the bulls, and in the

evening I rest from my reaping. And if ye will do this, ye shall have

the fleece of gold; but if not, ye shall not have it.”

Then the heroes stood for a while, with their eyes cast upon the

ground, speechless, for they knew not what they should say. But

afterwards Jason spake, “I will do this thing, even if I die for it.”

And the King answered, “If ye hold back from the ploughing or the

reaping it shall be the worse for you.” Then Jason and his companions

departed from the palace; and Medea looked upon Jason, as he went,

from behind her veil, and loved him. And when he was gone she thought

to herself of his face, and of the garments wherewith he was clothed,

and of the words which he had spoken. But when the heroes were now

without the city, Argus spake to Jason saying, “There is a maiden,

the priestess of Hecate, that is skilled in all manner of witchcraft;

and, if she be willing to help you, ye need not fear this task. Only I

doubt me much whether I shall prevail with her. Nevertheless, if thou

art willing, I will speak with my mother, who is her sister, of the

matter.” And Jason said, “Speak to thy mother, if thou wilt; but, if

we must trust in women, there is little hope of our return.” Then they

went back to the ship to the rest of the heroes, and told to them the

words of the King. And for a while they sat speechless and sad, for

the thing seemed greater than they could do. But then rose up Peleus,

and cried, “If thou wilt give thyself to this task, son of Æson, it

is well; but if not, and if there be none other of this company that

will adventure upon it, yet will I not shrink from it, for a man can

but die.” And Telamon and the sons of Tyndarus, and Meleager the son

of Œneus, said that they would follow him. Then said Argus, “This can

ye do, my friends, if there be no other way. But hearken to me: abide

ye yet in your ship, for there is a maiden in the palace of the King

whom Hecate hath taught to use all the drugs that are in the earth, so

that she can quench fire, and stay winds, and turn the stars from their

courses. Maybe my mother will persuade her that she help you. If this

counsel please you, I will go to her straightway.”

And as he spake, the birds gave a favorable sign, for a dove that fled

from a hawk fell into the bosom of Jason; and the hawk fell upon the

hinder part of the ship. And when Mopsus saw it he prophesied saying,

“Ye must make your supplication to the maiden. Nor do I doubt that she

will hearken to you; for did not Phrixus prophesy that our help should

be in Aphrodite? And did ye not see how the dove that is her bird hath

escaped from death?” And all the heroes gave heed to his words; but

Idas was very wroth, and cried with a terrible voice, “Will ye look at

doves and hawks, and turn back from battle? Out on you, that ye think

to cheat maidens with words, rather than to trust in your spears!” But

Jason said, “We will send Argus as he hath said. Only we will not lie

hidden here, as if we were afraid, but will go forth.” So the heroes

brought forth the ship.

Meanwhile, King Æætes held a council of the Colchians, to whom he said,

“So soon as the oxen have killed, as surely they will kill, the man

who shall seek to yoke them, then will I burn these fellows with their

ship. For, verily, I had not received Phrixus with hospitality, but

for the commands of Zeus; but as for these robbers, they shall not go

unpunished.”

But while he yet spake, Argus went to the palace to his mother

Chalciope, and besought her that she should persuade her sister Medea

to help the heroes. And this the woman had herself thought to do; only

she feared the anger of her father. And as they talked, it befell that

Medea dreamed a dream, for she had fallen asleep for weariness. And in

her dream she yoked the bulls right easily; but her father would not

fulfil his promise, saying that he had given this task not to maidens

but to men; and hereupon there arose great strife; but she took part

with the strangers, and her parents cried shame upon her. After this

she awoke, and leapt in great fear from her bed, saying to herself, “I

fear me much lest this coming of the heroes should be the beginning of

great sorrows. As for this Jason, let him wed a maiden of his own race;

but I will keep my unmarried state, and abide in my father’s house;

yet, if my sister need help for her sons, I will not stand aloof.” Then

she made as if she would seek her sister, standing barefoot on the

threshold of her chamber, yet went not, for shame. Thrice she essayed

to go, and thrice she returned, for love drove her on, as shame kept

her back; but one of her maidens spied her, and told the thing to her

sister Chalciope. And Chalciope came to her and took her by the hand,

saying, “Why weepest thou, Medea? Dost thou fear the wrath of thy

father? As for me, would that I had perished before I saw this day!”

And after long silence Medea made answer, speaking craftily, for love

so taught her to speak, “My sister, I am troubled for thy sons, lest

thy father slay them with these strangers; for, verily, I have seen

terrible dreams in my sleep.” So she spake, for she would have her

sister pray to her for help for her sons. And when Chalciope heard

these words she cried aloud, “O my sister, I beseech thee by the gods,

and by thy father and mother, that thou help us in our strait. For,

verily, if thou help us not, I will haunt thee as a Fury.” Then the two

lifted up their voices together and wept. But at the last Chalciope

said, “Wilt thou not, for my children’s sake, give help to this

stranger? Verily, my son Argus is come to beg this thing of me, and he

is even now in my chamber.” When Medea heard these words she was glad

at heart, and said, “My sister, I will surely help thy sons, for they

are as brothers to me, and thou as my mother. Wherefore, so soon as it

is dark, I will carry to the temple of Hecate such drugs as shall tame

these oxen.” Then Chalciope went to her chamber, and told the tidings

to her son that Medea would help them; but Medea sat alone and lamented

over herself, because she was minded to betray her father to do service

to a stranger. Nor did she sleep when night came and all the world was

at rest, doubting whether she should do this thing or no, and crying,

“Would that Artemis had slain me with her arrows before this stranger

came to the land!” And she rose from her bed, and looked into the chest

wherein her drugs were stored, some being good and some evil. And now

she was minded to take from it some deadly thing that she might end

herewith her troubles, but there came upon her a great horror at death,

for she thought of all the joys that the living possess, but the dead

lose forever; and also, when she regarded her face in the glass, she

seemed to herself fairer to look upon than before.

But in the morning she arose and adorned herself, and put a white veil

about her head. Then she bade her maidens--twelve she had of like

age with herself--to yoke the mules to her chariot, that she might

go to the temple of Hecate. And while they yoked them, she took from

the chest the medicine that is called the _Medicine of Prometheus_,

wherewith if a man anoint himself, water shall not hurt him, nor fire

burn. This cometh, men say, from a certain flower which grew from the

blood of Prometheus when it dropped from the vulture’s beak, and the

flower is of the color saffron, having a root like to flesh that is

newly cut, but the juice of the root is black. Then she climbed into

the chariot, and a maiden stood on either side, but she took the reins

and the whip, and drove the horses through the city, and the other

maidens ran behind, laying their hands on the chariot; and the people

made way before them as they went.

And when they were come to the temple, Medea said to her maidens,

“Argus and his brethren have besought me to help this stranger in his

task, and I made as if I hearkened to their words. But the thing that I

am minded to do is this: I will give him some medicine indeed, but it

shall not be that which he needs, and we will divide his gifts between

us. And now he cometh to have speech with me; do ye, therefore, depart,

and leave us alone.” And the counsel pleased the maidens well.

Now when Jason went his way to the temple, Argus and Mopsus, the

soothsayer, were with him; and as they went Mopsus heard the speech of

a raven that said, “Verily the prophet is a fool; if he knew what all

men know, will a maid speak kind words to a youth if his companions

be with us?” And Mopsus laughed when he heard it, and spake to Jason

saying, “Go now to the temple of Hecate, and Aphrodite will help thee,

but go alone; and I and Argus will abide where we are.” So Jason went

forward, and Medea saw him as he came, very beautiful and bright to

behold, even as the star Sirius, when it riseth from the sea. But when

she saw him her eyes were darkened with fear, and her cheeks burned

with a blush, and her knees failed under her. But when Jason saw how

she was troubled, he spake softly to her: “Fear me not, lady, for I am

not of those who speak the thing that is false; but listen to my words,

and give me this medicine that shall strengthen me for my work, as thou

hast promised to Chalciope, thy sister. Verily thou shalt not miss thy

reward. For thou shalt be famous in the land of Greece; and all the

heroes shall tell of thee, and their wives and mothers, who now sit

lamenting upon the shore for those who are far away. Did not Ariadne

help King Theseus, and the gods loved her for her kindness, making her

a star in the heavens? So shalt thou be loved of the gods, if thou wilt

save this famous company of heroes. And, indeed, thou seemest to be

both wise and of a kindly heart.”

And when the maiden heard these words, she took the medicine from her

bosom and gave it to Jason, who took it with great gladness of heart.

Then spake Medea: “Hear, now, O Prince, what thou must do, so soon as

my father shall give thee the serpent’s teeth to sow. Wait till it be

midnight; but have no companion with thee. Then dig a trench that shall

be round of form; and build in it a pile of wood, and slay on it a ewe

sheep, and pour over the sheep a libation of honey to Queen Hecate.

After this, depart from the place, and turn not at any sound, or the

barking of dogs. But in the morning thou shalt anoint thyself with the

medicine; and it shall give thee the strength of the gods. Anoint also

thy spear and thy shield. So the spears of the giants shall not harm

thee, nor the fire that the bulls shall breathe. But remember that

this strength endureth for the day only; wherefore slack not thy hand,

but finish thy work. And I will tell thee another thing that shall be

for thy help. So soon as the giants shall begin to spring up from the

furrows wherein thou shalt have sown the teeth, throw secretly among

them a great stone; and it shall come to pass that they will fall upon

each other and perish by their own hands. So wilt thou carry away the

fleece of gold to the land of Greece, departing when it shall please

thee to go.” And when she had spoken these words she wept, thinking

how he would depart and leave her. Then she spake again: “When thou

art come to thy home, remember, I pray thee, Medea, even as I shall

remember thee; and tell me whither thou art minded to go.”

Then Jason made answer, “Surely, lady, I shall not cease to think of

thee if only I return safe to my native country. And if thou wouldst

fain hear what manner of land it is, know that it is girded about

with the hills and feedeth many sheep. The name of him that founded

the kingdom is Deucalion, and the name of the city is Iolcos.” And

Medea said, “I would that where thou shalt be there could come some

tidings of thee by bird of the air or the like; or that the winds could

carry me thither, that I may know for a certainty that thou hast not

forgotten me.” Then Jason said, “O lady, if thou wilt come to that

land, surely all shall honor thee, and thou shalt be my wife, neither

shall anything but death only divide us twain.” And when the maiden

heard these words she stood divided between fear and love. But Jason

said, “Surely now the sun is setting, and it is time to go back, lest

some stranger come upon us.” So Medea went back to the city, and Jason

to the heroes, to whom he showed the medicine that the maiden had given

him. And they all rejoiced, save Idas only, who sat apart in great

anger.

The next day Jason sent Telamon and another to fetch from the King the

serpent’s teeth; and the King gave them gladly, for he thought that if

Jason should yoke the oxen, yet he should not overcome the giants in

battle. And when the heroes slept, Jason went alone and did as Medea

had commanded him. And when he had finished the sacrifice he departed;

and Queen Hecate came, and there was a great shaking of the earth and a

barking of dogs. But Jason looked not behind him, but departed to the

heroes.

On the morrow King Æætes armed him for the battle, giving him a

breastplate which Ares had given to him, and a helmet of gold with

four crests, and a shield of bull’s hide, many folds thick, and a

spear such as none of the others but Hercules only could have borne.

And Jason anointed them with the medicine; which when he had done, all

the heroes made trial of the arms, but did them no damage; and when

Idas smote with his sword on the butt of the spear, it bounded back as

from an anvil. After this he anointed himself with the medicine, and

it was as if his strength had been multiplied tenfold. Afterwards he

took to himself a helmet and a sword, and so went forth to his labor.

And there lay ready to his hand a brazen yoke of the bulls, and a great

plough of iron. Then he fixed his spear in the earth, and laid down his

helmet, but he himself went on with his shield. But when the bulls saw

him, they ran forth from their stalls, and all the heroes trembled to

behold them; but Jason stood firm, holding his shield before him. And

the bulls drave their horns against the shield, but harmed him not.

And though they breathed fire from their nostrils, for all this the

medicine of Medea kept him safe. Then he took hold of the right-hand

bull by the horns, and dragged it down to the yoke, and, kicking its

hoof from under it, so brought it to the ground; and in like manner

dealt with the other. And the King marvelled at his strength. Then the

heroes helped him with the fastening of the bulls to the plough, for so

much was permitted to him. Then he put his shield upon his shoulders

and took the serpent’s teeth, a helmet full, and drave the bulls before

him, which went with a horrible bellowing; and as he made the furrow he

threw the teeth into it. Now when the day was a third part spent he had

finished the ploughing; and he loosed the bulls and went back to the

ship, for as yet there had sprung nothing from the furrows. And he took

of the water of the river in his helmet and drank, and while he drank

the giants sprang up from the furrows.

Then Jason remembered the words of Medea, and took from the earth a

great round stone--of such bigness it was that four youths could not

lift it--and cast it into the midst of the giants. And straightway they

fell upon each other with great rage, and Jason sat behind his shield

and watched. But when they had been now fighting among themselves for a

long while, and many were wounded and many dead, Jason drew his sword

and ran among them till he had slain them all. So he finished his work

that day; but the King and his people returned, sad at heart, to the

city.

All that night the King sat with his nobles, meditating harm against

Jason and the heroes; for he knew that the thing had been done by

craft, and also that his daughter was concerned in the matter. And

Medea also sat grievously troubled in her chamber, fearing the wrath of

her father; and ofttime she thought that she had best kill herself with

poison. But at last Heré put it into her heart that she should flee,

taking the sons of Phrixus for companions. Then she arose from her bed,

and took the medicines that she had from their chest, and hid them in

her bosom.

And she kissed her bed and the posts of her chamber doors and the

walls. Also she cut off a long lock of her hair, to be a memorial

of her to her mother. And when she had done this, she cried with a

lamentable voice, “Farewell, my mother, and thou, Chalciope, my sister!

Would that this stranger had perished before he came to the land of the

Colchians!” Then she went out from the house, the great gates opening

before her of their own accord, for she had anointed them with a mighty

drug; and, being come into the street, she ran very swiftly, holding

her robe over her head, till she saw the light of the fires where the

heroes sat feasting all the night in the joy of the victory that Jason

had won. Then she came near, and, lifting up her voice, cried to the

youngest of the sons of Phrixus, whose name was Phrontis. And Phrontis

heard her, and knew the voice that it was the voice of Medea, and told

the thing to Jason. Then Jason bade the heroes be silent; and they

listened. Thrice she cried, and thrice did Phrontis answer her. And the

heroes loosed the ship and rowed it across the river; but ere ever it

came to the other shore, Jason and the sons of Phrixus leapt from the

deck on to the land.

And when Medea saw the brothers, she ran to them, and caught them by

the knees, and cried to them, “Save me now from King Æætes! yea, and

save yourselves also, for all things are now known to him. Let us

fly hence in the ship, before he come upon us with a great army. But

first I will give the fleece into your hands, having laid to sleep the

dragon that guardeth it. But do thou, Prince Jason, do as thou didst

promise, calling the gods to witness.” And Jason was glad when he saw

her, and took her by the hand, and lifted her up, and spake kindly to

her, saying, “Dearest of women, now may Zeus and Heré his wife, that

is the goddess of marriage, be my witnesses that I will take thee to

wife as soon as we shall have returned to the land of Greece.” Then he

bade the heroes row the ship to the sacred grove, for he was minded

to take away the fleece that very night, before the King should know

of the matter. Then the heroes rowed; and the _Argo_ passed quickly

over the waves till they came to the grove. Then Medea and Jason went

forth from the ship, and followed the path, seeking for the great bush

whereon the fleece was hung. And in no long space they found it; for

it was like a cloud which the shining of the sun makes bright when he

riseth in the East. But before the tree there lay a great serpent, with

eyes that slept not night nor day. Horribly did it hiss as they came.

But Medea cried aloud to Sleep, that is mightiest among the servants

of the gods, that he should help her. Also she called to the Queen of

Night, that their undertaking might prosper in their hands. And now the

great serpent, being wrought upon by her charms, began to unloose his

folds; yet his head was lifted up against them, and his dreadful jaws

were opened. Therefore Medea took a bough that she had newly cut from a

juniper tree, and put a mighty medicine upon it, and dropped the drops

of the medicine into his mouth, singing her charms all the while. Then

sleep came upon the beast, and he dropped his head upon the ground.

When Jason saw this, he snatched the fleece of gold from the tree, for

Medea had bidden him do it and delay not; but she stood the while and

put the medicine on the head of the beast, fearing lest perchance he

should awake. After this they both departed from the grove; and Jason

carried the fleece with great gladness of heart. A mighty fleece

it was, hanging down from his shoulders even to his feet. And as he

went the day dawned. And when he was come near to the ship the heroes

marvelled to behold him, for the fleece was very bright to look upon.

But when they would have touched it, Jason hindered them, and covered

it with a covering which he had prepared for it.

Then Jason said to his companions, “Come now, my friends; we have

accomplished this thing for the which we came to this land. Let us

think, therefore, of our return. As to this maiden, I will take her

to be my wife in the land of Greece. But do you remember that she has

saved all our lives this day. Row, therefore, with all your might,

the half of you; and let half hold forth your shields to be a defence

against the spears of our enemies, if they should come upon us. For as

ye shall quit yourselves this day, so shall it be whether or no we see

again our native country and our homes.” Then he cut with his sword the

cable of the ship; bidding the maiden sit by the helmsman Ancæus. Then

the heroes rowed with all their might, and were far away before the

King had knowledge of their going.

Many things they suffered in their journey, and many lands they

visited, for the gods suffered them not to return by the way by which

they went, and some of them perished; but at the last they brought back

the ship _Argo_ to the land of Greece, and the Fleece of Gold for which

Pelias had sent them. And when they were returned, Prince Jason took

Medea to be his wife.

THE

STORY OF THEBES.

CHAPTER I.

It befell in times past that the Gods, being angry with the inhabitants

of Thebes, sent into their land a very noisome beast which men called

the Sphinx. Now this beast had the face and breast of a very fair

woman, but the feet and claws of a lion; and it was wont to ask a

riddle of such as encountered it; and such as answered not aright it

would tear and devour. Now when it had laid waste the land many days,

there chanced to come to Thebes one Œdipus, who had fled from the city

of Corinth that he might escape the doom which the Gods had spoken

against him. And the men of the place told him of the Sphinx, how she

cruelly devoured the people, and that he who should deliver them from

her should have the kingdom. So Œdipus, being very bold, and also ready

of wit, went forth to meet the monster. And when she saw him she spake,

saying:--

“Read me this riddle right, or die:

What liveth there beneath the sky,

Four-footed creature that doth choose

Now three feet and now twain to use.

And still more feebly o’er the plain

Walketh with three feet than with twain?”

And Œdipus made reply:--

“’Tis man, who in life’s early day

Four-footed crawleth on his way;

When time hath made his strength complete,

Upright his form and twain his feet;

When age hath bowed him to the ground,

A third foot in his staff is found.”

And when the Sphinx found that her riddle was answered, she cast

herself from a high rock and perished. Now for a while Œdipus reigned

in great power and glory; but afterwards his doom came upon him, so

that in his madness he put out his own eyes. Then his two sons cast him

into prison, and took his kingdom, making agreement between themselves

that each should reign for the space of one year. And the elder of the

two, whose name was Eteocles, first had the kingdom; but when his year

was come to an end, he would not abide by his promise, but kept that

which he should have given up, and drave out his younger brother from

the city. Then the younger, whose name was Polynices, fled to Argos, to

King Adrastus. And after a while he married the daughter of the King,

who made a covenant with him that he would bring him back with a high

hand to Thebes, and set him on the throne of his father. Then the King

sent messengers to certain of the princes of Greece, entreating that

they would help in this matter. And of these some would not, but others

hearkened to his words, so that a great army was gathered together,

and followed the King and Polynices to make war against Thebes. So

they came and pitched their camp over against the city. And after that

they had fought against it many days, and yet had prevailed nothing,

Adrastus held a council of the chiefs, and it was agreed that next day,

early in the morning, they should assault the city with all their

might. And when the morning was come the chiefs were gathered together,

being seven in number. And first of all they slew a bull, and caught

the blood of the beast in the hollow of a shield, into which they

dipped their hands, and sware a great oath that they would take the

city of Thebes or die. And having sworn, they hung upon the chariot of

Adrastus what should be memorials of them, each for his own father and

mother, all weeping the while. After this they cast lots for the places

which they should take, for there were seven gates to the city, that

each chief might assault a gate.

But their purpose was known to the King, Eteocles, for he had heard the

whole matter from Tiresias, the wise seer, who told beforehand all that

should come to pass, discovering it from the voice of birds; for, being

blind he could not judge from their flight, or from the tokens of fire,

as other soothsayers are wont. Wherefore the King gathered together

all that could bear arms, even youths not grown, and old men that were

waxed feeble with age, and bade them fight for the land, for “she,” he

said, “gave you birth and reared you, and now asketh that ye help her

in this her need. And though hitherto we have fared well in this war,

know ye for certain, for Tiresias the soothsayer hath said it, that

there cometh a great danger this day upon the city. Wherefore haste ye

to the battlements, and to the towers that are upon the walls, and take

your stand in the gates, and be of good courage, and quit you like men.”

And as he made an end of speaking there ran in one who declared that

even now the enemy was about to assault the city. And after him came a

troop of maidens of Thebes, crying out that the enemy had come forth

from the camp, and that they heard the tramp of many feet upon the

earth, and the rattling of shields, and the noise of many spears. And

they lifted up their voices to the Gods that they should help the

city, to Ares, the God of the Golden Helmet, that he should defend the

land which in truth was his from old time, and to Father Zeus, and to

Pallas, who was the daughter of Zeus, and to Poseidon, the great ruler

of the sea, and to Aphrodité the Fair, for that she was the mother

of their race, and to Apollo, the Wolf-king, that he would be as a

devouring wolf to the enemy, and to Artemis, that she should bend her

bow against them, and to Heré, the Queen of Heaven, even to all the

dwellers in Olympus, that they should defend the city, and save it.

But the King was very wroth when he heard this outcry, and cried,

“Think ye to make bold the hearts of our men by these lamentations?

Now may the Gods save me from this race of women; for if they be bold

no man can endure their insolence, and if they be afraid they vex

both their home and their country. Even so now do ye help them that

are without and trouble your own people. But hearken to this. He that

heareth not my command, be he man or woman, the people shall stone him.

Speak I plainly?”

“But, O son of Œdipus,” the maidens made reply, “we hear the rolling of

the chariot wheels, and the rattling of the axles, and the jingling of

the bridle reins.”

“What then?” said the King, “if the ship labor in the sea, and the

helmsman leave the helm and fly to the prow that he may pray before the

image, doeth he well?”

“Nay, blame us not that we came to beseech the Gods when we heard the

hailstorm of war rattling on the gates.”

“’Tis well,” cried the King, “yet men say that the Gods leave the city

that is at the point to fall. And mark ye this, that safety is the

child of obedience. But as for duty, ’tis for men to do sacrifice to

the Gods, and for women to keep silence and to abide at home.”

But the maidens made reply, “’Tis the Gods who keep this city, nor do

they transgress who reverence them.”

“Yea, but let them reverence them in due order. And now hearken to me.

Keep ye silence. And when I have made my prayer, raise ye a joyful

shout that shall gladden the hearts of our friends and put away all

fear from them. And to the Gods that keep this city I vow that if they

give us victory in this war I will sacrifice to them sheep and oxen,

and will hang up in their houses the spoils of the enemy. And now, ye

maidens, do ye also make your prayers, but not with vain clamor. And

I will choose seven men, being myself the seventh, who shall meet the

seven that come against the gates of our city.”

Then the King departed, and the maidens made their prayer after this

fashion: “My heart feareth as a dove feareth the serpent for her young

ones, so cruelly doth the enemy come about this city to destroy it!

Shall ye find elsewhere as fair a land, ye Gods, if ye suffer this to

be laid waste, or streams as sweet? Help us then, for indeed it is a

grievous thing when men take a city; for the women, old and young, are

dragged by the hair, and the men are slain with the sword, and there

is slaughter and burning, while they that plunder cry each man to his

comrade, and the fruits of the earth are wasted upon the ground; nor is

there any hope but in death.”

And as they made an end, the King came back, and at the same time a

messenger bringing tidings of the battle, how the seven chiefs had

ranged themselves each against a gate of the city. And the man’s story

was this.

“First Tydeus, the Ætolian, standeth in great fury at the gate of

Prœtus. Very wroth is he because the soothsayer, Amphiaraüs, suffereth

him not to cross the Ismenus, for that the omens promise not victory.

A triple crest he hath, and there are bells of bronze under his shield

which ring terribly. And on his shield he hath this device: the heaven

studded with stars, and in the midst the mightiest of the stars, the

eye of night, even the moon. Whom, O King, wilt thou set against this

man?”

Then the King made reply, “I tremble not at any man’s adorning, and a

device woundeth not. And, indeed, as for the night that thou tellest

to be on his shield, haply it signifieth the night of death that shall

fall upon his eyes. Over against him will I set the son of Astacus, a

brave man and a modest. Also he is of the race of the Dragon’s Teeth,

and men call him Melanippus.”

And the messenger said, “Heaven send him good fortune! At the gate of

Electra standeth Capaneus, a man of great stature, and his boastings

are above all measure, for he crieth out that he will destroy this city

whether the Gods will or no, and that Zeus with his thunder shall not

stay him, for that the thunder is but as the sun at noon. And on his

shield he hath a man bearing a torch, and these words, ‘I WILL BURN

THIS CITY.’ Who now shall stand against this boaster and fear not?”

Then the King said, “His boastings I heed not. They shall turn to his

own destruction. For as he sendeth out swelling words against Zeus,

so shall Zeus send against him the thunder, smiting him, but not of a

truth as the sun smiteth. Him shall Polyphantus encounter, a valiant

man and dear to Queen Artemis.”

“He that is set against the gate of Neïs is called Eteoclus by name. He

driveth a chariot with four horses, in whose nostrils are pipes making

a whistling noise, after the fashion of barbarians. And on his shield

he hath this device: a man mounting a ladder that is set against a

tower upon a wall, and with it these words, ‘NOT ARES’ SELF SHALL DRIVE

ME HENCE.’ See that thou set a fit warrior against him.”

“Megarius, son of Creon, of the race of the Dragon, shall fight against

him, who will not leave the gate for any whistling noise of horses; for

either he will die as a brave man dieth for his country, or will take a

double spoil, even this boaster and him also that he beareth upon his

shield.”

“At the next gate to this, even the gate of Athené, standeth

Hippomedon. A great shield and a terrible he hath, and on it this

device, which no mean workman hath wrought: Typhon breathing out a

great blast of black smoke, and all about it serpents twined together.

And the man also is terrible as his shield, and seemeth to be inspired

of Ares. Whom wilt thou set against this man, O King?”

“First shall Pallas stand against him and drive him from this city,

even as bird driveth a snake from her young ones. And next I have set

Hyperbius, son of Œneus, to encounter him, being inferior neither in

form nor courage, nor yet in skill of arms, and also dear to Hermes.

Enemies shall they be, bearing also on their shields gods that are

enemies, for Hippomedon hath Typhon, but Hyperbius hath Zeus; and even

as Zeus prevailed over Typhon, so also shall Hyperbius prevail over

this man.”

“So be it, O King. Know also that at the north gate is set Parthenopæus

the Arcadian. Very young is he, and fair also to behold, and his mother

was the huntress Atalanta. This man sweareth by his spear, which he

holdeth to be better than all the gods whatsoever, that he will lay

waste this city. And on his shield he beareth a device, the Sphinx,

which holdeth in her claws one of the sons of Cadmus.”

“Against this Arcadian will I set Actor, brother to Hyperbius, no

boaster but a man of deeds, who will not let this hateful monster, the

Sphinx, pass thus into the city; but will rather make it ill content to

have come hither, so many and fierce blows shall he deal it.”

“Hear now of the sixth among the chiefs, the wise soothsayer,

Amphiaraüs. Ill pleased is he with these things, for against Tydeus he

uttereth many reproaches, that he is an evil counsellor to Argos and

to King Adrastus, stirring up strife and slaughter. And to thy brother

also he speaketh in like fashion, saying, ‘Is this a thing that the

Gods love, and that men shall praise in the days to come, that thou

bringest a host of strangers to lay waste the city of thy fathers?

Shall this land, if thou subduest it by the spear of the enemy, ever

make alliance with thee? As for me I shall fall in this land, for am I

not a seer? Be it so. I shall not die without honor!’ No device hath

this man on his shield, for he seeketh not to seem, but to be in very

deed most excellent. Thou must need send some wise man to stand against

him.”

“It is an ill fate that bringeth a just man into company with the

wicked. And of a truth there is not a worse thing upon the earth than

ill companionship, wherein the sowing is madness and the harvest is

death. For thus a godfearing man being on shipboard with godless

companions perisheth with them; and one that is righteous, if he dwell

in one city with the wicked, is destroyed with the same destruction.

So shall it fare with this Amphiaraüs; for though he be a good man

and righteous, and that feareth God, yet shall he perish because he

beareth these boasters company. And I think that he will not come near

to the gates, so well knoweth he what shall befall him. Yet have I set

Lasthenes to stand against him, young in years but old in counsel,

very keen of eye, and swift of hand to cast his javelin from under his

shield.”

“And now, O King, hear how thy brother beareth himself, for he it is

who standeth yonder at the seventh gate. For he crieth aloud that he

will climb upon the wall and slay thee, even though he die with thee,

or drive thee forth into banishment, even as thou, he saith, hast

driven him. And on his shield there is this device: a woman leading an

armed man, and while she leadeth him she saith, ‘I AM JUSTICE, AND I

WILL BRING BACK THIS MAN TO THE KINGDOM WHICH IS HIS OF RIGHT.’”

But when the King heard this he brake forth in much fury, “Now will

the curse of this house be fulfilled to the uttermost. Yet must I not

bewail myself, lest there should fall upon us an evil that is yet

greater than this. And as for this Polynices, thinketh he that signs

and devices will give him that which he coveteth? Thinketh he that

Justice is on his side? Nay, but from the day that he came forth from

the womb he hath had no converse with her, neither will she stand by

him this day. I will fight against him. Who more fit than I? Bring

forth my armor that I may make ready.”

And though the maidens entreated with many words that he would not do

this thing, but leave the place to some other of the chiefs, saying

that there was no healing or remedy for a brother’s blood shed in such

fashion, he would not hearken, but armed himself and went forth to the

battle. Thus ever doth the madness of men work out to the full the

curses of the Gods.

Then the battle grew fierce about the wall, and the men of Thebes

prevailed. For when Parthenopæus the Arcadian fell like a whirlwind

upon the gate that was over against him, Actor the Theban smote him

on the head with a great stone, and brake his head, so that he fell

dead upon the ground. And when Capaneus assaulted the city, crying

that not even the Gods should stay him, there came upon him the wrath

which he defied; for when he had mounted the ladder and was now about

to leap upon the battlements, Zeus smote him with the thunderbolt,

and there was no life left in him, so fierce was the burning heat of

the lightning. But the chiefest fight was between the two brothers;

and this, indeed, the two armies stood apart to see. For the two came

together in an open space before the gates; and first Polynices prayed

to Heré, for she was the goddess of the great city of Argos, which

had helped him in this enterprise, and Eteocles prayed to Pallas of

the Golden Shield, whose temple stood hard by. Then they crouched,

each covered with his shield, and holding his spear in his hand, if by

chance his enemy should give occasion to smite him; and if one showed

so much as an eye above the rim of his shield the other would strike

at him. But after a while King Eteocles slipped upon a stone that was

under his foot, and uncovered his leg, at which straightway Polynices

took aim with his spear, piercing the skin. And the men of Argos

shouted to see it. But so doing he laid his own shoulder bare, and King

Eteocles gave him a wound in the breast; and then the men of Thebes

shouted for joy. But he brake his spear in striking, and would have

fared ill but that with a great stone he smote the spear of Polynices,

and brake this also in the middle. And now were the two equal, for

each had lost his spear. So they drew their swords and came yet

closer together. But Eteocles used a device which he had learnt in the

land of Thessaly; for he drew his left foot back, as if he would have

ceased from the battle, and then of a sudden moved the right forward;

and so smiting sideways, drave his sword right through the body of

Polynices. But when, thinking that he had slain him, he set his weapons

in the earth, and began to spoil him of his arms, the other, for he

yet breathed a little, laid his hand upon his sword, and though he had

scarce strength to smite, yet gave the King a mortal blow, so that the

two lay dead together on the plain. And the men of Thebes lifted up the

bodies of the dead, and bare them both into the city.

So was the doom of the house of Œdipus accomplished; and yet not all,

as shall now be told.

CHAPTER II.

When the two brothers, the sons of King Œdipus, had fallen each by the

hand of the other, the kingdom fell to Creon their uncle. For not only

was he the next of kin to the dead, but also the people held him in

great honor because his son Menœceus had offered himself with a willing

heart that he might deliver his city from captivity. Now when Creon

was come to the throne, he made a proclamation about the two Princes,

commanding that they should bury Eteocles with all honor, seeing that

he died as beseemed a good man and a brave, doing battle for his

country, that it should not be delivered into the hands of the enemy;

but as for Polynices he bade them leave his body to be devoured by the

fowls of the air and the beasts of the field, because he had joined

himself to the enemy, and would have beaten down the walls of the

city, and burned the temples of the Gods with fire, and led the people

captive. Also he commanded that if any man should break this decree he

should suffer death by stoning.

Now Antigone, who was sister to the two Princes, heard that the decree

had gone forth, and chancing to meet her sister Ismené before the gates

of the palace, spake to her, saying, “O my sister, hast thou heard this

decree that the King hath put forth concerning our brethren that are

dead?”

Then Ismené made answer, “I have heard nothing, my sister, only that we

are bereaved of both of our brethren in one day, and that the army of

the Argives is departed in this night that is now past. So much I know,

but no more.”

“Hearken then. King Creon hath made a proclamation that they shall bury

Eteocles with all honor; but that Polynices shall lie unburied, that

the birds of the air and the beasts of the field may devour him, and

that whosoever shall break this decree shall suffer death by stoning.”

“But if it be so, my sister, how can we avail to change it?”

“Think whether or no thou wilt share with me the doing of this deed.”

“What deed? What meanest thou?”

“To pay due honor to this dead corpse.”

“What? Wilt thou bury him when the King hath forbidden it?”

“Yea, for he is my brother and also thine, though perchance thou

wouldst not have it so. And I will not play him false.”

“O my sister, wilt thou do this when Creon hath forbidden it?”

“Why should he stand between me and mine?”

“But think now what sorrows are come upon our house. For our father

perished miserably, having first put out his own eyes; and our mother

hanged herself with her own hands; and our two brothers fell in one

day, each by the other’s spear; and now we two only are left. And shall

we not fall into a worse destruction than any if we transgress these

commands of the King. Think, too, that we are women and not men, and

must of necessity obey them that are stronger. Wherefore, as for me, I

will pray the dead to pardon me, seeing that I am thus constrained; but

I will obey them that rule.”

“I advise thee not, and if thou thinkest thus I would not have thee for

helper. But know that I will bury my brother, nor could I better die

than for doing such a deed. For as he loved me, so also do I love him

greatly. And shall not I do pleasure to the dead rather than to the

living, seeing that I shall abide with the dead forever? But thou, if

thou wilt, do dishonor to the laws of the Gods.”

“I dishonor them not. Only I cannot set myself against the powers that

be.”

“So be it: but I will bury my brother.”

“O my sister, how I fear for thee!”

“Fear for thyself. Thine own lot needeth all thy care.”

“Thou wilt at least keep thy counsel, nor tell the thing to any man.”

“Not so: hide it not. I shall scorn thee more if thou proclaim it not

aloud to all.”

So Antigone departed; and after a while came to the same place King

Creon, clad in his royal robes, and with his sceptre in his hand,

and set forth his counsel to the elders who were assembled, how he

had dealt with the two Princes according to their deserving, giving

all honor to him that loved his country, and casting forth the other

unburied. And he bade them take care that this decree should be kept,

saying that he had also appointed certain men to watch the dead body.

But he had scarcely left speaking when there came one of these same

watchers and said, “I have not come hither in haste, O King; nay, I

doubted much while I was yet on the way whether I should not turn

again. For now I thought, ‘Fool, why goest thou where thou shalt

suffer for it;’ and then again, ‘Fool, the King will hear the matter

elsewhere, and then how wilt thou fare?’ But at the last I came as I

had purposed, for I know that nothing may happen to me contrary to

fate.”

“But say,” said the King, “what troubles thee so much?”

“First hear my case. I did not the thing, and know not who did it, and

it were a grievous wrong should I fall into trouble for such a cause.”

“Thou makest a long preface excusing thyself, but yet hast, as I judge,

something to tell.”

“Fear, my lord, ever causeth delay.”

“Wilt thou not speak out thy news and then begone?”

“I will speak it. Know then that some man hath thrown dust upon this

dead corpse, and done besides such things as are needful.”

“What sayest thou? Who hath dared to do this deed?”

“That I know not, for there was no mark as of spade or pickaxe; nor was

the earth broken, nor had wagon passed thereon. We were sore dismayed

when the watchman showed the thing to us; for the body we could not

see. Buried indeed it was not, but rather covered with dust. Nor was

there any sign as of wild beast or of dog that had torn it. Then there

arose a contention among us, each blaming the other, and accusing his

fellows, and himself denying that he had done the deed or was privy

to it. And doubtless we had fallen to blows but that one spake a word

which made us all tremble for fear, knowing that it must be as he said.

For he said that the thing must be told to thee, and in no wise hidden.

So we drew lots, and by evil chance the lot fell upon me. Wherefore

I am here, not willingly, for no man loveth him that bringeth ill

tidings.”

Then said the chief of the old men, “Consider, O King, for haply this

thing is from the Gods.”

But the King cried, “Thinkest thou that the Gods care for such an one

as this dead man, who would have burnt their temples with fire, and

laid waste the land which they love, and set at naught the laws? Not

so. But there are men in this city who have long time had ill will to

me, not bowing their necks to my yoke; and they have persuaded these

fellows with money to do this thing. Surely there never was so evil a

thing as money, which maketh cities into ruinous heaps, and banisheth

men from their houses, and turneth their thoughts from good unto evil.

But as for them that have done this deed for hire, of a truth they

shall not escape, for I say to thee, fellow, if ye bring not here

before my eyes the man that did this thing, I will hang you up alive.

So shall ye learn that ill gains bring no profit to a man.”

So the guard departed; but as he went he said to himself, “Now may the

Gods grant the man be found; but however this may be, thou shalt not

see me come again on such errand as this, for even now have I escaped

beyond all hope.” Notwithstanding, after a space he came back with one

of his fellows; and they brought with them the maiden Antigone, with

her hands bound together. And it chanced that at the same time King

Creon came forth from the palace. Then the guard set forth the thing

to him, saying, “We cleared away the dust from the dead body, and sat

watching it. And when it was now noon, and the sun was at his height,

there came a whirlwind over the plain, driving a great cloud of dust.

And when this had passed, we looked, and lo! this maiden whom we have

brought hither stood by the dead corpse. And when she saw that it lay

bare as before, she sent up an exceeding bitter cry, even as a bird

whose young ones have been taken from the nest. Then she cursed them

that had done this deed; and brought dust and sprinkled it upon the

dead man, and poured water upon him three times. Then we ran and laid

hold upon her, and accused her that she had done this deed; and she

denied it not. But as for me, ’tis well to have escaped from death,

but it is ill to bring friends into the same. Yet I hold that there is

nothing dearer to a man than his life.”

Then said the King to Antigone, “Tell me in a word, didst thou know my

decree?”

“I knew it. Was it not plainly declared?”

“How daredst thou to transgress the laws?”

“Zeus made not such laws, nor Justice that dwelleth with the Gods

below. I judged not that thy decrees had such authority that a man

should transgress for them the unwritten sure commandments of the Gods.

For these, indeed, are not of to-day or yesterday, but they live for

ever, and their beginning no man knoweth. Should I, for fear of thee,

be found guilty against them? That I should die I knew. Why not? All

men must die. And if I die before my time, what loss? He who liveth

among many sorrows, even as I have lived, counteth it gain to die. But

had I left my own mother’s son unburied, this had been loss indeed.”

Then said the King, “Such stubborn thoughts have a speedy fall, and

are shivered even as the iron that hath been made hard in the furnace.

And as for this woman and her sister,--for I judge her sister to have

had a part in this matter,--though they were nearer to me than all my

kindred, yet shall they not escape the doom of death. Wherefore let

some one bring the other woman hither.”

And while they went to fetch the maiden Ismené, Antigone said to the

King, “Is it not enough for thee to slay me? What need to say more? For

thy words please me not nor mine thee. Yet what nobler thing could I

have done than to bury my own mother’s son? And so would all men say

but fear shutteth their mouths.”

“Nay,” said the King, “none of the children of Cadmus thinketh thus,

but thou only. But, hold, was not he that fell in battle with this man

thy brother also?”

“Yes, truly, my brother he was.”

“And dost thou not dishonor him when thou honorest his enemy?”

“The dead man would not say it, could he speak.”

“Shall then the wicked have like honor with the good?”

“How knowest thou but that such honor pleaseth the Gods below?”

“I have no love for them I hate, though they be dead.”

“Of hating I know nothing; ’tis enough for me to love.”

“If thou wilt love, go love the dead. But while I live no woman shall

rule me.”

Then those that had been sent to fetch the maiden Ismené brought her

forth from the palace. And when the King accused her that she had been

privy to the deed, she denied not, but would have shared one lot with

her sister. But Antigone turned from her, saying, “Not so; thou hast no

part or lot in the matter. For thou hast chosen life, and I have chosen

death; and even so shall it be.” And when Ismené saw that she prevailed

nothing with her sister, she turned to the King and said, “Wilt thou

slay the bride of thy son?”

“Aye,” said he, “there are other brides to win!”

“But none,” she made reply, “that accord so well with him.”

“I will have no evil wives for my sons,” said the King.

Then cried Antigone, “O Hæmon, whom I love, how thy father wrongeth

thee!”

Then the King bade the guards lead the two into the palace. But

scarcely had they gone when there came to the palace the Prince Hæmon,

the King’s son, who was betrothed to the maiden Antigone. And when the

King saw him, he said, “Art thou content, my son, with thy father’s

judgment?”

And the young man answered, “My father, I would follow thy counsels in

all things.”

Then said the King, “’Tis well spoken, my son. This is a thing to

be desired, that a man should have obedient children. But if it be

otherwise with a man, he hath gotten great trouble for himself, and

maketh sport for them that hate him. And now as to this matter. There

is nought worse than an evil wife. Wherefore I say, let this damsel

wed a bridegroom among the dead. For since I have found her, alone of

all this people, breaking my decree, surely she shall die. Nor shall

it profit her to claim kinship with me, for he that would rule a city

must first deal justly with his own kindred. And as for obedience,

this it is that maketh a city to stand both in peace and in war!”

To this the Prince Hæmon made answer, “What thou sayest, my father,

I do not judge. Yet bethink thee, that I see and hear on thy behalf

what is hidden from thee. For common men cannot abide thy look if they

say that which pleaseth thee not. Yet do I hear it in secret. Know

then that all the city mourneth for this maiden, saying that she dieth

wrongfully for a very noble deed, in that she buried her brother. And

’tis well, my father, not to be wholly set on thy own thoughts, but

listen to the counsels of others.”

“Nay,” said the King; “shall I be taught by such an one as thou?”

“I pray thee regard my words, if they be well, and not my years.”

“Can it be well to honor them that transgress? And hath not this woman

transgressed?”

“The people of this city judgeth not so.”

“The people, sayest thou! Is it for them to rule, or for me?”

“No city is the possession of one man only.”

So the two answered one the other, and their anger waxed hot. And at

the last the King cried, “Bring this accursed woman, and slay her

before his eyes.”

And the Prince answered, “That thou shalt never do. And know this also,

that thou shalt never see my face again.”

So he went away in a rage; and the old men would have appeased the

King’s wrath, but he would not hearken to them, but said that the two

maidens should die. “Wilt thou then slay them both?” said the old men.

“’Tis well said,” the King made answer. “Her that meddled not with the

matter I harm not.”

“And how wilt thou deal with the other?”

“There is a desolate place, and there I will shut her up alive in a

sepulchre; yet giving her so much of food as shall quit us of guilt

in the matter, for I would not have the city defiled. There let her

persuade Death, whom she loveth so much, that he harm her not.”

So the guards led Antigone away to shut her up alive in the sepulchre.

But scarcely had they departed when there came the old prophet

Tiresias, seeking the King. Blind he was, so that a boy led him by the

hand; but the Gods had given him to see things to come. And when the

King saw him he asked, “What seekest thou, wisest of men?”

Then the prophet answered, “Hearken, O King, and I will tell thee. I

sat in my seat, after my custom, in the place whither all manner of

birds resort. And as I sat I heard a cry of birds that I knew not,

very strange and full of wrath. And I knew that they tare and slew

each other, for I heard the fierce flapping of their wings. And being

afraid, I made inquiry about the fire, how it burned upon the altars.

And this boy, for as I am a guide to others so he guideth me, told

me that it shone not at all, but smouldered and was dull, and that

the flesh which was burnt upon the altar spluttered in the flame, and

wasted away into corruption and filthiness. And now I tell thee, O

King, that the city is troubled by thy ill counsels. For the dogs and

the birds of the air tear the flesh of this dead son of Œdipus, whom

thou sufferest not to have due burial, and carry it to the altars,

polluting them therewith. Wherefore the Gods receive not from us prayer

or sacrifice; and the cry of the birds hath an evil sound, for they

are full of the flesh of a man. Therefore I bid thee be wise in time.

For all men may err; but he that keepeth not his folly, but repenteth,

doeth well; but stubbornness cometh to great trouble.”

Then the King answered, “Old man, I know the race of prophets full

well, how ye sell your art for gold. But, make thy trade as thou wilt,

this man shall not have burial; yea, though the eagles of Zeus carry

his flesh to their master’s throne in heaven, he shall not have it.”

And when the prophet spake again, entreating him, and warning, the

King answered him after the same fashion, that he spake not honestly,

but had sold his art for money. But at the last the prophet spake in

great wrath, saying, “Know, O King, that before many days shall pass,

thou shalt pay a life for a life, even one of thine own children, for

them with whom thou hast dealt unrighteously, shutting up the living

with the dead, and keeping the dead from them to whom they belong.

Therefore the Furies lie in wait for thee, and thou shalt see whether

or no I speak these things for money. For there shall be mourning and

lamentation in thine own house; and against thy people shall be stirred

up all the cities, whose sons thou hast made to lie unburied. And now,

my child, lead me home, and let this man rage against them that are

younger than I.”

So the prophet departed, and the old men were sore afraid, and said,

“He hath spoken terrible things, O King; nor ever since these gray

hairs were black have we known him say that which was false.”

“Even so,” said the King, “and I am troubled in heart, and yet am loath

to depart from my purpose.”

“King Creon,” said the old men, “thou needest good counsel.”

“What, then, would ye have done?”

“Set free the maiden from the sepulchre, and give this dead man burial.”

Then the King cried to his people that they should bring bars wherewith

to loosen the doors of the sepulchre, and hasted with them to the

place. But coming on their way to the body of Prince Polynices, they

took it up, and washed it, and buried that which remained of it, and

raised over the ashes a great mound of earth. And this being done, they

drew near to the place of the sepulchre; and as they approached, the

King heard within a very piteous voice, and knew it for the voice of

his son. Then he bade his attendants loose the door with all speed; and

when they had loosed it, they beheld within a very piteous sight. For

the maiden Antigone had hanged herself by the girdle of linen which

she wore, and the young man Prince Hæmon stood with his arms about her

dead corpse, embracing it. And when the King saw him, he cried to him

to come forth; but the Prince glared fiercely upon him, and answered

him not a word, but drew his two-edged sword. Then the King, thinking

that his son was minded in his madness to slay him, leapt back, but

the Prince drave the sword into his own heart, and fell forward on the

earth, still holding the dead maiden in his arms. And when they brought

the tidings of these things to Queen Eurydice, that was the wife of

King Creon and mother to the Prince, she could not endure the grief,

being thus bereaved of her children, but laid hold of a sword, and slew

herself therewith.

So the house of King Creon was left desolate unto him that day, because

he despised the ordinances of the Gods.

THE

STORY OF TROY.

CHAPTER I.

Prince Paris that was son to Priam, King of Troy, carried away the

Fair Helen, wife of Menelaüs, King of Sparta. Now all the kings and

princes of Greece had bound themselves by an oath that they would

avenge Menelaüs on any man that should rob him of his wife. But first

of all they sent ambassadors to Troy, who should demand the Fair Helen

of Priam and his people. So the ambassadors came and made their demand;

and the King himself was willing that she should be given back, and the

wisest of the princes gave like counsel. But there stood up certain

evil men, whom Paris had persuaded with his gold, and said, “Fear not,

men of Troy, to suffer Prince Paris to keep the Fair Helen for his

wife. For verily these words of the ambassadors, that the Greeks will

come with an army and fetch her away, are but idle talk. Think ye that

they will indeed journey so far and endure such trouble for the sake of

a woman? Not so. It standeth not to reason. And if indeed they come,

how shall they take the city? Were not these walls builded of gods, and

shall any man that is born of a woman avail to overthrow them?” And the

men of Troy gave ear to this counsel, and sent away the ambassadors

empty, for the Gods would destroy them.

Then King Agamemnon, that was brother to Menelaüs, being the greatest

lord in the land of Greece, gathered together an army, not without

great pains and trouble, because many of the princes were loath to

go. Thus the wise Ulysses feigned that he was mad, and, for proof of

his madness, ploughed the sand upon the sea-shore. But when a certain

counsellor of the King put his son, being an infant of a few days

old, before the plough, Ulysses turned away his plough lest he should

hurt him, and so betrayed himself. Also Thetis, that was mother to

Achilles, knowing that if her son should go to the land of Troy he

would die before his time, put upon him women’s garments and hid him in

the palace of the King of Scyros. Then Ulysses disguised himself as a

merchant and journeyed to Scyros. And when he was come into the hall of

the palace, he opened his wares, goodly robes of purple, and earrings,

and necklaces, and divers other ornaments, both of jewels and gold. And

when the maidens gathered about him, and chose such things as women

love, then of a sudden he opened another bale in which were a hand

spear, and a sword, and a shield. And when Achilles saw them, he sprang

forth and laid his hands upon them with great joy. So he also betrayed

himself.

Thus King Agamemnon at the last gathered his army of the Greeks

together, and sailed to the land of Troy. For nine years and more he

besieged the city and pressed it hard, so that they that were within

scarce dared to go without their walls. And doubtless he had taken it

without more delay, but that there arose a deadly quarrel between him

and Achilles, who was the bravest and most valiant man of all the host.

Now the strife chanced in this wise.

The Greeks, having been away from home now many years, were in great

want of things needful. Wherefore it was their custom to leave a part

of their army to watch the city, and to send a part to spoil such

towns in the country round about as they knew to be friendly to the

men of Troy, or as they thought to contain good store of provision or

treasure. “Are not all these,” they were wont to say, “towns of the

barbarians, and therefore lawful prey to men that are Greeks?” Now

among the towns with which they dealt in this fashion was Chrysa, which

was sacred to Apollo, who had a great temple therein and a priest. The

temple and the priest the Greeks, fearing the anger of the god, had

not harmed; but they had carried off with other prisoners the priest’s

daughter, Chryseïs by name. These and the rest of the spoil they

divided among the kings, of whom there were many in the army, ruling

each his own people. Now King Agamemnon, as being sovereign lord, went

not commonly with the army at such times, but rather stayed behind,

having charge of the siege that it should not be neglected. Yet did

he always receive, as indeed was fitting, a share of the spoil. This

time the Greeks gave him, with other things, the maiden Chryseïs. But

there came to the camp next day the priest Chryses, wishing to ransom

his daughter. Much gold he brought with him, and he had on his head

the priest’s crown, that all men might reverence him the more. He went

to all the chiefs, making his prayer that they would take the gold and

give him back his daughter. And they all spake him fair, and would have

done what he wished. Only Agamemnon would not have it so.

“Get thee out, graybeard!” he cried in great wrath. “Let me not find

thee lingering now by the ships, neither coming hither again, or it

shall be the worse for thee, for all thy priesthood. And as for thy

daughter, I shall carry her away to Argos, when I shall have taken this

city of Troy.”

Then the old man went out hastily in great fear and trouble. And he

walked in his sorrow by the shore of the sounding sea, and prayed to

his god Apollo.

“Hear me, God of the silver bow. If I have built thee a temple, and

offered thee the fat of many bullocks and rams, hear me, and avenge me

on these Greeks!”

And Apollo heard him. Wroth he was that men had so dishonored his

priest, and he came down from the top of Olympus, where he dwelt.

Dreadful was the rattle of his arrows as he went, and his presence was

as the night coming over the sky. Then he shot the arrows of death,

first on the dogs and the mules, and then on the men; and soon all

along the shore rolled the black smoke from the piles of wood on which

they burnt the bodies of the dead.

On the tenth day Achilles, who was the bravest and strongest of all

the Greeks, called the people to an assembly. When they were gathered

together he stood up among them and spake to Agamemnon.

“Surely it were better to return home, than that we should all perish

here by the plague. But come, let us ask some prophet, or priest, or

dreamer of dreams, why it is that Apollo is so wroth with us.”

Then stood up Calchas, best of seers, who knew what had been, and what

was, and what was to come, and spake.

“Achilles, thou biddest me tell the people why Apollo is wroth with

them. Lo! I tell thee, but thou must first swear to stand by me, for I

know that what I shall say will anger King Agamemnon, and it goes ill

with common men when kings are angry.”

“Speak out, thou wise man!” cried Achilles; “for I swear by Apollo that

while I live no one shall lay hands on thee, no, not Agamemnon’s self,

though he be sovereign lord of the Greeks.”

Then the prophet took heart and spake. “It is on behalf of his priest

that Apollo is wroth, for he came to ransom his daughter, but Agamemnon

would not let the maiden go. Now, then, ye must send her back to Chrysa

without ransom, and with her a hundred beasts for sacrifice, so that

the plague may be stayed.”

Then Agamemnon stood up in a fury, his eyes blazing like fire.

“Never,” he cried, “hast thou spoken good concerning me, ill prophet

that thou art, and now thou tellest me to give up this maiden! I will

do it, for I would not that the people should perish. Only take care,

ye Greeks, that there be a share of the spoil for me, for it would ill

beseem the lord of all the host that he alone should be without his

share.”

“Nay, my lord Agamemnon,” cried Achilles, “thou art too eager for gain.

We have no treasures out of which we may make up thy loss, for what we

got out of the towns we have either sold or divided; nor would it be

fitting that the people should give back what has been given to them.

Give up the maiden, then, without conditions, and when we shall have

taken this city of Troy, we will repay thee three and four fold.”

“Nay, great Achilles,” said Agamemnon, “thou shalt not cheat me thus.

If the Greeks will give me such a share as I should have, well and

good. But if not, I will take one for myself, whether it be from thee,

or from Ajax, or from Ulysses; for my share I will have. But of this

hereafter. Now let us see that this maiden be sent back. Let them get

ready a ship, and put her therein, and with her a hundred victims, and

let some chief go with the ship, and see that all things be rightly

done.”

Then cried Achilles, and his face was black as a thunder-storm, “Surely

thou art altogether shameless and greedy, and, in truth, an ill ruler

of men. No quarrel have I with the Trojans. They never harried oxen

or sheep of mine. But I have been fighting in thy cause, and that of

thy brother Menalaüs. Naught carest thou for that. Thou leavest me to

fight, and sittest in thy tent at ease. But when the spoil is divided,

thine is always the lion’s share. Small indeed is my part--’a little

thing, but dear.’ And this, forsooth, thou wilt take away! Now am I

resolved to go home. Small booty wilt thou get then, methinks!”

And King Agamemnon answered, “Go, and thy Myrmidons with thee! I have

other chieftains as good as thou art, and ready, as thou art not, to

pay me due respect. I hate thee, with thy savage, bloodthirsty ways.

And as for the matter of the spoil, know that I will take thy share,

the girl Briseïs, and fetch her myself, if need be, that all may know

that I am sovereign lord here in the host of the Greeks.”

Then Achilles was mad with anger, and he thought in his heart, “Shall

I arise and slay this caitiff, or shall I keep down the wrath in my

breast?” And as he thought he laid his hand on his sword-hilt, and had

half drawn his sword from the scabbard, when lo! the goddess Athené

stood behind him (for Heré, who loved both this chieftain and that,

had sent her), and caught him by the long locks of his yellow hair.

But Achilles marvelled much to feel the mighty grasp, and turned, and

looked, and knew the goddess, but no one else in the assembly might see

her. Then his eyes flashed with fire, and he cried, “Art thou come,

child of Zeus, to see the insolence of Agamemnon? Of a truth, I think

that he will perish for his folly.”

But Athené said, “Nay, but I am come to stay thy wrath. Use bitter

words, if thou wilt, but put up thy sword in its sheath, and strike him

not. Of a truth, I tell thee that for this insolence of to-day he will

bring thee hereafter splendid gifts, threefold and fourfold for all

that he may take away.”

Then Achilles answered, “I shall abide by thy command, for it is ever

better for a man to obey the immortal gods.” And as he spake he laid

his heavy hand upon the hilt, and thrust back the sword into the

scabbard, and Athené went her way to Olympus.

Then he turned him to King Agamemnon, and spake again. “Drunkard, with

the eyes of a dog and the heart of a deer! never fighting in the front

of the battle, nor daring to lie in the ambush! ’Tis a puny race thou

rulest, or this had been thy last wrong. And as for me, here is this

sceptre: once it was the branch of a tree, but a cunning craftsman

bound it with bronze to be the sign of the lordship which Zeus gives to

kings; as surely as it shall never again have bark or leaves or shoot,

so surely shall the Greeks one day miss Achilles, when they fall in

heaps before the dreadful Hector, and thou shalt eat thy heart to think

that thou hast wronged the bravest of thy host.”

And as he spake he dashed his sceptre on the ground and sat down. And

on the other side Agamemnon sat in furious anger. Then Nestor rose,

an old man of a hundred years and more, and counselled peace. Let

them listen, he said, to his counsel. Great chiefs in the old days,

with whom no man now alive would dare to fight, had listened. Let not

Agamemnon take away from the bravest of the Greeks the prize of war;

let not Achilles, though he was mightier in battle than all other men,

contend with Agamemnon, who was sovereign lord of all the hosts of

Greece. But he spake in vain. For Agamemnon answered,--

“Nestor, thou speakest well, and peace is good. But this fellow would

lord it over all, and he must be taught that there is one here, at

least, who is better than he.”

And Achilles said, “I were a slave and a coward if I owned thee as my

lord. Not so: play the master over others, but think not to master me.

As for the prize which the Greeks gave me, let them do as they will.

They gave it; let them take it away. But if thou darest to touch aught

that is mine own, that hour thy life-blood shall redden on my spear.”

Then the assembly was dismissed. Chryseïs was sent to her home with

due offerings to the god, the wise Ulysses going with her. And all the

people purified themselves, and the plague was stayed.

But King Agamemnon would not go back from his purpose. So he called to

him the heralds, Talthybius and Eurybates, and said,--

“Heralds, go to the tents of Achilles and fetch the maiden Briseïs. But

if he will not let her go, say that I will come myself with many others

to fetch her; so will it be the worse for him.”

Sorely against their will the heralds went. Along the sea-shore they

walked, till they came to where, amidst the Myrmidons, were the tents

of Achilles. There they found him sitting, but stood silent in awe and

fear. But Achilles spied them, and cried aloud, “Come near, ye heralds,

messengers of gods and men. ’Tis no fault of yours that ye are come on

such an errand.”

Then he turned to Patroclus (now Patroclus was his dearest friend) and

said, “Bring the maiden from her tent, and let the heralds lead her

away. But let them be witnesses before gods and men, and before this

evil-minded king, against the day when he shall have sore need of me to

save his host from destruction. Fool that he is, who thinks not of the

past nor of the future, that his people may be safe!”

Then Patroclus brought forth the maiden from her tent and gave her to

the heralds. And they led her away, but it was sorely against her will

that she went. But Achilles went apart from his comrades and sat upon

the sea-shore, falling into a great passion of tears, and stretching

out his hands with loud prayer to his mother, who indeed was a goddess

of the sea, Thetis by name. She heard him where she sat in the depths

by her father, the old god of the sea, and rose--you would have thought

it a mist rising--from the waves, and came to where he sat weeping, and

stroked him with her hand and called him by his name.

“What ails thee, my son?” she said.

Then he told her the story of his wrong, and when he had ended he

said,--

“Go, I pray thee, to the top of Olympus, to the palace of Zeus. Often

have I heard thee boast how, long ago, thou didst help him when the

other gods would have bound him, fetching Briareus of the hundred

hands, who sat by him in his strength, so that the gods feared to touch

him. Go now and call these things to his mind, and pray him that he

help the sons of Troy and give them victory in the battle, so that the

Greeks, as they flee before them, may have joy of this king of theirs,

who has done such wrong to the bravest of his host.”

And his mother answered him, “Surely thine is an evil lot, my son! Thy

life is short, and it should of right be without tears and full of joy;

but now it seems to me to be both short and sad. But I will go as thou

sayest to Olympus, to the palace of Zeus, but not now, for he has gone,

and the other gods with him, to a twelve days’ feast with the pious

Ethiopians. But when he comes back I will entreat and persuade him. And

do thou sit still, nor go forth to battle.”

When the twelve days were past Thetis went to the top of Olympus, to

the palace of Zeus, and made her prayer to him. He was loath to grant

it, for he knew it would anger his wife, Heré who loved the Greeks and

hated the sons of Troy. Yet he could not refuse her, but promised that

it should be as she wished. And to make his word the surer, he nodded

his awful head, and with the nod all Olympus was shaken.

That night Zeus took counsel with himself how he might best work his

will. And he called to him a dream, and said, “Dream, go to the tent of

Agamemnon, and tell him to set his army in array against Troy, for that

the gods are now of one mind, and the day of doom is come for the city,

so that he shall take it, and gain eternal glory for himself.”

So the dream went to the tent of Agamemnon, and it took the shape of

Nestor, the old chief, whom the king honored more than all beside.

Then the false Nestor spake: “Sleepest thou, Agamemnon? It is not for

kings to sleep all through the night, for they must take thought for

many, and have many cares. Listen now to the words of Zeus: ‘Set the

battle in array against Troy, for the gods are now of one mind, and

the day of doom is come for the city, and thou shall take it, and gain

eternal glory for thyself.’”

And Agamemnon believed the dream, and knew not the purpose of Zeus

in bidding him go forth to battle, how that the Trojans should win

the day, and great shame should come to himself, but great honor to

Achilles, when all the Greeks should pray him to deliver them from

death. So he rose from his bed and donned his tunic, and over it a

great cloak, and fastened the sandals on his feet, and hung from his

shoulders his mighty silver-studded sword, and took in his right hand

the great sceptre of his house, which was the token of his sovereignty

over all the Greeks. Then he went forth, and first took counsel with

the chiefs, and afterwards called the people to the assembly. And after

the assembly the shrill-voiced heralds called the host to the battle.

As is the flare of a great fire when a wood is burning on a hill-top,

so was the flash of their arms and their armor as they thronged to the

field. And as the countless flocks of wild geese or cranes or swans now

wheel and now settle in the great Asian fen by the stream of Caÿster,

or as the bees swarm in the spring, when the milk-pails are full, so

thick the Greeks thronged to the battle in the great plain by the banks

of the Scamander. Many nations were there, and many chiefs. But the

most famous among them were these: Agamemnon, King of Mycenæ, and his

brother, the yellow-haired Menelaüs, King of Sparta, and husband of the

beautiful Helen; Ajax Oïleus, or, as men called him, the lesser Ajax,

King of the Locri, swiftest of foot among the Greeks after the great

Achilles; Ajax Telamon, from Salamis; Diomed, son of Tydeus, King of

Argos, and with him Sthenelus; Nestor, King of Pylos, oldest and wisest

among the Greeks; Ulysses, King of Ithaca, than whom there was no one

more crafty in counsel; Idomeneus, grandson of the great judge Minos,

King of Crete, and with him Meriones; Tlepolemus, son of Hercules,

from Rhodes; Eumelus from Pheræ, son of that Alcestis who died for her

husband and was brought back from death by Hercules. All these were

there that day, and many more; and the bravest and strongest of all was

Ajax, son of Telamon, and the best horses were the horses of Eumelus;

but there was none that could compare with Achilles and the horses of

Achilles, bravest man and swiftest steeds. Only Achilles sat apart, and

would not go to the battle.

And on the other side the sons of Troy and their allies came forth from

the gates of the city and set themselves in array. The most famous of

their chiefs were these: Hector, son of King Priam, bravest and best

of all; Æneas, son of Anchises and the goddess Aphrodité; Pandarus,

from Mount Ida, with the bow which Apollo gave him; Asius, the son

of Hyrtacus, who came from the broad salt river, the Hellespont;

Pylæmenes, King of Paphlagonia; and Sarpedon from Lycia, whom men

affirmed to be the son of Zeus himself, and with him Glaucus.

So the battle was set in array, and the two hosts stood over against

each other.

They were now about to fight, when from the ranks of the Trojans Paris

rushed forth. He had a panther’s skin over his shoulders, and a bow and

a sword, and in either hand a spear, and he called aloud to the Greeks

that they should send forth their bravest to fight with him. But when

Menelaüs saw him he was glad, for he said that now he should avenge

himself on the man who had done him such wrong. So a lion is glad when,

being sorely hungered, he finds a stag or a wild goat; he devours it,

and will not be driven from it by dogs or hunters. He leapt from his

chariot and rushed to meet his enemy; but Paris, having done evil, and

being therefore a coward in his heart, was afraid when he saw Menelaüs,

and fled back into the ranks of his comrades, just as a man steps back

in haste when unawares in a mountain glen he comes upon a snake. But

Hector saw him and rebuked him. “Fair art thou to look upon, Paris,

but nothing worth. Surely the Greeks will scorn us if they think that

thou art our bravest warrior, because thou art of stately presence. But

thou art a coward; and yet thou daredst to go across the sea and carry

off the fair Helen. Why dost thou not stand and abide the onset of her

husband, and see what manner of man he is? Little, I ween, would thy

harp and thy long locks and thy fair face avail when thou wert lying in

the dust! A craven race are the sons of Troy, or they would have stoned

thee ere this.”

Then Paris answered, “Thou speakest well, Hector, and thy rebuke is

just. As for thee, thy heart is like iron, ever set on battle; yet are

beauty and love also the gifts of the gods, and not to be despised. But

now set Menelaüs and me in the midst, and let us fight, man to man, for

the fair Helen and for all her possessions. And if he prevail over me,

let him take her and them and depart, and the Greeks with him, but ye

shall dwell in peace; but if I prevail they shall depart without her.”

Then Hector was glad, and going before the Trojan ranks, holding his

spear by the middle, he kept them back. But the Greeks would have

thrown spears and stones at him, only Agamemnon cried aloud and said,

“Hold: Hector has somewhat to say to us.”

Then Hector said, “Hear, Trojans and Greeks, what Paris saith: Let all

besides lay their arms upon the ground, and let Menelaüs and me fight

for the fair Helen and all her wealth. And let him that is the better

keep her and them, but the rest shall dwell in peace.”

Then Menelaüs said, “The word pleaseth me well; let us fight together,

and let us make agreement with oath and sacrifice. And because the sons

of Priam are men of fraud and violence, let Priam himself come.”

So they sent a herald to King Priam, but he sat on the wall with the

old men. And as they talked, the fair Helen came near, and they said,

“What wonder that men should suffer much for such a woman, for indeed

she is divinely fair. Yet let her depart in the ships, nor bring a

curse on us and our children.”

But Priam called to her, “Come near, my daughter; tell me about these

old friends of thine. For ’tis not thou, ’tis the gods who have brought

about all this trouble. But tell me, who is this warrior that I see, so

fair and strong? There are others even a head taller than he, but none

of such majesty.”

And Helen answered, “Ah, my father! would that I had died before I left

husband and child to follow thy son. But as for this warrior, he is

Agamemnon, a good king and brave soldier, and my brother-in-law in the

old days.”

“Happy Agamemnon,” said Priam, “to rule over so many! Never saw I such

an army gathered together, not even when I went to help the Phrygians

when they were assembled on the banks of the Sangarus against the

Amazons. But who is this that I see, not so tall as Agamemnon, but of

broader shoulders? His arms lie upon the ground, and he is walking

through the ranks of his men just as some great ram walks through a

flock of sheep.”

“This,” said Helen, “is Ulysses of Ithaca, who is better in craft and

counsel than all other men.”

“’Tis well spoken, lady,” said Antenor. “Well I remember Ulysses when

he came hither on an embassy about thee with the brave Menelaüs. My

guests they were, and I knew them well. And I remember how, in the

assembly of the Trojans, when both were standing, Menelaüs was the

taller, but when they sat, Ulysses was the more majestic to behold. And

when they rose to speak, Menelaüs said few words, but said them wisely

and well; and Ulysses--you had thought him a fool, so stiffly he held

his sceptre and so downcast were his eyes; but as soon as he began, oh!

the mighty voice, and the words thick as the falling snow!”

Then Priam said, “Who is that stalwart hero, so tall and strong,

overtopping all by head and shoulders?”

“That,” said Helen, “is mighty Ajax, the bulwark of the Greeks. And

next to him is Idomeneus. Often has Menelaüs had him as his guest in

the old days, when he came from Crete. As for the other chiefs, I see

and could name them all. But I miss my own dear brothers, Castor, tamer

of horses, and Pollux, the mighty boxer. Either they came not from

Sparta, or, having come, shun the meeting of men for shame of me.”

So she spake, and knew not that they were sleeping their last sleep far

away in their dear fatherland. And when they had ended talking, the

heralds came and told King Priam how that the armies called for him. So

he went, and Antenor with him. And he on the one side, for the Trojans,

and King Agamemnon for the Greeks, made a covenant with sacrifice that

Paris and Menelaüs should fight together, and that the fair Helen,

with all her treasures, should go with him who should prevail. And

afterwards Hector and Ulysses marked out a space for the fight, and

Hector shook two pebbles in a helmet, looking away as he shook them,

that he whose pebble leapt forth the first should be the first to throw

his spear. And it so befell that the lot of Paris leapt forth first.

Then the two warriors armed themselves and came forth into the space,

and stood over against each other, brandishing their spears, with hate

in their eyes. Then Paris threw his spear. It struck the shield of

Menelaüs, but pierced it not, for the spear-point was bent back. Then

Menelaüs prayed to Zeus, “Grant, father Zeus, that I may avenge myself

on Paris, who has done me this wrong: so shall men in after time fear

to do wrong to their host.” So speaking, he cast his long-shafted

spear. It struck the shield of Paris and pierced it through, and passed

through the corselet, and through the tunic, close to the loin; but

Paris shrank aside, and the spear wounded him not. Then Menelaüs drew

his silver-studded sword and struck a mighty blow on the top of the

helmet of Paris, but the sword broke in four pieces in his hand. Then

he cried in his wrath, “O Zeus, most mischief-loving of the gods, my

spear I cast in vain, and now my sword is broken.” Then he rushed

forward and seized Paris by the helmet, and dragged him towards the

host of the Greeks. And truly he had taken him, but Aphrodité loosed

the strap that was beneath the chin, and the helmet came off in his

hand. And Menelaüs whirled it among the Greeks and charged with another

spear in his hand. But Aphrodité snatched Paris away, covering him with

a mist, and put him down in his chamber in Troy. Then Menelaüs looked

for him everywhere, but no one could tell him where he might be. No son

of Troy would have hidden him out of kindness, for all hated him as

death.

Then King Agamemnon said, “Now, ye sons of Troy, it is for you to give

back the fair Helen and her wealth, and to pay me besides so much as

may be fitting for all my cost and trouble.”

But it was not the will of the gods that the sons of Troy should

do this thing, but rather that their city should perish. So Athené

took upon herself the shape of Laodocus, son of Antenor, and went

to Pandarus, son of Lycaon, where he stood among his men. Then the

false Laodocus said, “Pandarus, darest thou aim an arrow at Menelaüs?

Truly the Trojans would love thee well, and Paris best of all, if

they could see Menelaüs slain by an arrow from thy bow. Aim then, but

first pray to Apollo, and vow that thou wilt offer a hundred beasts

when thou returnest to thy city, Zeleia.” Now Pandarus had a bow made

of the horns of a wild goat which he had slain; sixteen palms long

they were, and a cunning workman had made them smooth, and put a tip

of gold whereon to fasten the bowstring. And Pandarus strung his bow,

his comrades hiding him with their shields. Then he took an arrow from

his quiver, and laid it on the bow-string, and drew the string to his

breast, till the arrow-head touched the bow, and let fly. Right well

aimed was the dart, but it was not the will of heaven that it should

slay Menelaüs. It struck him, indeed, and passed through the belt and

through the corselet and through the girdle, and pierced the skin.

Then the red blood rushed out and stained the white skin, even as some

Lycian or Carian woman stains the white ivory with red to adorn the

war-horse of a king.

Sore dismayed was King Agamemnon to see the blood; sore dismayed also

was the brave Menelaüs till he spied the barb of the arrow, and knew

that the wound was not deep. But Agamemnon cried,--

“It was in an evil hour for thee, my brother, that I made a covenant

with these false sons of Troy. Right well, indeed, I know that oath

and sacrifice are not in vain, but will have vengeance at the last.

Troy shall fall; but woe is me if thou shouldst die, Menelaüs. For

the Greeks will straight go back to their fatherland, and the fair

Helen will be left a boast to the sons of Troy, and I shall have great

shame when one of them shall say, as he leaps on the tomb of the brave

Menelaüs, ‘Surely the great Agamemnon has avenged himself well; for

he brought an army hither, but now is gone back to his home, but left

Menelaüs here.’ May the earth swallow me up before that day!”

“Nay,” said Menelaüs, “fear not, for the arrow has but grazed the skin.”

Then King Agamemnon bade fetch the physician. So the herald fetched

Machaon, the physician. And Machaon came, and drew forth the arrow, and

when he had wiped away the blood he put healing drugs upon the wound,

which Chiron, the wise healer, had given to his father.