Part 48

But it was of no use that he talked so kindly and tried to encourage his sister, because he was not able to make her arms and her body stronger; so by and by poor Helle fell off, just as they were flying over a narrow part of the sea, and she fell into it and was drowned. And the people called the part of the sea where she fell in, the Hellespont, which means the sea of little Helle.

So Phrixos was left alone on the ram's back; and the ram flew on and on a long way, till it came to the palace of Aietes, the King of Kolchis. And King Aietes was walking about in his garden, when he looked up into the sky, and saw something which looked very like a yellow sheep with a little boy on its back. And King Aietes was greatly amazed, for he had never seen so strange a thing before, and he called his wife and his children, and everyone else that was in his house, to come and see this wonderful sight. And they looked, and saw the ram coming nearer and nearer, and then they knew that it really was a boy on its back; and by and by the ram came down upon the earth near their feet, and Phrixos got off its back. Then King Aietes went up to him, and took him by the hand, and asked him who he was, and he said, "Tell me, little boy, how it is that you come here, riding in this strange way on the back of a ram." Then Phrixos told him the ram had come into the field where he and Helle were playing, and had carried them away from Ino and Athamas, who were very unkind to them, and how little Helle had grown tired, and fallen off his back, and had been drowned in the sea. Then King Aietes took Phrixos up in his arms, and said, "Do not be afraid; I will take care of you and give you all that you want, and no one shall hurt you here; and the ram which has carried you through the air shall stay in this beautiful place, where he will have as much grass to eat as he can possibly want, and a stream to drink out of and to bathe in whenever he likes."

So Phrixos was taken into the palace of King Aietes, and everybody loved him, because he was good and kind, and never hurt anyone. And he grew up healthy and strong, and he learned to ride about the country and to leap and run over the hills and valleys, and swim about in the clear rivers. He had not forgotten his sister Helle, for he loved her still as much as ever, and very often he wished that she could come and live with him again, but he knew that she was with his mother, Nephele, in the happy land to which good people go after they are dead. And therefore he was never unhappy when he thought of his sister, for he said, "One day I, too, shall be taken to that bright land, and live with my mother and my sister again, if I try always to do what is right." And very often he used to go and see the beautiful ram with the golden fleece feeding in the garden, and stroke its golden locks.

But the ram was not so strong now as he was when he flew through the air with Phrixos and Helle on his hack, for he was growing old and weak, and at last the ram died, and Phrixos was very sorry. And King Aietes had the golden fleece taken off from the body, and they nailed it up upon the wall, and every one came to look at the fleece which was made of gold, and to hear the story of Phrixos and Helle.

But all this while Athamas and Ino had been hunting about everywhere, to see if they could find out where the ram had gone with the children on his back; and they asked every one whom they met, if they had seen a sheep with a fleece of gold carrying away two children. But no one could tell anything about it, till at last they came to the house of Aietes, the King of Kolchis. And they came to the door, and asked Aietes if he had seen Phrixos and Helle, and the sheep with the golden fleece. Then Aietes said to them, "I have never seen little Helle, for she fell off from the ram's back, and was drowned in the sea, but Phrixos is with me still, and as for the ram, see here is his golden fleece nailed up upon the wall." And just then Phrixos happened to come in, and Aietes asked them, "Look, now, and tell me if this is the Phrixos whom you are seeking." And when they saw him, they said, "It is indeed the same Phrixos who went away on the ram's back, but he is grown into a great man;" and they began to be afraid, because they thought they could not now ill-treat Phrixos, as they used to do when he was a little boy. So they tried to entice him away by pretending to be glad to see him, and they said, "Come away with us, and we shall live happily together." But Phrixos saw from the look of their faces that they were not telling the truth, and that they hated him still, and he said to them, "I will not go with you; King Aietes has been very good to me, and you were always unkind to me and to my sister, and therefore I will never leave King Aietes to go away with you." Then they said to Aietes, "Phrixos may stay here, but give us the golden fleece which came from the ram that carried away the children." But the King said, "I will not--I know that you only ask for it because you wish to sell it, and therefore you shall not have it."

Then Ino and Athamas turned away in a rage, and went to their own country again, wretched and unhappy because they could not get the golden fleece. And they told every one that the fleece of the ram was in the palace of the King of Kolchis, and they tried to persuade every one to go in a great ship and take away the fleece by force. So a great many people came, and they all got into a large ship called the Argo, and they sailed and sailed, until at last they came to Kolchis. Then they sent some one to ask Aietes to give them the golden fleece, but he would not, and they would never have found the fleece again, if the wise maiden, Medeia, had not shown Iason how he might outdo the bidding of King Aietes. But when Iason had won the prize and they had sailed back again to their own land, the fleece was not given to Athamas and Ino. The other people took it, for they said, "It is quite right that we should have it, to make up for all our trouble in helping to get it." So, with all their greediness, these wretched people remained as poor and as miserable as ever.

MEDEIA.

Far away in the Kolchian land, where her father, Aietes, was King, the wise maiden, Medeia, saw and loved Iason, who had come in the ship, Argo, to search for the golden fleece. To her Zeus had given a wise and cunning heart, and she had power over the hidden things of the earth, and nothing in the broad sea could withstand her might. She had spells to tame the monsters which vex the children of men, and to bring back youth to the wrinkled face and the tottering limbs of the old. But the spells of Eros were mightier still, and the wise maiden forgot her cunning as she looked on the fair countenance of Iason, and she said within herself that she would make him conqueror in his struggle for the golden fleece, and go with him to be his wife in the far-off western land. So King Aietes brought up in vain the fire-breathing bulls that they might scorch Iason as he plowed the land with the dragon's teeth, and in vain from these teeth sprang up the harvest of armed men ready for strife and bloodshed. For Medeia had anointed the body of Iason with ointment, so that the fiery breath of the bulls hurt him not; and by her bidding he cast a stone among the armed men, and they fought with one another for the stone till all lay dead upon the ground. Still King Aietes would not give to him the golden fleece, and the heart of Iason was cast down till Medeia came to him and bade him follow her. Then she led him to a hidden dell where the dragon guarded the fleece, and she laid her spells on the monster and brought a heavy sleep upon his eye, while Iason took the fleece and hastened to carry it on board the ship Argo.

So Medeia left her father's house, and wandered with Iason into many lands--to Iolkos, to Athens, and to Argos. And wherever she went, men marveled at her for her wisdom and her beauty, but as they looked on her fair face and listened to her gentle voice, they knew not the power of the maiden's wrath if any one should do her wrong. So she dwelt at Iolkos, in the house of Pelias, who had sent forth Iason to look for the golden fleece, that he might not be King in his stead, and the daughters of Pelias loved the beautiful Medeia, for they dreamed not that she had sworn to avenge on Pelias the wrong which he had done to Iason. Craftily she told the daughters of Pelias of the power of her spells, which could tame the fire-breathing bulls, and lull the dragon to sleep, and bring back the brightness of youth to the withered cheeks of the old. And the daughters of Pelias said to her, "Our father is old, and his limbs are weak and tottering, show us how once more he can be made young." Then Medeia took a ram and cut it up, and put its limbs into a caldron, and when she had boiled them on the hearth there came forth a lamb, and she said, "So shall your father be brought back again to youth and strength, if ye will do to him as I have done to the ram, and when the time is come, I will speak the words of my spell, and the change shall be accomplished." So the daughters of Pelias followed her counsel, and put the body of their father into the caldron, and, as it boiled on the hearth, Medeia said, "I must go up to the house-top and look forth on the broad heaven, that I may know the time to speak the words of my charm." And the fire waxed fiercer and fiercer, but Medeia gazed on at the bright stars, and came not down from the house-top till the limbs of Pelias were consumed away.

[Illustration: POLYHYMNIA (_Muse Of Rhetoric and Eloquence_).]

Then a look of fierce hatred passed over her face, and she said, "Daughters of Pelias, ye have slain your father, and I go with Iason to the land of Argos." So thither she sped with him in her dragon chariot, which bore them to the house of King Kreon.

Long time she abode in Argos, rejoicing in the love of Iason and at the sight of her children, who were growing up in strength and beauty. But Iason cared less and less for the wise and cunning Medeia, and he loved more to look on Glauke, the daughter of the King, till at last he longed to be free from the love and the power of Medeia.

Then men talked in Argos of the love of Iason for the beautiful Glauke, and Medeia heard how he was going to wed another wife. Once more her face grew dark with anger, as when she left the daughters of Pelias mourning for their father, and she vowed a vow that Iason should repent of his great treachery. But she hid her anger within her heart, and her eye was bright and her voice was soft and gentle as she spake to Iason and said, "They tell me that thou art to wed the daughter of Kreon; I had not thought thus to lose the love for which I left my father's house and came with thee to the land of strangers. Yet do I chide thee not, for it may be that thou canst not love the wise Kolchian maid like the soft daughters of the Argive land, and yet thou knowest not altogether how I have loved thee. Go, then, and dwell with Glauke, and I will send her a bright gift, so that thou mayest not forget the days that are past."

So Iason went away, well pleased that Medeia had spoken to him gently and upbraided him not, and presently his children came after him to the house of Kreon, and said, "Father, we have brought a wreath for Glauke, and a robe which Helios gave to our mother, Medeia, before she came away with thee from the house of her father." Then Glauke came forth eagerly to take the gifts, and she placed the glittering wreath on her head, and wrapped the robe round her slender form. Like a happy child, she looked into a mirror to watch the sparkling of the jewels on her fair forehead, and sat down on the couch playing with the folds of the robe of Helios. But soon a look of pain passed over her face, and her eyes shone with a fiery light as she lifted her hand to take the wreath away, but the will of Medeia was accomplished, for the poison had eaten into her veins, and the robe clung with a deadly grasp to her scorched and wasted limbs. Through the wide halls rang the screams of her agony, as Kreon clasped his child in his arms. Then sped the poison through his veins also, and Kreon died with Glauke.

Then Medeia went with her children to the house-top, and looked up to the blue heaven, and stretching forth her arms, she said, "O Helios, who didst give to me the wise and cunning heart, I have avenged me on Iason, even as once I avenged him on Pelias. Thou hast given me thy power; yet, it may be, I would rather have the life-long love of the helpless daughters of men."

Presently her dragon chariot rose into the sky, and the people of Argos saw the mighty Medeia no more.

THESEUS.

Many a long year ago a little child was playing on the white sand of the Bay of Troizen. His golden locks streamed in the breeze as he ran amongst the rippling waves which flung themselves lazily on the beach. Sometimes he clapped his hands in glee as the water washed over his feet, and he stopped again to look with wondering eyes at the strange things which were basking on the sunny shore, or gazed on the mighty waters which stretched away bright as a sapphire stone into the far distance. But presently some sadder thoughts troubled the child, for the look of gladness passed away from his face, and he went slowly to his mother, who sat among the weed-grown rocks, watching her child play.

"Mother," said the boy, "I am very happy here, but may I not know to-day why I never see my father as other children do? I am not now so very young, and I think that you feel sometimes lonely, for your face looks sad and sorrowful, as if you were grieving for some one who is gone away."

Fondly and proudly the mother looked on her boy, and smoothed the golden locks on his forehead, as she said, "My child, there is much to make us happy, and it may be that many days of gladness are in store for us both. But there is labor and toil for all, and many a hard task awaits thee, my son. Only have a brave heart, and turn away from all things mean and foul, and strength will be given thee to conquer the strongest enemy. Sit down, then, here by my side, and I will tell thee a tale which may make thee sad, but which must not make thee unhappy, for none can do good to others who waste their lives in weeping. Many summers have come and gone since the day when a stranger drew nigh to the house of my father, Pittheus. The pale light of evening was fading from the sky, but we could see, by his countenance and the strength of his stalwart form, that he was come of a noble race and could do brave deeds. When Pittheus went forth from the threshold to meet him, the stranger grasped his hand, and said, 'I come to claim the rights of our ancient friendship, for our enemies have grown too mighty for us, and Pandion, my father, rules no more in Athens. Here, then, let me tarry till I can find a way to punish the men who have driven away their King and made his children wanderers on the earth.' So Aigeus sojourned in my father's house, and soon he won my love, and I became his wife. Swiftly and happily the days went by, and one thing only troubled me, and this was the thought that one day he must leave me, to fight with his enemies and place his father again upon his throne. But even this thought was forgotten for awhile, when Aigeus looked on thee for the first time, and, stretching forth his hands towards heaven, said, 'O Zeus, that dwellest in the dark cloud, look down on my child, and give him strength that he may be a better man than his father, and if thou orderest that his life shall be one of toil, still let him have the joy which is the lot of all who do their work with a cheerful heart and keep their hands from all defiling things.' Then the days passed by more quickly and happily than ever, but at last there came the messengers from Athens, to tell him that the enemies of Pandion were at strife among themselves, and that the time was come that Aigeus should fight for his father's house. Not many days after this we sat here, watching thee at play among the weeds and flowers that climb among the rocks, when thy father put his arms gently round me, and said, 'Aithra, best gift of all that the gods have ever given to me, I leave thee to go to my own land, and I know not what things may befall me there, nor whether I may return hither to take thee to dwell with me at Athens. But forget not the days that are gone, and faint not for lack of hope that we may meet again in the days that are coming. Be a brave mother to our child, that so he, too, may grow up brave and pure, and when he is old enough to know what he must do, tell him that he is born of a noble race, and that he must one day fight stoutly to win the heritage of his fathers.' And now, my son, thou seest yonder rock, over which the wild briars have clambered. No hands have moved it since the day when thy father lifted it up and placed beneath it his sword and his sandals. Then he put back the stone as it was before, and said to me, 'When thou thinkest fit, tell our child that he must wait until he is able to lift this stone. Then must he put my sandals on his feet, and gird my sword on his side, and journey to the city of his forefathers.' From that day, my child, I have never seen thy father's face, and the time is often weary, although the memory of the old days is sweet and my child is by my side to cheer me with his love. So now thou knowest something of the task that lies before thee. Think of thy father's words, and make thyself ready for the toil and danger that may fall to thy lot in time to come."

[Illustration: SPHINX OF EGYPT.]

The boy looked wistfully into his mother's face, and a strange feeling of love and hope and strength filled his heart, as he saw the tears start to her eyes when the tale was ended. His arms were clasped around her neck, but he said only, "Mother, I will wait patiently till I am strong enough to lift the stone, but before that time comes, perhaps my father may come back from Athens."

So for many a year more the days went by, and the boy, Theseus, grew up brave, truthful, and strong. None who looked upon him grudged him his beauty, for his gentleness left no room for envy, and his mother listened with a proud and glad heart to the words with which the people of the land told of his kindly deeds. At length the days of his youth were ended, but Aigeus came not back, and Theseus went to Aithra, and said, "The time is come, my mother; I must see this day whether I am strong enough to lift the stone." And Aithra answered, gently, "Be it as thou wilt, and as the undying gods will it, my son." Then he went up to the rock, and nerved himself for a mighty effort, and the stone yielded slowly to his strength, and the sword and sandals lay before him. Presently he stood before Aithra, and to her it seemed that the face of Theseus was as the face of one of the bright heroes who dwell in the halls of Zeus. A flush of glorious beauty lit up his countenance, as she girt the sword to his side and said, "The gods prosper thee, my son, and they will prosper thee, if thou livest in time to come as thou hast lived in the days that are gone."