Part 50

Now, Orpheus had a wife who was called Eurydike, whom he loved very dearly. All through the winter, when the snow was on the hills, and all through the summer, when the sunshine made everything beautiful, Orpheus used to sing to her, and Eurydike sat on the grass by his side while the beasts came round to listen, and the trees bowed down their heads to hear him.

But one day when Eurydike was playing with some children on the bank of the river, she trod upon a snake in the long grass, and the snake bit her. And by and by she began to be very sick, and Eurydike knew that she must die. So she told the children to go to Orpheus (for he was far away) and say how sorry she was to leave him, and that she loved him always very dearly, and then she put her head down upon the grass and fell asleep and died. Sad indeed was Orpheus when the children came to tell him that Eurydike was dead. He felt so wretched that he never played upon his golden harp, and he never opened his lips to sing, and the beasts that used to listen to him wondered why Orpheus sat all alone on the green bank where Eurydike used to sit with him, and why it was that he never made any more of his beautiful music. All day long he sat there, and his cheeks were often wet with tears. At last he said, "I can not stay here any more, I must go and look for Eurydike. I can not bear to be without her, and perhaps the king of the land where people go after they are dead will let her come back and live with me again."

So he took his harp in his hand, and went to look for Eurydike in the land which is far away, where the sun goes down into his golden cup before the night comes on. And he went on and on a very long way, till at last he came to a high and dark gateway. It was barred across with iron bars, and it was bolted and locked so that nobody could open it.

It was a wretched and gloomy place, because the sunshine never came there, and it was covered with clouds and mist. In front of this great gateway there sat a monstrous dog, with three heads, and six eyes, and three tongues, and everything was dark around, except his eyes, which shone like fire, and which saw every one that dared to come near. Now, when Orpheus came looking for Eurydike, the dog raised his three heads, and opened his three mouths, and gnashed his teeth at him, and roared terribly, but when Orpheus came nearer, the dog jumped up upon his feet and got himself ready to fly at him and tear him to pieces. Then Orpheus took down his harp and began to play upon its golden strings. And the dog, Kerberos (for that was his name), growled and snarled and showed the great white teeth which were in his three mouths, but he could not help hearing the sweet music, and he wondered why it was that he did not wish any more to tear Orpheus in pieces. Very soon the music made him quiet and still, and at last it lulled him to sleep, and only his heavy breathing told that there was any dog there. So when Kerberos had gone to sleep, Orpheus passed by him and came up to the gate, and he found it wide open, for it had come open of its own accord while he was singing. And he was glad when he saw this, for he thought that now he should see Eurydike.

So he went on and on a long way, until he came to the palace of the King, and there were guards placed before the door who tried to keep him from going in, but Orpheus played upon his harp, and then they could not help letting him go.

[Illustration: ERATE (_Muse of the Lute_).]

So he went into the great hall, where he saw the King and Queen sitting on a throne, and as Orpheus came near, the King called out to him with a loud and terrible voice, "Who are you, and how dare you to come here? Do you not know that no one is allowed to come here till after they are dead? I will have you chained and placed in a dungeon, from which you will never be able to get out." Then Orpheus said nothing, but he took his golden harp in his hand and began to sing more sweetly and gently than ever, because he knew that, if he liked to do so, the King could let him see Eurydike again. And as he sang, the face of the King began to look almost glad, and his anger passed away, and he began to feel how much happier it must be to be gentle and loving than to be angry and cruel. Then the King said, "You have made me feel happy with your sweet music, although I have never felt happy before; and now tell me why you have come, because you must want something or other, for, otherwise, no one would come, before he was dead, to this sad and gloomy land of which I am the King." Then Orpheus said, "O King, give me back my dear Eurydike, and let her go from this gloomy place and live with me on the bright earth again." So the King said that she should go. And the King said to Orpheus, "I have given you what you wanted, because you sang so sweetly, and when you go back to the earth from this place, your wife whom you love shall go up after you, but remember that you must never look back until she has reached the earth, for if you do, Eurydike will be brought back here, and I shall not be able to give her to you again, even if you should sing more sweetly and gently than ever."

Now, Orpheus was longing to see Eurydike, and he hoped that the King would let him see her at once, but when the King said that he must not try to see her till she had reached the earth, he was quite content, for he said, "Shall I not wait patiently a little while, that Eurydike may come and live with me again?" So he promised the King that he would go up to the earth without stopping to look behind and see whether Eurydike was coming after him.

Then Orpheus went away from the palace of the King, and he passed through the dark gateway, and the dog, Kerberos, did not bark or growl, for he knew that Orpheus would not have been allowed to come back if the King had not wished it. So he went on and on a long way, and he became impatient, and longed more and more to see Eurydike. At last he came near to the land of living men, and he saw just a little streak of light, where the sun was going to rise from the sea, and presently the sky became brighter, and he saw everything before him so clearly that he could not help turning round to look at Eurydike. But, ah! she had not yet quite reached the earth, and so now he lost her again. He just saw something pale and white, which looked like his own dear wife, and he just heard a soft and gentle voice, which sounded like the voice of Eurydike, and then it all melted away. And still he thought that he saw that pale white face, and heard that soft and gentle voice, which said, "O Orpheus, Orpheus, why did you look back? How dearly I love you, and how glad I should have been to live with you again, but now I must go back, because you have broken your promise to the King, and I must not even kiss you, and say how much I love you."

[Illustration: TERPSICHORE. (_Muse of Dancing._)]

And Orpheus sat down at the place where Eurydike was taken away from him, and he could not go on any further, because he felt so miserable. There he stayed day after day, and his cheek became more pale, and his body weaker and weaker, till at last he knew that he must die. And Orpheus was not sorry, for although he loved the bright earth, with all its flowers and soft grass and sunny streams, he knew that he could not be with Eurydike again until he left it. So at last he laid his head upon the earth, and fell asleep, and died; and then he and Eurydike saw each other in the land which is far away, where the sun goes down at night into his golden cup, and were never parted again.

KADMOS AND EUROPA.

In a beautiful valley in Phoenicia, a long time ago, two children, named Kadmos and Europa, lived with their mother, Telephassa. They were good and happy children, and full of fun and merriment. It was a very lovely place in which they lived, where there were all sorts of beautiful trees with fruits and flowers. The oranges shone like gold among the dark leaves, and great bunches of dates hung from the tall palm trees which bowed their heads as if they were asleep, and there was a delicious smell from the lime groves, and from many fruits and flowers which are never seen in America, but which blossom and ripen under the hot sun in Syria.

So the years went; and one day, as they were playing about by the side of the river, there came into the field a beautiful white bull. He was quite white all over--as white as the whitest snow; there was not a single spot or speck on any part of his body. And he came and lay down on the green grass, and remained still and quiet. So they went nearer and nearer to the bull, and the bull did not move, but looked at them with his large eyes as if he wished to ask them to come and play with him, and at last they came to the place where the bull was. Then Kadmos thought that he would be very brave, so he put out his hand, and began to pat the bull on his side, and the bull only made a soft sound to show how glad he was. Then Europa put out her hand, and stroked him on the face, and laid hold of his white horn, and the bull rubbed his face gently against her dress.

So by and by Kadmos thought that it would be pleasant to have a ride on the back of the bull, and he got on, and the bull rose up from the ground, and went slowly round the field with Kadmos on his back, and just for a minute or two Kadmos felt frightened, but when he saw how well and safely the bull carried him, he was not afraid any more. So they played with the bull until the sun sank down behind the hills, and then they hastened home.

When they reached the house, they ran quickly to Telephassa, and said to her, "Only think, we have been playing in the field with a beautiful white bull." And Telephassa was glad that they had been so happy, but she would not have been so glad if she had known what the bull was going to do.

Now, the next day while Europa was on its back, the bull began to trot quickly away, but Kadmos thought he was only trotting away for fun. So he ran after him, and cried out to make him stop. But the faster that Kadmos ran, the bull ran faster still, and then Kadmos saw that the bull was running away with his sister, Europa. Away the bull flew, all along the bank of the river, and up the steep hill and down into the valley on the other side, and then he scoured along the plain beneath. And Kadmos watched his white body, which shone like silver as he dashed through the small bushes and the long waving grass and the creeping plants which were trailing about all over the ground, till at last the white body of the bull looked only like a little speck, and then Kadmos could see it no more.

Very wretched was Kadmos when his sister was taken away from him in this strange way. His eyes were full of tears so that he could scarcely see, but still he kept on looking and looking in the way the bull had gone, and hoping that he would bring his sister back by and by. But the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, and then Kadmos saw him go down behind the hills, and he knew now that the bull would not come again, and then he began to weep bitterly. He hardly dared to go home and tell Telephassa what had happened, and yet he knew that he ought to tell her. So he went home slowly and sadly, and Telephassa saw him coming alone, and she began to be afraid that something had happened to Europa, and when she came up to him Kadmos could scarcely speak. At last he said, "The bull has run away with Europa." Then Telephassa asked him where he had gone, and Kadmos said that he did not know. But Telephassa said, "Which way did he go?" and then Kadmos told her that the bull had run away towards the land of the West, where the sun goes down into his golden cup. Then Telephassa said that they, too, must get up early in the morning and go towards the land of the West, and see if they could find Europa again.

That night they hardly slept at all, and their cheeks were pale and wet with their tears. And before the sun rose, and while the stars still glimmered in the pale light of the morning, they got up and went on their journey to look for Europa. Far away they went, along the valleys and over the hills, across the rivers and through the woods, and they asked every one whom they met if they had seen a white bull with a girl upon its back. But no one had seen anything of the kind, and many people thought that Kadmos and Telephassa were silly to ask such a question, for they said, "Girls do not ride on the backs of bulls; you can not be telling the truth." So they went on and on, asking every one, but hearing nothing about her; and as they journeyed, sometimes they saw the great mountains rising up high into the sky, with their tops covered with snow, and shining like gold in the light of the setting sun; sometimes they rested on the bank of a great broad river, where the large white leaves lay floating and sleeping on the water, and where the palm trees waved their long branches above their heads. Sometimes they came to a water-fall, where the water sparkled brightly as it rushed over the great stones. And whenever they came to these beautiful places, Kadmos would say to Telephassa, "How we should have enjoyed staying here if Europa were with us; but we do not care to stay here now, we must go on looking for her everywhere." So they went on and on till they came to the sea, and they wondered how they could get across it, for it was a great deal wider than any river which they had seen. At last they found a place where the sea was narrow, and here a boatman took them across in his boat, just where little Helle had been drowned when she fell off the back of the ram that was carrying her and her brother away to Kolchis. So Telephassa and Kadmos crossed over Hellespontos, which means the Sea of Helle, and they went on and on, over mountains and hills and rocks, and wild gloomy places, till they came to the sunny plains of Thessaly. And still they asked every one about Europa, but they found no one who had seen her. And Kadmos saw that his mother was getting weak and thin, and that she could not walk now as far and as quickly as she had done when they had set out from home to look for his sister. So he asked her to rest for a little while. But Telephassa said, "We must go on, Kadmos, for if we do, perhaps we may still find Europa." So they went on, until at last Telephassa felt that she could not go any further. And she said to Kadmos, "I am very tired, and I do not think I shall be able to walk any more with you; I must lie down and go to sleep here, and perhaps, Kadmos, I may not wake again. But if I die while I am asleep, then you must go on by yourself and look for Europa, for I am quite sure that you will find her some day, although I shall not be with you. And when you see your sister, tell her how I longed to find her again, and how much I loved her always. And now, my child, I must go to sleep, and if I do not wake up any more, then I trust that we shall all see each other again one day, in a land which is brighter and happier than even the land in which we used to live before your sister was taken away from us."

So when she had said this, Telephassa fell asleep, just as the daylight was going away from the sky, and when the bright round moon rose up slowly from behind the dark hill. All night long Kadmos watched by her side, and when the morning came, he saw that Telephassa had died while she was asleep. Her face was quite still, and Kadmos knew by the happy smile which was on it, that she had gone to the bright land to which good people go when they are dead. Kadmos was very sorry to be parted from his mother, but he was not sorry that now she could not feel tired or sorrowful any more. So Kadmos placed his mother's body in the ground, and very soon all kinds of flowers grew up upon her grave.

But Kadmos had gone on to look for his sister, Europa, and presently he met a shepherd who was leading his flock of sheep. He was very beautiful to look at. His face shone as bright almost as the sun. He had a golden harp, and a golden bow, and arrows in a golden quiver, and his name was Phoebus Apollo. And Kadmos went up to him and said, "Have you seen my sister, Europa? a white bull ran away with her on his back. Can you tell me where I can find her?" And Phoebus Apollo said, "I have seen your sister, Europa, but I can not tell you yet where she is, you must go on a great way further still, till you come to a town which is called Delphi, under a great mountain named Parnassos, and there perhaps you may be able to find out something about her. But when you have seen her you must not stay there, because I wish you to build a city, and become a King, and be wise and strong and good. You and Europa must follow a beautiful cow that I shall send, till it lies down upon the ground to rest, and the place where the cow shall lie down shall be the place where I wish you to build the city."

So Kadmos went on and on till he came to the town of Delphi, which lay beneath the great mountain, called Parnassos. And there he saw a beautiful temple with white marble pillars, which shone brightly in the light of the early morning. And Kadmos went into the temple, and there he saw his dear sister, Europa. And Kadmos said, "Europa, is it you, indeed? How glad I am to find you." Then Europa told Kadmos how the bull had brought her and left her there a long time ago, and how sorry she had been that she could not tell Telephassa where she was. Then she said to Kadmos, "How pale and thin and weak you look; tell me how it is you are come alone, and when shall I see our dear mother?" Then his eyes became full of tears, and Kadmos said, "We shall never see our mother again in this world. She has gone to the happy land where good people go when they are dead. She was so tired with seeking after you that at last she could not come any further, and she lay down and fell asleep, and never waked up again. But she said that when I saw you I must tell you how she longed to see you, and how she hoped that we should all live together one day in the land to which she has gone before us. And now, Europa, we must not stay here, for I met a shepherd whose name is Phoebus Apollo. He had a golden harp and a golden bow, and his face shone like the sun, and he told me that we must follow a beautiful cow which he would send, and build a city in that place where the cow shall lie down to rest."

[Illustration: ANCIENT SACRIFICE. (_From Wall Painting of Pompeii._)]

So Europa left Delphi with her brother, Kadmos, and when they had gone a little way, they saw a cow lying down on the grass. But when they came near, the cow got up, and began to walk in front of them, and then they knew that this was the cow which Phoebus Apollo had sent. So they followed the cow, and it went on and on, a long way, and at last it lay down to rest on a large plain, and Kadmos knew then that this was the place where he must build the city. And there he built a great many houses, and the city was called Thebes. And Kadmos became the King of Thebes, and his sister, Europa, lived there with him. He was a wise and good King, and ruled his people justly and kindly. And by and by Kadmos and Europa both fell asleep and died, and then they saw their mother, Telephassa, in the happy land to which good people go when they are dead, and were never parted from her any more.

BELLEROPHON.