Chapter 6

Argo, escaped the two inrushing rocks, And snow-clad Pontus with his baleful jaws, Came to Bebrycia with her heaven-sprung freight; There by one ladder disembarked a host Of Heroes from the decks of Jason's ship. On the low beach, to leeward of the cliff, They leapt, and piled their beds, and lit their fires: Castor meanwhile, the bridler of the steed, And Polydeuces of the nut-brown face, Had wandered from their mates; and, wildered both, Searched through the boskage of the hill, and found Hard by a slab of rock a bubbling spring Brimful of purest water. In the depths Below, like crystal or like silver gleamed The pebbles: high above it pine and plane And poplar rose, and cypress tipt with green; With all rich flowers that throng the mead, when wanes The Spring, sweet workshops of the furry bee. There sat and sunned him one of giant bulk And grisly mien: hard knocks had stov'n his ears: Broad were his shoulders, vast his orbèd chest; Like a wrought statue rose his iron frame: And nigh the shoulder on each brawny arm Stood out the muscles, huge as rolling stones Caught by some rain-swoln river and shapen smooth By its wild eddyings: and o'er nape and spine Hung, balanced by the claws, a lion's skin. Him Leda's conquering son accosted first:--

POLYDEUCES. Luck to thee, friend unknown! Who own this shore?

AMYCUS. Luck, quotha, to see men ne'er seen before!

POLYDEUCES. Fear not, no base or base-born herd are we.

AMYCUS. Nothing I fear, nor need learn this from thee.

POLYDEUCES. What art thou? brutish churl, or o'erproud king?

AMYCUS. E'en what thou see'st: and I am not trespassing.

POLYDEUCES. Visit our land, take gifts from us, and go.

AMYCUS. I seek naught from thee and can naught bestow.

POLYDEUCES. Not e'en such grace as from yon spring to sip?

AMYCUS. Try, if parched thirst sits languid on thy lip.

POLYDEUCES. Can silver move thee? or if not, what can?

AMYCUS. Stand up and fight me singly, man with man.

POLYDEUCES. With fists? or fist and foot, eye covering eye?

AMYCUS. Fall to with fists; and all thy cunning try.

POLYDEUCES. This arm, these gauntlets, who shall dare withstand?

AMYCUS. I: and "the Bruiser" lifts no woman's-hand.

POLYDEUCES. Wilt thou, to crown our strife, some meed assign?

AMYCUS. Thou shalt be called my master, or I thine.

POLYDEUCES. By crimson-crested cocks such games are won.

AMYCUS. Lions or cocks, we'll play this game or none.

He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and blew His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long, Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too, The peerless in the lists, went forth and called From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all.

Then either warrior armed with coils of hide His hands, and round his limbs bound ponderous bands, And, breathing bloodshed, stept into the ring. First there was much manoeuvring, who should catch The sunlight on his rear: but thou didst foil, O Polydeuces, valour by address; And full on Amycus' face the hot noon smote. He in hot wrath strode forward, threatening war; Straightway the Tyndarid smote him, as he closed, Full on the chin: more furious waxed he still, And, earthward bent, dealt blindly random blows. Bebrycia shouted loud, the Greeks too cheered Their champion: fearing lest in that scant space This Tityus by sheer weight should bear him down. But, shifting yet still there, the son of Zeus Scored him with swift exchange of left and right, And checked the onrush of the sea-god's child Parlous albeit: till, reeling with his wounds, He stood, and from his lips spat crimson blood. Cheered yet again the princes, when they saw The lips and jowl all seamed with piteous scars, And the swoln visage and the half-closed eyes. Still the prince teased him, feinting here or there A thrust; and when he saw him helpless all, Let drive beneath his eyelids at his nose, And laid it bare to the bone. The stricken man Measured his length supine amid the fern. Keen was the fighting when he rose again, Deadly the blows their sturdy gauntlets dealt. But while Bebrycia's chieftain sparred round chest And utmost shoulder, the resistless foe Made his whole face one mass of hideous wounds. While the one sweated all his bulk away, And, late a giant, seemed a pigmy now, The other's limbs waxed ever as he fought In semblance and in size. But in what wise The child of Zeus brought low that man of greed, Tell, Muse, for thine is knowledge: I unfold A secret not mine own; at thy behest Speak or am dumb, nor speak but as thou wilt.

Amycus, athirst to do some doughty deed, Stooping aslant from Polydeuces' lunge Locked their left hands; and, stepping out, upheaved From his right hip his ponderous other-arm. And hit and harmed had been Amyclæ's king; But, ducking low, he smote with one stout fist The foe's left temple--fast the life-blood streamed From the grim rift--and on his shoulder fell. While with his left he reached the mouth, and made The set teeth tingle; and, redoubling aye His plashing blows, made havoc of his face And crashed into his cheeks, till all abroad He lay, and throwing up his arms disclaimed The strife, for he was even at death's door. No wrong the vanquished suffered at thy hands, O Polydeuces; but he sware an oath, Calling his sire Poseidon from the depths, Ne'er to do violence to a stranger more.

Thy tale, O prince, is told. Now sing I thee, Castor the Tyndarid, lord of rushing horse And shaking javelin, corsleted in brass.

PART II.

The sons of Zeus had borne two maids away, Leucippus' daughters. Straight in hot pursuit Went the two brethren, sons of Aphareus, Lynceus and Idas bold, their plighted lords. And when the tomb of Aphareus was gained, All leapt from out their cars, and front to front Stood, with their ponderous spears and orbed shields. First Lynceus shouted loud from 'neath his helm:

"Whence, sirs, this lust for strife? Why, sword in hand, Raise ye this coil about your neighbours' wives? To us Leucippus these his daughters gave, Long ere ye saw them: they are ours on oath. Ye, coveting (to your shame) your neighbour's bed And kine and asses and whatever is his, Suborned the man and stole our wives by bribes. How often spake I thus before your face, Yea I myself, though scant I am of phrase: 'Not thus, fair sirs, do honourable men Seek to woo wives whose troth is given elsewhere. Lo, broad is Sparta, broad the hunting-grounds Of Elis: fleecy Arcady is broad, And Argos and Messene and the towns To westward, and the long Sisyphian reach. There 'neath her parents' roof dwells many a maid Second to none in godliness or wit: Wed of all these, and welcome, whom ye will, For all men court the kinship of the brave; And ye are as your sires, and they whose blood Runs in your mother's veins, the flower of war. Nay, sirs, but let us bring this thing to pass; Then, taking counsel, choose meet brides for you.' So I ran on; but o'er the shifting seas The wind's breath blew my words, that found no grace With you, for ye defied the charmer's voice. Yet listen to me now if ne'er before: Lo! we are kinsmen by the father's side. But if ye lust for war, if strife must break Forth among kin, and bloodshed quench our feud, Bold Polydeuces then shall hold his hands And his cousin Idas from the abhorrèd fray: While I and Castor, the two younger-born, Try war's arbitrament; so spare our sires Sorrow exceeding. In one house one dead Sufficeth: let the others glad their mates, To the bride-chamber passing, not the grave, And o'er yon maids sing jubilee. Well it were At cost so small to lay so huge a strife."

He spoke--his words heaven gave not to the winds. They, the two first-born, disarrayed and piled Their arms, while Lynceus stept into the ring, And at his shield's rim shook his stalwart spear. And Castor likewise poised his quivering lance; High waved the plume on either warrior's helm. First each at other thrust with busy spear Where'er he spied an inch of flesh exposed: But lo! both spearpoints in their wicker shields Lodged ere a blow was struck, and snapt in twain. Then they unsheathed their swords, and framed new modes Of slaughter: pause or respite there was none. Oft Castor on broad shield and plumèd helm Lit, and oft keen-eyed Lynceus pierced his shield, Or grazed his crest of crimson. But anon, As Lynceus aimed his blade at Castor's knee, Back with the left sprang Castor and struck off His fingers: from the maimed limb dropped the sword. And, flying straightway, for his father's tomb He made, where gallant Idas sat and saw The battle of the brethren. But the child Of Zeus rushed in, and with his broadsword drave Through flank and navel, sundering with swift stroke His vitals: Lynceus tottered and he fell, And o'er his eyelids rushed the dreamless sleep. Nor did their mother see her elder son Come a fair bridegroom to his Cretan home. For Idas wrenched from off the dead man's tomb A jutting slab, to hurl it at the man Who had slain his brother. Then did Zeus bring aid, And struck the marble fabric from his grasp, And with red lightning burned his frame to dust. So doth he fight with odds who dares provoke The Tyndarids, mighty sons of mighty sire. Now farewell, Leda's children: prosper aye The songs I sing. What minstrel loves not well The Tyndarids, and Helen, and the chiefs That trod Troy down for Meneläus' sake? The bard of Chios wrought your royal deeds Into his lays, who sang of Priam's state, And fights 'neath Ilion's walls; of sailor Greeks, And of Achilles towering in the strife. Yet take from me whate'er of clear sweet song The Muse accords me, even all my store! The gods' most precious gift is minstrelsy.

IDYLL XXIII.

Love Avenged

A lad deep-dipt in passion pined for one Whose mood was froward as her face was fair. Lovers she loathed, for tenderness she had none: Ne'er knew what Love was like, nor how he bare A bow, and arrows to make young maids smart: Proof to all speech, all access, seemed her heart.

So he found naught his furnace to allay; No quiver of lips, no lighting of kind eyes, Nor rose-flushed cheek; no talk, no lover's play Was deigned him: but as forest-beasts are shy Of hound and hunter, with this wight dealt she; Fierce was her lip, her eyes gleamed ominously.

Her tyrant's-heart was imaged in her face, That flushed, then altering put on blank disdain. Yet, even then, her anger had its grace, And made her lover fall in love again. At last, unable to endure his flame, To the fell threshold all in tears he came:

Kissed it, and lifted up his voice and said: "O heart of stone, O curst and cruel maid Unworthy of all love, by lions bred, See, my last offering at thy feet is laid, The halter that shall hang me! So no more For my sake, lady, need thy heart be sore.

Whither thou doom'st me, thither must I fare. There is a path, that whoso treads hath ease (Men say) from love; Forgetfulness is there. But if I drain that chalice to the lees, I may not quench the love I have for you; Now at your gates I cast my long adieu.

Your future I foresee. The rose is gay, And passing-sweet the violet of the spring: Yet time despoils them, and they soon decay. The lily droops and dies, that lustrous thing; The solid-seeming snowdrift melts full fast; And maiden's bloom is rare, but may not last.

The time shall come, when you shall feel as I; And, with seared heart, weep many a bitter tear. But, maiden, grant one farewell courtesy. When you come forth, and see me hanging here, E'en at your door, forget not my hard case; But pause and weep me for a moment's space.

And drop one tear, and cut me down, and spread O'er me some garment, for a funeral pall, That wrapped thy limbs: and kiss me--let the dead Be privileged thus highly--last of all. You need not fear me: not if your disdain Changed into fondness could I live again.

And scoop a grave, to hide my loves and me: And thrice, at parting, say, 'My friend's no more:' Add if you list, 'a faithful friend was he;' And write this epitaph, scratched upon your door: _Stranger, Love slew him. Pass not by, until Thou hast paused and said, 'His mistress used him ill_.'"

This said, he grasped a stone: that ghastly stone At the mid threshold 'neath the wall he laid, And o'er the beam the light cord soon was thrown, And his neck noosed. In air the body swayed, Its footstool spurned away. Forth came once more The maid, and saw him hanging at her door.

No struggle of heart it cost her, ne'er a tear She wept o'er that young life, nor shunned to soil, By contact with the corpse, her woman's-gear. But on she went to watch the athletes' toil, Then made for her loved haunt, the riverside: And there she met the god she had defied.

For on a marble pedestal Eros stood Fronting the pool: the statue leaped, and smote And slew that miscreant. All the stream ran blood; And to the top a girl's cry seemed to float. Rejoice, O lovers, since the scorner fell; And, maids, be kind; for Love deals justice well.

IDYLL XXIV.

The Infant Heracles.

Alcmena once had washed and given the breast To Heracles, a babe of ten months old, And Iphicles his junior by a night; And cradled both within a brazen shield, A gorgeous trophy, which Amphitryon erst Had stript from Ptereläus fall'n in fight. She stroked their baby brows, and thus she said:

"Sleep, children mine, a light luxurious sleep, Brother with brother: sleep, my boys, my life: Blest in your slumber, in your waking blest!"

She spake and rocked the shield; and in his arms Sleep took them. But at midnight, when the Bear Wheels to his setting, in Orion's front Whose shoulder then beams broadest; Hera sent, Mistress of wiles, two huge and hideous things, Snakes with their scales of azure all on end, To the broad portal of the chamber-door, All to devour the infant Heracles. They, all their length uncoiled upon the floor, Writhed on to their blood-feast; a baleful light Gleamed in their eyes, rank venom they spat forth. But when with lambent tongues they neared the cot, Alcmena's babes (for Zeus was watching all) Woke, and throughout the chamber there was light. Then Iphicles--so soon as he descried The fell brutes peering o'er the hollow shield, And saw their merciless fangs--cried lustily, And kicked away his coverlet of down, Fain to escape. But Heracles, he clung Round them with warlike hands, in iron grasp Prisoning the two: his clutch upon their throat, The deadly snake's laboratory, where He brews such poisons as e'en heaven abhors. They twined and twisted round the babe that, born After long travail, ne'er had shed a tear E'en in his nursery; soon to quit their hold, For powerless seemed their spines. Alcmena heard, While her lord slept, the crying, and awoke.

"Amphitryon, up: chill fears take hold on me. Up: stay not to put sandals on thy feet. Hear'st thou our child, our younger, how he cries? Seest thou yon walls illumed at dead of night, But not by morn's pure beam? I know, I know, Sweet lord, that some strange thing is happening here."

She spake; and he, upleaping at her call, Made swiftly for the sword of quaint device That aye hung dangling o'er his cedarn couch: And he was reaching at his span-new belt, The scabbard (one huge piece of lotus-wood) Poised on his arm; when suddenly the night Spread out her hands, and all was dark again. Then cried he to his slaves, whose sleep was deep: "Quick, slaves of mine; fetch fire from yonder hearth: And force with all your strength the doorbolts back! Up, loyal-hearted slaves: the master calls."

Forth came at once the slaves with lighted lamps. The house was all astir with hurrying feet. But when they saw the suckling Heracles With the two brutes grasped firm in his soft hands, They shouted with one voice. But he must show The reptiles to Amphitryon; held aloft His hands in childish glee, and laughed and laid At his sire's feet the monsters still in death.

Then did Alcmena to her bosom take The terror-blanched and passionate Iphicles: Cradling the other in a lambswool quilt, Her lord once more bethought him of his rest.

Now cocks had thrice sung out that night was e'er. Then went Alcmena forth and told the thing To Teiresias the seer, whose words were truth, And bade him rede her what the end should be:-- 'And if the gods bode mischief, hide it not, Pitying, from me: man shall not thus avoid The doom that Fate upon her distaff spins. Son of Eueres, thou hast ears to hear.'

Thus spake the queen, and thus he made reply: "Mother of monarchs, Perseus' child, take heart; And look but on the fairer side of things. For by the precious light that long ago Left tenantless these eyes, I swear that oft Achaia's maidens, as when eve is high They mould the silken yarn upon their lap, Shall tell Alcmena's story: blest art thou Of women. Such a man in this thy son Shall one day scale the star-encumbered heaven: His amplitude of chest bespeaks him lord Of all the forest beasts and all mankind. Twelve tasks accomplished he must dwell with Zeus; His flesh given over to Trachinian fires; And son-in-law be hailed of those same gods Who sent yon skulking brutes to slay thy babe. Lo! the day cometh when the fawn shall couch In the wolfs lair, nor fear the spiky teeth That would not harm him. But, O lady, keep Yon smouldering fire alive; prepare you piles Of fuel, bramble-sprays or fern or furze Or pear-boughs dried with swinging in the wind: And let the kindled wild-wood burn those snakes At midnight, when they looked to slay thy babe. And let at dawn some handmaid gather up The ashes of the fire, and diligently Convey and cast each remnant o'er the stream Faced by clov'n rocks, our boundary: then return Nor look behind. And purify your home First with sheer sulphur, rain upon it then, (Chaplets of olive wound about your heads,) Innocuous water, and the customed salt. Lastly, to Zeus almighty slay a boar: So shall ye vanquish all your enemies."

Spake Teiresias, and wheeling (though his years Weighed on him sorely) gained his ivory car. And Heracles as some young orchard-tree Grew up, Amphitryon his reputed sire. Old Linus taught him letters, Phoebus' child, A dauntless toiler by the midnight lamp. Each fall whereby the sons of Argos fell, The flingers by cross-buttock, each his man By feats of wrestling: all that boxers e'er, Grim in their gauntlets, have devised, or they Who wage mixed warfare and, adepts in art, Upon the foe fall headlong: all such lore Phocian Harpalicus gave him, Hermes' son: Whom no man might behold while yet far off And wait his armed onset undismayed: A brow so truculent roofed so stern a face. To launch, and steer in safety round the goal, Chariot and steed, and damage ne'er a wheel, This the lad learned of fond Amphitryon's self. Many a fair prize from listed warriors he Had won on Argive racegrounds; yet the car Whereon he sat came still unshattered home, What gaps were in his harness time had made. Then with couched lance to reach the foe, his targe Covering his rear, and bide the biting sword; Or, on the warpath, place his ambuscade, Marshal his lines and rally his cavaliers; This knightly Castor learned him, erst exiled From Argos, when her realms with all their wealth Of vineyards fell to Tydeus, who received Her and her chariots at Adrastus' hand. Amongst the Heroes none was Castor's match Till age had dimmed the glory of his youth.

Such tutors this fond mother gave her son. The stripling's bed was at his father's side, One after his own heart, a lion's skin. His dinner, roast meat, with a loaf that filled A Dorian basket, you might soothly say Had satisfied a delver; and to close The day he took, sans fire, a scanty meal. A simple frock went halfway down his leg:

* * * * *

IDYLL XXV.

Heracles the Lion Slayer.

* * * * *

To whom thus spake the herdsman of the herd, Pausing a moment from his handiwork: "Friend, I will solve thy questions, for I fear The angry looks of Hermes of the roads. No dweller in the skies is wroth as he, With him who saith the asking traveller nay.

"The flocks Augéas owns, our gracious lord, One pasture pastures not, nor one fence bounds. They wander, look you, some by Elissus' banks Or god-beloved Alphéus' sacred stream, Some by Buprasion, where the grape abounds, Some here: their folds stand separate. But before His herds, though they be myriad, yonder glades That belt the broad lake round lie fresh and fair For ever: for the low-lying meadows take The dew, and teem with herbage honeysweet, To lend new vigour to the hornèd kine. Here on thy right their stalls thou canst descry By the flowing river, for all eyes to see: Here, where the platans blossom all the year, And glimmers green the olive that enshrines Rural Apollo, most august of gods. Hard by, fair mansions have been reared for us His herdsmen; us who guard with might and main His riches that are more than tongue may tell: Casting our seed o'er fallows thrice upturn'd Or four times by the share; the bounds whereof Well do the delvers know, whose busy feet Troop to his wine-vats in fair summer-time. Yea, all these acres wise Augéas owns, These corn-clad uplands and these orchards green, Far as yon ledges whence the cataracts leap. Here do we haunt, here toil, as is the wont Of labourers in the fields, the livelong day. But prythee tell me thou--so shalt thou best Serve thine own interests--wherefore art thou here? Seeking Augéas, or mayhap some slave That serves him? I can tell thee and I will All thou would'st know: for of no churlish blood Thou earnest, nor wert nurtured as a churl: That read I in thy stateliness of form; The sons of heaven move thus among mankind."

Then answered him the warrior son of Zeus. "Yea, veteran, I would see the Epéan King Augéas; surely for this end I came. If he bides there amongst his citizens, Ruling the folk, determining the laws, Look, father; bid some serf to be my guide, Some honoured master-worker in the fields, Who to shrewd questions shrewdly can reply. Are not we made dependent each on each?"