Bulfinch’s Mythology quotes

But if that which tends to make us happier and better can be called useful, then we claim that epithet for our subject.

For mythology is the handmaid of literature; and literature is one of the best allies of virtue and promoters of happiness.

Without a knowledge of mythology much of the elegant literature of our own language cannot be understood and appreciated.

The religions of ancient Greece and Rome are extinct.

The so-called divinities of Olympus have not a single worshipper among living men. They belong now not to the department of theology, but to those of literature and taste.

The religions of ancient Greece and Rome are extinct.

The so-called divinities of Olympus have not a single worshipper among living men.

They belong now not to the department of theology, but to those of literature and taste.

Pandora hastened to replace the lid! but, alas! the whole contents of the jar had escaped, one thing only excepted, which lay at the bottom, and that was hope.

So we see at this day, whatever evils are abroad, hope never entirely leaves us; and while we have that, no amount of other ills can make us completely wretched.

Another story is that Pandora was sent in good faith, by Jupiter, to bless man; that she was furnished with a box, containing her marriage presents, into which every god had put some blessing.

The earth, which till now had been cultivated in common, began to be divided off into possessions. Men were not satisfied with what the surface produced, but must dig into its bowels, and draw forth from thence the ores of metals.

Mischievous iron, and more mischievous gold, were produced.

War sprang up, using both as weapons; the guest was not safe in his friend’s house; and sons-in-law and fathers-in-law, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, could not trust one another. Sons wished their fathers dead, that they might come to the inheritance;

Now all was sea, sea without shore. Here and there an individual remained on a projecting hilltop, and a few, in boats, pulled the oar where they had lately driven the plough.

The fishes swim among the treetops; the anchor is let down into a garden.

Where the graceful lambs played but now, unwieldy sea calves gambol. The wolf swims among the sheep, the yellow lions and tigers struggle in the water. The strength of the wild boar serves him not, nor his swiftness the stag.

The moisture and slime that were about them became flesh; the stony part became bones; the veins remained veins, retaining their name, only changing their use. Those thrown by the hand of the man became men, and those by the woman became women.

It was a hard race, and well adapted to labor, as we find ourselves to be at this day, giving plain indications of our origin.

The comparison of Eve to Pandora is too obvious to have escaped Milton, who introduces it in Book IV of Paradise-Lost:

I am the god of song and the lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but, alas! an arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart!

I am the god of medicine, and know the virtues of all healing plants. Alas! I suffer a malady that no balm can cure!

”

In the wall that parted the two houses there was a crack, caused by some fault in the structure. No one had remarked it before, but the lovers discovered it.

What will not love discover!

It afforded a passage to the voice; and tender messages used to pass backward and forward through the gap. As they stood, Pyramus on this side, Thisbe on that, their breaths would mingle. “Cruel wall,” they said, “why do you keep two lovers apart?

Ah, how often, afraid to stay in the woods all night alone, she wandered about the neighborhood of her former haunts; how often, frightened by the dogs, did she, so lately a huntress, fly in terror from the hunters!

Often she fled from the wild beasts, forgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she was, was afraid of the bears.

One day a youth espied her as he was hunting. She saw him and recognized him as her own son, now grown a young man. She stopped and felt inclined to embrace him.

Surrounded as she was by her nymphs, she yet turned half away, and sought with a sudden impulse for her arrows. As they were not at hand, she dashed the water into the face of the intruder, adding these words:

“Now go and tell, if you can, that you have seen Diana unapparelled.”

Immediately a pair of branching stag’s horns grew out of his head, his neck gained in length, his ears grew sharp-pointed, his hands became feet, his arms long legs, his body was covered with a hairy spotted hide.

First Melampus, a Spartan dog, gave the signal with his bark, then Pamphagus, Dorceus, Lelaps, Theron, Nape, Tigris, and all the rest, rushed after him swifter than the wind. Over rocks and cliffs, through mountain gorges that seemed impracticable, he fled and they followed.

Where he had often chased the stag and cheered on his pack, his pack now chased him, cheered on by his huntsmen.

He longed to cry out, “I am Actaeon; recognize your master!” but the words came not at his will. The air resounded with the bark of the dogs. Presently one fastened on his back, another seized his shoulder.

The goddess approached, and kneeling on the bank would have slaked her thirst in the cool stream, but the rustics forbade her. ‘Why do you refuse me water?’ said she; ‘water is free to all.

Nature allows no one to claim as property the sunshine, the air, or the water.

I come to take my share of the common blessing. Yet I ask it of you as a favor. I have no intention of washing my limbs in it, weary though they be, but only to quench my thirst.

I can scarcely govern them myself, when they are unruly and resist the reins. Beware, my son, lest I be the donor of a fatal gift; recall your request while yet you may.

Do you ask me for a proof that you are sprung from my blood? I give you a proof in my fears for you.

Look at my face—I would that you could look into my breast, you would there see all a father’s anxiety. Finally,” he continued, “look round the world and choose whatever you will of what earth or sea contains most precious—ask it and fear no refusal.

Finally,” he continued, “look round the world and choose whatever you will of what earth or sea contains most precious—ask it and fear no refusal. This only I pray you not to urge.

It is not honor, but destruction you seek.

Why do you hang round my neck and still entreat me? You shall have it if you persist—the oath is sworn and must be kept—but I beg you to choose more wisely.”

But he found it too much for his discretion to keep such a secret; so he went out into the meadow, dug a hole in the ground, and stooping down, whispered the story, and covered it up.

Before long a thick bed of reeds sprang up in the meadow, and as soon as it had gained its growth, began whispering the story, and has continued to do so, from that day to this, every time a breeze passes over the place.

The story of King Midas has been told by others with some variations. Dryden, in the Wife of Bath’s Tale, makes Midas’s queen the betrayer of the secret:

At last a humble mansion received them, a small thatched cottage, where Baucis, a pious old dame, and her husband Philemon, united when young, had grown old together.

Not ashamed of their poverty, they made it endurable by moderate desires and kind dispositions.

One need not look there for master or for servant; they two were the whole household, master and servant alike.

If she scorns you scorn her; meet one who is ready to meet you halfway, and thus make a due return to both at once.” To these words Glaucus replied, “

Sooner shall trees grow at the bottom of the ocean, and seaweed on the top of the mountains, than I will cease to love Scylla, and her alone.

”

He was a sculptor, and had made with wonderful skill a statue of ivory, so beautiful that no living woman came anywhere near it. It was indeed the perfect semblance of a maiden that seemed to be alive, and only prevented from moving by modesty.

His art was so perfect that it concealed itself and its product looked like the workmanship of nature.

Pygmalion admired his own work, and at last fell in love with the counterfeit creation. Oftentimes he laid his hand upon it as if to assure himself whether it were living or not, and could not even then believe that it was only ivory.

“Thou diest, Hyacinth,” so spoke Phoebus, “robbed of thy youth by me.

Thine is the suffering, mine the crime.

Would that I could die for thee! But since that may not be, thou shalt live with me in memory and in song. My lyre shall celebrate thee, my song shall tell thy fate, and thou shalt become a flower inscribed with my regrets.”

But oftenest on his lips was the name of Halcyone. To her his thoughts cling. He prays that the waves may bear his body to her sight, and that it may receive burial at her hands. At length the waters overwhelm him, and he sinks.

The Daystar looked dim that night. Since it could not leave the heavens, it shrouded its face with clouds.

In the meanwhile Halcyone, ignorant of all these horrors, counted the days till her husband’s promised return. Now she gets ready the garments which he shall put on, and now what she shall wear when he arrives.

The bird of dawning, with crested head, never there calls aloud to Aurora, nor watchful dog, nor more sagacious goose disturbs the silence. No wild beast, nor cattle, nor branch moved with the wind, nor sound of human conversation, breaks the stillness.

Silence reigns there; but from the bottom of the rock the River Lethe flows, and by its murmur invites to sleep.

Poppies grow abundantly before the door of the cave, and other herbs, from whose juices Night collects slumbers, which she scatters over the darkened earth. There is no gate to the mansion, to creak on its hinges, nor any watchman;

Sometimes he committed his vows to written tablets, and often hung at her door garlands which he had moistened with his tears. He stretched himself on her threshold, and uttered his complaints to the cruel bolts and bars.

She was deafer than the surges which rise in the November gale; harder than steel from the German forges, or a rock that still clings to its native cliff.

She mocked and laughed at him, adding cruel words to her ungentle treatment, and gave not the slightest gleam of hope.

When Vertumnus had spoken thus, he dropped the disguise of an old woman, and stood before her in his proper person, as a comely youth.

It appeared to her like the sun bursting through a cloud.

He would have renewed his entreaties, but there was no need; his arguments and the sight of his true form prevailed, and the Nymph no longer resisted, but owned a mutual flame.

“Why should you wish to behold me?” he said; “have you any doubt of my love? have you any wish ungratified? If you saw me, perhaps you would fear me, perhaps adore me, but all I ask of you is to love me.

I would rather you would love me as an equal than adore me as a god.

”

After having disobeyed my mother’s commands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and cut off my head? But go; return to your sisters, whose advice you seem to think preferable to mine.

I inflict no other punishment on you than to leave you forever. Love cannot dwell with suspicion.

” So saying, he fled away, leaving poor Psyche prostrate on the ground, filling the place with mournful lamentations.

… soul so striking and beautiful as the butterfly, bursting on brilliant wings from the tomb in which it has lain, after a dull, grovelling, caterpillar existence, to flutter in the blaze of day and feed on the most fragrant and delicate productions of the spring.

Psyche, then, is the human soul, which is purified by sufferings and misfortunes, and is thus prepared for the enjoyment of true and pure happiness.

In works of art Psyche is represented as a maiden with the wings of a butterfly, along with Cupid, in the different situations described in the allegory.

“What heart had I left me, during all this, or what ought I to have had, except to hate life and wish to be with my dead subjects?

On all sides lay my people strewn like over-ripened apples beneath the tree, or acorns under the storm-shaken oak.

You see yonder a temple on the height. It is sacred to Jupiter. O how many offered prayers there, husbands for wives, fathers for sons, and died in the very act of supplication!

The tree shook and gave a rustling sound with its branches, though no wind agitated them. I trembled in every limb, yet I kissed the earth and the tree.

I would not confess to myself that I hoped, yet I did hope.

Night came on and sleep took possession of my frame oppressed with cares. The tree stood before me in my dreams, with its numerous branches all covered with living, moving creatures.

When Juno discovered it, she passed sentence upon Echo in these words: “You shall forfeit the use of that tongue with which you have cheated me, except for that one purpose you are so fond of—reply.

You shall still have the last word, but no power to speak first.

”

He left her, and she went to hide her blushes in the recesses of the woods. From that time forth she lived in caves and among mountain cliffs. Her form faded with grief, till at last all her flesh shrank away.

Her bones were changed into rocks and there was nothing left of her but her voice.

With that she is still ready to reply to anyone who calls her, and keeps up her old habit of having the last word.

He stood gazing with admiration at those bright eyes, those locks curled like the locks of Bacchus or Apollo, the rounded cheeks, the ivory neck, the parted lips, and the glow of health and exercise over all.

He fell in love with himself.

He brought his lips near to take a kiss; he plunged his arms in to embrace the beloved object. It fled at the touch, but returned again after a moment and renewed the fascination. He could not tear himself away;

“if beaten I will pay the penalty.” Minerva heard this and was displeased. She assumed the form of an old woman and went and gave Arachne some friendly advice. “I have had much experience,” said she, “and I hope you will not despise my counsel.

Challenge your fellow-mortals as you will, but do not compete with a goddess.

On the contrary, I advise you to ask her forgiveness for what you have said, and as she is merciful perhaps she will pardon you.” Arachne stopped her spinning and looked at the old dame with anger in her countenance.

That mortal was Arachne, a maiden who had attained such skill in the arts of weaving and embroidery that the nymphs themselves would leave their groves and fountains to come and gaze upon her work.

It was not only beautiful when it was done, but beautiful also in the doing.

To watch her, as she took the wool in its rude state and formed it into rolls, or separated it with her fingers and carded it till it looked as light and soft as a cloud, or twirled the spindle with skilful touch, or wove …

Have I not cause for pride? Will you prefer to me this Latona, the Titan’s daughter, with her two children? I have seven times as many. Fortunate indeed am I, and fortunate I shall remain! Will anyone deny this?

My abundance is my security. I feel myself too strong for Fortune to subdue.

She may take from me much; I shall still have much left. Were I to lose some of my children, I should hardly be left as poor as Latona with her two only.

Raising her pallid arms to heaven, “Cruel Latona,” said she, “feed full your rage with my anguish! Satiate your hard heart, while I follow to the grave my seven sons. Yet where is your triumph?

Bereaved as I am, I am still richer than you, my conqueror.

” Scarce had she spoken, when the bow sounded and struck terror into all hearts except Niobe’s alone. She was brave from excess of grief. The sisters stood in garments of mourning over the biers of their dead brothers.

The virgin shrieked, the father and mother who had now arrived at the scene, wretched both, but the mother more justly so, stood by, not able to afford protection, but only to pour forth lamentations and to embrace the victim. Then spoke Perseus: “

There will be time enough for tears; this hour is all we have for rescue.

My rank as the son of Jove and my renown as the slayer of the Gorgon might make me acceptable as a suitor; but I will try to win her by services rendered, if the gods will only be propitious.

Perseus and his friends maintained for some time the unequal contest; but the numbers of the assailants were too great for them, and destruction seemed inevitable, when a sudden thought struck Perseus—“

I will make my enemy defend me.

” Then with a loud voice he exclaimed, “If I have any friend here let him turn away his eyes!” and held aloft the Gorgon’s head.

… with his friends and Medea accompanying, hastened to their vessel before Aeëtes the king could arrest their departure, and made the best of their way back to Thessaly, where they arrived safe, and Jason delivered the fleece to Pelias, and dedicated the Argo to Neptune.

What became of the fleece afterwards we do not know, but perhaps it was found after all, like many other golden prizes, not worth the trouble it had cost to procure it.

This is one of those mythological tales, says a late writer, in which there is reason to believe that a substratum of truth exists, though overlaid by a mass of fiction.

He was the father of the Hesperides, and Hercules thought he might, if anyone could, find the apples and bring them to him.

But how to send Atlas away from his post, or bear up the heavens while he was gone?

Hercules took the burden on his own shoulders, and sent Atlas to seek the apples. He returned with them, and though somewhat reluctantly, took his burden upon his shoulders again, and let Hercules return with the apples to Eurystheus.

Jupiter enveloped him in a cloud, and took him up in a four-horse chariot to dwell among the stars.

As he took his place in heaven, Atlas felt the added weight.

Juno, now reconciled to him, gave him her daughter Hebe in marriage.

But now I say to you, Fear not. He who conquered all else is not to be conquered by those flames which you see blazing on Mount Oeta.

Only his mother’s share in him can perish; what he derived from me is immortal.

I shall take him, dead to earth, to the heavenly shores, and I require of you all to receive him kindly. If any of you feel grieved at his attaining this honor, yet no one can deny that he has deserved it.”

Keep near me and you will be safe.” While he gave him these instructions and fitted the wings to his shoulders, the face of the father was wet with tears, and his hands trembled.

He kissed the boy, not knowing that it was for the last time.

Then rising on his wings, he flew off, encouraging him to follow, and looked back from his own flight to see how his son managed his wings.

He contrived to make his escape from his prison, but could not leave the island by sea, as the king kept strict watch on all the vessels, and permitted none to sail without being carefully searched.

“Minos may control the land and sea,” said Daedalus, “but not the regions of the air. I will try that way.”

So he set to work to fabricate wings for himself and his young son Icarus. He wrought feathers together, beginning with the smallest and adding larger, so as to form an increasing surface.

Assuming the form of Beroë, her aged nurse, she insinuated doubts whether it was indeed Jove himself who came as a lover. Heaving a sigh, she said, “I hope it will turn out so, but I can’t help being afraid.

People are not always what they pretend to be.

If he is indeed Jove, make him give some proof of it. Ask him to come arrayed in all his splendors, such as he wears in heaven. That will put the matter beyond a doubt.” Semele was persuaded to try the experiment.

Dictys, one of my best hands for climbing the mast and coming down by the ropes, and Melanthus, my steersman, and Epopeus, the leader of the sailor’s cry, one and all exclaimed, ‘Spare your prayers for us.’

So blind is the lust of gain!

When they proceeded to put him on board I resisted them. ‘This ship shall not be profaned by such impiety,’ said I. ‘I have a greater share in her than any of you.’

Pan, like other gods who dwelt in forests, was dreaded by those whose occupations caused them to pass through the woods by night, for the gloom and loneliness of such scenes dispose the mind to superstitious fears.

Hence sudden fright without any visible cause was ascribed to Pan, and called a Panic terror.

As the name of the god signifies all, Pan came to be considered a symbol of the universe and personification of Nature; and later still to be regarded as a representative of all the gods and of heathenism itself.

“… In shadier bower, More sacred or sequestered, though but feigned, Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor nymph Nor Faunus haunted.”

It was a pleasing trait in the old Paganism that it loved to trace in every operation of nature the agency of deity.

The imagination of the Greeks peopled all the regions of earth and sea with divinities, to whose agency it attributed those phenomena which our philosophy ascribes to the operation of the laws of nature.

Without a moment’s delay he would have food set before him, of whatever kind earth, sea, or air produces; and complained of hunger even while he ate. What would have sufficed for a city or a nation, was not enough for him.

The more he ate the more he craved.

His hunger was like the sea, which receives all the rivers, yet is never filled; or like fire, that burns all the fuel that is heaped upon it, yet is still voracious for more.

and complained of hunger even while he ate. What would have sufficed for a city or a nation, was not enough for him. The more he ate the more he craved.

His hunger was like the sea, which receives all the rivers, yet is never filled; or like fire, that burns all the fuel that is heaped upon it, yet is still voracious for more.

His property rapidly diminished under the unceasing demands of his appetite, but his hunger continued unabated. At length he had spent all and had only his daughter left, a daughter worthy of a better parent. Her too he sold.

Theseus asked him the cause of his grief, and how he lost his horn. To which question the river-god replied as follows: “

Who likes to tell of his defeats?

Yet I will not hesitate to relate mine, comforting myself with the thought of the greatness of my conqueror, for it was Hercules. Perhaps you have heard of the fame of Dejanira, the fairest of maidens, whom a host of suitors strove to win.

Ulysses gave Penelope her choice, to stay or go with him.

Penelope made no reply, but dropped her veil over her face.

Icarius urged her no further, but when she was gone erected a statue to Modesty on the spot where they parted.

One of her arts of delay was engaging in the preparation of a robe for the funeral canopy of Laertes, her husband’s father. She pledged herself to make her choice among the suitors when the robe was finished.

During the day she worked at the robe, but in the night she undid the work of the day.

This is the famous Penelope’s web, which is used as a proverbial expression for anything which is perpetually doing but never done. The rest of Penelope’s history will be told when we give an account of her husband’s adventures.

I come not to spy out the secrets of Tartarus, nor to try my strength against the three-headed dog with snaky hair who guards the entrance. I come to seek my wife, whose opening years the poisonous viper’s fang has brought to an untimely end.

Love has led me here, Love, a god all powerful with us who dwell on the earth, and, if old traditions say true, not less so here.

I implore you by these abodes full of terror, these realms of silence and uncreated things, unite again the thread of Eurydice’s life. We all are destined to you, and sooner or later must pass to your domain.

… passages dark and steep, in total silence, till they had nearly reached the outlet into the cheerful upper world, when Orpheus, in a moment of forgetfulness, to assure himself that she was still following, cast a glance behind him, when instantly she was borne away.

Stretching out their arms to embrace each other, they grasped only the air!

Dying now a second time, she yet cannot reproach her husband, for how can she blame his impatience to behold her? “Farewell,” she said, “a last farewell,”—and was hurried away, so fast that the sound hardly reached his ears.

Stretching out their arms to embrace each other, they grasped only the air!

Dying now a second time, she yet cannot reproach her husband, for how can she blame his impatience to behold her?

“Farewell,” she said, “a last farewell,”—and was hurried away, so fast that the sound hardly reached his ears.

O Earth, open and receive us!” Then Periander spoke. “He lives, the master of the lay! Kind Heaven protects the poet’s life. As for you, I invoke not the spirit of vengeance; Arion wishes not your blood.

Ye slaves of avarice, begone! Seek some barbarous land, and never may aught beautiful delight your souls!

”

But what trace or mark shall point out the perpetrator from amidst the vast multitude attracted by the splendor of the feast? Did he fall by the hands of robbers or did some private enemy slay him?

The all-discerning sun alone can tell, for no other eye beheld it.

Yet not improbably the murderer even now walks in the midst of the throng, and enjoys the fruits of his crime, while vengeance seeks for him in vain.

… the young poet, his fancy and his heart seeking in vain for that which can satisfy them, finding his favorite hour in the quiet moonlight, and nursing there beneath the beams of the bright and silent witness the melancholy and the ardor which consumes him.

The story suggests aspiring and poetic love, a life spent more in dreams than in reality, and an early and welcome death.

—S. G. B.

Every year at the anniversary of his death they return and celebrate his obsequies in like manner. Aurora remains inconsolable for the loss of her son.

Her tears still flow, and may be seen at early morning in the form of dewdrops on the grass.

Unlike most of the marvels of ancient mythology, there still exist some memorials of this. On the banks of the river Nile, in Egypt, are two colossal statues, one of which is said to be the statue of Memnon.

Minerva was the goddess of wisdom, but on one occasion she did a very foolish thing; she entered into competition with Juno and Venus for the prize of beauty.

It happened thus: At the nuptials of Peleus and Thetis all the gods were invited with the exception of Eris, or Discord. Enraged at her exclusion, the goddess threw a golden apple among the guests, with the inscription, “For the fairest.”

While they hesitate, Laocoön, the priest of Neptune exclaims, “What madness, citizens, is this? Have you not learned enough of Grecian fraud to be on your guard against it?

For my part, I fear the Greeks even when they offer gifts.

” So saying he threw his lance at the horse’s side. It struck, and a hollow sound reverberated like a groan. Then perhaps the people might have taken his advice and destroyed the fatal horse and all its contents;

He, bellowing, called aloud on all the Cyclopes dwelling in the caves around him, far and near. They on his cry flocked round the den, and inquired what grievous hurt had caused him to sound such an alarm and break their slumbers. He replied, “

O friends, I die, and Noman gives the blow.

” They answered, “If no man hurts thee it is the stroke of Jove, and thou must bear it.” So saying, they left him groaning.

The princess replied courteously, promising present relief and her father’s hospitality when he should become acquainted with the facts. She called back her scattered maidens, chiding their alarm, and reminding them that the Phaeacians had no enemies to fear.

This man, she told them, was an unhappy wanderer, whom it was a duty to cherish, for the poor and stranger are from Jove.

She bade them bring food and clothing, for some of her brother’s garments were among the contents of the wagon.

The Sibyl replied, “

The descent to Avernus is easy: the gate of Pluto stands open night and day; but to retrace one’s steps and return to the upper air, that is the toil, that the difficulty.

” She instructed him to seek in the forest a tree on which grew a golden branch.

and Sisyphus, whose task was to roll a huge stone up to a hilltop, but when the steep was well-nigh gained, the rock, repulsed by some sudden force, rushed again headlong down to the plain.

Again he toiled at it, while the sweat bathed all his weary limbs, but all to no effect.

There was Tantalus, who stood in a pool, his chin level with the water, yet he was parched with thirst, and found nothing to assuage it;

O my son, how have I trembled for you as I have watched your career!” To which Aeneas replied, “O father! your image was always before me to guide and guard me.”

Then he endeavored to enfold his father in his embrace, but his arms enclosed only an unsubstantial image.

Aeneas perceived before him a spacious valley, with trees gently waving to the wind, a tranquil landscape, through which the river Lethe flowed. Along the banks of the stream wandered a countless multitude, numerous as insects in the summer air.

My youth and youthful strength fled long ago. I have lived seven hundred years, and to equal the number of the sand grains I have still to see three hundred springs and three hundred harvests.

My body shrinks up as years increase, and in time, I shall be lost to sight, but my voice will remain, and future ages will respect my sayings.

”

He promised me the fulfilment of my wish, if I would consent to be his. I took a handful of sand, and holding it forth, said, ‘Grant me to see as many birthdays as there are sand grains in my hand.’

Unluckily I forgot to ask for enduring youth.

This also he would have granted, could I have accepted his love, but offended at my refusal, he allowed me to grow old. My youth and youthful strength fled long ago.

This maiden had never accustomed her fingers to the distaff or the loom, but had learned to endure the toils of war, and in speed to outstrip the wind.

It seemed as if she might run over the standing corn without crushing it, or over the surface of the water without dipping her feet.

Camilla’s history had been singular from the beginning. Her father, Metabus, driven from his city by civil discord, carried with him in his flight his infant daughter.

but browsed like beasts upon the leafy boughs, or fed voraciously on their hunted prey. Such were they when Saturn, expelled from Olympus by his sons, came among them and drew together the fierce savages, formed them into society, and gave them laws.

Such peace and plenty ensued that men ever since have called his reign the golden age; but by degrees far other times succeeded, and the thirst of gold and the thirst of blood prevailed.

The land was a prey to successive tyrants, till fortune and resistless destiny brought me hither, an exile from my native land, Arcadia.”

turn your swords against me, Rutulians, I did it; he only followed me as a friend.” While he spoke the sword fell, and pierced the comely bosom of Euryalus.

His head fell over on his shoulder, like a flower cut down by the plough.

Nisus rushed upon Volscens and plunged his sword into his body, and was himself slain on the instant by numberless blows.

He was a Grecian by birth, who had left Argos, his native city, and followed Evander into Italy. The poet says of him with simple pathos which has made the words proverbial, “

He fell, unhappy, by a wound intended for another, looked up at the skies, and dying remembered sweet Argos.

” Aeneas now in turn hurled his lance. It pierced the shield of Mezentius, and wounded him in the thigh. Lausus, his son, could not bear the sight, but rushed forward and interposed himself, while the followers pressed round Mezentius and bore him away.

They were required to practise the greatest purity and simplicity of manners.

The first lesson they learned was silence; for a time they were required to be only hearers.

“He [Pythagoras] said so” (Ipse dixit), was to be held by them as sufficient, without any proof. It was only the advanced pupils, after years of patient submission, who were allowed to ask questions and to state objections.

I myself can remember that in the time of the Trojan war I was Euphorbus, the son of Panthus, and fell by the spear of Menelaus. Lately being in the temple of Juno, at Argos, I recognized my shield hung up there among the trophies.

All things change, nothing perishes.

The soul passes hither and thither, occupying now this body, now that, passing from the body of a beast into that of a man, and thence to a beast’s again.

All things change, nothing perishes. The soul passes hither and thither, occupying now this body, now that, passing from the body of a beast into that of a man, and thence to a beast’s again.

As wax is stamped with certain figures, then melted, then stamped anew with others, yet is always the same wax, so the soul, being always the same, yet wears, at different times, different forms.

Therefore, if the love of kindred is not extinct in your bosoms, forbear, I entreat you, to violate the life of those who may haply be your own relatives.”

He was replied to a few years later by Alexander Ross, who says, in answer to the objection of the Phoenix so seldom making his appearance, “

His instinct teaches him to keep out of the way of the tyrant of the creation, man, for if he were to be got at, some wealthy glutton would surely devour him, though there were no more in the world.

”

These wonderful powers of the basilisk are attested by a host of learned persons, such as Galen, Avicenna, Scaliger, and others. Occasionally one would demur to some part of the tale while he admitted the rest. Jonston, a learned physician, sagely remarks, “

I would scarcely believe that it kills with its look, for who could have seen it and lived to tell the story?

” The worthy sage was not aware that those who went to hunt the basilisk of this sort took with them a mirror, which reflected back the deadly glare upon its author, and by a kind of poetical justice slew the basilisk with his own …

But what was to attack this terrible and unapproachable monster? There is an old saying that “everything has its enemy”—and the cockatrice quailed before the weasel.

The basilisk might look daggers, the weasel cared not, but advanced boldly to the conflict.

When bitten, the weasel retired for a moment to eat some rue, which was the only plant the basilisks could not wither, returned with renewed strength and soundness to the charge, and never left the enemy till he was stretched dead on the plain.

The flesh of the boar Schrimnir is served up to them, and is abundant for all.

For although this boar is cooked every morning, he becomes whole again every night.

For drink the heroes are supplied abundantly with mead from the she-goat Heidrum. When the heroes are not feasting they amuse themselves with fighting. Every day they ride out into the court or field and fight until they cut each other in pieces.

He requires less sleep than a bird, and sees by night as well as by day a hundred miles around him.

So acute is his ear that no sound escapes him, for he can even hear the grass grow and the wool on a sheep’s back.

There is another deity who is described as the calumniator of the gods and the contriver of all fraud and mischief. His name is Loki. He is handsome and well made, but of a very fickle mood and most evil disposition.

Hela he cast into Niffleheim, and gave her power over nine worlds or regions, into which she distributes those who are sent to her; that is, all who die of sickness or old age. Her hall is called Elvidner.

Hunger is her table, Starvation her knife, Delay her man, Slowness her maid, Precipice her threshold, Care her bed, and Burning Anguish forms the hangings of the apartments.

She may easily be recognized, for her body is half flesh color and half blue, and she has a dreadfully stern and forbidding countenance.

There is another deity who is described as the calumniator of the gods and the contriver of all fraud and mischief. His name is Loki.

He is handsome and well made, but of a very fickle mood and most evil disposition.

He is of the giant race, but forced himself into the company of the gods, and seems to take pleasure in bringing them into difficulties, and in extricating them out of the danger by his cunning, wit, and skill. Loki has three children.

The wolf Fenris gave the gods a great deal of trouble before they succeeded in chaining him.

He broke the strongest fetters as if they were made of cobwebs.

Finally the gods sent a messenger to the mountain spirits, who made for them the chain called Gleipnir.

In the first, Loki, like hunger itself, devoured all that was set before him, but Logi was in reality nothing else than Fire, and therefore consumed not only the meat, but the trough which held it.

Hugi, with whom Thialfi contended in running, was Thought, and it was impossible for Thialfi to keep pace with that.

When thou in thy turn didst attempt to empty the horn, thou didst perform, by my troth, a deed so marvellous that had I not seen it myself I should never have believed it.

… floor, we were all of us terror-stricken, for what thou tookest for a cat was in reality the Midgard serpent that encompasseth the earth, and he was so stretched by thee that he was barely long enough to enclose it between his head and tail.

Thy wrestling with Elli was also a most astonishing feat, for there was never yet a man, nor ever will be, whom Old Age, for such in fact was Elli, will not sooner or later lay low.

But now, as we are going to part, let me tell thee that it will be better for both of us if thou never come near me again, for shouldst thou do so, I shall again defend myself by other illusions, so that thou wilt …

Loki and Heimdall meet and fight till they are both slain. The gods and their enemies having fallen in battle, Surtur, who has killed Freyr, darts fire and flames over the world, and the whole universe is burned up.

The sun becomes dim, the earth sinks into the ocean, the stars fall from heaven, and time is no more.

After this Alfadur (the Almighty) will cause a new heaven and a new earth to arise out of the sea. The new earth filled with abundant supplies will spontaneously produce its fruits without labor or care.

These are the circular Cairns which are found in various parts, and which seem to have been of Druidical origin. It is in reference to all these remains of ancient religion that Johnson exclaims, “

That man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer amid the ruins of Iona.

”

He then knelt again before the president, who, rising from his seat, gave him the “accolade,” which consisted of three strokes, with the flat of a sword, on the shoulder or neck of the candidate, accompanied by the words:

“In the name of God, of St. Michael, and St. George, I make thee a knight; be valiant, courteous, and loyal!”

Then he received his helmet, his shield, and spear; and thus the investiture ended.

But Cordeilla, the youngest, and hitherto the best beloved, though having before her eyes the reward of a little easy soothing, and the loss likely to attend plain-dealing, yet was not moved from the solid purpose of a sincere and virtuous answer, and replied:

“Father, my love towards you is as my duty bids. They who pretend beyond this flatter.”

When the old man, sorry to hear this, and wishing her to recall these words, persisted in asking, she still restrained her expressions so as to say rather less than more than the truth. Then Leir, all in a passion, burst forth:

But at length the sword of the knight smote King Arthur’s sword in two pieces. Then said the knight unto Arthur, “Thou art in my power, whether to save thee or slay thee, and unless thou yield thee as overcome and recreant, thou shalt die.”

“As for death,” said King Arthur, “welcome be it when it cometh; but to yield me unto thee as recreant, I will not.”

Then he leapt upon the knight, and took him by the middle and threw him down; but the knight was a passing strong man, and anon he brought Arthur under him, and would have razed off his helm to slay him.

He candidly confessed it was on account of three things, her age, her ugliness, and her low degree. The lady, not at all offended, replied with excellent arguments to all his objections.

She showed him that with age is discretion, with ugliness security from rivals, and that all true gentility depends, not upon the accident of birth, but upon the character of the individual.

Sir Gawain made no reply; but, turning his eyes on his bride, what was his amazement to perceive that she wore no longer the unseemly aspect that had so distressed him.

“Do you do this as one of the best knights?” said the stranger.

“No,” he replied, “but as one of the most foolish.”

The stranger lays his head upon the block, receives a blow which sends it rolling from his shoulders, walks after it, picks it up, replaces it with great success, and says he will return when the court shall be assembled next year, and claim his …

But Sir Gawain’s spear broke, and Sir Launcelot charged so sore upon him that his horse fell over backward. Then Sir Launcelot passed by smiling with himself, and he said,

“Good luck be with him that made this spear, for never came a better into my hand.”

Then the four knights went each to the other and comforted one another. “What say ye to this adventure,” said Sir Gawain, “that one spear hath felled us all four?” “I dare lay my head it is Sir Launcelot,” said Sir Hector;

“That were shame unto thee,” said Sir Launcelot; “thou an armed knight to slay a naked man by treason.” “Thou gettest none other grace,” said Sir Phelot, “and therefore help thyself if thou canst.”

“Alas!” said Sir Launcelot, “that ever a knight should die weaponless!”

And therewith he turned his eyes upward and downward; and over his head he saw a big bough leafless, and he brake it off from the trunk. And then he came lower, and watched how his own horse stood;

And they shot at him and smote his horse so that he fell. Then Sir Launcelot left his horse and went on foot, but there lay so many ditches and hedges betwixt the archers and him that he might not meddle with them.

“Alas! for shame,” said Sir Launcelot, “that ever one knight should betray another! but it is an old saw, a good man is never in danger, but when he is in danger of a coward.”

Then Sir Launcelot went awhile and he was exceedingly cumbered by his armor, his shield, and his spear, and all that belonged to him. Then by chance there came by him a cart that came thither to fetch wood.

Tristram fought with Blaanor, and overthrew him, and held his life in his power. The fallen warrior called on him to use his right of conquest, and strike the fatal blow.

“God forbid,” said Tristram, “that I should take the life of so brave a knight!”

He raised him up and restored him to his friends. The judges of the field decided that the king of Ireland was acquitted of the charge against him, and they led Tristram in triumph to his tent.

Isoude and Tristram embarked together. A favorable wind filled the sails, and promised them a fortunate voyage. The lovers gazed upon one another, and could not repress their sighs.

Love seemed to light up all his fires on their lips, as in their hearts.

The day was warm; they suffered from thirst. Isoude first complained. Tristram descried the bottle containing the love-draught, which Brengwain had been so imprudent as to leave in sight. He took it, gave some of it to the charming Isoude, and drank the remainder himself.

and come thou not in future in any place where I am.” Palamedes burst into tears. “Ah, lady,” said he, “I will obey you; but I beseech you that you will not forever steel your heart against me.”

“Palamedes,” she replied, “may I never taste of joy again if I ever quit my first love.”

Palamedes then went his way. The lovers remained a week in concealment, after which Tristram restored Isoude to her husband, advising him in future to reward minstrels in some other way.

Then Perceval returned to his mother, and said to her,

“Mother, those were not angels, but honorable knights.”

Then his mother swooned away. And Perceval went to the place where they kept the horses that carried firewood and provisions for the castle, and he took a bony, piebald horse, which seemed to him the strongest of them.

Upon this the knight ran at him furiously, and struck him a violent blow with the shaft of his spear, between the neck and the shoulder.

“Ha, ha, lad!” said Perceval, “my mother’s servants were not used to play with me in this wise; so thus will I play with thee.”

And he threw at him one of his sharp-pointed sticks, and it struck him in the eye, and came out at the back of his head, so that he fell down lifeless.

“Sir,” said one of the monks, “he will not be of your fellowship.” “Why?” said Sir Gawain.

“Sir,” said he, “because ye be sinful, and he is blissful.”

Then said the monk, “Sir Gawain, thou must do penance for thy sins.” “Sir, what penance shall I do?” “Such as I will show,” said the good man.

“Why?” said Sir Gawain. “Sir,” said he, “because ye be sinful, and he is blissful.” Then said the monk, “Sir Gawain, thou must do penance for thy sins.” “Sir, what penance shall I do?” “Such as I will show,” said the good man.

“Nay,” said Sir Gawain, “I will do no penance, for we knights adventurous often suffer great woe and pain.”

“Well,” said the good man; and he held his peace. And Sir Gawain departed.

Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wide forest, and held no path but as wild adventure led him.

“My golden spurs now bring to me, And bring to me my richest mail, For tomorrow I go over land and sea In search of the Holy, Holy Grail.

And then Sir Launcelot promised the hermit, by his faith, that he would no more come in her company.

“Look that your heart and your mouth accord,” said the good man, “and I shall insure you that ye shall have more worship than ever ye had.”

Then the good man enjoined Sir Launcelot such penance as he might do, and he assailed Sir Launcelot and made him abide with him all that day. And Sir Launcelot repented him greatly.

then he set hands to his sword, and drew it. Then there came suddenly as it were a stroke upon the arm, so sore that the sword fell out of his hand, and he heard a voice that said,

“O man of evil faith, wherefore believest thou more in thy armor than in thy Maker?”

Then said Sir Launcelot, “Fair Lord, I thank thee of thy great mercy, that thou reprovest me of my misdeed; now see I well that thou holdest me for thy servant.” Then he made a cross on his forehead, and came to the lions;

And after twenty-four days he opened his eyes; and when he saw folk he made great sorrow, and said, “Why have ye wakened me? for I was better at ease than I am now.” “What have ye seen?” said they about him.

“I have seen,” said he, “great marvels that no tongue can tell, and more than any heart can think.”

Then they said, “Sir, the quest of the Sangreal is achieved right now in you, and never shall ye see more of it than ye have seen.”

then said Sir Gawain; “now turn again and slay me, for if thou leave me thus when I am whole again, I shall do battle with thee again.” “I shall endure you, sir, by God’s grace,” said Sir Launcelot, “but know thou well Sir Gawain,

I will never smite a felled knight.

” And so Sir Launcelot went into the city, and Sir Gawain was borne into King Arthur’s pavilion, and his wounds were looked to.

the one was King Arthur’s sister, Queen Morgane le Fay; the other was Viviane, the Lady of the Lake; and the third was the queen of North Galis. And this tale Sir Bedivere, knight of the Table Round, made to be written.

Yet some men say that King Arthur is not dead, but hid away into another place, and men say that he shall come again and reign over England.

But many say that there is written on his tomb this verse:

“Ah, Sir Launcelot!” he said, “there thou liest. And now I dare to say thou wert never matched of none earthly knight’s hand.

And thou wert the courteousest knight that ever bare shield; and thou wert the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse; and thou wert the truest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman; and thou wert the kindest man that ever struck with sword.

And thou wert the goodliest person that ever came among press of knights. And thou wert the meekest man, and the gentlest, that ever ate in hall among ladies.

“Now,” quoth Owain, “would it not be well to go and endeavor to discover that place?”

“By the hand of my friend,” said Kay, “often dost thou utter that with thy tongue which thou wouldest not make good with thy deeds.”

“In very truth,” said Guenever, “it were better thou wert hanged, Kay, than to use such uncourteous speech towards a man like Owain.”

And, following the train, he beheld a lady with yellow hair falling over her shoulders, and stained with blood; and about her a dress of yellow satin, which was torn. Upon her feet were shoes of variegated leather.

And it was a marvel that the ends of her fingers were not bruised from the violence with which she smote her hands together.

Truly she would have been the fairest lady Owain ever saw, had she been in her usual guise. And her cry was louder than the shout of the men or the clamor of the trumpets.

“I hear something following us,” said he, “and I will put thee on the other side of the hedge.” And thus he did. And thereupon, behold a knight pricked towards him, and couched his lance. When Enid saw this, she cried out, saying, “

O chieftain, whoever thou art, what renown wilt thou gain by slaying a dead man?

” “O Heaven!” said he, “is it Geraint?” “Yes, in truth,” said she; “and who art thou?” “I am Gwiffert Petit,” said he, “thy husband’s ally, coming to thy assistance, for I heard that thou wast in trouble.

“The lady whom best I love is to be thy bride this night; I come to ask her of thee, with the feast and the banquet that are in this place.” And Pwyll was silent, because of the promise which he had given.

“Be silent as long as thou wilt,” said Rhiannon, “never did man make worse use of his wits than thou hast done.”

“Lady,” said he, “I knew not who he was.” “Behold, this is the man to whom they would have given me against my will,” said she;

And thus sat they: the king of the Island of the Mighty and Manawyddan, the son of Llyr, on one side, and Matholch on the other side, and Branwen, the daughter of Llyr, beside him. And they were not within a house, but under tents.

No house could ever contain Bendigeid Vran.

And they began the banquet, and caroused and discoursed. And when it was more pleasing to them to sleep than to carouse, they went to rest, and Branwen became Matholch’s bride.

And he did so; and it was thus for no less than three years.

And Branwen reared a starling in the cover of the kneading-trough, and she taught it to speak, and she taught the bird what manner of man her brother was.

And she wrote a letter of her woes, and the despite with which she was treated, and she bound the letter to the root of the bird’s wing, and sent it toward Wales. And the bird came to that island;

“Alas!” said they; “what is the mountain that is seen by the side of the ships?” “Bendigeid Vran, my brother,” she replied, “coming to shoal water, and he is wading to the land.” “What is the lofty ridge, with the lake on each side thereof?”

“On looking towards this island he is wroth, and his two eyes on each side of his nose are the two lakes on each side of the ridge.”

The warriors and chief men of Ireland were brought together in haste, and they took counsel. “Lord,” said the neighbors unto Matholch, “there is no other counsel than this alone.

And Branwen was the eighth with them. And they came to land on Aber Alaw, and they sat down to rest. And Branwen looked towards Ireland, and towards the Island of the Mighty, to see if she could descry them.

“Alas!” said she, “woe is me that I was ever born; two islands have been destroyed because of me.”

Then she uttered a groan, and there broke her heart. And they made her a four-sided grave, and buried her upon the banks of the Alaw.

And as he entered, Rhiannon looked at him. “Where,” said she, “are thy companion and thy dogs?” “Behold,” he answered, “the adventure that has befallen me.” And he related it all unto her.

“An evil companion hast thou been,” said Rhiannon, “and a good companion hast thou lost.”

And with that word she went out, and proceeded towards the castle, according to the direction which he gave her. The gate of the castle she found open. She was nothing daunted, and she went in.

“Verily,” said he, “this will I reap tomorrow.” And on the morrow he came with the intent to reap it; and when he came there, he found nothing but the bare straw. “O gracious Heaven!” he exclaimed. “

I know that whosoever has begun my ruin is completing it, and has also destroyed the country with me.

”

And there was precious gold of the value of three hundred kine upon his shoes, and upon his stirrups, from his knee to the tip of his toe.

And the blade of grass bent not beneath him, so light was his courser’s tread, as he journeyed toward the gate of Arthur’s palace.

Spoke the youth: “Is there a porter?” “There is; and if thou holdest not thy peace, small will be thy welcome. I am Arthur’s porter every first day of January.” “Open the portal.” “I will not open it.” “Wherefore not?”

Said Kay: “By the hand of my friend, if thou wouldst follow my counsel, thou wouldst not break through the laws of the court because of him.”

“Not so, blessed Kay,” said Arthur; “it is an honor to us to be resorted to, and the greater our courtesy, the greater will be our renown and our fame and our glory.”

And Glewlwyd came to the gate, and opened the gate before Kilwich; and although all dismounted upon the horse-block at the gate, yet did he not dismount, but he rode in upon his charger.

And Kay snatched a billet out of the pile. And when she met them, she sought to throw her arms about their necks. And Kay placed the log between her two hands, and she squeezed it so that it became a twisted coil.

“O woman,” said Kay, “if thou hadst squeezed me thus, none could ever again have set their affections on me. Evil love were this.”

They entered into the house and were served; and soon after, they all went forth to amuse themselves. Then the woman opened a stone chest that was before the chimney-corner, and out of it arose a youth with yellow, curling hair.

More yellow was her head than the flower of the broom, and her skin was whiter than the foam of the wave, and fairer were her hands and her fingers than the blossoms of the wood-anemone amidst the spray of the meadow fountain.

The eye of the trained hawk was not brighter than hers.

Her bosom was more snowy than the breast of the white swan, her cheek was redder than the reddest roses. Whoso beheld her was filled with her love. Four white trefoils sprung up wherever she trod. And therefore was she called Olwen.

The eye of the trained hawk was not brighter than hers. Her bosom was more snowy than the breast of the white swan, her cheek was redder than the reddest roses.

Whoso beheld her was filled with her love.

Four white trefoils sprung up wherever she trod. And therefore was she called Olwen.

The eye of the trained hawk was not brighter than hers. Her bosom was more snowy than the breast of the white swan, her cheek was redder than the reddest roses. Whoso beheld her was filled with her love.

Four white trefoils sprung up wherever she trod. And therefore was she called Olwen.

She entered the house and sat beside Kilwich upon the foremost bench; and as soon as he saw her, he knew her. And Kilwich said unto her, “Ah! maiden, thou art she whom I have loved;

“Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get—the sword of Gwernach the Giant; of his own free will he will not give it, and thou wilt never be able to compel him.”

“It will be easy for me to compass this, although thou mayest think it will not be easy.”

“Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. Difficulties shalt thou meet with, and nights without sleep, in seeking this, and if thou obtain it not, neither shalt thou obtain my daughter.”

“What was that?” said Gwyddno. “A bard,” said Elphin. Then said Gwyddno, “Alas! what will he profit thee?” And Taliesin himself replied and said,

“He will profit him more than the weir ever profited thee.”

Asked Gwyddno, “Art thou able to speak, and thou so little?” And Taliesin answered him, “I am better able to speak than thou to question me.” “Let me hear what thou canst say,” quoth Gwyddno. Then Taliesin sang:

said Gwyddno. “A bard,” said Elphin. Then said Gwyddno, “Alas! what will he profit thee?” And Taliesin himself replied and said, “He will profit him more than the weir ever profited thee.” Asked Gwyddno, “Art thou able to speak, and thou so little?”

And Taliesin answered him, “I am better able to speak than thou to question me.”

“Let me hear what thou canst say,” quoth Gwyddno. Then Taliesin sang:

And in this manner did he set his master free from prison, and protect the innocence of his mistress, and silence the bards so that not one of them dared to say a word.

Right glad was Elphin, right glad was Taliesin.

The champion, however, showed no signs of failing or retreat. He sat sorrowfully in his place, and with a sigh said to King Conor as they waited: “Do not leave this place till all is over.

Death is coming to me very surely, but I must fulfil my agreement, for I would rather die than break my word.

”

“Here I am,” was the reply.

“Ah, poor boy! your speech is sad tonight, and the fear of death lies heavy on you; but at least you have redeemed your word and have not failed me.”

The youth rose from his seat and went towards him, as he stood with the great axe ready, and knelt to receive the blow.

The hero of Ulster laid his head on the block; but the giant was not satisfied. “Stretch out your neck better,” said he.

“You are playing with me, to torment me,” said Cuchulain. “Slay me now speedily, for I did not keep you waiting last night.”

However, he stretched out his neck as ordered, and the stranger raised his axe till it crashed upwards through the rafters of the hall, like the crash of trees falling in a storm.

and, lastly, they surrounded his death with a halo of desperate fighting, and made his last conflict as wonderful as that of Roland at Roncesvalles.

If Roland is the ideal of Norman feudal chivalry, Hereward is equally the ideal of Anglo-Saxon sturdy manliness and knighthood.

An account of one of Hereward’s adventures as a youth will serve as illustration of the stories told of his prowess.

“

Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions.

‘An your highness were to hang me,’ he said, ‘a man can but do his best. Nevertheless, my grandsire drew a good bow—’

This was the celebrated battle of Tours, in which vast numbers of the Saracens were slain, and only fifteen hundred of the Franks.

Charles received the surname of Martel (the Hammer) in consequence of this victory.

The Saracens, notwithstanding this severe blow, continued to hold their ground in the south of France; but Pepin, the son of Charles Martel, who succeeded to his father’s power, and assumed the title of king, successively took from them the strong places they held;

Those who went before the monarch, those who marched at his side, and those who followed him, all had similar arms.

Iron covered the fields and the roads; iron points reflected the rays of the sun. This iron, so hard, was borne by a people whose hearts were harder still.

The blaze of the weapons flashed terror into the streets of the city.”

This picture of Charlemagne in his military aspect would be incomplete without a corresponding one of his “mood of peace.”

One of the greatest of modern historians, M. Guizot, has compared the glory of Charlemagne to a brilliant meteor, rising suddenly out of the darkness of barbarism to disappear no less suddenly in the darkness of feudalism.

But the light of this meteor was not extinguished, and reviving civilization owed much that was permanently beneficial to the great Emperor of the Franks. His ruling hand is seen in the legislation of his time, as well as in the administration of the laws.

No sooner had Bayard touched the ground than all his rage subsided.

No longer an object of terror, he became gentle and quiet, yet with dignity in his mildness.

The paladin patted his neck, stroked his breast, and smoothed his mane, while the animal neighed and showed delight to be caressed by his master.

There was plenty of marble in the mountains, the king furnished workmen, and they built a castle for Rinaldo, surrounded with high walls, so as to be almost impregnable.

Built of white stone, and placed on the brow of a marble promontory, the castle shone like a star, and Rinaldo gave it the name of Montalban.

Here he assembled his friends, many of whom were banished men like himself, and the country people furnished them with provisions in return for the protection the castle afforded.

… and his paladins, rejoicing in the thought of their number and their might, while all were sitting and hearing music, and feasting, when suddenly there came into the hall four enormous giants, having between them a lady of incomparable beauty, attended by a single knight.

There were many ladies present who had seemed beautiful till she made her appearance, but after that they all seemed nothing.

Every Christian knight turned his eyes to her, and every Pagan crowded round her, while she, with a sweetness that might have touched a heart of stone, thus addressed the Emperor:

Rinaldo turned as red as fire, while Malagigi, who had discovered by his art that the stranger was not speaking truth, muttered softly, as he looked at her,

“Exquisite false creature! I will play thee such a trick for this, as will leave thee no cause to boast of thy visit.”

Charlemagne, to detain her as long as possible before him, delayed his assent till he had asked her a number of questions, all which she answered discreetly, and then the challenge was accepted.

The other fountain was endowed with exactly opposite qualities, and a draught of it inspired love for the first living object that was seen after tasting it.

Rinaldo happened to come to the first mentioned fountain, and, being flushed with heat, dismounted, and quenched in one draught both his thirst and his passion.

So far from loving Angelica as before he hated her from the bottom of his heart, became disgusted with the search he was upon, and, feeling fatigued with his ride, finding a sheltered and flowery nook, laid himself down and fell asleep.

As Angelica thus lay, fortune conducted Orlando to the same place. The attitude in which she was sleeping was so lovely that it is not to be conceived, much less expressed. Orlando stood gazing like a man who had been transported to another sphere.

“Am I on earth,” he exclaimed, “or am I in Paradise? Surely it is I that sleep, and this is my dream.”

But his dream was proved to be none in a manner which he little desired. Ferrau, who had slain Argalia, came up, raging with jealousy, and a combat ensued which awoke the sleeper.

My boyhood was therefore passed, as it should be, in horsemanship and hunting, and learning to fight. What is the good of a gentleman’s poring all day over a book?

Prowess to the knight, and preaching to the clergyman, that is my motto.

”

You might as well ask me to tear away the limbs from my body, and the eyes out of my head.

I could as well live without breath itself as cease loving Angelica.

”

Orlando seeing the infidel getting up, and not being sure that he would not add treachery to fierceness, had been hardly less quick in mounting for the combat.

“Never,” exclaimed he; “I never could have quitted her if I would, and now I would not if I could. You must seek her by other means than these.”

Fiercely dashed their horses together, in the nighttime, on the green mead. Despiteful and terrible were the blows they gave and took by the moonlight. Agrican fought in a rage, Orlando was cooler.

It cut the shield in two as if it had been made of wood, and, though blood could not be drawn from Orlando, because he was fated, it shook and bruised him as if it had started every joint in his body.

His body only, however, not a particle of his soul.

So dreadful was the blow which the paladin gave in return, that not only shield, but every bit of mail on the body of Agrican was broken in pieces, and three of his ribs cut asunder.

I have been fighting hour after hour with this man, and he is but one, and I call myself Orlando! If the combat last any longer I will bury myself in a monastery, and never look on sword again.”

Orlando muttered with his lips closed and his teeth ground together; and you might have thought that fire instead of breath came out of his nose and mouth.

He raised his sword Durindana with both his hands, and sent it down so tremendously on Agrican’s shoulder that it cut through breastplate down to the very haunch, nay, crushed the saddlebow, though it was made of bone and iron, and felled man and horse …

He called Orlando to come close to him, with a gentle voice, and said, as well as he could: “I believe on Him who died on the cross. Baptize me, I pray thee, with the fountain, before my senses are gone.

I have lived an evil life, but need not be rebellious to God in death also.

May He who came to save all the rest of the world save me!” And he shed tears, that great king, though he had been so lofty and fierce.

Baptize me, I pray thee, with the fountain, before my senses are gone. I have lived an evil life, but need not be rebellious to God in death also. May He who came to save all the rest of the world save me!”

And he shed tears, that great king, though he had been so lofty and fierce.

Orlando dismounted quickly, with his own face in tears.

While Orlando stood in silence contemplating her beauty he heard a voice exclaim:

“Seize the fairy by the forelock, if thou hopest fair success.”

But his attention was arrested by another object, and he heeded not the warning.

While he thus pursued, a pale and meagre woman issued from a cave, armed with a whip, and, treading close upon his steps, scourged him with vigorous strokes.

Her name was Repentance, and she told him it was her office to punish those who neglected to obey the voice of Prudence, and seize the fairy Fortune when he might.

Orlando, furious at this chastisement, turned upon his tormentor, but might as well have stricken the wind.

Sacripant, dismounting from the palfrey, approached the fiery courser, and attempted to seize his bridle, but the disdainful animal, turning from him, launched at him a volley of kicks enough to have shattered a wall of marble.

Bayard then approached Angelica with an air as gentle and loving as a faithful dog could his master after a long separation.

For he remembered how she had caressed him, and even fed him, in Albracca. She took his bridle in her left hand, while with her right she patted his neck. The beautiful animal, gifted with wonderful intelligence, seemed to submit entirely.

But, turning his eyes toward a place where was heard a noise of arms, Sacripant beheld Rinaldo.

That hero now loves Angelica more than his life, and she flies him as the timid crane the falcon.

The fountain of which Angelica had drunk produced such an effect on the beautiful queen that, with distressed countenance and trembling voice, she conjured Sacripant not to wait the approach of Rinaldo, but to join her in flight.

From this moment the traitor sought only how he might be rid of the company of Bradamante, from whom he feared no good would come to him, but rather mortal injury, if his name and lineage became known to her.

For he judged her by his own base model, and, knowing his ill deserts, he feared to receive his due.

Bradamante, in spite of the summons to return to the army, could not resolve to leave her lover in captivity, and determined first to finish the adventure on which she was engaged.

Bradamante replied: “Old man, hope not to move me by your vain entreaties. It is precisely the liberty of Rogero that I require. You would keep him here in bondage and in slothful pleasure, to save him from a fate which you foresee.

Vain old man! how can you foresee his fate when you could not foresee your own?

You desire me to take your life. No, my arm and my soul refuse the request.” This said, she required the magician to go before, and guide her to the castle.

He had not advanced more than two miles when he saw before him the superb city of Alcina. It was surrounded with a wall of gold, which seemed to reach the skies.

I know that some think that this wall was not of real gold, but only the work of alchemy; it matters not; I prefer to think it gold, for it certainly shone like gold.

A broad and level road led to the gates of the city, and from this another branched off, narrow and rough, which led to the mountain region. Rogero took without hesitation the narrow road;

Rogero took without hesitation the narrow road; but he had no sooner entered upon it than he was assailed by a numerous troop which opposed his passage.

You never have seen anything so ridiculous, so extraordinary, as this host of hobgoblins were.

Some of them bore the human form from the neck to the feet, but had the head of a monkey or a cat; others had the legs and the ears of a horse;

This grand and beautiful entrance was adorned by a portico of four vast columns, all of diamond.

Whether they were real diamond or artificial I cannot say. What matter is it, so long as they appeared to the eye like diamond, and nothing could be more gay and splendid.

On the threshold, and between the columns, was seen a bevy of charming young women, who played and frolicked together. They all ran to receive Rogero, and conducted him into the palace, which appeared like a paradise.

In the same manner passed each succeeding day. Games of pleasant exercise, the chase, the dance, or rural sports, made the hours pass quickly; while they gave zest to the refreshment of the bath, or sleep.

Thus Rogero led a life of ease and luxury, while Charlemagne and Agramant were struggling for empire.

But I cannot linger with him while the amiable and courageous Bradamante is night and day directing her uncertain steps to every spot where the slightest chance invites her, in the hope of recovering Rogero.

Who could have believed that you would become the slave of a base enchantress?

O Rogero, learn to know this Alcina, learn to understand her arts and to countervail them.

Take this ring, place it on your finger, return to her presence, and see for yourself what are her real charms.”

“That charming Amazon,” she said, “sends you this ring, which is a sovereign antidote to all enchantments.

She would have sent you her heart in my hands, if it would have had greater power to serve you.

”

… this dreadful oracle was announced, and when the fatal mandate had gone forth to seek among the fairest maidens of the land one to be offered to the monster, some sailors, landing on the beach where Angelica was, beheld that beauty as she lay asleep.

O blind Chance! whose power in human affairs is but too great, canst thou then abandon to the teeth of a horrible monster those charms which different sovereigns took arms against one another to possess?

Alas! the lovely Angelica is destined to be the victim of those cruel islanders.

“My name is Isabella.

I am the daughter of the king of Galicia, or rather I should say misfortune and grief are my parents.

Young, rich, modest, and of tranquil temper, all things appeared to combine to render my lot happy. Alas! I see myself today poor, humbled, miserable, and destined perhaps to yet further afflictions.

The blow was so violent that the cruel weapon pierced the body, and came out a palm-breadth behind his back. Through this wound the life of Dardinel issued with his blood, and his body fell helpless to the ground.

As a flower which the passing plough has uprooted languishes, and droops its head, so Dardinel, his visage covered with the paleness of death, expires, and the hopes of an illustrious race perish with him.

Like waters kept back by a dike, which, when the dike is broken, spread abroad through all the country, so the Moors, no longer kept in column by the example of Dardinel, fled in all directions.

As a flower which the passing plough has uprooted languishes, and droops its head, so Dardinel, his visage covered with the paleness of death, expires, and the hopes of an illustrious race perish with him.

Like waters kept back by a dike, which, when the dike is broken, spread abroad through all the country, so the Moors, no longer kept in column by the example of Dardinel, fled in all directions.

Rinaldo despised too much such easy victories to pursue them; he wished for no combats but with brave men. At the same time, the other paladins made terrible slaughter of the Moors.

“No, no!” cried he, “

I am not the man they take me for! Orlando is dead! I am only the wandering ghost of that unhappy Count, who is now suffering the torments of hell!

”

The frantic paladin saw it a second time with fury, drew his sword, and hacked it from the rock.

Unlucky grotto! you shall no more attract by your shade and coolness, you shall no more shelter with your arch either shepherd or flock.

And you, fresh and pure fountain, you may not escape the rage of the furious Orlando!

and I am inclined to believe that it was not a bird, but a fiend, evoked from underground by Malagigi, and thither sent on purpose to interrupt the fight.

Whether a fiend or a fowl, the monster flew right at Bayard, and clapped his wings in his face.

Thereat the steed broke loose, and ran madly across the plain, pursued by the bird, till Bayard plunged into the wood, and was lost to sight.

Well he might be so, for that valley was the receptacle of things lost on earth, either by men’s fault, or by the effect of time and chance.

Let no one suppose we speak here of kingdoms or of treasures; they are the toys of Fortune, which she dispenses in turning her wheel; we speak of things which she can neither give nor take away.

Such are reputations, which appear at one time so brilliant, and a short time after are heard of no more.

He also showed him garlands of flowers in which snares were concealed; these were flatteries and adulations, meant to deceive.

But nothing was so comical as the sight of numerous grasshoppers which had burst their lungs with chirping.

These, he told him, were sonnets, odes, and dedications, addressed by venal poets to great people.

Astolpho could not help laughing when the saint said to him, “

All these hooks of silver and gold that you see are the gifts of courtiers to princes, made in the hope of getting something better in return.

” He also showed him garlands of flowers in which snares were concealed; these were flatteries and adulations, meant to deceive. But nothing was so comical as the sight of numerous grasshoppers which had burst their lungs with chirping.

It was more than half full. He was surprised to find there many other vials which contained almost the whole of the wits of many persons who passed among men for wise.

Ah, how easy it is to lose one’s reason!

Some lose theirs by yielding to the sway of the passions; some in braving tempests and shoals in search of wealth; some by trusting too much to the promises of the great; some by setting their hearts on trifles.

Astolpho was amazed at all this, and asked his guide to explain it. He replied, “

The old man is Time. All the names upon the tickets would be immortal if the old man did not plunge them into the river of oblivion.

Those clamorous birds which make vain efforts to save certain of the names are flatterers, pensioners, venal rhymesters, who do their best to rescue from oblivion the unworthy names of their patrons; but all in vain;

“The swans, that with harmonious strains carry certain names to the temple of Eternal Memory, are the great poets, who save from oblivion worse than death the names of those they judge worthy of immortality.

Swans of this kind are rare. Let monarchs know the true breed, and fail not to nourish with care such as may chance to appear in their time.

”

Fortunately they were not rough, scarce a breath of wind agitated the surface; otherwise, the invincible Orlando would then have met his death.

But fortune, which it is said favors fools, delivered him from this danger, and landed him safe on the shore of Ceuta.

Here he rambled along the shore till he came to where the black army of Astolpho held its camp.

As the moment approached she seemed to have fire within her veins, and waited impatiently for the trumpet’s sound. At the signal she drew her sword, and fell with fury upon her Rogero.

But as a well-built wall or aged rock stands unmoved the fury of the storm, so Rogero, clad in those arms which Trojan Hector once wore, withstood the strokes which stormed about his head and breast and flank.

Sparks flew from his shield, his helm, his cuirass; from direct and back strokes, aimed now high, now low, falling thick and fast, like hailstones on a cottage roof;

He fastened with equal tenderness on Oliver, who smiled contemptuously in his face, and thought to himself, “

You may make as many fair speeches as you choose, but you lie.

” All the other paladins who were present thought the same, and they said as much to the Emperor, adding that Gan should on no account be sent ambassador to the Spaniards. But Charles was infatuated.

… the laurel-tree turned the omen against the Emperor, the successor of the Caesars, though one of them renewed the consternation of Gan by saying that he did not understand the meaning of the tree of Judas, and intimating that perhaps the ambassador could explain it.

Gan relieved his vexation by anger; the habit of wickedness prevailed over all other considerations

; and the king prepared to march to Roncesvalles at the head of all his forces.

As soon, however, as he cast forth his eyes, and beheld what was round about him, he turned in sorrow, and looked down into Roncesvalles, and said, “

O miserable valley! the blood shed in thee this day will color thy name forever.

”

I fancied every human being capable of this kind of virtue on a good opportunity, saving, indeed, such base-hearted wretches as can never forgive their very forgivers; and of these I did not suppose him to be one.

Let us die, if die we must, like honest and gallant men, so that it shall be said of us it was only our bodies that died.

The reason why I did not sound the horn was partly because I thought it did not become us, and partly because our liege lord could hardly save us, even if he heard it.”

Falseron was daunted at this blow. “Truly,” thought he, “this is a marvel.” Oliver did not press on among the Saracens, his wound was too painful; but Orlando now put himself and his whole band in motion, and you may guess what an uproar ensued.

The sound of the rattling of blows and helmets was as if the forge of Vulcan had been thrown open.

Falseron beheld Orlando coming so furiously, that he thought him a Lucifer who had burst his chain, and was quite of another mind than when he purposed to have him all to himself.

Huon had seen many beauties at his mother’s court, but his heart had never been touched with love. Honor had been his mistress, and in pursuit of that he had never found time to give a thought to softer cares.

Strange that a heart so insensible should first be touched by something so unsubstantial as a dream; but so it was.

The day after the adventure with his uncle night overtook the travellers as they passed through a forest. A grotto offered them shelter from the night dews. The magic cup supplied their evening meal;

Huon had seen many beauties at his mother’s court, but his heart had never been touched with love.

Honor had been his mistress, and in pursuit of that he had never found time to give a thought to softer cares.

Strange that a heart so insensible should first be touched by something so unsubstantial as a dream; but so it was.

His life was spared for the time, merely that he might be reserved for a more painful death. The Sultan meant that, after being made to feel all the torments of hunger and despair, he should be flayed alive.

But an enchanter more ancient and more powerful than Oberon himself interested himself for the brave Huon. The enchanter was Love.

The Princess Clarimunda learned with horror the fate to which the young prince was destined. By the aid of her governess she gained over the keeper of the prison, and went herself to lighten the chains of her beloved.

These visits were continued during a whole month. Huon was too good a son of the Church to forget that the amiable princess was a Saracen, and he availed himself of these interviews to instruct her in the true faith.

How easy it is to believe the truth when uttered by the lips of those we love!

Clarimunda ere long professed her entire belief in the Christian doctrines, and desired to be baptized.

“My name is Cortana, of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Durindana.” Charles saw that a superior power watched over the destinies of Ogier; he vowed to love him as a father would, and Ogier promised him the devotion of a son.

Happy had it been for both if they had always continued mindful of their promises.

The Saracen army had hardly recovered from its dismay when Carahue, King of Mauritania, who was one of the knights overthrown by Ogier at the time of the rescue of Charlemagne, determined to challenge him to single combat.

Charles asked Ogier whether, in spite of his father’s neglect, he was disposed to lead an army to his assistance. He replied, “

A son can never be excused from helping his father by any cause short of death.

” Charlemagne placed an army of a thousand knights under the command of Ogier, and great numbers more volunteered to march under so distinguished a leader. He flew to the succor of his father, repelled the invaders, and drove them in confusion to their vessels.

Nothing can exceed the surprise and joy of Charlemagne at seeing his son unharmed and Ogier kneeling at his feet. He folded him in his arms, bathed him with tears, and exclaimed to his barons, “

I feel at this moment that Ogier is greater than I.

” As for Charlot, his base soul felt nothing but the joy of having escaped death;

but all in vain, the weight of Ogier bent their backs to the ground. In this embarrassment the Archbishop remembered that the Emperor had given Beiffror to the Abbot of St. Faron, and sent off a courier in haste to re-demand him.

Monks are hard masters, and the one who directed the laborers at the abbey had but too faithfully obeyed the orders of the Abbot.

Poor Beiffror was brought back, lean, spiritless, and chafed with the harness of the vile cart that he had had to draw so long. He carried his head down, and trod heavily before Charlemagne;

We abridge the narrative of all the delights which Ogier enjoyed for more than a hundred years.

Time flew by, leaving no impression of its flight.

Morgana’s youthful charms did not decay, and Ogier had none of those warnings of increasing years which less favored mortals never fail to receive.