Myths of Greece and Rome Part 22

She graciously permitted him to follow her to her father's palace, and presented him to Alcinous and Arete, who bade him welcome, and invited him to join in the games then taking place. He did so, and displayed such strength and skill that his ident.i.ty was revealed. Alcinous then promised to send him safely home in a Phaeacian bark, which reached Ithaca in safety, and deposited Ulysses, asleep, on his native sh.o.r.e.

[Sidenote: The petrified ship.]

When Neptune discovered that the Phaeacians had outwitted him, he was so angry that he changed the returning vessel into a rock, which blocked the harbor and put an end to further maritime excursions on their part.

"He drew near And smote it with his open palm, and made The ship a rock, fast rooted in the bed Of the deep sea."

Homer (Bryant's tr.).

[Ill.u.s.tration: PENELOPE. (Vatican, Rome.)]

[Sidenote: Ulysses' return to Ithaca.]

Disguised as a beggar by Minerva's kindly care, Ulysses sought the lowly dwelling of Eumaeus, his swineherd, and from him learned all he wished to know about his wife and son. He heard that Penelope was fairly besieged with suitors, who were even now feasting and reveling in his palace, whence they refused to depart until she had made choice of a second husband; and also that Telemachus, now a young man, indignant and displeased with the suitors' conduct, and guided and accompanied by his tutor Mentor, had set out in search of the father whom he could not believe dead.

Mentor was Minerva in disguise, who guided the young man to the courts of Nestor and Menelaus, and finally in a dream bade him return to Ithaca, where he would find the parent he sought. The young prince immediately obeyed, and landed near Eumaeus' hut, escaping a clever ambuscade posted by the suitors at the entrance of the port.

Minerva now permitted the father and son to recognize each other, in spite of their twenty years' separation, and together they planned how best to punish the insolent suitors. They finally agreed that Telemachus should return to the palace and make no mention of his father's return; while Ulysses, still in the guise of a beggar, should enter his home and claim the usual hospitality.

All was executed as they had planned. No one recognized the long-expected hero in the miserable old beggar--no one save his aged nurse Euryclea, and his faithful old dog Argus, who died for joy at his long-lost master's feet.

"While over Argus the black night of death Came suddenly as soon as he had seen Ulysses, absent now for twenty years."

Homer (Bryant's tr.).

[Sidenote: Penelope's web.]

Penelope, hearing that a stranger was within her gates, sent for him, to inquire whether he knew aught of her husband. She too failed to pierce his disguise, and languidly continued a piece of work which she cleverly used to baffle her suitors; for once, when urged to marry, she had replied that she would do so as soon as her work was finished.

As she was a diligent worker, the suitors expected soon to hear her decision, little knowing that she raveled at night all the web so carefully woven during the day.

"Three full years She practiced thus, and by the fraud deceived The Grecian youths."

Homer (Bryant's tr.).

[Sidenote: Ulysses' bow.]

At last the subterfuge was discovered, and the unfortunate Penelope was forced to finish her work; but ere it was quite done, she found another expedient to postpone her choice of a husband. She brought Ulysses' bow, and announced that she would marry the man who could bend it and send an arrow through twelve rings which she pointed out.

"'I bring to you The mighty bow that great Ulysses bore. Whoe'er among you he may be whose hand Shall bend this bow, and send through these twelve rings An arrow, him I follow hence, and leave This beautiful abode of my young years, With all its plenty,--though its memory, I think, will haunt me even in my dreams.'"

Homer (Bryant's tr.).

[Sidenote: Death of the suitors.]

The suitors all vainly strove to bend the mighty bow, which was then seized by the disguised Ulysses, while the youths laughed aloud in scorn, until Telemachus bade them let the old man try his strength. To the amazement of all, Ulysses easily performed the required feat; and then, turning his aim toward Antinous, the handsomest and most treacherous of all the suitors, he pierced his heart.

A scene of wild commotion ensued, in which Ulysses, Telemachus, Eumaeus, and Minerva disguised as Mentor, opposed and slew all the wooers. Penelope, unconscious of all this bloodshed, slept in her room, until she was gently awakened by Euryclea, who announced the return of her long-absent husband.

"'Awake, Penelope, dear child, and see With thine own eyes what thou hast pined for long. Ulysses has returned; thy lord is here, Though late, and he has slain the arrogant crew Of suitors, who disgraced his house, and made His wealth a spoil, and dared insult his son.'"

Homer (Bryant's tr.).

But Penelope had too long believed her husband dead to credit this marvelous news; and it was only after Ulysses had given her an infallible proof of his ident.i.ty, by telling her a secret which was shared by her alone, that she received him.

[Sidenote: Ulysses' last journey.]

Ulysses was now safe at home, after twenty years of warfare and adventure, and at first greatly enjoyed the quiet and peace of his home life; but after a while these tame joys grew wearisome, and he decided to renew his wanderings. He therefore prepared a fleet, and sailed "out into the West," whence he never returned. The Greeks, however, averred that he had gone in search of the Isles of the Blest, where he dwelt in perfect peace, and enjoyed the constant society of heroes as brave and renowned as himself.

"'Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides: and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.'"

Tennyson.

CHAPTER XXIX.

ADVENTURES OF AENEAS.

You have already heard how the Greeks entered the city of Troy in the dead of night, ma.s.sacred the inhabitants, and set fire to the beautiful buildings which had been the king's pride and delight. Now you shall hear how Virgil relates the escape of some of the Trojans from general destruction.

Unconscious of coming danger, AEneas, son of Venus and Anchises, lay fast asleep in his palace; but the G.o.ds had not doomed him to perish, and sent the shade of Hector to warn him in a dream to arise, leave the city, and fly to some distant land.

"'Ah, G.o.ddess-born,' he warns me, 'fly! Escape these flames: Greece holds the walls; Proud Ilium from her summit falls. Think not of king's or country's claims: Country and king, alas! are names: Could Troy be saved by hands of men, This hand had saved her then, e'en then. The G.o.ds of her domestic shrines That country to your care consigns: Receive them now, to share your fate: Provide them mansions strong and great, The city's walls, which Heaven has willed Beyond the seas you yet shall build.'"

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

[Sidenote: AEneas goes to save Priam.]

Awakened at last by the ever-increasing tumult without, AEneas seized his arms and hastened forth, attended by many of his fellow-citizens, to ascertain the cause of the great uproar. A few minutes later he discovered that the Greek army had entered the town, and was even now killing, plundering, and burning without mercy. The men were all slain, but the fairest women were dragged away to be sold as slaves in Greece; and among them AEneas beheld in the hands of Agamemnon's soldiers the unfortunate daughter of Priam, Ca.s.sandra, whom the G.o.ds had endowed with prophetic powers (p. 310), but whom no one would heed.

AEneas, seeing ere long that there was no hope of saving the doomed city, quickly disguised himself in a Greek armor which he tore from the corpse of one of his foes, and rushed on to the palace, hoping to save the aged king, who, at the first alarm, had seized his weapons, determined to fight to the very last.

Hecuba, his wife, was clinging to him, imploring him to remain, when suddenly Polites, their son, rushed into their presence, closely followed by Pyrrhus, or Neoptolemus, son of Achilles, who thrust his sword into the youth, and then murdered Priam also.

"So Priam's fortunes closed at last: So pa.s.sed he, seeing as he pa.s.sed His Troy in flames, his royal tower Laid low in dust by hostile power, Who once o'er land and peoples proud Sat, while before him Asia bowed: Now on the sh.o.r.e behold him dead, A nameless trunk, a trunkless head."

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

AEneas, who arrived just too late to hinder this frightful catastrophe, now suddenly remembered that a similar fate awaited his aged father Anchises, his wife Creusa, and little son Iulus, who were at home without any protector near them. The hero therefore madly cut his way through the foe, and rushed through the once magnificent palace, which was now stripped of its rarest treasures and desecrated by an enemy's tread.

[Sidenote: Venus appears to AEneas.]

There, in one of the abandoned halls, he saw Helen, the fair cause of all this war and bloodshed,--who, after Paris' death, had married Deiphobus, his brother,--and for a moment he determined to take her life; but ere he could do so, Venus, his mother, stayed his hand, and bade him remember that the immortal G.o.ds had long ago decreed that the city should fall, and that Helen was merely the pretext used to induce the rival nations to fly to arms.

Further to convince him of the truth of her a.s.sertions, she enabled him to see what was hidden from mortal eyes: i.e., Neptune, Minerva, Juno, and Jupiter even, fighting and leveling the walls with mighty blows. She then vehemently implored her son to leave this scene of carnage, and fly, with his family and followers, to some safe place without the city, whence he could embark, and sail away to a more fortunate land; and her entreaties finally prevailed.

[Sidenote: Anchises' escape.]

AEneas rushed home and bade his father prepare to leave Troy; but Anchises obstinately refused to leave his post, until he saw a bright flame hover for a moment above his grandson's head, which sign he interpreted as an omen that his race should endure. He no longer resisted; and, as he was too weak to walk, AEneas bade him hold the Lares and Penates, and, taking him on his back, carried him off, while with one hand he led his little son, and bade Creusa closely follow him.

"'Come, mount my shoulders, dear my sire: Such load my strength shall never tire. Now, whether fortune smiles or lowers, One risk, one safety shall be ours. My son shall journey at my side, My wife her steps by mine shall guide, At distance safe.'"

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

[Sidenote: Creusa's ghost.]

A trysting place near a ruined temple had already been appointed for his servants, and thither AEneas turned his steps. When he arrived there, he found many awaiting him, and counted them carefully to make sure none were missing. All were there except Creusa, his beloved young wife; and he retraced his steps with anxious haste, hoping to find her still alive. But on the threshold of his once happy home he met her disembodied spirit, and heard her bid him seek the banks of the Tiber, where a beautiful young bride would comfort him for her loss. This speech ended, Creusa's ghost vanished, and AEneas sadly returned to the ruined temple, where he found many fugitives ready to follow him wherever he went, and eager to obey his every command. Their preparations for departure were speedily completed, the sails unfurled, and the little exiled band soon lost sight of the sh.o.r.es of Troy.

"Weeping I quit the port, the sh.o.r.e, The plains where Ilium stood before, And homeless launch upon the main, Son, friends, and home G.o.ds in my train."

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

[Sidenote: Arrival in Thrace.]

Although they had escaped from burning Troy and the swords of the Greeks, their trials had only just begun. After many days' sailing, they landed in Thrace, viewed the country, decided to settle there, and began to trace the foundations of a new city, which they decided to call the AEneadae, in honor of their leader.

Their next care was to offer a sacrifice to the G.o.ds; but when AEneas, with due ceremony, cut down a sapling, he was startled to see blood flow from its severed stem. At the same time a mysterious voice was heard, bidding him forbear, for his former friend Polydorus, sent to Thrace to conceal some treasures, had been murdered there by an avaricious king, and this grove of trees had sprouted from the spear handles driven into his unhappy breast.

[Sidenote: Delos and Crete.]

After paying the customary funeral rites to appease the soul of his unfortunate friend, AEneas easily prevailed upon his followers to leave these inhospitable sh.o.r.es and seek another resting place. They rowed over the briny deep until they came to Delos, where they stopped to consult the oracle, who bade them seek the cradle of their race, and settle there.

"'Stout Dardan hearts, the realm of earth Where first your nation sprang to birth, That realm shall now receive you back: Go, seek your ancient mother's track. There shall AEneas' house, renewed For ages, rule a world subdued.'"

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

This obscure command left them uncertain what course to pursue, until the aged Anchises remembered that one of his ancestors, Teucer, had once reigned in Crete. Thither they sailed, and hoped to settle; but a terrible pestilence came upon them, and decimated their already spa.r.s.e ranks.

[Sidenote: AEneas' vision.]

One night AEneas had a vision, in which his household G.o.ds bade him seek the Italian or Hesperian sh.o.r.es; and when, on waking, he imparted this advice to Anchises, the latter remembered a long-forgotten prophecy of Ca.s.sandra, purporting that they would settle there, and also that Darda.n.u.s, their first progenitor, was reported to have come from thence.

"There is a land, by Greece of old Surnamed Hesperia, rich its mold, Its children brave and free: Oenotrians were its settlers: fame Now gives the race its leader's name, And calls it Italy. Here Darda.n.u.s was born, our king, And old Iasius, whence we spring: Here our authentic seat."

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

[Sidenote: Celaeno, the Harpy.]

Ere many days AEneas and his trusty followers were once more afloat, and forced to battle with fierce storms sent by Juno to hinder their advance. Exhausted, they landed on the Strophades Islands, where they proposed to recruit their strength by a hearty meal; but no sooner was their table spread, than the meats were devoured and destroyed by the loathsome Harpies. A terrible prophecy uttered by Celaeno, one of these monsters,--half woman and half bird,--made them embark again in great haste, and row on until they came to Epirus, where they again effected a landing. In this country they met the sorrowing Andromache, Hector's widow, the slave of King Helenus, who entertained them royally and sent them on their way again, with many kindly cautions to beware of the Cyclopes and avoid Charybdis and Scylla by circ.u.mnavigating the whole island of Sicily.

[Sidenote: Rescue of Achemenides.]

This advice was duly followed by AEneas, who, while rounding one of the promontories of the island, saw and rescued Achemenides, one of Ulysses' companions, accidentally left behind when they escaped from the rage of Polyphemus, the Cyclops. This giant now came down to the sh.o.r.e, and was regarded with unconcealed horror by the Trojans, who rowed away in haste. Soon after, AEneas moored his ships in the harbors of Sicania and Drepanum, and while there lost his aged father Anchises.

"There I lose my stay in every care, My sire Anchises!"

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

Juno, in the mean while, had not been idle, and gloated over the dangers she had forced the unhappy Trojans to encounter during the seven years which had already elapsed since they first sailed from Troy. She was not yet weary of persecuting them, however; and as soon as she saw them once more afloat, she hurried off to AEolus, and bade him let loose his fiercest children, and scatter the fleet by a terrible storm.

"'O AEolus! since the Sire of all Has made the wind obey thy call To raise or lay the foam, A race I hate now plows the sea, Transporting Troy to Italy And home G.o.ds reft of home: Lash thou thy winds, their ships submerge, Or toss them weltering o'er the surge.'"

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

[Sidenote: The tempest.]

This request was immediately granted. The vessels, tossed hither and thither, lost sight of each other. Some were stranded, some sank, and still the tempest raged on with unabated fury, and death stared the unhappy Trojans in the face. The commotion on the deep finally aroused Neptune, who came to the surface just in time to see all the misfortunes which had overwhelmed AEneas. He imperiously sent the winds away, and lent a helping hand to float the stranded ships once more.

"'Back to your master instant flee, And tell him, not to him but me The imperial trident of the sea Fell by the lot's award.'"

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

The Trojans, grateful for his timely aid, and rea.s.sured by the calm which now reigned supreme, steered for the nearest port, where they anch.o.r.ed their seven vessels, all that now remained of their once large fleet.

[Sidenote: Arrival in Libya.]

AEneas and Achates, his faithful friend, immediately set out to view the land, and ere long encountered Venus, disguised as a mortal, who informed them that they had landed upon the Libyan coast, which was under the sway of Dido, a fugitive from Tyre. Dido's husband, Sychaeus, King of Tyre, the possessor of untold riches, had been murdered by Pygmalion, his brother-in-law; but the queen was kept in complete ignorance of this crime, until visited in a dream by the shade of Sychaeus, which bade her fly with his treasures, whose place of concealment she alone knew.

Dido obeyed the ghost's commands, and, accompanied by a number of faithful subjects, landed on the Libyan coast, where she entreated the inhabitants to sell her as much land as an ox-hide would inclose. This seemingly modest request was immediately granted; but the Libyans regretted their compliance when they saw the ox-hide cut up into tiny strips, which inclosed a considerable tract of land, the site of Dido's beautiful capital, Carthage.

[Sidenote: AEneas and Dido.]

Thither Venus advised her son to proceed and claim the queen's protection. AEneas and Achates obediently hastened onward, and entered the town unseen, for Venus had enveloped them both in a mist. Their attention was first attracted by the festive appearance of the people a.s.sembled together, and by the beauty of the queen, giving audience to some of their companions, who had miraculously escaped from the waves.

These men spoke to the queen of their renowned chief, whose fame had already reached her ear; and she gladly promised to send out a search party to discover him, and aid him if necessary.

"'I will send And search the coast from end to end, If haply, wandering up and down, He bide in woodland or in town.'"

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

At these gracious words, AEneas stepped forward, the mist vanished, and he stood before the queen in all his manly beauty.

Dido then led her guests to the banquet hall, where they recounted their adventures by land and sea, while partaking of the viands and wines set before them. At this feast, Cupid, at Venus' request, a.s.sumed the face and form of Iulus, AEneas' young son, and, reclining on the queen's bosom, secretly thrust one of his darts into her heart, and made her fall in love with AEneas.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AENEAS AT THE COURT OF DIDO.--Guerin.]

Day after day now pa.s.sed in revelry and pleasure, and still AEneas lingered by Dido's side, forgetful of the new kingdom he was destined to found. One whole year pa.s.sed thus; and the G.o.ds, impatient of delay, finally sent Mercury to remind AEneas of his duty.

To avoid Dido's tears and recriminations, the hero kept his preparations for departure a complete secret, and finally set sail while she was wrapt in slumber. When she awoke and looked out of her palace window, it was only to see the last vessel sink beneath the horizon.