tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">Admetus heeded neither shepherd nor shrine.... Without a thought he passed the altar by

151 And the children crept silently to her 171 She answered him never a word, but held out both her hands and raised him from his knees 185 As he spoke, he took her by the hand, and set her in a place of honour between his father and himself 201 As the brute bore down, Meleager buried the spear deep in his shoulder 207 For the last time he leaned forward 223 On the breath of the night wind Aphrodite came in, and she kissed the statue on the lips 233 From the shadow of the cave crept a wood-nymph, and lay upon the grass 245 "Orpheus," she cried in her despair, "thy hand!" 255 On and on she fled, with the swiftness and strength of despair 269 "Oh, my father!" she cried 279 Out of the corner of his eye he could see the gleam of her tunic 303 Out of the stream beside him there rose a wondrous form of a maiden clad all in misty white 317 Menelaus was bearing him in triumph towards the Achæan host 339 Cast herself upon the body of Paris, and put her arms about his neck 345 Initials, Tail-pieces, etc.

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Children of the Dawn

The Riddle of the Sphinx

FAR away towards the east and the regions of the rising sun lies the fair land of Hellas, a land famous from of old for mighty deeds of mighty men, and famous to this day among the nations of the earth; for though the mighty men, her heroes, have long since passed away, their names live on for ever in the pages of her grand old poets, who sing of their deeds in strains which still kindle the hearts of men, and stir them up to be heroes too, and fight life's battle bravely.

Long ago, in the city of Thebes, there ruled a king named Laius and his queen Iocasta. They were children of the gods, and Thebes itself, men said, had been built by hands more than mortal; for Apollo had led Cadmus the Phœnician, the son of Zeus, to the sacred spot where he was to raise the citadel of Thebes, and Pallas Athene had helped him to slay the monstrous dragon that guarded the sacred spring of Ares. The teeth of the dragon, Cadmus took and planted in the plain of Thebes, and from this seed there sprang up a great host of armed men, who would have slain him; but he took a stone and cast it in their midst, whereupon the serpent-men turned their arms one against another, fighting up and down the plain till only five were left. With the help of these five, Cadmus built the citadel of Thebes, and round it made a wall so wide that a dozen men and more might walk upon it, and so huge were the stones and so strong was the masonry that parts of it are standing to this day. As for the city itself, the tale goes that Amphion, the mightiest of all musicians, came with his lyre, and so sweetly did he play that the hearts of the very stones were stirred within them, so that of their own free-will they fell into their places, and the town of Thebes rose up beneath the shadow of the citadel.

For many a long day did Laius and Iocasta rule over the people of Thebes, and all that time they had no children; for a dreadful curse lay on the head of Laius that, if ever he had a son, by that son's hand he should die. At last a boy was born to them, and Laius, remembering the curse, swore that the child should never grow to manhood, and he bade Iocasta slay him forthwith. But she, being his mother, was filled with a great love and pity for the helpless child. When it nestled in her arms and clung to her breast she could not find it in her heart to slay it, and she wept over it many a bitter salt tear, and pressed it closer to her bosom. As the tiny fingers closed round hers, and the soft head pressed against her, she murmured,

"Surely, so little a thing can do no harm? Sweet babe, they say that I must kill thee, but they know not a mother's love. Rather than that, I will put thee away out of my sight, and never see thee more, though the gods know I had sooner die than lose thee, my little one, my own sweet babe."

So she called a trusty house-slave, who knew the king's decree, and placing the child in his arms, she said,

"Go, take it away, and hide it in the hills. Perchance the gods will have pity on it, and put it in the heart of some shepherd, who feeds his flocks on distant pastures, to take the child home to his cot and rear it. Farewell, my pretty babe. The green grass must be thy cradle, and the mountain breezes must lull thee to sleep. May the gods in their mercy bless thy childhood's hours, and make thy name famous among men; for thou art a king's son, and a child of the Immortals, and the Immortals forget not those that are born of their blood."

So the man took the child from Iocasta; but, because he feared the king's decree, he