Part 16 (2/2)

They twined and twisted round the babe that, born After long travail, ne'er had shed a tear E'en in his nursery; soon to quit their hold, For powerless seemed their spines. Alcmena heard, While her lord slept, the crying, and awoke.

”Amphitryon, up: chill fears take hold on me.

Up: stay not to put sandals on thy feet.

Hear'st thou our child, our younger, how he cries?

Seest thou yon walls illumed at dead of night, But not by morn's pure beam? I know, I know, Sweet lord, that some strange thing is happening here.”

She spake; and he, upleaping at her call, Made swiftly for the sword of quaint device That aye hung dangling o'er his cedarn couch: And he was reaching at his span-new belt, The scabbard (one huge piece of lotus-wood) Poised on his arm; when suddenly the night Spread out her hands, and all was dark again.

Then cried he to his slaves, whose sleep was deep: ”Quick, slaves of mine; fetch fire from yonder hearth: And force with all your strength the doorbolts back!

Up, loyal-hearted slaves: the master calls.”

Forth came at once the slaves with lighted lamps.

The house was all astir with hurrying feet.

But when they saw the suckling Heracles With the two brutes grasped firm in his soft hands, They shouted with one voice. But he must show The reptiles to Amphitryon; held aloft His hands in childish glee, and laughed and laid At his sire's feet the monsters still in death.

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

Now c.o.c.ks had thrice sung out that night was e'er.

Then went Alcmena forth and told the thing To Teiresias the seer, whose words were truth, And bade him rede her what the end should be:-- 'And if the G.o.ds bode mischief, hide it not, Pitying, from me: man shall not thus avoid The doom that Fate upon her distaff spins.

Son of Eueres, thou hast ears to hear.'

Thus spake the queen, and thus he made reply: ”Mother of monarchs, Perseus' child, take heart; And look but on the fairer side of things.

For by the precious light that long ago Left tenantless these eyes, I swear that oft Achaia's maidens, as when eve is high They mould the silken yarn upon their lap, Shall tell Alcmena's story: blest art thou Of women. Such a man in this thy son Shall one day scale the star-enc.u.mbered heaven: His amplitude of chest bespeaks him lord Of all the forest beasts and all mankind.

Twelve tasks accomplished he must dwell with Zeus; His flesh given over to Trachinian fires; And son-in-law be hailed of those same G.o.ds Who sent yon skulking brutes to slay thy babe.

Lo! the day cometh when the fawn shall couch In the wolfs lair, nor fear the spiky teeth That would not harm him. But, O lady, keep Yon smouldering fire alive; prepare you piles Of fuel, bramble-sprays or fern or furze Or pear-boughs dried with swinging in the wind: And let the kindled wild-wood burn those snakes At midnight, when they looked to slay thy babe.

And let at dawn some handmaid gather up The ashes of the fire, and diligently Convey and cast each remnant o'er the stream Faced by clov'n rocks, our boundary: then return Nor look behind. And purify your home First with sheer sulphur, rain upon it then, (Chaplets of olive wound about your heads,) Innocuous water, and the customed salt.

Lastly, to Zeus almighty slay a boar: So shall ye vanquish all your enemies.”

Spake Teiresias, and wheeling (though his years Weighed on him sorely) gained his ivory car.

And Heracles as some young orchard-tree Grew up, Amphitryon his reputed sire.

Old Linus taught him letters, Phoebus' child, A dauntless toiler by the midnight lamp.

Each fall whereby the sons of Argos fell, The flingers by cross-b.u.t.tock, each his man By feats of wrestling: all that boxers e'er, Grim in their gauntlets, have devised, or they Who wage mixed warfare and, adepts in art, Upon the foe fall headlong: all such lore Phocian Harpalicus gave him, Hermes' son: Whom no man might behold while yet far off And wait his armed onset undismayed: A brow so truculent roofed so stern a face.

To launch, and steer in safety round the goal, Chariot and steed, and damage ne'er a wheel, This the lad learned of fond Amphitryon's self.

Many a fair prize from listed warriors he Had won on Argive racegrounds; yet the car Whereon he sat came still unshattered home, What gaps were in his harness time had made.

Then with couched lance to reach the foe, his targe Covering his rear, and bide the biting sword; Or, on the warpath, place his ambuscade, Marshal his lines and rally his cavaliers; This knightly Castor learned him, erst exiled From Argos, when her realms with all their wealth Of vineyards fell to Tydeus, who received Her and her chariots at Adrastus' hand.

Amongst the Heroes none was Castor's match Till age had dimmed the glory of his youth.

Such tutors this fond mother gave her son.

The stripling's bed was at his father's side, One after his own heart, a lion's skin.

His dinner, roast meat, with a loaf that filled A Dorian basket, you might soothly say Had satisfied a delver; and to close The day he took, sans fire, a scanty meal.

A simple frock went halfway down his leg:

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