as one of her own snakes, only ten times more venomous and
spiteful; and glaring fiercely out of the blaze of the chariot,

she shook her hands over the multitude below, as if she were
scattering a million of curses among them. In so doing,

however, she unintentionally let fall about five hundred
diamonds of the first water, together with a thousand great

pearls, and two thousand emeralds, rubies, sapphires, opals,
and topazes, to which she had helped herself out of the king's

strong box. All these came pelting down, like a shower of many-
colored hailstones, upon the heads of grown people and

children, who forthwith gathered them up, and carried them back
to the palace. But King Aegeus told them that they were welcome

to the whole, and to twice as many more, if he had them, for
the sake of his delight at finding his son, and losing the

wicked Medea. And, indeed, if you had seen how hateful was her
last look, as the flamingchariot flew upward, you would not

have wondered that both king and people should think her
departure a good riddance.

And now Prince Theseus was taken into great favor by his royal
father. The old king was never weary of having him sit beside

him on his throne (which was quite wide enough for two), and of
hearing him tell about his dear mother, and his childhood, and

his many boyish efforts to lift the ponderous stone. Theseus,
however, was much too brave and active a young man to be

willing to spend all his time in relating things which had
already happened. His ambition was to perform other and more

heroic deeds, which should be better worth telling in prose and
verse. Nor had he been long in Athens before he caught and

chained a terrible mad bull, and made a public show of him,
greatly to the wonder and admiration of good King Aegeus and

his subjects. But pretty soon, he undertook an affair that made
all his foregone adventures seem like mere boy's play. The

occasion of it was as follows:
One morning, when Prince Theseus awoke, he fancied that he must

have had a very sorrowful dream, and that it was still running
in his mind, even now that his eyes were opened. For it

appeared as if the air was full of a melancholy wail; and when
he listened more attentively, he could hear sobs, and groans,

and screams of woe, mingled with deep, quiet sighs, which came
from the king's palace, and from the streets, and from the

temples, and from every habitation in the city. And all these
mournful noises, issuing out of thousands of separate hearts,

united themselves into one great sound of affliction, which had
startled Theseus from slumber. He put on his clothes as quickly

as he could (not forgetting his sandals and gold-hilted sword),
and, hastening to the king, inquired what it all meant.

"Alas! my son," quoth King Aegeus, heaving a long sigh, "here
is a very lamentable matter in hand! This is the wofulest

anniversary in the whole year. It is the day when we annually
draw lots to see which of the youths and maids of Athens shall

go to be devoured by the horrible Minotaur!"
"The Minotaur!" exclaimed Prince Theseus; and like a brave

young prince as he was, he put his hand to the hilt of his
sword. "What kind of a monster may that be? Is it not possible,

at the risk of one's life, to slay him?"
But King Aegeus shook his venerable head, and to convince

Theseus that it was quite a hopeless case, he gave him an
explanation of the whole affair. It seems that in the island of

Crete there lived a certain dreadfulmonster, called a
Minotaur, which was shaped partly like a man and partly like a

bull, and was altogether such a hideous sort of a creature that
it is really disagreeable to think of him. If he were suffered

to exist at all, it should have been on some desert island, or
in the duskiness of some deep cavern, where nobody would ever

be tormented by his abominableaspect. But King Minos, who
reigned over Crete, laid out a vast deal of money in building a

habitation for the Minotaur, and took great care of his health
and comfort, merely for mischief's sake. A few years before

this time, there had been a war between the city of Athens and
the island of Crete, in which the Athenians were beaten, and

compelled to beg for peace. No peace could they obtain,
however, except on condition that they should send seven young

men and seven maidens, every year, to be devoured by the pet
monster of the cruel King Minos. For three years past, this

grievous calamity had been borne. And the sobs, and groans, and
shrieks, with which the city was now filled, were caused by the

people's woe, because the fatal day had come again, when the
fourteen victims were to be chosen by lot; and the old people

feared lest their sons or daughters might be taken, and the
youths and damsels dreaded lest they themselves might be

destined to glut the ravenous maw of that detestable man-brute.
But when Theseus heard the story, he straightened himself up,

so that he seemed taller than ever before; and as for his face
it was indignant, despiteful, bold, tender, and compassionate,

all in one look.
"Let the people of Athens this year draw lots for only six

young men, instead of seven," said he, "I will myself be the
seventh; and let the Minotaur devour me if he can!"

"O my dear son," cried King Aegeus, "why should you expose
yourself to this horrible fate? You are a royal prince, and

have a right to hold yourself above the destinies of common
men."

"It is because I am a prince, your son, and the rightful heir
of your kingdom, that I freely take upon me the calamity of

your subjects," answered Theseus, " And you, my father, being
king over these people, and answerable to Heaven for their

welfare, are bound to sacrifice what is dearest to you, rather
than that the son or daughter of the poorest citizen should

come to any harm."
The old king shed tears, and besought Theseus not to leave him

desolate in his old age, more especially as he had but just
begun to know the happiness of possessing a good and valiant

son. Theseus, however, felt that he was in the right, and
therefore would not give up his resolution. But he assured his

father that he did not intend to be eaten up, unresistingly,
like a sheep, and that, if the Minotaur devoured him, it should

not be without a battle for his dinner. And finally, since he
could not help it, King Aegeus consented to let him go. So a

vessel was got ready, and rigged with black sails; and Theseus,
with six other young men, and seven tender and beautiful

damsels, came down to the harbor to embark. A sorrowful
multitude accompanied them to the shore. There was the poor old

king, too, leaning on his son's arm, and looking as if his
single heart held all the grief of Athens.

Just as Prince Theseus was going on board, his father bethought
himself of one last word to say.

"My beloved son," said he, grasping the Prince's hand, "you
observe that the sails of this vessel are black; as indeed they

ought to be, since it goes upon a voyage of sorrow and despair.
Now, being weighed down with infirmities, I know not whether I

can survive till the vessel shall return. But, as long as I do
live, I shall creep daily to the top of yonder cliff, to watch

if there be a sail upon the sea. And, dearest Theseus, if by
some happy chance, you should escape the jaws of the Minotaur,

then tear down those dismal sails, and hoist others that shall
be bright as the sunshine. Beholding them on the horizon,

myself and all the people will know that you are coming back
victorious, and will welcome you with such a festal uproar as

Athens never heard before."
Theseus promised that he would do so. Then going on board, the