Preface (cont. 9)

And I, indeed, made no objection, being always greedy for new experiences, and, moreover, both I and Golden Helen did not restrain our laughter when we remembered who we were to whom such indignities were offered. Wherefore, having tucked away my natural ferocity, I was as meek as a clod: but I watched events with steady eyes. But I told fair Helen to go to a convent of the priestesses of Pallas Athene near the market-place, there to wait till I should be dismissed without a stain upon my character. And, presently, the centurion himself appeared; and he would escort her thither: for he, indeed, perceived that we were persons of quality; and he said that, if nothing against me could be collected by the following day, he would give me a diploma valuable for all Akhaia. Also, he regretted my detention, assuring me that he himself was under authority. And, when he came back from attending the divine one of goddesses, we conversed, until I had emptied his mind into mine: but that was a pastime, and not a new labour for Herakles.

And, when Dawn (the mother of morning) was come again, and, when Helios Hyperion had driven the chariot of the sun to the height of heaven and was on the downward way toward his bed in the ocean, then, the Roman centurion (having found out no ill of me) gave me the promised diploma, setting me at liberty. But I hastened to the convent of the priestesses of Pallas Athene. But the portress said that the divine one of goddesses had been summoned to meet me at the palace of the governour of the province, whither she had gone at noon, with a plump of spearmen for a guard. To which place I followed her as quickly as possible; and the mind in my dear breast was full of dire foreboding. For I remembered certain words which the centurion had let fall in his cups of the previous night, concerning the sins of Roman governours in general, who bought their governourships by bribes, expecting to recoup themselves (for the outlay of a lifetime) by the crimes which a year of governourship made possible. Also, he had spoken of the governour of Akhaia in particular, by name Anthemius Cotta, saying that he was a Nouus Homo of coarse manners and huge wealth accumulated (no one knew how) in Asia, that he had bought his governourship, being possessed of a gluttonous appetite for the eels of Lake Kopais, greedily engorging the same without ceasing excepting to pant occasionally, and, that he was despised and detested, inasmuch as he cultivated Asiatic vices, filling his palace with females, slaves, guarded by black eunuchs.

But I found no sentry at the palace-gate, so lax is the rule of a luxurious governour. An elegant slave in a Persian mitre, however, mentioned that Anthemius Cotta had finished the business of the day. And then, indeed, divine Rage inflamed me with the desire of horribly pinching and mangling; and, staring very starkly, I invaded the place without more ado. Crowds of feeble persons fell away from me, as I passed in frightful silence. And, suddenly, I heard the voice of Golden Helen moaning for me by name.

But I rushed toward the sound, tearing down a curtain, and running along a painted hall where a meal was spread. At the other end, a single negro, armed with a monstrous curving scymetar, kept watch before another curtained door. His grinning head sprang to the right, and his blood-spouting carcase thudded to the left: but I passed between, passing to the divine one of goddesses.

She was at the far end of the chamber, back to wall. Two loathsome rolling-eyed eunuchs lay at her feet, blasted by her amber fires. But there were others, about to attempt an onslaught. And, before her, stood the Roman governour, a ceruminous personality, fatty and pustulous, and of proboscidian flaccidity. Upon whom I wreaked many most mind-grieving evils, saying nothing. For, first, I impaled him, thrusting my sword through his right shoulder, and spinning him (yelling) round by the hilt to face me. Next, having clutched a handful of his glabrous forehead and a large handful of his cataract of chins, I tore off his countenance; and threw it away. But he dropped on his belly, scrabbling the floor with tettered toes and fingers.

But the eunuchs were petrified with terror; and Golden Helen, seeing me near, was ready to swoon. Her, indeed, I bore (senseless) to a couch; and bestowed her safely while I finished the business.

The eunuchs had to turn the Roman governour face upward and to spit by turns into his rolling lidless eyes, while he winced, mewling with unlipped mouth. I drew my sword from its fat sheath, and flashed it through the eunuchs’ necks, so that they fell asunder in a heap, but their heads rolled about the floor. I was minded also to carve Anthemius Cotta slowly into slices: but my gorge rose somewhat squeamishly. For which cause, I only cut the sinews of his knees and elbows, and heaped the carcases of his slaves upon him, having collected their black heads: but I stuffed his own face into his mouth. And, being satiated with slaughter, I covered the mound with a door-curtain, lest the eyes of the goddess should be offended.

But her, I carried into the painted hall; and, having cleansed myself in several bowls of rosewater, I used the wine (which was there) to restore her. And anon we left the palace, being of an aspect so godly and terrific, that the slaves scuffled (cat-like) to hide themselves as we passed by. But, hastening to the quay, we ascended the hollow ship, flying away as quickly as possible.

Thus I did, visiting Khalkis, a city on the island of Eyboia.

FOOTNOTES:

[57] I would point out that the “vol plané” here described almost seems to resemble the showy but somewhat clumsy mode of alterrament affected by the velivolors and aereoplanes and dirigibles of the Fifth Georgian Era.

[58] I am given to understand that our own earlier hydroplanes and hydrovolors had their motors situated amidships and aft respectively. A. H.

[59] I call attention to the extreme beauty and distinction of this original and (I sadly fear) little-realized doctrine. A. H.

THE TWENTY-FOURTH PAPYRUS

But, when my galley was in the open water of the Eyboik Gulph, we sat together upon the lofty poop; and the divine one of goddesses told me all her adventures. For, Anthemius Cotta, having seen her going to the convent of priestesses of Pallas Athene, sent her a message as from me, saying that I was an honoured guest at the palace. And, when she (suspecting no evil) went thither, the governour offered her fair words, bribes, and violence, by turn, persuading her to submit to indignities. But she repulsed him, summoning to her aid the godly forces (inherited, but long unused), which she possessed as daughter of Great Zeys Pantokrator. But, sooth to say, the sweet maid was no longer able to hold her own against fierce-passioned gods or men. Not that she would ever yield: but ten weary lonely centuries in the netherworld had weakened her high hereditary forces, so that she needed an ally. And, now that her peril was averted, she let fall a round tear, like a frightened child very anxious for a companion and protector. Whom I reverently consoled, swearing a great oath that I would ever be her faithful warden.

Now, if I had been alone, nothing would have pleased me more than going through Akhaia and Makedonia by land, seeking adventures, taking revenges, stultifying the Roman conquerors by the spells of magic art. Such, indeed, would have been a very convenient course for a Mage practising the uses of his arts and crafts, and pleasing enough for a Master at liberty. But, since so great a god as Love had taught me, binding himself (with a blooming chain) to serve me, I was aware that service is as far above liberty as lofty Olympos is above deep Tartaros: nineteen times nineteen days, indeed, will a brazen anvil pass in dropping sheer from the one to the other. Wherefore, knowing how godly a thing it is to be a servant, I also bound myself with the chain of love.

For, it had been in my mind, even in voyaging by sea, to visit Opoyntian Lokri, for the sake of Aias the Less, who wore a linen corslet, and (though a mite of a man) was by far the best spear-thruster of all the Argives when we besieged windy Ilion. Also, I would have visited the steep fortress of Dios, north of the Gulph, and Antron by the seashore, and Pteleon couched in grass in its rock-bound bay, and rugged Olizon with the sea on both sides of it. But, for the sake of my timid maid, whom I bade to be comforted, I said that we would not risk any more insults among the Romans.

For which cause, sped by Love’s wings, we sailed northward, passing leafy Pelion on the left: but, anon, having come to the small port of Myrai at the foot of mighty Ossa, there we cast anchor in a secluded roadstead in the middle of the night. And, uncovering my silver-shining chariot, we untwisted the knots which bound it to the ship, and prepared it for a journey on land.

But I left my well-benched galley in charge to Neandros and Thalos, bidding them to hold it ready for me anywhen, but perhaps after a long absence. And when we had mounted to our places, the divine one of goddesses pulled the silver chain; and Love, our charioteer, lived in his silver image, and flew with wide-swept wings, hooting for joy because we were beginning the last stage of our journey to lofty Olympos.

Aurora, mother of morning, rose from her couch in the sea when we traversed the lovely vale of Tempe, fresh with glittering dew, where the night-mists rose from Peneys’ diminished flood. Helios Hyperion lord of light, looked from the zenith at noon when we began to mount the long slopes which lead to the peak of Olympos. Hesperos, star of evening, gleamed in the violet sky when we came to the little shrine by the Holy Well, beyond which no mortal foot has trod.

The priest came out, marvelling that travellers should arrive at that hour: for most men fear the mountain after nightfall, believing it to be improper for them to go very near the paths which the gods tread in their nocturnal journeys. But he marvelled still more, when he saw what manner of travellers we were, and the silver-shining chariot pulsating like a creature having sweet life during the first few moments after long-robed Helen had released our charioteer pulling the silver chain. But I and the priest led the daughter of Zeys the Swan to the guest-chamber of the shrine, there to pass the night: for we were unwilling to approach the abode of the blessed gods, dishevelled and weary and stained with travel. But, after we had dismissed hunger, having supped, I indeed went out to pass the night in the open, keeping a vigil by my silver-shining armour with adornments of rock-crystals and blue moonstones, and communing with my lordly mind.

And, when the night was waning, and near was the dawn, and the stars had gone upward, and the night had advanced more than two watches, but the third watch was still left, then, indeed, I cleansed the dust from my monstrous chariot, burnishing the silver of it and the crabs and moons inlaid in lustrous mother-of-pearl, till it shone like a white flame. But the silver image of Love, larger than life, blindfolded, naked, most alluringly proportioned, poised on the front of the rail with his well-winged arms spread abroad in the very act of taking flight, this, indeed, I treated as a man would treat his own large ruddy son in a bath if he were a god. For I washed it all over with a sponge, going firmly into every crevice where dirt might obscenely lodge; and I dried it delicately with soft linen, polishing the smooth-gleaming skin and rubbing in soft oil with my hands. And, opening the secret recesses of the chariot, I poured in fresh water and oil, so that the well-carved wheels might freely revolve in courses. But I did also in like manner with my armour, giving it a radiance as of the serene and vivid moon in springtime. And, having stripped myself to bathe in the ice-cold limpid water gushing from the Holy Well (for with pure body and pure mind the wise man approaches the blessed gods), then, indeed, I put on my glorious armour: first, the well-shaped greaves for my legs, covered with rock-crystals and blue moonstones and fitted with clasps: then, the white leathern kirtle with taslets of silver lapping about my reins, clothing my body above with my coat of silver mail, and the corslet on my breast and back and shoulders also of hammered silver plates with adornments of rock-crystals and blue moonstones. But I suspended from my shoulders the sword in its silver sheath and the silver quiver of arrows gleaming with moony gems. But, on my head, I placed the glittering helmet with a towering crest of the prides of nine white peacocks; and dreadfully the plume nodded from above. And I shod my feet with the well-made sandals of white leather, taking the great black singing bow well-fitted to my hand, and the great and sturdy shield bright as the moon. But I covered myself with the vast trailing mantle of silver tissue lined with white fur, clasped with the scintillating signs of the Moon and the Crab. And the sheen of my splendour reached heaven, when I stood stamping and gnashing my teeth: nor was I fearful of meeting my peer anywhere, even in the precincts of the immortals.

But, when golden-throned Dawn arose from her ocean-bed, I led the divine one of goddesses, fresh and pure as a pearl in a setting of red gold, to her place in the chariot; and I mounted beside her. But she pulled the silver chain; and young Love dived headlong out of heaven into his image; and the silver image lived, sweeping his wide wings, swimming in the higher air, with triumphant trumpetings and merry whirring of wheels, toward the wall of cloud which shrouds the city of the gods, the habitation of Great Zeys.

Thus, brilliantly blazing and swift as a flash of white thunder I entered lofty Olympos.

THE TWENTY-FIFTH PAPYRUS

The Hora Eirene, warden of the gate, challenged us: whom Golden Helen answered, giving the password, demanding free passage as a daughter of Great Zeys. But Hermes, my grandsire, and the Great Twins, and boldly-steadfast Herakles, stood within the gate ready to greet us. Moreover, the golden streets were thronged with the beautiful children of gods and heroes, scattering amaranthine diadems. Thus, we went to the palace and the areiopagos of the immortals.

But King Zeys, the father of gods and men, sat on his clouded throne, with Queen Hera of the white arms (the most righteous of goddesses) who had hundred-eyed peacocks about her. But, on the right and left, were other thrones inhabited by all the gods and goddesses, whose courtiers were immortal youths innumerable having limbs of flaming whiteness and rayed hair. There, was Pan the lord of woodlands, and loose-haired Iakhos Dionysos the son of fire washed by water-nymphs, and Phoibos Apollon lord of the silver bow, and Artemis beautiful queen of arrows, and tameless Pallas Athene of the dark Aigis, and blameless Aphrodite of the violet crown, and silver-footed Thetis unhappy mother of the noblest son, and even King Poseidon of loud-roaring white horses: but shady King Hades (the most righteous of gods) was absent for reasons of health, and his black throne gaped void. But my heart was leaping for joy in my dear breast: for I was aware that the fifth prediction, which innocent Thalos made when he looked into the palm-mirror, was in fact being realized. For indeed the silver god and the golden goddess were standing before many gods and goddesses.

But astute Hermes, the yellow-wanded luck-bringer and soul-guide, signed me with silence. He rose in his place among the glorious immortals; and began to expound my cause. Thus, then, he spoke: “O Father and King of gods and men, before this conclave of divine ones stands the steadfast goodly Odysseys, the much-enduring contriver of innumerable wiles, who claims as a sweet guest-gift the hand of Golden Helen, the exiled daughter of Thee the Swan, in honourable nuptials.”

To whom Great Zeys responded, saying: “Odysseys, we know; and Helen, we know. But never before has one of the sons of men aspired to lead in open marriage a goddess, daughter of the race of the Kronides. Hitherto, indeed, passing (but none the less vehement) passions, or transient (but none the less perfervid) affections, have been the utmost relations between immortals and mortals. For we gods are severe, envious above others; and we grudge that immortals shall mate with mortals, when anyone shall take a dear wife or a husband: as when rosy-fingered Eos took Orion (that stalwart hunter), so long the gods who lived easily envied her, until chaste Artemis of the golden throne slew him, attacking him with her mild weapons. Moreover, the thing also is new: for, whereas, heretofore, gods and goddesses have loved mortal women and men in secret, now, this Odysseys, boundless in audacity, openly demands a goddess-bride before all the court of heaven. Wherefore, lest we be captured in some snare of this notoriously-wily one, we require that eloquent Hermes (his sponsor) shall give good and sufficient reason for such artless candour, such ingenuous presumption.”

Hermes came down from his own throne among the divine immortals, passing the throne of radiant Phoibos Apollon, the bright one, the pure one, crowned with the sun in his splendour; and he took thence the lyre which he himself had made for the master of the music, fashioned out of the hollow shell of a crab like polished translucent amber and obsidian, from which sprang the silvery horns of unicorns to the olive-wood cross-bar, pegged, and fitted with nineteen strings.

He came down, to the clear blue ætherial floor studded with golden stars, in the sight of all, like a princely youth in youth’s full bloom whose youth is very graceful, the largest and lithest and loveliest and wisest and most innocent ever seen, smooth and lissome and gleaming as living ivory, and his bare head crowned with clusters of honey-hued curls and a nimbus of sunbeams.

He came down; and cast (to the floor, by his feet) his purple mantle,--by his agile feet, shod with golden-winged sandals,--and laid his golden wand upon it, he lightly standing poised on one fair foot; and he rested the other on a stool, bending his sprightly knee.

He held the heavenly lyre on his thigh with his hollowed arm, leaning toward till it could not help kissing his beautiful youthful breast; and with a quill, he tried it note by note: but it sounded, deeply thrumming beneath his hands. And the young god sang under the notes of the lyre, a doubly-thrilling intonation, making an extemporaneous attempt, as full-grown boys at feasts sing with different voices, rivalling one another in turn.

He sang; and, at his song, my spirit reeled, so strong and passing sweet the strain. One universal smile it seemed, of joy beyond compare, unutterable gladness, imperishable life of peace and love, exhaustless wealth, illimitable power, the cup of health brimful, and bliss immeasurable. Such was his tone.

He sang; and, at his voice, my spirit lived again, that youthful heavenly sunny voice, which welled from his open well-sunned throat, not shrill like a boy’s nor clogged like a man’s, but full and vibrant, true as a bell, loud as gigantic trumpets, deep and clear as a limpid river, now high now low from middle notes ranging, strong and resonant as the voice of an ever-young god who is both boy and man, warbling unearthly melody around and above and between and below the golden warbling of the lyre.

He sang; and the faces of all the immortals became diaphanous with unimaginable radiance; and the steady godly eyes gleamed like fixed stars at the rapturous magic of his singing. For he sang of arms and the man, the deathless song of the man so ready at need, never so strong nor so fierce nor so terrible as when he (naked) fought fearful odds and a losing battle back to the wall, who wandered far and wide after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Ilion--the deathless song of much-contriving much-enduring Odysseys, and of all the deeds which ever I had done since the distant day when I, a great boy, met Helen, the divine one of goddesses, a tender girl, who watched me faring girded high through the ford of Eyrotas by rugged Lakedaimon; and of the doughty deeds which thenafter I did at the siege of Dardanian Ilion. He sang of my wily contrivance, the Wooden Horse, whereby at length we Argives took the city: of the wanderings of Golden Helen, and of mine: of our meeting again in torrid Egypt and our wooing there, and of how there I died, slain by unknowing Telegonos my own son and Kirke’s of the awful braided tresses. And, in a solemn slow low descant, he sang of how that was the first time, and the last, when ever I lay in the pure arms of Helen, being dead.

He paused; and the immortal gods wept softly, at the sadness of his song and the cruel fate which drove us ever here and there apart. And it was dusky eve.

He bowed his beautiful godly young breast for the lucky horns of the lyre to kiss again; and his wonderful fingers skilfully wielded the quill which awakened the delicate voice of the strings. And he sang of my far-future birth in the sea-girt island, kingdom of Victory queen of the stalwart stately Anglicans: of my sordid squalid lot there; and of the wily audacious ferocity of the deeds, which I did in contempt of all men, to deliver myself and to soar.

He sang of how I, grieving in mind because not one single honourable friend or companion came near me, but only rogues and tosspots and false traitors, set out to wander in strange lands, studying all divine mysteries and magic lore, seeking for wisdom everywhere. He sang of my marvellous deeds, summoning ghostly souls from the dead and bending them to my will: of how, in Egypt, I half-failed in the ordeal of the scorching staff; and of the consequence which befel. And, there, his sacred strain leaped, leaped like one who meets a sudden slimy toad sitting very still upon his way, leaped, and was still.

And the immortal gods kept silence. Night flung her violet mantle round the dome of heaven; and she pinned it with a star. But those resplendent faces scintillated like many moons in the violet luminous sheen, intense, immovable.

He took the lyre close to the warmth of his well-spread breast in the hollow of his shoulder, uplifting his stainless throat, singing with the well-struck strings. And he sang jewels five words long, which, on the stretched forefinger of all time, shall sparkle for ever, singing of my long fall backward through the rolling wheels of time: of my vision in the secret subterranean shrine at Thebes: of my voyage adown the sacred river of Egypt: of my coming to Tanis: of my doings with the hierarch Amenemhat; and of my flight to the open sea.

He sang of my magic invocation of the azure-haired earth-shaking lord of ocean: of the apparition of King Poseidon amiably-minded: of my going to the shrine of far-darting Phoibos Apollon at Delphi, and the oracle chaunted by the levated Pythia: of my meeting unafraid with Pan, and his goodly gift of clear-seeing.

He sang (and his cadences rippled) of my furious drive down hill, over the rivers of cold and of flame, for the third time into the world of the dead.

He stretched out all the slim lithe strength of his ivory limbs, lambent and supple and warm with refulgent youth, to the heavenly lyre. His fair throat poured forth a stronger canorous strain, thrilled with unspeakable splendour. And he sang of the singing of Golden Helen in exile: to whose sweet anthem, all the blissful court, from all parts answering, rang.

He sang of how I escaped from fetters and dungeon: of how my wiles and my audacity and my endurance, sneered-at or scorned by men, made great gods glad to serve me: of the fight of the six champions, sons of kings and mighty heroes all. And Herakles, glory of Hera, burst into boisterous blubberings, inasmuch as he had had no part in so finely finished an affray.

He sang of my treatment of titans: of the wounding of shady Hades of recording mind, inexorable king of the land of the shades. And all the gods and goddesses cried aloud, beating on their blessed knees, because of the sheer stupendous magnificence of my audacity.

He sang so divine a song, that even fancy’s ear records it not, and the pen must pass on, leaving a blank: for, nor mortal speech, nor even the inward shaping of the mind has colour fine enough to paint the sweet great strain of his nectar, flower-like, fertile of song. He sang of my wonderful journey out of the netherworld: of the swift death of my shipmen, fearful, when they saw my mysterious coming: of my lonely voyage in my unoared sail-less galley over the windless sea.

He sang the cause of my coming, which was Love, the Crown of all Wisdom.

He sang of the sturdy unswerving indomitable force, reward of my wiles and my audacity and my endurance, which had brought me bearing spoils, even the Treasure of Hades, from out of the deep and the shade, to the height of the peak of lofty Olympos. It was Love, all-conquering Love.

Such was the close of his marvellous melody. And, as the last tone thrilled, strong as a proclamation, Echo caught the strain, repeating ever lowly, and more low, from sphere to sphere, LOVE ... Love ... Love ... Love.

Rosy-fingered Dawn, crowned with auroral coronal, flung wide the gates of day: Helios Hyperion began to drive in scintillating splendour across the sky: the rays of the rising sun splashed beams of golden light over the clouded throne of the Father and King of gods and men, when Hermes finished singing thus for me before the areiopagos of the blessed gods.[60]

FOOTNOTES:

[60] It would be most improper to attempt to pick out the multifarious quotations which adorn this extremely lovely poem. Those of us who had the privilege of Mr. C.’s acquaintance in his recent life, cannot but admire the stupendous erudition which enabled him to blend the Bible with Homer, Dante Alighieri with Meleagros of Gadara, etc., etc., etc., with such perfectly chiselled facility. A. H.

THE TWENTY-SIXTH PAPYRUS

But King Zeys Pampator sat up, and said: “What, O divine ones inhabiting olympian palaces, think ye now of this Odysseys?”

And they answered: “He is a hero.”

But boldly-steadfast Herakles rose from his throne, saying, in a voice even louder than Stentor’s: “He is worthy of a chair in our college of immortals.”

And the gods and goddesses sang together, making the _Sign_, “So mote it be.”

But the Lord of the Lightning and the Dark Cloud spoke again, saying: “What, O divine ones inhabiting olympian palaces, think ye now of Golden Helen?”

And they answered: “She is a spoil well-won.”

But chaste Artemis, beautiful queen of arrows, rose from her throne, saying: “Let the hero wear his spoil.”

And the gods and goddesses sang again together, making the _Sign_, “So mote it be.”

But I saw that there were some who did not join in the voting; and one of those was Queen Hera of the white arms, the most righteous of goddesses; and another was blameless Queen Aphrodite of the violet crown: the first, because it is bitter for a woman to be supplanted in her husband: the second, because of jealousy on account of Queen Helen’s transcendent beauty.

But the Father and King of gods and men said: “It pleaseth us; and so, we, of our own free will, command that it shall be.”

And, saying this, he nodded with his immortal head, so that I might be encouraged. For the nod of Zeys is the greatest pledge among the immortals: for his pledge, even whatsoever he shall sanction with his nod, is irrevocable, not false, nor unfulfilled. And, in the sight of all, he drew me from Golden Helen’s side, out of my silver chariot, where we had been standing together during a day and a night enraptured with the singing of Hermes. And he breathed upon me, so that my mortal nature was blown away from me: but I bathed in the breath of the god, being soaked in the source of the fire of eternal youth, the prime and flower of strength; and such red blood as was in my veins was sublimed, giving place to crystalline ichor, very pure and limpid, such, to wit, as flows in the veins of the blessed gods: for we eat no bread, nor drink gleaming wine, wherefore we are bloodless and are named immortals.

And, while I was yet encompassed with the thick clouds of the god, beautiful dark Sleep was permitted to light upon my eyelids; and I slept, as a sweet boy sleeps, dreamlessly.

But, when, at length, I awakened, I was in another place. And Phoibos Apollon, lord of the silver bow, and strenuous Herakles whom not Hera but Eros could conquer, were come to conduct me to the marriage-feast. And they spoke of many things: saying that the immortals were rejoicing in the happiness of so wily a warrior and so fair a maid, save only the lord Hermes who (after his long singing during a day and a night) was curing a relaxed larynx, and also shady King Hades who was raging horribly on account of painful perforations, and swearing that neither I nor Golden Helen need ever think to expect hospitality from him again. So, with mirthful minds and smiling lips, we set out all light-heartedly.

The divine one of goddesses was brought by her Great Twin Brothers, star-crowned Kastor the tamer of horses and Polydeykes the pugilist. But, before she came to stand with me at the throne of King Zeys, then, indeed, divine Memory illumined my noble mind, shewing me a remembrance of a most graceful _Spell_. And, instantly, I stooped to the limpid river which flows through the clear blue ætherial realm, taking a handful of crystal water, a sacred lavation, wherewith to sprinkle the maid whose hair was like a web of woven sunbeams, saying the _Spell of The Three Who are One_. And all the immortals bowed their radiant heads, greatly admiring the magic.

But, after the nuptials, we feasted, eating purple ambrosial jellies, dainties, such as Zeys-nourished kings eat, with savours of unblemished hecatombs, and quaffing foaming flagons of nectar distilled from the apples of heaven and flavoured with roses and rosemary: till, at last, rustic Pan threw nuts on the floor, for Love and Desire and Sleep and Death and Hyakinthos and the cupbearers and other children to scramble for. But, when we had drunk a last cup to Hermes the Luck-bringer, I led Queen Helen to the palace which mighty Herakles had lent to us. For that hero was shewing himself very friend-like to me, on account of my wily deeds and my long endurance of evils, since he also had done deeds and suffered intolerable evils in his turn. Moreover, the said hero was very well-mannered and able to rule himself, wherein he differed from many of the immortals. And, beside all these things, he was the most married man on the peak of Olympos: for which cause, no doubt, he was excited about my welfare.

In this manner was the Crown of All Wisdom confirmed to me, when, having been chaired in the college of immortals, I led Queen Helen, the Treasure of Hades, into sacred matrimony, in the presence of the gods of Olympos.

THE TWENTY-SEVENTH PAPYRUS

When, at length, we were alone with Love, then, indeed, Golden Helen kissed me.

I, in sooth, had kissed her in the house of blameless Hades, before the combat of the heroes: but she had not returned the sweet embrace. And now she told me the reason: saying that it is an immutable law that an immortal goddess, who kisses a mortal man in honourable love, thereby fulminates him. Wherefore, when (in Egypt) I was warring against the five nations, more than a thousand years before, and when Telegonos wounded me near the blooming groin with his dark arrow, then, sweet Helen (mad with fear and love) kissed me, staying me in her arms in the battle at the mouth of sacred Sihor. Of which arrow-wound, I should not have died: but, of the kiss, her first, I died. So, lest I should again be lost to her, she had not kissed me in the house of shady Hades. But, now that I was immortal, as was she the divine one of goddesses, Golden Helen kissed me.

And, anon, she said: “Lord king and husband of me, seeing that we rejoice in happiness, being immortal and mingled in love, so that we have no desire unsatisfied, let us be merciful to one who hateth us and kind to him who has wronged us: for, indeed, it is not right continually to be enraged in one’s mind.”

But this was a most strange saying, whereat I wondered gravely: for such ways had not been taught to Golden Helen, nor were they known at that time. And then I remembered the grace conveyed by that most mighty magic, the sacred lavation and the _Spell of The Three Who are One_, which, in a mystery, I had been moved to work upon her before our nuptials. And then I was not affrighted by any more amazement.

But she was embracing my knees, continuing to speak, saying: “Go, now, dear lord and husband, faring immortally to Khalkis in holy Eyboia; and take also sweet white Death with thee. And, having entered to Anthemius Cotta the Roman governour, let the pale god draw from his breast gently the torch of his life, quenching its flickering flame, so that his body may rest from its torments. For he is unfit to continue alive and in health. But, though he would have despitefully used me, I am unwilling that he should writhe much longer in anguish, being irremediably mutilated.”

Thus she spoke: but I kissed the pitiful maid again, rejoicing at the grace which was replenishing her. And, having summoned kindly Death, together we went, faring invisibly from lofty Olympos with the speed of a thought: for we immortals in nowise appear visibly to everybody. But, when we came to Khalkis after the middle of the night, when night is darkest, then I took the divine white child, silent, garlanded with asphodel, by his frosty hand leading him; and, so, we entered the chamber of the Roman governour, plain for all to see.

He lay upon a bed, mangled and shapeless, moaning in the throes of his torments. But, when the slaves, physicians, watching beside him, saw me radiant in silver armour with adornments of rock-crystals and blue moonstones, and the pale young god purer and colder than glittering frost, standing in presence manifest in an aureola of moonbeams, then they fell on their faces and were much afraid.

But I addressed the moribund, saying: “Uneasy Anthemius, know that Queen Helen, daughter of Great Zeys, whom thou didst use despitefully, wills to release thee from these earthly pangs which are but a just penance for thy crimes. Nevertheless, the divine one of goddesses bids thee to enjoy the blessed rest of death, gaining remittance of sufferings.”

Thus I spoke; and I uttered the _spell_ which unchains the soul from the body. And white Thanatos stooped, with his tender young frigid fingers drawing the torch of life from the Roman’s bloody breast; and, blowing upon it, he extinguished its flickering flame. And Anthemius sighed, and was comforted, retiring to the world of shades.

But we returned to the peak of Olympos, before he had reached the netherworld.

* * * * *

Now, when we had dwelled in the palace of Herakles during the full course of the moon, then, indeed, Great Zeys ordained to employ me in a certain duty. For it is the custom on the threshold of the immortals that, whoever shall be raised to the rank of a godly hero and endowed with immortality, must visit in person the courts of strange gods, announcing his own apotheosis and receiving recognition. Wherefore, the cloud-compelling son of Khronos bade me to prepare for my progress: but to astute Hermes was assigned the task of inscribing letters-patent for exhibition to all barbarian theocracies.

For, as do earth-dwelling kings, each having power and dominion over his own people, so also do the gods, each having power and dominion over his own worshippers. And, upon occasions, disputes arise among the various dynasties inhabiting the wide-rolling heavens, and wars and fearful conflicts follow, when the high gods fight among themselves for lordship over the hearts of men. In which quarrels, the divine ones of the Argive race are ever to the fore and very ready at need: seeing that the nations of the Argives are wont to stablish colonies, daughter-cities, in barbarian lands, crossing the unvintaged sea, whereto they carry a sacred fire from their mother-city; and they pray not to the strange gods of the barbarians among whom they dwell, but to the familiar gods of their dear motherland. Furthermore, the strange gods of the barbarians sometimes send solemn embassages of heroes to the king of gods and men, bearing complaints, because their rites go unrecognized by the Argives inhabiting their domains. Then, indeed, Great Zeys, having taken counsel with the olympian immortals, returns a just decision in like manner. At other times, dire complications unexpectedly arise, when the strange gods send plagues (perchance of rats or dragons), or pestilences (perchance of bad blind boils), or even famines, to punish the prepotence or the impiety of their blameless barbarians; and, by chance, one of the Argive colonists perishes by reason of the scourge. Then, indeed, loud-thundering Zeys inflames himself with mighty wrath, when his dear Argive folk fall victims to the clumsiness of the indiscriminating gods of the so-sinful barbarians; and he exacts a compensation. But the immortal gods love not to war overmuch among themselves, their battles being terrific and the issues not unusually thankless.

And it chanced that, at the time when I reached my chair in the college of the immortals and of my blissful nuptials, that there was a matter of feud between us and the theocracy of Juppiter Stator. For the Latin gods, very stolid, very bucolic, were claiming the worship of the whole Argive race throughout the earth. And they, rash and overweening, alleged that, as the fair Argive land had submitted to their bloody Romans, so, also, Olympian Zeys ought to acknowledge as his blooming suzerain their Capitoline Juppiter.

For which cause, long-enduring and tiresome and tedious conversations of high diplomacy were striving to adjust the dispute without appeal to the arbitrament of war. But a regrettable incident was likely to occur at any moment: for Ares, bane of mortals, weary of the arts of peace, paraded himself daily wearing shield and sword; and boldly-steadfast Herakles, weary of the arts of husbandry, was carving a collection of most mind-delighting clubs; and my own sweet cousin, Perseys of the sea, the most renowned of heroes, weary of the arts of love, was all agog to meet monsters more worthy than pterodactyls in deadly strife. Wherefore, the Father and King of gods and men bade me to visit, first, those strange gods who were known not to be unfriendly; and, then, to proceed to Rome: so that, returning to Olympos directly from the court of Juppiter Stator, I might bring back the very latest account of the negociations.

And, having embraced me and Queen Helen, very mighty Zeys gave us our charters fairly written out by cunning Hermes, my grandsire, who first brought letters and the art of writing into the Argive land.

Thus, as an immortal, I began to go about the work of the immortals.

THE TWENTY-EIGHTH PAPYRUS

But we ascended the silver-shining chariot inlaid with crabs and moons in mother-of-pearl, a wonder to be seen, Love being our charioteer; and we flew afar to the remote regions of the skies, gazing (from time to time, and with certain thoughts) on the grain-giving earth below.

Now there were certain dynasties of gods, such as those of Anahoyak and Nippon and Serica,[61] with whom the Olympians dealt but rarely: for they were of a secretive nature, nor did they exactly welcome guests from afar, but rather did they slam the door of divine hospitality, excepting when rare embassages brought news of very grave matters. And, indeed, no such embassage had been sent from lofty Olympos across the streams of ocean since Pantokrator Zeys sent pious Deykalion announcing his accession to the throne of Khronos. For which cause, it was not deemed necessary that I and Queen Helen should fare so far to visit divine ones whose very names cannot be written in the Argive tongue.