Section 39 of the junior classics, Volume 3, tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. The Foot Race by H. L. Havel In E.S. now led the way to a level grassy plain surrounded by hills, and displayed the prizes for the next event, which was the Foot Race. Every competitor was to receive two arrows, the choice workmanship of Cretan armourers, and a battle axe chased with silver. And besides these, three special prizes were offered, a war horse, splendidly comparisoned for the first, a quiver of Thracian arrows, with a rich baldrick of goldwork fastened by a dueled buckle for the second, and for the third, a helmet won in battle from the Greeks. Quite a crowd of runners assembled at the starting place, and conspicuous among them was seen Uralis, a boy of great beauty, and Nysus, his friend, who loved him as a father. The law line was brought level, the signal was given, and away they went, Nysus taking the lead, followed at a long interval by Salius, a youth of Greek descent. Uralis again at some distance held the third place, and after him came Hellimus, a Sicilian, hotly pursued by Dioris, a Trojan of the royal race of Prim. Nysus, still keeping the lead, was already within sight of the goal when he unwearily trod on a muddy place, wet with the blood of Oxen which had been offered in the late sacrifice. He stumbled, reeled, recovered himself, and then fell headlong in the mire. But even at that moment he did not forget his friend Uralis, but staggering to his feet, flung himself in the way of Salius as he came up, and both rolled together on the ground. The field was thus left open for Uralis, who flew past the winning post an easy victor amidst a thunder of applause, for his youth and beauty had won all hearts. Hellimus came in second, and Dioris third. Ines was engaged in bestowing the prizes on the three winners, as the custom was, at the conclusion of the race, when Salius came up and began to stun the ears of the judges with his complaints. The first prize is mine, he protested, laying his hand on the bridle of the horse, in spite of the tearful remonstrances of Uralis and the loud clamour of Dioris, who saw himself threatened with the loss of his prize. The dispute was stopped by the authority of Ines, and the ruffled Salius was soothed by the gift of a magnificent lion skin with gilded claws. Hereupon, Nysos came limping up, dogged from head to foot with mud. If you pity the fallen, said he to Ines, what an eye to have as a consolation prize! Ines smiled graciously at the rueful figure of Nysos, and presented him with a shield richly chased by a Grecian artist, and thus both winners and losers were sent away happy and satisfied. End of section 39. Section 40 of the junior classics, volume 3, Tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. The Boxing Match by H. L. Havel A young bull with gilded horns, and a fine sword and helmet were next displayed as prizes for the Boxing Match. This was a terrible and murderous struggle, fraught with peril to life and limb, for the boxers fought with their hands encased in gloves of hard leather, often weighted with iron and lead, called the Cestus. One champion alone appeared ready to bear his part in this heroic sport. He was a Trojan named Darius, and the son of the famous boxer Amicus, who had been killed by Pollux during the voyage of the Argonauts. The fame of Darius was well known among his comrades, and no one seemed inclined to dispute his supremacy in the ring. Accordingly, Darius, who had been showing off his muscle before the crowd, and dealing tremendous buffets to an imaginary antagonist, strutted up to Aeneas and, laying his hand on the bull, claimed him as his awful prize, but he was not to be allowed to triumph so easily. Among the spectators, there stood a man already advanced in years, but of gigantic stature and massive build. Aesthes, who was standing near him, now addressed him in terms of reproach. Antelus, wilt thou suffer this braggart to carry off the prize without a blow? Has thou forgotten thy divine master, Eryx? Or fearest thou the face of this blustering bully? I fear no man, answered Antelus, but I am old, and my joints are stiff, while that fellow is young and lusty. The greedy knave, he cares for nothing but the prize. What do you think of these? he cried, stepping into the ring, and flaying down a ponderous pair of cestus of tough bulls hide, stiffened with lead and iron. Darius recoiled at the sight of these frightful weapons, and refused to face an opponent armed in such fashion. What would you have thought if you had seen the gauntlets with which Hercules fought? Asked Antelus, turning to Aeneas, who had picked up the formidable gloves and was examining them with amazement. These, which you see, were worn by your brother Eryx when he stood up against Hercules. But I will take no advantage, lend me another pair, and we will fight with equal weapons. The change was made. Antelus stripped and took up his station in the middle of the arena, confronting Darius, who, powerful as he was, looked a mere stripling as he faced the athletic veteran. Then the boxers raised themselves to their full height, with heads drawn back, and the battle began. Darius was far superior in speed and agility, while Antelus, who could have crushed him in his arms, was slow on his feet and short of wind. There was a rapid interchange of blows, and the air rang with the clatter of the hard gauntlets as Darius manoeuvred nimbly round his huge antagonist who stood rooted like an oak in his place, parrying the blows. Suddenly Antelus saw an opening and put in a heavy stroke with all the force of his ponderous right arm. Darius stepped lightly aside, and Antelus, carried forward by the impetus of his own blow, lost his balance and came down with a sounding thud on the turf. A shout of mingled triumph and dismay quitted the fall of the Sicilian champion, and his friends rushed forward to help him to his feet. But neither dulled nor dismayed by his fall, that mighty man returns keener to the battle and kindles strength with rage. All the vigor of his youth comes back to him, and he chases Darius headlong round and round the ring. Now with his right hand raining blows, now with his giant left. No rest, no pause, like hailstones rattling on the roof, so shower the strokes of those iron hands on the head of the hapless Darius. At last Ines interposed and stopped the unequal combat. Darius was born, shattered and fainting from the ring, and Antelus, crowned with the victor's wreath, took possession of the bull. Now mark, he said, Ines, and learn ye Trojans, what force was in this arm in the days of my prime, and what death Darius has escaped.  The skull was splintered as if by a sledgehammer, and prostrate, lifeless, quivering, on earth lay the bull. That was the blow which I designed for Darius, said the giant, but the bull is a worthier sacrifice to the shed of my master, Eryx. I have fought my last round, and now I will hang up my gauntlets in his shrine. End of section 40. Section 41 of the junior classics, volume 3, Tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. The Contest of the Archers by H. L. Havel. Now gallant archers, try your skill, said Ines, pointing to a tall mast which had been set up in the middle of the plane, with a dove fluttering above it, fastened by the leg with a slender cord. Lots were drawn to determine the order of shooting, and the archers, among whom were Menestheus, winner of the third prize in the boat race, Eurythion, brother of the famous Panderas, and the aged Achestes, took up their stations. The first arrow struck the mast. Then Menestheus, who had drawn the second place, took steady aim, but missing the bird, chanced to sever the cord which bound her to the mast. Up flew the dove, and remained hovering in the air above their heads. Eurythion now raised his bow high above his head, and calling on his brother's name, set an arrow straight into the air, and brought down the bird, just as she was preparing for a distant flight. He have left me no mark to aim at, said Achestes. But see, there is vigor left still in these old arms of mine. And he drew his arrow to the head, and sent an arrow whizzing towards the cloud. Then followed a strange portent, which kept all the prophets busy for many a day. For as they watched the flying shaft, it burst into flames, and shooting across the sky with a trail of light, burnt away, and vanished from view, like a meteor in the nights of winter. Hail, fiery messenger of heaven's will, cried Achestes joyfully, and hail to thee, father and friend, repeated Ineos, grasping his hand. Thine was the best shot of all, and I will bestow on thee a gift of honour, since by thy hand was wrought this wonder, and Jove himself has blessed thine archery. And he gave him a silver goblet, embossed with choice designs, which was a treasured heirloom in his family. The great multitude now stood hushed in expectation, for the most brilliant event of the day was reserved to the last. As soon as the arena was cleared, Ineos gave a sign to Epitodes, the faithful guardian and companion of the young Eolus. And presently a murmur arose on the outskirts of the crowd, swelling to a great shout, as a troop of youthful horsemen rode into the arena in three divisions. In each division were twelve boys, all armed with javelins, all crowned with olive wreaths, and all wearing chains of gold. At the head of each band rode its boyish captain. First was seen the son of Polytes, named after his grandsire, Priam, mounted on a brave chestnut with white markings on forehead and forehoof. Then followed the second line, led by Attis, whose name descended to a noble Roman house. Little Attis loved in his boyhood by the young Eolus. And last, and fairest of all, came Eolus himself, riding a gallant steed of Arab race, which he had received as a gift from the fair hand of Dido. Loud was the applause among the Trojans as they watched that pretty pageant of childish chivalry, and traced their father's likeness on the blushing faces of the happy boys. Having ridden slowly round the arena, they drew up in a body, facing the spot where Ineos and the Trojan nobles were seated round their host. Then Epitodes gave the signal with a loud crack of his whip, and partied again into three separate troops. They couched their weapons and made a mimic charge. But, avoiding the shock at the moment of meeting, rank passed through rank, wheeled again, and returned to the encounter. And so they threaded all the mazes of a war-like dance, in which attack and retreat, rally, and hand-to-hand assault were pictured in living colours on the level green. End of section 41. Section 42 of the junior classics, volume 3, Tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. The Sibyl speaks to Ineos, by Alfred J. Church. Ineos finally came to the land of Italy, Nigh and Tocome, which was the dwelling place of the Sibyl. The men turned the four part of the ships to the sea, and made them fast with anchors. Then they leapt forth upon the shore, and kindled a fire, and some cut wood in the forest, or fetched water from the stream. But Ineos went up to the great cave of the Sibyl, where, by the inspiration of Apollo, she foretelleth things to come. Now the temple was a marvellous place to look upon. On the doors thereof was set forth, graven in stone, the death of Androgios, and the men of Attica, choosing by lot, seven of their children, who should be given, as a ransom yearly. And rising from the sea upon the other side, the land of Crete. Likewise, the labyrinth was there, and its winding ways. But Icarus they saw not, for when his father would have wrought the manner of his death in gold, his hands failed him. Twice he strove, and twice they failed. And when Ineos would have looked further, the priestess said, Linger not with these things, but slay forthwith seven bullocks from the herd, and seven sheep duly chosen out of the flock. And when they came to the cave, now there are a hundred doors, and a voice comeeth forth from each. The civil cried, It is time, lo, the God, the God! And even as she spake, her look was changed, and the colour of her face. Also her hair was loosened, and her breast panted, and she waxed greater than is the stature of a man. Then she cried, Do layest thou to pray, Ineos of Troy? Do layest thou? For the doors open not but to prayer. Nor said she more. Then Ineos prayed, saying, O Phoebus, who didst always pity the sorrows of Troy, and didst guide the arrow of Paris, that it slew the great Achilles, I have followed thy bidding, journeying over many lands, and now I lay hold on this shore of Italy, which ever seemed to fly before me. Grant, thou, that our ill fortune follow us no more, and all ye gods and goddesses, who loved not Troy, be merciful to us. And now, O prophetess, give, if it may be, such answer as I would hear, so will I and my people honour thee forever, and write it not, I pray thee, upon leaves, lest the winds carry them away, but speak with thy voice. And for a while the prophetess strove against the spirit, but at the last it mastered her, and the doors flew open, and she spake, saying, The perils of the sea thou hast escaped, but there await the yet-worsh perils upon the land. The men of Troy shall come to the kingdom of Lavinium, fear not for that. Yet will they feign not have come. I see battles, and the tiber, forming with blood, and a new Xanthus and Simois, and another Achilles, himself also goddess-born, Juno, also, shall be ever against thee, and thou shalt be a suplent to many cities, and the cause of all these woes shall be again a woman. Only yield not, though, but go ever more boldly when occasion shall serve. Little think is, though, that thy first succour shall be from a city of the Greeks. And when she had ended these words, Ines made answer, Oh, lady, no toil or peril shall take me unawares, for I have thought over all things in my heart. But one thing I ask of thee, Here is the door of the dwellings of the dead. Fain would I pass thereby, that I may visit my father. I carried him on my shoulders out of the fires of Troy, and with me he endured many things by land and sea, more than befitted his old age. Likewise he bade me ask this boon of thee. Do thou therefore pity both father and son, for thou hast the power, if only thou wilt. Did not Orpheus bring back his wife from the dead, having his harp only? Also Pollux go with many times this same path, redeeming his brother from death. And why should I tell of Theseus and Hercules? And I also am of the lineage of Jupiter.  The door is open day and night, but to return, and struggle to the upper air, that is the labour. Few only have done it, and these of the lineage of the gods and dear to Jupiter. Yet if thou wilt attempt it, harken unto me. Their life hid in the forest a bow of gold, which is sacred to the Queen of Hell. Nor may any man go on this journey, till he hath plucked it, for the Queen will have it as a gift for herself. And when the bow is plucked, there ever groweth another. And if it be the pleasure of the gods that thou go, it will yield to thy hand. But know that one of thy companions lieeth dead upon the shore. First must thou bury him, and after offer due sacrifice, even black sheep. So shall thou approach the dwellings of the dead. Then Anes departed from the cave, and Akhetes went with him, and much they wondered who it might be that was dead. And when they came to the shore, lo, misenus lay there, than whom no man was more skillful to call men to battle with the voice of the trumpet. Hector's companion he had been in old time, and then followed Anes. And now, blowing his trumpet on the shore, he had challenged the gods of the sea to compare with him. Wherefore a triton caught him, and plunged him into the sea, so that he died. Then did Anes and his companions prepare for the burial, cutting islets and oak, and mountain ash from the wood. But when Anes beheld the forest, how vast it was, he said, Now I may the gods grant, that in this great forest, the bow of gold discover itself. And as he spake, lo, two doves flew before his face, and settled on the grass, and he knew them to be the birds of his mother, and cried, saying, Guide me now to the bow of gold, and thou my mother help me as before. Then the birds flew, so that he could still see them with his eyes, and he followed after them. But when they came to the mouth of Avernus, they sat both of them on the tree, and lo, the bow of gold glittered among the branches and rustled in the wind. Right gladly did Anes break it off, and carry it to the dwelling of the Sibyl. In the meantime, the men of Troy made a great burial for Mycenus on the shore, building a pile of wood, and washing and anointing the body. Also they laid the body on a beer, and on it the garments which he had worn being yet alive. Then others, with faces turned away, held a torch to the wood, whereon also were burnt incense and offerings of oil. And when the burning was ended, they quenched the ashes with wine, and Corineus gathered the bones into an urn of bronze, and purified the people, sprinkling them with water, with a bow of an olive tree. Then Ines made a great mound, and put thereon the trumpet of the man and his bow, and the mountain is called Mycenus after him to this day. But when the burial was ended, he did as the Sibyl had commanded. A great cavern there is, from which cometh so evil a stench that no bird may fly across. There they brought four black oxen, and the priestess poured wine upon their heads, and cut hairs from between their horns. And when they had burned these, they slew the oxen, holding dishes for the blood. And Ines offered a black lamb to the furies, and a barren heifer to the Queen of Hell, smiting them with his sword. Then they burned the entrails with fire, pouring oil upon them. Then did the ground give a hollow sound beneath them, and the dogs howled, for the goddess was at hand, and the priestess cried, Go ye who may not take part in this matter. And thou, Ines, draw thy sword from its sheath, and follow. Now hast thou need of all thy strength and courage. Then she plunged into the cave, and Ines went with her. End of section 42 Section 43 of the junior classics, volume 3, Tales from Grace and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. The Dwellings of the Dead by Alfred J. Church So they went together through the land of shadows, like unto men who walk through a wood in a doubtful light, when the moon indeed hath risen, but there are clouds over the sky. And first they came to where, in front of the gates of hell, dwell sorrow and remorse, and pale disease and fear, and hunger that tempteth men to sin, and want, and death, and toil, and slumber, that is death's kinsmen, and deadly war. Also they saw the chambers of the furies, and discord whose hair is of snakes that drip with blood, and in this region there is an ancient elm, in the boughs where oft well all manner of dreams, and shapes of evil monsters, as many as have been, such as were the centaurs, half man, half horse, and bryarius, with a hundred hands, and others also. These Ines, when he saw them, sought to slay, rushing upon them with the sword, but his guide warned him that they were shadows only. After this they came to the river of hell, whereon plies the boatman, Karan.  An old man he seemeth to be, but hail and ruddy. Now there was ever rushing to the bank a great crowd, wives and mothers, and valiant men of war, boys and girls dead before they were given in marriage, and young men laid on the funeral pyre before their parents' eyes. Thickly were as the leaves that fall to the earth at the first frost of autumn, or as the swallows, when they gather themselves together, making ready to fly across the sea to the lands of the sun. And of these Karan would take some into his boat, but others he would forbid, and drive from the shore. This, when Aeneas saw, he marveled, and said, Oh, lady, what meaneth this concourse at the river? What seek these souls? Why be some driven from the bank, and some ferried across? And the Sibyl made answer, This river that thou seest is the Styx, by which the gods in heaven swear, and fear to break their oath. Those whom thou seest to be driven from the bank are such as have lacked burial, but those who are ferried across have been buried duly, for none past this stream till their bodies have been laid in the grave, otherwise they wander for a hundred years, and so at last may cross over. Latched to Aeneas pity their ill fortune, and the more when he beheld Orontis and his Lyceans, whom the sea had swallowed up alive before his eyes. Here likewise there met him, his pilot, Palinurus, to whom, when he knew him, for indeed he scared could see him in the darkness, he said, What God took thee from us, and drowned thee in the sea? Surely in this one matter, Apollo hath deceived me, saying that thou shouldst escape the sea, and come to the land of Italy. Then answered Palinurus, not so great an Aeas, for indeed to the land of Italy I came. Three nights the south wind carried me over the sea, and on the fourth day I saw the land of Italy from the top of a wave, and when I swam to the shore and was now clinging to the rocks, my garments being heavy with water, the savage people came upon me and took me for a pray and slew me. And now the winds and the waves bear me about as they will, wherefore I pray thee, by thy father and Eulus, the hope of thy house, that thou deliver me from these woes. Go therefore I beseech thee to the haven of Velia, and cast earth upon me for burial, or give me now thy hand and take me with thee across the river. Then said the priestess, oh, Palinurus, what madness is this? Wilt thou without dew burial cross the river and look upon the awful faces of the furies? Think not that the fates can be changed by prayers, yet hear this and be comforted. They that slew thee, being sore troubled by many plagues, shall make dew expiation to thee and build a tomb and make offerings thereon year by year, and the place where they slew thee shall be called after thy name. Then he took comfort and departed. But when they came near to the river, the boatman beheld them and cried, Stay thou, whoever thou art, that comest armed to this river, and tell me what thou seekest. This is the land of shadows, of sleep and of night. The living may not be ferried in this boat. An evil day it was when I carried Hercules, Anthesius and Perthius, though they were children of the gods. For Hercules chained the watchdog of Hell and dragged him trembling from his master's seat. Anthesius and his friend sought to carry away the queen, even from the chamber of her husband. Then the Sibyl made an answer. Be not troubled. We come not hither with evil thoughts. Let the watchdog of Hell make the pale ghosts afraid. Let your queen abide in her husband's palace. We will not harm them. In airs of Troy cometh down to Hell that he may speak with his father. And if thou takest no account of such piety, yet thou wilt know this token. And she showed him the bow of gold. And when he saw it, he laid aside his anger, rejoicing to behold, now after many years, the marvellous gift. Then he brought near his boat to the bank and drove out the souls that were therein, and took on board Ineus and the priestess. Much did it groan with the weight, and the water poured apace through the seams thereof. Yet did they come safe across. Then they saw Cerberus, the watchdog in his cave, and to him the Sibyl gave a cake of honey and poppy seed, causing sleep. And this he swallowed, opening wide his three ravenous mouths, and straightway stretched himself out of sleep across the cave. After this they heard a great wailing of infants, even the voices of such as are taken away before they have had lot or part in life. And near to these were such as have died by false accusation, yet lack they not justice, for minus triumph their cause. And yet beyond, they that being guiltless have laid hands upon themselves, feign would they now endure hardships, being yet alive, but may not, for the river keeps them in, with his unlovely stream, as in a prison. Not far from these are the mourning fields, where dwell the souls of those that have died of love, as Procris, whom Cephalus slew in error, and Laodamia, who died of grief for her husband. And among these was Dido, fresh from the wound wherewith she slew herself. And when Ineus saw her darkly through the shadows, even as one who sees, or thinketh, that he sees, the new moon lately risen, he wept and said, Oh, Dido, it was truth then that they told me, saying that thou had slain thyself with the sword. Tell me, was I the cause of thy death? Loth was I, O Queen. I swear, by all it is most holy, in heaven or hell, to leave thy land. But the gods, at whose bidding I come hither this day, constrained me. Nor did I think that thou wouldst take such sorrow from my departure. But stay, depart not, for never again may I speak to thee, but this once only. So he spoke, and would feign have appeased her wrath. But she cast her eyes to the ground, and her heart was hard against him, even as a rock. And she departed into a grove that was hard by, wherein was her first husband, Sicius, who loved her even as he was loved. After this they came to the land where the heroes dwell, and there they saw Tidius, who died before Thebes, and Adrastus, and also many men of Troy, as the three sons of Antonor, and Ideus, who was the armour-bearer of King Priam, and bear the arms and brave the chariot yet. All these gathered about him, and would feign know wherefore he had come. But when the hosts of Agamemnon saw his shining arms through the darkness, they fled, as in old days they had fled to the ships. And some would have cried aloud, but could not, so thin are the voices of the dead. Among these he saw Davibus, son of Priam. Cruelly mangled was he, for his hands had been cut off, and his ears and his nostrils likewise. Scourge did Aeneas know him, and he himself, in shame, would have hidden his wounds. But the son of Anheises spake to him, saying, Who hath dealt so foully with thee, great Davibus?  Wherefore I built thee a tomb by the sea, and thrice called aloud thy name, but thee I found not, that I might lay thee therein. Then Davibus made answer, Thou hast left nothing undone, but hast paid me all due honour. But my ill fate and the accursed wickedness of the Spartan woman have destroyed me. How we spent that last night in idle rejoicings, thou knowest. And she, while the women of Troy danced before the gods, stood holding a torch on the citadel, as though she were their leader. Yet, in truth, she called therewith the Greeks from Tenedoth. But I lay overcome with weariness in my chamber. Then did she, a noble wife, forsooth, take all the arms out of the house, and my trusty sword also from under my head, and after, brought there unto many Laos, so hoping to do away her sin against him. And Ulysses also, all was ready with evil councils. What need of more? May the gods do so, and more also to them. But tell me, why hast thou come hither? And it was now past Noonday, and the two had spent, in top, all the allotted time. Therefore the Sibyls spake. Night cometh in Aes, and we waste the day in tears. Lo, here are two roads. This, on the right hand, leadeth to the palace of Pluto, and to the Elysian plains. And that, on the left, to Tartarus, the abode of the wicked. And Theophobus answered, Peanots wroth great priestess, I depart to my own place. Do thou, my friend, go on and prosper. But as in Aes looked round, he saw a great building, and a threefold wall about it, and round the wall a river of fire. Great gates there were, and a tower of brass, and the fury to Siphony sat as water. Also he heard the sounds of those that smote upon an anvil, and the clanking of chains, and he stood and said, What mean these things that I see and hear? Then the Sibyl made answer. The foot of the righteous may not pass that threshold, but when the Queen of Hell gave me this office, she herself led me through the place, and told me all. There sitteth Radamanthus, the Cretan, and judges the dead, and them that he condemned to Siphony taketh, and the gate which thou seest openeth to receive them, and within is a great pit, and the depth thereof is as the height of heaven. Herein lie the Titans, the sons of earth, whom Jupiter smote with the thunder, and herein the sons of Elias, who strove to thrust the gods from heaven, and Salmoneus, who would have mocked the thunder of Jupiter, riding in his chariot through the cities of Aelis, and shaking a torch, and giving himself out to be a god, but the lightning smote him in his pride. Also I saw Titius spread over nine acres of ground, and the vulture feeding on his heart, and over some hangs a great stone ready to fall, and some sit at the banquet, but when they would eat, the fury at their side forbids, and rises, and shakes her torch and thunders in their ears. These are they who, while they were yet alive, hated their brothers, or struck father or mother, or deceived one that trusted to them, or kept their riches for themselves, nor cared for those of their own household, a great multitude are they, or stirred up civil strife, and of these some roll a great stone, and cease not, and some are bound to wheels, and some sit forever crying, learn to do righteousness, and to fear the gods. And when the priestess had finished these words, they hastened on their way, and after a while she said, Lo, here is the palace, which the Cyclopes built for Pluto, and the Queen of Hell. Here we must offer the gift of the bow of gold. And this being accomplished, they came to the dwellings of the righteous. Here are green spaces with woods about them, and the light of their heaven is fuller and brighter than that which men behold, another sun they have, and other stars. Some of them contend together in wrestling and running, and some dance in measure, singing the while a pleasant song, and Orpheus, clad in a long robe, makes music, touching his heart, now with his fingers, and now with an ivory bow. Here did Ines marvel to see the mighty men of old, such as were Islas and Dardanis, builder of Troy. Their spears stood fixed in the earth, and their horses fed about the plain, for they love spear and chariot and horses, even as they love them upon earth. And others sat and feasted, sitting on the grass in a sweet-smelling grove of bay, whence flows the river which men upon the earth call the Poe. Here were they who had died for their country, and holy priests, and poets who had uttered nothing base, and such as had found out witty inventions, or had done great good to men. All these had snow-white garlands on their heads. Then spake the sable to Museus, who stood in the midst, surpassing them all in stature. Tell me, happy souls, where shall we find Ancaisus?  Then they beheld Ancaisus where he sat in a green valley, regarding the spirits of those who should be born in after-time of his race. And when he beheld Ancaisus coming, he stretched out his hands and cried, Come as thou, my son, hast thou won thy way hither to me? Even so I thought that it would be, and lo, my hope hath not failed me. And Ancaisus made answer, Ye, I have come a long way to see thee, even as thy spirit bade me, and now let me embrace thee with my arms. But when he would have embraced him, it was as if he clasped the air. Then Anacis looked and beheld a river, and a great company of souls thereby, thick as the bees on a calm summer day in a garden of lilies. And when he would know the meaning of the concourse, Ancaisus said, These are souls which have yet to live again in a mortal body, and they are constrained to drink of the water of forgetfulness. And Anacis said, Nay, my father, can any desire to take again upon them the body of death? Then Ancaisus made reply, Listen, my son, and I will tell thee all. There is one soul in heaven and earth, and the stars and the shining orb of the moon, and the great son himself, from which soul also cometh the life of man and of beast, and of the birth of the air, and of the fishes of the sea. And this soul is of a divine nature, but the mortal body maketh it slow and dull. Hence come fear and desire, and grief and joy, so that, being as it were, shut in a prison, the spirit beholdeth not any more the light that is without. And when the mortal life is ended, yet are not men quits of all the evils of the body, seeing that these must needs be put away in many marvellous ways. For some are hung up to the winds, and with some their wickedness is washed out by water, or burnt out with fire. But a ghostly pain we all endure. Then we that are found worthy are sent into Elysium, and the plains of the blessed. And when, after many days, the soul is wholly pure, it is called to the river of forgetfulness, that it may drink thereof, and so return to the world that is above. Then he led Ineos and the Sibyl to a hill whence they could see the whole company, and regard their faces as they came. And he said, Come, and I will show thee them that shall come after thee. That youth who leans upon a pointless spear, is Silveus, thy youngest child, whom Lavinia shall bear to thee in thy old age. He shall reign in Alba, and shall be the father of kings. And many other kings are there, who shall build cities great and famous. Lo, there is Romulus, whom Ilia shall bear to Mars. He shall build Rome, whose empire shall reach to the ends of the earth, and its glory to the heaven.  That is he who shall first give laws to Rome. And next to him is Tullus, the warrior. And there are the Tarquins, and Brutus, who shall set the people free, I and shall slay his own sons, when they would be false to their country. See also the Dekai, and Troquatus, with the cruel axe, and Camelus winning back the standards of Rome. There standeth one who would subdue Corinth, and there another who shall avenge the blood of Troy upon the race of Achilles. There too thou mayst see the Scipios, thunderbolts of war, whom the land of Africa shall fear. And there Regulus, busy in the furrows, and there the Fabii, chiefly him greatest of the name, who shall save thy country by wise delay.  Others with softer touch shall carve the face of man in marble or mould the bronze. Some, more skillfully, shall plead or map the skies, or tell the rising of the stars. To his time, man of Rome, to subdue the world. This is thy work, to set the rule of peace over the vanquished, to spare the humble, and to subdue the proud. Then he speak again. Regard him who is the first of all the company of conquerors. Eos Marcellus, he shall save the state in the day of trouble, and put to flight Carthaginian and Gaul. Then said Ineos, for he chanced to see by his side a youth clad in shining armour, and very fair to look upon, but sad, and with downcast eyes. Tell me, Father, who is this? How noble is he! What a company is about him! But there is a shadow of darkness round his head. And Anchises made answer. O my son, seek not to know the greatest sorrow that shall befall thy children after thee. This youth, the fates shall only show for a brief space to man. Rome would seem too mighty to the gods, should he but live. What mourning shall there be for him? What a funeral shall thou see, O river of Tiber, as thou flowest by the new-made tomb. No youth of the race of Troy shall promise so much as he. Alas, for his righteousness and truth and valour unsurpassed.  Give handfuls of lilies. I will scatter the bright flowers and pay the idle honours to my grandson's shade. Thus did Anchises show his son things to be, and kindled his soul with desire of glory. Also he showed him what wars he must wage, and how he should endure, or, if it might be, avoid the evils to come. There are two gates of sleep, of horn the one, by which true dreams go forth, of ivory the other, by which the falls. Then did Anchises send forth his son and the sable by the ivory gate, and Anas returned to the ships, and making sail came to the Cape, which was afterwards called Cayeta. End of section 43. Section 44 of the junior classics, volume 3, Tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. The Oracle foretells The Coming of Ineos, by H. L. Havel. While Ineos is on his way from Cumae to the mouth of Tiber, we will take a brief glance at the state of things in Latium, and see what sort of reception is awaiting him there. The king of Latium at this time was Latinus, who drew his descent from Saturn, an ancient pastoral deity of Italy. His daughter and only child, Lavinia, was betrothed to Turnus, and the match was strongly favoured by Amata, queen and wife of Latinus, whose heart had been won by the princely form and high ancestry of the youthful suitor. But just before the arrival of the Trojans, strange portents had occurred, which seemed to forbid the union of Lavinia and Turnus. In the central courtyard of the royal palace, there was an ancient laurel tree, found growing on the spot by Latinus when he began to build the city, which was named, from this circumstance, Lorentum. One morning the whole courtyard was besieged by a buzzing swarm of bees, which settled on the laurel, and hung in a dense cluster from its topmost bow. A stranger is coming, declared the seers. From the same quarter went's flew the bees, and he shall hold sway in this royal citadel. Another time, when Lavinia was taking part in the sacrifice which was offered at her betrothal, the flame caught her long hair, and in a moment she was wrapped from head to foot in a mysterious fire, which smoked and blazed and roared, but did her no harm. Oh, king, proclaimed the seer again, thy daughter is destined to hire a noun, but she shall bring on this people a wide-wasting war. Alarmed by these portents, Latinus went to consult the oracle of Faunus, his father, in the sacred grotto near the burning spring of Albania, which is the Delphi of Latium. Wrapped in the skins of sheep, which had been offered in sacrifice, for so the custom was, he lay all night at the mouth of the cavern. In the dead, vast and middle of the night, he heard a voice which said, Seek not in Latium a bridegroom for thy daughter. From a distant land there cometh one who shall mingle his blood with thine, and out of that union a race shall arise, before which all peoples of the earth shall bow the knee. This answer of the oracle was soon noised abroad and caused throughout Latium a fever of expectation at the moment when the ships of Ineus were first sighted off the coast. End of section 44. Section 45 of the junior classics, volume 3, Tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. Ineus and his companions eat their tables by H. L. Havel. The distant crests of the Apennines are tipped with crimson light. Every wind is hushed to rest, and land and sea lie sleeping in the hallowed stillness of the dawn. But hark, the silence is broken by the measured beat of a thousand oars, and into the mouth of Tybur sweeps the Trojan fleet. As if they had been waiting for that signal, a multitude of birds at the same moment burst into song, and all the woods by the riverside ring with melody. Ineus is the first to leap ashore, and soon all his fleet lies moored on the yellow sand. Under the spreading boughs of an ancient oak sat Ineus with the young Aeolus and those next to him in rank. Before them was spread a rustic feast of fruits, plucked from the neighbouring trees, and flat cakes, hastily prepared with meal and eggs and cheese, served them for dishes. When all their fruit was consumed, they finished their meal by devouring the flat squares of cake. Behold, we are eating our tables, cried Aeolus, laughing, and before he could add another word, Ineus laid a warning finger on his lips. No more, my child, he said. Thy words have a deeper meaning than thou demist. Long ago I heard an oracle from my father, foretelling that in the place where hunger compelled us to devour our tables, we should find a settled home and an abiding city. Here, then, our wanderings are at an end. And thus the prophecy of Caleno, uttered in malice, was brought to a happy fulfilment, and turned into a matter of light-gesting by an innocent child. On the day following, Ineus chose out a hundred men from all his company and sent them as envoys to the court of Latinus. Crowned with olive wreaths to show that they came in peace, they set forth on their mission and soon reached the open plain which lies before the gates of Larentum, where the youth of Latium were assembled for the practice of archery, horsemanship and other war-like exercises. Here they halted and set forward a messenger to announce their coming to the king. Permission being granted, they entered the gates under an escort and were conducted to the royal palace, which stood on a hill commanding the city and surrounded by a hallowed grove. Here they were first ushered into an antechamber filled with war-like trophies, chariots, and the beaked prowls of ships, battle axes, helmets, shields and spears. While round the walls were arranged statues of the ancient kings and warriors of Latium. From here, with all due ceremony, they were brought into the presence of the king. Benign was the face of the venerable Latinus and gracious were his words as he gave welcome to his guests. Children of Dardanus, he said, I know both your name and your fame, and ye come not hither as strangers. Whether ye come to this land of set purpose or driven by adverse winds, I regard you as friends, and in some ways as kinsmen. Was not Dardanus your ancestor, whose seat is now in heaven, a son of Italy? Ileoneus, the leader of the assembly, replied, illustrious son of Saturn, it was no accident of wind or weather which brought us to thy shores, thou knowest, as who doth not, dwell he never so remote from the paths of men, thou knowest the tempest which gathered at Mycenae and swept over the plains of Asia. Saved from that deluge and the havoc of our homes, we have passed the wide waste of waters following the voice of Apollo which called us to the Tuscan Tiber and the cradle of our race. We ask but a little gift, a small plot of earth for our country's gods to dwell in, and the common boon of water and air, and despise us not, nor think that we come as beggars and outcasts. Many are the nations who would have given us an honourable portion in their land, and received us as friends and allies, but fate suffered it not. Receive us then, and take these gifts from the hands of Aeneas, a hand never stained by treachery or cowardice. This is the golden goblet from which his sire and chaisis was want to pour the drink offering. Here is the royal robe and the scepter and tiara of Priam, and these vestments were wrought by the hands of noble Trojan dames. For a while, Latinus sat silent, pondering on the strange event, which seemed to fulfil the oracle of ancient faunus. This, thought he, is the foreign bridegroom of which the oracle spoke. Presently he raised his head and answered with a look of glad assurance, Trojan, thou hast thy wish, and may the gods speed our designs. I have a daughter, who by many sure tokens is destined to wed a stranger from a distant country, and unless my mind deceives me, your king Aeneas is called by fate to be her husband. Let him seek my presence with all speed, and doubt not of his welcome. Such was the reply of Latinus, and his actions were as kind as his words. Finding that Latinus was not to be shaken in his resolve, Amata gave the reins to her frenzy, and going forth into the city, sped from house to house, and poured her tale of wrong into the ears of all whom she met. Thus what had begun as a petty brawl, soon grew into a regular battle, in which the whole Trojan force found itself confronted by a strong master from the field of Latium. Aeneas received an embassy sent by Latinus to ask a truce for the burial of the slain. The envoys were courteously received, and after granting their request, Aeneas addressed them in terms of grave and dignified remonstrance. Why, he asked, has your king broken faith with me thus, and brought on Trojans and Latins this lamentable war? If Ternus complains that I am robbing him of his promised bride, let him make good his right in single combat, and not sacrifice the lives of thousands in a private quarrel. Tell him that I am ready to meet him when and where he will. End of section 45. Section 46 of the junior classics, Volume 3, Tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. The fight between Aeneas and Ternus, by H. L. Havel. Ternus had declared himself ready to decide the struggle in single combat with Aeneas. The time had now come for him to redeem his pledge. The Latins were beaten and discouraged, and all eyes were fixed upon him as the author and cause of the war. The fiery spirit of the young Retullian rose under this trial. He sought an interview with Latinus, and Bantum sent a herald to demand a truce and arrange the preliminaries of his duel with Aeneas. Latinus strove in vain to deter him from his purpose. In vain, Amata besought him with tears and prayers, not to drive matters to so desperate an issue. Ternus fixed his eyes on the lovely form and blushing features of Lavinia, who was standing a silent witness of the scene, and carried away by passion, he answered in excited tones, Urge me no further, dear lady, the die is cast. I have given my word and cannot draw back now. Then he called an officer and sent him with a flag of truce to the Trojan camp, appointing the next day for the encounter, which was to settle his claim to the hand of Lavinia and the scepter of Latium. The fatal day has come, and with the first gleam of light, Ternus leaps from his couch and prepares himself for battle. Every tone and gesture of the turbulent Retullian betray wild exultation of spirits.  Come, Goodspear, that has never failed me yet. Today thou shalt drink deep of a coward's blood, and the curl, darling of Venus, shall stain his scented locks in the dust of Latium. On the other side, Ines armed himself with calm confidence, secure in the sense of his lofty mission. The lists were measured, and altars of turf erected for the customary sacrifice. On either side of the field, the Trojans and Latins were drawn up in battle array, and the walls of Larentum were thronged with women and old men, the passive spectators of the approaching combat. A loud shout from the ranks of the Latins announces that the king is at hand, and soon Latinus appears in the centre of the arena, seated in a four-horsed car, and wearing his royal crown. Turnus follows close behind, sheathed in complete armour, and drawn by two snow-white steeds. Ines stands ready to receive them. The victims are brought, the salted meal is sprinkled, and the sacred forelock cut off from the forehead of the victims. Then Ines lifts up his hands, and makes a solemn appeal to Jupiter and Juno and Mars, and all the powers of earth and sky and sea. Witness all ye eternal gods, and hear my vow. If Turnus gains the mastery today, the Trojans shall go back to Evander's city, and never bear arms against this realm again. But if, as I hope and believe, heaven favours my sword, I claim not the sovereignty of Latium, nor seek ought for myself and my people, but the right to dwell here in peace as a friend and ally of the old inhabitants. The oath was solemnly repeated by Latinus, and ratified by sacrifice and prayer. But the combat was not to proceed without interruption. On a lofty hill, known in after-days as the Alban Mount, sat Juno watching the scene with jealous eyes.  And resolved to make one more effort on his behalf, she went in search of Jeterna, a sister of Turnus, who had been raised to divine honours by the special favour of Jove, and made a presiding deity over the fountains and rivers of Latium. Up, Jeterna, said the goddess, when she had found her sitting pensively by a dear fountain-head, go help thy brother in his dire need, I can do no more. Starting up at the summons, Jeterna made haste to obey, and a moment after she was standing invisible among the Ratulians who fought under Turnus. By their looks and words, she soon perceived that they were ripe for mischief, and putting on the likeness of Camus, a brave warrior and friend of Turnus, she gave voice to the general sentiment thus. I do not ashamed, Ratulians, that one man should give his life for you all. Shall we, who outnumber the enemy by two to one, sit idly by and see our leader slain, and a chain forged for our own necks? The words were caught up, and passed from rank to rank. Threatening murmurs arose among the Ratulians, and even the Latins began to regret that they had left their fate to be decided by the sword of Turnus. In the midst of this excitement, a flight of wild swans was seen passing overhead, pursued by an eagle who swooped suddenly on one of the finest of the birds, and began to bear him off in his talons. Hereupon the whole troop rallied to the rescue of their comrade, and so belaboured, and buffeted the robber with their powerful wings, that he was compelled to drop his prey and seek safety in flight. Hear me, cried Tulumneus, a famous augur, while I read you the omen. The eagle is Ineos, and the swans who beat him off are ourselves, the free sons of Italy, who will forthwith drive this marauder across the sea again. Suiting the action to the word, he ran forward and flung his spear. It flew hissing across the open space, which separated the two armies, and struck a tall Arcadian, one of nine brothers, in the side. He fell mortally wounded, and his brethren, with a cry of rage and grief, seized their weapons and rushed to avenge him. A general advance now began on both sides, thick and fast flew the javelins, and Latinus left the field in haste to escape from that iron shower. Ineos made desperate efforts to check the furious passions which were raging around him. Bareheaded and unarmed, he flung himself into the thick of the combatants, crying, Are you mad, good people?  His life is now forfeited to me. While thus he pleaded and protested, there came an arrow shot by an unknown hand, and struck him in the hip. Grievously hurt, Ineos was compelled to seek shelter behind a friendly shield, and retired to the rear, leaving the field open to turn us. Great was the joy of the fierce rotulion when he saw his enemy disabled, and the bravest of the Trojan leaders withdrawn from the conflict, in anxious attendance on their injured chief. Mounting his car, he lashed his coarsers to a gallop, and scoured the plain, ravaging the wrecks of the Trojans, and trampling them down by scores. Meanwhile, Ineos had retreated to the camp, and was standing, surrounded by his friends, with the arrow still planted deep in his flesh. The most skillful leech in the Trojan army was a certain Ayapus, whom Apollo had loved in his youth, and offered to endow with his own gifts as archer, harper, and seer. But he, that he might prolong the life of his father, who was sick unto death, chose rather to learn the virtues of healing herbs, and all the physicians' lore. He now arrived, in answer to a hasty summons, and employed all his skill to draw the barbed arrow from the wind. But all his efforts were in vain. The arrow clung fast, and refused to stir. Louder and louder grew the roar of battle. Nearer and nearer came the dense columns of the enemy, and their javelins began to fall thick in the very centre of the camp.  Unseen of any, Venus drew near, and dropped the magic herb into the vessel containing the water with which Ayapus was bathing the wound. The leech, all unknowing, continued his ministrations, and instantly, at the first touch of that powerful remedy, all pain departed. The flow of blood was staunched, and the arrow dropped harmless to the ground. This is no work of my skill, said Ayapus, in a voice full of awe. The hand of a god has been here. Completely healed, with all his pristine vigor restored, Ines resumed his armour, and kissing Eolus, who was standing near, he seized his spear, and charged into the thickest of the fight, followed close by the other Trojan chiefs. Juturnus saw him coming, and trembling for her brother's life, she approached the car of Turnus, and flinging Mesticus, his charioteer in the dust, herself put on his likeness, and seized the reins. Driven now by no mortal hand, the car flew hither and thither with miraculous speed, wheeling and darting in giddy circles, like a swallow pursuing her tiny prey. Ines panted in pursuit, scorning every other foe, with eye and foot and hand all directed against Turnus, and Turnus alone. Now he seemed to be gaining, and pressed forward, calling on his enemy to stand, and the next moment his prey was snatched from his grasp, like a hare doubling to avoid the fangs of a hound. Mesticus, seeing him absorbed in the chase, and thinking to catch him unawares, flung a javelin and struck off the plumes from his helmet. Then at last Ines gave reins to his anger, and abandoning the pursuit of Turnus, fell upon the foes who were nearest, and strode the field with indiscriminate carnage. Thus fate for the moment kept the two rivals apart, and they fought in different parts of the field, like devastating fires, which fall upon a forest from opposite quarters, wasting the timber, till with a roar they meet. At length Ines paused from the work of destruction, and glancing backward at the city, saw the walls feebly manned, and the path to the gates lying open. Such an opportunity was not to be neglected. Hasteily summoning those next to himself in command, he pointed to the walls, and said, There is the point at which we must strike, and that speedily, if the Latins will not confess themselves beaten, this day I will raise their city to the ground, gather your men, and prepare to carry the place by storm. Wild was the dismay among the inhabitants of Larentum, when they saw the Trojans and Tuscans advancing in full force, with scaling ladders, battering rams, and torches, to the assault. Some rushed to the battlements, determined to resist to the last, others cried that the gates must be opened to the enemy, and a third party broke into the palace, and dragged the unhappy Latinus into the streets, vowing that they would hand him over to the vengeance of Ines. All was panic, confusion, and uproar, as in a nest of wild bees, smoked to death by a shepherd who seeks to rifle their store. In the midst of this disorder, an event occurred which gave the last blow to those who still favoured the cause of Turnus. When the queen saw the approaching attack on the city, she at once concluded that Turnus had fallen, and full of remorse for the part which she had played, she went and hanged herself, from a high beam in her chamber. End of section 46. Section 47 of the junior classics, volume 3, Tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. The Death of Turnus, by H. L. Havel. Turnus, whose car was still driven by the disguised Juturna, had been carried in pursuit of some straggling Trojans to the farthest verge of the plain. Suddenly his ears were caught by a wild, tumultuous cry from the distant city, and laying his hand on the reins, he brought the chariot to a stand. Why halt us, thou? asked the pretended Metiscus. Leave thy comrades to defend the walls, and continue the work of slaughter here, where there is none to oppose thee. Turnus answered, Sister, I knew thee from the first, and recognise thy hand in all the wild havoc of this day. But vain are all I labours, heaven is against me, and I must bow to the will of fate. I have seen all the noblest of my comrades slain before my eyes.  Shall I play coward, and make my name a byword for Drances and his crew? No, if heaven is against me, be ye at least with me, ye noble spirits of the dead, prepare to receive me, a stainless soul worthy to be numbered among the mightiest of my line. Scarcely had he spoken, when a Rutulian horseman, wounded in the face by an arrow, came galloping towards him, shouting, Turnus, what do is thou here? Thou art our last hope and refuge. The city is beset, Amata has died by her own hand. But few of thy friends remain to keep up a desperate defence. Come quickly, for dire is the need. As if to give point to his words, at this very moment the flames were seen leaping from a huge wooden tower built on a projection of the walls. For a while, Turnus stood as if stupified, overcome by the conflicting passions which surged within him. Then, collecting himself with a strong effort, he said, "'Tis enough, my fate calls me and I obey. Let me strike one good blow first, and then let death take his due.' Thereupon, he sprang from the chariot and, running at full speed, broke his way through the fighting lines, like a great boulder sapped in its foundations by the winter rains, and toppled from a mountain's crest. "'Make way!' he cried. "'Drop your weapons, ye Retulians and Latins. This is my quarrel, not yours, and I am come to pay the price.' Both sides fell back, and left an open space for the final encounter between the two great champions. At last murmured Ineus, as he came towering on, and took his stand.  First they flung their spears, and, these not taking effect, they drew their swords, and engaged hand to hand. Loud clashed the steel, and a stream of lightning seemed to play about their heads, so fast and furious were the strokes. Like two bulls, fighting for the sovereignty of the herd, while the kind stand lowing near. So strove the Italian and the Trojan for the mastery, foot to foot, and shield to shield. At length Ternus lifted high his sword, and coming down with the whole weight of his body, discharged a tremendous blow at the crest of Ineus. The weapon belonged to Metiscus, his charioteer, and he had snatched it up in mistake for his own good blade, which had been tempered by the hand of Vulcan himself, and now the faithless sword proved his mortal temper, and was shivered to the hilt, like glass. With a bitter curse, the Ritullian turned his back and fled, and Ineus followed close, though still somewhat disabled by his recent wound. Hither and thither they sped, pursuer and pursued, as a keen hound chases the flying deer, brought to bay by a high rocky mountainside, the stag wheels and doubles, and the hound's jaws close with a snap, as his quarry eludes him again. Ternus shouted to his comrades, imploring them to bring his sword, but Ineus warmed them off with threatening gestures, and so the race went on, which was run for no common stake, but for the very lifeblood of Ternus. When Ineus flung his spear at the beginning of the duel, the weapon had sunk deep into the stump of an olive tree. The tree itself, which was sacred to Faunus, had been felled by the Trojans and rolled out of the way on the morning before the battle. Catching sight of the spear as he ran past in pursuit of Ternus, Ineus paused and strove to tear it out, and while terror, Ternus watched his efforts and cried, Faunus, God of my fathers, hold the weapon fast and preserve thy worshipper. Faunus heard his prayer and kept the iron point close pinned in the knotted roots of his sacred tree, and while Ineus was still tugging and straining at the shaft, Jutarna, again disguised as Matiscus, ran up to Ternus and gave him back his sword. Thereupon Venus, angered by the presumption of the nymph, drew near in her turn, wrenched out the lance and handed it to her son. Their weapons thus restored, the champions stood face to face once more, prepared to renew the battle. But the end was now at hand. Jove sat watching the rival warriors, and weary that the inevitable issue should be so long delayed, he thus addressed his haughty consort, Jutarna, how long must I suffer thee to thwart my high purpose? Thou knowest that it is in vain. Surely thy hate should now be satisfied. After so many years in which thy malice has ranged unchecked and strewn the path of Ineus with death and disaster, the word must now be spoken, cease. I forbid thee to go further. Jutarna answered humbly, Be it so, I also am weary of the fray, and will resist no more. One thing only I ask, which fate forbids thee not to grant. When the two peoples have united into one, let the language and the dress and the customs of Italy survive, and let the whole nation be called the Latins. Troy has perished. Let her name perish also. Jove smiled indulgently, as he replied. True daughter of Saturn, still unappeasable in thine eye, it shall be as thou sayest. Latins they shall be called, and they shall be thy people, mighty in word and deed, and laud and honour thy name forever. The old quarrel, thus happily concluded, Jove prepared to end the conflict between Ineus and Ternus. Close by his throne, two hideous warders lie couched day and night, sisters of the Furies, and armed with the same attributes of terror, with serpent tresses and windy wings. One of these, the monarch of heaven sent to warn Jaturna that she must leave her brother's side. Like a poisoned arrow shot from a Parthian's bowl, the daughter of night sped down to earth, and as she came in sight of the Trojan and Latin armies, she took the shape of that ill-oamened bird, who sits among tombs and ruined towers, and sends her moaning cry through the darkness. In such shape, the fiend dashed herself against the face of Ternus, and buffeted his shield with her wings. Ternus was paralysed with horror, his hair bristled, and the passage of his voice was choked. But when Jaturna heard the beating of those fatal pinions, she tore her hair and beat her breast, knowing that her brother's hour was come. Ternus, I can do no more, she cried, would that I might die with thee, but alas, Jove has made me immortal, and doomed me to eternal sorrow. Then veiling her face in her azure mantle, the nymph left the battlefield, and sat rocking herself in anguish by the riverside. Ines came on, brandishing his massy spear, and crying, Now at last thou art delivered into my hands, unless thou canst fly up to heaven, or dig thee a burrow in the earth. Thy words have no terrors for me, replied Ternus, but much I fear that heaven is against me. And without more words, he looked round him and saw a huge ancient stone set up long ago as a boundary mark. Stooping, he caught up the ponderous mass, which scarce twelve men could lift, as men are in our times. With one hand he heaved it above his head, and poised, and flung it, running at full speed. It was his last effort, and he felt, as he made it, that his powers were failing. The stone fell short, and Ternus stood gazing, struck with a strange impotence, like one in a trance. The whole scene swam before his eyes, woods, hills, and city walls, and the faces of his friends, like visions in a fevered dream. While thus he faltered, Ineus poised his lance, took steady aim, and flung. Like some vast missile, hurled by a siege engine, the giant spear rushed to its mark, pierced through the lower edge of the sevenfold shield, and rending the border of the courtlet with a grating sound, transfixed the middle of his thigh. A deep groan went up from the ranks of the Rutulians, when they saw their young hero lying helpless and bleeding on the sand. With hands outstretched, and eyes imploring mercy, Ternus uttered this humble prayer. Thou hast conquered, the vineyard is line, now pity my father's grey hairs, and give him back his son, or if thou must have my life, at least restore my body to him for burial. Ineus paused, lowering his sword, and rolling his eyes, in doubt whether to strike or spare. And pity began to prevail more and more in his heart, when his gaze fastened on the fatal belt, which Ternus had won from the youthful palace, and was wearing on his shoulder. Then grief and anger blazed up in his soul, and he cried in a terrible voice, Rich, dost thou ask for mercy with that emblem of sorrow on thy breast? Palace, palace claims thee as his victim, and cries aloud for thy guilty blood. The avenging steel was lifted, and flashed, and fell, and that mighty frame lay shuddering in death, while his soul, indignant, fled moaning to the shades. End of section 47. Section 48 of the junior classics, Volume 3, Tales from Greece and Rome, edited by William Patton, 1868 to 1936. This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gillian Henry. Stories from Roman history, from Livy. The story of Romulus and of Numa, by Alfred J. Church. In the years of Troy, coming to the land of Italy, took to wife Lavinia, daughter of King Latinus, and built him a city, which he called Lavinium, after the name of his wife. And after 30 years, his son Ascanius went forth from Lavinia, with much people, and built him a new city, which he called Alba. In this city reigned kings of the house and lineage of Ineus, for 12 generations. Of these kings, the 11th in descent was one Procass, who having two sons, Numitor and Amulius, left his kingdom, according to the custom, to Numitor the elder. But Amulius graved out his brother, and reigned in his stead. Nor was he content with this wickedness, but slew all the male children of his brother. And the daughter of his brother, that was named Ria Sylvia, he chose to be a priestess of Vesta, making as though he would do the maiden honour. But his thought was that the name of his brother should perish, for they that serve Vesta are vowed to perpetual virginity. But it came to pass that Ria bear twin sons, whose father it was said was the god Mars. Very wroth was Amulius when he heard this thing. Ria he made fast in prison, and the children he gave to certain of his servants, that they should cast them into the river. Now it chanced that at this season, Tiber had overflowed his banks. Neither could the servants come near to the stream of the river. Nevertheless, they did not doubt that the children would perish, for all that the overflowing of the water was neither deep nor of a swift current. Thinking then that they had duly performed the commandment of the king, they set down the babes in the flood and departed. But after a while the flood abated, and left the basket wherein the children had been laid, on dry ground. And a she-wolf coming down from the hill to drink at the river, for the country in those days was desert and abounding in wild beasts, heard the cry of the children and ran to them. Nor did she devour them, but gave them suck. Nay, so gentle was she, that Faustolus, the king's shepherd, chancing to go by, saw that she licked them with her tongue. This Faustolus took the children and gave them to his wife to Ria, and these, when they were of age to go by themselves, were not willing to abide with the flocks and herds, but were hunters wandering through the forests that were in those parts. And afterward, being now come to full strength, they were not content to slay wild beasts only, but would assail troops of robbers, as these were returning, laden with their booty, and would divide the spoils among the shepherds. Now there was held in those days, on the hill that is now called the Palatine, a yearly festival to the god Pan. This festival, King Evander first ordained, having come from Arcadia, in which land, being a land of shepherds, Pan, that is the god of shepherds, is greatly honoured. And when the young men and their company, for they had gathered a great company of shepherds about them, and led them in all matters, both of business and of sport, were busy with the festival, there came upon them certain robbers that had made an ambush in the place, being very wroth by reason of the booty which they had lost. These laid hands on Remus, but Romulus they could not take, so fiercely did he fight with them. Remus therefore, they delivered up to King Amulius, accusing him of many things, and chiefly of this, that he and his companions had invaded the land of Numitor, dealing with them in the fashion of an enemy, and carrying off much spoil. To Numitor therefore, did the king deliver Remus, that he might put him to death. Now Faustulus had believed from the beginning, that the children were off the royal house, for he knew that the babes had been cast into the river by the king's command, and the time also of his finding them agreed there too. Nevertheless, he had not judged it expedient to open the matter before due time, but waited till occasion or necessity should arise. But now there being such necessity, he opened the matter to Romulus. Numitor also, when he had the young man Remus in his custody, knowing that he and his brother were twins, and that the time agreed, and seeing that they were of a high spirit, be thought him of his grandsons. And indeed, having asked many questions of Remus, was come nigh to knowing of what race he was. And now also Romulus was ready to help his brother. To come openly with his whole company, he dared not, for he was not a match for the power of King Amulius. But he bad sundry shepherds make their way to the palace, each as best he could, appointing to them a time at which they should meet. And now came Remus also, with a troupe of youths, gathered together from the household of Numitor. Then did Romulus and Remus slay King Amulius. In the meanwhile, Numitor gathered the youth of Alba to the citadel, crying out that they must make the place safe, for that the enemy was upon them. But when he perceived that the young men had done the deed, forthwith he called an assembly of the citizens, and set forth to them the wickedness which his brother had wrought against him, and how his grandsons had been born and bred, and made known to him, and then in order, how the tyrant had been slain. Himself having counseled the deed. When he had so spoken, the young men came with their company into the midst of the assembly, and saluted him as King, to which then the whole multitude agreeing with one consent, Numitor was established upon the throne. After this, Romulus and his brother conceived this purpose, that leaving their grandfather to be King at Alba, they should build for themselves a new city, in the place where, having been at the first left to die, they had been brought up by Fostilus the shepherd, and to this purpose many agreed both of the men of Alba and of the Latins, and also of the shepherds that had followed them from the first, holding it for certain all of them, that Alba and Lavinium would be of small account, in comparison of this new city, which they should build together. But while the brothers were busy with these things, they sprang up afresh the same evil thing which had before wrought such trouble in their house, even the lust of power. For though the beginnings of the strife between them were peaceful, yet did it end in great wickedness. The matter fell out in this wise. Seeing that the brothers were twins, and that neither could claim to have the preference to the other in respect of his age, it was agreed between them that the gods, that were the guardians of that country, should make known by means of augury, which of the two they chose to give his name to the new city. Then Romulus stood on the Palatine hill, and when there had been marked out for him a certain region of the sky, watched therein for a sign, and Remus watched in like manner, standing on the Aventine, and to Remus first came a sign, six vultures. But so soon as the sign had been proclaimed, there came another to Romulus, even 12 vultures. Then they that favoured Remus clamoured that the gods had chosen him for king, because he had first seen the birds, and they that favoured Romulus answered that he was to be preferred, because he had seen more in number. This dispute waxed so hot that they fell to fighting, and in the fight it chanced that Remus was slain. But some say that when Romulus had marked out the borders of the town which he would build, and had caused them to build a wall round it, Remus leapt over the wall, scorning it because it was mean and low, and that Romulus slew him, crying out, Thus shall every man perish, that shall dare to leap over my walls. Only others will have it that though he perished for this cause, Romulus slew him not, but a certain seller. This much is certain that Romulus gained the whole kingdom for himself, and called the city after his own name. After this, the people bethought themselves how they should get for themselves wives, for there were no women in the place. Wherefore, Romulus sent ambassadors to the nations round about, praying that they should give their daughters to his people for wives. Cities, he said, have humble beginnings even as all other things, nevertheless they that have the gods and their own valour to help become great. Now that the gods are with us as ye know, be assured also that valour shall not be wanting. But the nations round about would not hearken to him, thinking sporn of his gathering of robbers and slaves and runaways, so that they said, why do ye not open a sanctuary for women also, that so ye may find fit wives for your people? Also they feared for themselves and their children what this new city might grow to. Now when the ambassadors brought back this answer, the Romans were greatly wroth, and would take by force that which their neighbours would not give of their free will. And to the end that they might do this more easily, King Romulus appointed certain days whereon he and his people would hold a festival with games to Neptune. And to this festival he called all them that dwelt in the cities round about. But when many were gathered together, for they were feigned to see what this new city might be, and were now wholly bent on the spectacle of the games, the young men of the Romans ran in upon them, and carried off all such as were unwedded among the women. To these King Romulus speak kindly, saying, the fault is not with us, but with your fathers who dealt proudly with us, and would not give you to us in marriage. But now ye shall be held in all honour as our wives, and shall have your portion of all that we possess. Put away there for your anger, for ye shall find us so much the better husbands than other men, as we must be to you, not for husbands only, but parents also, and native country. After this, King Tatius and the Sabines came up against Rome with a great army, and first of all they gained the citadel by treachery in this manner. One Tarpeas was governor of the citadel, whose daughter Tarpea by name, going forth from the walls to fetch water for a sacrifice, took money from the king that she should receive certain of the soldiers within the citadel. But when they had been so received, the men cast their shields upon her, slaying her with the weight of them. This they did, either that they might be thought to have taken the place by force, or that they judged it to be well that no faith should be kept with traitors. Some also tell this tale that the Sabines wore great bracelets of gold on their left arms, and on their left hands fair rings with precious stones therein, and that when the maiden covenanted with them, that she should have for a reward that which they carried in their left hands, they cast their shields upon her, and others say that she asked for their shields, having the purpose to betray them, and for this cause was slain. Thus the Sabines had possession of the citadel, and the next day King Romulus set the battle in array on the plain that lay between the hill of the capital and the hill of the Palatine. And first the Romans were very eager to recover the citadel, a certain hostilius being their leader. But when this man fighting in the forefront of the battle was slain, the Romans turned their backs and fled before the Sabines, even unto the gate of the Palatine. Then King Romulus, for he himself had been carried away by the crowd of them that fled, held up his sword and his spear to the heavens, and cried aloud, Oh Jupiter, here in the Palatine didst thou first, by the tokens which thou sentest me, lay the foundations of my city, and lo the Sabines have taken the citadel by wicked craft, and have crossed the valley, and are come up even hither. But if thou sufferest them so far, do thou at the least defend this place against them, and stay this shameful flight of my people. So will I build a temple for thee in this place, even a temple of Jupiter the Stair, that may be a memorial to after generations of how thou didst this day save the city. And when he had so spoken, even as though he knew that the prayer had been heard, he cried, Ye men of Rome, Jupiter bids you stand fast in this place, and renew the battle. And when the men of Rome heard these words, it was as if a voice from heaven had spoken to them, and they stood fast, and the king himself went forward and stood among the foremost. Now the leader of the Sabines was one, Cirtius. This man, as he draped the Romans before him, cried out to his comrades, See, we have conquered these men, false hosts, and feeble foes that they are. Surely now they know that it is one thing to carry off maidens, and another to fight with men. But whilst he boasted himself thus, King Romulus and a company of the youth rushed upon him. Now, Cirtius was fighting on horseback, and being thus assailed, he fled, plunging into a certain pool which lay between the Palatine hill and the capital. Thus did he barely escape with his life, and the lake was called thereafter, Cirtius's pool. And now the Sabines began to give way to the Romans, when suddenly the women, for whose sake they fought, having their hair loosened and their garments rent, ran in between them that fought, crying out, Sheci, not each other's blood, ye that are fathers-in-law and sons-in-law to each other. But if you break this bond that is between you, slay us that are the cause of this trouble, and surely it were better for us to die than to live, if we be bereaved of our fathers and of our husbands. With these words they stirred the hearts both of the chiefs and of the people, so that there was suddenly made a great silence. And afterward the leaders came forth to make a covenant, and these indeed so ordered matters, that there was not peace only, but one state where there had been two. For the Sabines came to Rome and dwelt there, and King Romulus and King Tatius reigned together. Only after a while certain men of Lannuvium slew King Tatius as he was sacrificing to the gods at Lavinium, and thereafter Romulus only was king as before. When he had reigned thirty and seven years there befell the thing that shall now be told. On a certain day he called the people together on the field of Mars, and held a review of his army. But while he did this there arose suddenly a great storm with loud thunderings and very thick clouds, so that the king was hidden away from the eyes of all the people, nor indeed was he ever again seen upon the earth. And now it was needful that another king should be chosen. No man in those days was more renowned for his righteousness and piety than a certain Numa Pompilius that dwelt at Curis in the land of the Sabines. Now it seemed at first to the Senate that the Sabines would be too powerful in the state if the king should be chosen from among them. Nevertheless, because they could not agree upon any other man, at last with one consent they decreed that the kingdom should be offered to him. And Numa was willing to receive it if only the gods consented, and the consent of the gods was asked in this fashion. Being led by the auger into the citadel, he sat down on a stone with his face looking toward the south, and on his left hand sat the auger having his head covered and in his hand an auger's staff, which is a wand bent at the end and having no knot. Then looking toward the city and the country round about, he offered prayers to the gods and marked out the regions of the sky from the sun rising to the sun setting. The parts toward the south he called the right, and the parts toward the north he called the left. And he set a boundary before as far as his eye could reach. After this he took his staff in his left hand and laid his right on the head of Numa, praying in these words, Father Jupiter, if it be thy will that this Numa Pompilius, whose head I hold, should be king of Rome, show us I pray thee clear tokens of this thy will within the space which I have marked out. He then named the tokens which he desired, and when they had been shown, Numa was declared to be king. Many other things did King Numa set in order for his people. First, he divided the year into 12 months, each month being according to the course of the moon, and in every 24th year, another month, that the year might so agree with the course of the sun. Also he appointed certain lawful days for business and other days on which nothing might be done. He made priests also of whom the chief was a priest of Jupiter, to whom he gave splendid apparel and a chair of ivory. To other priests he made one of Mars and the other of Quirinus, that is to say of Romulus the god. And he chose virgins for the service of Vesta, who should keep alive the sacred fire, and 12 priests of Mars whom he called the Salli, to be keepers of the sacred shield. This shield men said fell down from heaven, and that it might be kept the more safely King Numa commanded that they should make 11 other shields like unto it. This shield and its fellows, the Salli, were to carry through the city, having on flowered tunics and breastplates of brass, and dancing and singing hymns. And many other things, as to the worship of the gods, and the interpreting of signs, and the dealing with marvels and portents, King Numa set in order. And that the people might regard these laws and customs with the more reverence, he gave out that he had not devised them of his own wit, but that he had learnt them from a certain goddess, whose name was Egeria, whom he was want to meet in a grove that was hard by the city. King Numa died having reigned 40 and 3 years, and the people chose in his room one Tullus Hostelius. End of section 48