Part 10 (2/2)

”Friend,” said the King, ”have thou no fear of me; For though, indeed, I am right happy now, Yet well I know this may not always be, And I may chance some day to kneel full low, And to some happy man mine head to bow With prayers to do a greater thing than this, Dwell thou with us, and win again thy bliss.

”For in this city men in sport and play Forget the trouble that the G.o.ds have sent; Who therewithal send wine, and many a may As fair as she for whom the Trojan went, And many a dear delight besides have lent, Which, whoso is well loved of them shall keep Till in forgetful death he falls asleep.

”Therefore to-morrow shall those rites be done That kindred blood demands that thou hast shed, That if the mouth of thine own mother's son Did hap to curse thee ere he was quite dead, The curse may lie the lighter on thine head, Because the flower-crowned head of many a beast Has fallen voiceless in our glorious feast.”

Then did Adrastus rise and thank the King, And the next day when yet low was the sun, The sacrifice and every other thing That unto these dread rites belonged, was done; And there Adrastus dwelt, hated of none, And loved of many, and the King loved him, For brave and wise he was and strong of limb.

But chiefly amongst all did Atys love The luckless stranger, whose fair tales of war The Lydian's heart abundantly did move, And much they talked of wandering out afar Some day, to lands where many marvels are, With still the Phrygian through all things to be The leader unto all felicity.

Now at this time folk came unto the King Who on a forest's borders dwelling were, Wherein there roamed full many a dangerous thing, As wolf and wild bull, lion and brown bear; But chiefly in that forest was the lair Of a great boar that no man could withstand.

And many a woe he wrought upon the land.

Since long ago that men in Calydon Held chase, no beast like him had once been seen He ruined vineyards lying in the sun, After his harvesting the men must glean What he had left; right glad they had not been Among the tall stalks of the ripening wheat, The fell destroyer's fatal tusks to meet.

For often would the lonely man entrapped In vain from his dire fury strive to hide In some thick hedge, and other whiles it happed Some careless stranger by his place would ride, And the tusks smote his fallen horse's side, And what help then to such a wretch could come With sword he could not draw, and far from home?

Or else girls, sent their water-jars to fill, Would come back pale, too terrified to cry, Because they had but seen him from the hill; Or else again with side rent wretchedly, Some hapless damsel midst the brake would lie.

Shortly to say, there neither man nor maid Was safe afield whether they wrought or played.

Therefore were come these dwellers by the wood To pray the King brave men to them to send, That they might live; and if he deemed it good, That Atys with the other knights should wend, They thought their grief the easier should have end; For both by G.o.ds and men they knew him loved, And easily by hope of glory moved.

”O Sire,” they said, ”thou know'st how Hercules Was not content to wait till folk asked aid, But sought the pests among their guarded trees; Thou know'st what name the Theban Cadmus made, And how the bull of Marathon was laid Dead on the fallows of the Athenian land, And how folk wors.h.i.+pped Atalanta's hand.

”Fair would thy son's name look upon the roll Wherein such n.o.ble deeds as this are told; And great delight shall surely fill thy soul, Thinking upon his deeds when thou art old, And thy brave heart is waxen faint and cold: Dost thou not know, O King, how men will strive That they, when dead, still in their sons may live?”

He shuddered as they spoke, because he thought, Most certainly a winning tale is this To draw him from the net where he is caught, For hearts of men grow weary of all bliss; Nor is he one to be content with his, If he should hear the trumpet-blast of fame And far-off people calling on his name.

”Good friends,” he said, ”go, get ye back again.

And doubt not I will send you men to slay This pest ye fear: yet shall your prayer be vain If ye with any other speak to-day; And for my son, with me he needs must stay, For mighty cares oppress the Lydian land.

Fear not, for ye shall have a n.o.ble band.”

And with that promise must they be content, And so departed, having feasted well.

And yet some G.o.d or other ere they went, If they were silent, this their tale must tell To more than one man; therefore it befell, That at the last Prince Atys knew the thing, And came with angry eyes unto the King.

”Father,” he said, ”since when am I grown vile Since when am I grown helpless of my hands?

Or else what folk, with words enwrought with guile Thine ears have poisoned; that when far-off lands My fame might fill, by thy most strange commands I needs must stay within this slothful home, Whereto would G.o.d that I had never come?

”What! wilt thou take mine honour quite away Wouldst thou, that, as with her I just have wed I sit among thy folk at end of day, She should be ever turning round her head To watch some man for war apparelled Because he wears a sword that he may use, Which grace to me thou ever wilt refuse?

”Or dost thou think, when thou hast run thy race And thou art gone, and in thy stead I reign, The people will do honour to my place, Or that the lords leal men will still remain, If yet my father's sword be sharp in vain?

If on the wall his armour still hang up, While for a spear I hold a drinking-cup?”

”O Son!” quoth Croesus, ”well I know thee brave And worthy of high deeds of chivalry; Therefore the more thy dear life would I save, Which now is threatened by the G.o.ds on high; Three times one night I dreamed I saw thee die, Slain by some deadly iron-pointed thing, While weeping lords stood round thee in a ring.”

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