"As we are to be fellow-travelers," said Mercury, "I will tell you at once that I am under orders from the Court of Olympus to take you to market and sell you for a slave. Do you submit? Or do you wish to learn from me the strength of heaven?" "I wish I could learn its justice," said Hercules. "But I suppose I am too stupid to understand. Everything is so dark and so strange. But what does it all matter, after all? I would as soon be a slave as anything else, now that I have lost Iole and killed my friend." "That is not the right mood," said Mercury. "It is better to rebel, as you did a minute ago, than to think that nothing matters, as you do now. However, let us go." Mercury was always the most delightful and amusing of companions; and he was very good-natured also, and did his best to make the journey cheerful. But, though he was the god of Eloquence, and of Business besides, he could not persuade anybody to become the purchaser of Hercules either by auction or by private bargain. Nobody wanted a slave who looked so certain to become his master's master. Besides, people had forgotten all his good deeds, and only remembered that he had been a dangerous madman. But in time they came to a country in Asia called Lydia, which was then ruled by a queen whose name was Omphale. And she, having seen Hercules, was brave enough to buy him. Of course Hercules expected that she would make him outdo what he had done for Eurystheus; and nothing would have pleased him better than to be sent on the most impossible errands, so that, in toil and danger, he might forget his murder of Iphitus and his love for Iole. Instead, however, of treating him like the most glorious hero of his time, and employing him on services of honor, she amused herself by giving him a spindle and distaff, and setting him to spin among her women, while she robed herself in his lion-skin and tried to swing his club in her delicate hands. And whenever he was clumsy with the distaff, which was very often, she would laugh at him, and strike him across the face with her slipper. For three long years Hercules sat and span among Omphale's handmaids; and then she, being tired of her amusement and of his submission, set him free, and gave him back his club and lion-skin. They had been three wasted, unwholesome years, and his strength had wasted with them; moreover, his fame was being forgotten, and nothing seemed left for him to do. How long it seemed since he had fought the Hydra and borne upon his shoulders the weight of the sky--it was as if he had become another and a feebler man. * * * * *