But the other kings applauded, and the trumpet was sounded, and the battle was joined. And that day the forces of Philistia were everywhere triumphant. But they report a queer thing happened: and it was that when the Philistines shouted in their triumph, Achilles and all they who served him rose from the ground like gleaming clouds and passed above the heads of the Philistines, deriding them. Thus was Pseudopolis left empty, so that the Philistines entered thereinto without any opposition. They defiled this city of blasphemous colors, then burned it as a sacrifice to their god Vel-Tyno, because the color of ashes is gray. Then the Philistines erected lithoi (which were not unlike may-poles), and began to celebrate their religious rites. * * * * * So it was reported: but Jurgen witnessed none of these events. "Let them fight it out," said Jurgen: "it is not my affair. I agree with Silenus: dullness will conquer dullness, and it will not matter. But do you, woman dear, take shelter with your kindred in the unconquerable Woods, for there is no telling what damage the Philistines may do hereabouts." "Will you go with me, Jurgen?" "My dear, you know very well that it is impossible for me ever again to go into the Woods, after the trick I played upon Phobetor." "And if only you had kept your head about that bean-pole of a Helen, in her yellow wig--for I have not a doubt that every strand of it is false, and at all events this is not a time to be arguing about it, Jurgen,--why, then you would never have meddled with Uncle Phobetor! It simply shows you!" "Yes," said Jurgen. "Still, I do not know. If you come with me into the Woods, Uncle Phobetor in his impetuous way will quite certainly turn you into a boar-pig, because he has always done that to the people who irritated him--" "I seem to recognise that reason." "--But give me time, and I can get around Uncle Phobetor, just as I have always done, and he will turn you back." "No," says Jurgen, obstinately, "I do not wish to be turned into a boar-pig." "Now, Jurgen, let us be sensible about this! Of course, it is a little humiliating. But I will take the very best of care of you, and feed you with my own acorns, and it will be a purely temporary arrangement. And to be a pig for a week or two, or even for a month, is infinitely better for a poet than being captured by the Philistines." "How do I know that?" says Jurgen. "--For it is not, after all, as if Uncle Phobetor's heart were not in the right place. It is just his way. And besides, you must remember what you did with that gimlet!" Said Jurgen: "All this is hardly to the purpose. You forget I have seen the hapless swine of Phobetor, and I know how he ameliorates the natural ferocity of his boar-pigs. No, I am Jurgen. So I remain. I will face the Philistines and whatever they may possibly do to me, rather than suffer that which Phobetor will quite certainly do to me." "Then I stay too," said Chloris.