But of the luckless King now must we tell, Who sat devising means to 'scape that shame, Until the frightened people thronging came About the palace, and drove back the guards, Making their way past all the gates and wards; And, putting chamberlains and marshals by, Surged round the very throne tumultuously. Then knew the wretched King all folk had heard The miserable sentence, and the word The gods had spoken; and from out his seat He rose, and spoke in humble words, unmeet For a great King, and prayed them give him grace, While 'twixt his words the tears ran down his face On to his raiment stiff with golden thread. But little heeded they the words he said, For very fear had made them pitiless; Nor cared they for the maid and her distress, But clashed their spears together and 'gan cry: "For one man's daughter shall the people die, And this fair land become an empty name, Because thou art afraid to meet the shame Wherewith the gods reward thy hidden sin? Nay, by their glory do us right herein!" "Ye are in haste to have a poor maid slain," The King said; "but my will herein is vain, For ye are many, I one aged man: Let one man speak, if for his shame he can." Then stepped a sturdy dyer forth, who said,-- "Fear of the gods brings no shame, by my head. Listen; thy daughter we would have thee leave Upon the fated mountain this same eve; And thither must she go right well arrayed In marriage raiment, loose hair as a maid, And saffron veil, and with her shall there go Fair maidens bearing torches, two and two; And minstrels, in such raiment as is meet The god-ordainéd fearful spouse to greet. So shalt thou save our wives and little ones, And something better than a heap of stones, Dwelt in by noisesome things, this town shall be, And thou thyself shalt keep thy sovereignty; But if thou wilt not do the thing I say, Then shalt thou live in bonds from this same day, And we will bear thy maid unto the hill, And from the dread gods save the city still." Then loud they shouted at the words he said, And round the head of the unhappy maid, Dreaming uneasily of long-past joys, Floated the echo of that dreadful noise, And changed her dreams to dreams of misery. But when the King knew that the thing must be, And that no help there was in this distress, He bade them have all things in readiness To take the maiden out at sun-setting, And wed her to the unknown dreadful thing. So through the palace passed with heavy cheer Her women gathering the sad wedding gear, Who lingering long, yet at the last must go, To waken Psyche to her bitter woe. So coming to her bower, they found her there, From head to foot rolled in her yellow hair, As in the saffron veil she should be soon Betwixt the setting sun and rising moon; But when above her a pale maiden bent And touched her, from her heart a sigh she sent,