The Heroes; Or, Greek Fairy Tales for My Children — John Shaqi
The Heroes; Or, Greek Fairy Tales for My ChildrenKingsley, Charles
General
The Heroes; Or, Greek Fairy Tales for My Children
Kingsley, Charles
Mythology, Greek -- Juvenile literature
And what happened next, my children, whether it be true or not, stands
written in ancient songs, which you shall read for yourselves some day.
And grand old songs they are, written in grand old rolling verse; and
they call them the Songs of Orpheus, or the Orphics, to this day. And
they tell how the heroes came to Aphetai, across the bay, and waited for
the south-west wind, and chose themselves a captain from their crew: and
how all called for Heracles, because he was the strongest and most huge;
but Heracles refused, and called for Jason, because he was the wisest of
them all. So Jason was chosen captain; and Orpheus heaped a pile of
wood, and slew a bull, and offered it to Hera, and called all the heroes
to stand round, each man’s head crowned with olive, and to strike their
swords into the bull. Then he filled a golden goblet with the bull’s
blood, and with wheaten flour, and honey, and wine, and the bitter
salt-sea water, and bade the heroes taste. So each tasted the goblet,
and passed it round, and vowed an awful vow: and they vowed before the
sun, and the night, and the blue-haired sea who shakes the land, to stand
by Jason faithfully in the adventure of the golden fleece; and whosoever
shrank back, or disobeyed, or turned traitor to his vow, then justice
should minister against him, and the Erinnues who track guilty men.
Then Jason lighted the pile, and burnt the carcase of the bull; and they
went to their ship and sailed eastward, like men who have a work to do;
and the place from which they went was called Aphetai, the sailing-place,
from that day forth. Three thousand years and more they sailed away,
into the unknown Eastern seas; and great nations have come and gone since
then, and many a storm has swept the earth; and many a mighty armament,
to which _Argo_ would be but one small boat; English and French, Turkish
and Russian, have sailed those waters since; yet the fame of that small
_Argo_ lives for ever, and her name is become a proverb among men.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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