Children of the Dawn Part 29

There it lay, smooth and s.h.i.+ning, a sure token that he had not been dreaming. So he took it and showed it to OEnone, and told her what Iris, the messenger of the G.o.ds, had said to him. When OEnone heard it she was filled with fear.

"Cast it at their feet, Paris, when they come to thee," she begged, "and say thou canst not set thyself up to be a judge of the Immortals."

"Nay, that would anger them against me," he said; for in his heart he was proud to have been chosen out of all the sons of men.

"I tell thee it will bring thee trouble if thou doest it, and to me sorrow unspeakable," said she.

"Did the winning of the bull bring sorrow either to thee or to me?" he asked scornfully.

OEnone was silent under his rebuke, though she knew her foreboding would come true. When the sun was almost high in the heavens, she came to him softly where he lay on the gra.s.s and kissed his hand.

"Zeus grant thee wisdom in thy judgment, Paris," she said, and glided away swiftly through the trees, that he might not see the tears in her eyes.

Then his heart smote him for his scornful words, and he rose up hastily from the ground and called to her,

"OEnone, OEnone!"

But she answered him not, and when he looked for her among the trees, he could find no trace of her. Now it was close upon noon, and he hastened back to the glade, where Iris had bidden him stay, and waited for the coming of the G.o.ddesses. In the clear bright light of noontide they came and stood before him in the shade of the forest trees; and he fell on his knees before them, filled with wonder and awe, and cast his eyes upon the ground, for he was afraid to look upon such majesty and beauty. Thereupon they drew near to him and bade him not be afraid, but rise and give his judgment. So he rose from his knees and looked upon them; and minute after minute pa.s.sed, while still he gazed, for he could not make up his mind, so pa.s.sing fair was each.

"Ah, lady G.o.ddesses," he said at last, "take the apple and divide it into three, for I cannot say who is the fairest among you."

"Nay, that may not be," they said; "thou must give it to one, and one alone."

As he still hesitated, Hera spoke.

"Look well upon me, Paris," she said. "I am the Queen of Heaven, and wife of Zeus almighty, and all power and might is in my hands. I can give thee kings.h.i.+p and sovereignty, and dominion over many peoples.

See to it that my might is for thee, and not against."

As she spoke his heart turned cold with fear, and from terror he would have given her the apple. But as he was about to stretch forth his hand, Pallas Athene spoke.

"O Paris, what is power without wisdom? Purple and gold, and to sit where others kneel--all these things make not a king. But to walk by the light of knowledge where others grope in darkness--this can make a slave a ruler of kings. This can I give thee."

Then the voice of reason within him prompted him to give the apple to her; but once again he was withheld, as Aphrodite spoke.

"Power and wisdom, Paris? What are these but empty words at which men vainly grasp? I can give thee that which all men covet--the fairest of women for thine own."

The music of her voice made the blood rush like fire through his veins, and his heart was melted within him.

"O Aphrodite," he cried, and fell at her feet, "thou art fairest.

Beside love, what is power, what is wisdom? I give thee the apple, O thou fairest among the fair!"

As she stretched forth her hand towards him to take the apple, a mist fell over his eyes, and he knew no more. When he awoke the apple and the G.o.ddesses had vanished away, and OEnone was bending over him weeping.

"Alas," she said, "my father, whose stream runs at thy feet, has told me thy choice, Paris, and I am come to bid thee farewell."

"Farewell, OEnone? Why farewell?" he cried, and stretched out his arms to her. The flame of Aphrodite still burned in his heart, and to his eyes OEnone had never looked more fair than now.

"Because of Aphrodite's promise," she answered.

"Ah, OEnone!" he cried, and took her in his arms, "now I know what that promise meant. Thou art the fairest of women, and thou art mine, beloved, and Aphrodite's promise was fulfilled ere she made it."

"Nay, nay, that is not what she meant. I may be fair, Paris, yet I am no woman, but a child of the mountain waters. One day thou wilt forget me, and thy heart will turn to thine own kind. In that day Aphrodite has promised that the fairest of women shall be thine, and she will surely keep her word."

"Thou art woman enough for me," he said, "and I shall never want any other than thee." He kissed her, and comforted her as best he could.

The hours fled by like minutes, the moon rose high in heaven, and one by one the stars came out, yet still they sat and talked of love, and of how they would be faithful to each other always. In like manner day after day pa.s.sed by, and no two lovers in all the land were happier than Paris and OEnone.

Now it chanced that about this time Menelaus, King of Sparta, came to Troy, at the command of the oracle at Delphi. For a year past his land had been laid waste by a grievous famine, and when he inquired the cause of it, the oracle bade him go to Troy and offer sacrifices at the tomb of Lycus and Chimaereus, the sons of Prometheus, for until their spirits were appeased the land of Sparta would be barren, and her sons would die of hunger in her streets. So Menelaus set sail for Troy, and Priam and all his house received him with joy. They held great feasts in his honour, and treated him hospitably, as befitted the king of a mighty people. When he had performed his task, and the time had come for him to return, he said to Priam,

"My friend, thou hast treated me right royally, and I in my turn would fain do thee some service. Say, wilt thou not sail with me to Sparta, and see my palace, which s.h.i.+neth as the sun for splendour, and Helen, my wife, who is the fairest in a land where the women are fairer than all other women?"

But Priam shook his head.

"I am an old man, Menelaus, and my travelling days are done. But if thou wouldst truly do me a service, thou wilt take with thee my son Paris as thy guest. He is of an age now to travel and see strange lands, and I could not entrust him to better hands than thine. Say, wilt thou take him or no?"

"I will take him right gladly," answered Menelaus, "seeing that since I cannot have thyself, no other man would please me so well as thy son. Bid the young man be ready, and he shall sail with me and my folk."

When Paris heard the news, he was glad; for never in his life had he set foot outside the land of Troy, and he longed to see the riches of Menelaus and all the wonders of his palace in Sparta. Ere the sun had risen he was in the woods of Ida telling OEnone of the voyage he must take.

"Nay, grieve not, beloved," he said, as she turned her face sadly away; "for a few short months I must leave thee, but I will come back to thee with many a long tale of the wonders I have seen. There is nought like travel to make a man hold up his head among his fellows, and the seeing of strange things that others have not seen."

"There is nought like travel," she said, "to make a man forget his home, and love the new things better than the old."

"Dost thou think me so faithless, OEnone?"

"Many men are faithful till they meet temptation," she replied.

"Had I listened to thee, I should still have been a shepherd on the mountains, knowing neither kith nor kin."

"It would have been happier so," said she.

"OEnone, I must not heed thy fears. Remember, I am a king's son, and I must live my life as befits a man, and not be ever held back by a woman's arms."

"The G.o.ds grant thou mayest always think so, Paris. Fare thee well, then; I will stay thee no longer, but I will watch for thy coming as never woman watched before. If evil fortune befall thee, Paris, come back to me, and I will save thee."

So, with many a promise not to forget her, but to come back to her as soon as might be, he left her and set sail with Menelaus.

And they crossed the blue aegaean and came to glorious Sparta, lying low among the circling hills. And Menelaus made his guest welcome, and showed him all the splendours of his palace, with its inlaid columns and its frieze of gold and blue. His stable and horses did he show him, and the stadium where the races were run and his treasure-house beneath the ground. Last of all he took him to Helen, his wife.

Now Helen, fairer than the sun in heaven, was sitting among her maidens, and when her lord and Paris entered, she rose from her chair and came forward with a smile to greet them. In the curve of her neck, in the gleam of her hair, there was magic, and a witchery about her face and form that no man could withstand; for she was the fairest of all women under the sun, that ever had been or ever should be in time to come. Many a man in his day loved Helen of Sparta, and many a man did she love in return; for so the G.o.ds had made her, exceeding fair and exceeding fickle, a joy and a curse among men.

As Paris looked upon her, her beauty reached his heart like the fumes of wine, and he forgot himself and his native land and OEnone; he forgot all pride and manliness, and the ties of honour that bound him to his host--all but his pa.s.sion for Helen. Day and night he thought of her and of her alone, and of how he might make her his own; and day and night he plotted and planned, and at last he gained his end. For Aphrodite, true to her word, helped him, as she alone could do, and kindled in the heart of Helen an answering flame, making her for the time being love Paris more than Menelaus, her lord, or any other man.

And she cast dust in the eyes of Menelaus, so that he saw not how the two lived only for each other, nor suspected his guest of any treachery. So one dark night they fled away together to Gythium, and from thence they sailed to Cranae, and were wedded, and had joy of their love, forgetful of all else.

OEnone, meanwhile, wandered lonely about the woods and groves of Ida. With a heavy heart she had watched the s.h.i.+ps of Menelaus sail away, and now, day by day, she would go down to the sh.o.r.e and look out across the sea towards h.e.l.las. High up upon a rock she would sit and sigh for him.

"Ah, Paris, between thee and me lies many a weary league of barren waters and many a misty mountain chain. But my heart is with thee in that strange new land. Oh, Paris, forget me not, but come back to me soon, beloved."

Thus would she sigh day by day; but he came not. Month after month pa.s.sed by, and still he came not, nor any news of him, and his father and all the city were troubled to know what might have befallen him.

So they manned a s.h.i.+p, and sent it out to Sparta to get news, and in time it returned home to tell how Paris and Helen had fled from Menelaus, and how Menelaus had set out in pursuit, and had followed them to the land of Egypt. After that no man knew where they had gone, or whether, perchance, Paris and Menelaus had met in deadly battle and fallen each by the other's hand, or what might have chanced. All the land was plunged in woe to think that Paris had so far forgotten his honour as to steal away the wife of his host. But still they kept watch by day and by night, in case he should come back and be persuaded to give her up and make what amends he could.