Eriphyle

He has brought up this youth in ignorance of his rights and taught him to suppose that his grandfather, Melampus, held only the rank of a younger brother to the king from whom Adrastus himself inherits the whole land.

Covetousness, my little wife, is the root of strange evils among men, and it is well seen in this greedy king and his greedier sister, Eriphyle.

Like brother, like sister.

Because she has lost a gewgaw that you and I would not give a mouse for, she has sent this lad who loves her to the world's end to look for its like." "How wise you are," said the lady owl.

He had heard, too, that Melampus, when his end was near, desired that he might not be buried among the royal tombs of Argos, but rest under the open sky and among the woods which he had loved to haunt.

Here, then, they had buried him and built an altar and an unroofed shrine, but none had brought offerings to the tomb nor repaired the crumbling walls for many years through fear of Adrastus and of his father before him, who had threatened to punish any that showed honor to the memory of Melampus.

Amphiaraus scarcely believed the owl had told the true tale about the king, his kinsman, who had always treated him with kindness, and he felt sure that he had spoken very unjustly against Eriphyle.

"But I will soon see," he thought, "if the bird was right about the magpie and the earring." So he climbed the sycamore, and there indeed was the jewel in the magpie's nest.

Believe me, he has great things in store for you which I may not speak of now.

But as for Acastus, know that his wife brought a lying tale to him, feigning that you had sought to do him that very wrong which she would have bribed you to commit.

Greatly did Peleus marvel how the centaur could know all this, for he had said no word to anyone of the queen's wickedness, not only because he knew that she would utterly deny it and none would believe him, but because a brave man will tell no tales of a woman, however bad she may be.

Chiron smiled as though he guessed his thoughts and took him gently by the hand.

He has brought up this youth in ignorance of his rights and taught him to suppose that his grandfather Melampus held only the rank of a younger brother to the king from whom Adrastus himself inherits the whole land.

Covetousness, my little wife, is the root of strange evils among men, and it is well seen in this greedy king and his greedier sister, Eriphyle.

Like brother, like sister.

Because she has lost a gewgaw that you and I would not give a mouse for, she has sent this lad who loves her to the world's end to look for its like." "How wise you are," said the lady owl.

He had heard, too, that Melampus, when his end was near, desired that he might not be buried among the royal tombs of Argos, but rest under the open sky and among the woods which he had loved to haunt.

Here, then, they had buried him and built an altar and an unroofed shrine, but none had brought offerings to the tomb nor repaired the crumbling walls for many years, through fear of Adrastus and of his father before him, who had threatened to punish any that showed honor to the memory of Melampus.

Amphiaraus scarcely believed the owl had told the true tale about the king, his kinsman, who had always treated him with kindness, and he felt sure that he had spoken very unjustly against Eriphyle.

But I will soon see, he thought, if the bird was right about the magpie and the earring.

It was an earring curiously wrought, and hung with a pear-shaped pearl, and there were no such earrings in all the land of Greece as this and its fellow, which a trader from across the sea had brought to Argos out of the East.

Therefore the Princess Eriphyle could not be comforted with any gift for the loss of it, and great search was made in all the house, and in the king's orchard and garden, but it could not be found.

Amphiaraus searched with the rest, and could not bear to see the grief of the pretty princess.

He sought to comfort her as best he could, and entreated her not to grieve, saying, "The earring will surely be found some day, and meanwhile have you not hundreds of other jewels? Do not vex yourself, Eriphyle, and spoil your dear eyes with weeping, or you will break my heart." "Oh," she cried, "what a false boy this is.

He would have me think he loves me, when he will not do the least little thing for my sake." "I know not what you mean," he answered, bewildered.

"What is there I would not do to please you?" "If you loved me truly," she said, "you would never rest day or night till you brought me my earring, my lovely pearl earring that I prize so dearly, or else the match of it." "One of those things I will do," said Amphiaraus, "and I will see your face no more till I have done it." And he went out of the chamber where she sat crying and scolding her women.

He waited till nightfall, lest any one should see and hinder his going.

Then he took a cloak and a staff, and put on sandals, and stole out of the king's house, and out of the city gate from which the road led to the nearest harbor town.

He has brought up this youth in ignorance of his rights and taught him to suppose that his grandfather Melampus held only the rank of a younger brother to the king from whom Adrastus himself inherits the whole land.

Covetousness, my little wife, is the root of strange evils among men, and it is well seen in this greedy king and his greedier sister, Eriphyle.

Like brother, like sister.

Because she has lost a gewgaw that you and I would not give a mouse for, she has sent this lad who loves her to the world's end to look for its like." "How wise you are," said the lady owl.

But none had brought offerings to the tomb nor repaired the crumbling walls for many years, through fear of Adrastus and of his father before him, who had threatened to punish any that showed honor to the memory of Melampus.

Amphiaraus scarcely believed the owl had told the true tale about the king, his kinsman, who had always treated him with kindness.

And he felt sure that he had spoken very unjustly against Eriphyle.

"But I will soon see," he thought, "if the bird was right about the magpie and the earring." So he climbed the sycamore, and there indeed was the jewel in the magpie's nest.

Odysseus goes on for 100 lines describing, "I saw this legendary woman and this great heroine and this woman", and then suddenly he comes to a stopping place.

Odysseus tells us, "And I saw Clymene, Neaera, and loathsome Eriphyle, bribed with a golden necklace to lure her lawful husband to his death.

But the whole cortege I could never tally, never name, not all the daughters and wives of great men I saw there.

Long before that, the godsent night would ebb away.

He heeded not the farewells and blessings of the crowd about the city gate, but gazed before him as though in a trance, until, as he passed through the archway, he turned and looked back at the white porch of his home.

There, between his two young sons, Eriphyle was standing, and their eyes met in one long last look.

Never a word had they spoken to one another since she had said the word that sent him forth to his fate, and she had shunned the sight of his calm, sad face.

She could not read the meaning of the glance he now turned upon her, but it seemed to pierce her very heart.

He has brought up this youth in ignorance of his rights and taught him to suppose that his grandfather Melampus held only the rank of a younger brother to the king from whom Adrastus himself inherits the whole land.

Covetousness, my little wife, is the root of strange evils among men, and it is well seen in this greedy king and his greedier sister, Eriphyle.

Like brother, like sister.

Because she has lost a gewgaw that you and I would not give a mouse for, she has sent this lad who loves her to the world's end to look for its like." "How wise you are," said the lady owl.

He had heard, too, that Melampus, when his end was near, desired that he might not be buried among the royal tombs of Argos, but rest under the open sky and among the woods which he had loved to haunt.

Here, then, they had buried him and built an altar and an unroofed shrine, but none had brought offerings to the tomb nor repaired the crumbling walls for many years, through fear of Adrastus and of his father before him, who had threatened to punish any that showed honor to the memory of Melampus.

Amphiaraus scarcely believed the owl had told the true tale about the king, his kinsman, who had always treated him with kindness, and he felt sure that he had spoken very unjustly against Eriphyle.

But I will soon see, he thought, if the bird was right about the magpie and the earring.

Amphiaraus searched with the rest, and could not bear to see the grief of the pretty princess.

He sought to comfort her as best he could, and entreated her not to grieve, saying, The earring will surely be found some day, and meanwhile have you not hundreds of other jewels? "Do not vex yourself, Eriphyle, and spoil your dear eyes with weeping, or you will break my heart." "Oh," she cried, "what a false boy this is.

He would have me think he loves me, when he will not do the least little thing for my sake." "I know not what you mean," he answered, bewildered.

"What is there I would not do to please you?" "If you loved me truly," she said, "you would never rest, day or night, till you brought me my earring, my lovely pearl earring that I prize so dearly, or else the match of it." "One of those things I will do," said Amphiaraus, "and I will see your face no more till I have done it." And he went out of the chamber where she sat, crying and scolding her women.

He waited till nightfall, lest anyone should see and hinder his going.

Then he took a cloak and a staff, and put on sandals, and stole out of the king's house, and out of the city gate from which the road led to the nearest harbor town.

For he thought that there he might find some ship bound for the lands of the east, where only in the world craftsmen made earrings like the princess Eriphyle's.

It was a summer's night, and the clear heaven shone thick with stars, like bright kind eyes looking down upon his lonely way.

I am well content that Pelops should abide there for a time.

Doubt not that he will be restored to us ere long, for I must tell you that the immortals have made me their chosen friend and boon companion, and loaded me with such proofs of favor that I am certain they will refuse me nothing I desire.

Now the queen was a meek and gentle lady, who held her lord for the most wonderful of men, and thought it not strange that even the gods were glad to have him for a friend.

But she loved her little son so dearly that she was only half comforted to hear where he was, since she was never happy when he was out of her sight.

But Pelops had often said to the queen, My father, who had eaten the bread of immortality, cannot be dead, and when I become a man, I will go up to the mountain and look for him in that valley among the cliffs, for something tells me he is there.

And though his mother besought him not to venture to that fearful place in the vain hope of finding one whom the gods had assuredly hidden from them forever, the young prince held steadfastly to that purpose.

At last, on a day that he went hunting, the chase brought him and his companions to the foot of the mountain, and all the rest turned back, but he called to them that he would not lose the heart they followed for an idle fear and went on alone.

It was noon when he left them, but the sun was already low in the west when he stood among the rocks on the mountaintop and gazed with a beating heart into the crag-walled hollow between the peaks.