“But, O son of Œdipus,” the maidens made reply, “we hear the rolling of the chariot wheels, and the rattling of the axles, and the jingling of the bridle reins.”

“What then?” said the King, “if the ship labor in the sea, and the helmsman leave the helm and fly to the prow that he may pray before the image, doeth he well?”

Stories of the Old world — Part 27

“Nay, blame us not that we came to beseech the Gods when we heard the hailstorm of war rattling on the gates.”

Stories of the Old world — Part 27

“’Tis well,” cried the King, “yet men say that the Gods leave the city that is at the point to fall. And mark ye this, that safety is the child of obedience. But as for duty, ’tis for men to do sacrifice to the Gods, and for women to keep silence and to abide at home.”

Stories of the Old world — Part 27

But the maidens made reply, “’Tis the Gods who keep this city, nor do they transgress who reverence them.”

“Yea, but let them reverence them in due order. And now hearken to me. Keep ye silence. And when I have made my prayer, raise ye a joyful shout that shall gladden the hearts of our friends and put away all fear from them. And to the Gods that keep this city I vow that if they give us victory in this war I will sacrifice to them sheep and oxen, and will hang up in their houses the spoils of the enemy. And now, ye maidens, do ye also make your prayers, but not with vain clamor. And I will choose seven men, being myself the seventh, who shall meet the seven that come against the gates of our city.”

Then the King departed, and the maidens made their prayer after this fashion: “My heart feareth as a dove feareth the serpent for her young ones, so cruelly doth the enemy come about this city to destroy it! Shall ye find elsewhere as fair a land, ye Gods, if ye suffer this to be laid waste, or streams as sweet? Help us then, for indeed it is a grievous thing when men take a city; for the women, old and young, are dragged by the hair, and the men are slain with the sword, and there is slaughter and burning, while they that plunder cry each man to his comrade, and the fruits of the earth are wasted upon the ground; nor is there any hope but in death.”

And as they made an end, the King came back, and at the same time a messenger bringing tidings of the battle, how the seven chiefs had ranged themselves each against a gate of the city. And the man’s story was this.