t
be the first to speak. And she said, "I know, O man of much toil and
sorrow, that thy heart is sad within thee, and that thou knowest not
which way thou shalt turn. Come then with me, and I will lead thee on
a soft and pleasant road, where no storms shall vex thee and no
sorrows shall trouble thee. Thou shalt never hear of wars and battles,
and sickness and pain shall not come nigh to thee; but all day long
shalt thou feast at rich banquets and listen to the songs of
minstrels. Thou shalt not want for sparkling wine, and soft robes, and
pleasant couches; thou shalt not lack the delights of love, for the
bright eyes of maidens shall look gently upon thee, and their songs
shall lull thee to sleep in the soft evening hour, when the stars come
out in the sky." And Herakles said, "Thou promisest to me pleasant
things, lady, and I am sorely pressed down by a hard master. What is
thy name?" "My friends," said she, "call me the happy and joyous one;
and they who look not upon me with love have given me an evil name,
but they speak falsely."

Then the other spake, and said, "O Herakles, I, too, know whence thou
art, and the doom which is laid upon thee, and how thou hast lived and
toiled even from the days of thy childhood; and therefore I think that
thou wilt give me thy love, and if thou dost, then men shall speak of
thy good deeds in time to come, and my name shall be yet more exalted.
But I have no fair words wherewith to cheat thee. Nothing good is ever
reached without labor; nothing great is ever won without toil. If thou
seek for fruit from the earth thou must tend and till it; if thou
wouldst have the favor of the undying gods thou must come before them
with prayers and offerings; if thou longest for the love of men thou
must do them good." Then the other brake in upon her words, and said,
"Thou seest, Herakles, that Arete seeks to lead thee on a long and
weary path, but my broad and easy road leads thee quickly to
happiness." Then Arete answered her (and her eye flashed with anger),
"O wretched one, what good thing hast thou to give, and what pleasure
canst thou feel, who knowest not what it is to toil? Thy lusts are
pampered, thy taste is dull. Thou quaffest the rich wine before thou
art thirsty, and fillest thyself with dainties before thou art
hungry. Though thou art numbered amongst the undying ones the gods
have cast thee forth out of heaven, and good men scorn thee. The
sweetest of all sounds, when a man's hear