led
The pyre in Oeta, where he got his ease
In death, where all the ills of brave men cease.
Nay, Love I proffer thee; beyond the brine
Of all the currents of the Western seas,
The fairest woman in the world is thine!'

LVII.

"She spake, and touched the prize, and all grew dim
I heard no voice of anger'd Deity,
But round me did the night air swoon and swim,
And, when I waken'd, lo! the sun was high,
And in that place accursed did I lie,
Where Agelaus found the naked child;
Then with swift foot I did arise and fly
Forth from the deeps of that enchanted wild.

LVIII.

"And down I sped to Ilios, down the dell
Where, years agone, the white bull guided me,
And through green boughs beheld where foam'd and fell
The merry waters of the Western sea;
Of Love the sweet birds sang from sky and tree,
And swift I reach'd the haven and the shore,
And call'd my mariners, and follow'd free
Where Love might lead across the waters hoar.

LIX.

"Three days with fair winds ran we, then we drave
Before the North that made the long waves swell
Round Malea; but hardly from the wave
We 'scaped at Pylos, Nestor's citadel;
And there the son of Neleus loved us well,
And brought us to the high prince, Diocles,
Who led us hither, and it thus befell
That here, below thy roof, we sit at ease."

LX.

Then all men gave the stranger thanks and praise,
And Menelaus for red wine bade call;
And the sun fell, and dark were all the ways;
Then maidens set forth braziers in the hall,
And heap'd them high with lighted brands withal;
But Helen pass'd, as doth the fading day
Pass from the world, and softly left them all
Loud o'er their wine amid the twilight grey.

LXI.

So night drew on with rain, nor yet they ceased
Within the hall to drink the gleaming wine,
And late they pour'd the last cup of the feast,
To Argus-bane, the Messenger divine;
And last, 'neath torches tall that smoke and shine,
The maidens strew'd the beds with purple o'er,
That Diocles and Paris might recline
All night, beneath the echoing corridor.

BOOK II--THE SPELL OF APHRODITE

The coming of Aphrodite, and how she told Helen that she must depart in
company with Paris, but promised withal that Helen, having fallen into a
deep sleep, should awake forgetful of her old life, and ignorant of her
shame, and blameless of those evil deeds that the Goddess thrust upon
her.

I.

Now in the