Ancient Greek
Demeter rejoiced for her daughter was by her side
So for six glad months each year Demeter rejoiced, for her daughter was by her side, and ever it was spring and summer while Persephone dwelt on earth. But when the time came for her to return to Hades, Demeter grew ever cold and sad, and the earth too became weary and grey. It was autumn and winter in the world until Persephone returned once more.
For two days and two nights the boat was tossed hither and thither
One day the guards saw the babe on his mother’s knee. Here was the grandson about whom the king had hoped that he would never be born. In great alarm they hastened to the palace to tell the king the strange tidings. Acrisius was so frightened when he heard their story that he flew into a passion, and vowed that both Danae and Perseus, as her little son was named, should perish. So he ordered the guards to carry the mother and her babe to the seashore, and to send them adrift on the waters in an empty boat. For two days and two nights the boat was tossed hither and thither by the winds and the waves, while Danae, in sore dismay but with a brave heart, clasped her golden-haired boy tight in her arms. The child slept sound in the frail bark, while his mother cried to the gods to bring her and her treasure into a safe haven.
He became a target for every arrow
But it proved impossible to land. Again and again the Spartan admiral made the attempt, but each time he was forced to withdraw, lest his ships should be dashed upon the rocks. Brasidas refused to give in, and he bade his men wreck their vessels rather than be beaten back. ‘Be not sparing of timber,’ he cried, ‘for the enemy has built a fortress in your country. Perish the ships and force a landing.’ Spurred on by his words, the men drove their ship upon the beach, while Brasidas stood fearlessly on the gangway ready to leap upon the shore. But the Athenians saw the bold figure too well, and he became a target for every arrow.
He drank the contents as though it were a draught of wine
For thirty days Socrates was in prison, and he spent the time in talking to his friends just as he had been used to do in the market-place. One of his disciples, named Crito, bribed the jailer to allow his prisoner to escape, but Socrates refused to flee. He did not fear death, but faced it calmly as he had faced life. On the day before the sentence was carried out, he talked quietly to his disciples of the life to which he was going, for he believed that his soul, which was his real self, would live after he had laid aside his body as a garment. When the cup of hemlock, a poisoned draught, was brought to him, his friends wept, but he took the cup in his hand, and drank the contents as though it were a draught of wine.
He left the assembly, hiding his face in his cloak
Suddenly he felt some one touch his arm, and looking up he saw a very old man who had been in the assembly, and had heard him speak. He had seen how disappointed Demosthenes was as he left the hall, and he had determined to encourage him. So first he praised the crestfallen orator, saying that his speech had reminded him of the great orator Pericles, and then he upbraided the young man for being so easily discouraged by the laughter of the people. Demosthenes allowed himself to be comforted and made up his mind to try again, thinking that perhaps after all he would be able to make the people listen to him. But in spite of all his efforts he could not hold their attention, and he left the assembly, hiding his face in his cloak that none might see his sorrow.
He ran toward the horse and seized the bridle
A moment later the order was given, and the Macedonians rushed upon the great hosts of the enemy. Darius thought that his war-chariots would cause deadly havoc among his enemies, for scythes were fastened to the wheels to mow down all who came within reach. But the Macedonian archers drew their bows and sped their arrows among the charioteers, while the strongest seized the reins of the horses, and pulled the drivers from their seats. Then the soldiers opened wide their ranks so that those chariots that still had drivers rattled harmlessly past them.
He stood silent before the king
So at length the Athenian was brought into the presence of Artaxerxes, and after having prostrated himself he stood silent before the king. ‘Who art thou?’ asked Artaxerxes. ‘O king,’ answered the exile, ‘I am Themistocles the Athenian, driven into banishment by the Greeks. I come with a mind suited to my present calamities; prepared alike for favours and for anger. If you save me you will save your suppliant; if otherwise, you will destroy an enemy of the Greeks.’
In the earliest times, a simple foot-race was the only event
In the Olympian temple, in later days, there was a marvellous statue of Zeus in gold and ivory, wrought by the genius of Pheidias, the greatest sculptor of Greece. The games were open to all, and spectators as well as competitors flocked to Olympia from every state in Greece. To the Greeks these games were part of their religion; they were rites pleasing, so they believed, to the gods. Should there be war between any of the Greek States at the time of the games, all hostile acts were forbidden in Olympia. Until the festival was over, those who had been in arms, one against another, might meet in safety and in peace. Twice or thrice an armed force made its way into the sacred territory of Elis to interfere with the games. This to the Greeks was sacrilege. In the earliest times the games lasted only for one day, and a simple foot-race was the only event. But soon the festival came to last for five days, for there were now, not only foot-races, but wrestling, boxing, racing in armour, and above all else chariot races. In these races it was not the driver who, if successful, won the wreath of olive, but the owner of the chariot.
Map of Greece
Often she would stand upon the walls of Troy
Achilles set sail with the other chiefs for Troy, so it seemed as though the city would be taken by his help, as the oracle foretold. With him Achilles took his well-loved friend Patroclus. For nine long years was the city of Troy besieged, and all for the sake of Helen the beautiful Queen of Sparta. Often as the years passed, she would stand upon the walls of Troy to look at the brave warriors of Hellas, to wonder when they would take the city. But when nine years had passed, no breach had yet been made in the walls.
She changed her into a spider
A glance had been enough to show her that her skill was as nothing before the wonder and the beauty of Athene’s work. Too late the maiden repented that she had defied the goddess. In her despair she seized a rope and tied it round her neck to hang herself. But the goddess saw what Arachne meant to do, and at once she changed her into a spider, bidding her from henceforth never cease to spin. And so when you see a spider weaving its beautiful embroidery on a dewy morning in the garden, or when you find a delicate web in your lumber-room, you will remember how Athene punished poor foolish Arachne in the days of old.
Ship dashed against ship, till the Persian dead strewed the deep ‘like flowers,’
Meantime the Persian ships were driven into the narrow strait. Ship dashed against ship till the Persian dead strewed the deep ‘like flowers.’ When evening fell, two hundred Persian ships had been destroyed and the Greeks had won the great sea-battle of Salamis. The glory of the victory was due to Themistocles. There might indeed have been no battle at Salamis had he not tricked both the Persian king and the Greek admirals.
Solon, the wise lawgiver of Athens
Solon, the wise lawgiver of Athens, was a descendant of King Codrus. His father had given away most of his wealth to help his city or his countrymen, so Solon became a merchant, as the sons of noblemen often did in these days of long ago. To increase his business, Solon journeyed through many of the states of Greece as well as to Asia. Wherever he went he studied the laws and manners of the people, just as Lycurgus the lawgiver of Sparta had done. Solon was not only a merchant, he was also a poet, and because he was both wise and learned he was counted one of the seven sages of Greece. When Solon returned from one of his journeys about 593 b.c., he was made an archon and asked to reform the laws.
Sweet, piercing sweet was the music of Pan’s pipe
The great god Pan, protector of the shepherds and their flocks, was half man, half goat. Every one loved this strange god, who yet ofttimes startled mortals by his wild and wilful ways. When to-day a sudden, needless fear overtakes a crowd, and we say a panic has fallen upon it, we are using a word which we learned from the name of this old pagan god. Down by the streams the great god Pan was sometimes seen to wander— ‘What was he doing, the great god Pan, Down in the reeds by the river? Spreading ruin and scattering ban, Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat, And breaking the golden lilies afloat, With the dragon-fly on the river. ‘He tore out a reed, the great god Pan, From the deep cool bank of the river,’ and then sitting down he ‘hacked and hewed, as a great god can,’ at the slender reed. He made it hollow, and notched out holes, and lo! there was a flute ready for his use. Sweet, piercing sweet was the music of Pan’s pipe as the god placed his mouth upon the holes.
The figure of the goddess was a colossal one
The figure of the goddess [Athene], fashioned by the magic hands of the sculptor Pheidias, was a colossal one. Calm, majestic, with a smile upon her face, she stood in her wondrous temple, clad in a robe of gold. On her head she wore a helmet, in her right hand she held fast a little golden figure of the goddess of victory, while her left lay upon her shield. At her feet a snake lay coiled.
The Wind-god sent a gust from the South
Then an ugly passion, named jealousy, awoke in the heart of the god, for he too loved the little hunter Hyacinthus, and would fain have been in Apollo’s place. Zephyrus tarried a while to watch the friends. Once as Apollo flung his disc high into the air, the Wind-god sent a gust from the south which blew the quoit aside. He meant only to annoy Apollo, but Hyacinthus was standing by, so that the quoit struck him violently on the forehead. The lad fell to the ground, and soon he was faint from loss of blood. In vain Apollo tried to staunch the wound; nothing he could do was of any use. Little by little the boy’s strength ebbed away, and the Sun-god knew that the lad would never hunt or play again on earth. Hyacinthus was dead.
The multitude saluted him with loud acclamations
For two years, from 409 b.c. to 407 b.c., Alcibiades stayed at the Hellespont retaking cities which had thrown off their allegiance to Athens and joined Sparta. Then feeling that now he might return with glory, he set sail for Athens. Plutarch tells us that as Alcibiades drew near to the Piræus he was afraid to venture on shore, until he saw friends waiting to welcome him: ‘As soon as he was landed the multitude who came out to meet him scarcely seemed so much as to see any of the other captains, but came in throngs about Alcibiades and saluted him with loud acclamations, and still followed him; those who could press near him crowned him with garlands, and they who could not come up so close, yet stayed to behold him afar off, and the old men pointed him out and showed him to the young ones.’
They crashed into the Persian army with tremendous force
From their camp on a hill above the plain of Marathon, the Greeks looked down upon the vast army of the Persians. For several days no battle was fought, the Persians being unable to attack the Athenians without danger as they were on the hill. At length Miltiades, whom the other nine generals were willing to follow, resolved to wait no longer. He ordered his men to advance at a sharp run down the hill and to charge the enemy. When they had started, the soldiers could not stop themselves. Quicker and quicker they ran, until, when they reached the plain, they crashed into the Persian army with tremendous force.
With an effort he looked at them as they passed
A rumour that he was dead reached the Macedonians, and they hastened to the palace, begging to be allowed to see their king once more. Alexander was not dead, but he was too weak to speak, as one by one the soldiers were permitted to walk quietly past his bed. With an effort he looked at them as they passed, and feebly raised his hand in farewell. ‘After I am gone will you ever find a king worthy of such heroes as these?’ he murmured as they slowly filed out of the room. Then he drew his signet ring from his finger and gave it to an officer, saying that he left his kingdom ‘to the best man.’ So the great king passed away at the age of thirty-three.
Yea, verily, thou art Odysseus
But at length the queen dried her tears and called to Eurycleia to come wash the feet of the stranger, who was of the same age as her master. The old woman answered, ‘Gladly will I wash his feet, for many strangers travel-worn have ere now come hither, but I say that I have never seen any so like another as this stranger is like Odysseus, in fashion, in voice, and in feet.’ Then the king feared lest his old nurse should know him, and he turned his face from the hearth. But she, as she tended him, saw a scar on the spot where a boar had wounded him long years before, and she knew her master had come home. Tears well-nigh choked her, yet she touched his chin lightly and said, ‘Yea, verily, thou art Odysseus, my dear child.’