among the men of Greece. And let it come to pass, that when they see
his valiant deeds, his countrymen shall say, "Behold, this youth is
greater than his father," and all of one accord shall hail him as their
guardian king.'

"Then his mother, Althea, weeping tears of joy, prayed that the boy
might grow up to be pure-minded and gentle, the hope and pride of his
parents, and the delight and staff of their declining years.

"Scarcely had the words of prayer died from her lips, when there came
into her chamber the three unerring Fates who spin the destinies of
men. White-robed and garlanded, they stood beside the babe, and with
unwearied fingers drew out the lines of his untried life. Clotho held
the golden distaff in her hand, and twirled and twisted the delicate
thread. Lachesis, now sad, now hopeful, with her long white fingers
held the hour-glass, and framed her lips to say, 'It is enough.' And
Atropos, blind and unpitying as the future always is, stood ready, with
cruel shears, to clip the twist in twain. Busily and silently Clotho
spun; and the golden thread, thin as a spider's web, yet beautiful as a
sunbeam, grew longer and more golden between her skilful fingers. Then
Lachesis cried out, 'It is finished!' But Atropos hid her shears
beneath her mantle, and said, 'Not so. Behold, there is a brand
burning upon the hearth. Wait until it is all burned into ashes and
smoke, and then I will cut the thread of the child's life. Spin on,
sweet Clotho!'

"Quick as thought, Althea sprang forward, snatched the blazing brand
from the hearth, and quenched its flame in a jar of water; and when she
knew that not a single spark was left glowing upon it, she locked it
safely in a chest where none but she could find it. As she did this,