nor her eyeballs, but looked straight through and through him, and
into his very heart, as if she could see all the secrets of his
soul, and knew all that he had ever thought or longed for since the
day that he was born. And Perseus dropped his eyes, trembling and
blushing, as the wonderful lady spoke.

'Perseus, you must do an errand for me.'

'Who are you, lady? And how do you know my name?'

'I am Pallas Athene; and I know the thoughts of all men's hearts,
and discern their manhood or their baseness. And from the souls of
clay I turn away, and they are blest, but not by me. They fatten
at ease, like sheep in the pasture, and eat what they did not sow,
like oxen in the stall. They grow and spread, like the gourd along
the ground; but, like the gourd, they give no shade to the
traveller, and when they are ripe death gathers them, and they go
down unloved into hell, and their name vanishes out of the land.

'But to the souls of fire I give more fire, and to those who are
manful I give a might more than man's. These are the heroes, the
sons of the Immortals, who are blest, but not like the souls of
clay. For I drive them forth by strange paths, Perseus, that they
may fight the Titans and the monsters, the enemies of Gods and men.
Through doubt and need, danger and battle, I drive them; and some
of them are slain in the flower of youth, no man knows when or
where; and some of them win noble names, and a fair and green old
age; but what will be their latter end I know not, and none, save
Zeus, the father of Gods and men. Tell me now, Perseus, which of
these two sorts of men seem to you more blest?'