The Twilight of the Gods, and Other Tales | Page 7

meddling of mine."

"Let her tell you so now," retorted Prometheus.
"Tell me now! Do you pretend not to know that the hussey forsook
Olympus ten years ago, and has turned Christian?"
"I am sure I am very sorry to hear it. Somehow, she never forsook me. I
can't imagine how you Gods get on without her."
"Get on! We are getting off. Except Eros and Plutus, who seem as usual,
and the old Fates, who go on spinning as if nothing had happened, none
of us expects to last for another ten years. The sacrifices have dwindled
down to nothing. Zeus has put down his eagle. Hera has eaten her
peacocks. Apollo's lyre is never heard--pawned, no doubt. Bacchus
drinks water, and Venus--well, you can imagine how she gets on
without him and Ceres. And here you are, sleek and comfortable, and
never troubling yourself about your family. But you had better, or I
swear I will tell Zeus; and we shall see whether these Christians will
keep you with your ante-chamber full of starving gods. Take a day to
think of what I have been saying!"
And away she flounced, not noticing Elenko. Long and earnestly did
the pair discuss the perils that menaced them, and at the end of their
deliberations Elenko sought the Bishop, and briefly imparted the
Princess Miriam's ultimatum.
"It is painful to a spiritual man," replied the prelate, "to be accessory to
a murder. It is also repugnant to his feelings to deny a beloved niece
anything on which she has set her heart. To avoid such grievous
dilemma, I judge it well that ye both ascend to heaven without further
ceremony."
That night the ascent of Prometheus and Elenko was witnessed by
divers credible persons. The new church was consecrated shortly
afterwards. It was amply stored with relics from the wardrobe of
Prometheus and what remained of the eagle. The damsels of the capital
regained their admirers, and those who had become enamoured of
Prometheus mostly transferred their affections to the Bishop.
Everybody was satisfied except the Princess Miriam, who never ceased

to deplore her indulgence in giving Elenko the chance of first speech
with her uncle.
"If I had been five minutes beforehand with the minx!" she said.

IV
The heaven to which Prometheus and Elenko had ascended was
situated in a sequestered valley of Laconia. A single winding path led
into the glen, which was inhabited only by a few hunters and shepherds,
who still observed the rites of the ancient faith; and sometimes,
deeming but to show kindness to a mortal, refreshed or sheltered a
forlorn and hungry Deity. Saving at the entrance the vale was walled
round by steep cliffs, for the most part waving with trees, but here and
there revealing the naked crag. It was traversed by a silvery stream, in
its windings enclosing Prometheus's and Elenko's cottage, almost as in
an island. The cot, buried in laurel and myrtle, had a garden where fig
and mulberry, grape and almond, ripened in their season. A few goats
browsed on the long grass, and yielded their milk to the household.
Bread and wine, and flesh when needed, were easily procured from the
neighbours. Beyond necessary furniture, the cottage contained little but
precious scrolls, obtained by Elenko from Athens and the newly
founded city of Constantine. In these, under her guidance, Prometheus
read of matters that never, while he dwelt on Olympus, entered the
imagination of any God.
It is a chief happiness of lovers that each possesses treasures wholly
their own, which they may yet make fully the possession of the other.
These treasures are of divers kinds, beauty, affection, memory, hope.
But never were such treasures of knowledge shared between lovers as
between Prometheus and Elenko. Each possessed immeasurable stores,
hitherto inaccessible to the other. How trifling seemed the mythical lore
which Elenko had gleaned as the minister of Phoebus to that now
imparted by Prometheus! The Titan had seen all, and been a part of all
that he had seen. He had bowed beneath the sceptre of Uranus, he had
witnessed his fall, and marked the ocean crimson with his blood. He

remembered hoary Saturn a brisk active Deity, pushing his way to the
throne of Heaven, and devouring in a trice the stone that now resists his
fangs for millenniums. He had heard the shields of the Corybantes
clash around the infant Zeus; he described to Elenko how one day the
sea had frothed and boiled, and undraped Aphrodite had ascended from
it in the presence of the gazing and applauding amphitheatre of
cloud-cushioned gods. He could depict the personal appearance of
Cybele, and sketch the character of Enceladus. He had instructed Zeus,
as Chiron had instructed Achilles; he remembered Poseidon afraid of
the water, and