When they had been gone a year, Telephassa threw
away her crown, because it chafed her forehead.
"It has given me many a headache," said the poor queen, "and it cannot
cure my heartache."
As fast as their princely robes got torn and tattered, they exchanged
them for such mean attire as ordinary people wore. By and by, they come
to have a wild and homeless aspect; so that you would much sooner have
taken them for a gypsy family than a queen and three princes, and
a young nobleman, who had once a palace for a home, and a train of
servants to do their bidding. The four boys grew up to be tall young
men, with sunburnt faces. Each of them girded on a sword, to defend
themselves against the perils of the way. When the husbandmen, at whose
farmhouses they sought hospitality, needed their assistance in the
harvest field, they gave it willingly; and Queen Telephassa (who had
done no work in her palace, save to braid silk threads with golden ones)
came behind them to bind the sheaves. If payment was offered, they shook
their heads, and only asked for tidings of Europa.
"There are bulls enough in my pasture," the old farmers would reply;
"but I never heard of one like this you tell me of. A snow-white bull
with a little princess on his back! Ho! ho! I ask your pardon, good
folks; but there never such a sight seen hereabouts."
At last, when his upper lip began to have the down on it, Phoenix grew
weary of rambling hither and thither to no purpose. So one day, when
they happened to be passing through a pleasant and solitary tract of
country, he sat himself down on a heap of moss.
"I can go no farther," said Phoenix. "It is a mere foolish waste of
life, to spend it as we do, always wandering up and down, and never
coming to any home at nightfall. Our sister is lost, and never will be
found. She probably perished in the sea; or, to whatever shore the white
bull may have carried her, it is now so many years ago, that there would
be neither love nor acquaintance between us, should we meet again. My
father has forbidden us to return to his palace, so I shall build me a
hut of branches, and dwell here."
"Well, son Phoenix," said Telephassa, sorrowfully, "you have grown to be
a man, and must do as you judge best. But, for my part, I will still go
in quest of my poor child."
"And we three will go along with you!" cried Cadmus and Cilix, and their
faithful friend Thasus.
But, before setting out, they all helped Phoenix to build a habitation.
When completed, it was a sweet rural bower, roofed overhead with an arch
of living boughs. Inside there were two pleasant rooms, one of which
had a soft heap of moss for a bed, while the other was furnished with
a rustic seat or two, curiously fashioned out of the crooked roots of
trees. So comfortable and home-like did it seem, that Telephassa and her
three companions could not help sighing, to think that they must still
roam about the world, instead of spending the remainder of their lives
in some such cheerful abode as they had here built for Phoenix. But,
when they bade him farewell, Phoenix shed tears, and probably regretted
that he was no longer to keep them company.
However, he had fixed upon an admirable place to dwell in. And by and by
there came other people, who chanced to have no homes; and, seeing how
pleasant a spot it was, they built themselves huts in the neighborhood
of Phoenix's habitation. Thus, before many years went by, a city had
grown up there, in the center of which was seen a stately palace of
marble, wherein dwelt Phoenix, clothed in a purple robe, and wearing a
golden crown upon his head. For the inhabitants of the new city, finding
that he had royal blood in his veins, had chosen him to be their king.
The very first decree of state which King Phoenix issued was, that, if a
maiden happened to arrive in the kingdom, mounted on a snow-white bull,
and calling herself Europa, his subjects should treat her with the
greatest kindness and respect, and immediately bring her to the palace.
You may see, by this, that Phoenix's conscience never quite ceased to
trouble him, for giving up the quest of his dear sister, and sitting
himself down to be comfortable, while his mother and her companions went
onward.
But often and often, at the close of a weary day's journey, did
Telephassa and Cadmus, Cilix, and Thasus, remember the pleasant spot
in which they had left Phoenix. It was a sorrowful prospect for these
wanderers, that on the morrow they must again set forth, and that, after
many nightfalls, they would perhaps be no nearer the close of their
toilsome pilgrimage than now. These thoughts made them all melancholy at
times, but appeared to torment Cilix more than the rest of the party. At
length, one morning, when they were taking their staffs in hand to set
out, he thus addressed them:
"My dear mother, and you, good brother Cadmus, and my friend Thasus,
methinks we are like people in a dream. There is no substance in the
life which we are leading. It is such a dreary length of time since the
white bull carried off my sister Europa, that I have quite forgotten
how she looked, and the tones of her voice, and, indeed, almost doubt
whether such a little girl ever lived in the world. And whether she
once lived or no, I am convinced that she no longer survives, and that
therefore it is the merest folly to waste our own lives and happiness
in seeking her. Were we to find her, she would now be a woman grown, and
would look upon us all as strangers. So, to tell you the truth, I have
resolved to take up my abode here; and I entreat you, mother, brother,
and friend, to follow my example."
"Not I, for one," said Telephassa; although the poor queen, firmly as
she spoke, was so travel-worn that she could hardly put her foot to the
ground. "Not I, for one! In the depths of my heart, little Europa is
still the rosy child who ran to gather flowers so many years ago.
She has not grown to womanhood, nor forgotten me. At noon, at night,
journeying onward, sitting down to rest, her childish voice is always
in my ears, calling, 'Mother! mother!' Stop here who may, there is no
repose for me."
"Nor for me," said Cadmus, "while my dear mother pleases to go onward."
And the faithful Thasus, too, was resolved to bear them company. They
remained with Cilix a few days, however, and helped him to build a
rustic bower, resembling the one which they had formerly built for
Phoenix.
When they were bidding him farewell Cilix burst into tears, and told
his mother that it seemed just as melancholy a dream to stay there, in
solitude, as to go onward.
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