m. "O my mother," cried Odysseus in deep
distress, "why dost thou mock me thus? Come to my heart, dear mother;
let me hold thee in mine arms once more, and mingle my tears with
thine. Or art thou but the shadow of a shade, a phantom sent by
Persephone to deceive me?"

[Footnote 1: Compare "Stories from the AEneid," p. 24.]

"Persephone deceives thee not," answered the ghost, "but this is the
fashion of mortals when they die. Flesh and bone and sinew are
consumed by the might of fire, but the spirit takes flight and hovers
ever like a winged dream. But make haste and get thee back to the
daylight, and keep all that thou hast seen in memory that thou mayest
tell it to thy wife."

When the spirit of Anticleia was gone, a shadowy throng pressed
forward to the trench, all the ghosts of noble dames, wives and
daughters of princes. And Odysseus kept his place, sword in hand,
suffering them only to drink one by one, that he might question them
and learn their story. There he saw Alcmene, the mother of Hercules,
and Leda, to whose twin sons, Castor and Pollux, a strange destiny was
allotted; for after their death they rose to life again on alternate
days, one lying in the tomb, while the other walked the earth as a
living man. There too was Iphimedeia, mother of the giants Otus and
Ephialtes, who at nine years of age were nine fathoms in height and
nine cubits in breadth. Haughty were they, and presumptuous in their
youth; for they made war on the gods, and piled Ossa on Olympus, and
Pelion on Ossa, that they might scale the sky. But they perished in
their impiety, shot down by the bolts of Apollo's golden bow. Last
came Eriphyle, the false wife, who sold her husband's life for a
glittering bribe.

That dream of fair women melted away and another ghostly band
succeeded, the souls of great captains and mighty men of war. Foremost
among these was seen one of regal port, around whom was gathered a
choice company of veteran warriors, all gored and gashed with recent
wounds. He who seemed their leader stretched out his hands towards
Odysseus with a piteous gesture, and tears such as spirits weep[1]
gushed from his eyes. Instantly Odysseus recognised in that stricken
spirit his great commander Agamemnon, once the proud captain of a
thousand ships, now wandering, forlorn and feeble, with all his glory
faded.

[Footnote 1: "Tears such as _angels_ weep," Milton, "Paradise Lost,"
i. 619.]

"Royal son of Atreus," he said, in a voi