his son, Achilles rejoiced in
spirit, and strode with lofty gait along the plain of asphodel.

So one by one the spirits came up, and inquired of Odysseus of their
dear ones at home. Only the soul of Ajax, son of Telamon, stood
sullenly aloof; for between him and Odysseus there was an old quarrel.
After the death of Achilles a dispute arose among the surviving
chieftains for the possession of his armour. It was decided to refer
the matter to the Trojan captives in the camp, and they were asked who
of all the Greeks had done them most harm. They answered in favour of
Odysseus, who accordingly received the armour. Thereupon Ajax fell
into a frenzy of rage, and slew himself. When Odysseus saw him, and
marked his unforgiving mood, he was filled with remorse and pity, and
strove to soften his resentment with gentle words. "Ah! son of
Telamon," he said, "canst thou not forgive me, even here? Sorely the
Argives mourned thee, and heavy was the loss brought on them by thy
rash act. Thou wast a very tower of strength to the host, and we wept
for thee as for a second Achilles. Draw near, great prince, subdue thy
haughty spirit, and speak to me as thou wast wont to speak before the
will of heaven set enmity between us."

Thus earnestly Odysseus pleaded, but there was no reply, and the angry
spirit passed away into the gloom of Erebus.[1]

[Footnote 1: Compare the silence of Dido, "Stories from the AEneid," p.
123.]

II

Odysseus still lingered, hoping yet to have speech with other souls of
heroes who had once rivalled him in valour and wisdom while they dwelt
in the flesh. But he was destined to see another and more awful
vision. Suddenly the pall of darkness which shrouded the secrets of
the nether abyss was lifted, and the whole realm of Hades was exposed
to view. There he saw the place of torment, where great malefactors
atone for their crime, and Minos, the infernal judge, sitting at the
gates, passing sentence, and giving judgment among the shades. Within
appeared the gigantic form of Tityos, stretched at full length along
the ground, and two vultures sat ever at his side, tearing his liver.
This was his punishment for violence offered to Leto, the mother of
Apollo and Artemis. Not far from him appeared Tantalus, plunged up to
the neck in a cool stream; the water lapped against his chin, but he
had not power to drink it, though he was tormented with a burning
thirst. As often as he stooped to drink, the water was swallo