raise his snowy head and long white beard above the grey-green waves
of the sea, and lash the white-maned, unbridled, fierce sea-horses
into fury before him. Proteus only--none but Proteus--can tell thee by
what art thou canst win thy bees back once more."

Then Aristaeus with eagerness questioned his mother how he might find
Proteus and gain from him the knowledge that he sought, and Cyrene
answered: "No matter how piteously thou dost entreat him, never, save
by force, wilt thou gain his secret from Proteus. Only if thou canst
chain him by guile as he sleeps and hold fast the chains, undaunted by
the shapes into which he has the power to change himself, wilt thou
win his knowledge from him."

Then Cyrene sprinkled her son with the nectar of the deathless gods,
and in his heart there was born a noble courage and through him a new
life seemed to run.

"Lead me now to Proteus, oh my mother!" he said, and Cyrene left her
throne and led him to the cave where Proteus, herdsman of the seas,
had his dwelling. Behind the seaweed-covered rocks Aristaeus concealed
himself, while the nymph used the fleecy clouds for her covering. And
when Apollo drove his chariot across the high heavens at noon, and all
land and all sea were hot as molten gold, Proteus with his flocks
returned to the shade of his great cave by the sobbing sea, and on its
sandy floor he stretched himself, and soon lay, his limbs all lax and
restful, in the exquisite joy of a dreamless sleep. From behind the
rocks Aristaeus watched him, and when, at length, he saw that Proteus
slept too soundly to wake gently he stepped forward, and on the
sleep-drowsed limbs of Proteus fixed the fetters that made him his
captive. Then, in joy and pride at having been the undoing of the
shepherd of the seas, Aristaeus shouted aloud. And Proteus, awaking,
swiftly turned himself into a wild boar with white tusks that lusted
to thrust themselves into the thighs of Aristaeus. But Aristaeus,
unflinching, kept his firm hold of the chain. Next did he become a
tiger, tawny and velvet black, and fierce to devour. And still
Aristaeus held the chain, and never let his eye fall before the glare
of the beast that sought to devour him. A scaly dragon came next,
breathing out flames, and yet Aristaeus held him. Then came a lion, its
yellow pelt scented with the lust of killing, and while Aristaeus yet
strove against him there came to terrify his listening ears the sound
of fire that lapped up a