eiron watched and smiled.

Then Cheiron leapt up and welcomed them, and kissed them every one, and
set a feast before them, of swine's flesh, and venison, and good wine;
and young Achilles served them, and carried the golden goblet round. And
after supper all the heroes clapped their hands, and called on Orpheus
to sing; but he refused, and said, "How can I, who am the younger, sing
before our ancient host?" So they called on Cheiron to sing, and
Achilles brought him his harp; and he began a wondrous song; a famous
story of old time, of the fight between Centaurs and the Lapithai, which
you may still see carved in stone. He sang how his brothers came to ruin
by their folly, when they were mad with wine; and how they and the
heroes fought, with fists, and teeth, and the goblets from which they
drank; and how they tore up the pine trees in their fury, and hurled
great crags of stone, while the mountains thundered with the battle, and
the land was wasted far and wide; till the Lapithai drove them from
their home in the rich Thessalian plains to the lonely glens of Pindus,
leaving Cheiron all alone. And the heroes praised his song right
heartily; for some of them had helped in that great fight.

Then Orpheus took the lyre, and sang of Chaos, and the making of the
wondrous World, and how all things sprang from Love, who could not live
alone in the Abyss. And as he sang, his voice rose from the cave, above
the crags, and through the tree tops, and the glens of oak and pine. And
the trees bowed their heads when they heard it, and the gray rocks
cracked and rang, and the forest beasts crept near to listen, and the
birds forsook their nests and hovered round. And old Cheiron clapt his
hands together, and beat his hoofs upon the ground, for wonder at that
magic song.

Then Peleus kissed his boy, and wept over him, and they went down to the
ship; and Cheiron came down with them, weeping, and kissed them one by
one, and blest them, and promised to them great renown. And the heroes
wept when they left him, till their great hearts could weep no more; for
he was kind and just and pious, and wiser than all beasts and men. Then
he went up to a cliff, and prayed for them, that they might come home
safe and well; while the heroes rowed away, and watched him standing on
his cliff above the sea, with his great hands raised toward heaven, and
his white locks waving in the wind; and they strained their eyes to
watch him to the last, for the