By this time the other fair woman had drawn near, and she now spoke to the lad.  “I have nothing to promise you,” said she, “save that which you shall win with your own strength.  The road upon which I would lead you is uneven and hard, and climbs many a hill, and descends into many a valley and quagmire.  The views which you will sometimes get from the hilltops are grand and glorious, but the deep valleys are dark, and the ascent from them is toilsome.  Nevertheless, the road leads to the blue mountains of endless fame, which you see far away on the horizon.  They cannot be reached without labor; in fact, there is nothing worth having that must not be won by toil.  If you would have fruits and flowers, you must plant them and care for them; if you would gain the love of your fellow men, you must love them and suffer for them; if you would enjoy the favor of Heaven, you must make yourself worthy of that favor; if you would have eternal fame, you must not scorn the hard road that leads to it.”

Then Hercules saw that this lady, although she was as beautiful as the other, had a countenance pure and gentle, like the sky on a balmy morning in May.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Some call me Labor,” she answered, “but others know me as Virtue.”

Then he turned to the first lady.  “And what is your name?” he asked.

“Some call me Pleasure,” she said, with a bewitching smile, “but I choose to be known as the Joyous and Happy One.”

“Virtue,” said Hercules, “I will take thee as my guide!  The road of labor and honest effort shall be mine, and my heart shall no longer cherish bitterness or discontent.”

And he put his hand into that of Virtue, and entered with her upon the straight and forbidding road which leads to the fair blue mountains on the pale and distant horizon.

ALPHEUS AND ARETHUSA

In Arcadia there is a little mountain stream called Alpheus.  It flows through woods and meadows and among the hills for many miles, and then it sinks beneath the rocks.  Farther down the valley it rises again, and dancing and sparkling, as if in happy chase of something, it hurries onward towards the plain; but soon it hides itself a second time in underground caverns, making its way through rocky tunnels where the light of day has never been.  Then at last it gushes once more from its prison chambers; and, flowing thence with many windings through the fields of Elis, it empties its waters into the sea.

Years ago there was no river Alpheus; the channel through which it flows had not then been hollowed out, and rank grass and tall bending reeds grew thick where now its waters sparkle brightest.  It was then that a huntsman, bearing the name of Alpheus, ranged through the woods, and chased the wild deer among the glades and glens of sweet Arcadia.  Far away by the lonely sea dwelt his fair young wife, and his lovely babe Orsilochus; but dearer than home or wife or babe to Alpheus, was the free life of the huntsman among the mountain solitudes.  For he loved the woods and the blue sky and the singing birds, and the frail flowers upon the hillside; and he longed to live among them always, where his ears could listen to their music, and his eyes look upon their beauty.