Dor. Crying, dear?
The. Oh, Doris, I have just seen a lovely girl thrown into a chest by her father, and her little baby with her; and he gave the chest to some sailors, and told them, as soon as they were far enough from the shore, to drop it into the water; he meant them to be drowned, poor things.
Dor. Oh, sister, but why? What was it all about? Did you hear?
The. Her father, Acrisius, wanted to keep her from marrying. And, as she was so pretty, he shut her up in an iron room. And--I don't know whether it's true--but they say that Zeus turned himself into gold, and came showering down through the roof, and she caught the gold in her lap,--and it was Zeus all the time. And then her father found out about it--he is a horrid, jealous old man--and he was furious, and thought she had been receiving a lover; and he put her into the chest, the moment the child was born.
Dor. And what did she do then?
The. She never said a word against her own sentence; she was ready to submit: but she pleaded hard for the child's life, and cried, and held him up for his grandfather to see; and there was the sweet babe, that thought no harm, smiling at the waves. I am beginning again, at the mere remembrance of it.
Dor. You make me cry, too. And is it all over?
The. No; the chest has carried them safely so far; it is by Seriphus.
Dor. Then why should we not save them? We can put the
chest into those fishermen's nets, look; and then of course they will be hauled in, and come safe to shore.
The. The very thing. She shall not die; nor the child, sweet treasure!