All silent sat the wise men and the aged,
they of the Golden Town; cross-legged they sat before their houses
reading from parchments a message of the Muses that they sent long
before.
And the young man cried his message from the Muses.
And they rose up and said: "Thou art not from the Muses. Otherwise
spake they." And they stoned him and he died.
And afterwards they carved his message upon gold; and read it in
their temples on holy days.
When will the Muses rest? When are they weary? They sent
another messenger to the Golden Town. And they gave him a
wand of ivory to carry in his hand with all the beautiful stories of
the world wondrously carved thereon. And only the Muses could
have carved it. "By this," they said, "they shall know that you come
from the Muses."
And he came through the gateway of the Golden Town with the
message he had for its people. And they rose up at once in the
Golden street, they rose from reading the message that they had
carved upon gold. "The last who came," they said, "came with a
wreath of laurels carved out of emeralds, as only the Muses can
carve. You are not from the Muses." And even as they had stoned
the last so also they stoned him. And afterwards they carved his
message on gold and laid it up in their temples.
When will the Muses rest? When are they weary? Even yet once
again they sent a messenger under the gateway into the Golden
Town.
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