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it will lead you again to this spot. Farewell, brave
Theseus."
    So the young man took the end of the silken string in his left hand, and
his gold-hilted sword, ready drawn from its scabbard, in the other, and
trod boldly into the inscrutable labyrinth. How this labyrinth was built
is more than I can tell you. But so cunningly contrived a mizmaze was
never seen in the world, before nor since. There can be nothing else so
intricate, unless it were the brain of a man like Daedalus, who planned
it, or the heart of any ordinary man; which last, to be sure, is ten
times as great a mystery as the labyrinth of Crete. Theseus had not
taken five steps before he lost sight of Ariadne; and in five more his
head was growing dizzy. But still he went on, now creeping through a low
arch, now ascending a flight of steps, now in one crooked passage and
now in another, with here a door opening before him, and there one
banging behind, until it really seemed as if the walls spun round, and
whirled him round along with them. And all the while, through these
hollow avenues, now nearer, now farther off again, resounded the cry of
the Minotaur; and the sound was so fierce, so cruel, so ugly, so like a
bull's roar, and withal so like a human voice, and yet like neither of
them, that the brave heart of Theseus grew sterner and angrier at
every step; for he felt it an insult to the moon and sky, and to our
affectionate and simple Mother Earth, that such a monster should have
the audacity to exist.
    As he passed onward, the clouds gathered over the moon, and the
labyrinth grew so dusky that Theseus could no longer discern the
bewilderment through which he was passing. He would have left quite
lost, and utterly hopeless of ever again walking in a straight path, if,
every little while, he had not been conscious of a gentle twitch at
the silken cord. Then he knew that the tender-hearted Ariadne was still
holding the other end, and that she was fearing for him, and hoping for
him, and giving him just as much of her sympathy as if she were close
by his side. O, indeed, I can assure you, there was a vast deal of
human sympathy running along that slender thread of silk. But still he
followed the dreadful roar of the Minotaur, which now grew louder and
louder, and finally so very loud that Theseus fully expected to come
close upon him, at every new zizgag and wriggle of the path. And at
last, in an open space, at the very center of the labyrinth, he did
discern the hideous creature.
    Sure enough, what an ugly monster it was! Only his horned head belonged
to a bull; and yet, somehow or other, he looked like a bull all over,
preposterously waddling on his hind legs; or, if you happened to view
him in another way, he seemed wholly a man, and all the more monstrous
for being so. And there he was, the wretched thing, with no society, no
companion, no kind of a mate, living only to do mischief, and incapable
of knowing what affection means. Theseus hated him, and shuddered at
him, and yet could not but be sensible of some sort of pity; and all
the more, the uglier and more detestable the creature was. For he kept
striding to and fro, in a solitary frenzy of rage, continually emitting
a hoarse roar, which was oddly mixed up with half-shaped words; and,
after listening a while, Theseus understood that the Minotaur was
saying to himself how miserable he was, and how hungry, and how he hated
everybody, and how he longed to eat up the human race alive.
    Ah! the bull-headed villain! And O, my good little people, you will
perhaps see, one of these days, as I do now, that every human being who
suffers any thing evil to get into his nature, or to remain there, is a
kind of Minotaur, an enemy of his fellow-creatures, and separated from
all good companionship, as this poor monster was.
    Was Theseus afraid? By no means, my dear auditors. What! a hero like
Theseus afraid, Not had the Minotaur had twenty bull-heads instead of
one. Bold as he was, however, I rather fancy that it