Good evening.
Stories last longer than men, stones than stories, stars than stones. But even our stars' nights are numbered, and with them will pass this patterned tale to a long-deceased earth.
Nightly, when I wake to think myself beworlded and find myself in heaven, I review the night I woke to think and find myself vice-versa. I'd been long lost, deserted2, down and out in Libya; two decades past I'd overflown3 that country with the bloody4 Gorgon5's head, and every drop that hit the dunes6 had turned to snake -- so I learned later: at twenty years and twenty kilometers high, how could I have known? Now there I was, sea-leveled, forty, parched7 and plucked, every grain in my molted8 sandals raising blisters9, and beleaguered10 by the serpents of my past. It must have been that of all the gods in heaven, the two I'd never got along with put it to me: sandy Ammon, my mother-in-law's pet deity11, who'd first sent Andromeda over the edge, and Sabazius the beer-god, who'd raised the roof in Argos till I raised him a temple. Just then I'd've swapped12 Mycenae for a cold draught13 and a spot of shade to dip it in; I even prayed for the rascals14. Nothing doing. Couldn't think where I'd been or where was headed, lost track of me entirely15, commenced hallucinating, wow. Somewhere back in my flying youth I'd read how to advertise help wanted when you're brought down: I stamped a whopping PERSEUS in the sand, forgot what I was about, writing sets your mind a-tramp; next thing I knew I'd printed PERSEUS LOVES ANDROMED half a kilometer across the dunes. Wound up in a depression with the three last letters; everything before them slipped my mind; not till I added USA was I high enough again to get the message, how I'd confused what I'd set out to clarify. I fried awhile longer on the dune-top, trying to care; I was a dying man: so what if my Mayday had grown through self-advertisement to an amphisbane graffito? But O I was a born reviser, and would die one: as I looked back on what I'd written, a fresh East breeze sprang from the right margin17, behind, where I'd been aiming, and drifted the A I'd come to rest on. I took its cue, erased18 the whole name, got lost in a vipered space between object and verb, went on erasing19, erasing all, talking to myself, crazy man: no more LOVES, no more LOVE, clean the slate21 altogether -- me too, take it off, all of it. But I'd forgot by that time who I was, re-lost in the second space, my first draft's first; I snaked as far as the subject's final S and, frothing, swooned, made myself after that seventh letter a mad dash --
"And that's all you remember?" asked Calyxa.
"That was it, till I woke up here in heaven, in the middle of the story of my life. Would it please you if I kissed your navel once again?"
"Take a chance!" I blushed and did. Here's how it was: some lost time since I'd died as I imagined with my name, I opened eyes upon a couch or altar, a velvet22 gold rectangle with murex-purple cushions, more or less centered in a marble chamber23 that unwound from my left-foot corner in a grand spiral like the triton-shell that Dedalus threaded for Cocalus, once about the bed and out of sight. Upon its walls curved graven scenes in low relief, each half again and more its predecessor's breadth, to the number of seven where the chamber wound from view -- which scenes, when I had come fully24 home to sense, I saw depicted25 alabasterly the several chapters of my youth, most pleasing to a couched eye. The first, no wider than the bed from whose sinistral foot it sprang, showed Mother Dana? brazen-towered by vain Acrisius my grandfather for contraceptive reasons, lest she get the son predestined to destroy et cetera; Granddad himself, with Grandmother Aganippe, stroked horses fondly in the court, unaware27 that up behind them Zeus in golden-showerhood rained in upon their frockless daughter, jackpotting her with me. A pillar divided this mural from the next, as it were on my port quarter: Acrisius had judged Mom's story counterfeit28, called me his twin-brother's bastard29, and set suckler and suckled adrift in a brassbound box; the scene itself was the beach of Cycladean Seriphos: there was young Dictys with his net; he'd fished us in, opened the chest, and stood agape at the sight of sweet-nursing Dana?, in mint condition despite her mal-de-mer. In the background was fairly copied the palace of Dictys's brother, King Polydectes. The third relief, a-beam of and as long as my altar-couch, was set in Samos: twenty years were passed with the fluted32 pillar; back in Seriphos the King lusted33 after Mother, and had rused my rash late-teenhood with a pledge to marry someone else instead if I'd contrive35 to bring him Medusa's head as a wedding gift.
"You're sure it was Zeus and not your uncle up in that tower?" I'd asked Dana? one last time -- for she'd admitted an early defloration by Proetus, Acrisius's twin.
"I was sixteen," she replied, "but I knew a slug from a shower of gold." My father, she reassured36 me, was a lap-deep drench37 of drachmae.
"And you don't want to marry King Polydectes?"
"Small change."
So, banking38 on Dictys to safekeep her, I'd set out for Samos on a tip from half-sister Athene, to learn about life from art: for represented in her temple murals there (and so reditto'd here in mine) were all three Gorgons -- snakehaired, swinetoothed, buzzardwinged, brassclawed -- whereof, as semiSis was pointing out, only the middle one, Medusa, was mortal, decapitable, and petrifacient. Already holding the adamantine sickle40 Hermes had lent me and Athene's polished shield, I stood listening, a handsome auditor41 I was then, to her hard instructions. Sword and shield, she said, would not suffice; one thing depended on another; just as Medusa was prerequisite42 to Mother's rescue, so to kill Medusa required not only the Athenian strategy of indirection but other gear: namely, Hermes's winged sandals to take me to Gorgonsville in far-off Hyperborea, Hades's helmet of invisibility to escape from the snake-girl sisters, and the magic kibisis to stow her head in lest she petrify43 all posthumously44. But these accessories were in the care of Stygian nymphs whose location was known not even to my canny45 sister: only the grim gray Graeae could tell it, and they wouldn't.
My first task, then, clear-cut in the fourth panel, had been to hie me from Samos to Mount Atlas46, where sat the crony trio on their thrones, facing outward back to back and shoulder shoulder in a mean triangle. Some way off from its near vertex (which happened to be between terrible Dino and Pemphredo the stinger), I hid behind a shrub47 of briar to reconnoiter and soon induced, concerning the single eye and tooth they shared, their normal mode of circulation. Right to left things went around, eye before tooth before nothing, in a kind of rhythm, as follows: Pemphredo, say, blind and mute, sat hands in lap while Dino, on her right, wore the eye just long enough to scan her sector48 and Enyo, on her left, the tooth just long enough to say "Nothing." Then with her right hand Pemphredo took the eye from Dino's left, clapped it in place, and scanned, while Dino with her right took tooth from Enyo's left, popped it in to say "Nothing," then passed it on to Pemphredo, who passed the eye around to Enyo, put in the tooth, and said "Nothing." Thus did report follow observation and meditation49 report, except that (as I learned some moments later) at the least alarum any gray lady could summon by a shoulder-tap what either other bore. For, having grasped the cycle, I moved closer in a cautious gyre, keeping ever abaft50 the eye, at the vertex between speaker and meditator51; but when I rustled52 a pebble53 underfoot, then-blank Enyo, her right hand out for the eye from Pemphredo, whacked54 Dino into reverse and fetched the tooth as well! I lunged to her right, Pemphredoward, just as she clapped the organ in; by the time she was toothed to cry "Something!" Pemphredo had eared me at her feet and tapped Enyo for the eye, at the same time reaching right for the her-turn tooth. Dino, unable to reply that she'd returned the tooth to Enyo, swatted back both ways; twice-tapped Enyo got her hands crossed, giving Pemphredo the eye and Dino the tooth; I dived through thrones to the center; all clapped all; eye and tooth flipped55 round in countercircles but could be by none installed before doubly summoned. By deftly56 interposing at a certain moment my right hand between Dino's ditto and Enyo's left I short-stopped eye; no problem then, as Pemphredo made to gum home their grim incisor, simply to over-shoulder her and excise57 it. The panel showed me holding both triumphantly58 aloft while the grieving Graeae thwacked and flopped59 and croaked60 in vain, like crippled herons.
Its Stygian successor in my judgment61 was less successful, artistically62 speaking, for while it curved some thirteen meters round behind my bedhead to the Graeae's eight, both the task and its representation were much simpler: having learned from the furious trio where the Stygian Nymphs abode63 (perforce returning tooth for angry Pemphredo to speak with, but retaining eye by way of insurance against Gray-Lady-bites) it was simply a matter of going there, holdig my dose thus agaist the biserable sbell those girls gave off, ad collectig frob theb the helbet, wallet ad wigged64 saddles.
"What did they smell like?" asked Calyxa.
"Your opposite," I said. "But if, immortal65 that you are, you'd perspired66 through all eternity67 rank sweat here where I ab bost fod of kissig, dor ever washed id all that tibe --"
"I'm twenty-four," Calyxa said, "until next week. That feels okay."
But I couldn't tell her where took place that easy feat68 upon the wall, for just as Lethe's liquid is a general antidote69 to memory, the Styx-girls' stench proved specific against recollection of its source. All Pemphredo said was to shut my eyes and follow my nose, not opening the former till I was obliged to close the latter. No time at all till I had lapped the team of toolwardens there depicted and winged off, don't ask me whence.
"If she hasn't anyone to wash herself for her," primly70 declared Calyxa, "a girl should wash herself herself."
The penultimate panel, on my entire right hand, was most eventful and my favorite. Itself septuple in proportions similar to the whole's of which it was sixth episode, its first scene, Hyperborean, showed me holding aloft the Gorgon's dreadful head, which, catching71 her napping, I'd snuck in shielded to cut from her reflected neck; the second, Hesperidean, my petrifaction72 of inhospitable Atlas; the third, fourth, and fifth, all Joppan, respectively my backhand slaying73 of sea-beast Cetus, threatening Andromeda on the cliff; the post-rescuary nuptials74, held over Cassiopeia's protest, whereat I'd recited to the wedding guests my history thus far; and the splendid battle in the banquet hall when my rival Phineus, who lusted after Andromeda as had Proetus Dana?, broke up the reception; the mural showed me turning into stone with all his company that avuncular75 nepophile. In the heptatych's sixth panelet, climax76 of the climax, back in Seriphos, I had once again called my enemy to my aid, rescuing Mother and ending my tasks by the petrification of taskmaster Polydectes. The seventh represented a mere77 and minor78 mishap79 some time later, at the Larissan track-and-field meet, where a zephyr80 slipped my straight-flung discus into a curve and frisbee'd down to Hades Granddad Acrisius in the stands; it was as overlong for its substance as was its grand counterpart in the whole heptamerous whorl, which for all its meters (thirty-three and then some) showed but my wife and me throned in Argos, surrounded by our gold bright children, a shower of Perseidae.
Daily, hourly, since first waking on my Elysian couch, I reviewed those murals, wondrous81, as faithful to my story and its several characters as if no chiseling82 sculptor83, but Medusa herself, had rendered into veined Parian, from her perch84 in the great sixth panel, our flesh and blood. That image was of the lot most welcome to me: all golden muscle, hard as marble, I stood profiled on the Gorgon's corpse85 in the model glory of twenty years; the magic sandals were strapped86 to just below my calves87; my left knee bent88 to bound me next moment skyward; held back at right mid-thigh was Hermes's falchion, declined from horizontal as were my knee, my penis (see below), and my eyes -- not to meet, through the golden locks that curled from under Hades's helmet, those of Medusa, whose dripping head I held aloft in my left hand. Despite two small departures on the heavenly sculptor's part from classic realism (though I grant it was a moment far from aphrodisiac, he had, I'm certain, undersized my phallus; and Medusa's face, unaccountably, was but for the herpetine coiffure a lovely woman's!), it was a masterpiece among masterpieces, that panel: it it was my eye first fell on when I woke; it it was I was still transfixed by muchwhile later when my radiant nurse-nymph first entered from beyond the seventh mural to kneel smiling at my bedside as if before an altar.
My voice still scratchy from the dunes, I said: "Hello."
She whispered: "Hi," and on my asking who she was, responded: "Calyxa. Your priestess."
"Ah, so. I've been promoted?"
She raised to me brighter eyes than any I remembered having seen on Earth and said enthusiastically: "Here you've always been a god, Perseus. All my life I've worshipped you, right along with Ammon and Sabazius. You can't imagine what it means to me to see and speak to you like this."
I frowned, but touched her cropped dark hair and attempted to recall the circumstances of my death. Calyxa was neither white, like most other nymphs of my acquaintance, cinnamon-dark like Ethiopish Cassiopeia, nor high-chrysal like my handsome widow of panels Six-C through -E and Seven, but sun-browned as a young gymnasiast through her gauzy briefs -- which showed her too to be lean-hipped and -breasted like an adolescent Artemist, as against Andromeda's full-ripe femalehood, say, or the cushy amplitude91 of -- there, my memory, with my manhood, stirred, giving the lie to elsewise-marvelous Six-A.
"Is this Elysium, Calyxa, or Olympus?"
"It's heaven," she replied, brow to my hip90.
I'd never heard, from Athene or the several accounts of fellow-heroes which I'd studied in the past decade, of erections in Elysium, whereas the Olympians seemed as permanently92 tumesced as the mount they dwelt on: I was elevated, then! Still stroking as I considered this rise my nice nymph's nape, I noticed that while the mural began at my bedpost, the spiral it described did not, but curved on in and upward in a golden coil upon the ceiling to a point just above where my head would be if I moved over one headswidth left; when I raised me up to watch whither hot Calyxa now, I saw the same spiral stitched in purple on the bed. And -- miracle of miracles! -- when the sprite sprang nimbly aspread that nether93 spiral and drew to her tanned taut94 tummy dazzled me, I perceived that her very navel, rather than bilobular or quadrantic like the two others I best knew, was itself spiriferate, replicating95 the infinite inward wind both above and below the finite flesh on which my tongue now feast.
Godhood was okay. However, I was twice disturbed to find myself impotent: twice in that, one, I twice tried Calyxa then and there, that "afternoon" (I'd not supposed the sun set on us immortals), and despite or owing to her own uncommon96 expertise97 was twice unmanned; two, it was the second time in as many weeks and women (so it came back to me the second time) I had thus flopped, after never once failing done Andromeda in seven thousand nights-- an alarming prospect98 for the nymphed eternity ahead.
"It doesn't matter," insisted sweet-sweat Calyxa, several times in each of the days and nights that followed. "It's just being with you I love, Perseus; it really is one of my dreams come true."
There was another thing: used as I was, as long and mythic hero, to a fair measure of respect, I was unused to reverence99: I could not make water without my votary's adoring view (I had not known gods pissed like mortals); she literally100 licked clean the plates she fed me back to strength from (not ambrosia101 after all, but dates, figs102, roast lamb, and retsina, as at home) (I insisted she wash them after); licked me clean too, like a cozy103 cat, in lieu of bathing, and toweled me with her hair (too short for the job): sport enough when one was in the sportive mood, as Calyxa seemed more or less continuously to be; a mere embarrassment104 when one was not. Truly I believe she would have reliquaried my stools if I'd allowed her (I hadn't guessed gods shat).
"You divinities take sex too seriously," she chided when I swore at that second slump105. I supposed to her, not unbitterly, that nymphs like herself were accustomed to a rounder rogering from the deities106 they attended, and made clear, perhaps overprotested, that I myself was unused entirely to impotence, could not account for it.
"O, you'll be heavenly once you're aroused, I can see that," she soothed107. Not her fault at all, I assured her; indeed, never since my first nights with Andromeda, so long years past, had I couched so lively, lean, and tight a miss; moreover, Andromeda and I, I fondly recollected108, had begun as equal amateurs and learned love's lore109 together, whereas Calyxa's skill bespoke110 much prior experience . . .
Gaily112 she enjoined113 me from pout114. "Believe it or not, I was a virgin115 until twenty-two." Cheerfully she acknowledged then that all her girlhood she'd so adored myself, Sabazius, and horny Ammon, and had in addition been so preoccupied116 with sports and studies, she'd let no ordinary mortal know her (I'd not heard mortals could lay hands on nymphs); then one evening, as she was sweeping117 out the sheep-god's shrine118 (shrines in heaven? dust on Mount Olympus?), which she ministered along with mine and Beer-Boy's, Ammon himself had appeared and to her great delight had rammed119 her. Thus initiate120, she'd gladly become not merely tender of our three temples but priestess-prostitute as well, holily giving herself, in the honorable tradition of her earthly counterparts, to the truest of our male admirers between tuppings by two-thirds of the deities themselves.
"Sabazius too!" I protested. Ammon I could be purely121 jealous of, despite my old grievance122 concerning his advice to Cassiopeia, for the images I'd seen of him in Joppa showed a fine-fettled fellow with handsome ram's-horns coiling from his swarthy curls. But not only had Sabazius fermented123 no end of trouble for me back in Argos; I winced124 to picture that old priapist a-puff on my neat nymph.
She giggled125. "You think you're impotent! But don't make so much of it, Perseus!" Along with swimming and foot-racing, she candidly126 admitted, she liked few pleasures more than the chains of orgasms Ammon and one or two of her mortal partners could set her catenating. She and Sabazius, on the other hand, made do with beery conversations, burps, and blow-jobs, which, the first being long and friendly, the last short and sweet, pleased her in their way quite as well as Ammon's frisk fierce fucks.
"You worry too much," she told me on the second night, when, flaccid once again, I'd advised her vexedly to forsake127 me and revert128 to Ammonism. "In the first place, I've never stopped being an Ammonite and never will -- or a Sabazian, either, even though neither of them keeps in touch with me any more." I was not, she gently reminded me, the only god in her pantheon; on the other hand, it made fier happy beyond imagine merely to be with me on my altar-couch; to know her deity -- any of her private trinity -- as a "warm human person," "off his pedestal," in her terms. Besides, was I really so na?ve as to equate129 love-making, like a callow lad, with mere prolonged penetration130?
Yes. "I'm a hero!" I indicated with a sweep of my relieved glories, whose first extension she had revealed to me that day. "Virtuoso131 performance is my line of work!"
She removed my dexter hand, it being an article of her creed132, even with deities, to allow no sheepish, merely dutiful clitorizing. "The more you think of sex as a performance," she advised me, "the more you'll suffer stage fright on your opening nights. Just hug up close, now, and fill me in on what I showed you today."
Sigh, I did, curled up behind my wise cute tutor as the temple's great second whorl, to which she'd noonly introduced me, enconched the first. As I'd come to hope and fancy, the Perseid reliefs and my altared view were not coterminous133 there where I sat regnant with Andromeda; a second series -- correspondent to the first in relative proportions, but of grander breadth to fit the scale of their enormous revolution -- commenced just after, at the pillar on that farther wall aligned134 quite with my left-foot bedpost and Calyxa's navel-point.
"You saw how it was," I said: "The kids were grown and restless; Andromeda and I had become different people; our marriage was on the rocks. The kingdom took care of itself; my fame was sure enough -- but I'd lost my shine with my golden locks: twenty years it was since I'd headed Medusa; I was twenty kilos overweight and bored stiff. With half a life to go, I felt fettered135 and coffered as ever by Dana?'s womb, the brassbound chest, Polydectes's tasks. In fact -- please keep your face straight -- I became convinced I was petrifying136, and asked my doctor if it mightn't be the late effects of radiation from Medusa. 'Just aging of the old joints,' the fool declared, correctly, told me to forget about the Gorgon, give up ouzo, get more exercise. But hare-hunts can't hold a candle to monstermachy: I stayed up too late, drank too many, traded shameless on my authority to bore each night a captive audience with the story of my life. 'Change of scene, then,' the doctor ordered: 'bit of a sea-trip, do you oodles.' He even winked137: 'Take the Missus along: second honeymoon138, et cetera.' "
"Sometimes," Calyxa said, "I really wonder about doctors."
"Me too. But I proposed it, and Andromeda said sure right off: park the kids in Argos, sail down to Joppa for a visit with her folks; twenty years since she'd seen Cepheus and Cassiopeia. 'Not quite what I had in mind,' I told her; 'We'll stop off there when the time comes, but let's go the route: drop in on King Dictys in Seriphos, say hello to Samian Athene, run over to Mount Atlas, where I short-circuited the Graeae -- you've never seen Mount Atlas -- then a quick stop at Chemmis on the Nile, where I landed for a drink before I saved your life.' By the way, Calyxa, --" I had unwound to follow with my eye those furled episodes along the wall.
"Please don't stop," she pled, and taking her to mean, despite her policy, the idle handiwork that went with my recital139, I resumed.
"So, it was a battle from the outset, even though I'd dropped Styxnymphsville, Hyperborea, and Hesperia from my itinerary140 to give us an extra week in Joppa and time for a quick look-see at Thessalian Larissa. 'Joppa period,' Andromeda said."
"I think she was being unreasonable," said Calyxa.
I cleared my throat. "Well, now, perhaps it was a bit vain of me to want to retrace141 my good young days; but it wasn't just vanity; no more were my nightly narratives142: somewhere along the way I'd lost something, took a wrong turn, forgot some knack143, I don't know; it seemed to me that if I kept going over it carefully enough I might see the pattern, find the key."
"A little up and to your left," Calyxa whispered. But I was lost now in my story. "Ever since that run-in with your pal31 Sabazius," I said, "things hadn't been the same between Andromeda and me." I told her how the bellied144 beer-god, using his Dionysian alias145, had come bingeing from Naxos into Argos with his new wife Ariadne --
"He told me about her, last time I saw him," Calyxa confessed. "At first I was mad with jealousy146, but he was so happy, and she was sweet. . ."
"Everybody was mad," I said: "the older women especially, drink drink drink, and when I tried to close the bars he talked them into eating their babies till I gave in. Honestly. I'd've held out awhile -- you've got to draw the line somewhere -- but Andromeda claimed it was his fame I couldn't abide147. . ." Truth was, I declared, I did envy the upstart god his enthusiasts148, the more as my own glory had not increased since I'd given up heroism149 for the orderly administration of Argolis; on the other hand, though not a prude, mind, I quite believed in order, measure, self-discipline, and was opposed on principle to indiscriminate housewife orgy, not to mention pedophage. I was no less than Sabazius a son of Zeus, and if no god (owing to Mother's mere mortality), I had the vita of a gold-haired hard-tasked hero, whereas Sabazius so far as I could see did nothing but booze and ball all day. . .
"Better say 'guzzle150 and go down,' " Calyxa said comfortably. She too, she added, had no taste for orgies unless among especially valued friends -- such as, say, (the notion made her stretch), Ammon, Sabazius, and me -- her general policy being to offer herself to others, corporeally151 and otherwise, to the extent of her esteem152 for them. Nevertheless she'd gone along with group-grope, gang-bang, daisy-chain, and other perversions153 for her plump pal's sake, deferring154 her preferences to his -- just as, with Ammon, she smoked hemp155 and humped hind-to, although left to herself, so to speak, she'd choose light palm-wine and Position One more often than not. In both instances, her pleasure in theirs not only gratified her beyond her own preferences (a mere martyr's reward, in her view) but made distinctly pleasurable, just in those circumstances, the acts themselves. In short, she was by no means blind to Sabazius's shortcomings, but they were without effect on her worship of him. "We really used to talk, he and I."
It occurred to me to ask why, in view of the foregoing, she had removed my hand in one previous paragraph and limped me with her laughter in another when I'd asked permission to kiss her navel. Her reply was a quiet, short, and serious kiss that messaged clearly even subtless me. I stirred against her nether cheeks very near to Ammonite erection, shrank from the adjective, re-cupped her, resumed my tale:
"I liked Sabazius okay too," I admitted, "despite the trouble he'd caused me; once I'd agreed to build him a temple to keep the housewives happy, we drained many a goblet157 together Before he moved on. But there was no peace after that with Andromeda: now she claimed I'd given in out of weakness, or to curry158 favor on Olympus: was I pandering159 to public opinion, yielding to the pedophagic protest groups, or kicking over my traces like a foolish forty-year-old? Fame and kingship had changed me, changed me, she declared, and not for the better, et cetera."
"Excuse me for saying so," Calyxa said, "but I don't think I care for Mrs. Perseus. Now watch you back up and defend her."
Well, I did: none of these unpleasant accusations160 but had its truth, as I saw when I wasn't defending myself against them, and its contrary side, as I saw when I was. But one fact was inescapable, however read or rationalized: Perseus the Hero prevailed or perished; Perseus the King had swallowed self-respect and not even compromised with, but yielded to, his adversary161.
"It was all downward after that," I concluded: "squalls and squabbles; flirtations, accusations; relovings and relapses, let's not relive it, you know the story, it's all in that pillar between the last panel yonder," where Andromeda and I shared our loveseat throne ringed by little princelets, "and the one today," in which my scold-faced queen sat throned far right and sullen162 I far left, our grownlings wondering between and a ship making ready in the marble foreground.
"I went weekending once with Ammon down the Nile to Pharos," Calyxa remarked. "We swam a lot. It's the only time I've fucked under water."
"It's not so great, actually, didn't you find?" I asked her in her humor, delving163 at the same time down to recollection. "The natural lubricants get washed off, and it sort of hurts. I knew this sea-nymph once. . ."
"I liked it anyhow," Calyxa said.
Next night, too, we made less progress with each other than with the templed exposition. "If only Medusa had petrified164 just that part!" my priestess sighed -- but would not let me repeat what she declared went without saying, that what fired my bolt like a green recruit's before the issue was fairly joined was not inexperience of artful love but inexperience of novel partners. "You're like some of the holiday tourists we get," she once declared: "bold as brass30 back home but all tinsel and tiptoe here."
When I had been Perseus proper, I told her then, I'd flown the known world over, Hyperborea to Hesperia, yet never heard of tourists to the country of the gods. Part of every morning, afternoon, and evening Calyxa disappeared into the temple's outer whorls with strict instructions, as she said from Zeus, that I was not to follow past whichever mural she'd last laid on me. Where did she go? I asked her now. What do? Was she slipping off to Ammon and Sabazius, or tourist-tupping in my heavenly precinct?
She was not annoyed until I apologized (at once) for my impertinence. "If you're going to be quarrelsome, be quarrelsome: don't take one step forward and two back."
I apologized for my apology, attributing my too-tameness to long years of Andromeda's house-training, and that in turn to her father's domination by Cassiopeia, while at the same time admitting that, as Andromeda herself had charged in the Sabazius affair, a better man would in the first place never --
"Stop that!" Calyxa cried. I did, began to apologize, stopped that, reflected a moment, and then declared her under no obligation to attend me if she found my manner, mind, or manliness165 disappointing; but if she chose to stay she must accept me on my terms -- which for better or worse included (unlike Sabazius's or Ammon's, I daresaid) permitting me to accept her on hers. No drachma but had its other side: Andromeda in my opinion had near henpecked me out of cockhood; but I had learned from her what few men knew, fewer heroes, and no gods: that a woman's a person in her Independent right, to be respected therefor by the goldenest hero in heaven. If my pet priestess was unused to parity166 as was I to novelty, then we had each somewhat to teach the other.
Calyxa sat up and closed me in her lap (these conversations were all postcoitally, anyhow epiclimactically, couched); but all I could get from her was "You, you! You're leaving something out."
"No help for that."
"Those letters, Perseus, that she threw overboard . . ." I groaned167. Had voyage in nautic history, I asked rhetorically, ever begun so crossed as ours whose wreckage168 that day's mural had fixed89 forever? We'd set out when spring gave way to summer, neither of us yielding to the other. Andromeda stormed at me it must be Joppa without sidetrips, or she'd go it unburdened of her had-been hero; I stormed back, If she'd wanted a lackey169 instead of a lord, she should've stuck with her Uncle Phineus. Thus we raged and counterbaited as we cleared the port. I perhapped our problem to be mixed marriage: Argives and Ethiopians were oil and vinegar, I declared, palatable170 when right-proportioned but never truly mixable. Pah, she spat171: all marriages were mixed, a man and a woman; but there was my insufferable ego156 again, proposing three parts Perseus to one Andromeda, when in truth it was her rescue from monstrous172 Cetus had made the reputation I'd grown so purled upon: she had as it were laid her life on the line to make me famous! I replied, not unfairly I think, that even the bards173 who sang our story were wont174 to call her both the cause of my labor175 and its reward -- which was but putting prettily176 (I went on less fairly) that had I by-passed Joppa altogether I'd've spared myself two hard battles (with Cetus and with Phineus's gatecrashers), plus the sustained one of our recent years together, and found me a more congenial princess somewhere else, whereas she'd've been fishfood. That always got to her: she bawled177 back that what I'd freed her from were but the chains in which my forebears caused her to be put (she meant Uncle Poseidon, who'd given Ammon word to cliff her when the jealous Nereids complained to him of Cassiopeia's boast et cetera); she owed me nothing, more especially since I'd manumitted her into the bondage178 of my tyrant179 vanity, a mere bedpartner and accessory to my fame: it was but a matter, in her view, of exchanging shackles180 for shekels, or iron manacles for gold. That always got to me: I stormed back, unfairly now, that even read as I read them the poets were wrong: freeing Mother Dana?, not Andromeda, had been my mission; regaining181 my lost kingdom; resolving, by the death of both, the twinly old feud182 between Acrisius and Proetus, which dated from the womb. To this end Medusa, not fishy183 Cetus, had been my true adversary and chief ally; I hadn't even employed her in the Cetus engagement, to dispatch which wanted but my trusty sickle and a bit of shadow-feinting. In short, the whole Joppan adventure, charming as it was, could be regarded as no more than a couple of sub-panels, as it were, in the mural of my life: an interlude in, indeed a diversion from, my hero-work proper.
"Dana? Dana?!" then had shouted Andromeda. "You should have married your mother!"
Calyxa clucked her tongue. "You two really went at it, didn't you?"
I agreed, my face burning afresh. "That's when she pounced184 upon the brassbound sea-chest on the poop," I said. "We had lots of traveling-bags, but I'd decided185 to do the trip right -- my trip -- and had packed my things in the same old trunk that Granddad had shipped me off in, forty years past. For one thing, I thought Seriphean Dictys would be pleased to see it again, so I'd kept in it all my souvenirs: a piece of the net he'd fished us ashore186 with, the crescent scabbard of Hermes's sickle, couple of rocks from giant Atlas after I'd stoned him, fern-corals from Joppa (I'd laid Medusa's head on seaweed while I skewered187 Cetus), Andromeda's leg-irons, the Larissan discus, and the letters."
"Those letters, Perseus. . ." I was left-flanked on the couch; naughty Calyxa, propped188 on her elbows at my hip, amused herself as I spoke111 by scribing capitals on her forehead with my flopped tool as with an infirm pen. R, S, Something, P: the scramble189 uncials of my name.
"Fan letters, mostly," I said. "Nut mail, con16 letters, speaking invitations, propositions from women I never heard of -- sort of thing every mythic hero gets in each day's post. I swear I didn't save them out of vanity, as she claimed; I almost never answered them."
"Mm."
"It was partly habit, I'm afflicted190 with orderliness, they were even alphabetized, starting with Anonymous191. Partly for amusement, to pick me up when I was feeling down, remind me I'd once got a few things done worth doing. But mainly, I swear, it was for a kind of research, what I mentioned once before: certain letters especially I read and re-read: half a dozen or so from some dotty girl in Chemmis, Egypt. They were billets-doux, I admit it -- but along with the hero-worship was a bright intelligence, a lively style, and a great many detailed192 questions, almost as if she were doing a dissertation193. How many had been the Stygian Nymphs? Had Medusa always been a Gorgon? Was it really her reflection in Athene's shield that saved me from petrifying, or the fact that Medusa had her eyes closed; and if the latter, why'd I need the shield? How was it I'd used the helmet of invisibility only to flee the other Gorgons and not to approach them in the first place? Did everything that saw Medusa turn to stone, or everything Medusa saw? If the former, how explain the sightless seaweed? If the latter, how came it to work when she'd been beheaded? Was my restriction194 to the adamant39 sickle and the shadow-trick in the Cetus episode self-imposed or laid on by Athene, and if the former, was my motive195 to impress Andromeda with skill and valor196 rather than with magic? And if the latter, why? Considering the crooked197 sword, the Graeaean subterfuge198, the rear-view approaches to Medusa and Cetus, the far-darting Hermean sandals, even the trajectory199 of the discus that killed Acrisius, would it be fair to generalize that dodge200 and indirection were my conscious tactics, and, if so, were they characterological or by Athenian directive? Similarly, considering Dana?'s brass tower, the sea-chest, the strapping201 tasks of Polydectes, Dana?'s bondage to him, and Andromeda's manacles on the one hand, and on the other, my conquests of Atlas, Phineus, Polydectes, and the rest by petrification, could not one say that my goal for myself and gift to others was typically release from immobility, and my punishment -- of both my Medusa'd former enemies and my latterly tied-down self -- typically its opposite? O Calyxa, this nameless girl, she had no end of insightful questions! Which I pondered and repondered as I've done these murals, to find if I could their meaning, where they pointed202, what it was I'd lost. One question alone -- whether I felt my post-Medusan years an example of or an exception to the archetypal pattern for heroic adventure-- set me to years of comparative study, to learn what that pattern might be and where upon it I currently was. Thus this endless repetition of my story: as both protagonist203 and author, so to speak, I thought to overtake with understanding my present paragraph as it were by examining my paged past, and thus pointed, proceed serene204 to the future's sentence. My trustiest aid in this endeavor was those seven letters, at once so worshipful and wise; I'd've given much to spend an evening with their author! Hence my fury when Andromeda, herself unhinged by wrath205, tore open the chest-lid just off Hydra206 and threw them to the fish. For the first time in our life, I struck her."
My eyes filled at the double memory; Calyxa curled me in her way until my salt tears filled her navel. Post-swatly, I went on, I took from the chest my only correspondence with Andromeda, love-letters written during my youthful trip to Larissa, and posted them with the others in the Gulf207 of Argolis. Then Andromeda, in a perfect tempest of outrage208, fishfed the entire contents of the chest: shore me of my valiant209 past as a steering210 drover ballocks a bull.
"I could listen all night to the way you talk," Calyxa said.
"We were so busy storming at each other," I went on, "and the crew and galley211 slaves enrapt in our battle royal, none noticed the natural tempest till it struck astern like the fist of a god, as if Father Zeus were counter-punching for smote212 Andromeda. All quarrels went by the board with mast and tiller; we were stove in a trice, sunk and drowned -- all save my wife and me, who, still wrestling with the relatched ruin of my chest, were washed with it the way of its contents. Empty, it floated; our grapple became a grip; the storm passed, the sharks were patient; two days the currents easted us, as in your picture, clutched and quarreling in the Sea of Candia; on the third, as if caught in a repeating dream, we were netted by a fine young fisherman, more the image of my golden youth than my own sons were. He congratulated us on our survival, complimented Andromeda on her brined beauty, introduced himself as Danaus Dictys's son, and home-ported us with the rest of his catch to Seriphos."
Calyxa squeezed me. "When I drew that panel for the sculptor from your sister's sketches213, I was afraid you and Andromeda were embracing over the sea-chest."
Embarrassed, she acknowledged under my amazed interrogation that all the murals in the temple were rendered from her drawings, after careful instructions delivered her from time to time over the years by couriers from Athene. She was not, then, merely maid, minister, and mistress of her deities, their temples, and devotees, but artful chronicler of their careers as well! I refrained from asking whether Sabazius and Ammon were similarly shrined, but praised her artistry to the skies.
"I'm no artist," she demurred214. "Anyhow, I'm not interested in me."
But I would not let her off so modestly; with real appreciation215 I kissed her from crown to sole, which flexily she enjoyed, and pressed her tell me how far the murals went -- for while I myself could predict, I thought, the next couple of panels, my memory of an odd dark passion in the desert just prior to my demise216 was still obscure to me, as was the manner of my death itself.
She shook her head. "Tomorrow, or the next night, maybe, I'll tell you, if you haven't guessed." Her tone grew graver. "What do you think the next panel will be?"
I supposed it would portray217 the famous "sculpture museum" at Seriphos, now the isle's chief tourist attraction, which we foursomed -- Andromeda, Danaus, Dictys, and I -- soon after, in what became the cycled dream's continuation. King Dictys himself was in declining age and health, but overjoyed to review the source and cause of his ascendancy218. Andromeda, unsalted and refreshed, seemed to have lost five years and kilos in the sea; she basked219 in the gallantries of her yet-younger life preserver. The famous statues, of course, were no sculptured likenesses at all, but the stoned originals of Polydectes and his court, fixed forever in their postures220 of insult and abuse which I had countered with the Gorgon's head. There in the center sat the false king himself, still gloating at his declaration that my whole laborious221 adventure had been but his ruse34 for my riddance; that he had never intended to bed any but my gold-girt mother, whom presently he was starving from her sanctuary222 with Dictys in Athene's temple. Those had been his last words: fascinated, I pointed out to my companions that his tongue was still tipped to his teeth to make the theta of Naw AOhnhz, to whose eta he would never come.
"Remarkable223," young Danaus had agreed, and added with a trace of tease in his own teeth-tipped tongue: "If Uncle P. was forty when you froze him, and has been lisping that same theta for twenty years, you and he must be about the same age now."
Andromeda laughed, her first mirth in months; then the two of them went off at smart Danaus's suggestion to find something less boring to look at than his petrified progenitors224. Dictys and I watched them go, my wife merrily accepting her escort's elbow, and then went round the remaining figures pensively225 summoning names and patronymics from that glorious morning for half the afternoon. Returning at last to the now-cool shadow of Polydectes, we sipped226 from silver beakers of Hippocrene and traded troubles.
"I can't manage the boy," Dictys said; "it's because he never had a mother, and I was too busy running the government to be a proper father."
I sympathized, reflecting on my own son's growing rebellion, and asked who was Dictys's queen; at his hem1 and haw I dropped the subject, inferring with some satisfaction that young Danaus was illicit227. He suggested we ought to interrupt their tête-à-tête; but I asked for more wine instead, and two beakers later was confiding228 to him my domestic problems and my conviction I was petrifying.'
Dictys shook his head. "Just ossifying229, like the rest of us." Too bad about Andromeda, he said; he was just as pleased never to have wed26 the only woman he'd ever loved, seeing how seldom the sentiment withstood the years' attrition. For the rest, there was no help for it, he advised me to resign myself to lovelessness and decline; he'd ship me off to Samos, Joppa, or wherever I wished -- but all voyages, he reminded me, come soon or late to the same dark port.
"Better late, then," said I, and announced to the gathered company at dinner, I was determined230 to resume the retracement of my ancient route. If Andromeda would not retrace it with me. . .
Her eyes flashed. "Joppa, period."
"At least consult Athene," old Dictys implored231 me.
"I will," said I. "Where I did before, in her shrine in Samos."
"Where he learned about life from art," Andromeda mocked me; "for represented in her temple murals there were all three Gorgons -- snakehaired, swinetoothed, blah blah blah. I know it by heart. I'm staying here."
Young Danaus fiddled232 smiling with his flatware. "I've heard it said," he said, "that when you were done with Medusa last time, Athene put her back together again, with a difference: nowadays she turns stone to flesh instead of vice-versa: makes old folks spry again. You and Dad should look her up."
At this impertinence there was a general pause, and general relief when I merely thanked him, level-voiced, for the report. If she declined to go with me, I told Andromeda next day, she must abide in Seriphos under Dictys's chaperonage until my return: I would not have her travel unescorted. She replied she was her own woman, would as she would. Very well, I countered, reminding her however that independence had its limits; that, given our particular tempers and past, the more she became her own woman, the less mine.
"Amen," Andromeda said, a Joppan expression.
"So I went it alone," I said to Calyxa, "and my guess is that tomorrow's mural shows us there in the haE of statues: Danaus grinning, Andromeda and I glaring at each other, Dictys shaking his head, and Polydectes still lisping Naw AOhnhz."
I was mistaken, my artist informed me -- not only about next day's scene (which pillared all I'd just rehearsed) but about the nature of parity between the sexes as well.
"I know," I sighed, mistaking her. "Andromeda was right."
"That's not what I mean!" Calyxa sprang to her nimble knees. "Look at me, for instance: would you call me dependent? I go my own way, lonely or not; that's why I've never married. But don't you get the point?"
"No."
She flipped my flunked233 phallus; "I swear, I'll have to draw you a picture."
Instead, she showed me one, next day: myself in conference already with the hooded234 woman in Athene's temple, beneath the familiar frieze235 of Gorgons, winged Pegasus grazing just outside.
"Remarkable!" I scrutinized236 my companion-in-relief. "The resemblance. . ."
"With the cowl it's hard to tell," Calyxa said; "but if that's Athene, then Athene's the one who's brought me the instructions for all these scenes over the years, and finally brought you here in person from the desert. She's always been very polite to me, but she never explains the pictures."
"I'll be glad to: at first I thought her a fellow-suppliant --"
But Calyxa reminded me of our little rule, explication only after forn. We went to bed early, I did better, fairly entered her, though for less than heroical time and space; I was chided for sighing; she held me between her pretty legs and said: "Aphrodite's a woman and so am I. Does that make me her equal?" Andromeda's fallacy, in her view, was an equivocation237 on the term equality: she Calyxa frankly238 regarded herself as superior in numerous ways to numerous men and women --
"I think you are too."
"Do don't flatter now; I'm serious." Her dark eyes were, past doubt; I'd have moved off-top, to beside her, better to manifest our parity, but she had extraordinary grip.
"I mean, they're mortals, and you're a nymph," I said limply.
"Never mind that." The point was, she asserted, it went without saying, in her opinion, that to say men and women were equal was to say nothing. She herself admired excellence239 wherever she found it; she was far from servile by nature, knew herself to be uncommonly240 intelligent, witty241, healthy, athletical, articulate, brave, and a few other adjectives --
"Pretty," I suggested. "Sexually adroit242. . ."
She stopped my mouth. "But I happen to know men and women quite superior to me in all these things, and not only wouldn't I dream of calling myself their equal, I happen to prefer them to myself and my equals. You reminded me once that you're a mythic hero, but you keep forgetting it yourself. Were you always psychosexually weak, or is that Andromeda's doing?"
Truly I wished to withdraw, and being at least her muscular match, managed to. She grinned and bussed my forearm.
"No man's a mythic hero to his wife," I said. But Calyxa took spirited issue: no woman remained a dream of nymphhood to her husband either, she daresaid, but real excellence in any particular should be excellent even qualified243 by comparison, long familiarity, and non-excellence in other particulars. That permanent relationship was fatal to passion was perhaps inevitable244, and as she preferred to love passionately245 she would never marry; but having been more than once abused by those she loved, she knew for a fact that her admiration246 of their excellence was invulnerable. "Ammon's a real bastard, often as not," she said; "but I'd die for him tomorrow if he asked me too. I'm good, but he's great. Who does Andromeda think she is?"
I'd hear no more such criticism. "My question to Athene," I said, "was Who was I? I made proper sacrifices, prayed she'd appear and counsel me how not to turn to stone. If there was a new Medusa, let a new Perseus be resickled, -shielded, -sandaled, and the rest, to reglorify himself by re-beheading her. It wasn't Mother Dana? wanted rescuing now, but Dana?'s son."
Calyxa snugged247 against me with a kind of fond exasperation248. I went on to recount how, as I'd recounted to Athene my apprehensions249, a hooded young woman had appeared beside me at the altar, whom I took to be a fellow-suppliant until from the corner of my eyes I saw a radiance from hers -- which, however, like all her features, were cowled from view in the temple dusk. And when she said to me, "Your brother was right: there is a New Medusa," I recognized the voice as no mortal's: Athene had come to me, as was her wont, in suppliant's guise250. I reminded her I had no mortal kin20, only scores of divine half-siblings like herself, got by Zeus upon his scores of bedmates.
She touched my arm and softly undeceived me. "Dictys and Dana? were closeted a long while in the Seriphos temple before you rescued them. But think again, Perseus, what Polydectes was saying: it wasn't the theta of Naw AOhnhz, but the sigma of Naw Ajrodithz. He really did lisp, and your mother's shelter was Love, not Wisdom. . ."
In short, she said, young Danaus my rescuer and current rival was half my brother! And fortunate it was -- she went on at once, to check my flabbergasted ire -- King Dictys and my mother had chosen Aphrodite's shrine instead of Athene's for their besieged251 amour, since Athene would have sorely punished them for sacrilege. Such exactly ( I could not get in my outrage edgewise!) had been innocent Medusa's original sin: was I aware of the circumstances of her Gorgonizing?
I surrendered.
"Me too," Calyxa said.
She'd been a pretty young girl, went on the cowled apparition252: a daughter of the sea-god Phorcys and thus kid-sister to the grim Gray Ladies and cousin to the pretty Nereids. She'd been well brought up by her mother Ceto, was in fact as proper a sea-nymph as ever swam: discreet253 of her person, pretty as the April moon, a regular churchgoer and comforter of the drowned. Her only failing, if it could be so called, was a maiden's pride and interest in her budded beauty -- in particular her naturally wavy254 hair, proof against sea-salt and so comely255 withal that it fired the passions of the admiralty-god himself, her Uncle Poseidon. . .
"Uncles, I swear," Calyxa said. "That's three in this story. And two hair-things. I'm glad I'm a crew-cut orphan256."
"She came one morning to this temple, to sacrifice to Athene," Athene went on, oddly referring to herself in third-persons, "and catching sight of her reflection in the goddess's shield, left off her obsequies for a moment to pin up her hair. Next thing she knew, there was a smell of seaweed; wet lips pressed to her neck-nape, and Poseidon put her under. Shocked Athene turned away, Medusa did too, but my, her eyes were fastened on the shield's reflection: as the blue-eyed scallop resists the greedy star, but at length is pried257 and gobbled, so she saw herself shucked and forked by the mussled god. When he was done she redid through her tears her hair, to look more becomingly ravished, and called on Athene to avenge258 her. But that goddess, in her wisdom, punished the victim for the crime. Me -- Medusa she banished259 to chilly260 Hyperborea with her sisters, whom she'd cursed into snakehaired frights; the very sight of them was enough to turn Medusa's suitors to stone when they approached her. It was a perfectly261 dreadful time."
"Just a minute," I interrupted.
"I was wondering too," Calyxa said.
"I know," said my sister's surrogate. "But Medusa didn't, back then. There were no mirrors, you see, in their stony262 cave, and her swinetoothed sisters could only grunt263. After a few years of seeing her would-be boyfriends freeze in their tracks when she made eyes at them, she decided that if she was ever to have a lover she'd have to pretend in the cave what had been no pretense264 in the temple: not to know he was approaching. One day the seagulls on the statues of her bouldered beaux told her that Perseus himself was winging herward, a golden dream; she lulled265 her sisters to sleep with a snake-charm song she'd learned and then feigned266 sleep herself. Softly he crept up behind; her whole body glowed; his hand, strong as Poseidon's, grasped her hair above the nape. Her eyes still closed, she turned her neck to take his kiss. . ."
"O wow," Calyxa said. "Do you know what I think?"
"I know what I felt," said I. "But how was I to know?"
"I wish I'd known," I said shamefaced to the hooded one, who replied it was no matter: if she'd known herself to be as Gorgon as her sisters, Medusa would have begged to have her head cut off. In any case, when the Perseid tasks were done and the hero's gear returned (except the crescent scabbard, given Perseus as a souvenir, and the Graeae's eye, which unfortunately he'd dropped into Lake Triton on his Libyan overflight), Hermes had kept the adamantine sickle, restored their tooth to the aggrieved267 Graeae, and forwarded the helmet, sandals, and kibisis to the Stygian Nymphs; Athene retrieved268 her bright shield and affixed269 to its boss the Gorgon's scalp.
"Then there's no New Medusa? You said there was."
"There is," she said. "Athene reckoned she'd punished the girl nearly enough, so she rejoined her head to her body, revived her, and restored her original appearance. What's more, as a kind of compensation, she allows her some freedom of motion and took away her sculpting270 glance for the most part, as long as she abides271 by certain strict conditions. . ."
"Never mind those," I said. "Can she unstone me before I'm too far gone?"
The girl hesitated. "Perhaps. Under certain very strict conditions. . ."
But I would none of reservations and conditions; begged only to be outfitted272 as before and directed how to head off my recapped adversary. I paced about the temple, impatient to be off; already I felt younger, more Perseus than I'd been in a dozen years. No good her telling me things had changed; I was a new man; only regird me with shield and sickle, it was a decade's petrifaction in myself I'd cut off first, then Medusa's head to melt away another, then upstart Danaus's and confront Andromeda with a better Perseus than had first unscarped her.
"That's really what you want?" the hooded lady asked then, and simultaneously273 later Calyxa: "That's really what you wanted?"
I yessed both; let there be no talk of past past capture, I was growing younger by the moment in both temples, hers with anticipation274, mine with recapitulation.
Very well, then, said my coiffed counselor275: she'd advise me as before. But the case was truly altered, and so must be both my equipage and my address. From beneath her mantle276 she produced a golden dagger277 the length and straightness of my phallus fairly drawn278. I was dismayed, for what might never lose in love would never win in war.
"No adamantine sickle?"
"Just this," she said, "and your bare hands."
"I like your bare hands," Calyxa said. "But I see your point."
The point was, I was told, I must proceed this time with neither armor nor disguise. Why did I imagine Hades himself no longer used the helmet of his youth, if not that not it nor any other charm could work invisibility once one passed a certain point of fame? As for the polished shield, it itself was changed, aegissed with the former Gorgon's former power: hence its absence from the temple, lest self-reflection petrify its beholders.
"Magic wallet?" I asked, heartsunk.
"That may be useful," she said. "Not to put the New Medusa's head in, since you're not to cut it off --"
"Not cut it off!" But then I remembered and remarked that her deGorgonization made the kibisis unneeded. "All she has to do is look at me, then, and I'm twenty again? Or is it whoever looks at her? I was asked that question about the old Medusa, in a letter from a girl in Chemmis, Egypt --"
"It's not that simple, Perseus," my advisor279 warned, and my priestess: "You didn't answer the question."
Nor did she, I said, except to say that the New Medusa's probationary sti
收听单词发音 |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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overflown
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| v.溢出，淹没( overflow的过去分词 )；充满；挤满了人；扩展出界，过度延伸 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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gorgon
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| n.丑陋女人，蛇发女怪 | |
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dunes
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| 沙丘( dune的名词复数 ) | |
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parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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molted
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| v.换羽，脱毛( molt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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blisters
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| n.水疱( blister的名词复数 )；水肿；气泡 | |
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beleaguered
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| adj.受到围困[围攻]的；包围的v.围攻( beleaguer的过去式和过去分词)；困扰；骚扰 | |
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deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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swapped
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| 交换（工作）( swap的过去式和过去分词 )； 用…替换，把…换成，掉换（过来） | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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17
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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18
erased
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| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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19
erasing
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| v.擦掉( erase的现在分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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20
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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21
slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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22
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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23
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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24
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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25
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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26
wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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27
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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28
counterfeit
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| vt.伪造，仿造；adj.伪造的，假冒的 | |
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29
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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30
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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31
pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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32
fluted
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| a.有凹槽的 | |
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33
lusted
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| 贪求（lust的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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34
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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35
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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36
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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37
drench
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| v.使淋透，使湿透 | |
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38
banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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39
adamant
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| adj.坚硬的，固执的 | |
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40
sickle
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| n.镰刀 | |
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41
auditor
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| n.审计员，旁听着 | |
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42
prerequisite
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| n.先决条件；adj.作为前提的，必备的 | |
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43
petrify
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| vt.使发呆；使…变成化石 | |
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44
posthumously
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| adv.于死后，于身后；于著作者死后出版地 | |
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45
canny
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| adj.谨慎的，节俭的 | |
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46
atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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47
shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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48
sector
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| n.部门，部分；防御地段，防区；扇形 | |
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49
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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50
abaft
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| prep.在…之后；adv.在船尾，向船尾 | |
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51
meditator
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| 沉思者，冥想者 | |
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52
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
pebble
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| n.卵石，小圆石 | |
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54
whacked
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| a.精疲力尽的 | |
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55
flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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56
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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57
excise
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| n.(国产)货物税；vt.切除，删去 | |
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58
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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59
flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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60
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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61
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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62
artistically
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| adv.艺术性地 | |
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63
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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64
wigged
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| adj.戴假发的 | |
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65
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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66
perspired
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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68
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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69
antidote
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| n.解毒药，解毒剂 | |
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70
primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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71
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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72
petrifaction
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| n.石化，化石；吓呆；惊呆 | |
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73
slaying
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| 杀戮。 | |
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74
nuptials
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| n.婚礼；婚礼( nuptial的名词复数 ) | |
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75
avuncular
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| adj.叔伯般的，慈祥的 | |
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76
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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77
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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78
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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79
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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80
zephyr
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| n.和风，微风 | |
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81
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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82
chiseling
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| v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的现在分词 ) | |
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83
sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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84
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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85
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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86
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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87
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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88
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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89
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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90
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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91
amplitude
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| n.广大；充足；振幅 | |
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92
permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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93
nether
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| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
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94
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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95
replicating
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| 复制( replicate的现在分词 )； 重复； 再造； 再生 | |
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96
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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97
expertise
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| n.专门知识(或技能等)，专长 | |
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98
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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99
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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100
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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101
ambrosia
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| n.神的食物；蜂食 | |
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102
figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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103
cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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104
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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105
slump
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| n.暴跌，意气消沉，（土地）下沉；vi.猛然掉落，坍塌，大幅度下跌 | |
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106
deities
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| n.神，女神( deity的名词复数 )；神祗；神灵；神明 | |
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107
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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108
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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110
bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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111
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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112
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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113
enjoined
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| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
pout
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| v.撅嘴；绷脸；n.撅嘴；生气，不高兴 | |
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115
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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116
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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117
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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118
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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119
rammed
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| v.夯实（土等）( ram的过去式和过去分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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120
initiate
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| vt.开始，创始，发动；启蒙，使入门；引入 | |
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121
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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122
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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123
fermented
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| v.（使）发酵( ferment的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
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124
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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126
candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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127
forsake
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| vt.遗弃，抛弃；舍弃，放弃 | |
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128
revert
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| v.恢复，复归，回到 | |
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129
equate
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| v.同等看待，使相等 | |
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130
penetration
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| n.穿透，穿人，渗透 | |
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131
virtuoso
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| n.精于某种艺术或乐器的专家，行家里手 | |
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132
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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133
coterminous
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| adj.毗连的，有共同边界的 | |
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134
aligned
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| adj.对齐的，均衡的 | |
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135
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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136
petrifying
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| v.吓呆，使麻木( petrify的现在分词 )；使吓呆，使惊呆；僵化 | |
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137
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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138
honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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139
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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140
itinerary
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| n.行程表，旅行路线；旅行计划 | |
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141
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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142
narratives
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| 记叙文( narrative的名词复数 )； 故事； 叙述； 叙述部分 | |
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143
knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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144
bellied
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| adj.有腹的，大肚子的 | |
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145
alias
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| n.化名；别名；adv.又名 | |
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146
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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147
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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148
enthusiasts
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| n.热心人，热衷者( enthusiast的名词复数 ) | |
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149
heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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150
guzzle
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| v.狂饮，暴食 | |
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151
corporeally
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| adv.肉体上，物质上 | |
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152
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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153
perversions
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| n.歪曲( perversion的名词复数 )；变坏；变态心理 | |
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154
deferring
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| v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的现在分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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155
hemp
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| n.大麻；纤维 | |
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156
ego
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| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
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157
goblet
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| n.高脚酒杯 | |
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158
curry
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| n.咖哩粉，咖哩饭菜；v.用咖哩粉调味，用马栉梳，制革 | |
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159
pandering
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| v.迎合（他人的低级趣味或淫欲）( pander的现在分词 )；纵容某人；迁就某事物 | |
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160
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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161
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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162
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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163
delving
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| v.深入探究，钻研( delve的现在分词 ) | |
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164
petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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165
manliness
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| 刚毅 | |
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166
parity
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| n.平价，等价，比价，对等 | |
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167
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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168
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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169
lackey
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| n.侍从；跟班 | |
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170
palatable
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| adj.可口的，美味的；惬意的 | |
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171
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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172
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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173
bards
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| n.诗人( bard的名词复数 ) | |
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174
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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175
labor
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|
| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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176
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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177
bawled
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|
| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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178
bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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179
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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180
shackles
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| 手铐( shackle的名词复数 )； 脚镣； 束缚； 羁绊 | |
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181
regaining
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| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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182
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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183
fishy
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| adj. 值得怀疑的 | |
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184
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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185
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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186
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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187
skewered
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| v.（用串肉扦或类似物）串起，刺穿( skewer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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188
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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189
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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190
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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191
anonymous
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|
| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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192
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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193
dissertation
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| n.（博士学位）论文，学术演讲，专题论文 | |
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194
restriction
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| n.限制，约束 | |
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195
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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196
valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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197
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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198
subterfuge
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| n.诡计；藉口 | |
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199
trajectory
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| n.弹道，轨道 | |
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200
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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201
strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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202
pointed
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|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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203
protagonist
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|
| n.(思想观念的)倡导者；主角，主人公 | |
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204
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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205
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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206
hydra
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| n.水螅；难于根除的祸患 | |
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207
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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208
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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209
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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210
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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211
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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212
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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213
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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214
demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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215
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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216
demise
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|
| n.死亡；v.让渡，遗赠，转让 | |
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217
portray
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| v.描写，描述；画(人物、景象等) | |
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218
ascendancy
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| n.统治权，支配力量 | |
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219
basked
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|
| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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220
postures
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| 姿势( posture的名词复数 )； 看法； 态度； 立场 | |
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221
laborious
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|
| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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222
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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223
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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224
progenitors
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| n.祖先( progenitor的名词复数 )；先驱；前辈；原本 | |
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225
pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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226
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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227
illicit
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| adj.非法的，禁止的，不正当的 | |
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228
confiding
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|
| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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229
ossifying
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| adj.骨化的v.骨化，硬化，使僵化( ossify的现在分词 ) | |
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230
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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231
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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232
fiddled
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| v.伪造( fiddle的过去式和过去分词 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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233
flunked
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|
| v.( flunk的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）（考试、某学科的成绩等）不及格；评定（某人）不及格；（因不及格而） 退学 | |
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234
hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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235
frieze
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| n.(墙上的)横饰带，雕带 | |
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236
scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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237
equivocation
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| n.模棱两可的话，含糊话 | |
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238
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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239
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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240
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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241
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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242
adroit
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| adj.熟练的，灵巧的 | |
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243
qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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244
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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245
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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246
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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247
snugged
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|
| v.整洁的( snug的过去式和过去分词 )；温暖而舒适的；非常舒适的；紧身的 | |
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248
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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249
apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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250
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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251
besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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252
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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253
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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254
wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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255
comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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256
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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257
pried
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| v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的过去式和过去分词 )；撬开 | |
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258
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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259
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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260
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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261
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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262
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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263
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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264
pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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265
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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266
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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267
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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268
retrieved
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| v.取回( retrieve的过去式和过去分词 )；恢复；寻回；检索（储存的信息） | |
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269
affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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270
sculpting
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| 雕刻( sculpt的现在分词 )； 雕塑； 做（头发）； 梳（发式） | |
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271
abides
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| 容忍( abide的第三人称单数 )； 等候； 逗留； 停留 | |
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272
outfitted
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| v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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273
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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274
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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275
counselor
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| n.顾问，法律顾问 | |
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276
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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277
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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278
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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279
advisor
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| n.顾问，指导老师，劝告者 | |
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