As she looked upon
their burning a scorching pain went through her. But she went
from the hearth, nevertheless, and into the inner room. There
stood the chest that she had not opened for years. She opened it
now, and out of it she took the billet of wood that had on it the
mark of the burning.
She brought it to the hearth fire. Four times she went to throw
it into the fire, and four times she stayed her hand. The fire
was before her, but it was in her too. She saw the images of her
brothers lying dead, and, saying that he who had slain them
should lose his life, she threw the billet of wood into the fire
of pine knots.
Straightway it caught fire and began to burn. And Althaea cried,
"Let him die, my son, and let naught remain; let all perish with
my brothers, even the kingdom that Oeneus, my husband, founded."
Then she turned away and remained stiffly standing by the hearth,
the life withered up within her. Her daughters came and tried to
draw her away, but they could not--her two daughters, Gorge and
Deianira.
Meleagrus was crouching upon the ground with Atalanta watching
beside him. Now he stood up, and taking her hand he said, "Let me
go with you to the temple of the gods where I shall strive to
make atonement for the deed I have done to-day."
She went with him. But even as they came to the street of the
city a sharp and a burning pain seized upon Meleagrus. More and
more burning it grew, and weaker and weaker he became.
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