never wanders there. To this forest she must go, and there she may find
a refuge. The Daughter of the God gives the woman the fragments of the
broken magic sword, which she has brought with her from the field of
the fight, and bids her go.

"And now, with angry lightnings flashing all around him, comes the
Father of the Gods. Never before has he been shaken by such a storm as
this. His daughter whom he loved more than all the others, has
disobeyed him. Never before has she done anything but that which it was
his will that she should do. Now she has known his will, she has heard
his command, and she has broken it. She stands before him, sorrowful,
but still calm, stern, and placid, and asks what is to be her
punishment. She has brought her doom upon herself, he answers, and now
she must be a war goddess no more, but only a woman. He must kiss her
once, and all the strength and the valor and the pride of the goddess
will be gone. Then she will sink to sleep, and here on this rocky
mountain height she must lie till some man comes and awakes her, and
she must be a woman only and his wife.

"Very dreadful this seems to the poor war goddess, but it is because
she has never been a woman, and does not know much about women. To me
it does not seem dreadful at all. It is much better and sweeter and
nobler, I believe, to be the best that a woman can be than the
strongest and greatest and proudest that a goddess can be. And I hope
you will always remember what we see here in the fire to-night, and if
you ever feel that there is any danger of your being a goddess, or if
anybody ever tells you that you are one, then let somebody kiss you and
make you a woman.

"But to one who has so long been used to wearing armor and riding