You will remember (what Theseus unfortunately forgot) that his
father, King Aegeus, had enjoined it upon him to hoist sunshiny
sails, instead of black ones, in case he should overcome the
Minotaur, and return victorious. In the joy of their success,
however, and amidst the sports, dancing, and other merriment,
with which these young folks wore away the time, they never
once thought whether their sails were black, white, or rainbow
colored, and, indeed, left it entirely to the mariners whether
they had any sails at all. Thus the vessel returned, like a
raven, with the same sable wings that had wafted her away. But
poor King Aegeus, day after day, infirm as he was, had
clambered to the summit of a cliff that overhung the sea, and
there sat watching for Prince Theseus, homeward bound; and no
sooner did he behold the fatal blackness of the sails, than he
concluded that his dear son, whom he loved so much, and felt so
proud of, had been eaten by the Minotaur. He could not bear the
thought of living any longer; so, first flinging his crown and
sceptre into the sea (useless baubles that they were to him
now), King Aegeus merely stooped forward, and fell headlong
over the cliff, and was drowned, poor soul, in the waves that
foamed at its base!

This was melancholy news for Prince Theseus, who, when he
stepped ashore, found himself king of all the country, whether
he would or no; and such a turn of fortune was enough to make
any young man feel very much out of spirits. However, he sent
for his dear mother to Athens, and, by taking her advice in
matters of state, became a very excellent monarch, and was
greatly beloved by his people.