“Alas!” answered the shepherd, “there is not a scrap of food left in the place, not a house left unplundered. For Sciron has been here.”
“And who is Sciron?” asked Theseus.
“Ah, you must be a stranger indeed! Sciron is the chief of all the robbers. Do you see yonder castle among the mountains? That is where he lives, and thence he issues forth, when he wants food for his gluttony, to plunder and lay waste all the country round. And he is as cruel and savage as he is greedy. Not content with carrying off our cattle and our stores of corn and wine, he seizes men and women, and makes them wait upon him while he feasts; and when the feast is over, he amuses himself by throwing them from a high rock into the sea.”
“Thank you,” said Theseus. “Then I will sup with Sciron.” And off he started for the robber’s castle, leaving the amazed shepherd to think him a madman.
It was a long climb to the castle, which stood on the peak of a high cliff looking down into the sea. Theseus knocked upon the gate with the hilt of his sword, and, when it was opened by a ferocious-looking brigand, announced himself as a stranger who requested hospitality.
“You’ve come to the right place for that!” said the brigand, grimly. “Come with me.”
Theseus followed him into the hall, where broth was being brewed in caldrons, and a fat ox was being roasted whole. The robbers were all about—some preparing the feast, some already carousing, some quarreling over their plunder, some sprawling about the floor. In the midst of all the steam and din sat the chief, a huge and cruel-looking brute, whom Theseus did not need to be told was Sciron.
“So you want hospitality, do you?” asked Sciron. “Very well, as you’re a traveler, and don’t know the ways of the castle, you shall be let off easily. Of course you’ll have to be thrown from the cliff after supper—that’s the rule. But instead of being tortured, you shall only wash my feet for me and wait on me at table. You look as if you understood washing and how things ought to be served. Now, then, get some hot water and begin,” he said, thrusting out a pair of feet which looked as if they had not been touched by water for years.
A grinning robber brought a bowl of hot water. Theseus took it and threw it in the face of Sciron. “That wants washing, too,” said he.
Sciron rushed at him; but Theseus received him at the point of his sword, and the two fought furiously, while the robbers looked on, enjoying the game. Sciron was twice the size and weight of Theseus; but Theseus was the best swordsman in all Greece, and presently had him down.