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Updated: June 18, 2025
Wait until it is all burned into ashes and smoke, and then I will cut the thread of the child's life. Spin on, sweet Clotho! "Quick as thought, Althea sprang forward, snatched the blazing brand from the hearth, and quenched its flame in a jar of water; and when she knew that not a single spark was left glowing upon it, she locked it safely in a chest where none but she could find it.
The wind now rose again, and the clouds which had vanished began to reassemble in the heavens. As the blue sky was gradually covering, the gigantic figures of Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos became as gradually dimmer and dimmer, and the grasp of Vivian's fearful burden looser and looser. At last the moon was entirely hid, the figures of the Fates vanished, and Mrs.
He was developing a continent; establishing the reign of law, industry, and peace where savagery and the wilderness had held sway for a million years. But it was yesterday that he did this. He is dead now. Already you have half forgotten him. You see we are living a century in a minute. Besides, if Clotho has not spun greatness into your destiny, be sure that it does not matter.
That is, if there were such a thing; and if there were not, the whole matter was so purely accidental as not to admit of any one consideration being in the least degree more or less relevant than another. "Willingly give thyself up to Clotho, allowing her to spin thy thread into whatever things she pleases."
Unversed in the trapper's art, the Clotho courses her game and lives upon the vagrants who wander from one stone to another. Whoso ventures under the slab at night is strangled by the hostess; and the dried-up carcass, instead of being flung to a distance, is hung to the silken wall, as though the Spider wished to make a bogey-house of her home. But this cannot be her aim.
On the rocky slopes in the oliveland, scorched and blistered by the sun, turn over the flat stones, those of a fair size; search, above all, the piles which the shepherds set up for a seat whence to watch the sheep browsing amongst the lavender below. Do not be too easily disheartened: the Clotho is rare; not every spot suits her.
'I dare say you three will get on very well with her, squeaked Megasra. 'You always get on well with people. 'We must remember how very strange things here must appear to her, observed Atropos. 'No one can deny that there are some very disagreeable sights, said Clotho.
Clotho, for this and other lies, Thy pardon I with tears implore; Henceforth I'll take whatever prize Sage Clotho gives, and asks no more. But never let the shears cut off a rose Only the thorns, yet as thou will'st! Let, if thou will'st, the death-shears, sharply close, If thou this single prayer fulfill'st!
Yet to-day,—the wise God knows wherefore,—there comes a sense of brooding fear. I have been too happy—too blessed with friendship, triumph, love. It cannot last. Clotho the Spinner will weary of making my thread of gold and twine in a darker stuff. Everything lovely must pass.
He performed a treason or a court-bow, he told a falsehood as black as Styx, as easily as he paid a compliment or spoke about the weather. He took a mistress, and left her; he betrayed his benefactor, and supported him, or would have murdered him, with the same calmness always, and having no more remorse than Clotho when she weaves the thread, or Lachesis when she cuts it.
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