Gods and Heroes of Ancient Greece Read online

  And now the two rose upon their wings. The father flew ahead like a bird who guides her tender brood on their first flight from the nest. He beat his wings artfully and with care, so that his son might do likewise, and from time to time glanced back to see how he was succeeding. At first all went well. They passed the island of Samos on their left, then skimmed by Delos and Faros. They saw still other coasts recede and fade, when Icarus, emboldened by the ease of the flight, darted out of his father’s track and steered to higher zones with boyish daring. But the threatened punishment came swift and sure. The powerful rays of the sun melted the wax which held the feathers in place, and before Icarus was even aware of it, his wings dissolved and fell from his shoulders. The unhappy boy tried to fly with his bare arms, but these could not hold the air, and suddenly he plunged headlong through the sky. He wanted to call to his father for help, but before he could open his lips, the blue sea had closed above him. It all happened very quickly. And now Daedalus, looking back, as he did from time to time, no longer saw his son. “Icarus, Icarus,” he called through the empty space. “Where shall I look for you in the regions of air?” At last his troubled, searching eyes glanced downward, and he saw feathers floating on the water. Descending, he laid aside his wings and paced the coast disconsolately, until the waves cast the boy’s body on the sand. And now murdered Talus was avenged. Frantic with sorrow, Daedalus journeyed on to Sicily. The ruler of this great island was King Cocalus, who received Daedalus just as hospitably as Minos of Crete had once done. The work of the artist astonished and delighted the people. For many years one of the sights of that country was an artificial lake he had made, from which a broad river poured into the nearby ocean. On a rocky plateau where there was space for only a few trees and which was so steep that it could never be stormed, he built a city and constructed so narrow and winding a path leading up to it that three or four men sufficed to defend the fortress. King Cocalus chose this invincible stronghold to house his treasures. The third work which Daedalus completed on the island of Sicily was a deep cave. Here he caught the steam of subterranean fires by skillful devices, so that the grotto, usually cold and dank, was as pleasant as a moderately heated room, and the body gradually broke into beneficent sweat without suffering unduly from excessive warmth. He also enlarged Aphrodite’s temple on the promontory of Eryx and dedicated to the goddess a golden honeycomb so artfully wrought that it looked as though the bees themselves had modelled the six-sided cells.

  But now King Minos, from whom Daedalus had secretly fled, learned that he had taken refuge in Sicily and resolved to pursue him with a host of his men. He equipped a vast fleet and travelled from Crete to Agrigentum. Here he landed his troops and sent a messenger to King Cocalus, asking him to return the fugitive. But Cocalus was galled by the demand of this foreign tyrant and brooded how he might destroy him. He pretended to agree to his request, promised to do as he wished, and to this end invited him to a meeting. Minos came and was received with elaborate hospitality. A warm bath was prepared to rest him from the fatigue of his journey, but when he was in the tub, Cocalus had it heated until his guest died in the boiling water. The king of Sicily delivered the body to the Cretans, explaining that the king had slipped in the bath and fallen into the hot water. His men, thereupon, buried Minos near Agrigentum with great pomp and splendor and erected a temple to Aphrodite near his grave.

  Daedalus remained in Sicily and enjoyed the unwavering favor of his host. He attracted many famous masters to him and became the founder of a school of sculptors there. But he himself had felt no happiness since the death of his son Icarus, and while he made the land which had given him refuge serene and radiant by the work of his hands, he passed into a troubled and mournful old age. He died in Sicily, and there he was buried.

  THE STORY OF THE ARGONAUTS

  JASON AND PELIAS

  JASON was the child of Aeson, son of Cretheus. Now Cretheus had founded the city and the kingdom of Iolcus on a bay in the land of Thessaly, and he left it to his son Aeson. But his younger son Pelias usurped the throne, Aeson died, and Jason, his child, was hurried away to Chiron, the centaur, who had reared many boys to greatness. Chiron gave Jason a training befitting a hero. When Pelias was quite old, he was disturbed by a strange oracle which warned him of one who wore but a single shoe. Pelias had been vainly trying to unravel the meaning of these words, when Jason, who had been in Chiron’s care for twenty years, secretly set out for his native land of Iolcus to assert his family right to the throne against Pelias.

  In the manner of the heroes of old, he carried two spears, one for throwing, the other for thrusting. The hide of a panther he had strangled covered his travelling garb, and his uncut hair hung loose over his shoulders. On his journey he came to a broad river and there he saw an old woman who begged him to help her across. It was Hera, the queen of the gods, and the foe of King Pelias. Jason did not recognize her in this disguise, but full of pity lifted her and waded the river with her in his arms. Midway one of his shoes stuck in the mud. Notwithstanding he went on and arrived in the market place of Iolcus just as his uncle Pelias, surrounded by the populace, was making a solemn offering to the sea-god Poseidon. The people marvelled at Jason’s tall beauty and thought that Apollo or Ares had suddenly appeared among them. Then the king, who was offering the sacrifice, also noticed the stranger and saw with horror that only one of his feet was shod. When the holy rites had been performed, he went up to the youth and, hiding his deep concern, asked him his name and his country.

  Jason answered with dauntless bearing but in a gentle voice that he was the son of King Aeson, that he had been reared in Chiron’s cave, and had now come to visit his father’s house. Crafty Pelias listened affably and concealed his alarm. He had his nephew guided through the palace, and with yearning eyes Jason looked on the halls and chambers which had housed him in early childhood. For five days he celebrated his return in joyful feasting with friends and kinsmen. On the sixth, they left the tents which had been put up for the guests and came before King Pelias. Modestly and with due decorum Jason said to his uncle: “You know, O king, that I am the son of the rightful king, and that everything you possess is mine. Yet I shall leave you all the herds of cattle and sheep and all the fields you took from my parents. I shall ask nothing of you but the scepter and the throne which was once my father’s.”

  Pelias bethought himself swiftly. His answer was cordial. “I am willing to fulfill your demands,” he said, “but in return, you must grant me a request and perform a deed in my stead, which well becomes your youth, but which I am too old to accomplish. For a long time, the shade of Phrixus has been haunting my dreams, and what he asks is that I bring peace to his soul by journeying to Colchis, to King Aeetes, and fetching back the fleece of the golden ram. The glory of this quest shall be yours, and when you return with your magnificent prize, you shall have the kingdom and the scepter.”

  THE CAUSE AND THE OUTSET OF THE VOYAGE OF THE ARGONAUTS

  Now the story of the golden fleece was this: Phrixus, the son of Athamas, king of Boeotia, was ill-treated by his stepmother Ino, his father’s concubine. To save him from her plots, his own mother, Nephele, abducted him with the help of Helle, his sister. She set both her children on the back of a winged ram, whose fleece was of pure gold, a gift she had received from the god Hermes. On this magical creature brother and sister rode the air over lands and seas. But the girl became giddy and plunged to her death in the sea, which ever after was called the Sea of Helle, or Hellespont. Phrixus arrived safely in the land of Colchis, on the coast of the Black Sea. Here King Aeetes received him hospitably and married him to one of his daughters. Phrixus sacrificed the ram to Zeus, who had furthered his flight, and presented the fleece to the king. Aeetes, in turn, consecrated it to Ares, nailed it to a tree in a grove sacred to this god, and put it in the care of a monstrous dragon, for an oracle had told him that his very life depended on the possession of the ram’s golden pelt.

  All over the world the fleece wa
s regarded as a priceless treasure, and rumor had long since brought word of it to Greece. Many a hero and prince longed to own it, and so Pelias had not erred when he thought to stir his nephew Jason with the dream of this wonderful prize. And Jason was, indeed, very willing to go. He did not see through his uncle’s plan to let him perish on this venture, but gave his solemn word to accomplish the quest.

  The most famous heroes of Greece were asked to share in this bold undertaking. At the foot of Mount Pelion, under Athene’s direction, the best shipbuilder in Greece constructed a splendid ship of a kind of wood that does not rot in seawater. It had space for fifty oars and was named Argo after its builder Argus, the son of Arestor. It was the first long ship in which the Greeks dared steer out into the open sea. Built into the prow was a piece of wood from the prophetic oak tree of Dodona, a gift from the goddess Athene. The sides of the vessel were adorned with rich carving, yet the ship was so light that the heroes could carry it upon their shoulders for twelve days in succession.

  When the whole was completed and the Argonauts gathered around the ship, they cast lots for the places they were to occupy in it. Jason was to command the entire expedition. Tiphys was the helmsman, Lynceus, the keen-eyed, pilot. In the bow of the ship sat glorious Heracles, in the stern Peleus, the father of Achilles, and Telamon, the father of Ajax the Great. Among the rest of the crew were Castor and Polydeuces, the sons of Zeus, Neleus, the father of Nestor, Admetus, the husband of devout Alcestis, Meleager, who had slain the Calydonian Boar, Orpheus, the sweet singer, Menoetius, the father of Patroclus, Theseus, who later became king of Athens, and his friend Pirithous, Hylas, the younger friend of Heracles, Poseidon’s son Euphemus, and Oileus, the father of Ajax the Less. Jason had consecrated his ship to Poseidon, and before leaving all the heroes made solemn offering and prayer to him and the other gods of the sea.

  When all had taken their places they weighed anchor. The fifty rowers began to ply their oars, which dipped in and out of the sea with a regular rhythm. A favorable wind swelled the sails, and soon the harbor of Iolcus was left behind. Orpheus stirred the courage of the Argonauts with the notes he struck on his lyre and by the compelling sweetness of his voice. Blithely they sped by promontories and islands. But on the second day a storm arose and drove them into the harbor of the island of Lemnos.

  THE ARGONAUTS AT LEMNOS

  On this island, the women, only a year ago, had killed their husbands and, indeed, all the men in the land, because they had brought concubines from Thrace and Aphrodite had roused their wives to jealousy and rage. Hypsipyle had saved only her father, King Thoas, and hidden him in a chest which she entrusted to the sea. Ever since, the women of Lemnos had been in constant fear of an attack from the Thracians, the kinsmen of their rivals, and often turned their frightened eyes toward the open sea. So now when they saw the Argo nearing the coast, they armed themselves from head to foot and rushed out of the gates and down to the shore like a host of Amazons. The heroes were greatly surprised when they saw the strand swarming with armed women and not a single man. In a small boat they dispatched a herald to this curious gathering, and when the women had taken him to their unwedded queen, Hypsipyle, he conveyed in courteous words the Argonauts’ request for hospitable shelter. The queen assembled her women about her in the market place of the city and seated herself on her father’s marble throne. Next to her, leaning on a cane, was her aged nurse, and on each side sat four golden-haired girls of delicate loveliness. After she had informed the gathering of the peaceful intent of the Argonauts, she rose and said: “Dear sisters, we have committed a great crime, and in our madness deprived ourselves of our men. We ought not reject those who would be our friends. On the other hand, we must see to it that they learn nothing of what we have done. Therefore my counsel is that we send food and wine and all else the strangers may need down to their ship, and with this courtesy keep them from our walls.”

  The queen seated herself again, and now the old nurse with much effort raised her nodding head and said: “Send the strangers gifts, by all means. That is well done. But do not forget what awaits you when the Thracians come. And even should a merciful god hold them off, does this mean that you are safe from all ills? Old women like myself have no cause for concern. We shall die before need becomes pressing, before our supplies are exhausted. But how do you younger ones propose to live? Will the oxen place themselves under the yoke unbidden and draw the plough through the fields? Will they harvest the ripened grain in your stead, when summer is over? For you yourselves will not wish to perform these and other galling labors! I advise you not to spurn the protection that offers itself, and which you need. Trust your lands and possessions to these noble-born strangers and let them govern your beautiful city.”

  This counsel found favor with all the women of Lemnos. The queen sent one of the girls seated near her to accompany the herald to the ship and inform the Argonauts of the decision reached by the assembly, and the heroes were pleased with this message. They had no doubt at all that Hypsipyle, after her father’s death, had peacefully succeeded to his throne. Jason slung his crimson mantle, a gift from Athene, over his shoulder and strode toward the city, radiant as a star. When he entered the gates, the women streamed out to meet him in clamorous greeting and were glad of their guest. He, however, kept his eyes upon the ground both from modesty and good breeding and hastened toward the palace. Handmaids flung wide the tall portals for him, and the young woman who had gone to the ship conducted him to her mistress’s chamber. Here he seated himself opposite her in a sumptuous chair. Hypsipyle lowered her smooth white lids, and her virgin cheeks were rose-red with blushes. Shyly she addressed him with flattering words: “Stranger, why did you hesitate to enter our gates? In this city there are no men for you to fear. Our husbands broke faith with us. With Thracian women, whom they captured in wars, they moved into the country of their concubines and took with them their sons and serving-men, while we remained behind—helpless! And so, if it please you, come and be one of our people, and, if you will, rule over your men and over us in my father Thoas’ stead. This country will find favor in your eyes; it is by far the most fruitful island in these seas. You, who have come on ahead, go tell your companions of my offer.”

  These were her words, but what she did not say was that the men had been murdered. Jason replied: “O queen, with thankful hearts we accept the help you are willing to give us, who are in need. As soon as I have told my companions of your offer I shall return to your city, but do you yourself retain your scepter and your island! It is not that I spurn them, but danger and conflicts await me in a far country.”

  He gave the queen his hand in parting and hurried back to the shore. The women soon followed him there in swift chariots laden with many gifts. It was easy for them to persuade the heroes, who had already heard Jason’s report, to enter the city and lodge in their houses. Jason lived in the palace itself, the others here and there. Only Heracles, who despised life among women, remained behind in the ship with a few chosen companions. And now the gaiety of feast and dance surged through the city. The fragrant smoke of offerings floated to the sky, as both the dwellers in the city and their guests paid honor to Hephaestus, the patron god of the island, and to his wife Aphrodite. Departure was put off from day to day, and the heroes would have loitered on indefinitely with their lovely hostesses, had not Heracles come from the ship and gathered them about him without the women’s knowledge.

  “You are a wretched lot!” he told them. “Were there not enough women for you in your own country? Did you have to come here for want of wives? Do you wish to plough the fields of Lemnos like peasants? Why, of course! A god will fetch the fleece for us and lay it at our feet! It would be better if each of us returned to his own country. Let Jason marry Hypsipyle, populate the island of Lemnos with his sons, and ever after listen to the tale of heroic feats performed by others.”

  No one dared raise his eyes to the hero or contradict him. They left the gathering and made ready to depart. Bu
t the women of Lemnos, who guessed their intention, beset them like buzzing bees with pleading and lament. At last, however, they submitted to the men’s decision. Hypsipyle, her eyes full of tears, went apart from the rest, took Jason by the hand and said: “Go, and may the gods grant you and your companions the golden fleece you desire! Should you ever wish to return to us, this island and my father’s scepter await you. But I know very well that you do not plan to come back. Think of me, at least, when you are far away.”

  Jason left the queen filled with admiration for her goodness and poise. He was the first to board the ship, and the others came after him. They loosed the ropes which moored the vessel to the shore, the rowers pulled at their oars, and in a short time the Hellespont was left behind.

  THE ARGONAUTS IN THE LAND OF THE DOLIONES

  Winds from Thrace swept the ship toward the coast of Phrygia, where earthborn giants, untamed savages, lived side by side with the peaceful Doliones on the island of Cyzicus. These giants had six arms, one springing from each massive shoulder, and two on each side. The Doliones were descended from the sea-god, who protected them even against their monstrous neighbors. Their king was devout Cyzicus. When news of the ship and its company of men reached the island, he and his entire people went to meet the Argonauts, received them hospitably, and urged them to anchor their ship in the harbor of their city. For an oracle given long ago bade the king greet the band of divine heroes with kindly words and above all to refrain from fighting them. And so he supplied them with an abundance of wine and slaughtered beasts. He was still a youth, and his beard was just beginning to grow. His young wife, whom he had taken from her father’s house not long before, was awaiting him in the palace, but obedient to the oracle, he stayed to share the strangers’ meal. Then they told him of the aim and the purpose of their quest, and he instructed them what path to take.