Tales of the Greek Heroes

by Unknown

  Heracles was furious when he heard what the messenger wanted, and insulted him so grossly in his rage that King Eriginus sent a band of armed men to Thebes demanding that Heracles should be given up to him for punishment. Creon, King of Thebes, was ready to do this, for the Thebans had nothing with which to fight.

  Heracles however gathered together the young men and armed them with the sacred trophies which hung in the temple of Athena. He taught them quickly how to use these weapons, and then led them against the company of men sent by King Eriginus, whom they defeated and drove out of Thebes.

  Full of rage, Eriginus gathered an army and set out to destroy the city, but Heracles ambushed them in a narrow mountain pass and defeated them almost single-handed, killing the king and most of his captains. A quick march over the hills with his band of Theban youths gave Eriginus’s little city into their hands, and the inhabitants were themselves forced to bring tribute each year to Thebes.

  Amphitryon was killed in the battle, but Alcmena found a good second husband at Thebes, and lived there quietly for the rest of her life.

  King Creon was so grateful for what Heracles had done – and so afraid lest he might think of seeking revenge for his willingness to give him up to Eriginus, that he made haste to offer him his daughter Megara in marriage.

  The wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings, and Heracles settled down with every hope of becoming king of Thebes when Creon died.

  So several years passed, and Heracles had three sons whom he adored, and for whose future he planned great things.

  Now, living quietly in Thebes, Heracles did no great deeds of valour, nor did he free Greece from any plagues; and Zeus was troubled, seeing that the Hero was not fitting himself for his great task.

  Hera was troubled also, though for a very different reason.

  ‘What of your oath?’ she cried to Zeus one day. ‘You swore that Eurystheus of Argolis should rule over all the natives of that land, and yet Heracles the greatest of them dwells safely in Thebes, and will soon become king of the city which Cadmus built.’

  Then Zeus answered: ‘Hera, Queen of Olympus, do not be jealous any longer. Fate holds many troubles in store for Heracles, but what good will it do if he lives merely as a captain in Argolis, second only to Eurystheus?’

  ‘I would have him as slave to Eurystheus!’ cried Hera viciously.

  ‘That I will grant,’ answered Zeus. ‘Let him serve that cowardly lord of Argolis, performing ten labours for him, the hardest that can be devised, and if he survives them, then grant him his freedom.’

  ‘I agree to that,’ said Hera, ‘for I will help Eurystheus to choose the tasks which Heracles must perform. But how shall we contrive to bring this servitude about? Force is useless against him, and if Eurystheus tries to make him his slave, Heracles will certainly kill him, come what may.’

  Zeus sighed; then he answered sadly:

  ‘Hera, my Queen, it shall be as you wish. Send madness upon Heracles so that, unknowing what he does, he may commit murder and be driven as an exile from Thebes. Go, see to it!’

  Zeus nodded his head, and as Olympus shook to confirm his words, Hera sped gleefully on her way. But at a word from Zeus, Athena followed quietly to help Heracles as far as possible.

  Now that morning the sons of Heracles and their cousins, the children of Iphicles, were engaged in martial exercises on the plain of Thebes, with other boys and young men of the city.

  Heracles sat on a hillside watching them, his bow on his back and a quiver full of arrows by his side. Suddenly a dark shadow crossed the sun, and a low, evil moaning drew near and seemed to pause above his head. Then Heracles staggered to his feet, his eyes rolling wildly and foam starting from his lips.

  ‘Enemies are upon us!’ he cried. ‘Eurystheus of Argolis comes to take us prisoners and make us his slaves! I will not suffer it! Alone I will save Thebes and protect my beloved children from servitude!’

  In his madness, he fitted an arrow to his bow, aimed and loosed it with such skill that his eldest son sank dead upon the plain. Then, while the boys fled away shrieking with terror, he sent arrow after arrow screaming after them, until all three of his sons lay dead, with two of Iphicles’ as well.

  He would have done worse deeds, but Athena came at this moment, and seeing how quickly and how fatally the madness had worked, she took up a great stone and cast it at Heracles, laying him stunned and insensible on the ground. In this state he was bound and carried to Thebes where, Creon being too old to interfere, Lycus, a pretender to the throne, declared himself king and Heracles banished for murder.

  When the madness had left him Heracles in his misery and despair shut himself up in a dark room and refused to see or speak to anybody. No one dared to come near, until at length King Thestius visited him by command of Zeus, and told him that he must go to Delphi and ask Apollo how he was to atone for the terrible things he had done.

  Then Heracles roused himself, gathered the lion skin about his shoulders, took the club in his hand and departed from Thebes for ever: for now his children were dead, and his wife Megara had died of a broken heart.

  When he came to Delphi, the voice of the oracle spoke to him out of the dark chasm beneath the temple:

  ‘Heracles, son of Zeus, the time has come for you to begin the labours which will make you famous ever more, and which will fit you for the great purpose for which you were born. Go now to Eurystheus, who rules over Argolis, in his high citadel of Tiryns, and serve him faithfully in the tasks which he shall set you, doing him no harm nor striving to wrest the kingdom from him. At the last it may be that Zeus will raise you to Olympus and give you a place among the Immortals.’

  So Heracles set out for Argolis, accompanied only by his nephew Iolaus, the son of Iphicles, who refused to desert him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE BEGINNING OF THE LABOURS

  Are ye the same that in your strength of yore

  Strangled the Nemean lion, from whose roar

  The herdsmen fled as by the Alastor crossed;

  Smote Lerna’s Hydra, smote the Centaur host…

  The boar on Erymanthus: and in Hell

  The Hound Echidna-born, untamable…

  All these and other Labours have I won.

  SOPHOCLES

  Trachiniai (Translated by Gilbert Murray)

  10

  Eurystheus, the cowardly weakling who had become King of Argolis after Amphitryon was banished, lived in the mighty fortress of Tiryns, whose great walls had been built by the Cyclopes, and whose narrow gateway led beneath the Brazen Tower in which Acrisius had kept Danae prisoner.

  He was delighted when Heracles arrived and gave him Apollo’s message.

  ‘Well, you’re a fine great hulking fellow!’ he cried insolently. ‘Be sure that I’ll work you hard, though I doubt whether you’ll be able to perform any of the Labours which I have in store for you. As a beginning, off you go up the valley and over the hills towards Corinth. Halfway there, turn left into the mountains, and bring me back the dead body of the Nemean Lion.’

  Now this Lion had fallen from the moon, and was ravaging the lands all round Nemea. Nobody could kill it, for it was invulnerable, its hide so hard that neither iron nor bronze nor stone could pierce it.

  Heracles set out, and near Nemea he met a shepherd who told him which way to go.

  ‘But you’ve no hope of killing that Lion,’ the shepherd warned him. ‘He has ravaged the land all about his lair, and nobody dares to go near him. Still, I’ll make a sacrifice to Zeus, and perhaps he will at least give you an easy death.’

  ‘Wait thirty days,’ said Heracles shortly, ‘and if I have not returned by then, offer your sacrifice – but not to Zeus – to me, as a dead Hero!’ Then he went on his way, armed with his club, his bow, a quiver full of sharp-tipped arrows, and a great sword by his side.

  For a long while he searched in vain, but at last one evening he discovered the den of the fearsome Lion, which had two entrances and was strewn wit
h the bones of men and cattle.

  Heracles waited near by, and presently the great tawny beast came prowling up the hillside, its mane streaked with the blood of its latest kill and its tongue licking the great bearded chin.

  Setting an arrow to the string, Heracles drew it to his ear and loosed. The swift shaft hummed to its mark, but the sharp point rebounded from the Lion’s flank and fell harmlessly to the ground.

  With a cry of rage, Heracles drew his sword and charged, lunging with all his strength at the Lion’s chest as the huge creature reared up on its hind legs to strike at him with its mighty claws. But the tempered iron bent as if it had been lead, and the Lion, though it fell backwards, then crouched for a spring, roaring horribly.

  Suddenly Heracles remembered the lion which he had slain on Cithaeron, and taking his club in both hands he dealt this one a smashing blow on the head. The Lion stood dazed for a moment, then fled to its lair, where it turned, snarling, to wait for its adversary.

  Realizing that no weapon could kill it, Heracles rushed into the cave with his cloak wrapped round one arm, and seized the Lion round the neck with the other. Then they rolled and wrestled on the ground, over and over, the Lion’s struggles growing ever weaker and weaker, until at last it lay dead, throttled by the mighty arm about its neck. Before it died it made one final effort and bit off one of Heracles’s fingers.

  When the beast was dead, and he had rested and recovered from the battle, Heracles flung the body across his shoulders and strode off towards Tiryns. On the way he found the shepherd getting ready the sacrifice, which he was quite certain would need to be offered to the ghost of the dead hero.

  Heracles laughed when he saw what was happening. ‘I’ll join you in your prayers,’ he cried jovially, ‘but we’ll make them to great Zeus, the giver of victory. You cannot sacrifice to a living man!’

  Then he returned to Tiryns, and flung down the grizzly carcass before Eurystheus, who squeaked with horror and indignation.

  ‘Take the nasty thing away!’ he commanded, ‘and never dare to come into the city again, if you return from any more Labours. But the next one will not be accomplished so easily. Go and kill the Lernean Hydra!’

  The Second Labour was much more dangerous and difficult than the first, for the Hydra was a great serpent, with nine heads, which lived in the marshes of Lerna not far from Argos. It was so venomous that its very breath was deadly and it was the terror of the whole district.

  Accompanied by Iolaus, Heracles drove down to the edge of the marsh in his chariot, and there Athena appeared to him.

  ‘When you draw near to the Hydra’s lair,’ she said, ‘you must make it come out by shooting fiery arrows into the cave. But when you fight, take care to hold your breath, for its very smell is deadly. Remember also that the centre head is immortal!’

  Heracles thanked Athena, and did as she advised. After crossing the marsh and reaching the hillock of firm ground on which the Hydra lived, Heracles bade Iolaus light a fire, and then, tying blazing bundles of grass to his arrows, he shot them into the cave.

  Out came the Hydra, hissing fiercely; and holding his breath, Heracles leapt forward and shattered the nearest head with a blow of his club. But what was his horror and consternation when, from the bleeding neck sprang out two new heads, each as fierce and deadly as the old! To make matters worse, a gigantic crab came scuttling out of the marsh and grabbed Heracles by the foot.

  With a roar of rage, he crushed the crab with a single blow of his club, and shouted to Iolaus to light a torch and come to his assistance. Iolaus obeyed bravely, and as Heracles crushed each head of the Hydra with his club, he burnt and seared the shattered neck so that no new heads could grow from the bleeding stumps.

  When at last the battle was over, Heracles cut off the immortal head with his sword and buried it under a gigantic rock, where doubtless it lies safely to this day. Then, having dipped his arrows in the Hydra’s blood, thus making them deadly poisonous, he returned to his task-master.

  ‘You have cheated!’ cried Eurystheus, when he heard all the story. ‘Iolaus helped you, and your Labours must be performed by you alone. This one does not count, so you have still nine to accomplish. Off you go now, and for the next one bring me the Hind with the Golden Horns!’

  This creature was a wonderful reindeer, sacred to Artemis, who had once seen five of them away in the distant north and capturing four by her fleetness of foot tamed them and harnessed them to her chariot. The fifth Hind wandered free in the hills of Arcadia, by the lovely river Cerynites, and no one dared touch it, knowing that it belonged to Artemis.

  Heracles did not wish to harm this lovely creature and, though it was the swiftest of all deer, he chased it on foot for a whole year. On this quest he journeyed to the land at the back of the north wind, wandered there in the great, sweet-smelling pine forests, and came back into Greece, still pursuing the Hind. At length he overtook it in Arcadia, as it drew near to its usual dwelling-place.

  As he was bringing it towards Tiryns, Artemis, the Immortal Huntress, met him in anger and cried:

  ‘Rash mortal, how dare you seize and carry away my Hind? Surely there is no reason why I should not immediately slay you with one of my golden arrows?’

  Then Heracles answered humbly, telling her that it was not of his own will but at the command of Eurystheus that he was carrying the Cerynitian Hind to Tiryns. Artemis smiled when she heard the story of his quest, and her anger departed from her.

  ‘Go on and show my Hind to your master,’ she said, ‘but be sure that you do it no harm, and that you return it to my sacred grove on the hills above the Cerynitian river – otherwise Eurystheus will feel my anger!’

  Heracles delivered her message faithfully, and Eurystheus lived in terror until the Hind with the Golden Horns had been returned to its Immortal owner.

  ‘Now,’ he said, with a sigh of relief when this was done, ‘bring me the Erymanthian Boar, and bring it alive, in case Apollo makes any fuss about it, as I believe it has something to do with him.’

  This Boar was, indeed, said to be the very one which killed Adonis, the beautiful youth who was the favourite of Aphrodite. She, in a moment of anger, blinded Erymanthus, a mortal son of Apollo, because he saw her bathing, and in revenge Apollo sent the Boar, which gashed Adonis in the thigh, and killed him. When Adonis had died in her arms, Aphrodite wished to be revenged on the Boar, and had it brought before her tightly bound, though indeed it came willingly.

  ‘Vilest of all wild beasts!’ cried Aphrodite, ‘was it indeed you who gashed the thigh of my beautiful Adonis?’

  ‘I did it,’ answered the Boar, ‘but not out of any hatred. For when I saw Adonis, I loved him and ran to kiss him, even as I had seen you do. In my devotion I forgot about my sharp tusks, and one of these it was that wounded him.’

  Hearing this, Aphrodite forgave the Boar, and set it free to wander on Erymanthia, where in time it became so fierce and savage that no one dared go near it, or live on the slopes of the mountain.

  Yet Heracles set out undaunted, and on the way met with a Centaur called Pholus. These Centaurs were men only to the waist, below that they had the body and legs of a horse. Some of them were very wise, for, though not immortal, they lived to a great age; but the wisest of all was Chiron.

  Pholus entertained Heracles hospitably in his cave, setting roast meat before him. But he foolishly opened a jar of wine which Dionysus had left in the cave, and the wild Centaurs who lived near by, attracted by the smell, came crowding round, drank the strong wine, and were so maddened by it that they attacked Heracles. He was forced to shoot several of them with his poisoned arrows, and to drive the rest away. One of them, called Nessus, never forgave Heracles, but swore vengeance upon him, which he carried out in a strange fashion many years later.

  After the battle Pholus picked up one of the arrows, marvelling that so little a thing could kill so great a creature as a Centaur. As he examined it, the arrow slipped from his fingers and pricked him in the f
oot; and the poison of the Hydra on its tip was so strong that he died in a few minutes.

  Heracles grieved sorely when he saw that the kindly Centaur was dead, and buried him with all honour before continuing on his way in search of the Boar, which he caught by chasing it into a deep snow-drift, plunging in after it, and tying its legs firmly together.

  When he arrived at Tiryns with the Boar and flung it down for inspection, Eurystheus was so terrified that he jumped into a large brass pot and hid at the bottom of it, gibbering with fear, until Heracles took the creature away. He flung it into the sea and it swam away to Italy, and its tusks were preserved ever after in the temple of Apollo at Cumae.

  As soon as the coast was clear, Eurystheus emerged from his jar, and sent Heracles off on his next Labour:

  ‘I won’t have any more dangerous animals brought back this time!’ he declared. ‘But I’ve thought of a thoroughly nasty job for you, and one that’s absolutely impossible. Go to King Augeas over at Elis – he has the biggest herd of cattle of any man in Greece, thousands of them. Clean out his stables in a single day; they are rather dirty, as they’ve not been touched for thirty years!’

  Off went Heracles, determined to accomplish this Labour too, however unpleasant and difficult it might be, and after careful examination he hit upon a scheme.

  But first of all he went to King Augeas and, without saying anything about Eurystheus, declared:

  ‘I’ll undertake to clear your cattle-stables, yard and all, in a single day, while your cows are out on the pasture, if you’ll promise to give me a tenth of your herd in payment.’

  Believing that what he offered was quite impossible, Augeas agreed to the bargain and swore solemnly to fulfil his side of it if the task was performed.