by Unknown
Prometheus nodded his head and smiled:
‘You are the Hero of whom I prophesied,’ he said. ‘Your hand shall strike down the Giants and save Olympus from ruin. But that you would come to set me free, I did not know, for a prophet cannot foretell his own future. But come, strike off my fetters and let me girdle my finger with the ring; and in memory of my sufferings I declare that mankind shall ever after wear rings in token of this day.’
Heracles set to work; and while he hacked and twisted at the brazen fetters he told Prometheus of his quest and asked him about the Golden Apples of the Hesperides.
‘They grow on the tree which Mother Earth gave to Hera as a wedding present,’ said Prometheus, ‘and that tree is in a magic garden on the world’s western verge, beyond the mountain on which my brother Atlas stands for ever supporting the starry sky on his shoulders. The dragon Ladon curls round that tree, and in the garden dwell the immortal daughters of Hesperus, the warden of the Evening Star, which is also the Star of the Morning; and he is the son of Atlas. Ask Atlas to assist you: for no mortal may enter that garden without great danger; and he has built a great wall round it that cannot be climbed.’
Many other things Prometheus told to Heracles, so that when his work was ended he went on his way with bowed head, thinking of the greatness and nobility of the mighty Titan, helper of mankind.
Once again Heracles met with many adventures as he traversed the earth on his quest: but there is not time now to tell how he fought with Cycnus the son of Ares, slew him and wounded even the Immortal Warlord himself; nor how in Egypt the cruel King Busiris who sacrificed all strangers came to find himself bound and offered up on his own altar; nor even of his adventures with the King of Ethiopia. But as he traversed Libya on his way to Mount Atlas, his strength was put to the proof in the hardest wrestling match of his whole career. For there dwelt the savage Antaeus, a giant son of Earth, who challenged all strangers to wrestle with him; and when he had killed them with his mighty hands, he used their skulls to decorate the temple of Poseidon. He lived in a cave and slept on the bare earth; and he would rob the lionesses of their cubs and eat them raw for his supper.
Heracles needed no second bidding when Antaeus challenged him to wrestle. He flung off his lion-skin, anointed himself all over with oil, and stood ready. Antaeus did the same, but in place of oil he covered himself from head to foot in dust.
Then they seized hold of one another, arms twisting with arms, bending and swaying backwards and forwards, striving to reach each other’s throat with their clutching fingers. Heracles proved the stronger, and with a mighty effort flung the almost fainting Antaeus to the ground.
But then an amazing thing happened. The moment Antaeus touched the earth all his weariness passed from him, and he sprang to his feet with a shout of triumph, as fresh and strong as at the beginning of the battle.
Astonished, Heracles closed with him once more, and with a great effort flung him to the ground again. Up jumped the young giant with his strength and vigour again renewed, and Heracles exclaimed:
‘A Son of Earth, are you? I might have guessed from whence you drew your strength! Come on again, and this time I’ll see to it that we fight standing: if fall you must, fall upon me, and see what sort of vigour I can impart to you!’
Again they wrestled, and this time Heracles exerted his great strength and lifted Antaeus above his head, and held him there in spite of all his struggles, and did not lower him even when he grew weaker and weaker. But at last he took him in his arms, still careful that not so much as a toe touched the ground, and hugged him to death as a bear might.
Flinging aside the corpse of his cruel foe, Heracles continued on his way, and came soon to the great mountain, the highest in the known world, on top of which stood Atlas the Titan, holding up the sky lest it should sink down again upon the earth as it had done in the beginning of the world.
‘I come to you for help, great Titan,’ cried Heracles when he had climbed to the peak on which Atlas stood. ‘Your brother Prometheus advised me to ask your assistance: I am Heracles, and I come for three of the Golden Apples to deliver to my task-master, Eurystheus of Tiryns, who loads me with labours by command of Immortal Hera.’
‘Heracles, son of Zeus,’ answered Atlas, ‘I was warned long ago of your coming by wise Themis, sister of my Titan father. I will do what you wish if you will perform two great deeds to assist me. While I am away you must take my place and hold the sky upon your shoulders; and before you do this, you must slay the dragon Ladon who guards the tree; for even I may not touch the fruit while he lives.’
Heracles looked down beyond the mountain, towards the Western Ocean, and saw far below him the lovely Garden of the Hesperides. There were the cool glades and the silver leaves of Paradise, and in the midst the great Tree shining with the golden fruit, while three lovely nymphs, the daughters of Hesperus, danced and sang in the dappled sunlight.
Then he saw the Dragon curled about the tree, a monster longer than any he had slain, its scales shining with gold and blue. He drew an arrow from his quiver, fitted it to his bow, and shot with so unerring an aim that it pierced the Dragon’s throat. The creature uncurled from the tree and glided away into the bushes, there to die slowly and strangely, for its tail was still alive several years later when the Argonauts visited the spot.
When Ladon the Dragon had gone, Atlas shifted his mighty burden on to the broad shoulders of Heracles, and stretching himself with a great sigh of relief, he hurried off in the direction of the Garden.
The hours passed slowly for Heracles as he stood there holding up his gigantic burden, and he felt weary and ill at ease as the light faded and the stars began twinkling in his hair. All through the long night he stood there, supporting the sky, and in the morning he could have shouted for joy when he saw Atlas striding up the mountain carrying three Golden Apples in his hand.
But his heart sank suddenly when the Titan stood still at a little distance and looked at him with a cruel gleam in his eyes.
‘Here are the Apples,’ said Atlas. ‘But I will take them to King Eurystheus myself. I have been through great dangers to obtain them, it is only fair that I should have a sufficient respite from my burden. You cannot know what joy it is to walk the earth again, and feel no longer that heavy weight upon my shoulders.’
‘You do indeed deserve your holiday,’ answered Heracles, thinking quickly, ‘and I wish you all joy of it, though I look forward to your return, for this is certainly a very heavy load. But when you set it upon my shoulders, I thought it was to remain there only a few hours, and I paid little attention to how it was placed. Now you, who have supported it so long, must be an expert sky-carrier: can you teach me how to arrange the burden most easily?’
‘I can indeed,’ replied the slow-witted Atlas, ‘you should hold it like this – let me show you.’
He dropped the Golden Apples and, stepping forward eagerly, took the sky on his shoulders once more, explaining as he did so what was the easiest way to hold it up.
Heracles watched carefully: ‘You know,’ he said gravely, ‘you do it so much better than I… I think I’d better leave you to it, and myself take those Golden Apples to Eurystheus. Every man to his own task!’
With that he set off down the mountain, leaving Atlas to lament the loss of his only chance of freedom.
When he reached the sea coast, Heracles took ship for Greece and after a long voyage was landed at Lindos on the island of Rhodes. He was so ravenously hungry after the journey that he killed the first ox he came upon, and roasted a great dinner for himself. But the owner of the ox stood on the lovely hillside where the castle of Lindos stands today, and cursed the stranger for an hour without stopping.
Heracles paid for the ox when he had eaten it. But in after days when the people of Lindos honoured Heracles as an Immortal, they always invoked him with curses instead of prayers in memory of his visit to their land.
Heracles went on his way to Tiryns when his hunger was satis
fied, and delivered the Golden Apples to Eurystheus. That cowardly king was afraid to receive them, in case Hera should take vengeance on him, and said:
‘I’ll make you a present of them. You deserve them after so much trouble! You’ve only one more Labour to perform, and if you return safely from that, I expect you’ll need the Golden Apples!’ He sniggered cruelly, for the final Labour was to be the hardest and most dangerous of all – no less than to descend into the Realm of Hades and bring back Cerberus, the three-headed Hound of Hell.
When Heracles heard this, he turned away in despair, and left Tiryns, still carrying the Golden Apples.
But Zeus again was watching over him, and sent Athena and Hermes to his help. First of all Heracles gave the Apples to the Goddess, who handed them over to Aphrodite to take care of for the time being. But when, later, Athena returned them to the Garden of the Hesperides, she took pity on Atlas and showed him the Gorgon’s Head – and he became the topmost peak of stony Mount Atlas with great thankfulness.
Meanwhile the two Immortals led Heracles to the great cave at Taenarum, not far from Sparta, and down into the gloomy depths of the earth until they came to the Underworld which was bounded by the black River Styx. Here Athena waited, while Hermes went on with Heracles, for it was one of his offices to lead souls down to Hades.
At the River Styx the dark old ferryman, Charon, was waiting with his boat. He was only allowed to ferry dead souls across that stream, and they paid him one coin, called an ‘obol’, which was always placed ready in a dead person’s mouth. He would have refused to take this living passenger, but Heracles scowled at him so fiercely that he did not dare: and he was punished afterwards by Hades for his cowardice.
On the other side Heracles found himself in the grey, twilit land of the dead, where ghosts flitted about, moaning and gibbering.
The first he met was the Gorgon Medusa, and when he saw that terrible shape, he fitted an arrow to his bow; but Hermes reminded him with a smile that she was only a harmless ghost, killed by Perseus.
Heracles saw many terrible sights in the Realm of Hades, for he crossed the Fiery River of Phlegathon and entered Tartarus, the prison where the Titans lay, and where the wicked are punished.
He saw, for example, Ixion on his flaming wheel, the wicked king who had broken faith with Zeus; and Tantalus who stood up to the neck in cool water and yet could not quench his burning thirst since the water went away as soon as he stooped to drink. Also he saw Sisyphus, thief and murderer, whose doom was to roll a stone to the top of a hill down which it always rolled just as he neared the summit; and the daughters of King Danaus who murdered their husbands and had to fill for ever a cask which had a hole in the bottom.
Only one of the souls in torment was Heracles allowed to free; and that was Ascalaphus, who had given Persephone six pomegranate seeds when Hades first carried her down to his kingdom. If she had not eaten these, she could have returned to earth for ever: but since she had eaten in the realm of the dead, she was forced to return there for six months every year. So Demeter in fury placed a heavy stone on top of Ascalaphus; but Heracles was allowed to roll it away, and Ascalaphus was turned into an owl instead.
At last Heracles came to where Hades and Persephone sat in state, and he told them why he was there and begged them to lend him their terrible hound.
‘You may willingly take Cerberus,’ answered Hades, ‘if you can overcome him without the use of weapons.’
So Heracles returned to the bank of the Styx, and Cerberus rushed at him, since he was there to prevent the souls of the dead from leaving the Realm of Hades. Cerberus had three mighty heads with lion-like manes bristling with snakes; and in place of a tail a serpent writhed and hissed. Heracles wrapped his lion-skin about himself, seized hold of the brute and squeezed him hard. Cerberus struggled and tried to bite; but the lion-skin was too tough, and Heracles was too strong. Only the serpent-tail managed to hurt him; but even then Heracles would not let go.
At last Cerberus gave way, and Heracles carried him off in triumph, crossing the Dark River with the help of Hermes and Athena. They led him up the great cavern near Troezen through which Dionysus had brought his mother Semele, and at last they saw the light of day.
To Heracles this was welcome, but when Cerberus beheld the glorious light of the sun, he struggled, and howled dismally, and the white foam flying from his jaws spattered all the grass. From this foam grew the flower called Aconite which gives the deadly poison known as Wolf’s-bane.
Holding his captive firmly, Heracles set out at once for Tiryns. When he arrived there, he strode straight into the citadel, shouting for Eurystheus. And when the King appeared, Heracles cried:
‘My last Labour is achieved! Here is Cerberus!’
He dropped the dog on the ground as he spoke, and it rushed at Eurystheus, barking with all three mouths and hissing with every snake on its three manes.
Eurystheus turned with a scream of terror and leapt into his brass pot, where he was still shrieking with fear when Heracles left Tiryns for the last time, carrying Cerberus in his arms.
Straight back to the Dark River of Styx he went, and placed the terrible Hound of Hell on the gloomy shore. Then he returned to earth rejoicing, his Twelve Labours ended, free at last.
As before, Heracles came up from the Realm of Hades by the great gorge of Dionysus near Troezen; and he was so weary after his Labours that he went to visit his friend Pittheus who was king there.
As he entered the palace he took off his lion-skin and flung it over a chair, where it lay in a most life-like fashion. Presently a crowd of children came into the room laughing and talking. But when they saw the lion-skin they turned and fled, shrieking that there was a lion in the palace.
All except one. Pittheus had a grandson aged about seven, whose name was Theseus. He did not run away: on the contrary, he snatched an axe from one of the guards and attacked the skin furiously, thinking it was a live lion.
Heracles laughed encouragingly: ‘We’ll have you following in my footsteps before long!’ he cried.
‘I could ask for no better fate,’ answered young Theseus stoutly.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE ADVENTURES OF THESEUS
Give me again your empty boon,
Sweet Sleep – the gentle dream
How Theseus ’neath the fickle moon
Upon the Ocean stream
Took me and led me by the hand
To be his Queen in Athens land.
He slew the half-bull Minotaur
In labyrinthine ways.
But, threadless, had he come no more
From out my father’s maze:
Yet I who taught his hands this guile
Am left forlorn on Naxos Isle.
NONNOS
Dionysiaca XLVII (Translated by R. L. G.)
14
The boy whom Heracles met at Troezen was the son of Aegeus, King of Athens, who had married Aethra the daughter of King Pittheus. Aegeus never saw his son as a child, for even before the babe was born, he was forced to return to Athens to fight for his throne against his three brothers who ought really to have been governing with him.
But before he left Troezen he lifted a great rock and placed under it a sword and a pair of sandals:
‘If our child is a boy,’ he said to Aethra, ‘do not tell him who his father is until he can lift this stone. When that time comes, send him to me in Athens for I shall need his help.’
So Theseus was born in Troezen, and grew strong and brave, learning both wisdom and skill at all manly pursuits from his grandfather and his mother. He learnt much from Heracles also during his visit, and determined that when he was old enough he too would spend his life fighting against monsters and savage robbers, of whom there were still plenty in Greece.
It was not until he was eighteen that Theseus was able to lift the stone. When he did, and was told by Aethra that his father was King Aegeus, he buckled on both sword and sandals eagerly and prepared to set out for Athens.
‘Go there in a swift ship,’ begged Aethra. ‘The distance is short, and the dangers few, but overland there are robbers; and your cousins, the fifty sons of Pallas, your father’s youngest brother, will try to kill you so as to secure the rule of Athens for themselves.’
Theseus would not listen to such advice. ‘If there are robbers on the road,’ he said, ‘I must go out of my way to fight and slay them. For that is what Heracles would have done if he were still in Greece.’
For at this time Heracles, having killed his friend Iphitus in a moment of fury had, as a punishment, been sold as a slave to Omphale, a queen in Asia, where he was forced to wear women’s clothes and work at the loom – which was a far worse fate for him and much harder to endure than performing the Twelve Labours for Eurystheus.
So Theseus set out on the road to Athens, determined to clear the way of all evildoers: and he had not far to go before he met the first. A few miles from Troezen, at Epidaurus, where the most beautiful of ancient Greek theatres stands today, lived Periphetes the Clubman. He was lame, but what he lacked in his legs he made up for in the strength of his arms. His only weapon was a mighty club shod with iron, which was death to all passers by – until Theseus wrested it from his hands and paid him out in his own cruel coin.
This was always the method adopted by Theseus, for when he reached the isthmus of Corinth he dealt with Sinis the Pinebender in a similar way. This ruffian accosted Theseus as he approached:
