Tales of the Greek Heroes

by Unknown

  So when she had instructed them, they drew near to the island, and presently Talos appeared, glowing red with heat, a great rock ready in his hands.

  Then first of all Orpheus played his sweetest strains, so that Talos paused, uncertain, while Medea spoke to him:

  ‘Noble Talos,’ said she, ‘I am Medea the Witch, and I can make you King of the World, and ruler even over the Immortals, if you will make me your Queen.’

  ‘How can you do that?’ rumbled the giant doubtfully.

  ‘Is it not true,’ asked Medea, ‘that you have but one vein in your body, running from neck to heel, and that instead of blood it contains ichor, the immortal liquid which flows in the veins of the Immortals?’

  Talos nodded doubtfully, and Medea went on: ‘Although ichor flows in your vein, you are not immortal: but I, by my magic arts, can make you so, if you will let me land safely with one follower.’

  Talos agreed to this, and Medea landed, with Poeas who was the smallest man among the Argonauts. If Heracles or Theseus had tried to step ashore, Talos might have suspected some plot, but little Poeas could arouse nobody’s suspicion and Talos did not know that he was one of the most skilful archers living – nor that Heracles had lent him his bow and arrows.

  Once on the shore, Poeas wandered away and settled himself quietly out of sight among the rocks. But Medea took a sickle with a blade of brass and began to gather herbs with which to make a magic brew. She mixed them in a cauldron, squeezing the milk-white juices from them, and singing an incantation. Next she stripped off her clothes, bound up her jet-black hair with wreaths of ivy, and bent over the cauldron, chopping the herbs and roots and singing wildly.

  Talos was fascinated by the lovely Witch-wife and her magic brew; he drew nearer and nearer, but still mistrustfully. For in his heel was set a brass nail, like a stopper, which prevented the ichor from escaping, and he feared greatly lest anyone should touch it.

  Medea had soon brewed her magic draught, and now she held it out to Talos in a cup: ‘Drink!’ she said. ‘It is the wine of Immortality!’

  And Talos was so bewitched that he took the cup and drained it. But it brought to him only a great drowsiness so that presently he was reeling about as if drunken, but still determined not to fall asleep lest anyone should draw out the nail.

  Then Poeas rose, fitted an arrow to the bow, and shot with such skill that the arrow struck the nail in Talos’s heel and loosened it so that it fell to the ground and the ichor gushed out.

  At this Talos cried aloud and groped for the nail: but the magic brew was too strong for him, and he could not find it, and presently he lay cold and still – an image of brass, nothing more.

  After this the Argonauts landed in Crete and were entertained lavishly by Deucalion before setting sail for Iolcus, which they reached without further adventures.

  There they parted, though very soon a number of them met again for the adventure of the Calydonian Boar which, at his homecoming, Meleager found was ravaging his land.

  Jason did not live to enjoy the old age of honour which was his due. He died childless and alone, with the curse of Aeetes upon him, for there was no purification which could free him wholly from the guilt of Absyrtus’s murder.

  When he returned to Iolcus he found his old father was dead, and Pelias still ruling there. Jason was content to let him remain as king for the rest of his life, but Medea the Witch wished to be queen. So while Jason was away at Calydon she said to the daughters of Pelias: ‘You know my magic powers: would you like to learn from me how to make your father young again?’

  At first they mistrusted her. So Medea mixed a magic brew in a great cauldron; and she took an old ram, so old it could hardly walk. She killed it, cut it into small pieces, and threw them into the cauldron. And at once there leapt out of it a young lamb, strong and bold and frisky.

  Then the daughters of Pelias doubted her no longer. They took their old father, killed him and cut him up. But when they placed the pieces in the cauldron, Pelias remained as dead as ever – for Medea had not taught them her evil spell.

  But when the people of Iolcus discovered what Medea had done, they banished her and Jason, who wandered away to Corinth. There Jason had a chance of a new kingdom: for the king had only one child, the maiden Glauce.

  ‘You shall marry her and rule this land,’ said the king, ‘if you will send away that evil Witch, Medea.’

  Jason, who had never loved Medea, and by now hated her for her cruelty and wickedness, consented to this, and Medea appeared to agree, but she gave Glauce a magic wedding dress which burned her to death the moment she put it on, and burned her father also who tried to save her.

  Then Medea killed her own and Jason’s two sons, and fled away in a chariot drawn by flying dragons.

  But Jason became an outcast, and in his wanderings he returned to where the old ship Argo was drawn up on the beach.

  ‘You are my only friend,’ he said sadly as he sat down to rest in the shade of the ship. There he fell asleep, and while he slept the front of the ship, grown rotten with age, fell suddenly on his head and killed him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MELEAGER AND ATALANTA

  The maid has vowed e’en such a man to wed

  As in the course her swift feet can outrun,

  But whoso fails herein, his days are done…

  Behold, such mercy Atalanta gives

  To those that long to win her loveliness.

  WILLIAM MORRIS

  The Earthly Paradise

  17

  Meleager the Argonaut bore a charmed life. For when he was but seven days old the Three Fates appeared to his mother Queen Althaea of Calydon as she lay in the big shadowy room of the palace lit only by the flickering fire-light.

  The Fates were the three daughters of Zeus and Themis who presided over the fate of man: and when Althaea saw them, they were busy with the life-thread of her son Meleager.

  One Fate spun the thread of life, and that was Clotho, and she was spinning busily, while Lachesis stood by with her rod to measure it. The third Fate, Atropos, held the shears, and she said to her sisters:

  ‘Why trouble you to spin and measure? As soon as that brand on the hearth yonder is consumed to ashes, I must cut the thread with my shears, and Meleager’s life will be ended!’

  When Althaea heard this, she leapt out of bed, snatched the burning brand from the hearth and put out the flames. Then she hid it away in a secret chest of which she alone possessed the key.

  ‘Now I defy you, Fates!’ she cried. ‘I have but to preserve that brand, and my son will live for ever!’

  Then the Three Sisters smiled at Althaea, and there was a secret knowledge in their eyes which made her afraid. After that, they vanished and only the charred brand in her secret chest remained to prove that she had not dreamed it all.

  Years passed and Meleager grew into a brave young prince and went with Jason and the other Argonauts in quest of the Golden Fleece. On his return to Calydon he found a savage wild boar ravaging the land, destroying all the crops and killing any who tried to withstand it.

  This great Boar, with its wonderful tusks and hide, was not to be slain by one man, and Meleager sent for his friends among the Argonauts, Heracles and Theseus, Peleus and Telamon, Admetus, and Nestor, Jason himself, and several others – but in particular he sent for the maiden huntress Atalanta. For Meleager had fallen in love with her during their voyage on the Argo, and still hoped to persuade her to be his wife, though she had sworn never to marry.

  Atalanta was a princess of Arcadia, but when she was born her father King Iasus of Tegea, disappointed that she was not a boy, had cast her out on to the wild mountain side. Here a she-bear found the baby and brought her up among her own cubs; and Artemis, the Immortal Huntress, trained her in all matters of the chase and allowed her to join with the nymphs who were her followers.

  Now she came eagerly to Calydon, and was welcomed by Meleager and the other Argonauts. But Phexippus and Toxeus, Meleager�
�s uncles, the beloved brothers of Queen Althaea, protested when they saw Atalanta.

  ‘It is an insult,’ they cried, ‘to expect us to go hunting in company with a woman! She should be weaving at her loom, not mixing with men and pretending to skill in the chase!’

  Meleager angrily bade them be silent, and the hunt began, with Atalanta walking at his side – a lovely maiden, simple and boyish, with hair falling to her shoulders, a tunic of skins, and a long bow in her hand.

  ‘How happy will the man be who can call himself your husband!’ sighed Meleager.

  Atalanta blushed and frowned, saying: ‘Never by my free will shall any man do so… But let us give all our thoughts to this fierce Boar which we seek.’

  They had not far to go, for in a wooded dell overhung by willows and dense with smooth sedge and marshy rushes, the Boar was roused. Out he came in a fury, levelling the young trees and bushes as he went, and scattering the dogs to right and left.

  Echion flung a spear, but in his eagerness pinned only the trunk of a maple-tree. Jason hurled his weapon, but it too passed over the Boar’s back. Squealing with rage, while his eyes flashed fire, it rushed upon young Nestor – who would never have lived to fight at Troy if he had not swung himself quickly into a tree out of harm’s way.

  Then Telamon rushed at the Boar with his spear ready, but he tripped over an unseen root, and was barely rescued by Peleus. As he staggered to his feet, the Boar charged: and it would have gone hard with them both if Atalanta had not, with quiet skill and courage, drawn her bowstring and sent an arrow whizzing into the Boar’s head close to its ear. Yet even her skill could not send an arrow right to the brain, so hard was the creature’s skin.

  There was no one so delighted as Meleager: ‘See!’ he cried, ‘the Princess Atalanta has taught us men how to hunt boars, and has smitten the creature with a mortal wound!’

  Ancaeus, who had also objected to a woman joining in the hunt, was furious at this. ‘Watch!’ he cried, ‘I’ll show you how a man settles wild boars! No pin-pricks from a woman will do it. A battle axe is the weapon, and Artemis herself could not defend this Boar against me!’

  So saying, he rushed at the maddened creature and struck – but struck short. The next moment he was on his back, and the Boar had killed him. In an effort to save him, Peleus flung his spear: but Eurytion sprang forward at the same moment with his weapon raised, and the spear meant for the Boar passed through his body.

  Theseus also launched a spear, but aimed high in his excitement and transfixed only the bough of an oak-tree. But Meleager’s aim was true, and the Boar fell to the ground, and he dispatched it with a blow of his second spear.

  Then the hunters shouted with joy, and stood around gazing in awe at the great creature covering so large a patch of ground. Meleager knelt down and set to work skinning the Boar, and when he had done so, he turned to Atalanta and presented her with the head and hide.

  ‘Lady,’ he said, ‘take the spoils and share my glory with me. You were the first to wound the Boar and more honour belongs to you than to me or any other one of us.’

  Then the rest envied Atalanta her prize, and Phexippus, Meleager’s uncle, could not contain his fury:

  ‘This is the worst insult of all!’ he shouted. ‘My nephew won the skin, and if he did not want it, he should have given it to me, as the most noble person present! As for you, you shameless girl, do not think that we will suffer this dishonour. You may have bewitched Meleager with your beauty, but it has no power on us!’

  At that he and his brother Toxeus seized hold of Atalanta and tore the spoils from her as roughly and insultingly as they could.

  Then Meleager lost his temper completely. With a yell of rage he drew his sword and stabbed Phexippus to the heart. Then he turned upon Toxeus, who tried to defend himself, but soon lay dead beside his brother. Then the party set out sadly for the city, carrying the dead bodies with them, while Atalanta held the head and hide of the Calydonian Boar.

  When Queen Althaea saw that her two brothers were dead, her grief knew no bounds. But when she learnt that Meleager had killed them, her grief turned to a wild frenzy of fury and revenge.

  Suddenly she remembered the charred brand which she had snatched from the hearth when Meleager was a baby. Rushing to her room, she drew it from the chest and cast it upon the fire, where it caught quickly, flamed up, and was soon reduced to ashes.

  Now Meleager was feasting his friends in the hall and drinking the health of Atalanta. All at once the cup fell from his hand, and with a cry he sank to the ground, writhing there in agony. He cried out that he was burning from within, and that he wished the Boar had killed him instead of Ancaeus; and in a few minutes he lay dead.

  Then there was mourning throughout Calydon, and the great Boar Hunt which had begun so happily ended in sadness and tragedy. Queen Althaea, when she came to herself after her frenzy of grief and rage, was so horrified at what she had done that she hanged herself.

  But one happy result came of the Calydonian Boar hunt, for Heracles fell in love with Meleager’s sister, the Princess Deianira. Now King Oeneus had promised her, against her will, to the River Achelous, who came to him in the shape of a fierce man and threatened to destroy his land if he refused his suit.

  When Heracles heard this, he went to the river bank and cried: ‘Noble River Achelous, we both love the same maiden! Come forth, then, in whatever form you choose, and fight with me for her!’

  Achelous accepted this daring challenge, took the form of a great, savage bull, and charged at Heracles. But that mighty Hero was experienced by now in such contests, and seizing Achelous by one horn he snapped it off at the root. Then Achelous submitted, and Deianira became the wife of Heracles, and they lived happily for a while at Calydon, helping Oeneus until his young son Tydeus should be old enough to rule.

  The other hunters had, meanwhile, returned to their homes; but the beautiful Atalanta, famous now for her part in the battle with the Boar, was claimed by her father, King Iasus.

  She settled at his home, not far from Calydon, but still refused to marry.

  ‘But I have no son to succeed me!’ lamented Iasus. ‘Choose whom you will as husband, and you shall rule here jointly, and your children after you.’

  ‘I will obey you, as a daughter should,’ said Atalanta at length. ‘But on one condition. Every prince who comes as my suitor must race with me. Only he that is swifter of foot than I, shall be my husband. But, those whom I beat in the race shall forfeit their lives.’

  Iasus was forced to agree, and sent heralds throughout Greece proclaiming that whoever could outrun his daughter Atalanta should marry her and be king of Tegea; but that those who lost the race would lose their heads also.

  Several princes felt confident that they could run faster than any girl, and came to try their fortune. But each of them in turn left his head to decorate the finishing-post on King Iasus’s race course.

  Soon no one else dared to try, and Atlanta smiled happily for she was determined never to marry.

  At length her cousin Prince Melanion fell in love with her and knowing that he could not surpass her in running, he prayed to Aphrodite, the Immortal Queen of Love and Beauty, to assist him.

  Aphrodite was angry with Atalanta for scorning love and refusing to marry, and she granted Melanion her help. She lent him the three Golden Apples which Heracles had brought from the Garden of the Hesperides, and which Athena had passed on to her for this very purpose.

  Then Melanion presented himself in Tegea, and in spite of all King Iasus’s warnings, insisted on racing for Atalanta.

  The course was set, and the race began. At first Atalanta let Melanion gain on her, for she knew that she was twice as fast a runner as he was. When he saw her shadow drawing close to him, he dropped a golden apple which rolled in front of her.

  Atalanta saw the apple, and was filled with the desire to possess this wonderful thing. So she stopped quickly, picked it up and then sped after Melanion, certain of overtaking him e
asily. And so she did, but as she drew level, he dropped a second apple, and again she could not resist the temptation, but stopped and picked it up.

  Once more she sped after Melanion, and once more she overtook him. But a third apple rolled across in front of her, and at the sight of its beauty and wonder, Atalanta forgot all else, and stopped to gather it.

  ‘I can still overtake him!’ she thought, and sped on like the wind. But Melanion touched the winning-post a moment before she reached him, and so he won her for his wife. And in a little while they were living happily together as king and queen of Tegea, with a small son to be king after them.

  Heracles and Deianira were happy too, living quietly at Calydon, though in time they were forced to move again, as Heracles in a quarrel struck a cousin of the king’s so hard that he died. So they bade farewell to Oeneus and set out on their travels towards the north of Greece.

  Now, on their way, they came to the river Evenus where lived the Centaur called Nessus who hated Heracles. This Centaur was accustomed to carry travellers across the river on his back; and when he had taken Deianira nearly to the other side, he suddenly turned down stream, and began to carry her away. She screamed for help, and Heracles drew his bow and shot Nessus with one of his poisoned arrows.

  As he lay dying on the river bank, Nessus gasped: Lady Deianira, I will tell you a secret. When I am dead keep a little of the blood from my wound, and if ever you find that Heracles has ceased to love you, soak a robe in it and give it him to wear: that will make him love you more than ever before.’

  Then he died, and Deianira did as she was instructed, believing that Nessus had told her this to show how sorry he was for what he had tried to do. But she did not tell Heracles.

  After this they came safely to Trachis, a hundred miles north of Thebes, and were welcomed by King Ceyx. And there they settled down safely and happily.

  But for Heracles there was never to be any real peace or rest, and indeed he did not wish it, for very soon he set out on a new and dangerous expedition.