Refer to captionANTIGONE AND ISMENE.—Teschendorf.
ANTIGONE AND ISMENE.—Teschendorf.
“On himself bent all his wrath,Full in his side the weapon fix’d, but still,Whilst life remain’d, on the soft bosom hungOf the dear maid, and his last spirit breath’dO’er her pale cheek, discolor’d with his blood.Thus lay the wretched pair in death united,And celebrate their nuptials in the tomb.”Sophocles(Francklin’s tr.).
“On himself bent all his wrath,Full in his side the weapon fix’d, but still,Whilst life remain’d, on the soft bosom hungOf the dear maid, and his last spirit breath’dO’er her pale cheek, discolor’d with his blood.Thus lay the wretched pair in death united,And celebrate their nuptials in the tomb.”Sophocles(Francklin’s tr.).
“On himself bent all his wrath,Full in his side the weapon fix’d, but still,Whilst life remain’d, on the soft bosom hungOf the dear maid, and his last spirit breath’dO’er her pale cheek, discolor’d with his blood.Thus lay the wretched pair in death united,And celebrate their nuptials in the tomb.”Sophocles(Francklin’s tr.).
Ismene, the last of Œdipus’ unfortunate race, died of grief, and thus the prophecy was fully accomplished. The Theban war was not, however, entirely ended, for, when both brothers fell, the two armies flew to attack each other; and such was their courage, that many fell, and only one of the seven chiefs returned to Argos. There he patiently waited until the children of these brave captains were old enough to bear arms, and then proposed to them to attack Thebes and avenge their fathers’ death.
The Epigoni (or those who come after), as these youths are collectively designated, received this proposal with rapture; and Thebes, again besieged, fell into their hands, and was duly sacked, burned, and destroyed, as the Delphic oracle had foretold so many years before.
Bellerophon, a brave young prince, the grandson of Sisyphus, King of Corinth, had the great misfortune to kill his own brother while hunting in the forest. His grief was, of course, intense; and the horror he felt for the place where the catastrophe had occurred, added to his fear lest he should incur judicial punishment for his involuntary crime, made him flee to the court of Argos, where he took refuge with Prœtus, the king, who was also his kinsman.
Anteia’s treachery.
He had not sojourned there very long, before Anteia, the queen, fell in love with him; and although her husband, Prœtus, treated her with the utmost kindness, she made up her mind to desert him, and tried to induce Bellerophon to elope with her. Too honest to betray a man who had treated him as a friend, the young prince refused to listen to the queen’s proposals. His refusal was to cost him dear, however; for, when Anteia saw that the youth would never yield to her wishes, she became very angry indeed, sought her husband, and accused the young stranger of crimes he had never even dreamed of committing.
Prœtus, indignant at what he deemed deep treachery on the part of an honored guest, yet reluctant to punish him with his own hand as he deserved, sent Bellerophon to Iobates, King of Lycia, with a sealed message bidding him put the bearer to death.
Quite unconscious of the purport of this letter, Bellerophon traveled gayly onward, and presented himself before Iobates, whoreceived him very hospitably, and, without inquiring his name or errand, entertained him royally for many days. After some time, Bellerophon suddenly remembered the sealed message intrusted to his care, and hastened to deliver it to Iobates, with many apologies for his forgetfulness.
The Chimæra.
With blanched cheeks and every outward sign of horror, the king read the missive, and then fell into a deep reverie. He did not like to take a stranger’s life, and still could not refuse to comply with Prœtus’ urgent request: so, after much thought, he decided to send Bellerophon to attack the Chimæra, a terrible monster with a lion’s head, a goat’s body, and a dragon’s tail.
“Dire Chimæra’s conquest was enjoin’d;A mingled monster, of no mortal kind;Behind, a dragon’s fiery tail was spread;A goat’s rough body bore a lion’s head;Her pitchy nostrils flaky flames expire;Her gaping throat emits infernal fire.”Homer(Pope’s tr.).
“Dire Chimæra’s conquest was enjoin’d;A mingled monster, of no mortal kind;Behind, a dragon’s fiery tail was spread;A goat’s rough body bore a lion’s head;Her pitchy nostrils flaky flames expire;Her gaping throat emits infernal fire.”Homer(Pope’s tr.).
“Dire Chimæra’s conquest was enjoin’d;A mingled monster, of no mortal kind;Behind, a dragon’s fiery tail was spread;A goat’s rough body bore a lion’s head;Her pitchy nostrils flaky flames expire;Her gaping throat emits infernal fire.”Homer(Pope’s tr.).
His principal motive in choosing this difficult task was, that, although many brave men had set forth to slay the monster, none had ever returned, for one and all had perished in the attempt.
Although very courageous, Bellerophon’s heart beat fast with fear when told what great deed he must accomplish; and he left Iobates’ palace very sorrowfully, for he dearly loved the king’s fair daughter, Philonoe, and was afraid he would never see her again.
Minerva’s advice.
While thus inwardly bewailing the ill luck which had so persistently dogged his footsteps, Bellerophon suddenly saw Minerva appear before him in all her splendor, and heard her inquire in gentle tones the cause of his too evident dejection. He had no sooner apprised her of the difficult task appointed him, than she promised him her aid, and before she vanished gave him a beautiful golden bridle, which she bade him use to control Pegasus.
Refer to captionCHIMÆRA. (Egyptian Museum, Florence.)
CHIMÆRA. (Egyptian Museum, Florence.)
Bridle in hand, Bellerophon stood pondering her words, and gradually remembered that Pegasus was a wonderful winged steed, born from the blood which fell into the foam of the sea from Medusa’s severed head (p.244). This horse, as white as snow, and gifted with immortal life as well as incredible speed, was the favorite mount of Apollo and the Muses, who delighted in taking aërial flights on his broad back; and Bellerophon knew that from time to time he came down to earth to drink of the cool waters of the Hippocrene (a fountain which had bubbled forth where his hoofs first touched the earth), or to visit the equally limpid spring of Pirene, near Corinth.
Pegasus bridled.
Bellerophon now proceeded to the latter fountain, where, after lingering many days in the vain hope of catching even a glimpse of the winged steed, he finally beheld him sailing downward in wide curves, like a bird of prey. From his place of concealment in a neighboring thicket, Bellerophon watched his opportunity, and, while the winged steed was grazing, he boldly vaulted upon his back.
Pegasus, who had never before been ridden by a mortal, reared and pranced, and flew up to dizzy heights; but all his efforts failed to unseat the brave rider, who, biding his time, finally thrust Minerva’s golden bit between his teeth, and immediately he became gentle and tractable. Mounted upon this incomparable steed, Bellerophon now went in search of the winged monster Chimæra, who had given birth to the Nemean lion and to the riddle-loving Sphinx.
Chimæra slain.
From an unclouded sky Bellerophon and Pegasus swooped suddenly and unexpectedly down upon the terrible Chimæra, whose fiery breath and great strength were of no avail; for after a protracted struggle Bellerophon and Pegasus were victorious, and the monster lay lifeless upon the blood-soaked ground.
This mighty deed of valor accomplished, Bellerophon returned to Iobates, to report the success of his undertaking; and, although the king was heartily glad to know the Chimæra was no more,he was very sorry to see Bellerophon safe and sound, and tried to devise some other plan to get rid of him.
He therefore sent him to fight the Amazons; but the hero, aided by the gods, defeated these warlike women also, and returned to Lycia, where, after escaping from an ambush posted by the king for his destruction, he again appeared victorious at court.
These repeated and narrow escapes from certain death convinced Iobates that the youth was under the special protection of the gods; and this induced the king not only to forego further attempts to slay him, but also to bestow upon the young hero his daughter’s hand in marriage.
Bellerophon, having now attained his dearest wishes, might have settled down in peace; but his head had been utterly turned by the many lofty flights he had taken upon Pegasus’ back, and, encouraged by the fulsome flattery of his courtiers, he finally fancied himself the equal of the immortal gods, and wished to join them in their celestial abode.
Bellerophon’s fall.
Summoning his faithful Pegasus once more, he rose higher and higher, and would probably have reached Olympus’ heights, had not Jupiter sent a gadfly, which stung poor Pegasus so cruelly, that he shied viciously, and flung his too confident rider far down to the earth below.
“Bold Bellerophon (so Jove decreedIn wrath) fell headlong from the fields of air.”Wordsworth.
“Bold Bellerophon (so Jove decreedIn wrath) fell headlong from the fields of air.”Wordsworth.
“Bold Bellerophon (so Jove decreedIn wrath) fell headlong from the fields of air.”Wordsworth.
This fall, which would doubtless have killed any one but a mythological hero, merely deprived Bellerophon of his eyesight; and ever after he groped his way disconsolately, thinking of the happy days when he rode along the paths of air, and gazed upon the beautiful earth at his feet.
Bellerophon, mounted upon Pegasus, winging his flight through the air or fighting the Chimæra, is a favorite subject in sculpture and painting, which has frequently been treated by ancient artists,a few of whose most noted works are still extant in various museums.
This story, like many others, is merely a sun myth, in which Bellerophon, the orb of day, rides across the sky on Pegasus, the fleecy white clouds, and slays Chimæra, the dread monster of darkness, which he alone can overcome. Driven from home early in life, Bellerophon wanders throughout the world like his brilliant prototype, and, like it, ends his career in total darkness.
Naiades and Oreades.
Accordingto the ancients’ belief, every mountain, valley, plain, lake, river, grove, and sea was provided with some lesser deity, whose special duty was assigned by the powerful gods of Olympus. These were, for instance, the Naiades, beautiful water nymphs, who dwelt in the limpid depths of the fountains, and were considered local patrons of poetry and song.
The Oreades, or mountain nymphs, were supposed to linger in the mountain solitudes, and guide weary travelers safely through their rocky mazes.
“Mark how the climbing OreadsBeckon thee to their Arcades!”Emerson.
“Mark how the climbing OreadsBeckon thee to their Arcades!”Emerson.
“Mark how the climbing OreadsBeckon thee to their Arcades!”Emerson.
Napææ and Dryades.
As for the Napææ, they preferred to linger in the valleys, which were kept green and fruitful by their watchful care, in which task they were ably seconded by the Dryades, the nymphs of vegetation.
The very trees in the forest and along the roadside were supposed to be each under the protection of a special divinity called Hamadryad, said to live and die with the tree intrusted to her care.
“When the Fate of Death is drawing near,First wither on the earth the beauteous trees,The bark around them wastes, the branches fall,And the nymph’s soul, at the same moment, leavesThe sun’s fair light.”Homer.
“When the Fate of Death is drawing near,First wither on the earth the beauteous trees,The bark around them wastes, the branches fall,And the nymph’s soul, at the same moment, leavesThe sun’s fair light.”Homer.
“When the Fate of Death is drawing near,First wither on the earth the beauteous trees,The bark around them wastes, the branches fall,And the nymph’s soul, at the same moment, leavesThe sun’s fair light.”Homer.
Story of Dryope.
A sweet and touching story was told by the ancients of a mortal who was changed into a Hamadryad. This young girl, whose name was Dryope, was a beautiful young princess, the daughter of Baucis, so bright and clever, that all who knew her loved her dearly. Of course, as soon as she was old enough to think of marriage, a host of suitors asked her hand, each eager to win for his bride one so beautiful and gifted.
“No nymph of all Œchalia could compare,For beauteous form, with Dryope the fair.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
“No nymph of all Œchalia could compare,For beauteous form, with Dryope the fair.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
“No nymph of all Œchalia could compare,For beauteous form, with Dryope the fair.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
Fully aware of the importance of making a wise choice, Dryope took her time, and finally decided to marry Andræmon, a worthy young prince, who possessed every charm calculated to win a fair girl’s heart. The young people were duly married, and daily rejoiced in their happiness, which seemed almost too great for earth, when they became the parents of a charming little son.
Every day Dryope carried the child along the banks of a little lake close by the palace, where bloomed a profusion of gay-colored flowers.
“A lake there was, with shelving banks around,Whose verdant summit fragrant myrtles crown’d.Those shades, unknowing of the Fates, she sought,And to the Naiads flowery garlands brought;Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she press’dBetween her arms.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
“A lake there was, with shelving banks around,Whose verdant summit fragrant myrtles crown’d.Those shades, unknowing of the Fates, she sought,And to the Naiads flowery garlands brought;Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she press’dBetween her arms.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
“A lake there was, with shelving banks around,Whose verdant summit fragrant myrtles crown’d.Those shades, unknowing of the Fates, she sought,And to the Naiads flowery garlands brought;Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she press’dBetween her arms.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
One day, while wandering there as usual, accompanied by her sister, she saw a lotus blossom, and pointed it out to her little son. He no sooner saw the brilliant flower, than he stretched out his little hands. To please him, the fond mother plucked it and gave it to him.
She had scarcely done so, when she noticed drops of blood trickling from the broken stem; and while she stood there, speechlesswith wonder, a voice was heard accusing her of having slain Lotis, a nymph, who, to escape the pursuit of Priapus, god of the shade, had assumed the guise of a flower.
“Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true),As from Priapus’ lawless love she flew,Forsook her form; and fixing here becameA flowery plant, which still preserves her name.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
“Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true),As from Priapus’ lawless love she flew,Forsook her form; and fixing here becameA flowery plant, which still preserves her name.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
“Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true),As from Priapus’ lawless love she flew,Forsook her form; and fixing here becameA flowery plant, which still preserves her name.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
Recovering from her first speechless terror, Dryope turned to flee, with a pitiful cry of compassion on her pale lips, but, to her astonishment, she could not leave the spot: her feet seemed rooted to the ground. She cast a rapid glance downward to ascertain what could so impede her progress, and noticed the rough bark of a tree growing with fearful rapidity all around her.
Higher and higher it rose, from her knees to her waist, and still it crept upward, in spite of her frantic attempts to tear it away from her shapely limbs. In despair she raised her trembling hands and arms to heaven to implore aid; but, ere the words were spoken, her arms were transformed into twisted branches, and her hands were filled with leaves.
Nothing human now remained of poor Dryope except her sweet, tear-stained face; but this too would soon vanish under the all-involving bark. She therefore took hasty leave of her father, sister, husband, and son, who, attracted by her first cry, had rushed to give her all the assistance in their power. The last words were quickly spoken, but none too soon, for the bark closed over the soft lips and hid the lovely features from view.
“She ceased at once to speak, and ceased to be,And all the nymph was lost within the tree:Yet latent life through her new branches reign’d,And long the plant a human heat retain’d.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
“She ceased at once to speak, and ceased to be,And all the nymph was lost within the tree:Yet latent life through her new branches reign’d,And long the plant a human heat retain’d.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
“She ceased at once to speak, and ceased to be,And all the nymph was lost within the tree:Yet latent life through her new branches reign’d,And long the plant a human heat retain’d.”Ovid(Pope’s tr.).
One of Dryope’s last requests had been that her child might often play beneath her shady branches; and when the passingwinds rustled through her leaves, the ancients said it was “Dryope’s lone lulling of her child.”
Satyrs and Pan.
The male divinities of the woods, which were also very numerous, were mostly Satyrs,—curious beings with a man’s body and a goat’s legs, hair, and horns. They were all passionately fond of music and revelry, and were wont to indulge in dancing at all times and in all places. The most famous among all the Satyrs was Silenus, Bacchus’ tutor; and Pan, or Consentes, god of the shepherds, and the personification of nature. The latter was the reputed son of Mercury and a charming young nymph named Penelope; and we are told, that, when his mother first beheld him, she was aghast, for he was the most homely as well as the most extraordinary little creature she had ever seen. His body was all covered with goat’s hair, and his feet and ears were also those of a goat.
Amused at the sight of this grotesque little divinity, Mercury carried him off to Olympus, where all the gods turned him into ridicule. Pan was widely worshiped in olden times, however; and the ancients not only decked his altars with flowers, but sang his praises, and celebrated festivals in his honor.
“He is great and he is just,He is ever good, and mustBe honored. Daffodillies,Roses, pinks, and loved lilies,Let us fling, while we sing,Ever Holy! Ever Holy!Ever honored! Ever young!The great Pan is ever sung!”BeaumontandFletcher.
“He is great and he is just,He is ever good, and mustBe honored. Daffodillies,Roses, pinks, and loved lilies,Let us fling, while we sing,Ever Holy! Ever Holy!Ever honored! Ever young!The great Pan is ever sung!”BeaumontandFletcher.
“He is great and he is just,He is ever good, and mustBe honored. Daffodillies,Roses, pinks, and loved lilies,Let us fling, while we sing,Ever Holy! Ever Holy!Ever honored! Ever young!The great Pan is ever sung!”BeaumontandFletcher.
Story of Syrinx.
Pan was equally devoted to music, the dance, and pretty nymphs. He saw one of the nymphs, Syrinx, whom he immediately loved; but unfortunately for him, she, frightened at his appearance, fled. Exasperated by her persistent avoidance of him, Pan once pursued and was about to overtake her, when she paused, and implored Gæa to protect her.The prayer was scarcely ended, when she found herself changed into a clump of reeds, which the panting lover embraced, thinking he had caught the maiden, who had stood in that very spot a few moments before.
His deception and disappointment were so severe, that they wrung from him a prolonged sigh, which, passing through the rustling reeds, produced plaintive tones. Pan, seeing Syrinx had gone forever, took seven pieces of the reed, of unequal lengths, bound them together, and fashioned from them a musical instrument, which was called by the name of the fair nymph.
“Fair, trembling Syrinx fledArcadian Pan, with such a fearful dread.Poor nymph!—poor Pan!—how he did weep to findNaught but a lovely sighing of the windAlong the reedy stream; a half-heard strainFull of sweet desolation—balmy pain.”Keats.
“Fair, trembling Syrinx fledArcadian Pan, with such a fearful dread.Poor nymph!—poor Pan!—how he did weep to findNaught but a lovely sighing of the windAlong the reedy stream; a half-heard strainFull of sweet desolation—balmy pain.”Keats.
“Fair, trembling Syrinx fledArcadian Pan, with such a fearful dread.Poor nymph!—poor Pan!—how he did weep to findNaught but a lovely sighing of the windAlong the reedy stream; a half-heard strainFull of sweet desolation—balmy pain.”Keats.
Pan was supposed to delight in slyly overtaking belated travelers and inspiring them with sudden and unfounded fears,—from him called “panic.” He is generally represented with a syrinx and shepherd’s crook, and a pine garland around his misshapen head.
Silvan deities.
The Romans also worshiped three other divinities of nature entirely unknown to the Greeks; i.e., Silvanus, Faunus, and Fauna, the latter’s wife, who had charge over the woods and plants. Priapus, god of the shade, was also a rural deity, but his worship was only known along the shores of the Hellespont.
Flora and Zephyrus.
The fairest among all the lesser gods was doubtless Flora, goddess of flowers, who married Zephyrus, the gentle god of the south wind, and wandered happily with him from place to place, scattering her favors with lavish generosity. She was principally worshiped by young girls, and the only offerings ever seen on her altars were fruits and garlands of beautiful flowers. Her festivals, generally celebrated in the month of May, were called the Floralia.
Refer to caption“A FAVORABLE OPPORTUNITY.”—Thumann. (Vertumnus and Pomona.)
“A FAVORABLE OPPORTUNITY.”—Thumann. (Vertumnus and Pomona.)
“Crowds of nymphs,Soft voiced, and young, and gay,In woven baskets bringing ears of corn,Roses and pinks and violets to adornThe shrine of Flora in her early May.”Keats.
“Crowds of nymphs,Soft voiced, and young, and gay,In woven baskets bringing ears of corn,Roses and pinks and violets to adornThe shrine of Flora in her early May.”Keats.
“Crowds of nymphs,Soft voiced, and young, and gay,In woven baskets bringing ears of corn,Roses and pinks and violets to adornThe shrine of Flora in her early May.”Keats.
Vertumnus and Pomona.
Vertumnus and Pomona were the special divinities of the garden and orchard. They are represented with pruning knives and shears, gardening implements, and fruits and flowers. Pomona was very coy indeed, and had no desire to marry. Vertumnus, enamored of her charms, did his best to make her change her mind, but she would not even listen to his pleadings.
At last the lover had recourse to stratagem, disguised himself as an aged crone, entered Pomona’s garden, and inquired how it happened that such a very charming young woman should remain so long unmarried. Then, having received a mocking answer, he began to argue with her, and finally extracted an avowal, that, among all the suitors, one alone was worthy of her love, Vertumnus. Vertumnus seized the favorable opportunity, revealed himself, and clasped her to his breast. Pomona, perceiving that she had hopelessly betrayed herself, no longer refused to wed, but allowed him to share her labors, and help her turn the luscious fruit to ripen in the autumn sunshine.
Sea deities.
The lesser divinities of the sea were almost as numerous as those of the land, and included the lovely Oceanides and Nereides, together with their male companions the Tritons, who generally formed Neptune’s regal train.
Story of Glaucus.
One of the lesser sea gods, Glaucus, was once a poor fisherman, who earned his daily bread by selling the fish he caught in his nets. On one occasion he made an extra fine haul, and threw his net full of fish down upon a certain kind of grass, which the flapping fish immediately nibbled, and, as if endowed with extraordinary powers, bounded back into the waves and swam away.
Greatly surprised at this occurrence, Glaucus began chewing a few blades of this peculiar grass, and immediately felt an insane desire to plunge into the sea,—a desire which soon became so intense, that he could no longer resist it, but dived down into the water. The mere contact with the salt waves sufficed to change his nature; and swimming about comfortably in the element, where he now found himself perfectly at home, he began to explore the depths of the sea.
“‘I plung’d for life or death. To interknitOne’s senses with so dense a breathing stuffMight seem a work of pain; so not enoughCan I admire how crystal-smooth it felt,And buoyant round my limbs. At first I dweltWhole days and days in sheer astonishment;Forgetful utterly of self-intent;Moving but with the mighty ebb and flow.Then, like a new fledg’d bird that first doth showHis spreaded feathers to the morrow chill,I try’d in fear the pinions of my will.’Twas freedom! and at once I visitedThe ceaseless wonders of this ocean-bed.’”Keats.
“‘I plung’d for life or death. To interknitOne’s senses with so dense a breathing stuffMight seem a work of pain; so not enoughCan I admire how crystal-smooth it felt,And buoyant round my limbs. At first I dweltWhole days and days in sheer astonishment;Forgetful utterly of self-intent;Moving but with the mighty ebb and flow.Then, like a new fledg’d bird that first doth showHis spreaded feathers to the morrow chill,I try’d in fear the pinions of my will.’Twas freedom! and at once I visitedThe ceaseless wonders of this ocean-bed.’”Keats.
“‘I plung’d for life or death. To interknitOne’s senses with so dense a breathing stuffMight seem a work of pain; so not enoughCan I admire how crystal-smooth it felt,And buoyant round my limbs. At first I dweltWhole days and days in sheer astonishment;Forgetful utterly of self-intent;Moving but with the mighty ebb and flow.Then, like a new fledg’d bird that first doth showHis spreaded feathers to the morrow chill,I try’d in fear the pinions of my will.’Twas freedom! and at once I visitedThe ceaseless wonders of this ocean-bed.’”Keats.
Glaucus was worshiped most particularly by the fishermen and boatmen, whose vessels he was supposed to guard from evil, and whose nets were often filled to overflow through his intervention.
Jupiter, father of the gods, once fell deeply in love with a beautiful sea nymph named Thetis, the daughter of Nereus and Doris,—
“Thetis of the silver feet, and childOf the gray Ancient of the Deep.”Homer(Bryant’s tr.).
“Thetis of the silver feet, and childOf the gray Ancient of the Deep.”Homer(Bryant’s tr.).
“Thetis of the silver feet, and childOf the gray Ancient of the Deep.”Homer(Bryant’s tr.).
Jupiter and Thetis.
He was very anxious indeed to marry her, but, before taking such an important step, deemed it prudent to consult the Fates, who alone could inform him whether this union would be for his happiness or not. It was very fortunate for him that he did so, for the three sisters told him that Thetis was destined to be the mother of a son who would far outshine his father.
Jupiter carefully pondered this reply, and concluded to renounce the marriage rather than run any risk of being forced to surrender his power to one greater than he. Thetis’ hand he then decreed should be given in marriage to Peleus, King of Phthia, who had loved her faithfully, and had long sued in vain.
Thetis, however, was not at all anxious to accept the hand of a mere mortal after having enjoyed the attention of the gods (for Neptune also had wooed her), and demurred, until Jupiter promised his own and the gods’ attendance at the marriage feast. The prospect of this signal honor reconciled the maiden, and the wedding preparations were made in the coral caves of her father, Nereus, beneath the foam-crested waves.
Thither, mindful of his promise, came Jupiter, with all the gods of Olympus.
“Then, with his Queen, the Father of the godsCame down from high Olympus’ bright abodes;Came down, with all th’ attending deities.”Catullus.
“Then, with his Queen, the Father of the godsCame down from high Olympus’ bright abodes;Came down, with all th’ attending deities.”Catullus.
“Then, with his Queen, the Father of the godsCame down from high Olympus’ bright abodes;Came down, with all th’ attending deities.”Catullus.
The guests took their seats, and pledged the bride and groom in brimming cups of wine,—Bacchus’ wedding gift to Thetis. All was joy and merriment, when an uninvited guest suddenly appeared in the banquet-hall. All present immediately recognized Eris, or Discordia, goddess of discord, whose snaky locks, sour looks, and violent temper had caused her to be omitted from the wedding list,—
“The Abominable, that uninvited cameInto the fair Peleian banquet-hall.”Tennyson.
“The Abominable, that uninvited cameInto the fair Peleian banquet-hall.”Tennyson.
“The Abominable, that uninvited cameInto the fair Peleian banquet-hall.”Tennyson.
The apple of discord.
This omission angered her, and made her determine to have her revenge by troubling the harmony which evidently reigned among all the guests. For a moment she stood beside the bountiful board, then threw upon it a golden apple, and, exhaling over the assembly her poisoned breath, she vanished. The general attention was, of course, turned upon the golden fruit, whereon the inscription “To the fairest” was clearly traced.
All the ladies were at first inclined to contend for the prize; but little by little all the claimants withdrew except Juno, Minerva, and Venus, who hotly disputed for its possession. Juno declared that the queen of the gods, in her majesty and power, surely had the best right; Minerva, that the beauty of wisdom and knowledge far surpassed external charms; and Venus smiled, and archly requested to be informed who might assert greater claims than the goddess of beauty.
The dispute grew more and more bitter, and the irate goddesses called upon the guests to award the prize to the most deserving;but the guests, one and all, refused to act as umpires, for the apple could be given to but one, and the two others would be sure to vent their anger and disappointment upon the judge who passed over their charms in favor of a third. The final decision was therefore referred to Paris, who, although performing the lowly duties of a shepherd, was the son of Priam and Hecuba, King and Queen of Troy.
When but a babe, Paris had been exposed on a mountain to perish, because an oracle had predicted that he would cause the death of his family and the downfall of his native city. Although thus cruelly treated, he had not perished, but had been adopted by a shepherd, who made him follow his own calling.
Paris and Œnone.
When Paris reached manhood, he was a very handsome and attractive young man, and won the love of Œnone, a beautiful nymph to whom he was secretly united. Their happiness, however, was but fleeting, for the Fates had decreed that Paris’ love for the fair Œnone would soon die.
“The Fate,That rules the will of Jove, had spun the daysOf Paris and Œnone.”Quintus Smyrnæus(Elton’s tr.).
“The Fate,That rules the will of Jove, had spun the daysOf Paris and Œnone.”Quintus Smyrnæus(Elton’s tr.).
“The Fate,That rules the will of Jove, had spun the daysOf Paris and Œnone.”Quintus Smyrnæus(Elton’s tr.).
Judgment of Paris.
Instead of lingering by the fair nymph’s side, Paris wandered off to a lonely mountain top, where the three goddesses sought him to judge their quarrel. Minerva, in glittering armor, first appeared before his dazzled eyes, and proffered the bribe of extensive wisdom if he would but give her the preference.
Juno, queen of heaven, next appeared in royal robes and insignia, and whispered that he should have great wealth and unlimited power were he only to award the prize to her.
“She to Paris madeProffer of royal power, ample ruleUnquestion’d, overflowing revenueWherewith to embellish state, ‘from many a valeAnd river-sunder’d champaign clothed with corn,Or labor’d mine undrainable of ore.Honor,’ she said, ‘and homage, tax and toll,From many an inland town and haven large,Mast-throng’d beneath her shadowing citadelIn glassy bays among her tallest towers.’”Tennyson.
“She to Paris madeProffer of royal power, ample ruleUnquestion’d, overflowing revenueWherewith to embellish state, ‘from many a valeAnd river-sunder’d champaign clothed with corn,Or labor’d mine undrainable of ore.Honor,’ she said, ‘and homage, tax and toll,From many an inland town and haven large,Mast-throng’d beneath her shadowing citadelIn glassy bays among her tallest towers.’”Tennyson.
“She to Paris madeProffer of royal power, ample ruleUnquestion’d, overflowing revenueWherewith to embellish state, ‘from many a valeAnd river-sunder’d champaign clothed with corn,Or labor’d mine undrainable of ore.Honor,’ she said, ‘and homage, tax and toll,From many an inland town and haven large,Mast-throng’d beneath her shadowing citadelIn glassy bays among her tallest towers.’”Tennyson.
But all Minerva’s and Juno’s charms and bribes were forgotten when Venus, in her magic cestus, appeared before the judge. This artful simplicity was the result of much thought, for we are told that
“Venus oft with anxious careAdjusted twice a single hair.”Cowper.
“Venus oft with anxious careAdjusted twice a single hair.”Cowper.
“Venus oft with anxious careAdjusted twice a single hair.”Cowper.
Then, trembling lest her efforts should prove vain, she gently drew near the youth, and softly promised him a bride as fair as herself, in return for the coveted golden apple.
Won either by her superior attractions or by her alluring bribe, Paris no longer hesitated, but placed the prize in her extended palm.
“Ere yet her speech was finished, he consign’dTo her soft hand the fruit of burnished rind;And foam-born Venus grasp’d the graceful meed,Of war, of evil war, the quickening seed.”Coluthus(Elton’s tr.).
“Ere yet her speech was finished, he consign’dTo her soft hand the fruit of burnished rind;And foam-born Venus grasp’d the graceful meed,Of war, of evil war, the quickening seed.”Coluthus(Elton’s tr.).
“Ere yet her speech was finished, he consign’dTo her soft hand the fruit of burnished rind;And foam-born Venus grasp’d the graceful meed,Of war, of evil war, the quickening seed.”Coluthus(Elton’s tr.).
This act of partiality, of course, called down upon him the wrath and hatred of Juno and Minerva, who, biding their time, watched for a suitable opportunity to avenge themselves; while Venus, triumphant, and anxious to redeem her promise, directed Paris to return to Troy, make himself known to his parents,—who, the goddess promised, would welcome him warmly,—and obtain from them a fleet in which he might sail to Greece.
Refer to captionPARIS. (Vatican, Rome.)
PARIS. (Vatican, Rome.)
In obedience to these instructions, Paris ruthlessly abandoned the fair and faithful Œnone, and, joining a band of youthful shepherds, went to Troy, under pretext of witnessing a solemnfestival. There he took part in the athletic games, distinguished himself, and attracted the attention of his sister Cassandra.
Paris’ return to Troy.
This princess was noted for her beauty, and it is said had even been wooed by Apollo, who, hoping to win her favor, bestowed upon her the gift of prophecy. For some reason the god’s suit had not prospered; and, as he could not take back the power conferred, he annulled it by making her hearers refuse to credit her words.
Cassandra immediately called her parents’ attention to the extraordinary likeness Paris bore to her other brothers; and then, breaking out into a prophetic strain, she foretold that he would bring destruction upon his native city. Priam and Hecuba, scorning her prophecy, joyfully received their long-lost son, lovingly compelled him to take up his abode in their palace, and promised to atone for their past neglect by granting his every wish.
Paris sails for Greece.
Still advised by Venus, Paris soon expressed a desire to sail for Greece, under the pretext of rescuing Hesione, his father’s sister, whom Hercules had carried off, after besieging Troy. He was promptly provided with several well-manned galleys, and soon after appeared at the court of Menelaus, King of Sparta, whose young wife, Helen, was the most beautiful woman of her time, if we are to believe the testimony of her contemporaries.
“Full threescore girls, in sportive flight we stray’d,Like youths anointing, where along the gladeThe baths of cool Eurotas limpid play’d.But none, of all, with Helen might compare,Nor one seem’d faultless of the fairest fair.As morn, with vermeil visage, looks from high,When solemn night has vanish’d suddenly;When winter melts, and frees the frozen hours,And spring’s green bough is gemm’d with silvery flowers:So bloom’d the virgin Helen in our eyes,With full voluptuous limbs, and towering size:In shape, in height, in stately presence fair,Straight as a furrow gliding from the share;A cypress of the gardens, spiring high,A courser in the cars of Thessaly.So rose-complexion’d Helen charm’d the sight;Our Sparta’s grace, our glory, and delight.”Theocritus(Elton’s tr.).
“Full threescore girls, in sportive flight we stray’d,Like youths anointing, where along the gladeThe baths of cool Eurotas limpid play’d.But none, of all, with Helen might compare,Nor one seem’d faultless of the fairest fair.As morn, with vermeil visage, looks from high,When solemn night has vanish’d suddenly;When winter melts, and frees the frozen hours,And spring’s green bough is gemm’d with silvery flowers:So bloom’d the virgin Helen in our eyes,With full voluptuous limbs, and towering size:In shape, in height, in stately presence fair,Straight as a furrow gliding from the share;A cypress of the gardens, spiring high,A courser in the cars of Thessaly.So rose-complexion’d Helen charm’d the sight;Our Sparta’s grace, our glory, and delight.”Theocritus(Elton’s tr.).
“Full threescore girls, in sportive flight we stray’d,Like youths anointing, where along the gladeThe baths of cool Eurotas limpid play’d.But none, of all, with Helen might compare,Nor one seem’d faultless of the fairest fair.As morn, with vermeil visage, looks from high,When solemn night has vanish’d suddenly;When winter melts, and frees the frozen hours,And spring’s green bough is gemm’d with silvery flowers:So bloom’d the virgin Helen in our eyes,With full voluptuous limbs, and towering size:In shape, in height, in stately presence fair,Straight as a furrow gliding from the share;A cypress of the gardens, spiring high,A courser in the cars of Thessaly.So rose-complexion’d Helen charm’d the sight;Our Sparta’s grace, our glory, and delight.”Theocritus(Elton’s tr.).
Helen’s suitors.
A daughter of Jupiter and Leda (whom Jove had courted in the guise of a snow-white swan), Helen had many suitors who ardently strove to win her favor. The noblest, bravest, and best came to woo and hoped to win; but all were left in suspense, as the maiden did not show any preference, and refused to make known her choice.
Tyndareus, Helen’s stepfather, thinking the rejected suitors might attempt to steal her away from any husband she selected, proposed that all the candidates for her hand should take a solemn oath, binding themselves to respect the marital rights of the favored suitor, and help him regain possession of his wife should any one venture to kidnap her.
“This was causeTo Tyndarus her father of much doubt,To give, or not to give her, and how bestTo make good fortune his: at length this thoughtOccurr’d, that each to each the wooers giveTheir oath, and plight their hands, and on the flamesPour the libations, and with solemn vowsBind their firm faith that him, who should obtainThe virgin for his bride, they all would aid;If any dar’d to seize and bear her off,And drive by force her husband from her bed,All would unite in arms, and lay his town,Greek or Barbaric, level with the ground.”Euripides(Potter’s tr.).
“This was causeTo Tyndarus her father of much doubt,To give, or not to give her, and how bestTo make good fortune his: at length this thoughtOccurr’d, that each to each the wooers giveTheir oath, and plight their hands, and on the flamesPour the libations, and with solemn vowsBind their firm faith that him, who should obtainThe virgin for his bride, they all would aid;If any dar’d to seize and bear her off,And drive by force her husband from her bed,All would unite in arms, and lay his town,Greek or Barbaric, level with the ground.”Euripides(Potter’s tr.).
“This was causeTo Tyndarus her father of much doubt,To give, or not to give her, and how bestTo make good fortune his: at length this thoughtOccurr’d, that each to each the wooers giveTheir oath, and plight their hands, and on the flamesPour the libations, and with solemn vowsBind their firm faith that him, who should obtainThe virgin for his bride, they all would aid;If any dar’d to seize and bear her off,And drive by force her husband from her bed,All would unite in arms, and lay his town,Greek or Barbaric, level with the ground.”Euripides(Potter’s tr.).
All agreed to this proposal, the oath was taken, and Helen, whose deliberations had come to an end, bestowed her hand upon Menelaus, King of Sparta.
Abduction of Helen.
On his arrival at Sparta, in Lacedæmonia, Paris was received with graceful hospitality by Menelaus and Helen. He had not sojourned there many days, however, before the king was called away from home, and departed, confiding to his wife the care of entertaining his princely guest. During his absence, Paris, urged by Venus, courted Helen so successfully, that she finally consented to elope with him, and allowed herself to be borne away in triumph to Troy.
“Then from her husband’s stranger-sheltering homeHe tempted Helen o’er the ocean foam.”Coluthus(Elton’s tr.).
“Then from her husband’s stranger-sheltering homeHe tempted Helen o’er the ocean foam.”Coluthus(Elton’s tr.).
“Then from her husband’s stranger-sheltering homeHe tempted Helen o’er the ocean foam.”Coluthus(Elton’s tr.).
Preparations for war.
Menelaus, on his return from Crete, discovered his guest’s treachery, and swore never to rest satisfied until he had recovered his truant wife, and punished her seducer. Messengers were sent in haste in every direction, to summon Helen’s former suitors to keep their oath, and join Menelaus at Aulis with men and weapons. All came promptly at his call except Ulysses, King of Ithaca, who, to console himself for Helen’s refusal of his suit, had married her cousin, Penelope, and had now no dearer wish than to linger by her side and admire his infant son, Telemachus.
Ulysses feigns madness.
In the presence of the messenger Palamedes, Ulysses feigned insanity, hoping thereby to elude the tedious journey to Troy; but the messenger was not so easily duped, and cleverly determined to ascertain the truth by stratagem. One day, therefore, when the king was plowing the seashore with an ox and horse harnessed together, and sowing this strange field with salt, Palamedes placed the babe Telemachus in the furrow, directly in front of the plow, and marked how skillfully Ulysses turned his ill-assorted team aside to avoid harming his heir. This action sufficed to prove to Palamedes that the king had not lost all control of his senses, and enabled him to force Ulysses to obey Menelaus’ summons.
Refer to captionABDUCTION OF HELEN.—Deutsch.
ABDUCTION OF HELEN.—Deutsch.
Agamemnon made chief.
At Aulis the assembled army with unanimous consent electedAgamemnon, Menelaus’ brother, chief of the expedition, which numbered, among many others, Nestor, noted for his wise counsel; Ajax, gigantic in strength and courage; and Diomedes, the renowned warrior.
The troops were assembled, the vessels freighted; but before they departed, the chiefs considered it expedient to consult an oracle, to ascertain whether their expedition was destined to succeed. In a somewhat veiled and ambiguous manner, they received answer that Troy could never be taken without the aid of the son of Peleus and Thetis, Achilles, of whom the Fates had predicted that he would surpass his father in greatness (p.305).