by Unknown
When the war was ended, Zeus shut up Cronos and the Titans in a fiery prison under the earth called Tartarus; and in after days the souls of the wicked were sent there to suffer with them.
Zeus and his brothers then cast lots to see which should rule the air, which the sea, and which under the earth: and so Zeus became the King of Heaven, Poseidon ruled the waves, and Hades the realm of the dead.
Then there was peace, and Zeus caused the palaces of the gods to be built: but whether their golden home was on Mount Olympus in the north of Greece, or on some cloud-mountain high up in the heavens, the Greeks were not quite certain.
After this Zeus began to restore the bruised and battered earth, for the Titans had thrown great mountains about, and brought desolation wherever they went.
Not all the Titans had taken part in the war, for the stories say that Helios, who drove the chariot of the Sun, was a Titan, and so was Selene, the Moon, and so too was Ocean, the very sea itself. And there were Metis, or Thought, Themis, or Justice, and Mnemosyne, or Memory, the mother of the Nine Muses, who lived on Mount Helicon. The Muses, of course, attended to the Arts – History, Lyric Poetry, Comedy, Tragedy, Dancing, Love-Poetry, Hymns, Epic, and Astronomy; and they were the special companions of Apollo.
One of the Titans who were imprisoned in Tartarus was Iapetus. He had three sons, two of whom helped Zeus in many ways. The third son, the only one who looked like a Titan, was Atlas; who fought against Zeus, and for a punishment was made to stand on top of Mount Atlas in North Africa and hold up the sky on his shoulders.
The two helpful sons of Iapetus were Prometheus and Epimetheus; and the first of these was one of the most important figures in all Greek myth.
CHAPTER TWO
HERMES AND APOLLO
There through the dews beside me
Behold a youth that trod,
With feathered cap on forehead,
And poised a golden rod.
With lips that brim with laughter
But never once respond,
And feet that fly on feathers,
And serpent-circled wand.
A. E. HOUSMAN
The Merry Guide
2
Before the great war with the Titans there had been men on the earth, and that time was the Golden Age when the corn grew without ploughing or sowing, and all the animals lived on fruit or grass.
The Golden Age came and passed, for no children were born, and the men and women did nothing but eat and drink, and wander about the lovely garden of the world.
Then came the men of the Silver Age, and with them came wickedness and evil, because of Cronos and the Titans; and they were destroyed utterly from the earth and were imprisoned with their wicked makers in Tartarus.
But when Zeus sat throned in Olympus, and the great war was over, he called to him the good Titan Prometheus.
‘Go,’ he said, ‘and make Man out of clay. Make him in shape and form like the Immortals, and I will breathe life into him. Then you shall teach him such things as he needs to know, so that he may honour the Immortals and build temples for us. And after a little time he shall die and go down to the realm of my brother Hades, and be subject to him.’
Prometheus did as he was told. He went to a place in Greece called Panopeus, not many miles to the north-east of Delphi, and from the red clay he fashioned Man. Then Zeus gave life to the clay men, and left Prometheus to teach them all things needful.
‘You may give such gifts as are suitable,’ Zeus said, ‘but you must not give them fire – for that belongs to the Immortals. If you disobey me in this matter, your fate shall be more terrible than that of all the other Titans put together!’
After this Zeus went away into the rocky land of Arcadia in the south of Greece and dwelt there for a while with the Star Maiden Maia. They lived in a cave on the beautiful Mount Cyllene, and there a marvellous child was born, whose name was Hermes.
None of the Immortals knew where Zeus had gone, nor what he was up to: but Apollo learnt, and in a strange way.
Apollo owned a herd of the most magnificent cattle, and they were guarded for him by Helios, the Titan who drove the chariot of the Sun, and who could see all that happened on the earth during the day.
One morning he sent a message to Apollo: the cows had vanished! Last night they were grazing peacefully in a green valley of Arcadia, and today there was not a trace of them to be seen.
Full of rage, Apollo set out across Greece in search of them, uttering terrible threats against the thief, and promising wonderful rewards to anyone who could find the cattle.
In Arcadia he met a band of Satyrs, who were wild wood-dwellers, left over, perhaps, from the Golden Age. Now they were inclined to be stupid and cowardly, full of mischief, and out to have a good time at all costs. They had pointed ears and little horns on their heads, and their leader Silenus was fat and foolish.
‘We’ll find your cows!’ puffed Silenus. ‘You trust us, Lord Apollo, we’re always ready to help, and our eyes are sharp – and we’re afraid of nothing!’
‘Good!’ said Apollo in his lordly fashion. ‘Find my cows, and I will reward you well!’
Apollo went on his way, and the Satyrs began their search up and down the valleys of Arcadia.
After much search, they found the cows’ hoof-marks: but to their great surprise the tracks all pointed directly towards the grazing-ground from which they had been stolen!
‘They’re mad! They’re bewitched!’ cried Silenus at length. ‘And some terrible creature must have driven them: look at his footmarks!’
The Satyrs crowded round and stared at the traces of the cattle-thief which were large and round and blurred, with neither toes nor heels, but strange scratches and lines criss-crossing one another.
As they stood talking, a sound came to them out of the hillside, a new and wonderful sound which at first filled them with terror. It was the sound of music, the rich, sweet strains of the lyre which is like a zither or small harp.
After much discussion and many attempts on the part of Silenus to run away and leave the other Satyrs to face the monster, they all began to make as much noise as they could just outside the cave from which the music came – and from which the tracks of the cows led.
‘He’ll come out! He’ll come out!’ yelled the Satyrs. ‘And he’ll be so frightened of us that if he’s the cattle-thief, he’ll fall down with terror as soon as he sees us!’
Hardly had they spoken, when the door of the cave opened slowly. Silenus got ready to run away, and the Satyrs followed his example. But instead of any fearsome monster, there came out of the cave a beautiful mountain-nymph.
‘Wild creatures,’ she said in her sweet, gentle voice, ‘why are you making this noise, and frightening all of us who dwell in this pleasant land? I heard your crazy shouting, and the stamp of your feet in front of my cave, and on the hillside above it, and I came out to know why you disturb a poor nymph like this.’
‘Do not be angry, beautiful nymph,’ begged Silenus. ‘We do not come here as enemies, meaning to hurt you. But that sound, that wonderful sound of strange music which excites us so – what is it, and who is making it?’
‘Come, that’s better,’ smiled the nymph. ‘You will learn by gentleness what you would never discover by force. Then know that I am Cyllene, the nymph of this mountain, and that I am the nurse to a son of Zeus, and the Star Nymph, Maia. His name is Hermes, and he is truly a wonderful child! He is only six days old, and yet he grows at an amazing speed. As for the sound you heard, it was the child playing a strange thing which he has made out of a dead creature which made no sound at all when it was alive!’
‘A dead creature!’ cried Silenus. ‘Not a cow, by any chance?’
‘What nonsense you talk!’ said Cyllene scornfully. ‘The dead creature was a tortoise: Hermes has used its shell, that’s all. He’s made a wonderful new musical instrument by stretching a piece of ox-hide across it, and then stringing it with cow-gut…’
Cyllene pau
sed, realizing that she had said too much, and Silenus exclaimed triumphantly:
‘There you are, he is the thief who has stolen Apollo’s cattle!’
‘Do you dare to call the son of Zeus a thief!’ protested Cyllene. ‘I tell you it’s nonsense! A baby less than a week old doesn’t go stealing cows! And I’ll swear, by any oath you like, that there isn’t a single cow in the cave.’
‘Well, let’s see this child, anyhow,’ demanded Silenus, and Cyllene had no choice but to go and bring Hermes.
Meanwhile Apollo, searching far and wide, came to the further side of Mount Cyllene, and found there strange tracks just as the Satyrs had found. And while he was puzzling over them, he came upon an old man called Battus, and pointing to the tracks he questioned him:
‘There have been cows passing this way, though the tracks lead mysteriously to the grazing-ground from which they have been stolen. Tell me, old man, have you seen them, and do you know where they are?’
Battus, not recognizing Apollo, replied: ‘My son, I am old and I cannot see very well. But what I saw lately has surprised me exceedingly. Last night I was digging in my vineyard when the sun went down: and I was still there after blessed Selene had driven the Moon-chariot up into the sky. And in the silvery, shimmering light I saw, or thought I saw, a child driving a great herd of cattle. Sometimes he drove them backwards, and sometimes he pulled them after him by their tails; and he was for ever darting about them like a gleam of quick-silver. Yet on his feet he wore strange shoes made of plaited osier twigs: you can see the round marks of them over yonder.’
Apollo thanked old Battus, and hastened on the trail of the cattle, following the hoof-marks backwards now that he knew how they had been driven. Very soon he found them penned into a great cave; and though he was glad to have discovered them, his brows darkened with anger when he saw that two of them were missing.
Penning the cattle in the cave behind him, Apollo followed the tracks across Mount Cyllene, and on the further side came upon the Satyrs who were still questioning Hermes outside Maia’s cave.
‘Lord Apollo!’ cried Silenus excitedly. ‘Here’s the thief who stole your cows! This boy here! He’s the son of Zeus, so he says: but he’s a thief none the less. We’ve tracked two of the cows to this cave, and he has in his hand a piece of the skin of one of them!’
Apollo saw then that there would be trouble, so he hastily thanked Silenus and his Satyrs, gave them their reward, and sent them away.
Then he turned upon the little boy who sat, smiling innocently, in the sunshine, playing with his lyre, and said:
‘Child, tell me quickly where my cattle are, or I shall deal severely with you, and fling you down into Tartarus – even if you are indeed the son of Zeus.’
‘Brother Apollo,’ answered Hermes, looking up at the shining Immortal with big, wondering eyes, ‘why do you speak to me so harshly? And why do you come here seeking for cattle? I have not seen them: how should I even know what cows look like? I am only a baby still: I do not care for anything but sleep, and warm milk; to lie wrapped in a warm cradle, or to play with toys such as this in my hand. But if it pleases you, I will swear an oath by Styx, the Black River of Death, for I am an Immortal even as you are, and I know that Immortals cannot break that oath. Listen: by Styx I swear that none of your cows are in this cave, and that I have not set eyes on the thief who stole them!’
Then Apollo smiled at the cunning of the child Hermes, and said: ‘Surely after this your name shall be Prince of Robbers! But your clever story does not deceive me, so come quickly to Olympus, and if Zeus our father has returned, we will lay the case before him.’
He made as if to seize the child by the scruff of his neck, but before he could do so, Hermes laid his fingers gently upon the strings of his lyre and as the heavenly music swelled up, Apollo’s hand fell to his side, and he stood still in amazement and delight.
Very soon, as he listened, he forgot his anger, and thought no more about his cows. His only desire was to make such music himself, and he stretched out his hands to Hermes:
‘Give me the lyre!’ he cried, ‘and I will forgive you for the theft of my cattle, and for the two cows which you have killed. Give me the lyre, and swear that you will not steal from me again, and I will give you also my wand and make you the Herald of the Immortals, and the Guide of souls down the steep ways of death.’
As Apollo was speaking, Zeus drew near and heard all that he had said.
‘It shall be so!’ he cried in his voice of thunder. ‘Swear the oath, son Hermes, and give the lyre to Apollo. Then shall he be the Lord of Music and of all sweet songs, and the Nine Muses shall follow him and do him honour. And you, Hermes, shall be our Messenger, right welcome in the golden halls of Olympus, and kindly disposed to the mortals upon earth.’
The oath was sworn, and Apollo took the lyre and went gladly on his way to Mount Helicon, where the Muses awaited him. When he grew tired of singing, he crossed to Parnassus, the next mountain, and that became his especial dwelling-place; and he slew the great serpent called Python who lived in a cave at lovely Delphi on its lowest slope. There, later on, stood the most famous of all the temples of Apollo in Greece, and there was his Oracle at which the priestess spoke the truest prophecies of the future in all the known world.
Hermes remained for a time in Arcadia; but he did not stay many days in the cave on Mount Cyllene, though Zeus lingered there with lovely Maia. Just as he had grown to boyhood in six days, so in a very brief space of time he was full-grown, and ready to seek a wife.
He had not far to search, for in a valley near by a nymph, Dryope, tended her sheep, and Hermes loved her at first sight. But Dryope was shy, frightened of the shining youth who came wooing her, and she declared that she would only marry a shepherd.
Hermes went away, but returned in disguise, bringing with him a flock of sheep – which, doubtless, he had stolen as easily as he had the cattle of Apollo. For a long time he grazed his sheep in the rich valleys, and met Dryope there from time to time, so that they became friends, and at last she consented to marry the supposed shepherd.
All went well for them in happy Arcadia, where the Golden Age seemed still to linger. But when Dryope’s baby was born, she took one look at the child, and fled away shrieking. For the little creature had the legs and horns of a goat, and was born with a beard on his chin. All the same he was a noisy, merry, laughing child, and Hermes took him in his arms with delight, wrapped him in the soft skins of the wild hares, and carried him to Olympus.
Zeus had just returned, and he welcomed Hermes, and smiled at the strange child. All the other Immortals were pleased too with the merry little creature and they named him Pan and bade Hermes take him back to Arcadia. That was to be his chief dwelling-place, and there he was to attend to the flocks and herds, and to all wild things. When he grew older, Pan cut himself reeds in the river, and made the syrinx, the Pan-pipes, on which he played with a strange and mystical sweetness.
Zeus had little time to see how the son of Hermes would fare, for he had not been back in Olympus for long, when, looking out over the world after sundown, he beheld little sparks of light in many places; and in the daytime he saw smoke rising from the houses of newly-created men.
Then he knew that Prometheus the good Titan had disobeyed his orders and given fire to Mankind.
CHAPTER THREE
THE STORY OF PROMETHEUS
Lo, a god in the anguish, a god in the chain!
The god, Zeus hateth sore
And his gods hate again,
As many as tread on his glorified floor,
Because I loved mortals too much evermore.
AESCHYLUS
Prometheus Bound (Translated by
Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
3
After he had formed men out of the clay of Panopeus, and they had received the breath of life from Zeus, Prometheus set to work to make them something more than mere living images of the gods.
For Man as first c
reated was little better than the beasts, a poor creature, who did not know how to think or how to use the things which he saw and felt round about him. He lived in caves, ate herbs and raw meat: and when he was wounded or ill, he died because he knew nothing of medicine or surgery.
But Prometheus, the good and kind, taught men all the arts and crafts of life. He taught them how to build houses and make tools; how to plough the earth and sow the corn, how to reap it when it had grown, to thresh out the bright grains and grind them between flat stones. He showed them how to catch and tame some of the wild creatures: the dog to guard their houses and go hunting with them; the horse to draw their chariots, and the ox to pull the plough; the sheep to yield wool, and the goats’ milk which might be made into cheese.
It is said that Prometheus also gave men the power of speech, taught them the names of all things and even how to write and read.
But it was slow work, since Fire, the greatest aid, was missing. Without it meat must still be eaten raw, and tools could be made only of stone; bread could not be baked, and the house could not be warmed in winter.
Prometheus looked up at the sun, coursing across the sky in the golden chariot which Helios drove, and he sighed deeply. For he could read the future, and though much of it remained dark to him, what he could see he knew would surely happen.
Then he called to him his brother Epimetheus, who was as foolish, thoughtless, and improvident as he was wise, thoughtful, and fore-sighted.
‘My brother,’ he said. ‘You have helped me so far, and now you live as a man among men to carry on my work. You know how well I love the men whom we have made and taught – and yet you, who see only the outward aspect of everything, do not realize how deep such a love as mine can be. Listen! I must give Fire to mankind, the last and greatest of gifts. But if I do so, I shall incur the terrible wrath of Zeus… Yet even that I will endure – for so it is ordained. But I beg you to guard mankind to the best of your power, and to be very careful when I am no longer with you. Above all things, beware of any gift from Zeus.’