Favorite Greek Myths

by Bob Blaisdell

  The sons of the North Wind, though hot with the pursuit, relented, and obeyed lovely Iris.

  That evening Phineas enjoyed a wondrous meal with the Argonauts and afterwards told them of some of their dangerous adventures to come and how to avoid some of their coming trouble. “But I may not tell you everything,” said Phineas, “as the gods will not allow that.”

  One danger he warned them of was their next, the Clashing Rocks: “No one has ever made it past them! Unlike other rocks, these move from place to place, smashing into each other and sliding apart. Before you try to pass between them, send a dove from your ship, and if it makes it through alive, quickly follow—row hard, row fast.”

  The Argonauts sailed away from Phineas, thanking him for his advice. After some while, they came to the narrow straits, at the end of which they would find the Clashing Rocks. They heard the thundrous crashing before they saw the rocks, and when they saw them, the water shooting high up between them, they were terrified. They released the dove and watched it fly along the momentary passage between the immense rocks. Just as it passed through, the Clashing Rocks came together with a smash, clipping off the end of the dove’s tail feathers. But it had made it through alive, and Jason commanded his men to row like the wind. The rocks were opening out again, and the goddess Athena flew down from Olympos to give the sailors her aid. They had rowed themselves between the two rocks, but before they could get through, the backflow of water into the passage held them there, no matter how hard they rowed. A wave crashed just under them, and the men cried out. The Argo could not move!

  Athena, unseen by them, now reached out and held the sharp-cliffed rock on their left with one hand and pushed the Argo along with her other. She held the rock for only a moment before she let go and the rocks came clashing together, clipping off the tip of their carved stern. The Argo had made it!

  Athena flew back to Olympos, while the Clashing Rocks, having felt her immortal touch, remained fixed to that spot forever after.

  The Argonauts sailed on for weeks, stopping and feasting at numerous islands and coastlands, but avoiding the home of the women warriors, the daughters of Ares known as Amazons. On a distant island they met the shipwrecked sons of Phrixus, who had sailed from Colchis, the very land to which the Argonauts meant to go.

  “The gods must have brought you to us,” said Jason to Phrixus’ sons. “For as you need our help to return to Colchis, we need yours to get there so that we might ask King Aeetes for permission to take the Golden Fleece.”

  Argus, the first of Phrixus’ sons, looked worried at this news. “King Aeetes is not a pleasant man and will not likely give you permission.”

  But Peleus and the other Argonauts convinced them that Aeetes would be no danger to them, and the sons of Phrixus decided to lead them to Colchis.

  Jason was a favorite of Hera and Athena. When they thought of cold-hearted Aeetes, they decided that Jason would never be able to convince the king to allow him to take the Golden Fleece. So they asked the goddess of love, Aphrodite, to convince her naughty child Eros to help their mortal hero. Eros, who shoots the arrows that strike the hearts of lovers, agreed, and sat at Jason’s feet as he plucked his bow at Medea, Aeetes’ daughter, who was a beautiful young sorceress. Even without the help of Eros’ piercing dart, Medea might have fallen in love with Jason, who was very handsome.

  When Jason went to Aeetes to ask his consent to row up the river to the grand old oak that held the Golden Fleece, stern Aeetes said, “I grant you, Jason, my consent to fetch the Golden Fleece on one condition: you must do, young man, what I myself do for daily exercise. I yoke my bulls, those two in the pasture there. They snort fire, and their hooves are solid bronze. I then use them to plow a rocky field. And then, instead of planting grain, I plant the teeth of a dragon, which sprout on the spot as fierce, spear-carrying warriors. I kill them all. Can you do this? If not, I must ask you to leave now and never return.”

  Jason doubted his strength for such a deed, but he agreed to try.

  Little did Jason know that Medea was now more faithful to her love for him than to her father. She had a dream, and in it she imagined that the handsome sailor had not come to Colchis for a Golden Fleece but for herself, Medea. She woke and left her palace to find her loved one. Seeing him, her eyes filled with tears, her cheeks turned red, and pain shot through her neck and heart.

  “I will help you,” said Medea. “In the morning, take this charm, and melt it, and then rub it over your body. It will give you strength. Rub it on your sword and shield and spear. My father’s savage bulls will not be able to hurt you. For that one day, you will be invincible. After you yoke the bulls and plow the field and plant the dragon teeth, wait until the warriors rise up from the teeth. Toss a boulder at them, and they will go after the boulder and each other. Kill them off, and then go up the river for the Golden Fleece. It is that simple.—You will remember my help to you, won’t you?”

  “I will never forget it. And if you come with us, I shall marry you,” said Jason.

  The next morning, to the amazement of all, Jason, following Medea’s directions and using her charm on his body and weapons, yoked the flame-snorting bulls, plowed the hard ground, confused the warriors with the bouncing boulder and killed them all with his sword and spear.

  That night, Medea sneaked away from the palace and went to Jason. “Darling,” she told him, “my father means to kill the Argonauts. You must leave now and get the fleece. Take me with you, for he will soon come to know how I helped you yoke the bulls and kill the seed-grown men.”

  Jason readily obeyed and he and his men set out again on their quest. The crew rowed Jason and Medea up the river to a landing spot near the mighty oak. The lovers got out, and Medea brought Jason through the forest towards the gleaming Golden Fleece.

  A twisting, terrible snake, the fleece’s protector, shot out its tongue on seeing their approach. Its terrible head seemed to be floating towards the fearless Medea. She was a clever spell-caster, however, and she called out in her lovely, low voice to the god Sleep. Just as the snake was about to swallow Medea, Sleep dashed a misty drug in its eyes. The gape-mouthed monster yawned and in a moment was asleep.

  Jason scrambled up the oak and grabbed the Golden Fleece. He scrambled back down, and he and Medea, hand in hand, rushed back through the woods.

  The fleece was so bright it lit up the lovers as if it were a sun. When the Argonauts saw the bright light approaching, they thought that Dawn had arrived.

  A twisting, terrible snake, the fleece’s protector, shot out its tongue on seeing their approach.

  “Hurry, men!” said Jason. “Let us be off!” The Argonauts rowed out on to the river and back to sea, narrowly evading King Aeetes’ warships.

  King Aeetes had sent his ships to chase down the Argonauts, and he demanded revenge on his daughter. Before the Argonauts had got very far, so many of Aeetes’ ships blocked them, that they decided to give up Medea to Aeetes’ sons.

  At this, Medea grew angry, and Jason changed his mind, declaring that he would not give her up. And so Medea sent a message to Absyrtus, her brother, telling him she had been kidnapped, and wished to escape the Argonauts and that she would steal the Golden Fleece and return with him to their father. Absyrtus, believing her story, came to Medea from his ship. While he sat and talked to her, Jason came up from behind the innocent man and ruthlessly killed him.

  This was a terrible crime: almighty Zeus was outraged by it and swore that the Argonauts would suffer for a long time before they reached home. The Argonauts learned of Zeus’s wrath when the talking plank of the Argo told them of it.

  They sailed for weeks and came within sight of the island of the dangerous Sirens, whose lovely voices drew sailors off their course and to their deaths on the rocky shores. They would have destroyed the Argo had not Orpheus plucked sweet music from his lyre, drowning out the voices of the Sirens. After the Sirens, the Argonauts sailed beyond the menacing Scylla and Charybdis, death traps to all shi
ps, and towards the Wandering Rocks, steaming like lava. The Wandering Rocks would have tumbled up out of the sea and burned their ship had not lovely sea nymphs, at the command of Peleus’ wife Thetis, taken hold of the ship and guided it safely past.

  They next landed on the island of King Alcinous, where Jason and Medea married, spending their wedding night under the cover of the wondrous Golden Fleece. With gifts and treasures, the Argonauts set out once more.

  They were soon home. The Argonauts again saw their dear families, their wives, their loving children.

  As for Jason and Medea, their murder of Absyrtus haunted them the rest of their lives. Zeus resolved that even though they possessed the Golden Fleece and were able to bring about the death of the wicked King Pelias who had sent Jason on the quest, they were not to be happy. They ended their guilty lives far from either of their homelands.

  Orpheus and Eurydice

  Now let us hear the story of the great musician and singer Orpheus. A sad fate awaited this poet of the Argo. We know that when Orpheus sang to the tunes he played on his lyre even the muddy stones on the side of the road sat up and listened. The trees swayed in time to his music. He gave spirit to those things which have none and joy to those which have. If a man or a beast felt hot, eager anger, Orpheus’ songs would soon soothe him.

  Orpheus fell in love with Eurydice. They trembled with delight in each other’s presence and their love gave Orpheus the joy that his music gave others. They were soon married.

  It was during their honeymoon that a son of Apollo, Aristaeus, desiring Eurydice for his own, chased her. She, dashing away from the path to escape him, stepped on a snake, which bit her. She tumbled to the ground and cried for help. Aristaeus was frightened and ran away. Orpheus was terrified at her desperate call and came running to her.

  But he was too late.

  Orpheus cried. His beloved was dead! He wandered away, tears in his eyes. Even in his grief, however, Orpheus’ lyre still played beautifully and his voice still melted the hearts of stones, as well as men’s soft hearts, and his songs of sorrow made the gods weep. Zeus asked fleet-footed Hermes to go to the mortal. “Escort him alive down to Hades,” commanded Zeus through his tears. “See if my brother Hades, lord of the dead, will return Eurydice to him.”

  Hermes took Orpheus by the hand and led the way across the seas to the secret entrance of the underworld. The terrible three-headed watchdog, Cerberus, hearing Orpheus’ sweet music, lay down and sighed, and, without the faintest bark, allowed the god and his mortal guest to go past.

  Orpheus sang his mournful story to the lord and queen of the underworld, Hades and Persephone. Perhaps remembering her own sweet life above ground, Persephone had pity for Orpheus and persuaded her husband to return Eurydice’s soul to the upper world, where she could live again with her beloved.

  “Very well,” said Hades. “You go on your way, back the way you came, and Eurydice will follow. But you must not look at her until she has passed out of the underworld. If you do, she will stay here with me. You may look at her all you like once you get her above.”

  Orpheus promised not to look. As the singer proceeded through the dark, dreary caves of the underworld, followed by Eurydice, he wanted to turn and see his wonderful wife. He resisted and resisted, but the way out was so long and so winding that he feared she might get lost.

  Finally, he was so afraid that she had not been able to follow him that he slowly turned his head around to look. His eyes grew wide, and there he saw her, his dear Eurydice. He reached for her, to take her by the hand—and she began to fade and disappeared, leaving with Orpheus only the memory of her loving expression.

  He cried out, for he was now back at the entrance to the underworld. Cerberus shoved him along, out of the way, with three snarling snouts. Orpheus turned again, hoping to be allowed to return and beg for Eurydice, but Hermes held him back, and Cerberus snarled.

  Hermes led the grieving man home. Poor Orpheus’ heart for music was gone, and thereafter he lived and died alone.

  Chapter V

  The Trojan War

  WHEN THE goddess Eris, a notorious troublemaker, was not invited to the marriage of Peleus and the sea nymph Thetis (this was before Peleus’ time aboard the Argo), she created Strife. This Strife is the bad feeling that causes disputes, fights and wars.

  Outside the gates of the wedding celebration, Eris etched upon a shiny golden apple the words: “To the Most Beautiful.” She then tossed this apple out into a group of the grandest goddesses, who were, until this moment, enjoying the wedding.

  The goddesses all grabbed for the apple, and it fell. In the scuffle for it, one of the goddesses kicked it, and it landed at the feet of Zeus.

  “It’s up to you, my dear,” said Hera, Zeus’s wife, “to decide to whom that apple belongs.”

  “Yes, Zeus,” said Aphrodite.

  “Please use your wisdom, Father, and decide the matter,” said Athena, who had been born from Zeus’s forehead.

  Zeus made the wise decision to give the responsibility to Paris, a handsome young shepherd on Mount Ida, near Troy. The ladies agreed that they would submit themselves to the judgment of Paris.

  Each goddess made her case to Paris for the apple, and each, in turn, offered him gifts if he should name her the Most Beautiful.

  Queen Hera was first, and she told him, “If you choose me, you will have power and become the greatest king in the world.”

  Paris, one of the dozens of sons of King Priam of Troy, thought carefully about this offer.

  Athena came to him next and told him, “What is power? What king is powerful next to a wise man who has more than the world in his own head? If you name me the Most Beautiful, I shall make you the wisest man in the world.”

  But then Aphrodite came to him and said, “Paris, handsome one, what are you thinking about? How could you want miserable power or the wisdom that makes you aware of your own smallness and shortness of life? What more could you want than beauty—the most beautiful mortal woman in the world? If you award me the apple, you shall have her.”

  “Power is good,” he said, scratching his chin, “as is wisdom. But I agree that the love of a beautiful woman is best.” He handed Aphrodite the apple.

  The goddess of love was triumphant and her beautiful face beamed with satisfaction.

  Hera and Athena on the other hand, were angry and immediately swore revenge on Paris and his homeland Troy.

  Now the most beautiful woman in the world was none other than Helen, wife of King Menelaus of Sparta in Greece. Before she had married Menelaus, dozens of princes and kings from the Grecian islands and coastlands had gone to try to win her favor. To prevent their fighting among themselves, Helen’s father asked them each to swear to uphold the rights of whoever became her husband. When Menelaus won her hand, all the competitors swore loyalty to him should anyone try to take Helen away from him. Aphrodite now brought Paris to Menelaus’ homeland and introduced him to Helen. Helen soon found herself captivated by the stranger’s handsome face and charming words. As soon as Menelaus left the palace, she and Paris sailed away to Troy.

  It was this deed that brought on the Trojan War. Menelaus and his brother Agamemnon called on Helen’s former suitors now to help regain Helen, as they had promised to do. The spurned goddesses Athena and Hera, angry with Paris for not having given either of them the golden apple, of course took the brothers’ side.

  Each of the suitors provided armies, and, under Agamemnon’s command, met to plan their strategy at Aulis. While there, Agamemnon went out on a hunt. He shot a deer with his bow and arrow, and cheered his own masterful shot. “I am as fine a hunter as Artemis!” he declared. Now Artemis, the goddess of hunting, overheard this remark.

  “No mortal man, even as great as Agamemnon, may compare his abilities to mine!” she declared. Artemis then waited for her chance for revenge.

  When the Greeks were ready to sail, the winds would not come. The Greeks offered sacrifices. A priest came and told Agame
mnon: “You have offended Artemis. Your fleet of ships will not have wind to sail until you sacrifice your oldest daughter, Iphigenia.”

  Agamemnon was distressed at this and cursed the foolish pride that had brought on his rash words. Hoping the goddess would forgive him, he prayed and offered her the best of the many deer he and his men had killed. But Artemis would not accept these substitutes. Agamemnon sadly sent messengers home to Argos to his wife, Clytemnestra. They asked her to send Iphigenia to Aulis, saying that Agamemnon wanted her to marry a warrior.

  When Iphigenia arrived, Agamemnon explained to her his offense against the goddess and told her what Artemis had asked.

  Iphigenia bowed and said, “You must kill me, father.”

  Weeping, the sorrowful Agamemnon sacrificed his lovely daughter.

  Artemis was pacified, and she allowed the winds to return to Aulis. The Greek ships, at the cost of a terrible sacrifice, set out for Troy.

  Achilles

  The most famous and greatest warrior among the Greeks was Achilles, the son of Thetis and Peleus, the couple at whose wedding Strife was created.

  Because Achilles was the son of a mortal—Peleus—he too would be mortal. In her concern over this, Thetis brought him as a baby to the River Styx in Hades and dipped him into its waters, being careful to keep hold of him lest he drown. Touched by these waters, forever after would Achilles’ body be invulnerable—all but his heel and ankle by which his mother had grasped him.

  Thetis then returned to live in the sea, and Peleus brought his son to be raised by the wise, immortal centaur, Cheiron, who lived in a mountain cave, and who had also taught Hercules. Achilles grew up eating the meat of lions, boars and bears to make him strong and honey to make him kindly and smooth-speaking. He learned to hunt, train horses and make medicines.