Cadmus

The beginning of things is always a moment enshrined in history. The greater the thing, the greater the myth, especially for those few who founded entire civilisations, for whom myth and history can be so closely intertwined as to be nigh on indistinguishable. One such hero was Cadmus.

The Rape of Europa
Painting by Titian

Far past, in the distant mists of time, there ruled over the great city of Tyre the King Agenor and his Queen Telephassa. Under their happy and benevolent rule Tyre rose to great heights, and the the Tyrians were blessed with a formidable progeny. To the royal family were born three sons; Phoenix, Cilix and Cadmus, and a daughter, Europa. Tyre rejoiced in the splendour of each of her heirs, each magnificent to behold and strong of heart. As the four grew up, the future seemed radiant for the great city. But it was not only man and woman who admired the majesty of these four, for they, as all things, could not escape the gaze of the Olympians on high. No mere nymph, dryad or spirit, but Zeus himself, King of the all gods, became enamoured of the young princess Europa. One sun drenched day, Europa danced merrily by the ocean's edge, under the Thunderer's watchful gaze. Transfixed by her beauty, Zeus came down to the Earth as a mighty white bull, of gleaming horns and glistening coat. Europa looked up, entranced at the majestic sight before her. Laying a fair hand upon the Bull's shining mane, in a bewitching trance she dared to mount its back. Gently, the Bull turned toward the surf, and sauntered into the waves. Triumphant, Zeus spirited her beyond the horizon, glorying in his prize, as the maiden held on, taken up in the thrill of adventure, as the land fell away behind her. Never again was she to be seen again on Tyrian shores.


When word reached King Agenor's ears of his daughter's flight, he was stricken with anguish. Summoning his three sons before him, he bade each search every coast far and wide, across the world, in search of Europa, unbeknownst to him that a god's hand was at work. With ready abandon did each brother set forth in search of his sister, three directions did they depart, and in three ways did they journey, and for an endless age did they go. To the South and West did Phoenix go, after time giving his name to the land of Phoenicia. To the North did Cilix go, after time giving his name to the land of Cilicia. To the West did young Cadmus go, landing soon upon Grecian shores. Time passed and the maiden could not be found, for what mortal can pursue the Thunder god himself? Weary from ageless toil, Cadmus decided to seek out the Oracle, and know her counsel. High upon the Delphic road he thus trod, with kindred Tyrians in tow, coming to the Pythian Halls. Intoxicated by the mists of prophecy, the Oracle thus did cry:


                      " Behold among the fields a lonely cow,
                        Unworn with yokes, unbroken to the plow;
                        Mark well the place where first she lays her down,
                        There measure out thy walls, and build thy town,
                        And from thy guide Boeotia call the land,
                        In which the destin'd walls and town shall stand... "      
                             - THE ORACLE SPEAKS TO CADMUS


The Prince of Tyre was taken aback by the command of Heaven. To find his sister was to be a destiny not his, it seemed, but as the founder of a nation. No sooner had he departed the towering sanctum, pondering deep his divine mission, than he spied in the fields that sacred cow, unshackled by rope or chain, unfitted with plow. The cow raised her head and saw the Prince of Tyre. Both looked into the eyes of the other for a brief moment, before the beast turned and trod. At a distance Cadmus stalked, in silence, praying to the god whose path he followed now. Through mountain high and plain wide Prince and beast continued their strange dance, crossing the silvery rapids of the river Cephisus, when all of a sudden, the cow raised her head to on high, bellowing thrice, before turning back to gaze at he, and laying in the grass. Cadmus saw the sign, and gave thanks to on high, thanks for his destiny, thanks for the nameless place, pastures and mountains which would be the land of his progeny. Turning to his kin, he bade them seek water with all haste from living streams, so as to prepare a sacrifice to Zeus the father of men and gods. So, over the wide plain his comrades trod, for their lay in a dark vale beyond a shady wood, its boughs hanging heavy over unlit grass, pathless and thick with brambles in the scrub.

Cadmus and the Dragon
Painting by Hendrick Goltzius

Yet Death incarnate lay in the darkness of the trees. For deep in the dank forest, sacred to Ares, lord of War, a powerful dragon lay, "bloated with poison to a monstrous size; fire broke in flashes when he glanc'd his eyes: his tow'ring crest was glorious to behold, his shoulders and his sides were scal'd with gold...". The Tyrians searched wide for water in the eerie glade, and with their vessels upturned, they gathered from the stream. From side to side their urns bounded, the ripples echoing deep into the infernal pond. Upon the the wyrms's crest they crashed, rousing the beast from evil slumber. Evil stirs, and with a hiss that shrivels the skin of the very sky, the dragon rose from the stagnant pool, his many tongues flickering, his many eyes darting to and fro. The Tyrians gave a shout of fear, their urns lying, shattered, discarded, upon the soil, now their grave. The dragon, towering high into the sky, then saw trembling men in his glade, and fell upon them in a rage. To their arms some Tyrians look, but in vain, to flight from the evil glade others. But no man there would breath the fresh air again, no man live to see the destiny of their prince. Some lie broken underfoot, others devoured by the monstrous creature, their final screams masked by the roar of the wyrm's ghastly breath.


The Sun began to rise into the warm, midday sky, and Cadmus began to wonder where his comrades had got to. Impatient to commence the rites the Olympians themselves had ordained him to do, the Prince of Tyre at once set forth to search for them, casting his eyes upon the fell glade in the distance, a place where the rays of the Sun never shone. The hide of a lion he wore around his muscled form, a raised spear in his hand, but a heart of valour was his greatest arm by far. Not long did he tread in the forest's eaves before the  broken bodies of his kin his eyes did spy, the monstrous beast in their midst, feasting upon his friends, gore spattering his jaw. In a shout of rage and grief, Cadmus heaved a mighty boulder, no ten men today could lift it, weak as men are now, and hurled it at the creature. The mightiest rock flung by the mightiest engine of war never had cast so mighty a payload at a towering wall, yet harmlessly did the stone deflect from the iron scales. His slumber disturbed a second time, the dragon seared with fury, and bore down upon the Prince of Tyre with thundering haste. Undaunted, the young Prince took up his spear, taking careful aim. The strength of the greatest of men, and beyond, he put into the throw, casting the dart into creature's spine. More success this time, as the iron tip burrowed between the scales, punching into the vile flesh. A screeching hiss the serpent wailed, sending eerie chill down Cadmus' spine. The powerful body writhed and turned, and monstrous teeth closed around the shaft of wood, splintering Tyrian spear. Pain feeding his building rage, the wyrm's eyes clouded a hideous red, hate pounding in every vein, as from his mouth a putrid gale blew, spraying a lethal foam about the clearing. Plant, flower and tree all wither under its hail, but not the Prince of Tyre. Uncoiling now, the monster lunges, a torrent of power. Desperate now, Cadmus seized the ruined spear, as the serpent's jaws clamped upon the point, mixing blood and venom raw. Not a moment to spare, the Prince dived behind a tree, as the mighty trunk deflects his foe's strike. Seizing his chance, Cadmus took the shattered point and thrust it will all his might and will to live, deep into the creature's throat. Labouring hard for breath, the accursed wyrm writhed in a final agony, crashing to the dust, lifeless as stone.

Cadmus sows the Dragon's Teeth
Painting by Maxfield Parrish

Not a moment did young Cadmus have to relish his triumph before a terrible voice roared throughout the dale, the voice of a god. "Why dost thou thus with secret pleasure see, insulting man! What thou thy self shalt be?" With horror chill did the Prince of Tyre realise, the voice of Ares, god of war himself, thundered all around, in anger at the slaying of his sacred beast. It was then that Athena, lady of wisdom, soared down from the Olympian heights, favouring the innocent Prince. Quickly, she bade him act, plow the field and scatter the teeth of the dragon as though the seed of a crop, for from them shall arise the people of his new city. Confused, but piously obedient, Cadmus obeyed. Plowing the field, and readying the seed, the Prince bent low over the wyrm's lethal teeth, wrenching them from the scaly cadaver:


       " He sows the teeth at Pallas' command,
         And flings the future people from his hand.
         The clods grow warm, and crumble where he sows;
         And now the pointed spears advance in rows;
         Now nodding plumes appear, and shining crests,
         Now the broad shoulders and the rising breasts;
         O'er all the field the breathing harvest swarms,
         A growing host, a crop of men and arms "
               - CADMUS SOWS THE DRAGON'S TEETH

To his utter amazement, the furrowed ground churned, and from the teeth of the dragon, fully armed and fierce men sprang. As the warlike men began to seek out their creator, Cadmus, wary of their bloodlust, cast a stone in their midst. It struck one of the men, who immediately rounded on his comrade to his rear, believing him to be the culprit, and struck him cold dead to the floor. Consternation broke out in the battalion of the Teeth, as brother turned against brother, and blood ran in torrents, the evil glad awash with gore anew.  Soon, all but five had been slain, and in that moment, Pallas Athena stayed their hands, and at her command, their arms to the ground did fall, as they embraced the way of peace. Before them now did the Prince of Tyre appear, and call each man his brother, and at last he set about the business of raising his great city. Thebes, the city would be called, and Cadmus her King, and the five men the fathers of the great noble families. Raising a high cliff in the city's heart, they named it for their founder, the Cadmeia (which you can visit today if you go to ancient Thebes), and thus began the days of Thebes, and the Royal House of Cadmus.

Long did Cadmus reign in peace, and to him the gods gave a wife, Harmonia, a symbol of new concordance between men and gods. Yet there was one in their midst who reeled with spite, proud Ares, his anger great still at the desecration of his sacred beast. Upon Cadmus and his progeny he placed a terrible curse. Ever after the Royal House of Thebes was plagued by misfortune. The grandson of Cadmus, Actaeon (whose own downfall you can read about here), and many generations later, his descendant Laius (whose fate you can read of here), father of Oedipus, would feel the curse's wrath. Many long years later, Cadmus ripe with age lamented the ill omens that plagued his family, raising his head to the Heavens. If the gods troubled so over the life of a serpent, he would rather be one himself than a mortal man. Upon him pity fell, and granted was his wish. Before his very eyes his skin was as scales, his teeth as fangs, his legs a whipping tail. His beloved Harmonia upon him gazed, imploring the gods to spare her pain of separation from him. To her too the gods gave their gift, and in a flash she too slithered upon the ground, freed from the evils of man and their ways forever...

What happened to Europa, you might ask? Zeus the Thunderer spirited her away to the island of Crete, and upon those radiant shores he revealed his true form. To the stars he flung his Bull like form, and the constellation Taurus was thus born. Upon Europa's head the crown of Crete the god did place, but greater still was to be her legacy. For even today the Continent of Europe bears her name...


United Kingdom

Metamorphoses:
Metamorphoses: A New Verse Translation (Penguin Classics)
(The Source for many of the myths of ancient lore, written by a Roman poet)

United States

Metamorphoses:

Metamorphoses (Penguin Classics)
(The Source for many of the myths of ancient lore, written by a Roman poet)

The Hounds of Actaeon

There were times, in the lore of the ancient world, when the gods and goddesses rewarded the benevolent, humbled the proud, cursed the wicked and blessed the pure. Yet the gods could succumb just as readily to the passions and impulses of nature as the mortals they ruled over. In the order of the Cosmos, there were and will always be casualties of imbalance, and pure misfortune. One such man, who tragically suffered so, was Actaeon.

Diana - the Lady of the Hunt
Painting by Titian

King Cadmus, founder of the great city of Thebes and hero of his people, had enjoyed a wondrous life. Now in his old age, he watched his grandsons mature to adulthood, and nothing gave him more joy, especially when it came to his favourite - Actaeon. But alas, that ancient maxim cannot be forgotten, "Call no man happy until he is dead" (for the story behind this saying, please click here). For such a tragedy there scarcely was when the grandson of Cadmus fell afoul of chance. Actaeon had grown into a strong young man, handsome, and skilled in the pursuits of men. Indeed, more than anything else, he was impressively skilled as a hunter. His fellow men marvelled at the vast array of game he could bring back in one ride, many times more than any of them. Though he triumphed so often through his immense prowess, it was the strong bond that Actaeon shared with his beloved dogs which set him apart. He knew each of their names, and each of their talents. First there was Blackfoot, always the first to sound out their quarry. Then there was Tracker, bred on Crete, who never missed a scent. Of Wingdog too, no there was no swifter hound than he. White as the snow on the high mountains was the coat of Sheen, and black as night was the body of Soot. Such a din there was when Yelper let out his bark, verily did one's eardrums shake! Poor Sylvan, a valiant beast but limping now, a savage boar had gored his flank. Then came Harpy with her puppies, eager to serve. Blacklock too, first to maul their chosen quarry, followed by Beast-Killer and Mountain-Boy, who never desisted from their prey. Never before has man and beast bonded so closely as Actaeon and his dogs. As one, they were a match for the lady Diana herself, chaste goddess of the hunt.


One day, as the chariot of the Sun god rode high in the Heavens, far below in the wooded glades rode Actaeon and his gathered friends. The morning had been kind. The hunters' party had an impressive array of game, though of course, none eclipsed Actaeon's. The day grew late and soon the mighty Actaeon called a halt to the day's chase. The nets were soaked and their spears wet with blood. His faithful dogs, delighted to have caught so many for their master, wagged their tails eagerly, keen for a morsel when they returned home. Actaeon's friends laughed merrily at the thought of the magnificent feast that was sure to come that night, and bent down to pack away the panoply of the hunt.

Actaeon stumbles upon Diana
Painting by Titian

But the towering man himself decided to take a stroll in the pleasant late-afternoon sun. The falling sun was just bursting through the trees, its golden touch cast on the dappled forest floor. It all seemed so quiet, so tranquil, that Actaeon kept walking on. Soon, the serene silence was weakened. A strange, ethereal sound drifted through the trees. It was a little while before Actaeon recognised it as the sound of song, the sound of women singing not far ahead. He could not explain why he followed it, there was just something about it, so beautiful and pure, that he felt compelled to follow. Imagine, if you can, a secret valley, alive with bushy pine and towering cypress, holding a tranquil lake in their leafy embrace. No man had ever come here; all was as Gaia had first made it, pure from the mightiest trunk to the smallest droplets of water on the tips of the leaves. It was here that the lady Artemis and her maids came to bathe. Diana, the goddess of the moon, childbirth and the hunt, was fiercely chaste. Many a god had sought her hand in marriage, such was the beauty of the daughter of Zeus and the Titaness Leto, but she scorned them all. It was here, in the shade of the forest, that the goddess, weary from the hunt, would come to rest her weary limbs. Handing her bow and quiver to her maidens, she stepped into the perfectly calm water, while others unrobed her. Taking her golden hair in her hands, her nymphs gently poured urns of water over her head. This was the scene which the grandson of Cadmus stumbled upon.

Actaeon's tragic end
Painting by Titian

Unsure of where he was, this was unfamiliar forest to him, Actaeon rounded the clearing and then, he saw it all. For a moment he could not move, so stunned by the sight was he. Never before had he seen such beauty, and no matter how great he tried, he could not turn his eyes from this forbidden scene. For just a moment, there was blissful peace. But then, aware of the presence of a man, a terrible scream rent the air. The nymphs bounded forward, frantically reaching for their mistress' clothes. They surrounded her, shielding her from view, but the daughter of Zeus, alas was taller by far than they. Her blushing cheeks red as the setting sun, shock and fury mingled in her immortal form. Fury that her bow was not to hand, fury that she could not slay the intruder with a murderous arrow. Desperate now, Actaeon tried to find something to say, to express his sincere sorrow, for truly he was, but the great huntress gave him not a chance. Words cannot describe the terror poor Actaeon felt as he gazed into those merciless eyes, but worse was yet to come. In a flash, the unstoppable goddess took up a handful of water from the peaceful pool, and hurled it in Actaeon's face:


                          " Now you may tell the story of seeing Diana naked -
                             if storytelling is in your power! "
                                                  - THE CURSE OF DIANA


Panic flooded over Actaeon as a towering wave, as his body convulsed violently. A stabbing pain, and as he placed his sorry head in his hands, he felt to his horror two stumps growing rapidly out of his head. His neck began to stretch itself outward painfully, and his ears lurched into points. In his humility he looked down, and saw his once powerful feet harden and shrink before his eyes, now cloven to a point. Coarse fur rent its way through his flesh, until soon all his body was enveloped in a mighty coat. Then the huntress filled his mind with thoughts only of flight, and verily did Actaeon run. With a speed most extraordinary, the grandson of Cadmus bounded to a nearby pool, and gazed within its glassy waters. Gone was the handsome face of Actaeon, instead, the head of a mighty stag. The terrible realisation dropped like a stone. The vengeful goddess had made him into a beast. Tears streaming from his eyes, poor Actaeon moaned "Oh, dear god!", but no words came from within,  strange sounds and deep grunts instead.

Diana and Actaeon
Painting by Francesco Albani

Frantically, Actaeon thought of what to do, but each plan seemed helpless. Go back to the palace? But he could not speak, how would tell them what had transpired in that wretched glade? Or hide in the woodland? But to live forever as a beast, and know only melancholy forever more? "He wavered in fearful doubt". It was then that Actaeon knew the meaning of terror. For the silence of the wood was broken once again. This time, however, it was not a beautiful sound. Barking. Dogs barking. Hunting dogs barking. His dogs barking. Actaeon recognised at once the cry of Yelper, and it was the cry that betrayed that Tracker had caught a scent. The scent of prey. Frantically, Actaeon took to flight from his dearest friends, his friends who now spelled his doom. "Stop! It is I, Actaeon, your master. Do you not know me?", he cried in vain. But all that was heard was his desperate baying, drowned under the roar of the hunt. As he sprinted for his very life, he felt it. Sharp teeth sank into his neck, as Blacklock was first onto his prey. Then came Beast-Killer and Mountain-Boy. Moaning with agony under his wounds, his majestic body crashed into the ground, as the hounds pinned their own master. Just then, human voices. His breath giving away, Actaeon called out in vain hope, pleading to his friends. It was his friends, shouting in exultation at the magnificent stag they had caught. "Actaeon! Actaeon!... Why aren't you here, you indolent man, to enjoy the sight of this heaven-sent prize?" With that, his spirit broken at last, so passed Actaeon grandson of Cadmus, as his beloved hounds tore at his mortal form, eager to bring back another catch for their beloved master...

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Metamorphoses: A New Verse Translation (Penguin Classics)
(A classic Roman epic poem, which has a good blend of readability and poetic meter)

Oxford World's Classics:
Metamorphoses (Oxford World's Classics)
(A classic Roman epic poem, which is charmingly archaic, but possibly too much so for some - choose if you like poetry of the 'old ways')

United States

Penguin Classics:
Metamorphoses (Penguin Classics)
(A classic Roman epic poem, which has a good blend of readability and poetic meter)

Oxford World's Classics:

Metamorphoses (Oxford World's Classics)
(A classic Roman epic poem, which is charmingly archaic, but possibly too much so for some - choose of you like poetry of the 'old ways')

The First Labours of Heracles

Standing high amongst all the heroes of Classical lore, and possessed of one of the most famous names in civilisation, is Heracles. Son of Zeus, slayer of countless fierce monsters, towering of stature, founder of cities and raised to godhood, the answer to why his name has emerged from the ravages of time unscathed is not easily forgotten. The name of Heracles will always be associated with the famous Twelve Labours, daunting and formidable tasks worthy of testing the potential of a man to become a god. Let us then look to the beginnings of the adventures, and the first labours of Heracles.

Heracles strangles the Serpents
Sculpture in the Capitoline Museums, Rome.

There was once a mortal man named Amphitryon, who lived with his wife Alcmene in the grand city of Thebes (the kingdom of Oedipus, for more please click here). But the King of gods and men, Zeus the Thunderer, was ever the ceaseless philanderer, and his eyes had found Alcmene. One time, when Amphitryon went away to war, the god came down to Earth, slowing the passage of time, so that the night grew long and the slumber of mortals endured. Assuming the shape of Amphitryon, Zeus entered the house and deceived Alcmene into believing her husband had returned from the war at last, as the two embraced. The following day, Amphitryon himself returned to Thebes. Yet his wife did not greet him with the enthusiasm he expected. Upon questioning her, she revealed in utter confusion that he had of course returned last night and that she had conceived by him. Suspecting divine play at hand, Amphitryon consulted the blind seer Tiresias, who revealed that Alcmene bore twins, one the son of Amphitryon, the other the seed of Zeus. Furious at her husband's repeated affairs, Hera, Queen of the gods, planned a torturous future for his extramarital offspring. When the boys were born, the son of Amphitryon was named Iphicles, and the son of Zeus, so that Hera might be appeased, was named Heracles, a name which means 'The Glory of Hera'. Far from being sated, the goddess raged at the insult. Hera sent forth from Olympus two serpents to the cot of Heracles, commanding them to strangle the infant. Shrieking at the sight, Alcmene cried out for Amphitryon to help, but upon looking back at the infant's cot, saw Heracles playing with the lifeless bodies of the snakes, whose lifeforce he had crushed with his bare hands.

Raised as one of their own by Amphitryon and Alcmene, Heracles learned the ways of the bow, the sword and the lyre, and soon surpassed all peers in his size and near boundless strength:


                 " The mere sight of him was enough to show that he was a son of Zeus:
                    for his body measured four cubits, a fiery gleam shone in his eyes,
                    and he never missed his mark with his arrows or javelins... "
                                                                      - THE STATURE OF HERACLES


Serving his adoptive father loyally in the fields, tending to the cattle in the mountain pastures, one day two nymphs came to the son of Zeus. They were Pleasure and Virtue, and they prophysied a momentous choice that lay before Heracles. Either he could lead a simple and easy life, or one of toil but boundless glory. A proud son of the greatest of gods, the hero chose the latter. Not long after, the Minyans, another Greek people, marched upon Thebes in arms, resolved to destroy the great city in war. Amphitryon fell in the battle, and in a rage, Heracles lead the Thebans to a fresh assault, unleashing his fury upon the Minyans, slaying many and putting them to flight. Men looked on in awe at the feats of Heracles.

As a prize for his valour, King Creon of Thebes presented to Heracles his own eldest daughter, Megara, and his younger to Iphicles. Megara gave to Heracles three sons; Therimachos, Creontides and Deicoon. The gods, too, gave gifts to the hero. The sun god Apollo gave to him a bow and quiver, such that he would never miss a target.  Hermes gave a sword, Athena a robe and Hephaestus forged a breastplate of gold for the glory of Hera. But the wrath of Hera would not be so easily abated. The vengeful goddess sent a madness to descend over Heracles' eyes. The hero writhed in the agony of his mind, blind to those all around. In his writhings, Heracles murdered his own children and two of Iphicles' too. Coming to his senses, deepest shame welled up inside Heracles at what he had done. Tormented by his unholy crime, Heracles went into exile from Thebes, coming to the Oracle of Delphi for purification. Little did he know that the words of the Oracle could be influenced by Hera. The Oracle spoke, and pious Heracles listened. She commanded the hero to journey to the court of King Eurystheus (who was the grandson of Perseus, for more about him please click here) in the mighty walled city of Tiryns, and serve the King for ten years, and complete any task that may be assigned to him, and upon completion of his service, he would be granted immortality.

Heracles slays the Lion of Nemea
Painting by Rubens.

Journeying to the city of Tiryns, Heracles came before Eurystheus. Under the sway of Hera, the King crafted a series of impossible tasks, such that no ordinary man could ever accomplish. For his first task, Eurystheus ordered, Heracles was to bring to him the skin of the Lion of Nemea. This monster was no ordinary lion. One of the dread offspring of Typhon and Echidna (for more about them, please click here), the Nemean Lion was invulnerable to the weapons of man. Its hide was impervious to spear, sword and arrow. Heracles arrived in Nemea, and soon found the creature, which terrorised the local people. Taking up Apollo's bow, Heracles loosed an arrow at the Lion, hoping for an easy victory. The arrow however, simply bounced off the monster's hide. Fashioning a club from a nearby tree, the hero tried to strike the monster, but it too was in vain. The Lion retreated to a cave in the mountains, so Heracles walled up one exit, leaving one cave mouth open. Venturing inside, the two powerful beings launched themselves at each other, the Lion's roar shaking the plains as Heracles grappled with the beast. Heracles throttled the Nemean Lion, using his own Titan strength to crush the beast's neck. Finding his knife unable to flay the body of it even in death, Heracles could only cut the monster's hide with its own claws. Wearing the hide around him as a cloak, Heracles journeyed back to Tiryns.

Heracles slays the Lernaean Hydra
Painting by Antonio del Pollaiolo.

Shocked by Heracles' prowess, Eurystheus hid inside the walls, forbidding Heracles entry to the city, fearing his might. Angered by the hero's success, Eurystheus decreed a second task, sure to prove too great this time. The King ordered Heracles to slay the infamous Hydra of Lernaea, a hideous monster which emerged from the swamps of Lerna to devastate the plains, slaughtering cattle and humans alike. Another of the fearsome brood of Typhon and Echidna, the Hydra was a vast creature, crowned with nine heads, each dribbling toxic poison. Eight of the beast's heads were mortal, but the ninth was invulnerable. Treading cautiously, Heracles, along with his nephew Iolaos, discovered the monster's lair near the springs of Amymone, hurling flaming brands to make the creature emerge. Emerge it did, and the hero hurled himself at it, grasping hold of the monster's trunk. The Hydra slithered its tails around his leg and began to squeeze, as Heracles drew forth his mighty club and swung down with all his might, striking with such force that one of the beast's many heads flew through the air, severed from its giant body. To the hero's despair, however, two new heads sprouted forth from the scaly stump. Retreating to rethink, Heracles called upon Iolaos to help. Attacking once more, as Heracles struck off the monster's heads, he ordered Iolaos to burn the stumps with a torch to prevent the creature regenerating. With one last almighty strike, Heracles severed the final head. But the head could not die, for it was blessed with immortality. So Heracles used his mighty strength to lift a huge boulder high, burying the monstrous head beneath it, so that it might never strike out again. Moving over the huge body, Heracles dipped his arrows in the creature's blood, which ran with lethal venom, sure that more fierce beings were yet to come on his adventures. Taking himself back to Eurystheus, Heracles was enraged to hear the King refuse to accept the validity of his task. Secretly furious that Heracles still lived, the King decreed that the slaying of the Hydra did not count, since the Hero had required the help of Iolaos to slay the beast. More labours were yet to come, but now Heracles was truly alone...

Revered by the Greeks, worshipped in the West and imitated by more than one Roman Emperor, the stories of the toils and hardships endured by Heracles have been told for not just centuries, but millennia. In coming posts we shall return to the adventures of Heracles, ever relentless in his quest for immortality and redemption. The stories of this great hero are scattered wide through the literature of Greece and Rome, but a good narrative may be found in the work of Apollodorus, a tome easily available from Amazon:

United Kingdom

The Library of Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A vast collection of stories of old Greece, written and compiled in ancient times)

United States

The Library of Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A vast collection of stories of old Greece, written and compiled in ancient times)

The Fall of Oedipus

We return today to the saga of Oedipus, the beleaguered King of Thebes (for the previous and first episode of the story, please click here). Having received word from the sacred Oracle at Delphi, King Oedipus discovered that in order for Apollo to lift the plague which stalks the streets of Thebes, he must hunt down and cast out the murderer of King Laius, Oedipus' predecessor. Vowing to exile the culprit himself, Oedipus embarked upon a campaign of discovery, piecing together the events surrounding his rise to the throne (when the Oracle had decreed that Oedipus would kill his own father and be wed to his own mother), and the murder of Laius. The blind prophet Tiresias denounced Oedipus himself as the murderer, much to the latter's disgust, yet Queen Jocasta sought to sooth her King's pain by reassuring him that Laius was killed at a crossroads by robbers, so it could not possibly have been Oedipus. Or could it?

The Corinthian lands
Photograph by the author.

Whilst urgently awaiting the arrival of the sole survivor of the massacre which took the life of Laius, Oedipus grows more and more agitated. Memories of his old life flood his mind, as his thoughts race, twist and turn to the time when he himself walked the road from Delphi to Thebes, and was himself assailed at a crossroads. Jocasta says that Laius was killed “at a place where three roads meet”, which reminds him all too ominously of where Oedipus slew that vulgar man and his entourage. Oedipus asks Jocasta to describe Laius:

                                    “ He was swarthy...

                                      And the gray had just begun to streak his temples,

                                      And his build... wasn’t far from yours... ”

                                                  - JOCASTA DESCRIBES LAIUS

Terror floods Oedipus, perhaps that blind seer could see? Just as he is about to resign himself to have fulfilled Apollo's terrible curse, a messenger suddenly arrives from Corinth. He tells Oedipus that his father, King Polybus is now dead, and that he is the rightful King of Corinth! Oedipus quickly demands to know how he died, was it murder? Sickness? What? Old age, the messenger assures him. Jocasta is relieved, there surely, is proof that the prophecy was false after all? Oedipus recovers a little of his former confidence. If it is as Jocasta and this man say, then he is in the clear.

The Messenger with the infant Oedipus
Sculpture by Antoine-Denis Chaudet.

Rejoicing in the news, Oedipus tells the messenger that he must not face Queen Merope of Corinth, his mother, for the second line of the prophecy could still, however dreadful, come to pass. "What prophecy is this?", the messenger asks. Oedipus repeats the fateful verse, that he is fated to murder his father and be wed to his mother. "Why don't I rid you of that old worry now?" says the messenger. So the messenger begins his story, that once as a young man whilst tending his flocks in the mountain pastures of Mount Cithaeron, a stranger gave to him an infant. An infant whose ankles were painfully bound. Oedipus remembers the deformity in his own feet that had plagued his movement for as long as he could remember. That baby was given by the messenger to King Polybus, who adopted it as his own, and raised him as his own son. Who gave this baby to him? Another shepherd, the messenger remembers, a servant "he called himself a servant of... if I remember lightly - Laius". Jocasta sharply turns to the messenger, "the king of the land who ruled here long ago?". "That's the one", he assures her. Upon asking his court if anyone knows of this servant, they reply that he is in fact the same man who survived the attack at the place where three roads meet, whom Oedipus has sent for. Jocasta, dread realisation spreading through her, begs Oedipus to call off his investigation, for his own sake. Oedipus is adamant, he must discover the truth. He vowed before the gods themselves that he would cast out Laius' murderer, and he alone can do so. Ordering the servant to speed his way to the court, Queen Jocasta runs screaming to her bedroom, bemoaning the "man of agony" that is her son.

An old shepherd is brought to the palace, reluctantly coming before King Oedipus. The messenger from Corinth is exultant, "He's your man!" he tells Oedipus. Oedipus questions him closely, did he truly hand over a baby to the messenger? "What? Why rake that up again?" the shepherd wails. Desperatedly trying to evade questioning and revealing the truth, the shepherd screams for Oedipus to ask no more. Threatening him with torture, Oedipus forces him to go on. "Queen Jocasta gave the infant to me", he despairs. Oedipus asks why she would do this. Out of fear of a prophecy, the shepherd responds, "they said - he'd kill his parents...". But why did the shepherd give the infant to this Corinthian? "I pitied the little baby, master", he could not bear to leave it to die on the harsh mountain slopes, and hoped it would receive a better lot in life far away in a distant land. Realisation of the whole truth, the terrible truth, that he had been a pawn of the gods his whole life, now one dreadful curse, Oedipus chokes on the fact that his father was slain by his own hand and that his four children were sprung from his own mother and wife:

      

                  “ O god -

                    all come true, all burst to light!

                    O light - now let me look my last on you!

                    I stand revealed at last -

                    cursed in my birth, cursed in marriage,

                    cursed in the lives I cut down with these hands! ”

                                           - THE TERRIBLE TRUTH STRIKES OEDIPUS

Hurtling back into the depths of his palace, Oedipus curses his fate with a great cry. The courtiers all despair at how the Fates can fell even the greatest of men, remembering the old days when Oedipus had saved them all from the Sphinx, only now to taint the land with his terrible curse. A shout echoes from within the palace - Queen Jocasta has hanged herself. Oedipus breaks into her chamber howling with rage. Bellowing at the guards to bring him a sword so that he too might die, he circles the body of his wife and mother. Changing his mind, Oedipus tears two brooch pins from his mothers corpse. Holding them high, and looking straight down the sharp pins, he thrusts them into his eyes. As the dark blood flows from his sockets, Oedipus cries:

               

                 “ You,

                    You'll see no more the pain I suffered, all the pain I caused

                    Too long you looked on the ones you never should have seen,

                    blind to the ones you longed to see, to know! Blind

                    from this hour on! Blind in the darkness - blind! ”

                                         - OEDIPUS DRIVES THE PINS INTO HIS EYES



Oedipus in Exile
Painting by Fulchran-Jean Harriet.

 Emerging slowly from the palace, led by a boy, the blinded Oedipus begs Creon, his uncle and brother-in-law, to enact the decree which Oedipus himself laid out, and exile him. Creon vows to consult the gods to ask what to do, but Oedipus is relentless, he must go. Hearing sobbing behind him, Oedipus turns and hears the voices of Antigone and Ismene, his daughters yet also his sisters. Weeping for them to have been born into such an accursed family, Oedipus begs Creon to look after them, a promise Creon makes. Oedipus offers his hand to Creon, who swiftly backs away, loath to touch the polluted man. Resigned to despair, Oedipus sets out on the road once again, this time a cursed exile, destined to be despised by gods and men for the rest of his days.

So ends Oedipus the King, the first episode of the Three Theban Plays. Regarded as a master stroke of dramatic storytelling, and a model for all future tragedies even in ancient times, the story of Oedipus and his progeny is as potent today as it ever was before. As clichéd as 'on the edge of your seat drama' has become today, this is what started that very sentiment. The story of Oedipus is very easily available, for a nominal price from Amazon. I strongly urge you to give them a go:

United Kingdom

The Three Theban Plays (Oedipus the King, Antigone and Oedipus at Colonus):
The Three Theban Plays (Penguin Classics)
(A masterpiece. Accessible, readable, enjoyable)

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A much later book of mythology, containing the backstory of Oedipus)

United States

The Three Theban Plays (Oedipus the King, Antigone and Oedipus at Colonus):
The Three Theban Plays: Antigone; Oedipus the King; Oedipus at Colonus
(A masterpiece. Accessible, readable, enjoyable)

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A much later book of mythology, containing the backstory of Oedipus)

Oedipus the King

Some men were born to suffer. One such man was Oedipus. No matter how noble your heart, how skilled in war, how quick of wit or how reverent toward the skies, the gods cared nothing if you harboured pride within your soul. The gods were fickle. One moment you could be a broken pauper, another a great king, the most admired man in town, to an accursed blight on the land. This is the story of such a man.

Oedipus and the Sphinx
Painting by François-Xavier Fabre

One day, the young prince Oedipus hears a drunk man at a banquet shout at him that he is not the true son of King Polybus and Queen Merope of Corinth. Angered by the man's ill words, Oedipus questions the King and Queen, who are enraged at the accusation and the foolish man who spread it. Though reassured by their words, the slander and rumours spread, and Oedipus decides to make sure, setting off  with a limp (caused by an injury to his feet he could not remember) on the road to Delphi - the centre of the world and home to Apollo's most holy Oracle. Asking the priestess of the sanctuary if the rumours are true, Oedipus was horrified by her response. "You are fated to couple with your mother, you will bring a breed of children into the light no man can bear to see - you will kill your father, the one who gave you life!" Revulsion and terror coursing through his frame, Oedipus fled the sanctuary, and so that the terrible prophecy may never come to pass, Oedipus resolves never to return to Corinth and the court of his mother and father. Taking to the road, running, burdened with shame, Oedipus comes to a crossroads, where a wagon approaches, within which several people ride. Ordering the saddened man to make way, one of the men moves to strike Oedipus with his sceptre. Angered by this insult, Oedipus lashes out and fells the man and his companions, all but for one who escapes. Following the road onward, just before reaching the city of Thebes, a strange sight greets the eyes of Oedipus - a creature with the haunches of a lion, the wings of an eagle and the face and chest of a woman. A Sphinx, one of the dread brood of Typhon and Echidna (for more on this, click here), guarding the road to Thebes. The Thebans had once heard an oracle that they would be freed of the Sphinx if they could answer her riddle, and so many had debated and attempted to answer. All attempts so far had failed, and the Sphinx had slain and devoured all those who had failed to answer her riddle. The Sphinx now fixed Oedipus with her murderous stare and posed the cryptic question:

                “ What speaks with one voice, walks with four feet in the morning,

                   Two at midday and three in the evening? ”

                                    - THE RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX                                                

Boldly confident and possessed of a sharp intellect, Oedipus replies:

                “ A man, for he is four footed as a baby when he crawls on all fours,

                  two footed as an adult and takes on a third limb as a walking stick in old age. ”

                                    - OEDIPUS SOLVES THE RIDDLE

Furious that her scheme was unveiled, the Sphinx hurls herself from her rock to her death. The Thebans rejoice, and hail Oedipus as their saviour, rewarding him with their throne and the hand of their Queen Jocasta, whose husband King Laius had recently been killed.

The Plague of Thebes
Painting by Charles François Jalabert.

One day, many years later, plague once again strikes the city of Thebes. The people suffer and die. A priest ventures to the palace of Thebes, to the court of King Oedipus and Queen Jocasta, and their two daughters, Antigone and Ismene, and their two sons, Eteocles and Polynices. Begging for Oedipus to save the Theban people once again, the priest see the concern in his King's eyes. Oedipus expresses sorrow for the lot of the people, and reveals he had already sent his brother-in-law, Creon, to the sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi to determine how they are to be rid of this pestilence, and that even now he awaits his return. Just then, Creon returns, bearing grave news. Asking to go inside and discuss it privately, Oedipus joyfully rebukes him, telling him to reveal the god's words here, in front of the people and before him, for after all, it was he and he alone who saved the people from the Sphinx and he vows to do so again. Creon reveals that Apollo demands that the killer of King Laius, who was murdered shortly before Oedipus's arrival, be brought to justice. Vowing to bring divine wrath upon the culprit and cursing him for the plague he spreads, Oedipus enquires as to Laius' murder. "He went to consult an oracle, Apollo said, and he set out and never came home again", Creon tells him. Was there no one who saw this most heinous crime? asked King Oedipus. "No, they were all killed but one", came the reply, and word that the lone survivor had fled in terror, claiming they had been ambushed by robbers. Calling himself Apollo's champion, Oedipus declares that he will not stop in his pursuit of the truth.

Promising that if the culprit comes forward, he will face only exile, Oedipus sends for the blind prophet Tiresias, through whom the visions and knowledge of Apollo flow. Oedipus asks him what he knows of Laius' killer and the blind prophet trembles, begging the King to allow him to go. But quick-witted Oedipus bids him stay and tell all he knows. When the prophet stubbornly refuses to speak, Oedipus' temper begins to wear, shouting at Tiresias for allowing the city to fall to doom. Accusing Tiresias himself of slaying Laius, the prophet then cracks, and speaks in anger:

                              “ Is that so!

                                I charge you, then, to submit to that decree

                                You just laid down: from this day onward

                                Speak to no one, not these citizens, not myself.

                                You are the curse, the corruption of the land! ”

                                              - TIRESIAS NAMES OEDIPUS AS THE MURDERER

The Road to Delphi
Photograph by the author.

Furious at his unfounded charge, Oedipus sends the old prophet away, mocking his blindness. Tiresias turns to him, "I pity you, flinging at me the very insults each man here will fling at you so soon". Ridiculing Oedipus' accusation that he is plotting against the throne, the blind prophet tells the King not to forget his words, and departs. Still reeling with anger, and suspicious of all around him, Oedipus turns to greet his Queen, Jocasta, who enters. Asking her husband what is wrong, Oedipus tells her of Tiresias' words. Her face relaxing, Jocasta smiles and begs Oedipus be reassured. A long time ago, she tells him, an oracle came to Laius, declaring that "doom would strike him down at the hands of a son", but Laius was killed by robbers on his way to Delphi "at a place where three roads meet". Not only that, Laius ordered his infant son's feet bound, and the baby cast onto the mountainside, abandoned to die. "There you see? Apollo brought neither thing to pass", Jocasta assures Oedipus. But Oedipus's mind was racing, he had always limped from a forgotten injury, and "a place where three roads meet", that couldn't possibly be the crossroads where he had been assailed by that vile man could it? But the messengers had said Laius was set upon by robbers, not just one man. Quickly asking Jocasta if the man who escaped the murder still lives, she confirms that he does, though far away. Oedipus sends for the man with all haste. Everything depends on his confirmation that there was more than one robber, he thought. If he confirms his old story, his conscience can rest. But if he doesn't, the consequences could be terrible. The fate of Oedipus hung in the balance...

Oedipus the King, widely renowned and lauded as the greatest tragedy ever written, both by contemporaries and modern critics alike, is a masterpiece of theatre. Winning first prize in the theatrical festival in Athens when it was first staged in ancient times, it is the perfect study in tension, drama and suspense. The first act of a grand trilogy, the powerful story of the House of Oedipus is epic indeed. In future posts, we will continue with the saga, from Oedipus' frantic inevstigations to its bitter end. The Trilogy, known as The Three Theban Plays is easily available, at a good price, from Amazon. Read them. They're pretty good.

United Kingdom

The Three Theban Plays (Oedipus the King, Antigone and Oedipus at Colonus):
The Three Theban Plays (Penguin Classics)
(A masterpiece. Accessible, readable, enjoyable)

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A much later book of mythology, containing the backstory of Oedipus)

United States

The Three Theban Plays (Oedipus the King, Antigone and Oedipus at Colonus):
The Three Theban Plays: Antigone; Oedipus the King; Oedipus at Colonus
(A masterpiece. Accessible, readable, enjoyable)

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A much later book of mythology, containing the backstory of Oedipus)