Legendary Passages - Greek/Roman Myths Legendary Passages

 Legendary Passages #0118, Philostratus the Elder,  Imagines Book 2, Image 2, Centaurs & Hippolytus. Previously, Theseus fought a war against the centaurs, and cursed his son Hippolytus to an early death. In this passage, we hear descriptions of the education of Achilles by the centaur Chiron, female centaurs and their foals, and the tragic fate of Hippolytus.  The first image is that of the boy Achilles, fated to fight and die in the Trojan War. He is an athletic boy being trained by the centaur Chiron, like many heroes before him. Chiron lets the boy ride on his back to teach him horse-riding, and rewards his efforts with apples and honey. The second image is of pretty centaur mares, their beauty comparable to Naiad mermaids or the horse-riding amazons. Their babies are born fairly human, eventually sprouting manes and their feet becoming tender hooves, turning wild at a young age. The last image shows the end of Hippolytus, the son of Theseus and the amazon Antiope. Theseus eventually married the sister of Ariadne, Phaedra, and when Hippolytus spurned her advances, she accused him instead. Theseus cursed his own son; and while Hippolytus rode his chariot along the shoreline, a white bull emerged from the waters, terrified his horses, and the chariot crashed. The very landscape of the painting mourns the passing of the mangled youth, handsome even in the throws of death. Centaurs & Hippolytus, a Legendary Passage from, Arthur Fairbanks translating, Philostratus the Elder, Imagines Book 2, Images 2-4. https://www.theoi.com/Text/PhilostratusElder2A.html#2 2.2. THE EDUCATION OF ACHILLES A fawn and a hare – these are the spoils of hunting of Achilles as he is now, the Achilles who at Ilium will capture cities and horses and the ranks of men, and rivers will do battle with him when he refuses to let them flow, and as reward of those exploits he will bear away Briseïs and the seven maidens from Lesbos and gold and tripods and authority over the Achaeans; but the exploits here depicted, done at Cheiron’s home, seem to deserve apples and honey as rewards, and you are content with small gifts, Achilles, you who one day will disdain whole cities and marriage with Agamemnon’s daughter. Nay, the Achilles who fights at the trench, who puts the Trojans to rout merely by his shouting, and who slays men right and left, and reddens the water of the Scamander, and also his immortal horses, and his dragging of Hector’s body around the walls, and his lamentation on the breast of Patroclus – all this has been depicted by Homer, and he depicts him also as singing and praying and receiving Priam under his roof. This Achilles, however, a child not yet conscious of valour, whom Cheiron still nourishes upon milk and marrow and honey, he has offered to the painter as a delicate, sport-loving child and already light of foot. For the boy’s leg is straight and his arms come down to his knees (for such arms are excellent assistants in the race); his hair is charming and loose; for Zephyrus in sport seems to shift it about, so that as it falls, now here, now there, the boy’s appearance may be changed. Already the boy has a frowning brow and an air of spirited haughtiness, but these are made gentle by a guileless look and by gracious cheeks that send for a tender smile. The cloak he wears is probably his mother’s gift; for it is beautiful and its colour is sea-purple with red glints shading into a dark blue. Cheiron flatters him by saying that he catches hares like a lion and vies with fawns in running; at any rate, he has just caught a fawn and comes to Cheiron to claim his reward, and Cheiron, delighting to be asked, stands with fore-legs bent so as to be on a level with the boy and offers him apples fair and fragrant from the fold of his garment – for their very fragrance seems to be depicted – and with his hand he offers him a honeycomb dripping with honey, thanks to the diligent foraging of the bees. For when bees find good m

Legendary Passages #0117, Plutarch's Life of Theseus, Section [XXVI.], Antiope & Pirithous. Previously, Theseus was crowned king of Athens after returning from the labyrinth without Ariadne. In this passage he loved and lost the amazon princess known as Antiope; and befriended Pirithous, whom he would follow into the depths of Hades itself. Antiope & Pirithous, a Legendary Passage from, Bernadotte Perrin translating, Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus, Life of Theseus, Sections [XXVI.] - [XXX.] http://www.theoi.com/Text/PlutarchTheseus.html He also made a voyage into the Euxine Sea, as Philochorus and sundry others say, on a campaign with Heracles against the Amazons, and received Antiope as a reward of his valor; but the majority of writers, including Pherecydes, Hellanicus, and Herodorus, say that Theseus made this voyage on his own account, after the time of Heracles, and took the Amazon captive; and this is the more probable story. For it is not recorded that any one else among those who shared his expedition took an Amazon captive.  And Bion says that even this Amazon he took and carried off by means of a stratagem. The Amazons, he says, were naturally friendly to men, and did not fly from Theseus when he touched upon their coasts, but actually sent him presents, and he invited the one who brought them to come on board his ship; she came on board, and he put out to sea. And a certain Menecrates, who published a history of the Bithynian city of Nicaea, says that Theseus, with Antiope on board his ship, spent some time in those parts, and that there chanced to be with him on this expedition three young men of Athens who were brothers, Euneos, Thoas, and Solois. This last, he says, fell in love with Antiope unbeknown to the rest, and revealed his secret to one of his intimate friends. That friend made overtures to Antiope, who positively repulsed the attempt upon her, but treated the matter with discretion and gentleness, and made no denunciation to Theseus. Then Solois, in despair, threw himself into a river and drowned himself, and Theseus, when he learned the fate of the young man, and what had caused it, was grievously disturbed, and in his distress called to mind a certain oracle which he had once received at Delphi. For it had there been enjoined upon him by the Pythian priestess that when, in a strange land, he should be sorest vexed and full of sorrow, he should found a city there, and leave some of his followers to govern it.  For this cause he founded a city there, and called it, from the Pythian god, Pythopolis, and the adjacent river, Solois, in honor of the young man. And he left there the brothers of Solois, to be the city's presidents and law-givers, and with them Hermus, one of the noblemen of Athens. From him also the Pythopolitans call a place in the city the House of Hermes, incorrectly changing the second syllable, and transferring the honor from a hero to a god. Well, then, such were the grounds for the war of the Amazons, which seems to have been no trivial nor womanish enterprise for Theseus. For they would not have pitched their camp within the city, nor fought hand to hand battles in the neighborhood of the Pnyx and the Museum, had they not mastered the surrounding country and approached the city with impunity.  Whether, now, as Hellanicus writes, they came round by the Cimmerian Bosporus, which they crossed on the ice, may be doubted; but the fact that they encamped almost in the heart of the city is attested both by the names of the localities there and by the graves of those who fell in battle. Now for a long time there was hesitation and delay on both sides in making the attack, but finally Theseus, after sacrificing to Fear, in obedience to an oracle, joined battle with the women.  This battle, then, was fought on the day of the month Boedromion on which, down to the present time, the Athenians celebrate the Boedromia. Cleidemus, who wishes to be minute, writes that the left wing of the Amazons e

Legendary Passages #0116, Pseudo-Apollodorus, The Library Epitome [E.1.5], Epitome of Theseus. Previously, Theseus discovered his origins and journeyed to Athens. In this passage, he expelled Medea, fought the Minotaur, and had many adventures as King, most ending in disaster. After sacrificing the Marathonian Bull, Theseus was recognized by his father Aegeus. He sailed to Crete, and navigated the Labyrinth with a spool of thread called a 'clue' given to him by Ariadne. He was going to marry her, but after Dionysus carried her off, Theseus forgot to change the sail, and thinking his son dead, Aegeus jumped to his death. Ariadne learned how to master the Labyrinth from Daedalus, who was then imprisoned by Minos. Daedalus escaped by building wings, but his son Icarus fell into the sea. After tracking him down in Camicus, Minos died in boiling bath. Theseus joined Hercules on his eighth labor to retrieve the Girdle of the Amazon Queen Hippolyte, and fell in love with her sister Antiope. They had a son Hippolytus, but when the Amazons invaded Athens to rescue her, she died. Eventually Theseus married Ariadne's sister Phaedra, but she fell in love with Hippolytus, got rejected, accused him of assault, and hanged herself. Theseus cursed his son, so Poseidon caused the death of Hippolytus. Next was the Centauromachy, where Theseus and his friend Pirithous fought the centaurs, descended from Ixion and Nebula, a cloud formed in the image of Hera. Fighting along side them was Caeneus, who was transformed by Poseidon from a woman into a man, but was killed by the centaurs. Both widowers, Theseus and Pirithous vowed to aid each other to marry daughters of Zeus. His friend wanted Persephone, wife of Hades, so they went down into the underworld. They were both captured and held fast in magical chairs. Fortunately, for his twelfth labor, Hercules went to Hades and rescued Theseus... but they could not save Pirithous. Before Hades, Theseus had kidnapped the future Helen of Troy. Her brothers the Dioscuri besieged Athens, rescued Helen, enslaved Theseus' mother Aethra, and made Menestheus king.  Dethroned, he sought refuge with King Lycomedes, but he pushed Theseus off a cliff. Epitome of Theseus a Legendary Passage from, J. G. Frazer translating, Pseudo-Apollodorus, The Library Epitome, [E.1.5] - [E.2.3] https://www.theoi.com/Text/ApollodorusE.html But Medea, being then wedded to Aegeus, plotted against him and persuaded Aegeus to beware of him as a traitor. And Aegeus, not knowing his own son, was afraid and sent him against the Marathonian bull. And when Theseus had killed it, Aegeus presented to him a poison which he had received the selfsame day from Medea. But just as the draught was about to be administered to him, he gave his father the sword, and on recognizing it Aegeus dashed the cup from his hands. And when Theseus was thus made known to his father and informed of the plot, he expelled Medea. And he was numbered among those who were to be sent as the third tribute to the Minotaur; or, as some affirm, he offered himself voluntarily. And as the ship had a black sail, Aegeus charged his son, if he returned alive, to spread white sails on the ship. And when he came to Crete, Ariadne, daughter of Minos, being amorously disposed to him, offered to help him if he would agree to carry her away to Athens and have her to wife. Theseus having agreed on oath to do so, she besought Daedalus to disclose the way out of the labyrinth. And at his suggestion she gave Theseus a clue when he went in; Theseus fastened it to the door, and, drawing it after him, entered in. And having found the Minotaur in the last part of the labyrinth, he killed him by smiting him with his fists; and drawing the clue after him made his way out again. And by night he arrived with Ariadne and the children at Naxos. There Dionysus fell in love with Ariadne and carried her off; and having brought her to Lemnos he enjoyed her, and begat Thoas, Staphylus, Oenopion, and P

Legendary Passages #0115, Plutarch's Life of Theseus, Section [XXII.], The Ship of Theseus. Previously, Theseus returned from the Labyrinth, only to find his father Aegeus had jumped off the Sounion Cliffs, thinking him dead. In this passage, the people of Athens welcome the reign of their new king and his many innovations. Not only had Theseus seemingly returned from dead, but so had the thirteen other boys and girls from the tribute to Minos. Many new traditions began with their return: funny cross-dressing for the boys who had snuck aboard as girls, a makeshift stew the youths had cobbled together in the Labyrinth, and a feast celebrating their miraculous return. Even the ship of tribute was preserved for centuries, new wood replacing old, until nothing was left of the original. King Theseus resettled the population of Attica, even inviting foreigners to rededicate Athens as a city proper. The people were split into three classes: nobility, tradesmen, and craftsmen. He instituted democratic reforms and self-rule, but preserved his military authority. And lastly, for his dedication to agriculture, or in memory of the Marathonian Bull, or perhaps Taurus, the general of Minos, Athenian coins where stamped with the image of an bull, and referred to as oxen. The Ship of Theseus, a Legendary Passage from, Bernadotte Perrin translating, Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus, Life of Theseus, Sections [XXII.] - [XXV.] https://www.theoi.com/Text/PlutarchTheseus.html The messenger found many of the people bewailing the death of their king, and others full of joy at his tidings, as was natural, and eager to welcome him and crown him with garlands for his good news. The garlands, then, he accepted, and twined them about his herald's staff and on returning to the sea-shore, finding that Theseus had not yet made his libations to the gods, remained outside the sacred precincts, not wishing to disturb the sacrifice. But when the libations were made, he announced the death of Aegeus. Thereupon, with tumultuous lamentation, they went up in haste to the city. Whence it is, they say, that to this day, at the festival of the Oschophoria, it is not the herald that is crowned, but his herald's staff, and those who are present at the libations cry out: “Eleleu! Iou! Iou!” the first of which cries is the exclamation of eager haste and triumph, the second of consternation and confusion. After burying his father, Theseus paid his vows to Apollo on the seventh day of the month Pyanepsion; for on that day they had come back to the city in safety. Now the custom of boiling all sorts of pulse on that day is said to have arisen from the fact that the youths who were brought safely back by Theseus put what was left of their provisions into one mess, boiled it in one common pot, feasted upon it, and ate it all up together. At that feast they also carry the so-called eiresione, which is a bough of olive wreathed with wool, such as Theseus used at the time of his supplication, and laden with all sorts of fruit-offerings, to signify that scarcity was at an end, and as they go they sing: -- Eiresione for us brings figs and bread of the richest, brings us honey in pots and oil to rub off from the body, strong wine too in a beaker, that one may go to bed mellow. Some writers, however, say that these rites are in memory of the Heracleidae, who were maintained in this manner by the Athenians; but most put the matter as I have done. XXIII. The ship on which Theseus sailed with the youths and returned in safety, the thirty-oared galley, was preserved by the Athenians down to the time of Demetrius Phalereus. They took away the old timbers from time to time, and put new and sound ones in their places, so that the vessel became a standing illustration for the philosophers in the mooted question of growth, some declaring that it remained the same, others that it was not the same vessel. It was Theseus who instituted also the Athenian festival of the Oschophoria. For it is sa

Legendary Passages #0114, Philostratus the Elder, Imagines Book 1, Image 14, Pasiphae & Semele. Previously, Theseus abandoned Ariadne on Naxos, where she was rescued by the god Dionysus. In this passage there are descriptions of three paintings: Semele, mother of Dionysus; Ariadne, wife of Dionysus; and Pasiphae, mother of Ariadne and the Minotaur. The first image is of the fire that consumed Semele and gave birth to Dionysus. Semele was the youngest daughter of Cadmus, and after she became pregnant by Zeus, Hera tricked her into asking Zeus to show his true self. She was burned to death by his godly form, but the fetus of Dionysus survived, and his father placed him inside Zeus' own body to carry him to term. The second image is that of Dionysus watching a sleeping Ariadne as Theseus sails away. Dionysus is usually depicted with ivy, horns, leopards, thyrsi, faun-skins, cymbals, flutes, and satyrs; but here the god is recognized by his love alone. Theseus looks entranced, having apparently forgotten the Minotaur and his love for Ariadne. The last image is primarily of the workshop of Daedalus, who constructed the hollow wooden cow that, uh, facilitated the union of Pasiphae and the Cretan Bull. About the workshop are unfinished statues, and little cupids aid Daedalus in constructing the wooden cow. Pasiphae & Semele, a Legendary Passage from, Arthur Fairbanks translating, Philostratus the Elder, Imagines Book 1, Images 14-16. https://www.theoi.com/Text/PhilostratusElder1A.html#14 1.14 SEMELE Brontè, stern of face, and Astrapè flashing light from her eyes, and raging fire from heaven that has laid hold of a king’s house, suggest the following tale, if it is one you know. A cloud of fire encompassing Thebes breaks into the dwelling of Cadmus as Zeus comes wooing Semele; and Semele apparently is destroyed, but Dionysus is born, by Zeus, so I believe, in the presence of the fire. And the form of Semele is dimly seen as she goes to the heavens, where the Muses will hymn her praises: but Dionysus leaps forth as his mother’s womb is rent apart and he makes the flame look dim, so brilliantly does he shine like a radiant star. The flame, dividing, dimly outlines a cave for Dionysus more charming than any in Assyria and Lydia; for sprays of ivy grow luxuriantly about it and clusters of ivy berries and now grape-vines and stalks of thyrsus which spring up from the willing earth, so that some grow in the very fire. We must not be surprised if in honour of Dionysus the Fire is crowned by the Earth, for the Earth will take part with the Fire in the Bacchic revel and will make it possible for the revelers to take wine from springs and to draw milk from clods of earth or from a rock as from living breasts. Listen to Pan, how he seems to be hymning Dionysus on the crests of Cithaeron, as he dances an Evian fling. And Cithaeron in the form of a man laments the woes soon to occur on his slopes, and he wears an ivy crown aslant on his head – for he accepts the crown most unwillingly – and Megaera causes a fir to shoot up beside him and brings to light a spring of water, in token, I fancy, of the blood of Actaeon and of Pentheus.  1.15 ARIADNE That Theseus treated Ariadne unjustly – though some say not with unjust intent, but under the compulsion of Dionysus – when he abandoned her while asleep on the island of Dia, you must have heard from your nurse; for those women are skilled in telling such tales and they weep over them whenever they will. I do not need to say that it is Theseus you see there on the ship and Dionysus yonder on the land, nor will I assume you to be ignorant and call your attention to the woman on the rocks, lying there in gentle slumber. Nor yet is it enough to praise the painter for things for which someone else too might be praised; for it is easy for anyone to paint Ariadne as beautiful and Theseus as beautiful; and there are countless characteristics of Dionysus for those who wish to represent him in pai

Legendary Passages #0113, The Poems of Catullus, Part II of Poem [64], Ariadne's Curse. Previously, Catullus described a couch covered with images of Theseus and Ariadne. Here the passage continues with her lamentations, her curse, and her rescue, of sorts. Ariadne had hoped for marriage, would have endured slavery, but being left to die alone was the ultimate betrayal by Theseus. She insulted his parentage, complained to the uncaring wind about the evilness of men, and despaired that even if she escaped off the island, she had no where else to go. Her love spurned, her fate sealed, as her final act she cursed Theseus to die alone. Meanwhile, his mind in a haze, Theseus dimly recalled his father Aegeus' parting words to him. Aegeus believed that Theseus would die as had all the youths before him, thus the tribute ship was given a black sail, the color of grief and death. Should a miracle occur, the Minotaur slain and he survive, Theseus was told to hoist a white sail, to let his father know that he yet lived. The final section has Ariadne rescued by the god Dionysus, here called Bacchus, and his strange entourage of followers and satyrs. It is hinted that Bacchus himself compelled Theseus to leave, and the god of liberation declared his own love for Ariadne. Bacchus throws a massive party for their wedding, she became a goddess, and received her happily ever after. Ariadne's Curse, a Legendary Passage from, A. S. Kline translating, Gaius Valerius Catullus, Part II of Poem [64]. https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Catullus.php#anchor_Toc531846789 But what should I relate, digressing further from my poem’s theme: the girl, abandoning her father’s sight, her sisters’ embraces, and lastly her mother’s, she wretched at her lost daughter’s joy in preferring the sweet love of Theseus to all this: or her being carried by ship to Naxos’s foaming shore, or her consort with uncaring heart vanishing, she conquered, her eyes softening in sleep? Often loud shrieks cried the frenzy in her ardent heart poured out from the depths of her breast, and then she would climb the steep cliffs in her grief, where the vast sea-surge stretches out to the view, then run against the waves into the salt tremor holding her soft clothes above her naked calves, and call out mournfully this last complaint, a frozen sob issuing from her wet face: ‘False Theseus, is this why you take me from my father’s land, faithless man, to abandon me on a desert shore? Is this how you vanish, heedless of the god’s power, ah, uncaring, bearing home your accursed perjuries? Nothing could alter the measure of your cruel mind? No mercy was near to you, inexorable man, that you might take pity on my heart? Yet once you made promises to me in that flattering voice, you told me to hope, not for this misery but for joyful marriage, the longed-for wedding songs, all in vain, dispersed on the airy breezes. Now, no woman should believe a man’s pledges, or believe there’s any truth in a man’s words: when their minds are intent on their desire, they have no fear of oaths, don’t spare their promises: but as soon as the lust of their eager mind is slaked they fear no words, they care nothing for perjury. Surely I rescued you from the midst of the tempest of fate, and more, I gave up my half-brother, whom I abandoned to you with treachery at the end. For that I’m left to be torn apart by beasts, and a prey to sea-birds, unburied, when dead, in the scattered earth. What lioness whelped you under a desert rock, what sea conceived and spat you from foaming waves, what Syrtis, what fierce Scylla, what vast Charybdis, you who return me this, for the gift of your sweet life? If marriage with me was not in your heart, because you feared your old father’s cruel precepts, you could still have led me back to your house, where I would have served you, a slave happy in her task, washing your beautiful feet in clear water, covering your bed with the purple fa