Favorite Greek Myths (Yesterday's Classics) (9 page)

By this time the report of all that Perseus had done had spread through the neighboring kingdoms, and his deeds were told by every fireside. Great enthusiasm prevailed among the people when it was known that the hero was coming among them. Long before the ship of Perseus could reach Argos, Acrisius heard that his grandson was coming home. Instead of being pleased at this news, he was terrified; for he remembered well how the oracle had foretold that he should be killed by his own grandson. He would not even remain in Argos, but went away secretly in the night to the city of Larissa, in Thessaly.

Now it happened that the ship of Perseus, having been blown somewhat out of its course, took him also to Larissa, where he arrived soon after King Acrisius. He found the people of that city celebrating the yearly games, in which, with the permission of King Acrisius, they asked Perseus to join them. King Acrisius did not wish to meet his grandson, but he sat looking on among the spectators. Cheer after cheer went up, as Perseus performed some uncommon feat of strength or skill. King Acrisius could not help feeling proud of his grandson.

To close the games for the day, the young men were throwing the discus. Perseus threw it farther than it had ever been thrown before. To please the people, who were very enthusiastic, he threw it a second time. It flew up higher than ever, in a splendid semicircle, but as it descended, a sudden gust of wind came in from the sea and blew it to one side. It fell among the spectators, struck King Acrisius, and killed him instantly.

Perseus knew by the cries he heard that some one had been killed, and he was very much shocked to find that it was his grandfather, of whose presence in Larissa he knew nothing.

So, in this way, the words of the oracle came true. Perseus reigned in his grandfather's place, in Argos, and was wise and just, and much loved by his people.

A
RACHNE
lived in a small village on the shores of the Mediterranean. Her parents were very poor. While her mother was busy cooking the simple meals for the family, or working in the fields, Arachne used to spin all day long.

Her wheel made a steady whirring like the buzzing of some insect. She grew so skilful from constant practice, that the threads she drew out were almost as fine as the mists that rose from the sea near by. The neighbors used to hint, sometimes, that such fine-spun threads were rather useless, and that it might be better if Arachne would help her mother more and spin less.

One day Arachne's father, who was a fisherman, came home with his baskets full of little shell-fish, which were of a bright crimson or purple color. He thought the color of the little fish so pretty that he tried the experiment of dyeing Arachne's wools with them. The result was the most vivid hue that had ever been seen in any kind of woven fabric. This was the color which was afterward called Tyrian purple,—or sometimes it was called royal purple, because kings liked to wear it.

After this, Arachne's tapestries always showed some touch of the new color. They now found a ready sale, and, in fact, soon became famous.

Arachne's family changed their little cottage for a much larger house. Her mother did not have to work in the fields any more, nor was her father any longer obliged to go out in his boat to catch fish.

Arachne, herself, became as famous as her tapestries. She heard admiring words on every side, and I am sorry to say that her head was a little turned by them. When, as often happened, people praised the beautiful color that had been produced by the little shell-fish, she did not tell how her father had helped her, but took all the credit to herself.

While she was weaving, a group of people often stood behind her loom, watching the pictures grow. One day she overheard some one say that even the great goddess, Minerva, the patron goddess of spinning and weaving, could not weave more beautiful tapestries than this plain fisherman's daughter. This was a very foolish thing to say, but Arachne thought it was true. She heard another say that Arachne wove so beautifully that she must have been taught by Minerva herself.

Now, the truth is, that Minerva had taught Arachne. It was Minerva who had sent the little shell-fish to those coasts; and, although she never allowed herself to be seen, she often stood behind the girl and guided her shuttle.

But Arachne, never having seen the goddess, thought she owed everything to herself alone, and began to boast of her skill. One day she said: "It has been said that I can weave quite as well, if not better, than the goddess, Minerva. I should like to have a weaving match with her, and then it would be seen which could do best."

These wicked words had hardly left Arachne's mouth, before she heard the sound of a crutch on the floor. Turning to look behind her, she saw a feeble old woman in a rusty gray cloak. The woman's eyes were as gray as her cloak, and strangely bright and clear for one so old. She leaned heavily on her crutch, and when she spoke, her voice was cracked and weak.

"I am many years older than you," she said. "Take my advice. Ask Minerva's pardon for your ungrateful words. If you are truly sorry, she will forgive you."

Now Arachne had never been very respectful to old persons, particularly when they wore rusty cloaks, and she was very angry at being reproved by this one.

"Don't advise me," she said. "Go and advise your own children. I shall say and do what I please."

At this an angry light came into the old woman's gray eyes; her crutch suddenly changed to a shining lance; she dropped her cloak; and there stood the goddess herself.

Arachne's face grew very red, and then very white, but she would not ask Minerva's pardon, even then. Instead, she said that she was ready for the weaving match.

So two weaving frames were brought in, and attached to one of the beams overhead. Then Minerva and foolish Arachne stood side by side, and each began to weave a piece of tapestry.

As Minerva wove, her tapestry began to show pictures of mortals who had been foolhardy and boastful, like Arachne, and who had been punished by the gods. It was meant for a kindly warning to Arachne.

But Arachne would not heed the warning. She wove into her tapestry pictures representing certain foolish things that the gods of Olympus had done.

This was very disrespectful, and it is no wonder that when Arachne's tapestry was finished, Minerva tore it to pieces.

Arachne was frightened now, but it was too late. Minerva suddenly struck her on the forehead with her shuttle. Then Arachne shrank to a little creature no larger than one's thumb.

"Since you think yourself so very skilful in spinning and weaving," said Minerva, "you shall do nothing else but spin and weave all your life."

Upon this Arachne, in her new shape, ran quickly into the first dark corner she could find. She was now obliged to earn her living by spinning webs of exceeding fineness, in which she caught many flies, just as her father had caught fish in his nets. She was called the Spinner.

The children of this first little spinner have become very numerous; but their old name of
spinner
has been changed to that of
spider
. Their delicate webs, which are as mist-like as any of Arachne's weaving, often cover the grass on a morning when the day is to be fine.

J
ASON
was the son of King Æson, and heir to his father's kingdom of Iolcus. One day, when Jason was a helpless infant in his cradle, a certain strong chief, called Pelias, came to the palace with a great body of armed men, broke through the gates, entered, and took King Æson captive.

In the midst of all the noise and confusion, Jason's nurse managed to escape with her charge. She ran down a lonely country road, and across the marshes to the mountains, to Chiron's cave.

Chiron was a centaur. Like all centaurs, he had the body and legs of a horse, and the head and shoulders of a man. He lived in a cave, as poor people often did in those days, and he supported himself by keeping a kind of school. His pupils became very expert horsemen, and good musicians. By hunting wild beasts in the forests, they learned the use of the spear, the shield, and other implements of war. Chiron's school was a rough, wild school, but it made brave men.

When the nurse brought Jason to Chiron's cave, Chiron's wife took the child and cared for him as if he had been her own son, till he was old enough to profit by the centaur's teaching.

Meanwhile, Pelias reigned in Iolcus, and the true king, Æson, languished in prison. But the reign of Pelias, the usurper, was not altogether undisturbed. It was believed among the people that their rightful king would one day be restored to them; and there was a prophecy abroad which warned King Pelias to beware of a man who would one day come down from the mountains, wearing only one sandal.

When Jason was twenty years old, he was as well-developed and handsome a youth as any in Greece. His long waving hair fell down on his broad shoulders, and he had the sinewy walk of a young lion.

Being old enough now to try his strength, he bade good-by, one day, to his good schoolmaster, Chiron, threw a leopard's skin over his shoulders, took a spear in each hand, and walked gayly down the road to Iolcus, for he meant to win back his kingdom from Pelias.

On his way down the mountain, he came to a stream which was badly swollen, and on the bank he saw an old woman who did not dare to cross. He kindly offered to carry her over, and his offer was accepted. He noticed that she looked very small and thin, and thought she would be very light to carry, but when he had fairly entered the stream, he found her very heavy. In his effort to fight against the current, and at the same time to stand up under his burden, he left one of his sandals sticking in the mud at the bottom of the river. But he succeeded in reaching the opposite shore, where he set the little old woman down in safety. Then, what was his astonishment to find that he had carried the great goddess, Juno, across the stream. From this time Juno was Jason's friend.

When he walked into the forum at Iolcus, the people thought a god had come, and wondered whether the stranger were not Apollo or Mars. But King Pelias, remembering the prophecy, gave a quick glance at Jason's feet, and saw only one sandal. With much misgiving he asked the stranger's name.

Jason frankly told who he was, and how he had been brought up in Chiron's cave. The news spread quickly through the town, and Jason's kinsmen, the sons of Æolus, heard it and welcomed him to their houses.

After Jason had been in Iolcus for about five days, he gathered his kinsmen together, and went before the usurper, Pelias, and the people, to present his claim to the throne. Since he and Pelias were kinsmen, he did not think it right that there should be fighting and bloodshed between them. So he consented to give up to Pelias much of the land and many of the flocks and herds which were his by right, but said that he must have the throne and sceptre.

Pelias showed no anger at this demand of Jason's, but he quickly devised a plan for sending the hero away again. He said that a few nights before Jason's arrival a very strange dream had come to him, in his sleep. In this dream a voice had commanded him to go to Colchis, and bring back the golden fleece of the ram which had carried Phrixus across the sea to Colchis.

The story of Phrixus was well known to Jason and to all the people of Iolcus. Many years before this, two little children, of the race of Æolus, Phrixus and Helle, who were persecuted by their step-mother, fled away from Iolcus by the help of a ram with a golden fleece. The ram had taken the two children on its back, and had swum away across the sea to the kingdom of Colchis. On the way, at a place where the water was very rough, Helle had fallen off and been drowned; but Phrixus had clung tightly to the ram's fleece, and arrived safe at Colchis. There the ram was sacrificed to Jupiter. Phrixus gave its beautiful golden fleece to the king of Colchis, who nailed it on a great oak tree, in the Garden of Mars. All these things had happened so very, very long before this, that the people of Iolcus had now almost forgotten that any such children as Phrixus and Helle had ever lived; but they remembered what their fathers had told them about the wonderful golden fleece of the ram, and many of them thought that the fleece should be brought back to Iolcus.