Mosaics of Grecian History Part 14

After many adventures Jason reached Col'chis, where, by the aid of magic and supernatural arts, and through the favor of Me-de'a, daughter of the King of Colchis, he succeeded in capturing the fleece. After four months of continued danger and innumerable hardships, Jason returned to Iolcus with the prize, accompanied by Medea, whom he afterward deserted, and whose subsequent history is told by the poet Euripides in his celebrated tragedy ent.i.tled Medea.

Growing out of the Argonautic legend is one concerning the youth Hy'las, a member of the expedition, and a son of the King of Mys'ia, a country of Asia Minor. Hylas was greatly beloved by Hercules. On the coast of Mysia the Argonauts stopped to obtain a supply of water, and Hylas, having gone from the vessel alone with an urn for the same purpose, takes the opportunity to bathe in the river Scaman'der, under the shadows of Mount Ida. He throws his purple chlamys, or cloak, over the urn, and pa.s.ses down into the water, where he is seized by the nymphs of the stream, and, in spite of his struggles and entreaties, he is borne by them "down from the noonday brightness to their dark caves in the depths below." Hercules went in search of Hylas, and the ship sailed from its anchorage without him. We have a faithful and beautiful reproduction of this Greek legend, both in theme and spirit, in a poem by BAYARD TAYLOR, from which the following extracts are taken:

Hylas.

Storm-wearied Argo slept upon the water.

No cloud was seen: on blue and craggy Ida The hot noon lay, and on the plains enamel; Cool in his bed, alone, the swift Scamander.

"Why should I haste?" said young and rosy Hylas; The seas are rough, and long the way from Colchis.

Beneath the snow-white awning slumbers Jason, Pillowed upon his tame Thessalian panther; The shields are piled, the listless oars suspended On the black thwarts, and all the hairy bondsmen Doze on the benches. They may wait for water Till I have bathed in mountain-born Scamander."

He saw his glorious limbs reversely mirrored In the still wave, and stretched his foot to press it On the smooth sole that answered at the surface: Alas! the shape dissolved in glittering fragments.

Then, timidly at first, he dipped, and catching Quick breath, with tingling shudder, as the waters Swirled round his limbs, and deeper, slowly deeper, Till on his breast the river's cheek was pillowed; And deeper still, till every sh.o.r.eward ripple Talked in his ear, and like a cygnet's bosom His white, round shoulder shed the dripping crystal.

There, as he floated with a rapturous motion, The lucid coolness folding close around him, The lily-cradling ripples murmured, "Hylas!"

He shook from off his ears the hyacinthine Curls that had lain unwet upon the water, And still the ripples murmured, "Hylas! Hylas!"

He thought--"The voices are but ear-born music.

Pan dwells not here, and Echo still is calling From some high cliff that tops a Thracian valley; So long mine ears, on tumbling h.e.l.lespontus, Have heard the sea-waves hammer Argo's forehead, That I misdeem the fluting of this current For some lost nymph"--again the murmur, "Hylas!"

The sound that seemed to come from the lilies was the voice of the sea-nymphs, calling to him to go with them where they wander--

"Down beneath the green translucent ceiling-- Where, on the sandy bed of old Scamander, With cool white buds we braid our purple tresses, Lulled by the bubbling waves around us stealing."

To all their entreaties Hylas exclaims:

"Leave me, naiads!

Leave me!" he cried. "The day to me is dearer Than all your caves deep-spread in ocean's quiet.

I would not change this flexile, warm existence, Though swept by storms, and shocked by Jove's dread thunder, To be a king beneath the dark-green waters.

Let me return! the wind comes down from Ida, And soon the galley, stirring from her slumber, Will fret to ride where Pelion's twilight shadow Falls o'er the towers of Jason's sea-girt city.

I am not yours--I cannot braid the lilies In your wet hair, nor on your argent bosoms Close my drowsed eyes to hear your rippling voices.

Hateful to me your sweet, cold, crystal being-- Your world of watery quiet. Help, Apollo!"

But the remonstrances and struggles of Hylas unavailing:

The boy's blue eyes, upturned, looked through the water Pleading for help; but heaven's immortal archer; Was swathed in cloud. The ripples hid his forehead; And last, the thick, bright curls a moment floated, So warm and silky that the stream upbore them, Closing reluctant as he sank forever.

The sunset died behind the crags of Imbros.

Argo was tugging at her chain; for freshly Blew the swift breeze, and leaped the restless billows.

The voice of Jason roused the dozing sailors, And up the mast was heaved the snowy canvas.

But mighty Hercules, the Jove-begotten, Unmindful stood beside the cool Scamander, Leaning upon his club. A purple chlamys Tossed o'er an urn was all that lay before him; And when he called, expectant, "Hylas! Hylas!"

The empty echoes made him answer--"Hylas!"

THE TROJAN WAR.

Of all the events of the Heroic period, however, the Trojan war has been rendered the most celebrated, through the genius of Homer. The alleged causes of the war, briefly stated, are these: Helen, the most beautiful woman of the age, and the daughter of Tyn'darus, King of Sparta, was sought in marriage by all the Princes of Greece. Tyndarus, perplexed with the difficulty of choosing one of the suitors without displeasing all the rest, being advised by the sage Ulysses, bound all of them by an oath that they would approve of the uninfluenced choice of Helen, and would unite to restore her to her husband, and to avenge the outrage, if ever she was carried off. Menela'us became the choice of Helen, and soon after, on the death of Tyndarus, succeeded to the vacant throne of Sparta.

Three years subsequently, Paris, son of Priam, King of Ilium, or Troy, visited the court of Menelaus, where he was hospitably received; but during the temporary absence of the latter he corrupted the fidelity of Helen, and induced her to flee with him to Troy. When Menelaus returned he a.s.sembled the Grecian princes, and prepared to avenge the outrage. Combining their forces under the command of Agamem'non, King of Myce'nae, a brother of Menelaus, they sailed with a great army for Troy. The imagination of the poet EURIPIDES describes this armament as follows:

With eager haste The sea-girt Aulis strand I paced, Till to my view appeared the embattled train Of h.e.l.las, armed for mighty enterprise, And galleys of majestic size, To bear the heroes o'er the main; A thousand ships for Ilion steer, And round the two Atridae's spear The warriors swear fair Helen to regain.

After a siege of ten years Troy was taken by stratagem, and the fair Helen was recovered. On the fanciful etymology of the word Helen, from a Greek verb signifying to take or seize, the poet aeCHYLUS indulges in the following reflections descriptive of the character and the history of this "spear-wooed maid of Greece:"

Who gave her a name So true to her fame?

Does a Providence rule in the fate of a word?

Sways there in heaven a viewless power O'er the chance of the tongue in the naming hour?

Who gave her a name, This daughter of strife, this daughter of shame, The spear-wooed maid of Greece!

Helen the taker! 'tis plain to see, A taker of ships, a taker of men, A taker of cities is she!

From the soft-curtained chamber of Hymen she fled, By the breath of giant Zephyr sped, And shield-bearing throngs in marshalled array Hounded her flight o'er the printless way, Where the swift-flashing oar The fair booty bore To swirling Sim'o-is' leafy sh.o.r.e, And stirred the crimson fray.

--Trans. by BLACKIE.

According to Homer, the princ.i.p.al Greek heroes engaged in the siege of Troy, aside from Agamemnon, were Menelaus, Achilles, Ulysses, Ajax (the son of Tel'amon), Di'omed, Patro'clus, and Palame'des; while among the bravest of the defenders of Troy were Hector, Sarpe'don, and aene'as.

The poet's story opens, in the tenth year of the siege, with an account of a contentious scene between two of the Grecian chiefs --Achilles and Agamemnon--which resulted in the withdrawal of Achilles and his forces from the Grecian army. The aid of the G.o.ds was invoked in behalf of Achilles, and Jupiter sent a deceitful vision to Agamemnon, seeking to persuade him to lead his forces to battle, in order that the Greeks might realize their need of Achilles. Agamemnon first desired to ascertain the feeling or disposition of the army regarding the expedition it had undertaken, and so proposed a return to Greece, which was unanimously and unexpectedly agreed to, and an advance was made toward the ships. But through the efforts of the valiant and sagacious Ulysses all discontent on the part of the troops was suppressed, and they returned to the plains of Troy.

Among those in the Grecian camp who had complained of their leaders, and of the folly of the expedition itself, was a brawling, turbulent, and tumultuous character named Thersi'tes, whose insolence Ulysses sternly and effectively rebuked. The following sketch of Thersites reads like a picture drawn from modern life; while the merited reproof administered by Ulysses is in the happiest vein of just and patriotic indignation:

Ulysses and Thersites.

Thersites only clamored in the throng, Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue; Awed by no shame, by no respect controlled, In scandal busy, in reproaches bold; With witty malice, studious to defame; Scorn all his joy, and censure all his aim; But chief he gloried, with licentious style, To lash the great, and monarchs to revile.

His figure such as might his soul proclaim: One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame; His mountain shoulders half his breast o'erspread, Thin hairs bestrew'd his long misshapen head; Spleen to mankind his envious heart possessed, And much he hated all--but most, the best.

Ulysses or Achilles still his theme; But royal scandal his delight supreme.

Long had he lived the scorn of every Greek, Vext when he spoke, yet still they heard him speak: Sharp was his voice; which, in the shrillest tone, Thus with injurious taunts attacked the throne.

Ulysses, in his tent, listens awhile to the complaints, and censures, and scandals against the chiefs, with which Thersites addresses the throng gathered around him, and at length--

With indignation sparkling in his eyes, He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies: "Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state With wrangling talents formed for foul debate, Curb that impetuous tongue, nor, rashly vain, And singly mad, asperse the sovereign reign.

"Have we not known thee, slave! of all our host The man who acts the least, upbraids the most?

Think not the Greeks to shameful flight to bring; Nor let those lips profane the name of King.

For our return we trust the heavenly powers; Be that their care; to fight like men be ours.

"But grant the host, with wealth our chieftain load; Except detraction, what hast thou bestowed?

Suppose some hero should his spoil resign, Art thou that hero? Could those spoils be thine?

G.o.ds! let me perish on this hateful sh.o.r.e, And let these eyes behold my son no more, If on thy next offence this hand forbear To strip those arms thou ill deserv'st to wear, Expel the council where our princes meet, And send thee scourged and howling through the fleet."

--B. II. POPE'S Trans.

COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS.

The opposing armies being ready to engage, a single combat is agreed upon between Menelaus, and Paris son of Priam, for the determination of the war. Paris is soon vanquished, but is rescued from death by Venus; and, according to the terms on which the combat took place, Agamemnon demands the restoration of Helen.

But the G.o.ds declare that the war shall go on. So the conflict begins, and Diomed, a.s.sisted by the G.o.ddess Pallas (or Minerva), performs wonders in this day's battle, wounding and putting to flight Pan'darus, aeneas, and the G.o.ddess Venus, even wounding the war-G.o.d Mars, who had challenged him to combat, and sending him groaning back to heaven.

Hector, the eldest son of Priam King of Troy, and the chief hero of the Trojans, leaves the field for a brief s.p.a.ce, to request prayers to Minerva for a.s.sistance, and especially for the removal of Diomed from the fight. This done, he seeks a momentary interview with his wife, the fair and virtuous Androm'a-che, whose touching appeal to him, and his reply, are both, perhaps, without a parallel in tender, natural solicitude.

Parting of Hector and Andromache.

"Too daring prince! ah, whither dost thou run?

Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and son!

And think'st thou not how wretched we shall be, A widow I, a helpless orphan he?