CHAPTER 3
Teamwork
THE GOLDEN FLEECE:
THE VOYAGE OF JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS, PART I
Cast Jason Young hero Pelias His evil cousin Hera Queen of Heaven Zeus Lord of the gods Orpheus Morbidly depressed master musician |
Heracles Famous strongman hero Atalanta Famous female hero Chiron Centaur, trainer of heroes Iris Rainbow messenger of the gods Guard Guard to Pelias Man Man from the crowd |
CHIRON: In the distant land of Colchis, on a withered tree amid a barren field, hangs a Golden Fleece. This fleece is a symbol of heroic virtues. To claim it one must be blessed, above all others, by the gods.
NARRATOR: The centaur Chiron had been lecturing on this subject for some time. He paused in his story and glanced at the young man half-asleep on a nearby rock.
CHIRON: (sternly) Jason—have you been listening?
JASON: (sighing) I’m sorry, master. I have so much on my mind.
CHIRON: So it seems—everything but your lessons.
JASON: I’m just sick of sitting! I’ve been sitting since I can remember.
CHIRON: Patience is a virtue many centaurs do not have. So it is with humans. But I have learned it and so shall you.
JASON: (angrily) Every time I think about him my blood boils. I can’t think about anything but running a sword through his guts!
CHIRON: Think, young one. What would happen then? Many men would strike you down before you had time to savor your revenge. Your cousin is a king, after all.
JASON: On a throne that’s supposed to be mine!
CHIRON: What good is a throne if you’re not smart enough to use it? Instead of desiring to be powerful, perhaps you should desire to be good.
JASON: (childlike) Being good is boring.
CHIRON: Which brings us to mathematics. Get out your abacus.
NARRATOR: Jason, a young prince, had been raised in a mountainside dwelling by the wise centaur. His father had been king until Jason’s cousin had violently seized the throne. With his father missing and presumed dead, his mother had fled, leaving the boy in the care of Chiron.
His whole life, he had been trained—trained for the day when he would go back to his father’s kingdom and challenge the tyrant who now ruled it.
Chiron had taught him everything he knew: the ballads of the gods, the layout of the stars, the stories of the old heroes, learning that filled Jason’s head to the point of bursting. Yet he had never taught him how to swing a sword or to shield himself from a heavy blow.
Then one morning, the centaur woke him. It was early, the stars were still in the dark sky—
CHIRON: Get up.
JASON: (groggy) Heh—what’s going on?
CHIRON: The time has come.
JASON: To what?
CHIRON: To leave. I have taught you all that I know. Now, you must go face your cousin and claim your right.
JASON: But—but—you haven’t even taught me how to use a sword!
CHIRON: There is not much to it. There is a blunt end and a sharp end. Hold it by the blunt end. Swing the sharp end toward your enemy. Stop swinging when either he or you are dead.
JASON: I mean, how to fight! How to be a great warrior!
CHIRON: Great warriors accomplish nothing. What can a sword gain you but death? What can death gain but more death? Do not desire a cycle of killing. The mind is the weapon of greatness.
JASON: Nice philosophy, but what am I going to do? I can’t think him to death!
CHIRON: The gods willed that I be your teacher. I do not train mindless warriors. I train great men, and you, my boy, have become a great man. It is time for you to go.
JASON: (grudgingly) I will, but I’m sure to fail.
CHIRON: Do not defeat yourself. You are destined for great things. I will give you this before you leave.
JASON: (excitedly) What is it? A weapon? At last!
CHIRON: No, but rather a garment to turn away the rain as you travel.
JASON: (not impressed) A leopard skin?
CHIRON: Do not look down upon it. The mighty leopard gave you his skin. It is a wondrous gift. Wear it well.
JASON: (hopefully) And?
CHIRON: And the dawn is coming, you must be off—follow the road. You have learned the way. Claim your birthright, but along the way, do not forget wisdom, for often will it save you.
NARRATOR: And so Jason left the only home he had ever known.
The road moved quickly; he was soon out of the mountains and approaching his father’s former kingdom. Deep down, he knew the centaur was right. He would be a wise king, not a tyrant. He would bring peace and thought and majesty back to the throne. The only problem was how to get it back. But, in spite of this, he felt his spirits rise. He was Jason, son of a king, trained by Chiron the Wise.
JASON: This may not be so hard after all!
NARRATOR: At this moment, the strap on his left sandal gave way, and in his shock, he tripped and fell face first to the ground.
JASON: (angrily) Great. This is just what I need. I guess I’ll have to limp into the palace with one sandal. That’ll strike fear into him—a limping teenager.
NARRATOR: But little did Jason know that what he wore was exactly the thing to strike fear into his cousin. After seizing the throne, the evil King Pelias had consulted an oracle. The oracle had told him that while his fortune was great, he should fear one who came wearing only one shoe. Bitterly, the king had harbored this news in his heart and had set the palace guards to watch for a man who wore only one shoe. If a man fit this description, they were to bring him immediately before the throne—for a speedy execution.
GUARD: Stop, boy!
JASON: Me?
GUARD: Why do you only wear one shoe?
JASON: (jokingly) I’m making a fashion statement.
GUARD: Come with me.
NARRATOR: The guard grabbed Jason and started to drag him toward the palace.
JASON: (frightened) I was only joking!
NARRATOR: Thrown roughly to the ground, Jason was shocked when he looked up to behold the king—the repugnant swine he had come to see. He was even a bit more swine-like than Jason had imagined—weight hanging from his rotund body.
PELIAS: (booming) Who are you? (to guard) Bring me a sword.
JASON: Wait—you can’t do this!
PELIAS: Why not? I am a king. You will tell me your name. Then I will kill you.
JASON: Why? Because I’m wearing one shoe? Is there a law that no one can wear one shoe? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!
PELIAS: This is my kingdom. I make the laws. Everyone wears two sandals at all times. The most loyal wear three. Any who wear only one are put to death. Now, give me your name, or I will cut it out of you.
NARRATOR: The fat king advanced with his sword—his eyes glittering with hate. It was then that Jason found his courage.
JASON: (growing angry) You know me well, you coward. It was my father who you drove from this very throne. I am Jason.
PELIAS: (shocked) Jason?
JASON: You cannot kill me. I am your relative. If you murder me, the Furies will haunt you forever!
NARRATOR: He saw the king’s face twist into a look of extreme anger—then melt away into a smile.
PELIAS: (sugary tone) Jason, my boy. Guards, put the sword away, please. There will be no need for that today. (happy laugh) So, tell me, my cousin, where did your father manage to hide you all these years?
JASON: I was raised in the countryside by Chiron, the centaur.
PELIAS: Ah, Chiron. He’s a very wise man—or should I say horse? But royalty should not associate with such creatures. Gives the wrong impression. It is no matter though. Welcome home.
JASON: I see through your sweetness. I’ve come to claim a throne that is rightfully mine. One that you’ve been keeping warm with your enormous rear.
PELIAS: (gritting teeth) But, young prince, I have only been keeping it for you. I will gladly step aside and let the true heir take his place.
JASON: Thank you.
NARRATOR: Could it really be this easy? Chiron had been right. He hadn’t needed weapons at all.
PELIAS: But first, let us call in all the nobles. (to guards) Guards, send for the nobles. They are gathered in the main hall. Tell them that my cousin has returned.
JASON: I expect you to stay true to your word.
PELIAS: Of course, of course. True as day.
(murmuring from the nobles)
PELIAS: Ah, here we are. Great men of this realm, look who has returned! The son of the former king!
(murmuring from the nobles)
JASON: (loudly) I have come to claim my father’s throne.
PELIAS: And so he has—but, dear nobles, I must pose you a question: How do we know that this boy is who he says he is? Any shepherd or beggar may wander into a throne room and profess himself a prince—especially one dressed as this boy is. How can you prove that you are the heir to the throne?
JASON: I . . . I . . .
PELIAS: (Snakily) Gentlemen, I suggest a task for our young prince. We have all heard stories of the Golden Fleece, a prize fit only for a king. If eager Jason here is ready for the throne, it wouldn’t be beyond his means to, say, nip out and get it for us.
(murmurs of approval, “Yes” from the nobles)
JASON: (in shock) What? I mean, that’s on the other side of the world.
PELIAS: Oh, now, it’s a very simple test, young Jason—if that is your name. Bring back the Golden Fleece and with it receive your kingdom.
NARRATOR: Jason’s face stayed emotionless, but inside his stomach was churning. He had been tricked. He had no choice.
JASON: (numbly) I will do this thing you have asked of me.
PELIAS: Wonderful. Spoken like a true relative of mine.
JASON: (hatefully) Do not speak to me. I’m no relation to a reptile like you. I will bring this fleece, and with it your destruction.
PELIAS: (laughing) We shall see, boy. We shall see.
NARRATOR: Jason felt heat boiling behind his eyes as he left the palace. Had he spent his whole life in exile only to die on a wild goose chase? Colchis was leagues away—he had no ship, no crew, no hope. In his despair, he wandered the lonely streets of the city and came to sit at last on the sands that looked out over the ocean he had pledged to cross.
It was here—his will lost—that he caught the eye of Hera gazing down from high Olympus.
HERA: This boy, Jason. What do you know of him, husband?
ZEUS: (distractedly) Hmmm, nothing, dear, nothing.
HERA: (annoyed) No, I didn’t think so. He isn’t a nymph or one of your mortal hussies.
ZEUS: (ignoring that remark) I should say he could pass for either. A weak-looking lad.
HERA: But his heart—his heart is good. His destiny is to become a hero. He will need much help to fulfill his task.
ZEUS: Dear, we should not interfere with the destinies of mortals.
HERA: (coyly) Really? I believe it is you who have been interfering to the point of exhaustion. Why shouldn’t this hero receive the help of Olympus?
ZEUS: Hera . . .
HERA: Is it because he—among all others—is not the putrid offspring of your insatiable loins?
ZEUS: (grumbling) You have said your piece.
HERA: Have I? I am not a thing to be ordered about. (softly) I will help this boy because no one else will. He is no son of Zeus, yet I will see to it that he goes on the greatest quest man has ever known—and succeeds.
NARRATOR: So Hera sent her messenger, Iris, throughout Greece, spreading the word of the great quest. Many heroes heard of this mighty undertaking and started to make their way to Pelias’ kingdom. Such a magnificent voyage attracted the greatest and most powerful champions in all of ancient Greece.
Meanwhile, back in his forsaken father’s kingdom, Jason wandered aimlessly—ignorant of what was happening thanks to Hera.
JASON: How am I ever going to do this?
IRIS: Sir.
NARRATOR: Jason looked up and saw a young girl with a plain face standing before him. It was odd, but for a second, he thought he saw her eyes glowing with a purple light.
IRIS: You are Jason, correct?
JASON: Yes, why? Do you have a message for me from the king?
IRIS: No, a message from Argus, the shipmaker.
JASON: Argus?
IRIS: Your ship will be seaworthy in a month. He has received your order.
JASON: My order? What do you mean?
IRIS: (pointing) He lives just over there.
NARRATOR: He looked where she pointed—toward a distant part of the shorefront.
IRIS: You may ask him yourself.
JASON: But I didn’t order any . . .
NARRATOR: He turned back to argue, but the girl was gone. A giant rainbow had spread across the bay. Iris had done her duty. Even though he did not understand, Jason was overjoyed. He couldn’t believe it. He wanted to run back to Chiron, tell him of his good fortune, but he needed to stay. There was so much he needed: weapons, supplies, maps, men—where would he get men?
Over the next week, Jason asked among the people of the kingdom: Who was brave enough to go with him? He found that working a trade and making a harvest easily outranked a dangerous mission to the far ends of the Earth.
He had hit another wall . . . until one day . . .
ATALANTA: Excuse me, man.
JASON: (annoyed) Look, miss, I’m really busy. I’m trying to—
ATALANTA: Get people to go on your voyage. I know.
JASON: You know?
ATALANTA: I’ve come to tell you that I’ll come with you.
JASON: Well, that’s very nice, sweetie, but we won’t be needing any women on this . . .
NARRATOR: He suddenly felt his arm being painfully pinned behind him.
JASON: (in pain) On second thought—welcome aboard.
ATALANTA: I am Atalanta. You will find that I am as strong as any man, though somewhat smarter.
JASON: Nice. Who is that with you?
NARRATOR: He had noticed a sad-looking boy behind her—golden haired with fair skin and a lyre thrown over his shoulder. He seemed to be moaning softly to himself.
ATALANTA: This is Orpheus. We traveled the road together. He’s a bit mopey, but you’ll find that his music is as good a weapon as any. And that’s not necessarily a compliment.
JASON: Well, I welcome you both. (under his breath) Great. A girl and a harp player. What a fearsome group.
NARRATOR: Suddenly, angry shouts came from across the marketplace. A crowd was gathering around some sort of scene.
MAN: (screaming) Put it down, you brute, put it down!
ATALANTA: What is that noise?
JASON: I don’t know.
ORPHEUS: (sadly, monotone) Some man is holding an ox cart in the air.
JASON: What?
NARRATOR: They ran to see what all the commotion was about. A large man—like Orpheus had said—was holding an ox cart over his head. An old cart driver was screaming irately at him.
MAN: (screaming) My cart! My cart! Thief!
HERACLES: Quiet, puny man. Do you not know who I am? You almost ran me over with this tiny cart!
MAN: Help! Guards! Help!
HERACLES: (annoyed) Here, I’ll put it down.
NARRATOR: The large man dropped the ox cart onto the screaming driver. They heard a groan rise up from beneath it.
HERACLES: Some people have no manners.
JASON: (to Atalanta) Who is that man?
ATALANTA: Isn’t it obvious? It’s Heracles.
JASON: What’s he doing here?
ORPHEUS: (dryly) He’s come to join you.
JASON: Me? Why me?
ORPHEUS: (even drier) Maybe he’s like me. Nothing better to do.
ATALANTA: Heracles! Over here! HERE! (under her breath) Big dumb brute.
HERACLES: Hello, small people. I am Heracles. Can you tell me where to find Jason?
NARRATOR: With the giant man so close, Jason suddenly found that he had lost the ability to speak. He had heard stories about what those huge arms had done.
ATALANTA: This is he. Jason, speak up.
JASON: (weakly) Hello?
HERACLES: You’re smaller than I thought. Such a great quest for a small man?
JASON: Errrr . . .
HERACLES: Can you not talk, little one? I have come to join you. With the mighty Heracles on your journey, you shall not fail.
ATALANTA: Riiiight . . .
ORPHEUS: (sighing loudly) I’m tired. (sigh) Life used to be so good . . .
HERACLES: What’s his problem?
ATALANTA: His one true love died.
HERACLES: (sadly) I know how he feels.
ORPHEUS: (somewhat hopefully) Did you lose your love to Hades as well?
HERACLES: Err . . . sort of.
ATALANTA: Did a wild animal kill your closest friend?
HERACLES: No, I sort of murdered my wife and kids, (quickly) but it wasn’t my fault—exactly.
ATALANTA: Well, I’ll be keeping my distance now.
NARRATOR: Jason couldn’t believe it. In front of him stood two of the greatest heroes Greece had ever known—and Orpheus—all of them offering to accompany him on his journey.
HERACLES: So, when do we leave, captain? We are a hearty crew, thirsting for adventures!
NARRATOR: Jason realized he was talking to him.
JASON: Tomorrow. I just received word that our ship was ready.
HERACLES: What is our ship’s name?
JASON: The Argo.
ORPHEUS: (emotionally drained) Catchy.
NARRATOR: And so this band of heroes retired for the evening, preparing themselves for their voyage the next day. But Hera’s full power hadn’t yet been revealed. There were more—many other heroes—late arrivals yet to come.
That night, stranger after stranger made his way into Jason’s tent, pledging loyalty to his cause, and all vowing to follow little Jason to the ends of the Earth. Hera had done well.
On the beach, his new vessel rocking silently in the bay, Jason stared up at the stars—the same stars that had seen him off only a short time ago. He felt so much older now, so much wiser.
JASON: Chiron, you were right. I only had to trust myself. There’s still a long way to go, but look at all my help! Suddenly, it doesn’t seem so impossible.
NARRATOR: As he spoke, several stars in the night sky started to glimmer and dance. To his astonishment, they shifted and formed a shape. In that shape, Jason saw his old teacher.
JASON: It can’t be! Chiron! (shouting) Chiron, can you hear me?
CHIRON: Yes, little one, I can.
JASON: I don’t understand. What’s happened to you?
CHIRON: I knew that you would need help, so I went in search of Heracles. I ran into him at my cousin’s wedding. He’s a sucker for centaur weddings, apparently. Anyway, things went sour. Too much wine was drunk. Long story short: Heracles got into a big, drunken brawl, and I caught a stray arrow in the hoof.
JASON: (sadly) I . . . I didn’t know.
CHIRON: It’s not the worst way to go. The good news is that Zeus has placed me in the stars so that I might watch over you.
JASON: That’s great! I think I’m going to need all the help I can get.
CHIRON: You have mighty helpers—helpers of legend. I have trained many heroes, Jason, but you, my son, will accomplish the most.
JASON: If you say so.
CHIRON: I know so. Take care. It won’t be an easy journey. You will face many challenges. But you are favored by the gods—no small feat. Remember to follow my form in the stars as you sail, and it shall take you to the land you seek. Do not forget your old teacher, Jason. I hope that I have taught you well. Now is the test. Farewell.
JASON: Farewell.
NARRATOR: The stars faded from his eyes. The dawn was breaking.
DISCUSS
THE GOLDEN FLEECE:
THE VOYAGE OF JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS, PART II
Cast Jason Young hero Pelias His evil cousin Hera Queen of Heaven Orpheus Morbidly depressed master musician Heracles Famous strongman hero Atalanta Famous female hero Iris Rainbow messenger of the gods |
Hylas Heracles’ young armor-bearer Phineus Tormented prophet Aphrodite Goddess of love Nymph One Water spirit Nymph Two Water spirit King Æetes Ruler of Colchis Medea Witch daughter of Æetes |
NARRATOR: In the faraway land of Colchis, the desert nation that housed the legendary Golden Fleece, the Princess Medea was awakened by a vision. She at once went to report it to her father, the king.
MEDEA: (somberly) Father . . .
ÆETES: (so hoarse he can barely talk) What is it, girl?
MEDEA: Father, I have had another vision.
ÆETES: (suddenly interested) Speak . . .
MEDEA: I saw the young Greek. He and his crew have set sail. They are being aided by Hera, Queen of the Gods. They come for the Fleece.
ÆETES: (calmly) Good, daughter, good.
MEDEA: (angrily) Father! We cannot let them have the Fleece. They are filth! They do not deserve to set foot in our land.
ÆETES: Patience, Medea. It is with patience that the spider, Arachne, spins her web—not haste—and so she catches her prey. We must do the same.
MEDEA: (irritated) Your will be done, father. Good night.
ÆETES: Good night.
NARRATOR: What the Princess of Colchis had seen in her dream was true. Jason and his Argonauts had finally embarked.
The first day of the journey had burst forth in a blaze of glory. The crew had hoisted the sail. The keel had pulled across the shoal. They had taken the first step on the greatest quest of all time.
HERACLES: A fine day for sailing, little Jason. (claps his hand on Jason’s shoulder)
JASON: Oof! Yes, a perfect day.
ATALANTA: So, do we have any idea what stands between us and Colchis?
JASON: Open sea.
HERACLES: Monsters to be sure.
ORPHEUS: (hopefully) Death—I hope.
ATALANTA: It will be no easy feat. That’s for sure. We’ll have to stay on our guard.
NARRATOR: They sailed for many weeks. Day after day, Orpheus sang of his lost love, Eurydice, and moved even the manliest of men to tears.
After time, supplies grew low, but fear had kept them from going inland to hunt and forage on the islands they moored by. Need was growing greater with each passing day. Soon, they would have to risk a journey inland.
ORPHEUS: (depressed) And that is how I lost my love.
HERACLES: (sobbing) It’s sooo sad!
ATALANTA: Oh, please. He sings that song about 10 times a day. Maybe he should row a bit, huh?
JASON: We need water and food.
ORPHEUS: There’s a rather dangerous-looking bit of land to the east.
JASON: That is where we will have to go ashore. Who’s coming with me?
HERACLES: Hylas, fetch my armor!
HYLAS: (eagerly) Yes, sir.
HERACLES: Hylas and I have been together on many voyages. He is an orphaned lad. I have taken him under my wing. I think of him as a son.
ORPHEUS: That could be dangerous.
HYLAS: Here you are.
HERACLES: Thank you, boy. I’m ready to go ashore.
NARRATOR: As they pulled in close, Jason and Heracles stepped off the boat. The forest was thick with vegetation—tangled vines and large-leaved plants prevented easy travel. But they trudged ahead and soon found the wild game they sought.
HERACLES: Now that we have our deer and piggies, Hylas, boy, go fetch us some water.
HYLAS: Yes, sir.
NARRATOR: The men began to butcher the game and offer the proper sacrifices as Hylas sped away on his errand.
HYLAS: I must hurry.
NARRATOR: Several miles away, Hylas knelt beside a clear pool and lowered his jar beneath the lip of the water.
NYMPH ONE: (seductively) My, my, what a handsome young man!
HYLAS: (nervously) Who’s there?
NARRATOR: Two slinky forms rose from the depths of the pool—two young girls—perfect in every way. They were the nymphs who lived there.
NYMPH TWO: What a strong lad you seem to be.
NYMPH ONE: Perhaps you should stay here with us, pretty one.
HYLAS: N-N-No, I must be getting back to Heracles.
NYMPH TWO: We will make it worth your time. Tee hee.
HYLAS: No . . . I think . . . Let me go!
NYMPH ONE: I have his hand, sister. What a strong hand!
NYMPH TWO: Come into the pool with us, beauty.
HYLAS: I . . . no . . .
NYMPH ONE: (angrier) Stay with us.
NYMPH TWO: Forever.
NARRATOR: Before he could react, the two nymphs pulled the poor young boy into the pool. Below the surface, they caressed him as he struggled for breath.
Soon, amid their adoration, he stopped thrashing, and life left him. The nymphs cooed bubbles of pleasure. And there, in the bottom of their enchanted pool, they kept the body of Hylas as their eternal plaything—his beauty forever still.
HERACLES: (shouting) Hylas! Hylas!
NARRATOR: The Argonauts, fearing the worst, had swept the woods for a sign of the missing boy. There had been no trace of him, but Heracles refused to leave without his precious armor-bearer.
ATALANTA: Heracles! We must go! Whatever got him might come back for us!
HERACLES: (emotionally) I refuse!
JASON: But that means you have to stay behind!
HERACLES: So be it.
ORPHEUS: Oh well.
JASON: You’ve got to do what you think is best. Farewell, Heracles. Thank you for your help.
HERACLES: I am sorry that I could not have been of more help, but the lad is like my son. I must find him, no matter how long it takes. Farewell.
NARRATOR: With that, Heracles turned and started walking. His shadow was lost amongst the trees.
He would wander for many years, searching for Hylas, shouting his name at every step, scouring the Earth, but the young boy would never be found.
JASON: Well, let’s go.
NARRATOR: It was with sad faces that the crew hoisted the sail and set the Argo back out to sea. They continued toward Colchis.
The next leg of the voyage proved uneventful. Atalanta kept watch on the sea for signs of danger, but no danger came. Supplies once again ran low, but the last time they had gone inland, they had lost two of their men.
JASON: We must go ashore. We will take only a few men—as many as can be spared.
ATALANTA: I’m coming, too.
JASON: Of course, I count you among the men.
ATALANTA: (satisfied) Good.
NARRATOR: So they went ashore on a dark island—Atalanta, Jason, and Orpheus—taking a few Argonauts along. There could be no telling what they would find and the fewer lives risked, the better.
ORPHEUS: (matter-of-factly) There are Harpies on this island.
ATALANTA: Sssshhh! How could you know that?
ORPHEUS: Just a sixth sense. Whenever something bad’s about to happen, I always feel it.
ATALANTA: What about something good?
ORPHEUS: (surprised) Something good? I don’t think that’s ever happened.
NARRATOR: Above the trees far ahead, a plateau rose before their view. In the middle of this high spot, there was set a long table and seated at it, the figure of a one old man.
ATALANTA: A man! There! Let us ask him where to find fresh water!
NARRATOR: They climbed the steep embankment that led up to where the man sat. The table before him was covered with food—exotic dishes, suckled meats, fine pies, anything the body could wish for—yet the man sitting at it looked feeble and emaciated. When the group approached, he did not look up.
JASON: Old man, can you tell us where we might find . . . ?
NARRATOR: The old man looked up—his eyes unglazed—and he jumped.
PHINEUS: Ghosts? Or are you real?
JASON: We are real. We don’t want to hurt you, we just need information.
PHINEUS: (crazy) Visions of the future! Spirits from the past! What is the present? Who knows, who knows?
ATALANTA: I think he has gone senile.
ORPHEUS: Lucky.
JASON: We only need to know where to find . . .
NARRATOR: But he was cut off. The old man began to scream, falling from his chair, shrieking to the skies.
(screeching of the Harpies)
PHINEUS: (screaming) The Hounds of Zeus!
NARRATOR: Swooping low, three winged creatures darted from the sky. Atalanta pulled Jason to the ground. The beasts shrieked as they came—Harpies, head of a woman, body of a bird. A stench came with them, a stench that made it impossible to breathe.
ATALANTA: We’re trapped!
NARRATOR: But they did not move to attack the travelers or the old man. They stopped their dives and flapped their foul wings above the food on the table. As the three watched, the green of their stench caused the food to wilt—puckering with foulness. The Harpies let out laughing cries as they watched with crazed eyes.
(Harpy screech)
ORPHEUS: What are they doing to the food?
NARRATOR: The old man had crawled close to them. At this question, he flinched and looked Orpheus’ way.
PHINEUS: They are my curse, my curse. I have offended Zeus with my prophecies. I am doomed to stay on this island—starving—for eternity.
JASON: (whispering) Why do you not eat?
PHINEUS: The Harpies, the Harpies come and ruin my food before I can even think of touching it. That is my punishment. Tomorrow, the food will be restored, and a new day of torture will begin! Food, oh precious food! (pause) Do you perhaps have some on you?
JASON: No, we were hoping you had some.
ATALANTA: (angry) Gods or no gods, no creature should suffer such a fate!
NARRATOR: Atalanta raised up, bow in her hand, and released a shaft. A nearby Harpy shrieked—an arrow in its shoulder—and turned its cruel talons toward her. Atalanta already had another arrow notched into her bow.
But the Harpies did not fly forward. They hovered in midair, perfectly still. To her surprise, Atalanta found that she was not able to move.
PHINEUS: Gods above! What’s happening?
NARRATOR: The air started to flash, color coming from everywhere—blue, red, green, yellow, orange—and then there was the outline of a woman in the midst of the light, a regal woman with purple eyes.
IRIS: I am Iris, the messenger of Hera. I have stopped you.
ATALANTA: (through clenched lips) Why?
IRIS: No man or woman may kill the Harpies. They are the Hounds of Zeus.
ATALANTA: Watch me.
IRIS: You would do well to learn some respect for those above you, girl. There is no need for your theatrics. Because of your bravery, Heaven has declared Phineus’ punishment ended. The Harpies will no longer plague him.
NARRATOR: Atalanta found she could move again.
PHINEUS: Thank you, oh thank you, beautiful messenger of the gods.
IRIS: I have not saved you. These Argonauts have. Give them your thanks.
PHINEUS: (turning to Jason) I am a great seer. Tell me where you are going! I know the way from here to any country.
JASON: We seek Colchis and the Golden Fleece.
PHINEUS: The Fleece! A mighty quest! But know this: Between this shore and that, two great rocks rise out of the ocean. A terrible danger awaits between them. They rise out of the water and smash ships to smithereens!
ATALANTA: I have heard of these rocks.
PHINEUS: If you sail between them, they shall crush your craft.
JASON: Is there a way around them?
PHINEUS: No, not to Colchis. But do this: Capture a bird on these shores. Let the bird fly between the rocks. They will crush it. Then, when they are lowering from their attack, quickly sail through.
JASON: Will that actually work?
ORPHEUS: Probably not.
PHINEUS: You shall reach Colchis. I have seen it. Many thanks to you, Jason, for saving me, an old man.
IRIS: The voyage must be continued. Hera has smiled upon you, but you must be quick. The Colchians already know of your coming. Sail well, young Jason.
NARRATOR: Iris raised her hand, and the world about them filled with radiant light. They blinked. They were back on their ship—supplies piled around them.
ORPHEUS: That was easy.
NARRATOR: And so they set sail once again. When they neared the two gigantic, clashing rocks that Phineus had spoken of, they released a dove. It met its death between the crags, but as the rocks lowered into the water, the Argo sailed between them.
In front of them in the distance spread out a flat, dry country: Colchis. They had made it.
MEDEA: Visitors to the throne, father—Greeks.
ÆETES: (hoarsely, almost a whisper) Let them in, let them in.
NARRATOR: The band of travelers now stood before the throne of the King of Colchis. King Æetes, aged beyond time, still remembered when young Phrixus had visited his realm. Times had changed. He was no longer the trusting, kind man he once was. Age had soured him.
ÆETES: You must speak for me, daughter. My voice is nearly gone.
MEDEA: (sarcastically) Yes, Medea the witch. Medea, the speaker for those who cannot speak.
JASON: Hail, King Æetes, ruler of Colchis and keeper of the Golden Fleece.
MEDEA: Greeks, to what do we owe this honor? His majesty is not lightly troubled. If we were not civilized people, your heads would have been cut from your necks before you reached the shore.
ATALANTA: (under her breath) Hardly.
JASON: We have come to claim the Golden Fleece.
MEDEA: The Fleece? (laughs) My father will give the Fleece to no one, especially not a filthy Greek.
JASON: We have come for the Fleece. If you won’t give it to us, we will have to take it.
MEDEA: Yes, you are all quite frightening—all five of you. I see no danger of the Fleece going anywhere.
ÆETES: (hoarsely) Medea, Medea, tell them that we will give them the Fleece.
MEDEA: (quietly) What? Father, are you mad?
ÆETES: They must first complete a task for us—one that can never be completed. In this manner, we can kill these trespassers without spilling our own blood.
MEDEA: (sarcastically) What a wise father I have. (loudly) Greeks, we have decided that we shall give you the Fleece . . . if you pledge to complete a task of our choosing.
ATALANTA: It’s a trap. Don’t do it, Jason.
JASON: How else will we get it?
MEDEA: If you complete this task successfully, the Fleece shall be yours. If you fail, your men shall return home—empty-handed.
JASON: We will take this challenge.
MEDEA: Good. We shall meet on the plain that lies between this palace and your ship tomorrow. Bring nothing but your sword. You shall face the challenge alone, bold one. If you fail, I will dance upon your corpse.
ORPHEUS: That’s a pleasant thought.
NARRATOR: And so they were dismissed. As they walked back to the ship, Atalanta stalked ahead.
ATALANTA: Stupid, stupid, stupid! They will give you an impossible task! Then where will we be?
JASON: At least only I will lose my life. This is my quest, after all.
ATALANTA: Stupid!
NARRATOR: Night fell, but Jason found he could not sleep. Tomorrow he faced his destiny, but what would the task be? How can you prepare for a trial if you do not know what it will be? His mind continued to conjure up one fearsome creature after the next. He was no Heracles.
High above, Hera was looking down upon him. She had seen him safely thus far, but success in this matter would take more power than just hers.
She walked silently through the halls of Olympus to the sitting room of her cousin and nemesis, the mighty Aphrodite.
APHRODITE: (sweet voice) Hera? To what do I owe this pleasure?
HERA: Oh, please. Drop the act. You hate me as much as I hate you, but I have come to strike a deal.
APHRODITE: (sarcastically) Getting right to the point, I see. What do you want?
HERA: I know that your cuddly little son, Eros, has a certain bow and arrows that produce love. I require his services.
APHRODITE: Ah, but these services do not come lightly. If you, Queen of Heaven, require my help, you must give me something in return . . .
HERA: (coldly) You may name your price.
APHRODITE: Gladly. My ugly husband no longer excites me. His looks leave something to be desired. I grow bored. Therefore, I have turned my attentions elsewhere.
HERA: It is not my concern that you are sleeping in someone else’s bed. If it were, I would always be concerned.
APHRODITE: Nice, but Hephaestus grows suspicious. He suspects that I share a bed with the God of War, your mightier son.
HERA: Is there a bed you do not share?
APHRODITE: Cute. (pause) You are his mother. Soothe his concerns. Blind him to my actions, and I will grant you this favor.
HERA: It will be done.
APHRODITE: Now, this arrow doesn’t have anything to do with the handsome Jason, does it?
NARRATOR: And so a bargain was struck. That night as Medea watched the Greek ships from afar, Eros fired one of his magical arrows into her heart.
The sorceress was overcome with instant passion for the man who had so infuriated her before. What was happening? She nearly swooned when she realized that earlier that day she had sentenced him to death.
JASON: Master, master, what do I do now?
MEDEA: Pssst.
JASON: (startled) Who’s there?
NARRATOR: A cloaked figure approached across the sands to where the Argonauts were encamped. The hood was thrown back, revealing a face: It was the Princess Medea.
JASON: (surprised) You!
MEDEA: (passionately) Yes, me. There is little time. I have sent you to your death.
JASON: What do you mean?
MEDEA: The task you will face tomorrow is impossible. My father owns a pair of fire-breathing bulls—fearsome creatures that are untamable—but he will ask you to yoke them, drive them, and use them to plow the field.
JASON: That doesn’t sound easy.
MEDEA: That’s not all. He will ask you to sow the field with the teeth of a dragon. Once these teeth have been planted, they will instantly grow into an army of phantom warriors—too many to conquer. Even if you managed to harness the bulls, you could never defeat this army.
JASON: I don’t understand. If I can’t change anything, why are you telling me?
MEDEA: But you can. That is why I have come. I cannot bear to see you die.
JASON: (confused) Has something changed?
MEDEA: Everything. (pause) I am a sorceress. I can help you. Here, take this ointment. Cover your body with it. It will protect you from the fire of the bulls.
JASON: Great, but what about the army?
MEDEA: This.
NARRATOR: She held up a simple rock.
JASON: A rock?
MEDEA: Yes, there is a secret to defeating the men who spring from the dragon’s teeth. Throw this rock into their midst, and they will turn upon one another—slaying themselves.
JASON: Fantastic.
NARRATOR: Suddenly, Jason paused. Was this another trick? Medea had seemed so cold and cruel in the throne room earlier that day.
JASON: Why are you doing this?
MEDEA: (sadly) Isn’t it obvious? (pause) I do all this for you, but I ask one thing.
JASON: Name it.
MEDEA: You must take me back to Greece with you and make me your wife.
NARRATOR: Jason thought. He barely knew this girl—a girl who had recently smiled at the prospect of his death. Now, she was asking to be his bride?
He knew he had no choice. He could not do this task on his own.
JASON: I swear it.
NARRATOR: Medea smiled in spite of herself.
MEDEA: Until tomorrow then, handsome Jason. Fight well.
NARRATOR: She slipped back into the night as quickly as she had come. Even with his victory at hand, Jason still couldn’t sleep. Had he done the right thing? The morning broke bright on the barrenness of Colchis. The King Æetes was seated, overlooking the testing field, with his nobles. Medea was at his side, hiding the emotions she felt welling up inside of her. Jason took the field—sword and stone in hand. The Argonauts crowded eagerly around, anxiously watching their leader.
MEDEA: (shouting) King Æetes wishes that you die well. You have been given your task. Release the bulls.
NARRATOR: From a great iron wagon, two giant bulls charged forth—their thick hide bristling with spikes—their breath flaming out before them. Atalanta and Orpheus watched from the sidelines.
ATALANTA: Stupid!
NARRATOR: At once, the bulls consumed Jason with a fiery blast from their heaving nostrils. The crowd gasped, but when the smoke cleared, Jason was still standing.
He picked up a long chain that lay in the dirt and threw it about the two beasts’ necks. They pulled away in surprise, but he had already hooked them to a large stone plow. As they pulled, the plow furrowed deep rows. Into these rows from a sack at his side, Jason dropped the dragon’s teeth he had been given that morning.
ATALANTA: What is he doing?
ORPHEUS: Who?
NARRATOR: As Medea had said they would, warriors began rising from the rows—metal helmets showing first, followed by fearsome torsos and brandished swords. There were hundreds of them. Jason turned to face them—rock in hand. He threw it into their midst. The deathless warriors fell upon one another—slashing and hacking until all of their bodies littered the ground. Medea breathed a secret sigh of relief as Jason turned to face the king victorious.
JASON: (winded) Your majesty, I have completed this task. I must ask for the Fleece.
NARRATOR: Shaking, the old king rose—fire in his eyes.
ÆETES: (hoarsely, but loudly) You shall have no fleece.
NARRATOR: Jason’s heart sank.
ATALANTA: (angrily) I don’t believe it! Cheaters!
MEDEA: (coldly) This man has obviously cheated. He will receive no prize.
NARRATOR: Jason started to object, but he saw a glimmer in Medea’s eye. She had anticipated this. So, by his command, the Greeks allowed the situation to pass. The king and his court returned to the palace, and the Argonauts slunk back to their ship.
Medea was already there when they returned.
ATALANTA: What does this witch want?
JASON: Atalanta, silence. It was she who helped me to live today.
MEDEA: Prepare your men to sail upon our return.
JASON: But the Fleece!
MEDEA: Exactly. We’re going to get it.
NARRATOR: She led Jason swiftly across the plain toward a distant grove of scraggly trees.
MEDEA: The Fleece is there.
JASON: There? Out in the open?
MEDEA: There is no need to hide it. It is guarded by a giant serpent—one who would love to sharpen his teeth with the bones of adventurers like you. Now, quickly.
NARRATOR: They entered the grove of Ares. Jason saw the serpent first—a mountain of green scales coiled around an ancient, gnarled tree. Then he saw the Fleece—the Golden Fleece—the object of all his travels. It hung on a branch, as if it had been forgotten there, shining like the sun. Every ordeal he had passed to behold such a thing was suddenly worth it. This was a treasure worth dying for.
MEDEA: I have fed the snake a powerful drug. Now I only need to lead him to sleep.
NARRATOR: Medea raised her arms into the air. Jason expected her to utter a spell, but instead, she started to sing. It was the strangest song he had ever heard. Mixed into the melody, he heard the voices of those he had once known—Chiron, his mother, his father—and other voices, voices he had not yet heard but someday would—his children, his wife . . .
Medea had stopped singing.
MEDEA: Now, my love, it is yours to take.
NARRATOR: Jason gave Medea a questioning look, but did not falter. He walked forward and climbed the side of the slumbering serpent. From this height, he was able to reach to the branch on which the Fleece hung, and he touched it, the treasure of kings.
MEDEA: Jason, time to flee.
NARRATOR: The Argonauts were making the final preparations to leave when they saw Medea and Jason’s figures swiftly covering the ground toward them. But another group of men with flashing shields was heading toward the boat as well—warriors from the palace.
MEDEA: Faster! My brother comes with troops! My father has discovered my treachery!
ATALANTA: Jason approaches! Ready the ship!
NARRATOR: Jason reached the boat and quickly jumped inside. He turned to help Medea in as well, but she was not there. She was running swiftly toward the approaching soldiers.
MEDEA: Brother! I can explain! Stop your march! A truce!
NARRATOR: The Colchian soldiers halted when they saw the princess. A lone man came forward to meet with Medea—her brother, the prince. When he drew near to her, a knife glinted in the sun, drawn from under her robe. They all gasped as she drove it into his throat.
Before Jason could react, he felt Medea beside him.
MEDEA: That should keep them for a while. Let’s go.
NARRATOR: And so, with the fresh corpse of Medea’s brother lying in the sun, the Argonauts pushed away from Colchis with their prize.
Jason pulled out the Fleece, and everyone stared. Medea flashed him a coy grin. He shuddered. This was a woman who had just murdered her own brother.
The trip home was filled with many perils, but the Argonauts had Medea. Time and time again, she saved them from certain death—all for the love of her Jason.
When they reached the shores of Jason’s kingdom, it was time for him to say goodbye to his most trusted companions, those with whom he had shared the journey of a lifetime.
JASON: Goodbye, Atalanta. I never could have made it without you.
ATALANTA: I know. But you weren’t too bad yourself.
JASON: And Orpheus, your songs are truly the greatest in the world. I hope someday you find some happiness.
ORPHEUS: I’m not going to hold my breath.
JASON: Now, I must go face cousin Pelias myself. I have my prize. Thanks to you. Farewell.
NARRATOR: Atalanta and Orpheus sauntered into the distance—and into legend. Jason never saw or heard from them again. He and Medea now turned toward the castle. She reached and grabbed his hand and pulled him close to her. Inside, he recoiled.
MEDEA: Love, you owe this man nothing. You have proved yourself to all by merely getting the Fleece. He will not give you his kingdom freely. It’s too dangerous to appear before him. Let me play a trick upon him. He deserves such a trick for what he did to you, and he will get his due reward.
NARRATOR: Jason agreed to let Medea deal with the king. Swathed in her sorceress garb, Medea requested an audience before the king. Pelias had grown even older and fatter. His days were slipping by him. In his presence she declared herself a sorceress, one who had discovered the spell of eternal life. To demonstrate, she brought forth a gray sheep, withered with age. She took her knife, cut it apart, and threw it into her bubbling cauldron. Chanting and dancing, Medea circled the pot, and to the amazement of all the court, a newborn lamb sprang forth from the rising smoke of the spell.
PELIAS: Witch, you work your spell well! This rite must be performed on me!
NARRATOR: Medea instructed the daughters of Pelias, dressed in ceremonial black, to cut their father apart with knives, bit by bit, and place these pieces in the cauldron. Medea chanted as his dying cries filled the throne room. When the grisly task was done, every eye was on the boiling pot. But no young king sprang forth.
MEDEA: (spitting) So passes an evil king. (evil laugh)
NARRATOR: The entire court gasped. Medea’s eyes flashed, and she disappeared in a cloud of smoke. When Jason learned what Medea had done, he was horrified. This was not what the way a king should regain his kingdom. Chiron would be ashamed. This girl had cursed him.
JASON: Woman, you have shamed me. Why did you do such an evil thing?
MEDEA: To prove my love. Now, you must prove yours. You must marry me.
JASON: I have promised that I will do so, but I will not take back this kingdom. It was taken through witchcraft and deceit. I want nothing to do with it.
NARRATOR: So the two fled the kingdom Jason had journeyed so far to reclaim and came to a new kingdom. There he pledged himself to Medea, but they did not marry. She bore him two sons. He had heard them laughing long ago in Medea’s song. As he grew older, they were the one tiny bit of happiness in his life.
He often thought of old Chiron and his great adventure for the Golden Fleece. The Fleece hung as a relic now in his meeting hall, along with the remains of the Argo, suspended from the ceiling. But they were meaningless now. Where was the young man who once dreamt great dreams? How had this woman poisoned him?
Then, one day, the king of his new realm came to visit and with him he brought his beautiful daughter. He had heard of Jason’s great deeds and his forgotten kingdom. He deemed him to be a worthy match for his radiant girl.
Jason looked into her eyes. In them, he saw hope. This was his love, not the black-hearted creature who shared his bed. He felt young again, and rashly, he pledged to be her husband.
Up on Olympus, Hera mourned.
HERA: Oh, Jason, had I known what trouble I would bring you, I would have never asked for the arrows of love. Now, this witch will take her revenge and ruin the beautiful hero I have created. I will remember you, Jason, as you once were—shining and young. Great was your rise, great will be your fall.
NARRATOR: When Medea heard of the engagement, she was infuriated. The magic of Eros had grown thin. Love no longer controlled her heart. Hatred lived there instead.
MEDEA: (crazy) Deceiver! After all I have done for him! All that I have gone through! I have borne him sons! I have forsaken my dead father, killed my own brother, left my home—for what? For what? I shall poison his bride and erase all happiness from his life!
NARRATOR: In her madness, she took a royal gown and sewed it with a poison so that anyone who wore it would be consumed in flame. She sent it as an anonymous wedding present to Jason’s fiancé. She then took her two young sons into a closed room—dagger in her hand. Their innocent minds thought nothing was wrong.
MEDEA: I will destroy everything he has ever loved. I have given them life, and I can take it from them.
NARRATOR: The coldness of her heart became the coldness of her hand as she put the dagger to her own sons.
Screaming in anger, their blood on her gown, she ran to the roof. There she conjured herself a chariot pulled by two dragons, and jumping inside, she laughed insanely, for her revenge was completed.
MEDEA: (crazed laugh)
NARRATOR: The chariot took to the sky, and she was taken out of Jason’s life forever.
The news came to Jason all at once. His bride-to-be had been consumed in flames, as was her father in an effort to save her. His children were murdered. His mad-witch wife had fled to the skies. He was numb. He wanted to cry, but he could not. He stumbled into his meeting hall where the remnants of his once great ship, the Argo, hung suspended from the ceiling. All of his life, all of his adventures had come to this. How had he been so foolish? Through a window he could see the sky. The stars were just beginning to appear. He saw his old master forming in them.
JASON: (sobbing) Master, why? I don’t want to live. Gods above, take me from this world!
NARRATOR: As if in answer to his prayer, he heard a dry rope crack. He closed his eyes and smiled. Hera had heard his final cry.
With a great groan, the skeleton of the Argo crashed down upon him, and in that moment, he was free. Free from the pain of the world, free from grief. All was blackness around him. He saw a great black river, and on the far side, the silhouette of his old master, beckoning him home.
DISCUSS
ANALYZE
Legendary filmmaker Alfred Hitchcock developed the term MacGuffin to describe the object within a story that drives the action forward. The MacGuffin is something that the characters in the story want or search for: It could be money, a jewel, government secrets, or even the Holy Grail. It can even turn out to be completely inconsequential, but as long as the characters are willing to sacrifice anything to obtain it, the MacGuffin serves its purpose. In the myth of Jason, the Golden Fleece serves as the MacGuffin, as it is the object the Argonauts journey for, yet ultimately its only purpose in the story is to prompt the quest.
FUN FACT
Greek mythology contains only two witches—one is Circe, the enchantress who delays Odysseus on his journey home, and the other is Medea. Interestingly, Circe is actually Medea’s aunt, as she is the sister of King Æetes. Although most witches in European fairy tales appear as old hags, Medea and Circe are young and beautiful. The magic practiced by Greek witches comes from potions and rituals, rather than spoken spells. One etymologist theorized that the word medicine actually derived from Medea’s name.
VIEW
View either Jason and the Argonauts (1963) or Jason and the Argonauts (2000) and compare it to the original myth. The first is a feature film that contains stop-motion monsters by legendary special effects artist Ray Harryhausen. The second is a 3-hour made-for-TV miniseries.
Creature Feature: Golden Ram, Golden Fleece
A fleece (the wooly hide of a ram) may seem like an odd object to quest after—no matter how much gold is laid over it—but like most magical objects, the Golden Fleece has an interesting back-story. A powerful Greek king, tricked by his new wife and a crooked oracle, agreed to sacrifice his own children to prevent a widespread famine. As the king led his children, a boy named Phrixus and a girl named Helle, to their own execution, there appeared to the children a golden ram, a magical beast sent by Hermes to rescue them. Phrixus and Helle jumped upon the ram’s back, and it took to the sky, bearing them forever away from their father and wicked stepmother. They flew far to the east, and as they passed over the sea, Helle lost her grip on the ram’s golden wool and fell down into the sea. The Hellespont, the strait where she drowned, was named for her. The ram set Phrixus down in the country of Colchis, a kingdom beyond the Black Sea. As the gods demanded, the boy skinned the magical beast and presented its fleece to the young king of that country, King Æetes, in thanks for giving him a new home. The king hung the fleece from a tree in the sacred grove of Ares and guarded it with an enormous serpent that never slept.
Creature Feature: Chiron and the Centaurs
Centaurs were half-man, half-horse creatures known for their savage behavior—murder and rape being two of their favorite pastimes. Chiron, a wise centaur renowned throughout Greece for training heroes, was an exception to his race. The reason for this was his raising. Apollo and Artemis, the twin gods, found him as an orphaned “colt” and raised him up to be wise and caring. His most famous pupils were Jason (leader of the Argonauts), Achilles (Greece’s greatest warrior), Aesculapius (a legendary healer), and Actaeon (a renowned hunter). After his death, Zeus transformed Chiron into a constellation in recognition for his many good deeds.
The Harpies
Harpies were foul-smelling creatures with the head of a woman and the body of a bird. They were frequently referred to as the “Hounds of Zeus,” as the god used them to punish offending mortals. Today a woman who is rude and shrill is referred to as a harpy.
Teamwork: The Argonauts, the Original Super-Group
The Argonauts do not have a multimillion-dollar movie franchise like the X-Men do, but they might deserve one. After all, the Argonauts were the original super-group—a collection of previously established heroes who joined forces to complete a common goal. Even though the ancient Greek heroes do not have secret identities or the ability to shoot laser beams out of their eyes, they are still the ancient equivalent of modern superheroes. (The sons of Boreas, the North Wind, who were present on Jason’s voyage in the original myth, were able to fly—which is getting closer. Plus, Heracles did have some amazing super-strength, not to mention some Incredible Hulk-like rages.) Heroes teaming up is an idea that sells, and the enduring myth of Jason tells us it has been selling for nearly 3,000 years.
Even powerful heroes realize the importance of teamwork. By the time the Argo sailed, the Greek heroes had already achieved some amazing individual feats: Atalanta hunted the Calydonian Boar, Orpheus descended into the Underworld, and Heracles completed 12 impossible labors. Yet when they signed up to accompany Jason on his mission to Colchis, they put their egos to the side and accepted the role of a team member—which was probably not easy for such widely renowned heroes. They all accepted the leadership of Jason, an inexperienced young man, for one simple reason: It was his quest, not theirs.
Even a legendary team like the Argonauts would be worthless without a good leader. Over the course of the story, Jason proves himself to be as much a hero as the rest of his companions by his resolve and determination to reach his goal. There is a saying concerning leadership: “In order to be a good leader, you must be a good follower.” Jason asks others for advice, takes their suggestions, and uses their strengths—coupled with his own—to achieve success. Leaders should never be too proud to accept the help of others.
The Quest for the Golden Fleece was a heroic catch-all for storytellers. Because it was a group expedition, more and more heroes were added to the impressive list of members. (In the version of the story found in this book, that list has been shorted considerably for the sake of clarity.) The Dioscuri twins, Castor and Polydeuces, the brothers of the infamous Helen of Sparta, were famous warriors in their own rite. Also the Boreads, the sons of the North Wind Boreas, used their flying powers to battle the Harpies. Peleus, the father of Achilles, was there as well—not nearly famous as his son would become, but a hero nevertheless. Theseus, the hero who killed the Minotaur, appears on some versions of the roster; he was probably an afterthought—because almost all of the other heroes were along for the ride, why not him, too?
In spite of all of this heroic prowess, it is not the accompanying heroes (or even Jason, for that matter) who really determine the mission’s success. The Colchian witch they add to their group, the deadly beautiful daughter of a king, is the true key to their success. She made it possible for Jason to obtain the Golden Fleece, she murdered her own brother to ensure their escape, and she stopped a giant bronze giant, Talos, from crushing their ship as they sailed by his island. When the Argonauts return safely to Greece and the Argonauts disband, Jason had seemingly forgotten that he had forged an even smaller team—a team of two— just Medea and himself. Ultimately, he betrayed that team and suffered a brutal revenge.
DISCUSS
ANALYZE
Comic books such as the Justice League, Teen Titans, and The Avengers combine established superheroes into crime-fighting teams—similar to what happens in the story of the Golden Fleece. Why is it interesting to read about superheroes working together rather than individually? Explain.
Atalanta
Atalanta is the only female hero in Greek mythology. As a baby she was abandoned in the wilderness by her kingly father, who had been hoping for a son, but was saved from death by a passing she-bear that nursed her as its own cub. A band of hunters later took her in, raised her, and trained her to love the hunt. Atalanta gained fame during the hunt for the Calydonian Boar, a gigantic boar that was terrorizing the Greek city-state of Calydon. During the hunt, she earned the love of Prince Meleager of Calydon, but she was sworn to virginity in the tradition of the huntress-goddess Artemis. The hunters were successful in killing the boar, but when Prince Meleager’s uncles refused to give Atalanta the honor of the kill, he slew them. In retribution, the prince was murdered by his own mother. Atalanta mourned his death but went on to many more adventures—including her trip on the Argo.
Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea
The sea was a place that the Greeks knew very well, and because the Greeks were a sea-faring people, sea voyages play a large part in their myths. Homer used the adjective wine-dark to describe the color of the sea, which is odd because most Mediterranean waters are beautifully blue. The most famous sea voyage is the Odyssey, Homer’s account of Odysseus’ 10-year journey home from the war at Troy, while Jason and his journey for the Golden Fleece is a close second. Historians have used details found in the myths, as well as archeological and historical records, to gain an accurate picture of what sailing was like for the characters of Greek mythology.
The type of ship used by the heroes of Greek mythology is called a Bronze Age galley. The ship was probably built of pine because Greece was well-forested in those days and pine was abundant. Painted on most bows were a pair of eyes, above which rose a figurehead, a carving of a mortal or god. Everywhere else the hull was blackened from the pitch that sealed it. Ships in Greek mythology are labeled as black because of the pitch used. Each ship was equipped with sails, but relied mainly on oar power. Some ships of the time could seat 25 men on one side. Fortunately for those rowing, the ships were designed with a narrow hull and built for speed. The rowing was very physically demanding, and sailors probably rowed in shifts, letting half the men rest while the others rowed to keep a fresh reserve of manpower. The pilot, standing on the stern of the ship, maneuvered the steering oar to guide the vessel. Sailors stowed their gear—shields, spears, and swords—under the galley benches. Just in case they were attacked, weapons would be at the ready. The supply of grain would be kept in leather bags; water and wine would be stored in jars or skin bottles.
The Greeks knew the sea was a dangerous place. The second-mostfeared god behind Zeus was Poseidon. The god of the blue mane was labeled the Earth-shaker for a good reason: With a swirl of his trident he could summon storms and sink ships without batting an eye. The Greeks were cautious sailors. Rather than striking out over open sea, like the Vikings frequently did, Greek sailors preferred to sail close to the coastline and, in many cases, island-hop their way across the sea. If at all possible, the ship would beach each night or at least anchor in a safe cove. The men would go ashore, refill their water jars, make their fire for a meal, and sleep out in the open. If they were lucky, they might find a nearby cave to take shelter in. Of course, by going ashore they ran the risk of being ambushed by local villagers, who could slit their throats and make off with what provisions they had. Another advantage of ships sticking close to the coast was that, at the sight of an approaching storm, the sailors could beach the ship and stay ashore until it had passed. On the occasions when night-sailing was imperative, sailors navigated by the stars.
Although the portions of the sea nearest Greece were familiar to sailors, the further one journeyed to the east or west, the more unfamiliar the territory became. Stories about deadly obstacles and fearsome monsters waiting to snap up ships kept sailors close to home. Faraway places such as Colchis on the far side of the Black Sea were almost imaginary—way beyond the known world. Only heroes ventured to these far reaches of the sea and lived to tell about it.
Heracles: The True Story
The Greeks revered Heracles (called Hercules by the Romans) as their greatest hero. He accomplished almost every great deed there was to do. He once held up the weight of the sky, he founded the Olympics, he created the Milky Way, and when it was all over, he became a god. His is quite the résumé.
It is said that when Zeus fathered Heracles, he set out to make the greatest hero of all time. From the moment baby Heracles entered the world, he was a focus of Hera’s hatred. The goddess hated any child who was the result of her husband’s numerous affairs, and she decided to destroy Heracles while he was still in the cradle. Two deadly snakes, conjured by Hera, slithered into the crib where the baby lay. But Heracles was no ordinary baby. Taking the snakes into his chubby hands and laughing at their attempts to escape, Heracles twisted and choked the life from them. This was his first heroic deed.
Alcmena, the mother of Heracles, discovered the dead snakes and took them as a sign that the gods wanted her baby dead. Fearing for her own life if she stood in their way, Alcmena abandoned her son in the countryside. There, the starving Heracles would have died if Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom (his half-sister), had not found him. In order to prevent his death, Athena saw he would need divine milk. Only Hera, a mother herself, could help, but she would never nurse the infant she was trying to destroy. So Athena devised a trick.
Asking the Queen of Olympus to join her in a walk, Athena led Hera through the forest to the very spot where Heracles lay. Hera, not recognizing the baby (she thought he had died by snakebite as planned), took pity and began to nurse him. At once the goddess realized that she had been tricked: This baby was no normal mortal child. When she tried to remove him, Heracles clamped down upon her breast. Hera cried out, and when she finally succeeded in yanking the child away, milk sprayed across the heavens. This event explains the misty path seen in the night sky called the Milky Way. Outraged, Hera turned to destroy the baby once and for all, but Athena had spirited him safely back to his relieved mother.
Heracles grew up and started to make a name for himself. In one of his early deeds, he defeated the Lion of Nemea, whose skin could not be pierced. Because weapons were no good against the beast, Heracles strangled it to death. Afterward, as a reminder of just how powerful he was, Heracles wore the lion’s skin as a cloak. The King of Nemea was so impressed with Heracles that he asked him to spend the night with each of his 50 daughters. In one night Heracles gave the king 50 new grandsons, all imbued with their father’s heroic might.
After many adventures in his younger days, Heracles decided to settle down by marrying a princess and starting a family. But Hera, who had time and time again failed in destroying him, saw a perfect chance to ruin his heroic career. She cast a spell of madness over Heracles, a blood-frenzy. In a blind, murderous rage, Heracles murdered his wife and sons. When he returned to his right mind, he saw his new family dead at his feet and their blood upon his hands.
The hero was devastated, yet he did not commit suicide as Hera had hoped. Instead Heracles journeyed to Delphi to speak to the Oracle, who alone could tell him how to receive forgiveness for his horrible crime. Her words were not comforting: Heracles had committed the ultimate sin; therefore, his punishment would be an arduous string of nearly impossible feats. He would swear to serve the corrupt King Eurystheus, a tyrant known his cruel-heartedness, and complete without question whatever 12 tasks the king asked him to do. If he refused or failed, Heracles would be cursed by the gods forever.
The strongman did as the Oracle commanded, giving himself over to the will of the wicked king. Eurystheus relished his job as punisher and, receiving divine inspiration from Hera, sent the hero on every doomed mission he could. But to his growing amazement, Heracles returned from each journey successful. In fact, it was during these 12 labors (as they came to be called) that Heracles became even more famous than before. Infuriated by the hero’s many successes, Eurystheus chose for the final deed a task he thought for sure no mortal could ever achieve. He commanded Heracles to descend to the Underworld and bring back Cerberus, the three-headed hell-hound.
Heracles did not bat an eye. He forged into the depths of Hades and returned, dragging the enormous hound into the King’s hall. Terrified at the sight of the beast’s foaming jaws, Eurystheus scurried inside the large urn that sat beside his throne and weakly declared that the 12 labors had been completed as promised. Heracles had proved he was the greatest of all heroes and cleared his named for good.
In an attempt to return to a normal life, the hero remarried. He lived happily for a number of years until his wife, Deianira, began to fear that he was in love with another woman. To rekindle his passion, she presented her husband with a cloak she had sprinkled with a love potion, or so she thought. Unfortunately, the centaur who gave her the love potion had tricked her, and it was actually a flesh-eating poison.
As soon as Heracles wrapped the cloak around him, it began to burn away his skin. He cried out and tried to pull it loose, but the cloak had already grafted itself to his body and bits of flesh came with it. Deianira fled in terror and hanged herself in shame. In unendurable torment Heracles, sure that his defeat had come, presented his legendary bow and arrow to a trusted companion and commanded that a funeral pyre be built.
When the fire was prepared, Heracles laid down upon it—ending his life and his suffering. The spirit of Heracles began to descend into the Underworld, but Zeus, watching his son’s final moments from on high, stopped its descent, summoning it instead to Olympus. Zeus declared that Heracles, in return for his many brave deeds, would not die as a mortal man but would become a god of Olympus. All of the gods gathered there rejoiced (even Hera, who could no longer resist the hero’s charm). Appearing in his new godly form, Heracles was married to Hebe, the Goddess of Youth, and has lived on Olympus ever since.
DISCUSS
VIEW
Watch Disney’s Hercules. How have the events of the story changed? Do you think these changes are necessary? Explain.
Medea: Victim or Villain?
Medea emerges from Greek mythology as one of its most despicable characters. She has quite a rap sheet. She’s guilty of both filicide (the murder of her sons) and fratricide (not only does she murder her brother in the original myth, but also cuts him into tiny pieces), the assassination of two kings (the evil King Pelias, Jason’s cousin, and King Creon, Jason’s would-be father-in-law), and the fiery destruction of one princess (Jason’s fiancé, the princess Glauce) with a poisoned dress. It is hard to feel sorry for such a cold-blooded murderer, but does she deserve some pity?
The Greek playwright Euripides thought so, and his tragedy Medea put the Colchian witch at center stage, allowing her to plead her own case. Had she not been wronged? She gave up everything for Jason—only to have him betray her. In the play Medea’s actions are still cruel, but we are a given a clear look at her thought process. Weighing the consequences of such a brutal revenge against her own emotions, Medea is given complexity and reality. Here is a powerful woman, for good or for evil, who is able to perform the unthinkable. Under Euripides’ touch she is no longer a one-dimensional villain. She is alive, wounded, brutal, and savage. Her choices show us what a person is capable of when conscience has been eroded away by hurt. During a time when women were kept confined to the home, Euripides created a Medea who was every Greek man’s worst nightmare: a powerful, liberated, and dangerous wife.
The Roman poet Ovid, inspired by Euripides’ play, gave Medea a voice as well. His Heroides are letter-like poems written from the points of view of mythical female characters. In the following letter, Medea voices her frustration to Jason.
“Medea to Jason”
And yet I, a Colchian princess, had time for you, I recall,
when you came begging me to use my magic to help you. . . .
Why was I all too smitten with your golden locks, your good looks,
and that sweet-talking charm of your tongue?
I betrayed my father, gave up my kingdom and country.
My reward? I am allowed to live in exile. . . .
[then] you had the gall to say, “Take your leave of [my] house.”
So ordered, I vacated the house, accompanied by our two sons and
that ever-faithful companion, my love for you.
Then suddenly I heard the sound of Hymen’s wedding song. . . .
I was stricken with fear, but did not think such an outrage was possible.
Yet my heart was all encased in ice. . . .
Right then our younger boy . . .
said, “Come here, Mom! There’s a parade, and dad—Jason—is out front
leading it. He’s dressed in gold, driving a team of horses!”
Right then and there I ripped my dress and beat my breast,
and my cheeks were not safe from my fingernails.
I felt the urge to plunge into the middle of the crowd,
to fling that crown off her nicely coiffed hair. . . .
I have lost my kingdom, country, and home, and now I have been
abandoned by my husband, who was everything to me. . . .
A mistress now embraces the limbs I once saved,
and she enjoys the fruits of my labor.
Perhaps, while you flaunt yourself in front of your stupid wife
and speak the words her biased ears want to hear,
you will invent new slurs against my looks and behavior.
Let her laugh and take pleasure in my faults. . . .
She will weep, in flames that will exceed the heat of my passion.
So long as iron, flames, and magical poisons are at my disposal,
no enemy of Medea will go unpunished. . . .
Where my anger leads, I shall follow. Perhaps I’ll regret my actions.
But right now I regret having protected a traitorous husband.
Let this be the concern of the god that now stokes my heart.
Be sure, though, something truly momentous is stirring in my soul. (Brunet et al., 2004, p. 323)
Medea is not weak—and refuses to be weak. She strikes a blow against the man who has wronged her and destroys the life they have made together. In her own mind she has justified these actions, but what price has she paid for revenge?
DISCUSS
WRITE
Imagine Medea is put on trial for the murder of her children, the princess Glauce, and King Creon. Write a case for the prosecution or the defense. Share your case with the rest of the class.
Hera, Jason’s Heavenly Helper
In the story of Jason and the Argonauts, Hera takes on an unfamiliar role for herself. Typically when the goddess appears in a myth, she is the antagonist. In the story of the Trojan War, she is out to destroy Troy. In the story of Heracles, she is that hero’s greatest adversary. Therefore, it is strange to see a normally spiteful character in the role of divine benefactress.
In this book’s version of the story, Hera’s only reason for helping Jason is the fact that he is not a son of Zeus. (The exact phrase she uses is “the putrid offspring of your insatiable loins.” You may have to get a dictionary out to decipher that phrase, but it is worth it.) Almost all heroes claim to be the illegitimate children of Zeus. She hopes to prove to her husband that his genetic contribution is not what makes these heroes great. Any mortal can be a hero with the right kind of backing. Hera gives her backing to Jason, who is a heroic rarity—the son of two mortals.
Yet, in the original myth, there is another explanation for Hera’s generosity. While Jason is journeying to confront his cousin, he encounters an old woman on the bank of a river. The old woman asks him to bear her across the river on his back, as it is too swift for her to cross. Jason agrees, and when he has delivered her safely to the other side, she reveals herself to be Hera, Queen of Olympus. As it turns out, she has been poking about in her human disguise looking for displays of mortal nobility. In return for his kindness, she uses all of her power to help him achieve his quest.
No matter what motivated Hera to help Jason, this myth definitely proves that she is one Olympian that you want on your side.
DISCUSS
Eros (Roman: Cupid)
In most myths, Eros appears as a winged child, complete with chubby, cherubic features. This is the image most modern people associate with Cupid. In some tales, Eros appears as a winged teenager. He is the son of Aphrodite and the archer of love. His father’s identity is sketchy. Some say his father is Ares; others say Hephaestus. One story of Creation states that Eros is not the son of any god, but an elemental force that existed in the darkness before the world began. Two types of arrows can come from Eros. One type causes intense infatuation, an attraction that is usually sexual in nature. From this we get our words erotic and erogenous. The other type, instead of softening the heart, hardens it against all emotion. True to the nature of Love, Eros is mischievous. He may strike you with the arrow of love, but send the arrow of hard-heartedness into your beloved. The Greeks frequently showed him as wearing a blindfold, hence the saying, “Love is blind.”