This haunting and romantic song tells how Jason asked Medea to sail with him across the wine dark sea.

Composed and Sung by Gabriella Burnel
Drums and inspiration by Jayesh Vadukul
Guitar and Base by Drew Wynen
Words by Bertie
Engineer Felipe Elcanja
Recorded at Forward Motion Studios with thanks to Jas
Picture by Nick Hayes

Now stealing stealthily down to the sea
By the path I knew as a child,
I found the fobidden boat hidden
In a place that was dark and wild.

My sleepy pharmacy I’ll slip into the stream.
It is a powerful draught
The dragon drinks, to sleep he sinks
I’m a witch who knows her craft.

Now at last he took me in his arms,
And this is what he said,

“Sail with me, across the wine dark sea,
In my ship as swift as a thought.
By the Lady of Olympus, Hera the Lovely
I’ll marry you like I ought.”

I was so naive, I wanted to believe
I ached indeed with fever !
A man like this a woman would kiss,
And he would never leave her.

What a fool, I was, to loose my cool ,
And to be taken in by lies
A whirling, swirling, girly girl.
The sort I despise.

And now at last, with eyes downcast
The liar spoke the truth.
“Yes it’s true that I swore, but that was before
I had seen the awful proof.”

My life she saved, but her family she betrayed,
Her soul with sin is rife.”

And now at last, with eyes downcast
He was never to say again:

“Sail with me, across the wine dark sea,
In my ship as swift as a thought.
By the Lady of Olympus, Hera the Lovely
I’ll marry you like I ought.”

Pictures by Nick Hayes. Click to enlarge.

Please find the entire series filed under Greek Myths and don’t miss three fabulous songs which go with the story.

The final part of Jason and Medea is action packed. Jason must drive fierce bulls to plough Ares’ field, fight off an army of skeleton men, and take the Golden Fleece from the cave guarded by a dragon. Will the beautiful witch Medea help him? Will he keep his promises to her?

There is an postscript. The Greek writer, Euripides, penned a famous drama entitled Medea. He gave the tale a gory ending. But some people think Euripides made up his violent finale to slander the non-Greek Medea. We give the story our own twist in the final scene.

Read by Natasha Gostwick.
Pictures by Nick Hayes.
Music by Gabriella Burnel.
Words by Bertie.

Jason and Medea, The Story of the Golden Fleece, told in verse in four parts, by Storynory.
Part Four : The Escape

When the sun revealed the bright day at dawn
We gathered on Ares field.
The bulls snorted, they would not be thwarted,
And to the yoke they would not yield.

The crowd waited. My hero hesitated.
He did not hasten in.
But I knew he had bathed in the lotion I gave,
I saw it from his gleaming skin.

My father sneered “The Greek is Weak!”
The Riff-Raff jeered at his fear,
And the Argonauts resembled, schoolboys that trembled,
At a teacher that pulled their ears.

Then Jason took a running jump
Over the fence – he was in.
The bulls snorted, they would not be thwarted,
Let the battle begin.

Achilles himself could not match that dash,
You should have seen the strength of the boy
He broke the bulls in, he yoked them in.
He fought like a hero of Troy.

But it was me of course, who was the cause of his force,
The people had no notion,
That the king’s daughter had brought to Jason
Strength in a magic potion.

It was an amazing sight to see the bulls plough,
The black earth that knew no pity.
Their heavy hooves plodded the clods,
Beneath the walls of the city.

Then Jason took a tooth, and threw it in the groove
It came from the mouth of a beast.
The beast that guarded the golden fleece
The dragon beast of the East.

And another he sowed, in the earth’s fold
And another sunk into the ground.
And straight up they grew, into a deathly crew
The skeletons stood all around.

The bones of the attackers, clattered and spattered,
No doubt they were dealing in death.
The horror he fought like a hero ought,
With all the breath he had left.

And at last he cast a glance at my eyes
And he recalled the advice I had given.
He bended low to pick up a stone
And hurled it at the bulls he had driven.

And in a rage they engaged the army of death
The bulls tore them apart.
The skeleton men, were scattered again
All by the cunning of my art !

Now Jason claimed, from the king who had disdained him,
The prize of the Golden Fleece.
And the Argonauts shouted, “The enemy’s routed
We Claim the Fleece for Greece !”

But loosing is for losers, not for my Dad,
The king would not make peace.
“This upstart Greek has a terrible cheek,
“To claim the fleece for Greece.”

And his guards thundered, and seeing they were outnumbered,
The Argonauts slipped back to their boat
And the king of Colchis kissed by the gods
Had shamed our name by his gloat.

And full of indignation at the shame of our nation
To my father now I lied.
“I have an ache in my head, I am returning to bed.”
And my lie was justified.

Then stealing stealthily down to the sea
By the path I knew as a child,
I found the forbidden boat hidden
In a place that was dark and wild.

And having hastened to Jason, I told him my plan.
He said “The Dragon’s Horrific.”
Never mind, I said, I’ll put him to bed,
With my drugs that are soporific.

My sleepy pharmacy I’ll slip into the stream.
It is a powerful draught
And when the dragon drinks, into sleep he sinks
I’m a witch who knows her craft.

And now at last, he took me in his arms,
And this is what he said,

“Medea, my dear, you have no peer,
Back in Greece we shall wed.”

“Sail with me, across the wine dark sea,
In my ship as swift as a thought.
By the Lady of Olympus, Hera the Lovely
I’ll marry you like I ought.”

I was so naive, I was ready to believe
How I ached with fever !
A man like this a woman would kiss,
And never leave her.

What a fool, I was, to lose my cool ,
And to be taken in by lies
A whirling, swirling, girly girl.
The sort I despise.

And so that night, but the treacherous moon
I drugged the dragon’s spring.
And I put to bed, his terrible head,
That snorted with fiery rings.

And past those paws with fearsome claws,
Past the beast that slept
My beautiful boy, played my ploy,
And into the cave he crept.

Who dares take the prize from Ares?
Who dares steal the fleece?
Only an upstart Greek would seek,
To claim the fleece for Greece.

Oh how the gold glittered, Oh how it shone !
Like a star of heavenly light.
That woolly wonder of the Eastern world
Lit up the darkened night.

Like far off Pharos, the lighthouse of Egypt
It was a fiery illumination
But it was a pity, that seen from the city,
It caused a sensation.

Aeetes, my father, the king of Colchis,
Told his trumpets to blare
And they manned the boats, every ship that could float,
And revenge they did swear.

For it was not just the fleece, that the pirates claimed for Greece
But the daughter of the king they took.
And my father faced, a shameful disgrace,
An insult he would never brook.

And the Argonauts rowed, but their ship was slowed
By the weight of the gold within.
For Argo carried, the war god’s cargo
The fleece that glittered like sin.

And the Georgian navy flew across the waves
Like the steeds of the Sea-God Poseidon
And I must find a plan, as best I can,
I knew an island that we could hide on.

And my cunning plot, I revealed to Jason
But I held back from him my worst
We set a trap, an ambush to attack
The soldiers that landed first.

And the first was no other, than my own dear brother
I shot him with a golden cross bow.
And with gory glee, we threw his body in the sea
And swiftly away we did row.

Now if my father had a heart, it was hard to see,
But he stopped to pick up his heir.
And in this way, his chase was delayed
In war what plot is not fair?

And we crossed the seas, to the island of my aunt
The wondrous witch called Circe
And I begged her for the spell, which she knew well
To make my father show mercy.

And seeing her niece plead on her knees
This is what Circe said.
“You, a woman, have given all to a man
And yet, you are not even wed?”

“Jason my boy, become a man
Now do not falter.
You have lit the fire, of a fine woman’s desire
Marry my niece on this alter”.

And now at last, with eyes downcast
The liar spoke the truth.
“Yes it’s true that I swore, but that was before
I had seen the awful proof.”

“This lady’s no mere witch, she’s a frightful witch
She cut up her brother with a knife.
My life she saved, but her family she betrayed,
Her soul with sin is rife.”
“Do I deserve this harridan harpy?
Zeus ! How she carries on
Such curses she utters, the words of the gutter
Should I marry such a one?”

“Yes, I betrayed, but what a price I paid !
Do you not see how I feel?
All my sinning gave us a beginning
In blood our love we sealed.”

“Zeus she’s mad, I never asked her to be bad !”
“How can you say that you liar?
You were obsessed by that Fleece, you wanted it for Greece,
And for you I went through fire.”

Now this domestic fight, could have carried on all night
But Circe settled it soon
“Listen my dears, Aeetes’ army is near
Their ships lie in the lagoon.”

“So see here Jason, you pathetic man,
Medea saved your life.
If you need my spell, that works magic well
Make my niece your wife.”

And Jason in his woe, trembled like a doe
He knew is number was up
A woman must marry him, or an army would harry him.
We both drank from the wedding cup

And later that day the army lost its way
Circe’s spell worked well.
And now I was a queen, I was happier than I had ever been
One day in his palace I would dwell.

And Circe sent us sailing across the sea
With a fair wind to Greece
And Jason brought me, his beautiful trophy
And soon forgot the fleece.

I forgot my malice, when I lived in his palace,
I gave him some wonderful kids.
I never grew frumpy, but at times I was grumpy
And said what custom forbids.

I let people know, that I was the real show
I said more than I ought.
I let slip the story, of my part in his glory
Of how the fleece was brought.

And like a true man, Jason began
To allow his eyes to wander
And soon he found, a princess who was bound
To make his heart grow fonder.

And when I gave him a piece of my mind
He had no need for force.
The court granted his escape from me
It was divorce of course.

He gave my name, a scandalous fame
Then there was that dreadful drama.
As for the rest, don’t believe the press.
By then I had grown much calmer.

There’s no need to believe Euripides,
Literature is all lies.
Yes, his play is called Medea, a name men should fear,
But revenge comes in many a guise.

The gods sent me, a chariot with wings
And I flew away from Greece.
To the land of Colchis, kissed by the gods,
And with me I took the fleece.

And that was the fourth and final part of Jason and Medea written for Storynory by Bertie, and read by Richard Scott, and me, Natasha Gostwick. Our production features the Music of Gabriella Burnell and the illustrations of Nick Hayes. Do drop by at Storynory.com for the full effect !

We do hope that you have enjoyed our version of this ancient story. There are more Greek myths, and many more audio stories from all over the world, at Storynory.com, so do make full use of this resource in your schools and homes !

For now from me Natasha, and from me Richard, Goodbye

read by Natasha in voice of Medea – but with bits later on by Richard who will speak Jason’s voice when he argues with Medea.

Summary :

Jason has super-human strength from the magic lotion given to him by Medea. He yokes the bulls and sews the field of Ares. He sows the dragon’s teeth into the earth. Skeleton men spring up from the earth to fight him, but he throws a stone at the bulls and they charge and scatter the skeletons.

Jason claims the fleece from Aeetes. Aeetes refuses. Medea slips down to the boats and tells Jason that she will drug the dragon that guards the fleece. Jason promises to take her back to Greece and marry her. She puts the dragon to sleep and Jason steals the fleece from the dragon’s cave. Medea and the Argonauts sail away but the shining fleece lights up the sky. Aeetes sees it and his navy chases the Argo. Jason and Medea stop at an island where they ambush Aeetes son and kill him. They throw his body in the sea and Aeetes is held up while he picks up the body.

They sail to the island of Medea’s aunt, the witch Circe. They ask her for a spell to put off the persuing army. Circe will only grant the spell if Jason will marry Medea. Jason says that he does not want to marry a woman who would murder her own brother. They start to argue. But when Aeetes army is near he gives in and marries her.

They return to Greece and Medea gives him two children. Jason divorces her and marries another woman. Medea tells us that we should not believe the playwright Euripides who told lies about her. She did take her revenge but it was not like they said in the drama. She flew back to Colchis in a magic Chariot and took the fleece with her.

An uptempo, amusing song about Jason and the Golden Fleece. We hope you will find this fun ! The words are a bit of a tongue-twister.

Composed and Sung by Gabriella Burnel
Guitar and Base by Drew Wynen
Drums by Jayesh Vadukul
Words by Bertie
Engineer Felipe Elcanja
Recorded at Forward Motion Studios with thanks to Jas
Picture by Nick Hayes

A young upstart Greek has come to seek,
The Gorgeous Golden Fleece.
He has a cheek, that Greek, to come and seek
The fleece of gold for Greece.

Is this scrawny boy to lead,
A gang of hardened heroes?
Will he hold his nerve, and never swerve
When the clanging fear grows?

A hero’s quest, he wanted best,
Glory for his name.
He had a cheek, that Greek, to come and seek
The Georgian Fleece of fame.

Away across the blackest sea
To a gorgeous, wild state,
With hills of riches women that are witches,
Dragons guard that the gate.

A prince he is, supposedly.
He looks like a dope.
He has a cheek, that Greek, to come and seek
On a quest that has no hope.

Yes, Georgia, Colchis, what you will
It stands by the sea that’s black
Many assaulted its citadel vaulted,
But no one ever came back.”

A young upstart Greek has come to seek,
The Gorgeous Golden Fleece.
He has a cheek, that Greek, to come and seek
The fleece of gold for Greece.

Jason speaks with manly voice,
Perhaps he’s putting it on.
No war with Georgia, war with no one,
War’s not why he has come.

A young upstart Greek has come to seek,
The Gorgeous Golden Fleece.
He has a cheek, that Greek, to come and seek
The fleece of gold for Greece.

A young upstart Greek has come to seek,
The Gorgeous Golden Fleece.
He has a cheek, that Greek, to come and seek
The fleece of gold for Greece

Pictures for Storynory by Nick Hayes, click to enlarge.

Our story is taken up by Princess Medea. Jason and the Argonauts have arrived in her father’s kingdom of Colchis. They have come to take the fabulous Golden Fleece back to Greece – something her father is not happy about. Medea is in love with Jason and decides to help him with her magic.

Read by Natasha Gostwick.
Pictures by Nick Hayes.
Music by Gabriella Burnel.
Words by Bertie.

Jason and Medea, The Story of the Golden Fleece, told in verse in four parts, by Storynory.
Part Three : Princess Medea.

It is a youthful traveller
Only just a man
So pretty, so witty, it is a pity
I can’t quite understand,

What this feeling inside me is
My pulse begins to race.
I’m so aware that I do not dare
To look straight into his face.

And he was barely more than a boy
But oh boy what a boy.
His dark eyes, lit by lies,
And a look that was coy.

Oh, I quite forgot: me
My name is Medea.
A student in the art, of wild witchcraft
My name men should fear.

I’m rich, I’m smart, I’m full of art,
And this is what I say.
I might be seventeen, but I know what I mean
I will have my way.

My father’s name is Aeetes
He’s king around these parts.
This land of Colchis is kissed by the gods
Wine, women, arts.

A fog from the gods wrapped our city.
And Jason just appeared.
A noble man, from a long-lived clan,
Though the way he appeared was weird.

And Heaven must have helped him then,
My guess: a goddess.
It might have been Aphrodite I think
She is never modest.

This young upstart Greek, had come to seek,
My father’s Golden Fleece.
He had a cheek, that Greek, to come and seek
The fleece of gold for Greece.

Then my dad, though his rule is to be cruel
Invited Jason in.
And a banquet put on, for the guest who had come
to take from him.

Jason spoke with a low manly voice,
Perhaps he was putting it on.
No war with Georgia, No war with no one,
War was not why he had come.

Perhaps some service he could perform
Could the king suggest a quest?
And the price that was nice was the fleece for Greece
The Argo would bring it back West.

And turning to me, father spoke softly,
“This is men’s table talk.
Medea, my dear, your grow bored, I fear
I suggest you take a walk.”

And so I suppose, I stretched and rose,
And slipped out silkily.
For I could hear, from a place that was near
Up on the minstrel balcony.

And my father drank wine and spoke his mind,
“I suppose you’ve heard of Troy
Warriors from Greece, don’t come East in peace
I have reason to fear you my boy.”

And Jason looked hurt, like a friendship had burst
And he seemed like a little boy
“Don’t speak to me, of that cruel history,
No need to talk of Troy.”

And my father softened, or so it seemed.
I knew his hard heart by now:
“My boy you have shoulders that could easily move boulders,
Like an ox that pulls a plough.”

“This is the task that I ask, not hard.
I have a field outside the city.
Take these dragon’s teeth, and sow them beneath,
The earth that’s dark and gritty.”

And my young pretty sap, did not run into this trap
He pondered and he thought:
“Why would he ask a task not hard
For a fleece that could not be bought? “

The craft he couldn’t see, and at last he agreed,
Little did he know,
That a dead army of men, would grow up again
As soon as be began to sow.

And those skeleton men, would fight again
See the dead cannot be killed !
For the god of war, long, long before,
This terrible curse had willed.

And a fearful fact that he did not know
Those fields were full of toil.
No harmless oxen plod Ares’ farm
But bulls must plough the soil.

And then my boy hero stood up to go,
Perfect to my eyes.
The shoulders of a man, the grace of a girl
He was doomed by my father’s lies.

And when he was well away from the men,
My father laughed and said:
The bulls will destroy that precocious boy.
And as soon as he is safely dead.

We shall shove a great rock from a high hill top,
And smash his ship to bits.
And never more, shall pirates plague our shore,
Where the game is double or quits.

Need I say, that in tears and dismay
I tore my hair and my cheeks?
My fingers were red where my face had bled
I was hot, I was cold, I was weak.

For in my heart, I knew, my father was cruel,
He never went back on a threat.
Still worse, he knew no mercy,
Not once had he relented yet.

That night I dreamed of frightful scenes,
It was I that yoked the bull.
It was I that sowed the teeth beneath
The earth so fearful.

When the impossible feat was neatly completed
I turned to my father and said:
“Now give the fleece of gold to Greece,
And Jason the boy I’ll wed.”

By daughter betrayed, father raged
And father flew at me.
There’s nothing so bad, that brings out the mad
As to break with family.

Then I woke in a sweat, the sheets were wet,
And my temperature as high as a kite.
I crept out of bed into the cool corridor.
And there I caught a fright.

For standing in front of me, was him you see,
Yes, the boy, Jason.
I refused his embrace, I stung his face,
And back into my room did hasten.

Then he called to me, knocking softly on my door
In my heart I hoped that he would.
“Medea, my dear, no need for fear,
I give my word to be good.”

I opened up slowly, and there in front of me
He stood. We were like two trees.
That grow side by side, open their arms wide,
And sway together in the breeze.

We did not touch, though the feeling was such
That I will never forget.
Our souls surged, our minds merged,
And still we hadn’t touched yet.

Nothing to say. He pulled himself away,
Like he was leaving home for ever.
Then taking his chance, he gave me a glance,
And I knew we had to be together.

Now not only have I looks, I’m learned in books,
I know my potions and lotions,
There’s no harm I see in pharmacy,
My fingers put magic in motion.

I lit the fire that burned like desire,
And stirred my ingredients in.
There’s power in my powder, and verve in my herbs.
With a flash my fun begins.

Then stealing stealthily down to the sea,
By the path I knew as a child
I found the forbidden boat hidden
In a place that was dark and wild.

It was the Argo alright, a magnificent sight,
As long as it was strong.
And the men slept around on the stony ground,
As I carefully crept on.

My hero now, sat by the prow
My Jason did not sleep
A lotion I gave him, and told him to bathe in it
That lotion would be his safe-keep.

And that was the third part of Jason and Medea told by me, Natasha Gostwick, and written for Storynory by Bertie. I’ll be back soon with the fourth and final part in which we will find out if Jason really does manage to get the Golden fleece for Greece ! And our production of Jason and Medea has fantastic music by Gabriella Burnell and stunning illustrations by Nick Hayes so drop by at Storynory.com for the whole effect.

For now, from me, Natasha Bye Bye.

This part read by Natasha in voice of Medea. Medea is daughter of Aeetes, the cruel king of Colchis, and the owner of the Golden Fleece.

It starts off with the same line as part one “It is a youthful traveller” which is a play on “It is an Ancient Mariner”. Medea talks of her infatuation for Jason, talks of her beauty and her strong will, and reveals that she is a witch. He appeared at their palace out of a mist. Her father invited him to dinner, and he asked for the Golden Fleece offering to perform a quest for it. Her father asked him to sow a field with dragon’s teeth. He did not say that the field must be sewed with bulls, and that they teeth would grow up into a terrible army of skeleton men. Medea dreams that she performed the task herself, and her father was furious with her. She wakes up and goes out into the corridor where she meets Jason. They do not touch but are obviously in love with each other. She follows him down to his ship, and gives him a magic potion to help him form the task.

A rowing song for our Jason and Medea series.

We are not only telling the story of Jason and Medea in verse, but in song too ! We hope you enjoy these soaring vocals and bluesy guitar. We have two more songs to come, so listen out for those.

Composed and Sung by Gabriella Burnel
Drums and inspiration by Jayesh Vadukul
Guitar and Base by Drew Wynen
Words by Bertie
Engineer Felipe Elcanja
Recorded at Forward Motion Studios with thanks to Jas
Picture by Nick Hayes

They rowed across the deep black sea
A never ending stretch.
They heaved and hoe-ed, and on they rowed
For the fleece they need must fetch

And Orpheus strummed his sweet sweet lyre
And sung out his sweet honeyed voice,
Row on boys, row on boys, don’t you slack
Row on boys, row on boys, there’s no going back
We surf the sea to our destiny
Keep right on track !

They rowed across the deep black sea
A never ending stretch.
They heaved and hoe-ed, and on they rowed
For the fleece they need must fetch

And when at night, they slept at their seats,
Heracles rowed on.
He would have rowed more, but he broke his oar,
Snap! and it was gone.

And Orpheus strummed his sweet sweet lyre
And sung out his sweet honeyed voice,
Row on boys, row on boys don’t you slack
Row on boys, row on boys, there’s no going back

We surf the sea to our destiny

Illustrations for Storynory by Nick Hayes. Click to enlarge.

Jason and the Argonauts travel the seas on their way to Colchis to fetch the Golden fleece. On one stop along the way, they meet Amycus, the inhospitable king, who challenges their strongest hero to a boxing contest. On another stop they meet a prophet to is tortured by Harpes for the crime of telling the future too accurately.

Read by Richard Scott
Illustrated by Nick Hayes
Written by Bertie
With the music of Gabriella Burnel.

Jason and Medea, The Story of the Golden Fleece, told in verse in four parts, by Storynory.
Part Two : The Voyage to Colchis.

They rowed across the deep black sea
A never ending stretch.
They heaved and hoe-ed, and on they rowed
For the fleece they needs must fetch

And as they rowed, over them watched,
Poseidon the god of the sea
He watched them row, and he watched them go
To reach their destiny.

Wherever they touched the land, the sparkling sand
They jumped on the beach with glee.
Those that met them, clothed and fed them
with Hospitality.

Save one. They called him Amycus,
The inhospitable king.
He knew no love, save the boxing glove,
He loved to fight in the ring.

“Choose a man”, he said, the best you can,
To take me on, I insist.
Your only right is to put up a fight
My guests are kissed with a fist.

His words of welcome irked them sorely,
Oh for Heracles.
He had a knuckle, that made men buckle
And crouch down on bended knees.

But Heracles was left well behind
And Polydeuces stepped forth.
He was an Argonaut, who many fights had fought,
He snarled his teeth with wrath.

The king exchanged a stare for a snarl
Like a cornered lion
He gazed at him, and blazed at him,
and held up his fists of iron.

Daunting gauntlets, Amycus wore,
That covered his fighting fists.
His second helped him pull them on
And tied them around his wrists.

The Argonaut’s man held steady and ready
And listened as Amycus spoke
“I’ll put blood on your cheek, and knock you to next week
Your cloak with red I’ll soak. ”

Polydeuces nodded his acknowledgment,
And so begun the fight.
He danced on his toes and dodged the blows
And deflected his opponent’s might.

But Amycus landed some heavy hits,
His fists tore through the air.
Teeth clattered, and ribs shattered.
The fight was brutal but fair.

But no fool was our hero Polydeuces
He knew how to measure a man.
He observed and learned the pattern of the fight,
And soon he had a plan.

Amycus acted more with anger than skill
In rage did he attack him.
He fell into a trap
. He left a gap
And our hero whacked him.

Polydeuces hit with the force of a thunderbolt
It was a skull shattering blow
There was a terrible crack, a deadly attack
He laid his opponent low.

All round there was awe and roars from the crowd.
And outloud Jason said:
Your king is down. He’s bust his crown.
Your king – he is dead.

But the people of that place bore no grace
They knew not how to lose.
Their king had died. The women cried.
And then, there were jeers and boos.

Above the roar, a voice spoke out loud:
“The killer of the king must die”
With no more words, they drew their swords
And at him they did fly.

But the Argonauts stepped forth
A line of prickly tips.
They fiercely fought back, and repelled the attack,
And more came out from the ships.

With shields and spears, and cries and cheers,
They fell upon the foe.
They cut and thrust and bones did bust
No mercy did they show.

For it is the law of Zeus, Lord of the gods,
Who rules form East to West.
Wherever you live, a warm welcome you must give
For a stranger is a guest.
…..

The heroes returned to their trustworthy ship
And sailed the Bosporus straight
A meandering sea, like a crooked knee,
That leads them to their fate.

When under their toes, the waters rose,
Choppy was not the word.
Propelled from Hell, a wave did swell,
And flung them like a bird.

The heroes yelled, and tightly held,
To the rim of their boat.
Up and down they dived, in fear for their lives,
And only just afloat.

When at last they hit the land with a thud,
To the coast of Bethynia they had come
They were glad to be here, for near lived a seer
The prophetic one.

Phineas the Bethynian, was frightfully thin,
His gift was a curse.
He could clearly see, your far off destiny,
For better or for worse.

But he was at odds, with the vengeful gods
And a cruel crazy Zeus,
Cut him down to size, and blinded his eyes
And harpies he let loose.

Now harpies harp on, they are terrible birds,
They are furies with fearsome claws,
They have women’s heads, and women’s breasts,
And they grab food from your jaws.

And every time Phineas tried to eat,
A harpy dove down from the sky.
It snatched the food, and flew off to its brood,
With squawk and a terrible cry.

“Oh Argonauts, I expected you ,
Bravest of the Greeks
You have come to me, for my prophesy
And wait for me to speak.”

“But before I tell, your future well,
Listen to my present.
The gods have meant to torment me
And this terrible torture sent.”

“Oh to you I pray, chase those fiends away
Those harrowing harpies kill me.
Give me your word, you’ll banish those birds
And your future told will be. ”

Now the Borriad twins, the sons of the wind,
Stepped forth and said “no fuss.
If it’s speed you need, we are swift indeed,
They won’t get away from us”.

They hide in a cleft of a rock to the left,
Of the old man and his dinner.
And when the harpies appear, to torment the seer,
And to make the prophet thinner,

The twins jump out, the birds to clout,
And chase them over the sand.
And up they fly, to their nests in the sky
For cliffs are safer than land.

But the terrible twins, are set to win
There are no buts or ifs.
They climb with ease, like cats up trees,
And scale the difficult cliffs.

The nests they reach, and the harpies screech,
And the boys attack with their knives
But Juno sent word, to save the birds,
And spare them their terrible lives.

A boy with wings, the message brings
To stave off from the fight.
“Twins of the wind, hold back from sin,
What you do is not right!”

“These birds are absurd, but they fulfil the word,
Of Zeus the almighty Lord.
Man cannot understand, his future in hand,
Or The gods would be frightfully bored.”

“Phineas tells, the future too well.
There’s a devil in his detail.
If he keeps it vague, we’ll rid his plague,
And again you may set sail.”

“For the best prophesy is ambiguity
Nothing is ever clear,
And horoscopes are meant for dopes
And play on hope and fear.”

And the twins climbed down, and returned to ground
And to Phineas this message brought.
And he listed well, and the future did tell
So vague as to be worth naught.

And so the sailors sailed on to their destiny
That was dark as a moonless night.
Through the clanging cliffs and the swirling pool
To the sea that is black and bright.

And at last they came, to the realm of Aeetes
He was king around those parts.
That land of Colchis, kissed by the gods,
With wine, women, arts.

But Jason pondered, how far they had wandered,
His head upon his chin.
His thoughts of gloom, his visions of doom
The frightful fix they were in.

For he was never a man with a ready plan.
And now he was frightfully vexed.
His head full of fear, and he had no idea.
Exactly what they should do next.

And that was the second part of Jason and Medea, written for Storynory by Bertie, and read by me Richard Scott. In the next part, Natasha takes over in the voice of the Georgian Princess and witch, Medea. Our production of Jason and Medea is accompanied by the Music of Gabriella Burnell and the illustrations of Nick Hayes. For now, from me, Richard Scott,

Good Bye.

Summary: Jason and the Argonauts stop at the Island of King Amycus, who challenges all visitors to a boxing match. Polydeuces takes him on and kills him in the boxing ring. Amycus’s army attack the Argonauts, the heroes fight back and sack their city.

A huge wave carries them up the Bosphorus, and they land in Bethynia. There they meet Phineas the seer who is tormented by Harpes. These birds (with women’s heads and breast) snatch food from his mouth so he is always hungry. The Argonauts help him. The Borread twins, the sons of the wind, chase the Harpes up the cliffs. Juno sends a messenger to tell them not to kill the Harpes. Phineas’s sin was to tell the future to well. If he keeps it vague, the Harpes will leave him alone. Phineas gives them a useless prophecy. They sail on and reach Colchis. Jason is not sure what to do next.

We begin our four part “epic” poem written in verse by Bertie for Storynory.

You may know this famous story by other titles including Jason and the Golden Fleece and Jason and the Argonauts. We have chosen to call it “Jason and Medea” to emphasis the parts of the hero and the heroine, who are both interesting characters. It tells the tale of how Jason sailed from Greece on a quest to the land of Colchis which is now known as Georgia (South of Russia, North of Turkey, West of Armenia, on the Black Sea). He took with him a gang of “hardened heros” including the famous strongman, Heracles, who features in Part One. His goal was to bring back the fabulous Golden Fleece – but he must contend with fierce dragons and beautiful witches.

The poem will be in four parts, and there are three songs to go with it. There are 12 specially commissioned pictures. This part and part two is beautifully narrated by Richard Scott. Parts three and four will be read by Natasha in the voice of Medea.

The story if very loosely based on / inspired by The Argonautica by Apollonius of Rhodes.

Read by Richard Scott.
Pictures by Nick Hayes.
Written by Bertie.
Music by Gabriella Burnel.

Jason and Medea, The Story of the Golden Fleece, told in verse in four parts, by Storynory.
Part One : The Voyage Begins.

It is a youthful traveller
Only just a man
A single sandal upon one foot,
He has not more than

Twenty years spent upon earth,
“My Shoe”, he says, “I lost.
Stolen by the winter stream,
Snatched, as I crossed.”

And here, to Iolcus, he has tramped,
His cloak is tattered and torn.
And Pelias, the king, he looked at his foot
And felt utterly forlorn.

“Come in my boy, sit down, your name?”
“I’m Jason”, he replied,
The king he looked, again, at that foot
And felt that he had died.

For he had heard that his doom would be dealt
By just such a man
A single sandal upon one foot
That was destiny’s plan.

“Away, I must send him, he thought to himself
Far over the wine dark sea
He can go on a quest, to prove he is best
To fetch his boyhood glory.”

“Away across the blackest sea
To a gorgeous, wild state,
With mountains of riches, and women that are witches,
Where dragons guard the gate”.

“Yes, Georgia, Colchis, call it what you will
It stands by the sea that is black
Many have assaulted, its citadel vaulted,
But not one has ever come back.”

“A prince he is, supposedly.
He looks somewhat a dope
I think it’s a plan, for just such a man,
A quest that has no hope.”

But Jason scrubbed up rather well
Bathed and clothed he looked better.
He had long dark locks, and a hero’s looks,
And was quite the trend setter.

A hero’s quest, was what he wanted best,
To add glory to his name.
He would not cease, until he had the fleece,
The Georgian Fleece of fame.

For in a cave in Colchis there hung
The golden, shimmering fleece,
The Georgian garment of great renown
Coveted by all of Greece.

Once worn by a living creature,
A ram with golden wings
Phrixos flew there from Greece on the ram.
And gave it to the king.

Get it, said Pelias, Bring it to me
And Jason gladly agreed.
Gold turned him cold, but fame was his flame
He suffered not from greed.

“I am a man to manage a challenge,”
He said boldly in the court.
Who will join me on this quest
A journey, danger fraught?”

And forth came heroes, real heroes,
Men who had sailed the seas
Polydeuces, Castor, Idmon and last,
Not least, Heracles.

And Argos, the oldest, greatest ship maker,
He set to work with his saw.
He made them the strongest, fleetest, ship
Like none that had sailed before.

Then gathered the gang, a hero to the man.
They named their ship the Argo.
And the crew they called, the Argonauts,
And the Fleece was to be their cargo.

They went down to the shore, gave an ox to the gods
Then sat on the beach, and drank wine.
The men tell tales, but Jason he ails,
Troubles on his mind.

And Idas of Arene, an irksome fellow
Though handy in a fight
Saw Jason brood, and guessed his mood,
“He’s a coward, alright”.

“Is this scrawny boy to lead,
A gang of hardened heroes?
Will he hold his nerve, and never swerve
When the clanging fear grows?”

“See here, a hero, Herakles.
Now this is a man.
He is more than a man, he makes war
Like a mighty entire clan.”

“He caries a club, his foes to drub,
He smashes, and trashes them in.
He loves to kill, it gives him a thrill
His heart, as black as sin”.

“When he was small, he was sent a gift,
A sinuous, venomous snake.
To slither in, and silence him,
But he did take

That snake, and shake and break it,
And fling it to the floor.
You know his mother’s milk, was creamy silk
She was a goddess, for sure. ”

“So Herakles, choose him, he’s the one
To lead us across the sea.”
“- No No”, he said, hanging his head,
Struck down by modesty.

The others told Idas to hold his tongue
And then they took up the boat
And shouting with glee, they shoved it to sea,
And soon they were fast afloat.

They sat down at the benches, and took their oars,
And mid all sat Heracles.
They heaved and hoe-ed, and on they rowed
Gliding over the seas.

And next to Heracles sat Hylas,
His one and only friend.
The golden one, he loved a liked son
To the end he would defend.

And Poseidon the god of the oceans
Followed them over the surf.
And his seven steeds, that galloped the seas.
Strained for all they were worth.

They rowed across the deep black sea
A never ending stretch.
They heaved and hoe-ed, and on they rowed
The Fleece for Greece they’ll fetch!

And when at night, they slept at their seats,
Heracles rowed on.
He would have rowed more, but he broke his oar,
Snap! and it was gone.

When rosy-fingered dawn awoke,
They glided toward the land
No longer afloat, they jumped over the boat,
And warmed their toes in the sand

Heracles was in need of an oar
A tree would suit his grip,
To Hylas he said, fetch water instead
My thirst could do with a sip.

At first the friends walked together
The ambled along light hearted.
Tracks on the beach, the woods they did reach,
And in the woods they parted.

Hylas headed for the sacred spring
But he did not go unseen.
The nymphs along route, thought he looked cute
One, was the woodland queen.

And when he reached the gushing water.
He knelt down to fill his urn.
A nymph saw his face, she longed to embrace,
And her little heart did burn.

She entwined her arm around his neck,
And kissed him in full wonder.
She entwined her arm, she meant no harm,
But she pulled him under.

Did Hylas drown? It’s hard to say
He glugged beneath the water
The king of the spring, welcomed him in,
And married him to his daughter.

But Heracles, he had lost his friend
He could not find him anywhere,
The strongest man, now began
To surrender to despair.

He cried, he wailed, he felt he had failed
He didn’t know what to do
The incredible hulk has muscles that bulk,
But his heart is broken in two.

And Jason waits by the bulk of the boat.
He waits and waits for the hulk.
But he is gone. He wanders on.
Now he’s the incredible sulk.

And Jason waits by the bulk of the boat
His oar at his side.
To sail away. Or to stay.
He is unable to decide.

And Polydeuces puts his hand on his shoulder
“This is no time to fret.”
Says the hero, “It’s time to go.
On the fleece our sight must set.”

So Jason summons all his Argonauts.
He calls each man by name.
“Push down the boat, and on we float,
To Colchis and our fame.”

They pull at the oars, it’s harder than before,
They plough the sea wearily.
As they heave through the haze, all their eyes gaze
On the middle bench that is empty.

And Telamon, of the strong spear, speaks up:
“It’s not hard to see your mind.
Jason, my lad, you were only too glad
To leave the real hero behind.”

There is no reply. Only tears in his eye.
Then the sea stirs deeply.
The Argo rocks. The Argonauts are in shock.
Now the waves rise steeply.

And before them shaking the prow of the boat
A god has risen from the deep.
his name. His tongue is a flame.
The men began to weep.

“On whose authority did you take with you,
Heracles, I ask?
According to Zeus, he cannot be let loose,
Until he has done his twelfth task.”

“For 12 Herculean labours must he do
And back to Argos he has gone
Do not doubt him, you must go without him.
To take him with you was wrong.”

And then the water wrapped around him like a cloak,
He was gone and all was calm.
“Forgive me”, said Telamon, “for I was wrong.
Believe me, I meant no harm.”

And Jason nods and prudently speaks:
“Your words were cruel and hot.
But in the end, you spoke for a friend,
For gain you spoke not.”

“So I take it that you, are to a comrade true;
And I value you more for that
So get back to your oar, we are as before,
Together in this combat.”

And they raised the mast, and the wind blew fast,
Driving them across the sea
And all night long, the wind blew on
Until dawn, rose rosily.

And that was the first part of Jason and Medea read by me Richard Scott. In the next part I will be telling you about Jason and the Argonauts’ adventures on the way to Colchis to fetch the Golden Fleece. Later on you will hear the voice of Natasha as the Georgian princess and witch, Medea. And we have we have music by Gabriella Burnell. Also if you drop by at Storynory.com you can see the fantastic illustrations of the story by Nick Hayes. All in all this is a big production for Storynory so we do hope that you enjoy it !

Jason and Medea was written for Storynory by Bertie, very loosely following the Argonautica by Apollonius of Rodes.

For now, from me, Richard, Bye.

Summary: The youthful Jason arrives at the court of King Pelias wearing only one shoe. Pelias as been told that a man with one scandal will kill him. He sends Jason on an impossible quest to get the golden fleece from Colchis (modern Georgia). Jason collects a gang of heroes including Heracles and they set sail. Some of the heroes think that Heracles should be the leader. They land and Heracles friend Hylas is abducted by a water nymph. Heracles wanders off in grief. One hero says that Jason is glad to lose his rival. But a sea god rises out of the sea and says Heracles had to go to complete his labours. Jason forgives the insubordinate sailor.

This is Storynory’s production of the ancient legend about the foundation of Rome. It’s a love story with plenty of tragic drama, and we think it will appeal to slightly older children and young adults. That said, it is pretty exciting too.

Aeneas, prince of Troy, is shipwrecked off the coast of Africa by the goddess Juno. He is taken in by Queen Dido of Carthage. He then finds himself torn between love and destiny.

The great Roman poet, Virgil (70 BC to 19BC) wrote a really long poem (12 books) called “The Aeneid”. In one of those books is the story of Dido and Aeneas. An Elizabethan playwright, Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593) wrote a play called “Dido, Queen of Cathage” about Dido’s love for Aeneas. Bertie has written this special “Storynory edition” for your enjoyment.

The following story is written out, as a play script. Bertie suggests that you and your friends read it as a play – even act it out!

If you are following along with the audio, the narrator and the male characters are spoken by Richard Scott.  All the female characters are read by Natasha Gostwick. Music by Purcell and Handel from Partners in Rhyme
Adapted for Storynory by Bertie.
Duration 27 Minutes.

Narrator:  My story is of a man torn between love and destiny. Aeneas was his name, and he was a Prince of Troy. When that city was destroyed by the Greek Army, he fled from the flames carrying his old father on his back, and with his son at his side. He gathered a band of Trojans and set sail in a fleet of ships. But his journey was long and hard, beset by dangers and troubles.

Why should a just a man suffer so? The answer is not hard to find. All the evil and suffering in the world is wished upon us by the gods, or is the debris of their own quarrels and strife. A goddess hated Aeneas with all the fury of her immortal heart. Her name was Juno, and she was Queen of heaven. Her enmity went back a long way.

It all began with a divine squabble. Three goddesses met on the island of Crete and wrangled over who was the fairest. And while the divine ones were bickering and threatening to scratch each other’s eyes out, along stumbled Paris, Prince of Troy, out hunting in the woods. The goddesses appointed him as judge of their beauty. He chose Venus, and won a great reward from her, in the fair form of a woman, Helen, who was the most beautiful woman in the world,  but he earned the immortal hatred of Juno.

Paris and Helen; their names united into the greatest scandal of the Bronze Age.  He was Trojan; she was Greek, and while they lay in each other’s arms, their countries locked in armed combat. After ten years of war, Troy was destroyed utterly. You would think that the goddess had taken enough revenge on Paris and all the Trojans, but still she was not satisfied. Now Juno looked down from the skies and spotted Aeneas, a near relative of Paris, sailing across the sea, escaping his burning city. And this is what she said to herself:

Juno: Another of those pomaded Trojan lover-boys is setting out to create trouble in the world. I see his destiny all too clearly. He is leading his men to Italy, where his descendants will found a new city: Rome. And Rome shall grow into a proud, powerful, hypocritical empire. The toga wearers shall make slaves of free peoples in the name of the law, peace and religion. They will conquer nations and utterly destroy Carthage, the city which does more honour to me than any other. But do you know what? I think I’ll do the world a favour. I’ll spare it Rome. I’ll finish off  Aeneas and his fleet of ships before they touch land. No Aeneas, no Rome. Now blow Winds, blow !

Narrator: And Aeolus, King of the winds, heard the command from the Queen of heaven, and boy did he blow. He sent a ship-splintering storm straight at the fleet of Aeneas. Aeneas and his men thought then that they would soon be fish food. But Neptune, the Lord of the waters, heard the winds, and rolled his eyes around the earth, the sea and the skies, and when he saw the storm-tossed ships he said:

Neptune: Hey what’s all this? I’m in charge here. Jupiter and his dysfunctional family can do what they like up in the skies, but the waters are mine, and I won’t stand for any insubordination here. If there’s sinking to be done, then I’m the

We bring you this sad but, we hope, beautiful story in verse. Orpheus the musician married Eurydice the shepherdess. When she was killed by a snake, he traveled down to the underworld and was granted one chance to fetch her back to life.  Bertie has freely adapted this ancient tale into his own poem. Yes, we did warn you, it is sad.

Read by Richard Scott. Written by Bertie. Duration 12 minutes.

I speak of a man of sweet honeyed melody,

Whose love sick heart had no remedy

But to travel to where none before,

Save sad souls who live no more,

Have been and seen and ne’r come back:

The land of death where all is black.

But where we start is under the sun,

Of ancient Greece, where legends begun.

Orpheus his name, and music he made,

Like no other who sang or played.

His notes unfold upon the breeze

He woos the birds, he charms the trees,

No living thing is quite immune

When Orpheus plays his tender tune.

His skill commands the strings of the lyre

Under his orders, it sings like a choir

Of love for a woman: Eurydice.

Though his tongue was tied in speech, he,

As a man who hardly knew her,

Walked by her side and tried to woo her.

Without reply. Her pretty head

She turned away, and no word said.

She, sixteen, a sweet shepherdess,

Her heart, not hard, but I tell, you no less

Than twenty suitors she had turned away,

For she thought it too soon, to see her wedding day.

But then he sang, and his sweet voice carried

Straight to her heart, and soon they were married.

Oh what a wedding! I wish you were there,

To join the feast in open air,

A thousand guests, a handful human,

The piper god Pan and his crewmen,

Nymphs and Dryads, Satyrs and Fawns,

Demi-gods dancing all over the lawns

Horns and hairs sprout from their faces

For ancient Greece was one of those places

Perilously populated by peculiar creatures

Who in modern times don’t often reach us,

Gods mingled with mankind

And often offspring, they left behind,

Back then, no one thought it queer,

To see a girl, with a head like a deer,

Or when out wondering some woodland track

To find a boy with a goaty back.

Eurydice smiled and danced and charmed

All who saw her were quite disarmed,

Is she mortal, or a goddess divine?

Oh too mortal, Eurydice mine !

The sweet Cicadas in the grass

Sang their legs off, but none could surpass

The melodic magic of the man

Who outdid all nature as he sang.

Orpheus played upon his lyre.

Love out-glowing the sunset’s fire.

Darkness fell, the dryads danced on

And Eurydice sang and tripped along.

The flock of girls ran down to the stream

And splashed along the waters clean.

The bride lifted up her white wedding hem

And hurried along, ahead of them,

But alack alas she did not see

The snake that struck beneath her knee.

Venom flowed deep from deadly fang

And over the hills the mourning bell rang.

When Orpheus kissed the lifeless hand

Her soul had gone to another land,

His lungs gulped air as if to cry,

But he could not cry. His eyes were dry.

The hills were silent as if for a year,

And then he sang, a song so sincere,

So sad, so simple, so straight from the gut,

That all who heard it, felt nothing but

The sweet sadness of this turning world,

Where beauty must wrinkle, and grow old,

That, or in the warmth of youth, turn cold.

Men heard it, Nymphs heard it. Fawns heard it. Gods heard it.

Down in the depths of Hades, the word it,

Reached the royal ear of the Lord of the Dead.

Pale-faced Pluto, whom all men dread.

He spoke to Persephone, the Queen of the hosts,

who inhabits the depths where all are ghosts.

“Dearest, Deathly, Queen have you heard,

The ringing music, the lovely sound,

The lament which echoes all around,

The land of the sun, and the world of the gloom,

For the girl Eurydice, who has met her doom?”

“Yes, my dear, I have heard the cry,

‘Why,’ he sings, ‘must sweet she die,

My young simple shepherdess,

Who is yet to feel, her husband’s caress?’

We doomed death so soon, for it must be so,

That the mortals feel, their share of woe,

But now I regret it. I feel it’s not fair,

That a voice of such beauty, be filled with care. “

And so it was, Orpheus sang by the river,

The Styx, it is called, it causes a shiver,

For it flows over ground, then down beneath,

To the land that’s guarded by the teeth,

Of Cerberus. The three headed dog of death,

When you breathe no more, you smell his breath.

While Orpheus sang a boat came by

Propelled by a wind that sounded like a sigh.

The ferryman offered to carry him along,

To where none who lives can linger long.

So down to Hades, Orpheus went,

The first living man, who there was sent.

And when the dog who guards the gate,

Growled to him that he must wait,

Till death deals its dreadful blow,

He sang back . No no no !

Only he sang it so sweetly, so piteously, so sadly,

That the dog rolled the rock back, only too gladly,

And the music man entered the gates of Hell,

The place where we all must one day dwell.

And there Orpheus met, the ghost of his mother,

He tried to hug her, but could only recover,

A fleeting, empty, insubstantial thought,

Of she who had loved him, since he was naught.

And then he was granted, an audience before,

The Queen of Death, whom all hold in awe.

She whose heart does not beat,

Save once, when she heard a musician entreat,

A sentimental lament to reverse the law,

That has held enthrall, all before.

No ordinary musician, but Orpheus he,

Who moved to pity, Queen Persephone.

“I grant your wish, for your wedded wife,

That she should return back to life,

You may lead her up the trail to light,

But not once, must you take in the sight

Of she who follows faithfully your way.

Do not look back, or she shall stay!”

So spoke Persephone, and Orpheus heard,

And he agreed, to her every word.

He set off to the world of life,

Playing a love song for his longed-for wife,

She followed happily, twenty paces behind,

But Orpheus fell victim to his artistic mind

To be ruled by reason he was never meant,

Impulse and passion made up his temperament.

The journey was long and the way was steep,

Far too far, for Orpheus to keep

His promise to she who is queen of Always,

Who when she speaks, means what she says.

He wavered you see, he suspected a trick,

He worried himself, until he was sick.

Perhaps the Queen had given her word,

Only to make him look absurd.

What if his wife had lost the track?

He could not help it. He looked back.

‘Goodbye my sweet, adieu, adieu,

I only gave my love to you,’

So sang his wife, Eurydice,

A simple, sad, sweet melody.

And Orpheus took his beloved lyre,

And threw it upon, the furious fire.

And that was the end of the musician’s song

And though his life was painfully long,

He no more sang to human kind

For lack of the love he left behind.

Copyright Hugh Fraser 2010 (aka Bertie)
Written For Storynory.com

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Not all stories have a moral, but this one from ancient Greece certainly does. Midas has a gift – everything he touches turns to gold. But he soon learns that an excessive love of riches squeezes the truly valuable things out of life.

The story begins with Silenus, a satyr, half man, half goat, who follows Dionysus the god of Wine.

Read by Natasha. Version for Storynory by Bertie. Duration 9.42

There was once a dreadfully ugly beast called Silenus. He pranced over the mountains on a pair of hairy goat’s legs. A long tail swished behind him. But from the waist up, he was a man, more or less. His big belly bounced up and down as he ran along. A pair of horns sprouted out of his bald and shiny head. Quite often, slobber dribbled from his thick and purple lips. In short, this delightful creature was a satyr.

Silenus was a friend of Dionysus, the God of Wine. Dionysus often used to gather his wild band of followers in the woods for a noisy, riotous party. They included satyrs as well as Maenids, who were wild women of the woods. They would bang drums, blow pipes and horns, and crash cymbals and they danced themselves into a mad frenzy. But above all, they liked to drink wine.

One time after Silenus had been partying all night, he staggered out of the woods, and into the palace grounds of Midas, king of Phrygia. He lay down between the rose bushes and fell into a deep sleep. Around mid-morning Princess Zoe was walking through the gardens collecting rose blossoms. She saw the hairy hoof of Silenus sticking out from among the bushes, and she thought that a poor sick goat had come into the garden to lie down. As he was dirty and smelled not very nice, she called the gardener. When he came, he pulled on the leg and found, not a goat, but a satyr.

“Ugh, he’s horrible,” exclaimed Zoe. “Throw him on the compost heap.”

“Ah, I’d better ask the king before I do that,” said the Gardener. “After all, a satyr can bring good fortune.”

When King Midas learned that there was a satyr sleeping in the rose garden, he ordered that he be given a bed in the palace until he felt better. The servants carried him on a stretcher to the best guest room. And there he remained, snoring loudly and smelling like – well, a goat – for almost another day.

When finally he arose, he staggered into the palace kitchen and noisily demanded cheese, eggs, and wine.

The cook wanted to chase him out with a meat cleaver, but steward held him back saying that the satyr was a guest of the King. Silenus took the wine and went wandering around the palace leaving dirty hoof prints as he went.

When the Queen saw him, she was horrified: “Who or what is this vile creature that’s come to stay with us?” she asked the King.

Midas replied that he was a friend of Dionysus, and everyone must treat him great courtesy.

Although Princess Zoe and the Queen did their best to stay out of the way of the satyr, King Midas entertained his guest, eating and drinking with him until late at night, and playing music on the pan pipes. All in all, Silenus stayed with Midas for a week.

And no one was more pleased about this show of hospitality than Dionysus, because in his eyes, anyone who honoured Silenus, honoured Dionysus.

A few days after Silenus had left, Midas was walking in his rose garden when he heard some strange but lovely music. He followed the sound and discovered a perfectly beautiful man sitting on the grass and playing a pipe. He knew right away that the stranger was one of the gods and he fell down on one knee. The god said:

“Get up man. I’m not one for ceremonies.
I wish to reward you. What gift would you like more than any other in the world? Power isn’t really my thing, but I can offer you wine, women or song.”

“I need money’, said Midas.

“Money. What good comes of money?” asked the god.

“Well of course a god like you has no use for money,” said Midas, “But we mortals can never have enough of it. I wish that everything I touched turned to gold.”

And although Dionysus thought it was a foolish wish, he granted it with the words: “Midas, all that you touch shall turn to gold.”

The god disappeared, and King Midas rejoiced in his curse. He reached out and touched a rose blossom and it turned to gold. He picked up a stone, and that too became golden. Even a clod of earth became gold.

He plucked an apple from a low branch, and it immediately became cold and shiny. He held it in his hand and said:

“Oh, how pure and perfect it is.”

And then he tossed the golden apple over his shoulder, and hurried into the palace to try his touch on random objects: columns, statues, furniture, doorknobs.

The servants heard his voice laughing and shouting : “Gold, Glorious Gold!” And they wondered what had got into the king.

Princess Zoe heard him too. She found him turning peas into little golden nuggets.

“Father. What has happened?” she asked.

“The most wonderful thing,” he replied. And he hugged her.

But this was not what he had expected. He was holding not his daughter in his arms, but a cold, still statue.

Distraught, he went to the fountain to wash his hot tears from his face. But as he scooped up the water in his hands, it turned into liquid gold.

Now he realised the cruelty of his gift. He called out:

“Lord Dionysus. Save me from this cursed metal!’

And Dionysus heard him and took pity on the foolish King. He appeared sitting on the edge of the fountain and said:

“Go to the river that flows by the great city of Sardis. make your way up stream until you come to the source. Plunge your head and body at the same moment into the foaming fountain, where it gushes out, and wash away your foolishness.”

Midas did as he was told. And when he plunged into the stream, the banks and the flowers that grew on them became yellow and golden. But Midas emerged from the waters free of his wish for riches and gold. And as long as he lived, he rejoiced in all that was simple and natural.

Text Copyright Hugh Fraser 2009 -

The myth from ancient Greece of the boy who flew too close to the sun. It continues the story of Daedalus, whom we first met in The Minotaur. We hear how he and his son Icarus tried to escape from Crete with wings made of feathers and wax. Some of the touching details – such as Icarus playing with the feathers – come from the Latin poet,Ovid.

Read by Natasha. Duration 9.23

I’ve told you before about the half man-half bull called the Minotaur. This strange and terrible beast lived in a deep, dark Labyrinth on the island of Crete. Well you may remember that the Labyrinth was created by the cunning and ingenious mind of Daedalus.

Daedalus was a brilliant architect and inventor – in fact, he was so brilliant that King Minos of Crete did not want to let him go back to his home in Athens. Instead, he kept him as a prisoner. Daedalus lived with his son Icarus in a tower of the palace, and King Minos made him invent weapons of war that would make his army and navy even more powerful than they already were.

Although Daedalus and Icarus had every comfort that they could ask for, the father longed to return home to Athens. His son hardly remembered his home city, but he too wanted to leave, because he longed to run and play in the open, rather than be in a tower all day.

Daedalus looked out over the waves of the Mediterranean Sea, and he realised that even if they could manage to slip out of the tower and find a little boat, they wouldn’t  be able to sail very far before they were spotted and caught by one of the ships of King Minos’s navy.

He thought for a long time about the best way to escape, and finally he came up with a plan, and this is what he did. He told King Minos that he needed feathers and wax for a new invention that he was working on. When these were brought to him, he took them up onto the roof of the tower. Here he arranged them in four lines, starting with the smallest fathers, and following those with the longer ones, so that they formed gentle curves. Then he began to stick the feathers together with thread in the middle and wax at the base. While he was working, Icarus played with the wax, squashing it between his finger and thumb, and when the feathers blew away in the breeze he ran after them and caught them.

When Daedalus had finished, he showed Icarus his work. He had made the feathers into two pairs of wings. He fastened the larger pair to his arms, and began to flap them until his feet took off from the floor and he began to hover in mid air. Icarus laughed with delight and could not wait to try out the smaller pair of wings. Over the next few days father and son both practised with them until little Icaraus was almost as good at flying as his father.

Then one morning Deadalus said to Icarus:

“Now Son, we are ready to leave this island for good. We shall fly home to Athens. But although you are now quite good at flying, you must not forget that it can be very dangerous. So listen to my instructions and be sure to follow them to the letter. At all times follow me, for I will find the way home. Do not veer off on a different flight path, or you will soon be lost. And do not fly too low, or your wings will fill with moisture from the waves and they will become too heavy you will sink down. Nor should you fly too high, or the sun will heat the wax and your wings will fall apart. Have you understood all that I have said?”

Little Icarus nodded to show his father that he had understood. And then Daedalus led his son up onto the battlements of the tower, and like a bird leading her fledglings from the nest for the first time, he jumped into mid air and flapped his wings, and Icarus followed soon after.

If a fisherman or a shepherd had looked up just then, he would have seen two very unusual birds hovering above the waves. No doubt he would have thought that they had caught sight of two winged gods : For who could have believed that a mortal father and son had mastered the art of flight?

Over the seas they sailed, and at first Icarus felt frightened for he had never ventured very far in his practice flights. But soon he found that he was really good at flying. In fact, it was the most tremendous fun you could ever have. He began to swoop up and down with the sea gulls. Wow! It was amazing ! His father turned round and called:

“Icraus, Take Care!” and for a while after that Icraus obeyed his father and flapped along behind him. But then his wings caught a warm air current, and he found that he could soar along and upwards almost without any effort. This was the life ! He was floating ever so high above the waves and the ships down below were like tiny little specks. His father called up to him

“Icarus, remember what I told you. Come down right now!” But Icarus could not hear, and his father could not catch up with him.

Icarus was way too close to the sun, and soon the wax that held the feathers together began to melt. Gradually his wings began to lose their shape, and some of the feathers even began to fall off. Icarus flapped his arms frantically, but it was too late. He had lost the power of flight and down he plunged into the sea.

This is an exciting story of a duel between a monster and a man which took place in a dark underground labyrinth. It also has touch of a romance and the bitter after-taste of a betrayal. A little history about about King Minos of Crete is woven into the story. You can still see the remains of his palace today, at Knossos.

Read by Natasha

Duration 16 Minutes.

A long time ago – almost before history began – King Minos ruled the lovely island of Crete.   The father of Minos was none other than Zeus, lord of all the gods, and he made sure that his son’s wealth and power only grew and grew.

Minos built a navy, and his ships sailed far and wide, bringing back goods, taxes, and something even more important than those – knowledge. For instance, when Minos wanted to build a palace that would strike awe and wonder into all who laid eyes on it, he asked his sea captain, ”Of all the palaces you have seen, on all your travels over the seas, which was the most magnificent?”

And the sea captain replied, ”Your Majesty, the palace of Aegeus , King of Athens, surpasses all others for its beauty and grace. It was designed by Deadalus and the Athenians boast that he is the most brilliant architect who has ever lived.”

When he heard this, King Minos ordered the sea captain to fetch Deadalus to Crete. The sea captain sailed to Athens and told King Aegeus that Minos had need of his chief architect and as Minos was the most powerful leader of those times, King Aegeus could not deny him his wish.

And so Daedalus brought his knowledge and great skill to Crete and there he designed a wonderful palace for Minos. It was built on three floors, which was very high for buildings of those days, and the bathrooms and kitchens had plumbing that was far ahead of their times. Everywhere you went inside, you saw the double headed axe of King Minos which was his symbol of power. Upstairs, the walls were covered with bright pictures of dances and festivities. On them, you could see the young men and women of Crete leaping over the horns of bulls. It a dangerous sport indeed, but the Cretans loved to show off their skill and bravery.

The happiness of Minos was almost complete – there was but one sadness in his life. His wife gave birth to a child that was strange and unnatural. Although its face was human, it walked on four feet with hooves. Horns came out of his head, and in time it grew into a terrible monster – half man, half bull. When it bellowed the whole land of Crete shook, the walls of the palace trembled, and there were storms at sea. The people gossiped about this strange child of the King, whom they called the Minotaur. Minos wanted to have it killed, but he thought the gods would be angry with him if he killed his own son. Instead he ordered Daedalus to build a maze, known as a labyrinth, where the Minotaur could live out of sight and out of mind.

Daedalus built a Labyrinth underground that was so intricate and cunning in its design, that even he himself had trouble finding the way out.

The Minotaur agreed to live in the labyrinth, but he demanded that human beings be sent into his maze at regular intervals, otherwise he would rage with hunger even until the walls of the palace fell down. And so Minos ordered the kings of the nearby lands to send ships full of their young people to sacrifice to the Minotaur. Every ninth year it was the turn of Athens to send its human tribute to Crete. Twice, King Aegeus agreed to this – for he was still afraid of Minos and the power of his navy – but on the third occasion, his son, Prince Theseus said to him, ”Father, this time, let me sail to Crete, and I shall kill the Minotaur and end this misery for our people. ”

Aegeus was very reluctant to send his beloved son to chance his life against the Minotaur but as he could see no other way out of the terrible situation for his people, he agreed.

It was decided that the ship of Theseus would carry two sets of sails. If the mission was successful, it would return to Athens under white sails, but if Theseus was killed by the Minotaur, it would sail back under black sails. That way, the people of Athens would receive the news of the outcome all the sooner.

Prince Theseus sailed to Crete and stayed with King Minos in his magnificent palace. There, on occasion, he caught sight of Princess Ariadne, the lovely daughter of King Minos. When Ariadne saw Theseus she felt great pity for him.

“Certainly, he looks very nice,” she thought, “But what a shame that his life is about to end so soon and so terribly! For even if he succeeds in killing the Minotaur, he will never find his way out of the dark and winding labyrinth.”

And when Theseus saw Ariadne he thought, ”Surely the King’s own daughter knows some of his secrets. If only she could be persuaded to help me, I might stand a better chance of killing the Minotaur and escaping from the labyrinth with my life.”

One day, when for a very short time Theseus found himself alone with Ariadne, he went down on his knees and begged her for any help that she could give him.

Ariadne promised to do what she could and that evening she asked the advice of Daedalus for if anyone knew the way out of the maze, it would surely be its architect. Daedalus too wanted to help Theseus for they were both from the City of Athens, and so he gave Ariadne his secret plan of the labyrinth – but she was dismayed when she examined it and saw the numerous twists and turns in the underground passageways. Even with a map it would be impossible to find one’s way through such a maze.

Later on she found Theseus walking alone in the gardens and she gave him the map. When he unfurled the map and saw its complexity he said: ”Oh Princess. I trust in my courage and my skill with my spear and my sword but doubt that I shall ever find my way out of a maze such as this.”

But Ariadne had thought of a second way to help Theseus. She gave him a ball of thread, and told him to unwind it as he went through the dark labyrinth. And on the way back he should gather the wool up, and follow it back to the daylight.

Theseus was pleased with the plan, and he kissed the hand of the princess thanking her for all her help. The next day he said to King Minos.

“You Majesty, I have been honoured to be your guest for one whole week. Now I am ready to complete my mission, and meet either death or glory.”

King Minos would have been happy for the foreign prince to rid him of the Minotaur, but he thought he stood little chance. He led Theseus to the entrance to the labyrinth and wished him goodbye for he never expected to see him again. Then Theseus ventured into the maze, and a little way in, he tied one end of the ball of thread to a beam. He went further and soon he was in complete darkness. He had to feel his way along the walls, and around the twists and turns of the labyrinth. All the while he unwound the ball of wool that Ariadne had given him. Somewhere, deep inside, the bull was stamping and snorting, impatient to meet its latest sacrifice.

At last, deep within, Theseus could hear that the Minotaur was close by. He found a passageway that led to a dead end, as many of them did but what made this one different was that there was a sudden turning just before the end. He had seen this passage on the map, and it was just the place he was looking for.

Theseus hid himself around this final twist and called out to the Minotaur. It heard him and came charging down the passage but it could not slow down before the turning and charged straight into the wall. While it was still stunned from the impact Theseus thrust his spear into the beast’s neck and killed it  though it did not give up its life before letting out a terrible bellow.

The  walls of the palace shook and trembled, and King Minos said, ”Thank Zeus ! It seems that Prince Theseus has rid us of the terrible monster. But he will never find his way out of the labyrinth and will surely die there.”

But Theseus began to gather up the ball of thread until at last he reached the exit where Ariadne was eagerly waiting for him.

“Princess, how can I thank you,” said Theseus, “For without your help I would never have found my way out of that terrible place.”

And Ariadne replied, ”Take me back to Athens with you, and I shall be your bride.”

Now these were far from the words that Theseus had been hoping to hear. For although Ariadne was extremely beautiful, he was due to marry a different Princess on his return to Athens. But he could not quite find the words to explain this to Ariadne, and so he replied in haste, ”Come: we must leave right away before your father discovers the truth.”

And leading her by the hand he led her down to his ship that was ready and waiting.

They set sail immediately for Athens, and in her heart Ariadne was overjoyed because she would soon marry her hero or so she believed but he had different plans. On the way back, they stopped at the island of Naxos to gather supplies. Ariadne walked to the end of the beach, paddling in the waves and Theseus told the sea captain to set sail as fast as he could. Poor Ariadne was marooned on the island of Naxos abandoned by her faithless lover. She stood high up on the cliffs and watched his sail disappear over the horizon. As she shed bitter tears, Bacchus, the god of wine heard her weeping and decided to cheer her up as best he could. He led his procession to her – wild animals and dancing servants – banging on drums and sounding trumpets. He took her crown from her head, and cast it up into the sky, it soared up to the heavens and its jewels turned into stars and formed a constellation in the shape of a crown.

As Theseus sailed away, he was laughing with the sea captain about the trick they had played. But Poseidon, the god of the seas heard them and was angry with Theseus for his betrayal of the Princess. He sent a storm to toss his ship. The white sales were ripped and torn and fell into the raging seas. The ship survived the storm, but the captain was forced to repair his ship and use the second set of sails – the black ones that were meant to signal failure.

As they approached Athens, they were spotted by fishermen who raced back home to report the dreaded news.
The ship of Theseus, the hope of Athens, was returning under black sails. When this news reached the ears of the old king he ordered his chariot to take him down the harbour to see the ship return. When he saw that it was indeed returning under black sails, he was filled with uncontrollable grief and threw himself from the top of the harbour tower and into the sea where he drowned.

And that is the story of how Theseus betrayed Ariadne who had helped him escape death in the labyrinth of the Minotaur.

Bertie says that if you ever visit the National Gallery in London, you can see a famous picture of Ariadne and Bacchus on the island of Naxos – it’s by an Italian painter called Titian.

And that was not quite the end of the tale, because there is another story about what happened to Daedalus, the architect of the famous Labyrinth. Bertie says it’s a much shorter story, but it’s a good one, with a moral to it.

The final part in our series about the Trojan War brings our ship-wrecked hero, Odysseus back home after 20 long years away. He arrives on his rocky island kingdom of Ithaca disguised as a beggar and finds that his palace is full of suitors wooing his wife, the faithful Queen Penelope. He and his son Prince Telemachus plot a fearful revenge.

This story is full of both exciting fights and touching moments of recognition – none more so than when the faithful dog Argos, lying on dung heap, senses his master. We round off the tale with some moving verses from Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson.

Read by Natasha. Duration 20.48 minutes.

After the war ended, not all the Greeks enjoyed a pleasant homecoming. King Agamemnon went home to his Queen, the evil Clytemnestra – and while he was relaxing in his bath, she plunged a dagger into him. The cleverest of the Greeks, wily, red-headed Odysseus spent ten more years sailing home to his lovely Queen Penelope. When we last left Odysseus, his ship had been wrecked by a storm. All his crew were drowned, but he was washed up on shore, half dead. He managed to crawl to some bushes by the mouth of the river, and there he fell into a deep sleep.

The island was ruled by a wealthy, seafaring people. It just so happened that the King’s daughter – the lovely Nausicaa – had come down to the river with her maids. They were all playing with a ball , and one time it splashed into a swirling pool of the river. The maids shrieked with laughter, and their cries awoke the sleeping warrior.

He clambered out of the bushes, covering his naked, sea-tossed body with leafy branches. The servant girls let out squeals when they saw him – but Princess Nausicaa calmly asked him who he was and how he came to be there.

The stranger replied, “Princess. Your beauty is so great – are you a goddess or a mere mortal? In either case, I stand here at your mercy. My ship was wrecked in the great storm last night. My crew are drowned and I have lost everything.”

For once, the long-suffering Odysseus was in luck. The people of the island respected all who risked their lives at sea. The Princess led the stranger to her father. When the king learned that their guest was Lord Odysseus on his way home from Troy, he prepared a great feast in his honour. Then he ordered a ship to be made ready to take him home. He filled a sea chest for him with rich gifts – sumptuous robes, a golden cauldron, and a handful of jewels.

The ship carried Odysseus home to his rocky kingdom on the island of Ithaca. After 20 years away, he was far from certain what sort of welcome he would receive and so he asked to be put on shore in a quiet harbour, away from the town. There he hid his sea chest in a secret cave and wrapped himself in beggar’s rags. Wearing this disguise, he climbed up a rough path. He came to the part of the island where pigs were kept. As he approached the hut of the pigs’ keeper, some fierce dogs rushed out at him. They were about to tear at his limbs – a fine welcome home – but just in time the keeper appeared and called them off.

“You should be more careful,” he scolded, “for the gods would be angry with me if my dogs ripped apart an innocent stranger – if you are, indeed, an innocent stranger.”

Odysseus recognised the man as his old servant, Eumaeus. He was a good man, and he honoured the Greek tradition of giving food and shelter to strangers. In fact, in the Greek language there was just one word for both stranger and guest – because all strangers should be honoured as guests . That night the two men sat up talking. Eumaeus explained that his master was King Odysseus who had been away for twenty long years, and was almost certainly dead by now, but his loyal wife Queen Penelope would not believe it. Now his palace was full of scoundrels who ate his food and drank his wine. They demanded that Penelope pick one of them to marry but she refused. She told them that she could not marry until she had finished sewing her wedding dress. She worked all day and every night she unpicked her work, so that it was never done.

Her son, Prince Telemachus, had taken a ship and gone in search of his father – but he had found no news. He was expected back any day now. The suitors of Penelope had set up a watch down at the harbour, and they planned to ambush and murder him on the road to the palace.

Odysseus listened to all this but did not say who he really was. The next morning, the swineherd pointed him on the road to the town. Odysseus set out and on his way he met his son, Prince Telemachus, who was smart enough to take a back route to avoid an ambush. The two men walked along – a tramp and a prince side by side. Then Athene, the wise goddess, made Odysseus appear as his true self – younger, stronger, and richly dressed. Telemachus was amazed. He realised that this sudden transformation must be the work of a god or goddess – and then he understood that the man standing before him was his father who had left him as a baby. After they had embraced each other for a long time, they hatched a plan. Telemachus would return to the palace alone, and Odysseus would follow on, dressed as a beggar and accompanied by the loyal swineherd. No matter how many insults his wife’s suitors flung at him, they would keep their tempers till the moment was ripe for revenge.

Later that day, Odysseus and the swineherd approached the town. On the way they were met by a man they both knew – a servant who kept the goats. When he saw the two shabbily dressed men he called out, ”Well look what we have here! One piece of filth sticking to another piece of filth. Old pig keeper, what are you taking that garbage to the palace for? All he’ll get there is a sound beating.”

Odysseus was sorely tempted to batter the man, but he knew he must keep his temper for now, and so he and the loyal swineherd walked past. Not far from the town there was a pile of dung and rubbish. Lying on top of it was a sad old dog who had been cast out of the palace by the suitors. The dog’s name was Argos, and in his prime he had been a fine hunting hound, the favourite of Odysseus. Now he was all but broken. The moment that Odysseus came near, he sensed his master’s scent. He lifted his muzzle from the dung heap and thumped his tail. Odysseus saw him, and went over to pat his faithful animal on the head. Argos licked his master’s hand. He was happy for the first time in many years. And a few moments later he breathed his last.

Inside the palace, they found the suitors feasting. Odysseus went round the tables, begging for food. Some of the suitors threw him some scraps, but their leader was more cruel. He turned to the swineherd and said, “Keeper of Pigs, why do you drag this old corpse into our dining room. Don’t we have enough beggars and pests in this town? Now kindly throw him out before I do much worse to him.”

And Eumaeus, the swineherd, replied, “My lord Odysseus was always kind and respectful to old soldiers who were down on their luck. It is his food and wine that you are helping yourself to – and he would gladly spare a few morsels.”

At this the leader of the suitors flew into a rage. “Fine words, swineherd,” he cried. “And this is what I think of your advice !” With that, he picked up a chair and flung it at Odysseus. It hit him on the shoulder. All the suitors burst out into laughter and started to pelt Odysseus and the swineherd with food. They both kept their cool, and retreated further into the palace.

Emmaeus found the old nurse who had looked after Odysseus as a baby. He said that the stranger was weary from tramping, and asked if she would bathe his feet. She gladly fetched hot water and began to do as she was asked. As she washed him, she could not help but notice a scar on the stranger’s leg. Odysseus had gone out hunting as a young man, and the boar had charged him and dug its tusk into his leg. She recognised the scar at once.

“My Lord,” she said. “You are home at last. Let me rush to your poor Queen and let her know this wonderful news.”

“Hold still,” said Odysseus. “One of the servants might hear her rejoicing and my secret will be out. Don’t breathe a word to a soul, not even to fair Penelope.”

The good old nurse swore that she would keep her master’s secret. As he walked back along the corridor, a maid spat at him and told him to get out of the palace with his begging bowl.

That evening, as Odysseus was sitting on the porch of the palace, along came a real beggar. His name was Irus and he was a complete scoundrel – a cheat and a sneak thief. He was a favourite of the suitors who recognised him as a kindred spirit. Irus was not pleased to see a rival beggar around the palace, competing with him for scraps.

“Get up and get out, you filthy swine,” he said. “Make yourself scarce before I box you around the ears.”

“What’s got into you?” replied Odysseus. “I’ve done you no harm. You’d better keep your mouth shut or you’ll be the one on the wrong end of a beating.”

“Are you threatening me old man?” said Irus. “Well stand up so I can punch your lights out.”

One of the suitors overhead the two old tramps quarrelling and thought it was hilarious. He ordered them both inside so that the suitors could enjoy the spectacle of a beggar’s boxing match.

A space was cleared in the middle of the dining hall. The suitors placed bets on which tramp would knock the other out first. Irus was the clear favourite to win. But then the two men stripped down for the fight. Odysseus’s muscles glistened and all could see that he was built like an ox. Irus began to tremble with fear – but it was too late.

The leader of the suitors whose name was Antinous swiftly changed his wager to back the newcomer. He called out to Irus,  “You’ve filled your fat belly with scraps from our table – old goat that you are – but now it seems you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”

Odysseus hit Irus with a glancing blow and he was out cold. The servants dragged him out by his feet and threw him on the dung heap beside the corpse of old Argos.

The suitors gave Odysseus his reward for his victory: scraps of meat from their plates, but Antinous said to Odysseus, “That was a good hit from an old swine like you, but don’t get any ideas or get above yourself, or you’ll soon be out on your ear.”

Later that night, Odysseus and Prince Telemachus, held a secret conference. This is what Odysseus told his son to do. He must tell his mother to call the suitors together and tell them that she had made up her mind to hold an archery contest. She would marry the man who could string her husband’s old bow and shoot the straightest arrow from it.

Penelope agreed to this idea because she knew that the only man who was strong enough to string her husband’s bow was her husband himself. She thought the contest was a cunning way to show the suitors that not a single one among them was the equal of her true husband.

The next morning the suitors gathered in the dining hall for the contest. They set up a target at the end of the room, and Telemachus handed his father’s great bow to the first to try his aim. But the suitor could not even bend the bow, let alone fire it. The others all laughed at him for being so feeble, but not for long, for none of them had the strength to string the bow. At last, their leader, Antinous took it in his hands, and though he could bend it just a bit, he was far from able to hook the string over its end.

“Fair Penelope must be laughing up in her chamber,” he said. “A fine trick this is of hers, for there’s no man alive who could string this bow.”

Then Odysseus said, “I was once handy with a bow and arrow. I pray let me try my hand.”

The suitors all laughed at the tramp’s boast. But Antinous said, “Certainly. If you string the bow for me I will reward you with gold. If not, I shall beat you within an inch of your useless old life.”

At this, Odysseus picked up the bow and tried it for weight, balancing it in his hand. The suitors mocked him for this display. “Thinks he’s an expert, he does,” they jeered.

Then he placed the bow upright on the ground. He leant into it, and hooked the string over the end with ease. At first the suitors were astounded. And then they realised that the beggar was the king whose palace and hospitality they had been abusing, and whose wife they had been wooing. The realisation came too late to save their skins, for soon Odysseus was letting arrows fly from the bow and picking them off one by one.

One of the suitors who was better mannered than the others tried to bargain with the king. He swore that if he would spare their lives they would pay him back three times over for what they had taken. But Odysseus replied that if they wanted to save their lives they had better fight. Several men charged him with their swords, but Odysseus was swift at letting the arrows fly.

And so Odysseus and his son Telemachus dealt with all the suitors. At the end of the battle not one was left alive. Now Odysseus told his son to fetch Penelope. But when Penelope saw her husband she could not be sure after so many years that it was really him.

“Dearest Queen, how can you be so hard-hearted when you see your husband here before you after twenty long years, ” pleaded Odysseus.

And Penelope still was not sure whether or not to believe her own eyes so she decided to test him. She called the old nurse and told her to move the bed out of their room and prepare it for the stranger in the next room along the corridor.

“How can that be?” asked Odysseus. “If it is my bed then nobody could move it for I made it myself, and one of its pillars is the olive tree that grew on this spot where I build the bedroom with my own hands.”

And then Penelope knew that the man before her truly was her husband, Lord Odysseus, for whom she had waited twenty long years. She threw her arms around him and wept for joy.

And that’s the story over the homecoming of Odysseus. It is also the end of the tales from the Trojan war as told by the Greek bard, Homer, who wrote two epic poems called the Iliad and the Odyssey.

But although our hero was overjoyed to be home, that was not the end of his travels. For Odysseus always longed to go and see new places, and after some time he again set out. The English Poet Alfred Lord Tennyson (in a poem called Ulysses – another name for Odysseus) wrote a few lines about his unquenchable urge to sail the seas:

for my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Circe ranks as one of the greatest witches from all story-telling. A beautiful enchantress, she likes nothing better than to turn men into pigs. (Some have seen her as a bit of a feminist). It is only when the wily Odysseus lands on her island that she finally meets her match.

(Many thanks to Helen Forte for permission to use her fabulous picture of Circe.)

One of our Greek Myths in the Trojan War series. As you may recall, Odysseus was on his way home from the war. He survived a nasty brush with a one eyed giant, the Cyclops, but not all of his men were so lucky. The Sea God Poseidon was angry with him, and destroyed all his ships except the one he was sailing in.

Read by Natasha. Duration 17 minutes .

Now he and his men sailed on across the wine dark sea, until once again they caught sight of an island. They slipped their boat into a snug little harbour, and there they slept for two whole days.

The following morning, Odysseus said they should explore the island and discover who lived there. At these words, his men grew afraid. They remembered the terrible Cyclops who had kept them prisoner in his cave, and had devoured some of their companions.

Odysseus divided his men into two groups, so that if one should get into trouble, the other could come and help. He was leader of one group, and Lord Eurylochus (Yuri-Locus) was the leader of the other. They drew straws to see which group should go and explore first, and as Eurylochus drew the short straw, he and his men had to set out and explore the woods.

After walking two or three hours, the men came to a clearing. They saw a little house surrounded by wild beasts – wolves, leopards, and lions. One of the leopards sprang towards Eurylochus. He thought that he was about to die, but instead of eating him, the leopard rubbed up against him like a cat and purred.

The window of the house was open, and inside a woman was singing. Her voice was mysterious but very beautiful, and the men felt themselves being drawn towards the house, for they all longed to see if the woman was as wonderful as her voice. They walked past the fierce looking beasts, who in fact were really quite tame. Inside they were greeted by tall and elegant woman, her black hair done up in braids. She did indeed look very lovely.

Her name was Circe (Sir-see) and she invited the men to sit down at her table and drink some of her soup. They readily agreed.

As they drank the soup, Eurylochus said: “When I drew the short straw I cursed my bad luck, but how wrong I was! Our hostess is not so terrible after all, eh men?”

But they did not realise that though she was beautiful, Circe was, in fact, a witch. She had slipped a magic potion into their soup, and when they had finished drinking it, she rapped the table with a magic wand and said, “Now you swine, be off to the pigsty where you belong.”

The men looked up astonished. “Madam. Did you just call us pigs?” asked Eurylochus. But Circe just laughed in reply, for the nose of Eurylochus was already growing into a pink snout, and his hands were becoming hairy trotters. In fact, all his men were swiftly turning into pigs. They tried to weep and cry out, but all they could do was to snort and squeal.

“Now do as I say,” cried Circe. “Pigs belong in the sty, not in my Kitchen. Be off with you!” And off they trotted to their new home.

When the men did not return to the ship, Odysseus grew worried, and he decided to go and search for them. He set out across the island in the direction of the smoke he had seen from the cottage. While he was walking through the woods, he met a young man – more of a boy whose beard was still soft and downy on his face.

“Stranger – what are you doing here?” asked the young man.

“I’m going in search of my men who are lost,” said Odysseus.

“No doubt they are guests of the lovely Circe. You won’t find them in her house, but outside in the pigsty. For beautiful though she is, she is really a witch and she turns men into beasts. And if you step inside her house, she will turn you into a pig too.”

“My men – turned into pigs !” exclaimed Odysseus. “Is this how you treat guests on this island?”

The young man did not reply, but he took small plant out of his knapsack and handed it to Odysseus. Its stem was black and its flower as white as milk. “Eat this,” he said. “ It will make you safe against all magic tricks and potions. The name of this plant is molly. It is dangerous for mere mortals to pluck, for only gods can take it out of the ground safely.”

And when he spoke these words, Odysseus realised that this was no ordinary young man, but Hermes the messenger of the gods. And so he ate the molly plant and went on his way.

Soon he came to the house in the woods that was guarded by wild beasts. Circe’s lovely singing voice drifted out through the window, and Odysseus walked boldly past the beasts and into the house. Inside he was greeted by the beautiful witch, who told him to sit down and try some of her soup. While she was heating it, she slipped some magic potion into the broth, for she intended to turn Odysseus into a pig like the others. She gave the soup to him, and he drank it all down, and then she took out her wand and rapped the table with it.

“Now be off with you to the sty, pig-face” she cried.

But Odysseus did not turn into a pig. Instead, he leapt to his feet, drew his sword and rushed at Circe. She, terrified, let out a shriek and fell to his feet begging for mercy.

“Please great lord. Do not take such offence. It was just my strange sense of humour. It comes from living alone for so long, here in the woods, with nothing but wild beasts for company. It is many years since I have seen a strong brave man like you. Come, let me kiss you…’

Odysseus let the beautiful witch kiss him, but all the time he was watching to see that she did not try any more of her tricks. She called her servant-girls and commanded them to prepare a bath for their visitor. They brought hot and cold water and mixed the bath until it was just right. And when Odysseus had bathed and rested, he found that they had prepared a delicious meal for him.

“Come. Why do you look so sad?” asked Circe. “Let us eat together and wash the food down with honeyed wine.”

“How can a leader eat?” asked Odysseus, “When he knows that his companions are living outside in the muddy pigsty?”

And when he spoke these words, Circe knew that it was no use pretending any longer that she was anything other than a witch. She went out to the pigsty and rubbed a magic ointment into the animals. Then she waved her wand and they began to change back into men, only younger and better looking than they were before. And then they began to weep, for what they had been through was truly terrible.

When they had recovered , Odysseus went back to the ship to fetch the rest of his men. They were all united at Circe’s house and sat down to a wonderful feast of celebration.

The Greeks stayed with with witch Circe for an entire month – and she didn’t try any more of her magic tricks on them. One morning Odysseus spoke to her, “Oh Beautiful enchantress – too long have we enjoyed your hospitality. We must continue our journey to our home on the rocky island of Ithaca. But unfortunately, we are completely lost. We do not know these seas. Can you direct us by the safest route?”

And Circe replied, “Lord Odysseus. If it were up to me, I would keep you here always – but I understand that you must be on your way to your home and your lovely wife, Queen Penelope. There is no safe route for you and your men to return home. For when you leave here, you must pass through a narrow straight between the rocks of Scylla and the whirlpool of Charybdis. Both are are perilous – for Scylla is a many armed monster who yelps like a dog. If you sail close to her cliffs, she will reach down and grab some of your men and shove them into her mouth. But if you sail too close to the whirlpool of Charybdis, your entire boat will be sunk down to the bottom of the sea and all of you will drown. It is a terrible choice to make but you are a leader – so plot your course as you see best. Next, if the gods permit you to pass through that dire strait, you will come to the Island of the Sun where the great sun god, Lord Apollo, keeps his herd of sacred cows. Do as I say – steer clear of the Island and do not land there. Nothing and nobody escapes the eyes of Apollo as he looks down from the sky. If you value your lives, avoid his island!”

And so Odysseus and his men said farewell to the lovely Circe and sailed on their way. After three days, just as she had foretold, they reached the narrow passage that she had described. Up on the cliffs they could hear the monster Scylla, yelping like a dog that has been left tied up for too long. As they drew nearer, they could hear the terrible gurgling sound of the whirlpool, Charybdis.

“This is indeed a terrible choice”, thought Odysseus. “But is the lesser evil is to lose some of my men, than for all of us to drown. Therefore, I must chart my course closer to the cliffs than the whirlpool.’

He did not tell his men about Scylla, in case they lost heart and put down their oars. All his mens’  eyes were on the dreadful whirlpool, gurgling like a cauldron The men rowed as hard they could, but as they passed beneath Scylla, she reached down to the ship. Odysseus fought her with his spear, desperately trying to stab at her arms, but he could not prevent her snatching up six of his men. The others rowed on, crying for their companions.

Once they passed through the strait, they saw the Island of the Sun, just as Circe had predicted.

‘Thank heavens for land!” cried the men. But Odysseus tried to tell them it was no good. The must not land, but sail on – for Circe had warned him of terrible danger should they set foot on the island belonging to the great sun god, Lord Apollo.

“Are you a slave-driver?” cried out Lord Eurylochus. “In your rush to reach home, you deny us all rest. We are still grieving for our six lost companions. You cannot order us to sail on. We will surely die of sadness and exhaustion.’

And seeing that the men meant rebellion, Odysseus allowed the ship to land with great misgiving in his heart. They found that the island was covered in green fields, and that fat cattle were grazing. The men waited for Odysseus to fall asleep and then they killed two cows and ate roast meat on the beach. But when the sun rose in the morning, bright Apollo saw what they had done, and said to Zeus, who is Lord of all the gods.

“Great Lord – I am wronged. Those rascals and ruffians who crew the ship of that tricky Greek, Odysseus, have killed the scared cattle that bring joy to my heart. If you will not punish them, I shall go down to the land of the dead and light up the gloomy underworld. No more shall I shine in the skies above the world.”

And when Zeus heard these words. he replied, “It is indeed a crime to take what rightly belongs the gods. When these men set sail tomorrow, I shall hit their boat with a burning thunderbolt.’

The next day, Odysseus told his men to set sail. When they were out out at sea, the sun disappeared behind a black cloud. The dark skies filled with lightening and an electric flash shot down from the hand of Lord Zeus and hit their boat, ripping it into two. All the men fell into the raging sea. Odysseus clung for his life to the broken mast of the ship, and somehow survived the storm. The sun shone once again on the now calm waters, and Odysseus saw land. Using his last strength, he swam into the shore and staggered onto the beach, where he fell down, exhausted.

We bring you one of the most exciting stories from Homer’s Odyssey with our version of In the Cyclops Cave. Warning: It’s a rather scary story – as it is all about a giant who likes nothing better than to eat people.

Odysseus, the craftiest man alive, is sailing home from the Trojan War. He and his men go ashore and find a cave with sheep, goats and cheese. They make themselves comfortable, only to find that the cave belongs to a one- eyed giant.

You can find our other Greek Myths, including the earlier Trojan stories, here.

Read by Natasha. Duration 20 minutes.

After the Greeks destroyed the fabulous city of Troy, they sailed home in their black ships, but not all of them received a warm welcome by any means. When King Agamemnon returned to his palace in Argos, his Queen Clytemnestra was far from pleased to see him. You see, before he left for Troy, King Agamemnon had sacrificed the life of their daughter so that the gods would send a fair wind to blow the Greek ships to Troy. Now, Clytemnestra hated her husband more than any man alive – but she pretended to be all smiles and kisses.

And while Agamemnon was relaxing his weary limbs in the warm, soapy water, Queen Clytemnestra crept up with a knife and killed him.

But on the island of Ithaca, a very different Queen, whose name was Penelope, was longing for the safe return of her husband. She had to wait quite a while though. His journey home took him ten long years, and all that time, Penelope was surrounded by men who wanted to marry her and steal her husband’s throne. She said to the suitors, “Gentlemen, I am spinning a magnificent bed-spread for my wedding night. First let me finish making it, and then I will say which one of you I shall choose for my new husband”. And every day Penelope worked at spinning her wheel, and every night she unpicked her threads, so that her work was never done. In this way she kept the men waiting – for she was sure that her husband was still alive and would return home safely to her arms.

His name was Odysseus and he was famous all over the world for his quick mind and his cunning tricks. It was Odysseus who had come up with the idea of the wooden horse, which led to the destruction of Troy. But despite all his resourcefulness, he made slow progress home, for Poseidon the god of the seas was angry with him. The sea god sent howling winds to blow Odysseus off his course, and fierce storms to buffet his ships. And this is the story of why he was so angry.

Odysseus and his men sailed in their swift boats, their oars turning up white foam on the wine-dark sea. One evening they landed on a small island. He and his men hunted down goats for their dinner and that evening they ate roast meat on the beach. In the morning, Odysseus looked across the water to the mainland. He saw a wild country, with wooded mountains wrapped in mist. He decided to go and see what kind of people lived on that land. He told most of his men to wait behind, but he sailed across the water in his own boat with his crew of twenty brave men. On his back he took a skin full of fine wine that had been given to him by a priest of the sun god, Apollo. He thought it would make a good gift for his hosts, whoever they might be.

When they got ashore, they scrambled up the steep cliffs and explored the woods. They saw nobody, but high up on the mountain they discovered a vast cave. Inside they found lambs and goat kids living in pens, and on the ground were piles of round cheeses and barrels full of milk. The men were all for stealing the cheese and a few lambs, and taking them back to the ship as fast as possible. But Odysseus commanded them to sit down and wait for the owner of the cave – for he was sure he would be a rich man, and generous to travellers, according to the laws of the gods. So they waited until evening, and in the meantime they lit a fire, and helped themselves to the cheese and milk.

Towards sunset, they heard the tinkling of sheep bells, and they knew that the owner of the cave was driving his flocks back home. First the sheep came running into the cave, and then they were followed by a giant who had to stoop to enter through the door. He had one eye in the middle of his forehead, as do all those who belong to the race of the Cyclops.

The Cyclops was astonished to find a band of men making themselves comfy in his cave and eating his cheese. He blinked with his one eye and asked in a terrible voice,

“And who might you be?”

Odysseus replied: “We are Greeks on our way back from the glorious war in Troy. Lord Zeus, the king of all the gods is our protector, and according to his laws you must treat us kindly, provide us with gifts, and send us safely on our way.”

Instead of replying, the Cyclops went to the door of the cave and rolled a great stone into the opening so that the exit was blocked. Now the only light in the cave was from the fire lit by Odysseus and his men.

“What care I for the laws of Zeus?” said the Cyclops. “I am strong and besides, I am protected by Poseidon, the god of the seas and of earthquakes too, for he is my father.”

Odysseus and his men retreated into the dark corners of the cave, but the Cyclops could see the in the dark with his one eye, for it glowed as bright as the fire.

“Don’t talk to me of laws!” said the Cyclops. “I know your type. You are scoundrels who sail the wine-dark seas, raiding the people who live on their shores, killing and burning and plundering whatever takes your fancy. In fact, you are lawless pirates, that’s who you are!”

And with that he grabbed up two of the men and stuffed them into his mouth. “Hmm,” he said. “Nice dinner.”

The Greeks threw up their hands and wailed: “Oh Lord Zeus save us from this horrific monster!” but the Cyclops just chuckled to himself and lay down to sleep by the fire.

Odysseus drew his sword and was tempted to drive it straight into the heart of the giant while he slept, but then he thought: “If I kill the Cyclops, revenge will be sweet, but I will also be sending us to our doom, for we shall never remove that great boulder from the door of the cave. Not twenty horses could pull that rock away. We shall surely remain here till we die.”

And so he and his men lay down and wept for their lost friends, while Odysseus wracked his brains for a better way to avenge them.

In the morning, the Cyclops awoke and without haste he ate two more of Odysseus’ men (for breakfast). Then he led his sheep out to the pasture, being careful to roll the rock into the mouth of the cave after him.

The Cyclops had left behind him a great walking stick, of the sort that shepherds use to climb over the mountains. This gave Odysseus an idea. He ordered his men to look for sharp pieces of flint in the back of the cave. They took these and used them to sharpen the end of the stick into a cruel point. Next Odysseus told his men to pick up the stick and harden the point in the fire.

That evening when the Cyclops returned, the men trembled with fear, not knowing which ones of them the Cyclops would eat next.

But Odysseus wished the giant good evening, saying: “My dear Cyclops. Let us not be enemies. See here, I have a gift for you of the finest wine. It was given to me by a priest of Apollo who wanted to thank me for saving his life. It tastes no less wonderful than the ambrosia which the gods who live on mount Olympus feast upon. Here, I have a whole skinful for you.”

The Cyclops tried a cup of the wine and he liked it. “For once you speak the truth, oh pirate,” he said. “This wine is indeed the finest I have ever tasted,” and he picked up the skin and guzzled some more wine down.

“Tell me little man,” he said, “what is your name?”

“My name,” said Odysseus “is Nobody. That is what I am called by my friends who love me, and my enemies who fear me.”

“Well I am neither your friend, nor do I fear you,” said the Cyclops,” but I shall call you Nobody all the same, if that is how you like to be called. For in truth, you will be nobody soon when I’ve eaten you. But as a reward for your gift of fine wine, I shall not eat you till I have eaten all the others.”

Before he went to bed he ate two more of Odysseus’s men, and finished the entire skin full of wine – enough to put fifty men to sleep – and he fell into a deep slumber on the floor of the cave, snoring like a volcano.

Now that the Cyclops was sound asleep, Odysseus ordered those of his men whom the Cyclops had not yet eaten to pick up the great stick that they had sharpened and hardened in the fire. They carried it over their shoulders – for it was as big as the trunk of a young tree – and they drove it into the one and only eye of the Cyclops. The giant let out a terrible scream – and raged around the cave calling for help. The other one-eyed giants who lived near-by came running to see what was the cause of this commotion.

“What’s happened to you?” they called from outside the cave.

“Nobody has hurt me,” wailed the Cyclops. “Nobody came into my cave and did this to me.” The other giants were baffled by the Cyclops’ cries, since he insisted that “nobody” was harming him. Much confused, they all went back to bed.

In the morning, the Cyclops was careful to make sure that Odysseus and his men did not slip out of the cave. As each of his sheep went out, he felt it carefully to check that a man was not riding on its back. But he did not know that Odysseus had ordered his followers to tie the sheep together in threes, and that now they were clinging upside down between the sheep. The last animal to leave the cave was the old ram with curly horns. Odysseus was clinging to his underside. The Cyclops stroked the ram and said, “Cruel Nobody has blinded me, but I shall have my revenge. I shall find him tonight cowering in the corner of the cave, and I shall eat him for dinner, chewing very slowly.”

When Odysseus and his men were clear of the cave, they started to scramble down the cliffs to the beach, taking some of the lambs with them. They pulled their boat out from where it was hidden in the brush wood, and started to row swiftly out to their friends on the island. Up above on the cliffs they saw the Cyclops, standing as tall as an oak tree and bellowing with rage: “Oh woe is me! Nobody has blinded me in my one eye, and now Nobody is escaping across the seas!”

Odysseus stood up in the boat and called out to him, “Cruel Cyclops. You broke the laws of Zeus by eating my men and now you have your just deserts. Never again shall you see the light of day with that terrible eye of yours!”

His men begged him to sit down in the boat and keep quiet, but he carried on calling out insults to his enemy. In reply the giant picked up a huge rock and hurled it down into the sea. It sent up a great wave that rocked the boat so that it almost turned over. When it was steady, hot-headed Odysseus stood up in the boat again, and despite the pleas of his men he called out:

“Listen here you Monstrous giant. If anyone asks you who did this to you, say it was swift-witted Odysseus, son of Laertes, sacker of cities. Yes it was none other than Odysseus of rocky Ithaca who took the eye of the cruel stupid Cyclops.”

And the Cylops sent another boulder flying into the sea. And this sent up another great wave that almost sank the boat again. Now the Cyclops went down on his knees and prayed to Poseidon,

“Oh great ruler of the seas, mighty lord who makes the earth quake and tremble… dear Poseidon, my father… hear my prayer. I did not think to fear this swift-witted Odysseus, son of Laertes, Sacker of Cities. He was such a puny and feeble little man. But please, oh great sea god, grant me revenge. Send a terrible storm to pick up his ships like toys and fling them back down again so that they smash into smithereens and all his brave men are drowned. Or if it is not permitted to end his life before its time, then make sure he only returns home, after many long years of great suffering, and that he finds his land in turmoil, and the echoing halls of his palace full of greedy robbers devouring his wealth. Oh sea lord. Hear the prayer of Polyphemus the Cyclops – for I am your loving son.”

The sea god Poseidon heard the prayer of his son, the cruel Cyclops with one blind eye, and that is the reason why Odysseus spent ten long years buffeted by the cruel seas before he reached his home land.

For now, from me, Natasha, Bye Bye!

One of the most famous tricks in all literature is the subject of this, the third story in our Troy series (filed under Greek Myths)

The war between the Greeks and the Trojans is in its tenth year. The Trojans rejoice when they wake up one day to find that the Greek army has finally departed. They have left behind them a strange gift – a giant wooden horse. The Trojans are divided – should they set fire to the statue or should they honour and worship it?

The original for our adaption can be found in Book II of the Aeneid by the Roman Poet Virgil. The Greek poet Homer only mentioned it in passing. This partly explains the famous line with an anti-Greek sentiment, “I fear the Greeks, especially when they are bringing gifts.”

Read by Natasha. Duration 12 Minutes.

The happiest day in the history of Troy was when the Greek army sailed away. For ten long years the war had raged, and many of the finest and bravest warriors on both sides, had fallen in battle. How the Trojans rejoiced as they walked along the shore where the Greek enemy had camped! Here, cruel Achilles had set up his tent. There, the arrogant King Agamemnon had commanded his men. And now, for the first time in their lives, the children of Troy could run and play in the foam of the sea, and teenage boys and girls could walk hand in hand beneath the cliffs.

But little did they realise that the enemy army had not set sail for far away Greece. Instead, they had only taken their ships to the other side of the island called Tenedos, and there they were lurking, out of sight, but still not far away. It was all a cunning trick thought up by the wiliest of the Greeks, the red haired Odysseus (ode-iss-see-us), who was never short of a plan.

The Trojans saw that the Greeks had left behind a strange offering. It was a giant wooden horse with ribs made from the planks of fir trees. The people marvelled at the massive statue, but there were different opinions about what they should do with it. Some wise old men saw there was something not quite right about the horse, and advised that they should set fire to it straight away. Others warned that , the gods would be angry with them if they did not honour the statue. After all, the wooden horse was dedicated to grey-eyed Athena, the great goddess of wisdom, and nobody wanted to feel her wrath.

The crowd was wavering, and a white-bearded old Priest spoke out above the murmur. “Fellow citizens. Whatever this strange horse may be, remember this: it is always wise to fear the Greeks, especially when they are bringing gifts. By the Great God Poseidon, Lord of the Seas, and by everything that is sacred, let us not fall into this deadly trap, for that is what it surely is! ”

So saying, the old priest hurled a mighty spear at the horse, and and it flew into the beast’s side and quivered, and the guts of the horse reverberated with an eerie hollow sound like a long, deep moan. And had the Trojans decided there and then to set fire to that horse of death, their lovely city would be standing to this day, and the descendants of King Priam would be living in peace and happiness.

But just then, a Trojan patrol came upon the scene, and they brought with them a prisoner – a Greek called Sinon whom the army had left behind.

“Now we will find out the truth!” said the Trojan guards. “Let’s poke this wretched Greek spy with our bronze Spears until he tells us what this Greek gift is all about!”

When he heard this, the poor prisoner cried out: “No, please! Don’t harm me. I’ll happily tell you all you want to know, for cruel, scheming Odysseus is no more a friend of mine than he is of you.”

And so the Trojans listened to what Sinon had to say, and they tried to fathom whether or not he spoke the truth.

“Do you not think that the Greeks would have gladly given up this war before ten long years had had passed? Let me tell you that many times they planned to leave their sufferings behind, as they have done now. . But each time they prepared to sail way in their beaked black ships, the sea god Poseidon sent a terrible storm, and whipped up giant waves on the wine dark sea. They consulted a priest who told them the reason why the gods were inflicting such pain. You see, before he left his home in Argos, King Agamemnon, the great leader of men, waited an entire month for a wind to blow his ships to Troy. Eventually, he decided that the gods required a very special offering. And as usual, it was scheming Odysseus who thought up the plan. He sent for Agamemnon’s own daughter, his darling Iphigenia, and told her that she was to marry swift-footed Achilles. She came with great joy and gladness in her heart for Achilles was the handsomest and bravest of the Greeks, but it was all the most dreadful trick. Instead of marrying Achilles at the altar on the cliffs high up above the sea, the priest sacrificed the lovely white-skinned young maiden to the sea god. And straight away as the foul dead was done, the winds began to blow.

“Now, ten long years later, as we were waiting for a wind to take us back home, Odysseus came up with another plan. “I know,” he said, “Let’s sacrifice the most useless of those among us. Nobody will miss Sinon. He has only ever criticised our plans, and called us leaders wicked and foolish. We once sacrificed an innocent young girl, now let’s give the gods the life of a man, and you’ll see, they will send us a fair wind to blow us swiftly home.”

“But before Odysseus sent his guards to fetch me to my death, a rumour reached me of what he had said, and I ran into the woods and hid. And so the Greeks came up with a second plan to appease the gods. And you see the result before you. This magnificent wooden horse is their offering, to say how sorry they are for all the needless death and destruction they have caused. Only bring it inside your walls before night falls, because unless I am far wrong, there will be gold and treasure hidden deep inside the belly of that wooden horse.”

And when the Trojans had heard Sinon’s tale, many of them were greedy for treasure, and they believed his wicked lies – for he spoke most convincingly but still the crowd was uncertain what to do – until, that is, a most terriblel thing happened. The old priest who had thrown his spear at the horse, was standing by the sea, when a great monster came swimming into shore and carried him off its jaws. It all happened in a flash, and the Trojans were filled with a strange terror.

Sinon one again called out: “You see, Trojans. Nothing but the truth I spoke! The Gods have rightly punished that wicked old priest for sending his spear into the wooden horse!”

And now nobody dared to disagree. And the Trojans brought ropes and placed wheels beneath the statue’s feet, so that they might pull the wooden horse through the gates of their magnificent city. And as the ill-omened procession entered Troy, girls and boys danced around the horse singing holy chants. There was rejoicing in the city, and even the fortune teller, Casandra did not dare open her lips though she foresaw the imminent doom. For the gods had given Casandra the gift of clear-sighted prophesy but had decreed that not one person would believe her.

It was a clear moonlit night, and the Trojans carried on partying. Sinon the Greek had been set free, and nobody noticed that he lit a fire on the beach to signal to the army on the island of Tenedos that the wooden horse was within the walls of Troy. Next he returned to the city, and opened a secret door in the belly of the horse. And the Greek band of warriors, who had been hiding all that time within, let down a long rope- and they were led to the ground, by wily Odysseus, who was the first of them to stand in the central square of magnificent Troy.

It was not long before the Greek intruders had surprised the guards on the main gates and killed them. Soon the wide doors were open, and the Greek army was surging into Troy. The Trojans were either drunk or sleeping and in no way ready to fight. On every side the city was in turmoil. Soon the palace of King Priam was in the grip of fire, and Helen – the most beautiful woman in the world, for whom these ten years of war had been fought, was throwing herself at the feet of her Greek husband, King Menelaus, and protesting how she had been kidnapped and brought to Troy against her will. It was all lies, of course, but Menelaus was ready to be believe his lovely wife and took her once more in his arms.

Greek Myths continues the story of the Trojan War (see the first part, Helen of Troy). Although it’s a story on an epic scale, the action comes down to some very personal grudges between great warriors. It also has its touching moments amid the exciting clashes of bronze swords. The original was composed in around 800 BC. It was most probably an oral tale, and therefore made to be told out aloud.

This Storynory version for children is an extremely compressed retelling of Homer’s epic poem, The Iliad, but we’ve done our best to keep some of its spirit, and in places we’ve drawn on Samuel Butler’s translation.

Read by our muse, Natasha. Duration 19 Minutes.

Each of the great cities of Greece sent an army to join the war against the Trojans – each, that is – except for one. The City of Thebes refused to join the war, saying that it had no quarrel with the far away Trojans. And so the Greek King Agamemnon (Aga-mem-non) decided to teach the Thebans a lesson. He ordered his men to destroy their beautiful city and take its treasure – and that is what they did. While the ruined city of Thebes was still burning, the greatest of the Greek warriors shared out the the prizes of war. King Agamemnon chose for himself one of the captives – a beautiful young girl, called Chryseis (Cry-see-is) – a priest’s daughter. Agamemnon told her that she must live with him from now on, and be his slave. The girl wept bitterly and begged to be returned to her father, but King Agamemnon had a cruel heart, and was unmoved by her tears.

Eventually, the Greek ships reached Troy, and the army set up a vast camp on the beach not far from the city. One evening, the good old priest who was the father of Chryseis, arrived at the camp and asked to meet King Agamemnon and all the greatest of the Greeks. And this is how he spoke:

“Oh Agamemnon, Leader of Men, may the Gods grant your wish to destroy the magnificent city of Troy, and may all the Greeks return home safely in their black ships, but grant me this favour: free my daughter and accept in her place a gift of great treasure that I have brought for you.”

The Greek army cheered the old man for his generous offer, and for the love that he had shown for his daughter, but Agamemnon flew into a rage. “Old man,” said he, “let me not find you hanging about our ships, nor coming here again. I will not free your lovely daughter. She shall grow old in my house, in Argos, far from her home. So get out of my sight right now, or it will be the worse for you!”

The priest was afraid and swiftly left but later that evening, he knelt down on the shore of the resounding sea and prayed to the immortal god, Apollo of the silver bow. And Apollo heard the good old man’s prayer for just revenge, and he took up his silver bow and fired arrows into the Greek camp. The arrows of Apollo brought disease, and many of the Greek soldiers fell ill.

By far the greatest of the Greek warriors was Achilles.(A-kill-ees) He was faster and stronger than any man alive, and also very proud.

When Achilles saw the Greek soldiers dying of disease, he called a meeting of all the generals and spoke as follows: “Noble Agamemnon, though you are our leader, I must speak the truth. It was wrong to threaten the priest, a good old man who came to you with a generous offer. The gods are angry with us for what you did, and matters must be put right. You must return the lovely Chryseis to her father.”

King Agamemnon, was surprised to hear such words, as he was not at all used to being told what to do.

“Great Achilles”, he said, “ Brave and strong you may be, but I am King and I shall do what I like and you shall know your place!”

To which Achilles replied, “You are too greedy! Why should all the Greeks suffer for your evil ways. I, for one, am not going to follow a leader like you into battle.”

Now King Agamemnon was absolutely furious but he also understood that something must be done to appease the gods and stop the plague that was destroying his army and so the next day he ordered a boat to take the young girl back to her father but he also sent messengers to the tent of Achilles and ordered him hand over his own slave girl. And from that moment on the pride of Achilles was so hurt that he refused to take part in the battle for Troy but instead stayed inside his tent and sulked while the Greeks went out and fought.

Soon after, the Trojans opened the great doors of their city and their army marched out - like a flock of wild birds swooping back and forth and calling with screeching voices.

Now the finest warrior among the Trojans was Prince Hector. He was the brother of Paris, but he was quite different in character. Hector was brave and noble, while Paris loved fine clothes and parties and enjoyed his riches to the full.

As they rode out to battle, Hector said to his brother, “Paris, it is for your sake that thousands of brave soldiers will die today. It is only because you ran away with the Greek Queen Helen that this great army has arrived at our gates with the aim of destroying our beautiful city, killing all the men, and carrying off the women and children as slaves. It were better that you had not been born, my brother.”

When he heard this, Paris felt ashamed and to make amends, he drove his chariot out in front the Trojan army and towards the enemy. In his fiercest voice, Paris called out to the Greeks to send forth their bravest warrior, and to fight him in single combat to decide the war – so that others need not suffer.

On the Greek side, King Menelaus (Menel-a-us) hated Paris more than any other man alive. And so Menelaus jumped out of his chariot and said. “I will gladly fight Paris, and and kill him with my spear that is made of ash wood and tipped with cruel bronze.”

And when Paris heard this, he was so frightened that he coiled back like a man who has seen a snake, and he shrank into the protection of his men. Great laughter arose from the Greek army, and the Trojans were furious with Prince Paris for bringing shame on them. And then Paris began to worry that if the beautiful Helen heard about his running away, she would not love him anymore. And so he gathered his courage, and went out once more in front of the army, and again shouted out to the Greeks, “I call on you men to lay your swords and spears on the ground while King Menelaus and I fight one another – hero against hero.”

And Menelaus did not give Paris time to change his mind. He hurled his spear at him so that it broke his shield, but just missed his body. Paris fell backwards, and soon Menelaus was on him, dragging him by the plume of his helmet towards the Greek army. But the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite, who was fond of Paris, saw what was happening and came to his aid disguised as a cloud. She scooped him into her lovely arms, and whisked him back to his Palace where the fair and fragrant Helen was waiting for him.

And so the Greeks and the Trojans fought each other in battle. Many brave soldiers were killed and wounded on both sides, but so long as Achilles refused to help the Greeks, the Trojans were stronger and drove the Greeks back to their camp. At night, a thousand camp fires glowed upon the plain and by the light of each fire there sat fifty men while the horses champed oats and corn beside their chariots and waited for dawn to come.

The Greeks begged the great warrior Achilles to come out and fight, but still he refused to join the battle but his best friend, whose name was Patroclus, came up with a cunning plan. He secretly put on the magnificent armour of Achilles and went out into the battle, looking exactly like the great hero. He knew that when the Greeks saw him, they would gain courage at the sight of Achilles and fight with redoubled strength, and when the Trojans saw him and they would think that the warrior they most feared had returned, and would lose heart. When the Trojans saw Patroclus dressed like Achilles, Prince Hector, flew at him with his spear and killed him. Only then did he discover that it was not Achilles whom he had killed, but Patroclus.

When the mighty Achilles heard that his best friend had been killed by Hector, his anger and sorrow were great in equal measure, and he stood up before a meeting of the Greek army and said: “As you know, King Agamemnon has insulted me and I have every right not to fight in this stupid war. But now things have changed. My best friend has been killed by Prince Hector of Troy. It is for the sake of Petroclus – who was dearer to me than any other man – that I will take up the fight and avenge his death.”

And when the Greek army heard this, they all cheered and threw their helmets in the air, for they knew that with Achilles on their side, victory could be theirs.

When Prince Hector saw that Achilles stood once again at the head of the Greek army, he knew that there was only one thing for it. He must go out and fight Achilles, and decide the fate of Troy.

As he was leaving for battle, he went in search of his wife, the lovely Andromache (An-drom-a-kee). He found her walking along the great walls of the city, holding their little baby in her arms. When she saw her husband, Andromache said, “Brave Hector. I beg you. Do not go out today to fight Achilles. What will I do when you are gone? Think of your little son. What use is a father to him if he is dead?”

But Hector replied that he could not refuse to fight, as the Greeks and the Trojans would say he was a coward.

He stretched his arms towards his child, but when boy saw the horsehair plume that nodded fiercely from his father’s helmet, he was scared and cried, nursing his head into his mother’s bosom.

His father and mother laughed to see him, but Hector took the helmet from his head and laid it all gleaming upon the ground. Then he took his darling child, kissed him, and dangled him in his arms, praying over him to Zeus, the King of all the gods. “Mighty Zeus,” he said, ”May one day people say that this child is even braver than his father, and a mightier warrior in battle, so that their praise gladdens the heart of his mother.”

Hector rode out before the gates of Troy. Achilles, seeing him, started to run with all his might towards Hector, ready to hurl his spear at his hated enemy. Hector jumped from his chariot and stood firm, waiting to meet Achilles, but secretly he thought to himself:

“What, if I were to lay down my shield and helmet, lean my spear against the wall and go straight up to noble Achilles? What if I were to promise to hand back Helen, who was the cause of all this war, and to let the Greeks take half of all the treasure in the city? – but why argue with myself in this way? Were I to go up to him now, he would show me no mercy.”

As he pondered, the swift-footed Achilles charged up to him as if he were Aries himself, the plumed God of battle. The bronze tip of his spear gleamed around him like the rays of the rising sun. Fear came over Hector and he turned and ran while Achilles darted after him at his utmost speed. As a mountain hawk, swiftest of birds, swoops down upon some trembling white dove -that is how Achilles make straight for Hector with all his might, while Hector fled around the City walls as fast as his legs could carry him.

Achilles chased Hector three times around the walls of Troy until at last Hector turned and fought. First Achilles threw his spear at Hector and missed. Then Hector threw his spear at Achilles and hit his shield, but did not break it. Then they fell on each with clashing bronze swords, and Achilles, for he was the stronger hero, killed Hector.

When they heard the sad news, all the women of Troy wept for the loss of their greatest hero, but none wept more than his wife, Andromache.

Now that the finest hero of the Trojans was dead, the Greek army thought that they would soon win the war. King Priam of Troy greatly grieved the loss of his bravest son, and feared that the city would soon be defeated. But this is not how things turned out – not yet. For Apollo, the winged god of the Silver Bow, again decided to help the Trojans. One day, in the midst of battle, he came up to Prince Paris and spoke to him as follows: “Hail, Paris, Prince of Troy. Lift up your bow and fire an arrow into the Greek army. I will guide its point into Achilles and kill him.”

When he heard this, Prince Paris replied, “Almighty Apollo, I will gladly do as you ask. But will I not just waste my arrow? For everyone knows that when Achilles was a baby, his mother dipped him in the River Styx that runs through the Underworld – and as a result, no weapon can wound him, for the waters of the River Styx make a man immortal.”

And Apollo replied, “Paris, you speak the truth, but the gods gave the great Achilles a choice – he could lead a short and glorious life, or a long and boring one. He chose glory and so his life must be short.”

And so Paris dipped his arrow in deadly poison, and fired it into the air. It flew in an ark and its poisoned tip drove into Achilles’ heel. For when Achilles’ mother had dipped him in the river of the underworld, she had held him by his heel, and no water had touched it. And now Achilles fell from his chariot, and soon his great body lay on the ground, dead.

And that is the story of how the Greeks and the Trojans fought for nine years without either side gaining victory. Many brave warriors died on either side, and many tears were shed over lost sons and lost friends. Soon I will tell you how the war ended with a cunning trick. And Bertie is reminding me not to forget to tell you about the Wooden Horse. Sorry Bertie, there wasn’t time for this Wooden Horse this time, but I truly promise to tell everyone all about it soon.

For now, from me, Natasha, Bye! Bye!

We dip into mythology, with Bertie’s telling of the tale of Troy. Paris, the handsome and fashionably dressed Prince of Troy, was asked to judge a divine beauty contest, and chose Aphrodite the Goddess of Love as the winner. As a reward, Aphrodite promised him the love of the most beautiful woman in the world, none other than Helen. Unfortunately, Helen was married to the King of Sparta. The scene was set for the great war between the Greeks and the Trojans. More stories about Troy will follow on this page.

We’ve written some more background to this story for those doing school projects on Helen. You may also be interested in these ancient sources for the myth.

The story of Eris, the Goddess of Strife, is known from the remaining 50 lines of the Kypria, a lost epic of Greek Literature.

The Judgement of Paris was told by the Latin Poet Ovid in his Heroides XVI.

Homer has surprisingly little to say about the Judgment of Paris or the kidnapping of Helen, but we have drawn on his description of Helen and King Menelaus at home in the Odyssey Book IV.

Read by Natasha. Duration 13.5 Minutes.
A long time ago, in the age of heroes, when gods and goddesses still took a close interest in human affairs, a great wedding was planned between a famous warrior called Peleus and a lovely sea nymph whose name was Thetis. All the kings and queens of the day were invited to the wedding feast, as well as all the immortal ones who lived on Mount Olympus – all, that is, except for one. For no invitation was sent to Eris, the goddess of strife. Now strife is when people argue, and it was generally thought a bad idea to invite strife to a wedding party, in case she caused the happy couple to quarrel. Eris was extremely annoyed about being overlooked, and as revenge, she decided to play a spiteful trick on the wedding guests. Just as the celebrations were at their height, she appeared in the banqueting hall dressed as a serving girl. A silver plate was in her hands, and on it was an apple on which she had written the words, “For the Fairest of them all”.  This she placed on the table where the three loveliest goddesses were sitting . Their names were Hera, Athene and Aphrodite. Immediately that they saw the words on the apple, a quarrel broke out between the three goddesses.

Hera said to the others, “I am the Queen of all the immortal gods, and it follows that I must be far fairer than either of you two. So therefore the apple belongs to me”

“My dear Hera,” said Athene, “You might be Queen, but I am the goddess of wisdom, and therefore I know absolutely everything that is worth knowing. You must believe me when I say that you are quite mistaken. Wisdom is beauty, and beauty is wisdom. They are one and the same thing. So therefore the apple belongs to me.”

“Darlings,” purred Aphrodite. “It’s quite obvious that the apple belongs to me. I possess the power of love because, to put it quite simply, I am so much more beautiful than anybody else.”

The goddesses carried on arguing continuously for years after the wedding was over – for time means nothing to the immortal ones. The king of all the gods, mighty, thundering Zeus, became quite fed up with listening to their bickering. When, at length, he was at his wits’ end he suggested to the three lovely goddesses that they resolve the question once and for all with a beauty contest. And that is exactly what they did.

The three goddesses agreed on one thing: that the most handsome and fashionably dressed mortal who walked on the face of the earth was Paris, Prince of Troy. They decided to surprise him. One day when Paris was out hunting on the foothills of Mount Ida, he discovered three lovely goddesses standing beneath a tree. In all his life he had never seen such dazzling beauty. For a moment, he stood amazed. Then Hermes, who was the winged messenger of the gods, flew up to Paris and spoke to him as follows:

“ Hail Paris! Prince of Magnificent Troy. Lord Zeus, the King of all the gods, sends you his greetings. He wishes to bestow upon you a great honour. He asks that you give this apple to the fairest goddess of them all.”

Paris, who normally had a keen eye for beauty, found it hard to choose. Each goddess was so beautiful. Hera had the most lovely milky white skin ever seen. Athene had the most dazzling, dancing eyes. And Aphrodite had the most charming smile. Which should he pick?

At length, seeing that he was at a loss, Hera said to him:

“Prince Paris. Give the apple to me, and I will give you the gift of great power.”

Athene, not to be outdone by this offer, said, “Prince Paris, Give the apple to me, and I will give you the gift of great wisdom.”

But Aphrodite laughed and said. “Paris my dear, Don’t you listen to those two silly goddesses. What fun would you have with power or wisdom? Give the apple to me, and I will give you a gift that is much more to your liking. I shall give you the love of the most beautiful woman on earth.”

Now Paris no longer found the choice so hard to make. He had long been in love with the most beautiful woman on earth, whose name was Helen. It so happened, that Helen was married to King Menelaus, and Paris had thought up until that moment, that the possibility of his winning her love was beyond all hope, but now he understood that his chances could be greatly improved.

And so Paris gave the apple to Aphrodite. She giggled with delight, but the other two goddesses were furious and flew directly back to Mount Olympus in a great huff, where they complained long and bitterly to Zeus about the unfairness of the competition. Zeus had a dark feeling that there was trouble in store for humankind.

Paris set sail for the land of Sparta where Menelaus was king and lived with his beautiful queen Helen. Menelaus welcomed the famous prince into his palace, and while the two sat talking about the affairs of the world, Queen Helen came down from her perfumed room, looking as lovely as a goddess. The maid-servants brought her a seat and covered it with a soft lambswool rug, and she sat before her silver work box. But before she began to embroider, she glanced over at the visiting Prince, and questioned her husband:

“Shall I guess the name of this Prince who has come to visit us? Let us see if I am right or wrong? I have heard tell of a prince from far-off Troy who is famous the world over for his looks and fashionable style. Is it he, Paris, Prince of Troy who has come to stay with us?”

“My dear wife,” said Menelaus, “As always, you are quite right. It is indeed, Paris, Prince of Troy who is paying us the honour of his visit.”

And Paris acknowledged Queen Helen with a nod of his head.

At dinner that night, Helen added a special potion into the wine, so that anyone who drank it would forget all his cares, and be happy for the rest of the evening. They feasted and made merry and while Menelaus was busy laughing and joking with one of his generals, Paris spoke softly to Helen.

“Most beautiful queen,” he said, “I beg you, meet me tonight in the orchard beneath the palace walls and we shall sail away together in my ship, and head directly for Troy the most magnificent city in all the world.”

And because the goddess of love, Aphrodite, had wished it so, Helen could not help herself, and agreed to his suggestion.

When King Menelaus awoke in the morning, and he discovered that his guest and his wife had run away together, he flew into a rage, kicking the furniture and punching the walls of his chamber. He swore before all the Gods that that his revenge would be truly terrible. And so he went to see his elder brother, King Agamemnon of Argos, and spoke to him as follows:

“My dear brother. The honour of our family has been besmirched by this foreign peacock, this perfumed playboy, this prancing Prince of Troy. Let us gather together all the Kings of Greece and combine our armies into the greatest force that has ever been seen since the dawn of history, and let us sail to the far off city of Troy, and teach Prince Paris some manners.”

But Agamemnon was wise and he knew that it is always a terrible mistake to rush headlong into conflict. He suggested first that they send an ambassador to Troy to request the return of Queen Helen, whom he was sure had been abducted against her will. He knew that Paris’ father, King Priam of Troy was a good man, and he was sure that he would order his son to release her. And so they sent a message to Troy in the name of peace and reconciliation, but Helen did not wish to go home, and Prince Paris refused to return the lovely Queen to her husband, saying that they had been brought together by the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite herself.

And so that meant War. King Agamemnon, the brother of the wronged Menelaus, summoned all the Kings of Greece and prepared a navy of a thousand ships, the greatest military force to ever set sail. And that is the story of how the great war between the Greeks and the Trojans was started by Prince Paris and Queen Helen.

By Storynory