One Hour Guided Reading - Myths And Legends

Myths and Legends are ancient tales of intrigue and fantasy, with an emphasis on the Gods and their battles and challenges in history. In these gently read stories, we escape into a time long past. Rewritten and Performed by English author S D HUDSON
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Transcript

This is S. D. Hudson. Welcome to my story series, Myths and Legends. Are you ready? Then sit back, Relax and listen as I transport you back to another time and another place. Atalanta's Race Once upon a time, On the warm island of Cyprus, In a beautiful garden tended by Venus, The goddess of love, There grew a thick, Ripe apple tree. It had yellow branches and yellow leaves and its apples were glittering gold. It was a most beautiful tree and unusual. And in the days when it gave fruit, A beautiful girl called Atalanta lived nearby. Men had only to see her to fall in love with Atalanta, But she had made a promise to herself never to marry. Every day young men pestered her to change her mind, But she grew so tired of their wishes and declared, I will only marry the man who can race against me and who can win, But anyone who tries and fails must agree to die. Despite such a risk, There were so many men wishing to race Atalanta to win her hand in marriage. But Atalanta could run like the wind. She was so fast, As fast as the winds blew. Each runner tried and tried, But they always came in behind her. Then one day a young man arrived and his name was Hippomenes. He had heard of Atalanta's races, But thought any boy who would throw his life away on such a silly dare must be stupid. But one day when Atalanta streaked past him, Brown and fast as a darting bird, He knew at once he must race for her, Despite what he had thought before. When Atalanta saw Hippomenes, She decided she did not want him to challenge her in a race. He was far too handsome and far too young to die. She almost wanted him to win, But no, She had sworn never to marry. On the day of the race, A crowd gathered, Impatient for the race to begin. But Atalanta kept them waiting. She didn't want Hippomenes to race, And she was fretting about the result. Hippomenes said his prayers. Oh, Venus, He prayed, You plainly made me love this woman, So help me to win her. And Venus heard him. She agreed with Atalanta, Hippomenes was far too young and handsome to die. So Venus picked from the tree in the Cyprus garden, Three golden apples and gave them to him. Now he was ready for the race. Ready, Steady, Go, Cried the starter, And away went Hippomenes as fast as he had ever run. Then Atalanta followed quick as a blink, And soon she took the lead. Seeing her rush ahead of him, Hippomenes threw one golden apple beyond her, Over her head, And it caught the light. Atalanta went to where it lay and picked it up, And Hippomenes sped ahead of her. But Atalanta was so fast she soon caught him up again, And as she passed him, Her hair blowing like the wind, He ran faster than any of the other suitors, But he was just not fast enough. So Hippomenes threw another of the apples. Again Atalanta stopped to pick it up, And again Hippomenes took the lead. But Atalanta was so fast she had time to stop and admire the shiny apples, And still catch him up again. There was nothing for it. Hippomenes must throw the third apple. Would Atalanta be fooled by the trick a third time? She glanced at the two apples in her hand and stopped for the third, And at last Hippomenes took his chance. He dashed past her, His lungs bursting, And threw himself over the winning line. Hooray! He shouted. He had won his bride. And Atalanta, Clutching the three golden apples, Was quite happy to lose the race for the first time, And was extremely happy that such a clever man had won her heart at last. Once upon a time, Near the Aegean Sea, In the island of Crete, There lived a man called Daedalus. He was an engineer and a brilliant inventor, But no one was more aware of how brilliant he was than himself. His pride had often got the better of him, And when the skill of his nephew Talos had come near to rivaling his own, Daedalus pushed him from a rooftop to his death, And as a punishment he was exiled. He took with him into exile his young son Icarus. He idolized his son. To hear him talk, You might think he had invented his son, Not just fathered him. Now on Crete stood a palace with striped pillars and numerous chambers, Courts and halls, And in the greatest of them all sat Minos, The king of Crete. His throne was inlaid with gold and jewels, And he was a mighty king, A son among other kings it was said. He ruled an empire of subject states all around the Aegean Sea, And before him Daedalus came, Bowing low. Welcome Daedalus, Welcome to our court, Said Minos, The king of Crete. Your name is well known to us, And we have heard of your skill. That makes you very welcome here, For now we have a task that only you can achieve. If you complete this task successfully, We will be hospitable to you and your son. Daedalus looked through the glass at the sky above. The sun was so bright, And the sea beautiful, As it licked about its shores, Catching the light and glittering. He longed to live here with his son, And he was grateful to king Minos, For he could easily achieve anything the king asked of him. Yes, I will be happy to work for you, He said. So king Minos rose from his throne and led Daedalus and Icarus to a door set with iron bars. From the room beyond came a warm stench. It smelt like a farmyard. We desire you to build us a stronghold beneath our house, From which nothing, Not anyone or anything can escape, Not even the Minotaur. He showed Daedalus the beast from behind the iron bars. Its hands came to grasp the bars. They were huge. They looked like human hands, But they had hair on them, Curly and black, And each hair was thick and as stiff as wire. Daedalus looked into its red, Furious eyes and was terrified to see the Minotaur's limbs were as hard as wood. Then all of a sudden the Minotaur opened its cavernous mouth and roared at Daedalus, Flinging back his head. Its head looked like that of a huge black bull. Daedalus bowed to the king. Great king, You are great indeed, But you can choose no better architect than I. I will make a prison for this beast and the names of Minos and Daedalus will be remembered for the rest of time. I swear by Apollo, No man or monster will escape from the prison I make. So Daedalus drew up some plans and scratched them out onto tablets of yellow wax. These plans were far too complex for anyone to decipher but himself. Then he set troops of slaves and labourers to work, Enough men to make an army. Deep beneath the palace, With picks and spades and hammers, They gouged out the rocks of Crete. Some hacked at them and smashed them to pieces, And some carried the rubble they left behind away on their backs, Whilst yet others cut pillars out to support the roof. Little by little they tunnelled out a labyrinth, A fine maze with many tunnels and passages. It had so many false turnings and alleyways, A hundred men could have wandered there and died through getting lost. And so in the labyrinth lived the Minotaur. Daedalus, Meanwhile, Lived in the service of the king with his son, And he grew more clever every day. The sun of Minos's favour shone on him more brilliantly the cleverer he got, And nothing seemed to move him from the favour of King Minos. But then one day, The guards came to seize Daedalus and Icarus and dragged them before the king. So, Said King Minos, You boasted that no one could escape your labyrinth, But now the Minotaur is dead. A man has killed our son and understood the maze and sailed away. Now you and your son shall be cast into the maze yourselves, And if you escape from there, You will get no further, I swear to it. As clever as you say you are, You have failed me, And you shall live in the labyrinth for the rest of your days. So Daedalus with Icarus was cast into the prison he had made for the Minotaur, But he took with him a ball of golden thread. It looked in the darkness like an image of the golden sun, And this, This was what he would guide himself to the end of the labyrinth with. He began to unroll it ahead of them, Through the turns and the windings and the confusions of entrances and alleyways, And at last they reached the cave at the heart of the labyrinth, And that was where the corpse of the Minotaur lay rotting on dirty straw. The Minotaur looked not even half as scary as it had when it was alive. There were feathers from birds devoured by it all around him, And Daedalus picked one up and examined it. Hmm, Minos might rule the land of Crete and the sea that surrounds it too, But Icarus, I tell you my son, King Minos does not rule the sky. Icarus did not know what his father meant by this, But he watched as Daedalus lay feathers, One on top of each other in four separate rows, Each diminishing in size from one end to the other. Then from out of his tunic, He brought some wax and needle and a fine strong thread. He began to sew the feathers together with the needle and the thread, And soften the wax to use it to stick the smaller feathers together as one. Icarus watched his father's patient hands. He saw the small feathers as they stuck together in the sticky wax. Sometimes he helped him by holding the feathers or pulling the end of the thread, And at last together they completed the rows upon rows so that they almost looked like a wing. They bent them together and curved them into a shape, And once finished they completed two fine wings, Big enough to carry a man. There was one pair for Daedalus and another for Icarus. They followed their thread on and on through the winding tunnels of the labyrinth until they found a secret entrance. Then all at once there was light. It burst upon them out of the dark. They were almost blinded and had to bury their eyes against it. And then the air rushed at them too, A strong air full of honey and thyme. Now they must escape. But how could they ever escape the island of Crete? They would use their wings. Daedalus fixed the smallest pair of wings to his son Icarus, And he fixed the largest pair to his own arms, Explaining all the while what they had to do. We must use our arms just like the wing bones of a bird, He said. We must make sure the feathers rise and fall gently as a bird would do. But mind Icarus, My son, Don't fly too low and don't fly near the sea, For the feathers when wet will not carry you. But remember, Do not fly too near the sun, For the sun's heat will melt the wax and make the feathers fall away. Icarus listened carefully, But he was impatient to begin flying. So he began to move his arms experimentally, So the air caught the feathers on his wings. Daedalus ran ahead of him along the hillside, And when he had gained some speed, He jumped into the air, Shouting at Icarus to follow him. They flapped their arms with awkward chopping strokes, But they did not soar as they expected to like other birds. They flew awkwardly instead. Daedalus kept close to his son Icarus and instructed him, But he was no more elegant a bird himself. If he wasn't careful, He would lose the knack and fall down just as fast as Icarus would. At one point they even knocked into each other, Their wings entangled and fell hard on the bruising stone. Then Icarus caught up a rhythm and a pattern of flight and swept into the air and away. He laughed with joy and delight, And almost at once Daedalus followed him. They had found the rhythm at last. Their arms were flowing smoothly now up and down, And the feathers took on such life that they did not seem like arms at all. They were birds. They could fly, And as the wind took them up, Up, Up, Higher and higher still, The men on the ground below began to notice them. Farmers stopped what they were doing and looked up into the sky. Washerwomen dropped the clothes they were scrubbing, And fishermen let fall their nets. Who were these strange flying gods, They said to themselves, And Daedalus certainly did feel like a god. He had invented human flight. He was the first man ever to fly. What say you mighty gods, He called out. I have invented wings for a man to fly, And look at my son. Even though he is a boy, He flies like an eagle through the air. And he was right. Icarus had mastered the gift of flight. He skimmed low. He flew high across the shimmer of the sea. Don't forget not to fly too low, Said his father. You don't want to get your feathers wet. So Icarus flew higher and higher still. Daedalus, Meanwhile, Was focusing on his own wings. He didn't realize the danger Icarus was heading towards. Icarus, Meanwhile, Forgot what his father had told him, And he flew as if drawn to the sun like a moth towards a flame. It was beautiful, It was warm, And it was so bright. Then slowly the wax on his wings began to melt. It softened gently at first. Then it dripped a little in slow, Thick drops. And then all at once a feather fell, Drifting, Turning, And floating down towards the sea. Then another followed, Then another, And so on and so on, Until so many feathers had fallen, Icarus started to fall himself. He flapped his arms harder and harder, But there were not enough feathers left to hold the air to keep him in flight. Daedalus looked up and saw his son plunge headlong, Faster than the feathers, Towards the sea. The startled waters closed above his head, And all that remained of Icarus were waxy feathers floating high above him, As he sank down, Down, Down to the seabed below, Never to be seen again. Orpheus and Eurydice There were once a man and wife, So much in love they wanted nothing but each other. Her name was Eurydice, And his was Orpheus. Orpheus was a talented musician. He played a lyre, And he sang such songs that the grass at his feet curled with pleasure. Snarling wild animals purred and waved their tails, The trees swayed towards him, Tilting their leaves like ears, And everybody delighted in the music Orpheus made. But one sad day, A snake came and stung Eurydice, And she gave such a cry of pain, And fell to her knees so quickly, Orpheus caught her in his arms and was devastated. Eurydice! He yelled. What's the matter? But his wife could not answer. His wife was now dead. Orpheus held her body, But her soul was slipping out of his grasp, And as it sang into the dry, Cracked ground, He knew it had seeped down into the underworld. From that point on, Orpheus stopped singing and laid down his lyre. There is no life without Eurydice, He said, And now I must go to the underworld and fetch her back. His friends gasped with horror at such an idea, But Orpheus turned his back on them. He must travel to the underworld, Come what may. He climbed down, Down, Down, Through the valleys, The pits and the tunnels, To the shores of the River Styx, And at the riverbank, Orpheus called out, Ferryman, Ferryman, Come and row me over. My wife has come to the underworld too early, And I must fetch her back home. There was a splash of oars, And true to tale, A black boat appeared out of the darkened mists. Young man, Are you mad? A voice said. No one but the dead may cross this river and enter the underworld. Even if I did row you over, You couldn't get past Serbius, Who guards the gate. As the boat glided across the river, A dark shape loomed up, Then a terrible barking split the air. It was Cerberus, The three-headed guard dog. Orpheus took his lyre onto his lap and began to play. He played a song without words, And the ferryman stopped splashing his oars to listen. And sure enough, Cerberus stopped barking. Instead, He merely whimpered, And when the boat touched shore, Orpheus stepped out of it, Still playing, And so the dog lay silent. The souls of the dead stopped to listen too, And Pluto, The king of the dead, Was fascinated by the sound of the lyre. What's that noise, Wife? He asked his wife Persephone, And she knew at once. It must be Orpheus, The musician. Oh, If he is dead and his spirit how's to keep? We shall have better music here than on earth. Never, Music is forbidden here, Exclaimed Pluto. And at the sight of Orpheus, A man still wearing his earthly body, Pluto jumped up and pointed an angry finger at him. You'll be sorry you dared to sneak down here, Young man. Then Orpheus began to sing. He sang of his wife Eurydice's beauty. He sang of their love, And of the spiteful snake who had bitten her, And of his unbearable loneliness. And when the song finished, Pluto sank back in his throne, His hands over his face, And his tears ran down onto his beard. Every time someone dies, There are people who want them alive again, Said Pluto. But you are the only one who ever made me allow this to happen. Eurydice shall return to the earth. Then Pluto clapped his hands, And feet could be heard running along a long corridor. They were the footsteps of Eurydice, And Orpheus peered through the gloom for a first glimpse of her dear face. Is it, Is it really you? You may see her, Said Pluto, If you can climb back into the sunlight without once turning to look at her face. Then he laughed unkindly. Orpheus went back towards the river Styx without looking. He heard the swish of a woman's robes following him, But he did not look back. He was too scared. He began to play his lyre once more, And sing his song. And again the great dog Cerberus lulled with delight and let him pass, Licking him with its three tongues. But still Orpheus did not look back. Into the rowing boat he stepped, And someone stepped behind him. Then the ferryman rowed the two passengers across the river. Just one last climb remained, And they would be free of the underworld. Then Orpheus would be able to take his wife in his arms again, And laugh about the dreary kingdom of the dead. Not long now, He called. But Eurydice did not reply. Perhaps Pluto had tricked him. Perhaps it was someone else. Or perhaps Eurydice had changed during her time in the underworld. Then just as the first rays of sunlight came into view, Orpheus glanced quickly over his shoulder just to be sure. Oh yes, It was Eurydice. Those eyes, That hair, That sweet mouth calling his name. Orpheus! Then she sank down like a drowning swimmer. Why? She yelled. And the darkness swallowed her up. Eurydice! But Orpheus' wife was gone. He was so broken-hearted, He could never again play cheerful music. But when he touched his lyre, The notes sobbed out of it like tears. Play something jolly, Can't you? Demanded his audience. But Orpheus played the only music he could. And after days upon days of it, The audience was so frustrated, They attacked and killed him. Then the soul of Orpheus rushed out of his body, Eager to reach the gloomy underworld. Let me go down to Eurydice, He cried. Surely I can now that I'm dead. But the gods replied, You shan't go down to the underworld, Orpheus. Your music has given us such pleasure, Your lyre shall be turned into stars and hung up in the night sky. But, Began Orpheus, And you shall live out eternity in that special place reserved for those loved by the gods. And Eurydice shall live there with you. So the two spirits floated hand in hand to the field of eternal happiness to sing and make music forevermore. Persephone and the Pomegranate Seeds A long long time ago, When the weather was always warm and always sunny, And the flowers were always in bloom, And the crops always ready for harvest, The goddess Demeter tended the countryside like a garden. She planted seeds, She watered the green grass, And encouraged the trees to put on first blossom, Then leaves, And then succulent fruit. And whilst Demeter worked so hard, Her little daughter Persephone would play in the green woods of Sicily picking violets until, Having bunched them together in her long soft apron, She walked home hand in hand with her mother at the end of another sunny day, As they talked and sang and laughed together. Meanwhile, Pluto looked on. But although he was a god, He did not live on the top of Mount Olympus in halls of cloud and sunlight, And he did not live on the earth amongst the trees in the field. Pluto ruled over the kingdom of the dead, And he lived under the earth in darkness and in bitter cold. Not one ray of sunshine ever found its way down into those caverns and tunnels, But although it was cold and although it was dark, The thing he hated the most was the loneliness. Pluto had tried to find a wife, But nobody wanted to sacrifice the sunshine, The flowers, Or the glittering sea to live in his dismal kingdom below earth. On this day, He had climbed out to the brim of the underworld and peeped out. The bright light hurt his eyes, But the sight of the pretty women hurt him even more. He saw Persephone as she picked her violets in the Sicilian wood, And he decided she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, And he wanted to make her his wife. But Pluto did not go to Demeter and ask to marry her daughter. He knew Demeter would say no. Instead, He harnessed his black chariot, Thundered out into the sunlight, And lashing his whip, Drove his horses at full tilt towards Persephone. All Sicily shook at his coming, And his wheels felled trees to the right and the left as he raced through the woods. Holding the reins in his teeth, Pluto snatched Persephone by her long hair, And her apron spilled all its violets out onto the ground. Who are you? What do you want with me? Let me go! Help me! Please! Mother! Mother! Help me! Persephone cried. The trees cried too. Come back! Leave her alone! They yelled as their green leaves flushed with red. But Pluto took no notice. He just raced back to the underworld with Persephone in tow. The earth split open as his chariot sped down, Down, Down into the dark, Cold underworld. And he told Persephone, Don't cry. I shall make you my queen. Be happy. I'll give you all the riches of the earth, Gold, Silver, And gems. And you'll have the love of a king. What more could you want? I want to go home, Sobbed Persephone. I want to go back to my mother. When they reached the river Styx, The place that divides the earth from the kingdom of the dead, Persephone cried out, River, River, Help me! I am Persephone. Save me, Please! And the river heard her and knotted itself around the god's legs, Almost tripping him up. But Pluto kicked it aside like a dog. In despair, Persephone slipped off the belt of flowers she had made and threw it into the tumbling water. Take that back to my mother and tell her, She pleaded. Tell her what's happened. The river took her belt and hurried away. And as darkness closed in on all sides, Pluto reached home with his captive wife. Meanwhile, Up on the earth, Demeter went looking for her daughter. Persephone, Darling, Time to go home, She cried, Wondering just where Persephone had got to. But there was no answer. Demeter called out and asked everyone she met. But it was hopeless. Persephone had disappeared. All Demeter's work was forgotten as she searched for her child. Nothing mattered but to find her daughter. The flowers wilted. The crops stopped growing. And as Demeter wept, The trees wept with her, Shedding their leaves in brown and yellow tears. In the days to come, Demeter searched the world over. But at last, She returned to Sicily and sat down in despair by the river. Gazing at the water, She wondered what hope there was left when what should come spinning by on the current but a little cord of flowers. Persephone is in the underworld, Whispered the water. Demeter, I saw her. Pluto has stolen her away to be his queen. Demeter was horrified and ran all the way to Mount Olympus and rattled at the gates of heaven. Zeus, Lord Zeus, Help me. Pluto has stolen away my daughter. Make him give her back. Zeus listened to poor Demeter. You say your daughter was taken by force? Pluto should not have done that. But there again. Oh Zeus, Demeter interrupted him, If I don't get my daughter back how shall I go on decking the earth with flowers and fruit? I only do it out of joy and without Persephone there is no joy. Let the earth wither and die for all I care. Zeus shivered at the thought. The little people on earth would quickly stop paying tribute to the gods if their crops stopped growing and their trees died. It's not up to me, He said gruffly. There are rules, Demeter. If Persephone eats anything while she's in the underworld, She cannot come up to earth. That is the rule. Then what are you waiting for? Said Demeter. Send your messenger this instant. And although Zeus sent Hermes, The fastest flying of all the gods, Demeter sped ahead of him that day, Pulling on his sleeve and begging him to hurry. Meanwhile, Below the earth, Pluto laid in front of Persephone, A delicious feast. He knew if she ate one mouthful, She would stay with him forever. I'm too miserable to eat, Sobbed Persephone. Let me go. Why don't you let me go? It's so dark and gloomy in here. But Pluto did not agree. Now that Persephone was on the throne beside him, It was bright and cheerful. Hosts of ghosts came streaming through the darkness to gaze at his new bride, And Pluto was very happy indeed. But you must eat, My dear, Just try a little something. He held up a dish of limes, An almond cake, A cup of broth, And tempted her to eat. I'd rather die than eat your food, Said Persephone, Even though she was very, Very hungry. Just a little taste, Pluto persisted, Holding up half a pomegranate, All red and juicy and smiling with seeds. He forced open her fingers and sprinkled twelve seeds into her palm. Persephone was so very hungry, For days now she had pined for her mother, Hoping she might find her, But her mother had not come, And she was desperate for something to eat and drink. She lifted the seeds to her lips. Stop! Hermes, Messenger of the gods, Came skimming through the air in his winged sandals. Noble Pluto, Zeus the Almighty commands you to let Persephone go, Or am I too late? He looked at the feast laid out in front of the two thrones. Yes, Yes, You're too late, Crowed Pluto. No, No, What do you mean? Cried Persephone. Six little pomegranate seeds fell from the palm of her hand. Have you eaten any of those? Demanded Hermes, And Persephone burst into tears. She has, She has, Cried Pluto triumphantly. She's mine forever. Only a few, Pleaded Persephone. What difference does it make? Pluto, You're a rascal, Said Hermes. You should have told her. I'm sorry, Persephone. There's a rule, You see. You have accepted Pluto's hospitality and eaten his food. So now, You must stay here forever. And hate you forever, Pluto, Cried Persephone, Because you tricked me. When she said this, Even Pluto turned a little pale. He loved Persephone and wanted her to love him in return. I only stole you away because I was so lonely, He said, Hanging his head. And Hermes felt sorry for them both. Let Zeus decide, He declared. When Zeus heard what had happened, He thought long and hard before making his judgment. Finally, He declared, Because Persephone ate six of the twelve pomegranate seeds, Let her live for six months of every year in the kingdom of the dead. For the other six months, Let her live with her mother on the earth and let no one argue with the judgment of Zeus. And that is why in the summertime, The flowers bloom, The grass is green and the trees wear blossom leaves and fruit. Demeter, You see, Is happy. When she and her daughter walk hand in hand and talk and sing and laugh, The evening primroses open up to see them pass by. But in the autumn, Persephone travels down to the underworld to keep her bargain with Pluto. First, She learned to pity him. Then, She learned to love him. And now the underworld is much brighter and warmer during the six winter months. But up on the earth, Demeter misses her daughter and the trees flush red when she calls Persephone's name. Then they drop their leaves and the flowers wither. The crops stop growing and the earth and the people wait for Persephone to return again when spring comes once more. The Adventures of Odysseus The war was over at last and after ten long years, The soldiers who had fought it could sail home. Among them was Odysseus, King of Ithaca. His men rowed him out to sea on their ship, The Odyssey, Leaving the battlefields far behind them. It was a glorious day and a beautiful boat but there was little room aboard for food and water. Some huge jugs of wine stood in the prow, Though. They had been taken from the defeated enemy. It was delicious wine, Well known for its potency. The first time they tasted it, Odysseus' men fell asleep over their oars. It's a little bit too strong, Odysseus decided. I shouldn't have let them drink so much. And all at once, A storm overtook them and blew them off course to an island goodness knows where. Wake up, Men, Wake up, Odysseus cried. We have arrived at a new island. I'm sure those caves up there must be inhabited. Let's climb up and ask for directions and something to eat. I'm starving. But make sure to leave your swords here and bring a jug of wine. Then they know we are friendly. The first cave they came to was huge and smelled of cheese. But nobody was about. A fire was burning in one corner, So the soldiers sat down and waited. Soon they heard a clatter of hooves on the cliff path. It was the island's shepherd. He was driving his flock home from the fields to the caves. Then all of a sudden, Many sheep entered the cave as big as cows with fleeces like snowdrifts. But although they were big, The shepherd was even bigger still. He made the men look tiny. He was so huge, As big as the wooden horse of Troy, Perhaps. And his hair, His hair hung down like creepers all around his body. He had a single eye in the middle of his forehead and it winked as Odysseus and his men looked at him. Supper! He roared into light, Looking at the men. And Odysseus realized in horror he meant them. He was going to eat them. They tried to get away, But the shepherd rolled a massive boulder across the mouth of the cave before picking up a man in each paw and gobbling them down, Making sure to spit out their belts and their sandals. Sir, We came to you in peace, Cried Odysseus. How dare you eat my men? At this point he was more angry than afraid, For he needed his men to row the boat. I eat what I want, Said the Cyclops. And who are you to be speaking to me that way? Odysseus went to say his name, Then thought better of it. I am called no one, He said, And I demand that you let us go. I was a fool for thinking I should bring a present to someone like you. Present? Said the Cyclops. Where? You have a present for me? Give it to me then, Give it to me. I won't eat you if you give me a present. Odysseus was pleased at himself for having thought so quickly. Then he pulled from behind his back the jug of wine. That will do, He said to himself. The Cyclops was pleased. He chewed off the seal and gulped down the wine all in one go, Then he smacked his lips in delight. Good stuff, Very good stuff, No one. Thank you. So you roll back the boulder then and let us go, Said Odysseus. Oh, I wouldn't say that, Slurred the Cyclops. He was beginning to fall about. The wine was doing its thing. I won't eat you till morning, He said. Towards dawn, The sailors heated the point of the shepherd's crook until it was red-hot in the fire. Then they gave it to Odysseus. Charge, He called and plunged the red-hot point right into the Cyclops' one horrible eye. The Cyclops woke up with a scream and this brought his fellow giants running to help him. What's wrong? What's wrong with you cried the Cyclops, They called from outside the cave. Is there anyone in there with you? No one's in here with me, Groaned the Cyclops. Are you hurt then? They cried. No one has hurt me, Bellowed the Cyclops. Oh, Good, Good, Said the giants and plodded back to their caves. They didn't realise the Cyclops had been talking about Odysseus all along. Perhaps he's had a nightmare, They said to themselves. The Cyclops groped about blindly. You tricked me, He said to Odysseus. But trickery won't save you this time. You and your men will never leave this cave alive. Then he rolled the boulder aside so that the mouth of the cave was open and his sheep could run out to the fields and feed. But the Cyclops himself sat in the doorway, His hands spread, Ready to catch Odysseus and any of his men who dared to try and escape. But Odysseus was quick thinking and told his men to cling on under the huge woolly sheep so that the Cyclops wouldn't feel them. The Cyclops stroked each fleece as it came by him but he did not feel any of the men hanging on underneath. So Odysseus and his crew escaped and as their ship sailed away, Odysseus called. Know this, Cyclops. I, The hero Odysseus, I was the one who blinded you. Remember my name. In fury, The Cyclops picked up boulders and hurled them down onto the ship, Hoping to sink it. And terrified, Odysseus sailed away as fast as he could. But the Cyclops had not finished yet. I am the son of Poseidon the sea god, He said, And I call on my father to destroy you. Deep in the ocean, Poseidon heard his son's voice and his angry storms drove the Odyssey even further off course to a beautiful island carpeted with flowers. There, A house stood on the beach and the crew of the Odyssey ran up to it. A woman welcomed them inside, But for some reason Odysseus hung back. Only after the door was closed did he peep in at the window. Each sailor was brought bread, Honey and wine, And the woman carried a golden wand as she circled the table, Rubbing it across their heads. One by one, The men began to change. Their faces grew whiskery, Their noses grew flat and they dropped the bowls they were given for their hands were changing into bony hooves. Then they rolled out of their chairs onto the ground. They had been turned into pigs. The wicked woman laughed and drove them out of the back door and into her sties where the other pigs squealed miserably. Outside, Odysseus searched among the flowers and he stooped down to pick one particularly tiny white flower. He put it into his mouth and went boldly up to the house. Come in, So happy to see you, Said the woman inside, Her voice as sweet as her face. Then she did the same. She brought Odysseus bread, Honey and wine and he ate the bread and honey and drank the wine. The woman stood behind him and wrapped him with her golden wand. Now get to the stie with the rest of the pigs, She cried, But Odysseus was too quick-witted for her. This flower is proof against magic potions, He said, Showing her the white flower in his mouth. The woman struck him again, But her charms were powerless. Odysseus, She said, She knew his name and that startled him. A fortune-teller once foretold I would be out-tricked by Odysseus, King of Ithaca. That must be you. I lay my magic and my heart at your feet. Just turn those pigs back into my men, Said Odysseus. So the woman ran, Thrust her golden wand into each pig's ear and in moments he had his men back with him again, Shivering on hands and knees. Now will you love me, Said the woman. No, Said Odysseus, My wife Penelope is waiting for me at home. It was one whole year he remained on the island before he went home. But it's such a dangerous voyage, The woman sobbed. You must pass the singing sirens and the whirlpool. I'll tell you what to do so you'll be safe. So she told Odysseus and his men to plug their ears with wax so as not to hear the songs of the sirens. But Odysseus was curious, He wanted to hear those famous singers that everyone had spoken of. He set sail with his men and told them to rope him to the mast. I do not want to plug my ears, He said to himself, I must hear their sweet song. Then as the last knot of the rope was tied some music came floating across the ocean. These sirens aren't hideous at all, Thought Odysseus. This song is beautiful. Untie me men and let me swim over and speak to the sirens. But his men did not hear him. The sirens' singing grew sweeter still and his loveliness almost broke Odysseus' heart. Untie me, He cried. You go on sailing if you like, But I will stay. These ladies are calling me, Let me go. But his men did not hear him. And as the boat sailed away from the island, The singing grew softer. Odysseus spoke to his men. Did you not hear that beautiful song, He said? No, They said, We saw vultures with women's heads perched on a rock and the bones of a thousand dead sailors. Odysseus could not believe it. The woman at the island had told the truth after all. But there was another danger still. The whirlpool. It was a great sucking mouth in the face of the ocean and it lay in the shadow of a cliff. Twice a day it sucked in everything within seven miles and twice a day it spewed out the wreckage. So Odysseus made sure him and his men raced past the whirlpool at the safest time of day to come to no harm at all. But Poseidon's revenge was not over. His son, The Cyclops, Had told him what Odysseus had done. So his storm horses drove the Odyssey back, Back, Back towards the terrible gaping mouth that was the whirlpool. Then the soldiers just had time to say goodbye to each other before their ship slipped in over the glassy rim. For just one moment it hung in mid-air and Odysseus leapt onto the stern, Sprang upwards and caught hold of a little bush growing out of the cliff. Down fell his ship and his men into the raging whirlpool beneath. And for four aching hours Odysseus clung to that bush soaked with spray and deafened by roaring water. Then all at once the tide filled the whirlpool and stilled the water. Broken pieces of Odysseus' ship floated to the surface and he dropped down and clung to a plunk of wood to float way across the sea. For nine more years Odysseus travelled the oceans from island to island until at last he found help and friendship and a ship to carry him home to Ithaca. Theseus and the Minotaur There used to be a great many kings in the world because every city and island had called itself a kingdom. But one king and one island struck fear into all the rest put together. King Minos of Crete so terrified his neighbours they paid him tributes every year just to be left in peace. He had built a palace with a cellar like a maze and he had kept a monster in it called the Minotaur. He fed it on human flesh and the neighbours were terrified that they would be sacrificed if they didn't do what King Minos said. Why do we send tributes to Crete each year? Asked Prince Theseus one day to his father the King of Athens. To keep King Minos from sinking our ships or making war on us said King Aegeus although he did not like to talk about it. And what do we send? Seven men and seven women. As slaves? Asked the boy. Not as slaves? Said the king reluctantly. To feed the Minotaur. To feed the Minotaur? Said his son. How revolting! Never again must we do that father. This year I'll go as one of the fourteen and I will kill this Minotaur and put an end to this ridiculous situation. His father the King of Athens was horrified but nothing he could say would change Prince Theseus's mind and as the tribute ship set sail the King called from the dockside Good luck son, I shall keep watch on the cliff top every day If you succeed, Raise a new white sail but if you fail, Raise this black one. Never fear father, I shall succeed called Prince Theseus The prisoners arrived from Athens and King Minos laughed Who shall be the first into my Minotaur's den? He asked I shall, Said Prince Theseus stepping forwards. I Prince Theseus of Athens son of the king of Athens I claim that honour. You boasting young puppy snarled King Minos. My Minotaur will make short work of you. Guards put this prince into the labyrinth. Behind the throne the king's plain little daughter Ariadne sat listening. She was ashamed of her father's cruelty and hated to see how he fed the horrible beast in the labyrinth. Ariadne became unhappy when she saw brave and handsome Theseus dragged away to feed the monster. Down went Theseus into the dark but he paused. It was a labyrinth and he didn't know which way to go. The guards marched away quickly but somebody was calling his name. It was Ariadne. Prince Theseus take this she cried and dropped down to him a ball of string. Even if you can kill the Minotaur you won't ever find your way back to this entrance unless you use this. Excellent exclaimed Theseus I could marry a girl as clever as you. Then he tied one end to the entrance and went off unwinding the string as he went and forgetting all about the Minotaur but Ariadne did not forget. Theseus felt his way in the dark without the string he would have been hopelessly lost in the maze of winding corridors but he was grateful Ariadne had helped him he would be okay. Then suddenly his fingers brushed against warm wiry hair and the bony curve of a horn the Minotaur bellowed in his ear and flung him through the darkness. It stamped on Theseus with sharp hooves and the string was knocked out of Prince Theseus's hand. He fought back. It was so dark and the monster half man half ball was crushing him between his hairy arms but Theseus took one hold of his horns and twisted them first one way then the other. He struggled he fought heroically and at last the Minotaur gave a gurgling gasp and fell dead. Filled with panic the prince scrabbled around for the ball of string. How will I get out of here? He said to himself. Ah I found it. No that's the Minotaur's ear. Yes yes and sure enough beneath the Minotaur sat the ball of string. Now all he had to do was wind it up and retrace his steps and at the door of the labyrinth there stood Ariadne waiting for him. You're alive you escaped she cried and took him by the hand and hurried him away. Then they freed the other 13 prisoners and ran back to the harbour. You must take me with you or my father will kill me too said Princess Ariadne. Of course said Prince Theseus come aboard and he raised the old black sail with two pulls of his strong arms and all at once they were at sea before anyone even knew they had escaped. Theseus sat with Ariadne on deck in the sunshine and thought about what he had done. His father would be proud. I must change this sail for a white one he thought. Meanwhile Ariadne gazed at him in delight. How wonderful she sighed to be free of my wicked father and to be married to a brave prince. Marry said Theseus turning rather pale and he suddenly realized because Ariadne had saved his life she expected to marry him. He studied her face. Her nose was very thick her eyebrows were too. Hmm he said how wonderful but little did he mean it. On the way home the ship put in at an island for supplies and Theseus sent Ariadne ashore to buy wine and bread. While she was gone he set sail again and hurried away breathing a sigh of relief he had escaped his fate. When I marry he said to himself it will be to a beautiful queen or a goddess but he was in such a hurry to get away he forgot to change the black sail for a white one. The king after watching day after day from the cliff below Athens saw the ship as it sailed into view. The sail was black and he believed his son had been killed and eaten by the minotaur so he threw himself off the high white cliff down down down into the water below. And ever afterwards the sea was called the Aegean Sea after the father of that ungrateful hero Theseus. The end. Thank you for listening. I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did please consider listening to my tales of the new world. Fantasy stories of an anthropomorphic haven high at the top of Mother B Hill.