"You shall lie with me girl, or else-" "Unhand me, wretch,"
she sobbed. "I'd rather die first—and anyway, I don't like men with beards," or words to that effect.'
Stephanie laughed. That's better, Robbie. Now you are getting into your old form.'
'Well, there is was. She was set on death rather than dishonour, and he seems to have got cold feet. He didn't like to kill her but he became scared that when he got her back to his palace, she would spill the beans to her sister about the pass he had made, and Procne was the sort of wife who might have hit him over the head with a rolling pin. To prevent Philomela telling on him, he did an awful thing. He cut out the poor girl's tongue.'
'Oh, Robbie, how ghastly!'
'Yes, wasn't it? And not really very clever, either; because be couldn't take her home with him after that, so he imprisoned her in a house in the woods and gave out that she had died en route. But Philomela still had a kick left in her. After she had been behind bars for some while, she secured permission to pass away the time by doing a bit of tatting. Her gaoler got her some white and purple wool. With that, she wove a tapestry illustrating Tereus's ungentlemanly behaviour and persuaded her gaoler to take it to the Queen.
'As soon as old Tereus had gone off to look at the rabbit snares, or whatever he did in the mornings, Procne bustled off into the woods, released Philomela from her prison and took her along to the palace. It so happened that, just as they were crossing the courtyard, Procne's son, Itys, came along whistling a bit out of tune and swinging his lesson books. It chanced, too, that this unlucky youngster had grown up the "spit 'n' image" of his father. The sight of this likeness sent Procne right off her rocker. She snatched up a bread knife and jabbed it into her own son's throat.'
Stephanie closed her eyes. 'Really, the things these people did.'
'Oh, that wasn't all. These two beauties fell on the boy, tore him limb from limb between them and put the bits in a pot. Then, when Tereus came home, his wife served him up their son for lunch. Procne stood by while Tereus had a great "tuck-in". After he had belched a bit, he asked her: "Was that delicious dish, grouse en casserole or partridge Strogonoff done with truffles?"
4 "No," she told him. "It was a hash of Itys." Then, just so that he should not think that she was joking, Philomela popped out at that moment from behind a curtain and threw his son's head on the table.
'Tereus had a very soft spot for his only son; so, naturally, he took umbrage at having been led into eating a good part of him. Snatching up his trusty blade, he chivvied the two women out of the house and into the woods. But evidently the gods felt that he was most to blame for having started the trouble; so they saved Procne and Philomela by turning them into a swallow and a nightingale.'
'What a revolting story. And, anyway, what has all this to do with Theseus?'
'Only that these two charming ladies were his aunts, which goes to show that even the girls in the family he came from were not the type to take things lying down. His father, King Aegeus, didn't behave exactly according to "Cocker" either. He had been married twice, but he'd had no luck in getting a son by either wife. However, he evidently believed in the old Robert the Bruce stuff of "If at first you don't succeed . . ."
'When on a visit to Pittheus, King of Troezen, his roving eye settled on the King's daughter, Aethra, who was then a pretty little piece of fifteen. That night, he gumshoed along to her room and told her about the facts of life. He concluded the lesson by saying: "Now, my dear, there's just a chance that you may have a beautiful little baby all of your own. If it's a girl you can have her for keeps, and if it's a weedy, sickly boy I don't want to be bothered about him either. But, just on the chance that he is worthy io bear my name, I'm going to bury my sword and sandals tomorrow under a heavy rock. If, when he is sixteen, he is strong enough to lift it and bring them to me in Athens, I'll make him my heir." Then he patted her on the head and told her not to let on to anyone that kind 'uncle' Aegeus had been along to see her and given up most of his night's sleep to tell her all those interesting things.
'Aethra must have been quite a smart kid because, when people began to notice that her dresses were becoming a bit tight round the middle, she said that Poseidon had been to see her in a dream. Maybe he had, since with his helmet of invisibility he could get up to all sorts of larks without the bother that Zeus had to go to of turning himself into a bull or swan or something. Anyhow, when her baby was born, Poseidon behaved like a good sport and acted as Theseus's protector all through his life.
Theseus, of course, turned out to be a boy wonder and modelled himself on Hercules, who was a friend of the family and came to stay. As a child, Theseus even attacked with his toy sword the skin of the Nemean lion, believing it to be a live animal. Hercules usually wore it, but on this occasion had left it lying about in the garden. Then, when Theseus was sixteen, his mother came clean with him about his birth; so he heaved up the rock, recovered the sword and sandals his father had left there, and went off with them to Athens.
'On the way, he spoilt the fun of all sorts of people. First he killed Periphetes, a terrible bandit who wielded a club as large as himself. Next he met a character called Sinis, who invented the game that the pirates of the Spanish Main used to play hundreds of years later. It was to bend two pine saplings inward, tie the ankles of a captive to their tops; then, having made a book on which tree would tear off the biggest piece of the victim, let them spring back. Theseus, of course, treated Sinis to his own medicine.
'A giant named Sceiron was the next unlucky person to fall in with our Hero. He kept an enormous turtle and, instead of buying food for it at the local pet shop, h.5 used to force travellers to wash his feet then, when they knelt down in front of him, he kicked them over a cliff so that they fell into the turtle's pool. The day he met Theseus, the turtle got an extra large dinner.
'Soon afterwards, Theseus came upon another giant, one Procrustes, who had a rather warped sense of humour. He invited anyone who came along to spend the night. In his guest room there were two beds, one very long and one very short. If the guest chose the long bed, Procrustes tied his wrists and ankles to cords, then used a rack to stretch him to fit it; if he chose the short one, he cut off the bits that overlapped. Theseus, of course, put paid to him too, then gaily went on his way, killing off all sorts of monsters, until at last he reached Athens.
'There he found things in a pretty pickle. King Aegeus had gone a bit soft in the head; so he was being pushed around by his two nephews, the Pallantids. Still worse, he had taken as his wife the witch Medea. You'll remember she was the sweetie-pie that Jason brought back with the Golden Fleece, but who had left him after boiling his uncle in a cauldron under the pretext of giving him a beauty treatment.
'Being gifted with psychic powers, Medea tumbled to it at once that Theseus was the heir to the throne and would do her no good; so she spun her old man a yarn that her familiar spirit had told her this brash young stranger meant to do him in. Aegeus, being under her thumb, fell for this and agreed that she should give Theseus a cup of poisoned wine. But, just at the moment she was saying to Theseus: "Here you are, Big Boy, knock this back and I'll get you another," he produced his father's sword from out of his hiker's pack. Recognizing it at once, his papa knocked the drink out of his hand and, as usual in such cases, a dog which was handy lapped it up, then threw seven fits and went rigid. Seeing the game was up, Medea gnashed her false teeth in rage, snatched up her broom and flew off out of the window.
Theseus sorted out his uppish cousins, the Pallantids, in no time at all and, as his old Pop was more or less gaga, virtually took over the kingdom. But, after a year or two, the Minoan tribute became due. Twenty-nine years earlier King Minos's son, Androgeos, had been bumped off by some Athenian athletes who were jealous because he had won so many prizes at their Games. Minos then arrived on the scene with his two-Power Navy to avenge his son, and had consented to spare the city only if every nine years the Athenians antied up their seven most likely lads and their seven most come-hither virgins for his Minotaur to chase round the Labyrinth. For the third time, the Minoan galleys turned up to carry this nice little cargo off to Crete.