Gyges
from
Book I of the Histories
These
are the researches of Herodotus of Halicarnassus, which he publishes, in
the hope of thereby preserving from decay the remembrance of what men have
done, and of preventing the great and wonderful actions of the Greeks and
the Barbarians from losing their due meed of glory; and withal to put on
record what were their grounds of feuds.
According
to the Persians best informed in history, the Phoenicians began to
quarrel. This people, who had formerly dwelt on the shores of the
Erythraean Sea, having migrated to the Mediterranean and settled in the
parts which they now inhabit, began at once, they say, to adventure on
long voyages, freighting their vessels with the wares of Egypt and
Assyria. They landed at many places on the coast, and among the rest at
Argos, which was then preeminent above all the states included now under
the common name of Hellas. Here they exposed their merchandise, and traded
with the natives for five or six days; at the end of which time, when
almost everything was sold, there came down to the beach a number of
women, and among them the daughter of the king, who was, they say,
agreeing in this with the Greeks, Io, the child of Inachus. The women were
standing by the stern of the ship intent upon their purchases, when the
Phoenicians, with a general shout, rushed upon them. The greater part made
their escape, but some were seized and carried off. Io herself was among
the captives. The Phoenicians put the women on board their vessel, and set
sail for Egypt. Thus did Io pass into Egypt, according to the Persian
story, which differs widely from the Phoenician: and thus commenced,
according to their authors, the series of outrages.
At
a later period, certain Greeks, with whose name they made a landing at
Tyre, on the Phoenician coast, and bore off the king’s daughter, Europe.
In this they only retaliated; but afterwards the Greeks, they say, were
guilty of a second violence. They manned a ship of war, and sailed to Aea,
a city of Colchis, on the river Phasis; from whence, after despatching the
rest of the business on which they had come, they carried off Medea, the
daughter of the king of the land.
The
monarch sent a herald into Greece to demand reparation of the wrong, and
the restitution of his child; but the Greeks made answer that, having
received no reparation of the wrong done them in the seizure of Io the
Argive, they should give none in this instance.
In
the next generation afterwards, according to the same authorities,
Alexander the son of Priam, bearing these events in mind, resolved to
procure himself a wife out of Greece by violence, fully persuaded, that as
the Greeks had not given satisfaction for their outrages, so neither would
he be forced to make any for his.
Accordingly
he made prize of Helen; upon which the Greeks decided that, before
resorting to other measures, they would send envoys to reclaim the
princess and require reparation of the wrong. Their demands were met by a
reference to the violence which had been offered to Medea, and they were
asked with what face they could now require satisfaction, when they had
formerly rejected all demands for either reparation or restitution
addressed to them.
Hitherto
the injuries on either side had been mere acts of common violence; but in
what followed the Persians consider that the Greeks were greatly to blame,
since before any attack had been made on Europe, they led an army into
Asia. Now as for the carrying off of women, it is the deed, they say, of a
rogue: but to make a stir about such as are carried off, argues a man a
fool. Men of sense care nothing for such women, since it is plain that
without their own consent they would never be forced away. The Asiatics,
when the Greeks ran off with their women, never troubled themselves about
the matter; but the Greeks, for the sake of a single Lacadaemonian girl,
collected a vast armament, invaded Asia, and destroyed the kingdom of
Priam. Henceforth they ever looked upon the Greeks as their open enemies.
For Asia, with all the various tribes of barbarians that inhabit it, is
regarded by the Persians as their own; but Europe and the Greek race they
look on as distinct and separate.
Such
is the account which the Persians give of these matters. They trace to the
attack upon Troy their ancient enmity towards the Greeks.
The
Phoenicians, however, as regards Io, vary from the Persian statements.
They deny that they used any violence to remove her into Egypt; she
herself, they say, having formed an intimacy with the captain, while his
vessel lay at Argos, and perceiving herself to be with child, of her own
free will accompanied the Phoenicians on their leaving the shore, to
escape the shame of detection and the reproaches of her parents. Whether
this latter account be true, or whether the matter happened otherwise, I
shall not discuss further.
I
shall proceed at once to point out the person who first within my own
knowledge inflicted injury on the Greeks, after which I shall go forward
with my history, describing equally the greater and the lesser cities. For
the cities which were formerly great have most of them become
insignificant; and such as are at present powerful, were weak in the olden
time. I shall therefore discourse equally of both, convinced that human
happiness never continues long in one stay.
Croesus,
son of Alyattes, by birth a Lydian, was lord of all the nations to the
west of the river Halys. This stream, which separates Syria from
Paphlagonia, runs with a course from south to north, and finally falls
into the Euxine. So far as our knowledge goes, he was the first of the
barbarians who had dealings with the Greeks, forcing some of them to
become his tributaries, and entering into alliance with others. He
conquered the Aeolians, Ionians, and Dorians of Asia, and made a treaty
with the Lacedaemonians. Up to that time all Greeks had been free. For the
Cimmerian attack upon Ionia, which was earlier than Croesus, was not a
conquest of the cities, but only an inroad for plundering.
The
sovereignty of Lydia, which had belonged to the Heraclides, passed into
the family of Croesus, who were called the Mermnadae, in the manner which
I will now relate. There was a certain king of Sardis, Candaules by name,
whom the Greeks called Myrsilus. He was a descendant of Alcaeus, son of
Hercules. The first king of this dynasty was Agron, son of Ninus, grandson
of Belus, and great-grandson of Alcaeus; Candaules, son of Myrsus, was the
last. The kings who reigned before Agron sprang from Lydus, son of Atys,
from whom the people of the land, called previously Meonians, received the
name of Lydians.
The
Heraclides, descended from Hercules and the slave-girl of Jardanus, having
been entrusted by these princes with the management of affairs, obtained
the kingdom by an oracle. Their rule endured for two and twenty
generations of men, a space of five hundred and five years; during the
whole of which period, from Agron to Candaules, the crown descended in the
direct line from father to son.
Now
it happened that this Candaules was in love with his own wife; and not
only so, but thought her the fairest woman in the whole world.
This
fancy had strange consequences. There was in his bodyguard a man whom he
specially favoured, Gyges, the son of Dascylus. All affairs of greatest
moment were entrusted by Candaules to this person, and to him he was wont
to extol the surpassing beauty of his wife.
So
matters went on for a while. At length, one day, Candaules, who was fated
to end ill, thus addressed his follower: “I see thou dost not credit
what I tell thee of my lady’s loveliness; but come now, since men’s
ears are less credulous than their eyes, contrive some means whereby thou
mayst behold her naked.” At this the other loudly exclaimed, saying,
“What most unwise speech is this, master, which thou hast uttered?
Wouldst thou have me behold my mistress when she is naked? Bethink thee
that a woman, with her clothes, puts off her bashfulness. Our fathers, in
time past, distinguished right and wrong plainly enough, and it is our
wisdom to submit to be taught by them. There is an old saying, ’Let each
look on his own.’ I hold thy wife for the fairest of all womankind.
Only, I beseech thee, ask me not to do wickedly.” Gyges thus endeavoured
to decline the king’s proposal, trembling lest some dreadful evil should
befall him through it. But the king replied to him, “Courage, friend;
suspect me not of the design to prove thee by this discourse; nor dread
thy mistress, lest mischief be thee at her hands. Be sure I will so
manage that she shall not even know that thou hast looked upon her. I will
place thee behind the open door of the chamber in which we sleep. When I
enter to go to rest she will follow me. There stands a chair close to the
entrance, on which she will lay her clothes one by one as she takes them
off.
Thou
wilt be able thus at thy leisure to peruse her person. Then, when she is
moving from the chair toward the bed, and her back is turned on thee, be
it thy care that she see thee not as thou passest through the doorway.”
Gyges, unable to escape, could but declare his readiness. Then Candaules,
when bedtime came, led Gyges into his sleeping-chamber, and a moment after
the queen followed. She entered, and laid her garments on the chair, and
Gyges gazed on her. After a while she moved toward the bed, and her back
being then turned, he glided stealthily from the apartment. As he was
passing out, however, she saw him, and instantly divining what had
happened, she neither screamed as her shame impelled her, nor even
appeared to have noticed aught, purposing to take vengeance upon the
husband who had so affronted her. For among the Lydians, and indeed among
the barbarians generally, it is reckoned a deep disgrace, even to a man,
to be seen naked.
No
sound or sign of intelligence escaped her at the time. But in the morning,
as soon as day broke, she hastened to choose from among her retinue such
as she knew to be most faithful to her, and preparing them for what was to
ensue, summoned Gyges into her presence. Now it had often happened before
that the queen had desired to confer with him, and he was accustomed to
come to her at her call. He therefore obeyed the summons, not suspecting
that she knew aught of what had occurred. Then she addressed these words
to him: “Take thy choice, Gyges, of two courses which are open to thee.
Slay Candaules, and thereby become my lord, and obtain the Lydian throne,
or die this moment in his room. So wilt thou not again, obeying all
behests of thy master, behold what is not lawful for thee. It must needs
be that either he perish by whose counsel this thing was done, or thou,
who sawest me naked, and so didst break our usages.” At these words
Gyges stood awhile in mute astonishment; recovering after a time, he
earnestly besought the queen that she would not compel him to so hard a
choice. But finding he implored in vain, and that necessity was indeed
laid on him to kill or to be killed, he made choice of life for himself,
and replied by this inquiry: “If it must be so, and thou compellest me
against my will to put my lord to death, come, let me hear how thou wilt
have me set on him.” “Let him be attacked,” she answered, “on the
spot where I was by him shown naked to you, and let the assault be made
when he is asleep.” All was then prepared for the attack, and when night
fell, Gyges, seeing that he had no retreat or escape, but must absolutely
either slay Candaules, or himself be slain, followed his mistress into the
sleeping-room. She placed a dagger in his hand and hid him carefully
behind the self-same door. Then Gyges, when the king was fallen asleep,
entered privily into the chamber and struck him dead.
Thus
did the wife and kingdom of Candaules pass into the possession of Gyges,
of whom Archilochus the Parian, who lived about the same time, made
mention in a poem written in iambic trimeter verse.
Gyges
was afterwards confirmed in the possession of the throne by an answer of
the Delphic oracle. Enraged at the murder of their king, the people flew
to arms, but after a while the partisans of Gyges came to terms with them,
and it was agreed that if the Delphic oracle declared him king of the
Lydians, he should reign; if otherwise, he should yield the throne to the
Heraclides. As the oracle was given in his favour he became king. The
Pythoness, however, added that, in the fifth generation from Gyges,
vengeance should come for the Heraclides; a prophecy of which neither the
Lydians nor their princes took any account till it was fulfilled. Such was
the way in which the Mermnadae deposed the Heraclides, and themselves
obtained the sovereignty.
When
Gyges was established on the throne, he sent no small presents to Delphi,
as his many silver offerings at the Delphic shrine testify. Besides this
silver he gave a vast number of vessels of gold, among which the most
worthy of mention are the goblets, six in number, and weighing altogether
thirty talents, which stand in the Corinthian treasury, dedicated by him.
I call it the Corinthian treasury, though in strictness of speech it is
the treasury not of the whole Corinthian people, but of Cypselus, son of
Eetion. Excepting Midas, son of Gordias, king of Phrygia, Gyges was the
first of the barbarians whom we know to have sent offerings to Delphi.
Midas dedicated the royal throne whereon he was accustomed to sit and
administer justice, an object well worth looking at. It lies in the same
place as the goblets presented by Gyges. The Delphians call the whole of
the silver and the gold which Gyges dedicated, after the name of the
donor, Gygian.
As
soon as Gyges was king he made an in-road on Miletus and Smyrna, and took
the city of Colophon. Afterwards, however, though he reigned eight and
thirty years, he did not perform a single noble exploit. I shall therefore
make no further mention of him, but pass on to his son and successor in
the kingdom, Ardys.
Ardys
took Priene and made war upon Miletus. In his reign the Cimmerians, driven
from their homes by the nomads of Scythia, entered Asia and captured
Sardis, all but the citadel. He reigned forty-nine years, and was
succeeded by his son, Sadyattes, who reigned twelve years. At his death
his son Alyattes mounted the throne.
This
prince waged war with the Medes under Cyaxares, the grandson of Deioces,
drove the Cimmerians out of Asia, conquered Smyrna, the Colophonian
colony, and invaded Clazomenae. From this last contest he did not come off
as he could have wished, but met with a sore defeat; still, however, in
the course of his reign, he performed other actions very worthy of note,
of which I will now proceed to give an account.
Inheriting
from his father a war with the Milesians, he pressed the siege against the
city by attacking it in the following manner.
When
the harvest was ripe on the ground he marched his army into Milesia to the
sound of pipes and harps, and flutes masculine and feminine. The buildings
that were scattered over the country he neither pulled down nor burnt, nor
did he even tear away the doors, but left them standing as they were. He
cut down, however, and utterly destroyed all the trees and all the corn
throughout the land, and then returned to his own dominions. It was idle
for his army to sit down before the place, as the Milesians were masters
of the sea. The reason that he did not demolish their buildings was that
the inhabitants might be tempted to use them as homesteads from which to
go forth to sow and till their lands; and so each time that he invaded the
country he might find something to plunder.
In
this way he carried on the war with the Milesians for eleven years, in the
course of which he inflicted on them two terrible blows; one in their own
country in the district of Limeneium, the other in the plain of the
Maeander. During six of these eleven years, Sadyattes, the son of Ardys
who first lighted the flames of this war, was king of Lydia, and made the
incursions. Only the five following years belong to the reign of Alyattes,
son of Sadyattes, who (as I said before) inheriting the war from his
father, applied himself to it unremittingly. The Milesians throughout the
contest received no help at all from any of the Ionians, excepting those
of Chios, who lent them troops in requital of a like service rendered them
in former times, the Milesians having fought on the side of the Chians
during the whole of the war between them and the people of Erythrae.
It
was in the twelfth year of the war that the following mischance occurred
from the firing of the harvest-fields. Scarcely had the corn been set
alight by the soldiers when a violent wind carried the flames against the
temple of Minerva Assesia, which caught fire and was burnt to the ground.
At the time no one made any account of the circumstance; but afterwards,
on the return of the army to Sardis, Alyattes fell sick. His illness
continued, whereupon, either advised thereto by some friend, or perchance
himself conceiving the idea, he sent messengers to Delphi to inquire of
the god concerning his malady.
On
their arrival the Pythoness declared that no answer should be given them
until they had rebuilt the temple of Minerva, burnt by the Lydians at
Assesus in Milesia.
Thus
much I know from information given me by the Delphians; the remainder of
the story the Milesians add.
The
answer made by the oracle came to the ears of Periander, son of Cypselus,
who was a very close friend to Thrasybulus, tyrant of Miletus at that
period. He instantly despatched a messenger to report the oracle to him,
in order that Thrasybulus, forewarned of its tenor, might the better adapt
his measures to the posture of affairs.
Alyattes,
the moment that the words of the oracle were reported to him, sent a
herald to Miletus in hopes of concluding a truce with Thrasybulus and the
Milesians for such a time as was needed to rebuild the temple. The herald
went upon his way; but meantime Thrasybulus had been apprised of
everything; and conjecturing what Alyattes would do, he contrived this
artifice. He had all the corn that was in the city, whether belonging to
himself or to private persons, brought into the market-place, and issued
an order that the Milesians should hold themselves in readiness, and, when
he gave the signal, should, one and all, fall to drinking and revelry.
The
purpose for which he gave these orders was the following. He hoped that
the Sardian herald, seeing so great store of corn upon the ground, and all
the city given up to festivity, would inform Alyattes of it, which fell
out as he anticipated. The herald observed the whole, and when he had
delivered his message, went back to Sardis. This circumstance alone, as I
gather, brought about the peace which ensued. Alyattes, who had hoped that
there was now a great scarcity of corn in Miletus, and that the people
were worn down to the last pitch of suffering, when he heard from the
herald on his return from Miletus tidings so contrary to those he had
expected, made a treaty with the enemy by which the two nations became
close friends and allies. He then built at Assesus two temples to Minerva
instead of one, and shortly after recovered from his malady. Such were the
chief circumstances of the war which Alyattes waged with Thrasybulus and
the Milesians.
This
Periander, who apprised Thrasybulus of the oracle, was son of Cypselus,
and tyrant of Corinth. In his time a very wonderful thing is said to have
happened. The Corinthians and the Lesbians agree in their account of the
matter. They relate that Arion of Methymna, who as a player on the harp,
was second to no man living at that time, and who was, so far as we know,
the first to invent the dithyrambic measure, to give it its name, and to
recite in it at Corinth, was carried to Taenarum on the back of a dolphin.
He
had lived for many years at the court of Periander, when a longing came
upon him to sail across to Italy and Sicily. Having made rich profits in
those parts, he wanted to recross the seas to Corinth. He therefore hired
a vessel, the crew of which were Corinthians, thinking that there was no
people in whom he could more safely confide; and, going on board, he set
sail from Tarentum. The sailors, however, when they reached the open sea,
formed a plot to throw him overboard and seize upon his riches.
Discovering their design, he fell on his knees, beseeching them to spare
his life, and making them welcome to his money. But they refused; and
required him either to kill himself outright, if he wished for a grave on
the dry land, or without loss of time to leap overboard into the sea. In
this strait Arion begged them, since such was their pleasure, to allow him
to mount upon the quarter-deck, dressed in his full costume, and there to
play and sing, and promising that, as soon as his song was ended, he would
destroy himself. Delighted at the prospect of hearing the very best harper
in the world, they consented, and withdrew from the stern to the middle of
the vessel: while Arion dressed himself in the full costume of his
calling, took his harp, and standing on the quarter-deck, chanted the
Orthian. His strain ended, he flung himself, fully attired as he was,
headlong into the sea.
The
Corinthians then sailed on to Corinth. As for Arion, a dolphin, they say,
took him upon his back and carried him to Taenarum, where he went ashore,
and thence proceeded to Corinth in his musician’s dress, and told all
that had happened to him. Periander, however, disbelieved the story, and
put Arion in ward, to prevent his leaving Corinth, while he watched
anxiously for the return of the mariners. On their arrival he summoned
them before him and asked them if they could give him any tiding of Arion.
They returned for answer that he was alive and in good health in Italy,
and that they had left him at Tarentum, where he was doing well. Thereupon
Arion appeared before them, just as he was when he jumped from the vessel:
the men, astonished and detected in falsehood, could no longer deny their
guilt. Such is the account which the Corinthians and Lesbians give; and
there is to this day at Taenarum, an offering of Arion’s at the shrine,
which is a small figure in bronze, representing a man seated upon a
dolphin.
Having
brought the war with the Milesians to a close, and reigned over the land
of Lydia for fifty-seven years, Alyattes died.
He
was the second prince of his house who made offerings at Delphi.
His
gifts, which he sent on recovering from his sickness, were a great bowl of
pure silver, with a salver in steel curiously inlaid, a work among all the
offerings at Delphi the best worth looking at.
Glaucus,
the Chian, made it, the man who first invented the art of inlaying steel.
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