her, and when the woman saw that he was a fine strong child, she wept,
and fell at her husband’s feet, and implored him not to expose it. But
he said he could not do otherwise, for Harpagos would send servants to
see if this had been done; he would have to die a disgraceful death
unless he did so. Then she said again: “If I have failed to move thee,
do as follows, so that they may see an exposed child: I have brought
forth a dead child; take it and expose it, but the son of the daughter
of Astyages we will raise as our own child. In this way, thou wilt not
be found a disobedient servant, nor will we fare ill ourselves. Our
stillborn child will be given a kingly burial, and the living child’s
life will be preserved.” The herder did as his wife had begged and
advised him to do. He placed his own dead boy in a basket, dressed him
in all the finery of the other, and exposed him on the most desert
mountain. Three days later he announced to Harpagos that he was now
enabled to show the boy’s cadaver. Harpagos sent his most faithful body
guardians, and ordered the burial of the cattle herder’s son. The other
boy, however, who was known later on as Kyros, was brought up by the
herder’s wife. They did not call him Kyros, but gave him another name.
When the boy was twelve years old the truth was revealed, through the
following accident. He was playing on the road, with other boys of his
own age, in the village where the cattle were kept. The boys played
“King,” and elected the supposed son of the cattle herder.[45] But
he commanded some to build houses, others to carry lances; one he
made the king’s watchman, the other was charged with the bearing of
messages; briefly, each received his appointed task. One of the boy’s
playmates, however, was the son of Artembares, a respected man among
the Medes, and when he did not do as Kyros ordained, the latter made
the other boys seize him. The boys obeyed, and Kyros chastised him with
severe blows. After they let him go, he became furiously angry, as if
he had been treated improperly. He ran into the city and complained to
his father of what Kyros had done to him. He did not mention the name
of Kyros for he was not yet called so, but said the cattle herder’s
son. Artembares went wrathfully with his son to Astyages, complained of
the disgraceful treatment, and spoke thus: “Great king, we suffer such
outrageous treatment from thy servant, the herder’s son,” and he showed
him his own son’s shoulders. When Astyages heard and saw this, he
wished to vindicate the boy for the sake of Artembares, and he sent for
the cattle herder with his son. When both were present, Astyages looked
at Kyros and said: “Thou, a lowly man’s son, hast had the effrontery
to treat so disgracefully the son of a man whom I greatly honor!” But
he made answer: “Lord, he has only received his due. For the boys in
the village, he being among them, were at play, and made me their king,
believing me to be the best adapted thereto. And the other boys did as
they were told, but he was disobedient, and did not mind me at all. For
this he has received his reward. If I have deserved punishment, here I
am at your service.”
When the boy spoke in this way, Astyages knew him at once. For the
features of the face appeared to him as his own, and the answer was
that of a highborn youth; furthermore, it seemed to him that the time
of the exposure agreed with the boy’s age. This smote his heart, and he
remained speechless for a while. Hardly had he regained control over
himself, when he spoke to get rid of Artembares, so as to be able to
question the cattle herder without witnesses. “My dear Artembares,”
he said, “I shall take care that neither thou nor thy son shall have
cause for complaint.” Thus he dismissed Artembares. Kyros, however, was
led into the palace by the servants, on the command of Astyages, and
the cattle herder had to stay behind. When he was all alone with him
Astyages questioned him whence he had obtained the boy, and who had
given the child into his hands. But the herder said that he was his own
son, and that the woman who had borne him was living with him. Astyages
remarked that he was very unwise, to look out for most cruel tortures,
and he beckoned the sword bearers to take hold of him. As he was being
led to torture, the herder confessed the whole story, from beginning to
end, the entire truth, finally beginning to beg and implore forgiveness
and pardon. Meanwhile Astyages was not so incensed against the herder,
who had revealed to him the truth, as against Harpagos; he ordered
the sword bearers to summon him, and when Harpagos stood before him,
Astyages asked him as follows: “My dear Harpagos, in what fashion hast
thou taken the life of my daughter’s son, whom I once delivered over to
thee?” Seeing the cattle herder standing near, Harpagos did not resort
to untruthfulness, for fear that he would be refuted at once, and so he
proceeded to tell the truth. Astyages concealed the anger which he had
aroused in him, and first told him what he had learned from the herder;
then he mentioned that the boy was still living, and that everything
had turned out all right. He said that he had greatly regretted what he
had done to the child, and that his daughter’s reproaches had pierced
his soul. “But as everything has ended so well, send thy son to greet
the newcomer, and then come to eat with me, for I am ready to prepare a
feast in honor of the Gods who have brought all this about.”
When Harpagos heard this, he prostrated himself on the ground before
the king, and praised himself for his error having turned out well,
and for being invited to the king’s table, in commemoration of a happy
event. So he went home, and when he arrived there, he at once sent
off his only son, a boy of about thirteen years, telling him to go to
Astyages, and to do as he was bid. Then Harpagos joyfully told his wife
what had befallen him. But Astyages butchered the son of Harpagos when
he came, cut him to pieces, and roasted the flesh in part; another
portion of the flesh was cooked, and when everything was prepared he
kept it in readiness. When the hour of the meal had come, Harpagos
and the other guests arrived. A table with sheep’s meat was arranged
in front of Astyages and the others, but Harpagos was served with his
own son’s flesh, without the head, and without the choppings of hands
and feet, but with everything else. These parts were kept hidden in a
basket. When Harpagos seemed to have taken his fill, Astyages asked him
if the meat had tasted good to him, and when Harpagos answered that he
had enjoyed it, the servants, who had been ordered to do so, brought
in his own son’s covered head, with the hands and feet, stepped up to
Harpagos, and told him to uncover and take what he desired. Harpagos
did so, uncovered the basket, and saw the remnants of his son. When he
saw this, he did not give way to his horror, but controlled himself.
Astyages then asked him if he knew of what game he had eaten; and he
replied that he knew it very well, and that whatever the king did was
well done. Thus he spoke, took the flesh that remained, and went home
with it, where he probably meant to bury it together.
This was the revenge of Astyages upon Harpagos. Concerning Kyros, he
took counsel, and summoned the same magicians who had explained his
dream, then he asked them how they had at one time interpreted his
vision in a dream. But they said that the boy must become a king, if he
remained alive, and did not die prematurely. Astyages made reply: “The
boy is alive, and is here, and as he was staying in the country, the
boys of the village elected him for their king. But he did everything
like the real kings, for he ordained to himself as the master, sword
bearers, gate keepers, messengers, and everything. How do you mean to
interpret this?” The magicians made reply: “If the boy is alive, and
has been made king without the help of anyone, thou canst be at ease
so far as he is concerned, and be of good cheer, for he will not again
be made a king. Already several prophecies of ours have applied to
insignificant trifles, and what rests upon dreams is apt to be vain.”
Astyages made reply: “Ye sorcerers, I am entirely of your opinion that
the dream has been fulfilled when the boy was king in name, and that
I have nothing more to fear from him. Yet counsel me carefully as to
what is safest for my house and for yourselves.” Then the magicians
said: “Send the boy away, that he may get out of thy sight, send him
to the land of the Persians, to his parents.” When Astyages had heard
this, he was greatly pleased. He sent for Kyros, and said to him: “My
son, I have wronged thee greatly, misled by a deceitful dream, but
thy good fortune has saved thee. Now go cheerfully to the land of
the Persians; I shall give thee safe conduct. There wilt thou find a
very different father, and a very different mother than the herders,
Mithradates and his wife.” Thus spake Astyages, and Kyros was sent
away. When he arrived in the house of Kambyses, his parents received
him with great joy when they learned who he was, for they believed him
to have perished at that time, and they desired to know how he had been
preserved. He told them that he had believed himself to be the son
of the cattle herder, but had learned everything on the way from the
companions whom Astyages had sent with him. He related that the cattle
herder’s wife had saved him, and praised her throughout. The bitch
(Spako) played the principal part in his conversation. The parents took
hold of this name, so that the preservation of the child might appear
still more wonderful, and thus was laid the foundation of the myth that
the exposed Kyros was nursed by a bitch.
Later on, Kyros, on the instigation of Harpagos, stirred up the
Persians against the Medes. War was declared, and Kyros, at the head
of the Persians, conquered the Medes in battle. Astyages was taken a
prisoner alive, but Kyros did not harm him, but kept him with him until
his end. Herodotus’s report concludes with the words: “But from that
time on the Persians and Kyros reigned over Asia. Thus was Kyros born
and raised, and made a king.”
The report of Pompeius Trogus is preserved only in the extract by
Justinus.[46] Astyages had a daughter but no male heir. In his dream he
saw a vine grow forth from her lap, the sprouts of which overshadowed
all Asia. The dream interpreters declared that the vision signified the
magnitude of his grandson, whom his daughter was to bear; but also his
own loss of his dominions. In order to banish this dread, Astyages gave
his daughter in marriage neither to a prominent man, nor to a Mede, so
that his grandson’s mind might not be uplifted by the paternal estate
besides the maternal; but he married her to Kambyses, a middle-class
man from the then unknown people of the Persians. But this was not
enough to banish the fears of Astyages, and he summoned his pregnant
daughter, in order to have her infant destroyed before his eyes. When a
boy had been born, he gave him to Harpagos, his friend and confidant,
to kill him. For fear that the daughter of Astyages would take revenge
upon him for the death of her boy, when she came to reign after her
father’s death, he delivered the boy to the king’s herder for exposure.
At the same time when Kyros was born, a son happened to be born also
to the herder. When his wife learned that the king’s child had been
exposed, she urgently prayed for it to be brought to her, that she
might look at it. Moved by her entreaties, the herder returned to the
woods. There he found a bitch standing beside the child, giving it her
teats, and keeping the beasts and birds away from it. At this aspect he
was filled with the same compassion as the bitch; so that he picked
up the boy and carried him home, the bitch following him in great
distress. When his wife took the boy in her arms, he smiled at her as
if he already knew her; and as he was very strong, and ingratiated
himself with her by his pleasant smile, she voluntarily begged the
herder to (expose her own child instead and)[47] permit her to raise
the boy; be it that she was interested in his welfare, or that she
placed her hopes on him. Thus the two boys had to exchange fates; one
was raised in place of the herder’s child, while the other was exposed
instead of the grandson of the king.
The sequel of this apparently more primitive report agrees essentially
with the relation of Herodotus.
An altogether different version of the Kyros myth is extant in the
report of a contemporary of Herodotus, Ktesias, the original of
which has been lost, but is replaced by a fragment of Nikolaos of
Damaskos.[48] This fragment from Nikolaos summarizes the narrative
of Ktesias, which comprised more than an entire book in his Persian
history. Astyages is said to have been the worthiest king of the
Medes, after Abakes. Under his rule occurred the great transmutation
through which the rulership passed from the Medes to the Persians,
through the following cause: The Medes had a law that a poor man who
went to a rich man for his support, and surrendered himself to him,
had to be fed and clothed and kept like a slave by the rich man, or in
case the latter refused to do so, the poor man was at liberty to go
elsewhere. In this way a boy by name of Kyros, a Mard by birth, came to
the king’s servant who was at the head of the palace sweepers. Kyros
was the son of Atradates, whose poverty made him live as a robber,
and whose wife, Argoste, Kyros’ mother, made her living by tending
the goats. Kyros surrendered himself for the sake of his daily bread,
and helped to clean the palace. As he was diligent, the foreman gave
him better clothing, and advanced him from the outside sweepers to
those who cleaned the interior of the king’s palace, placing him under
their superintendent. This man was severe, however, and often whipped
Kyros. He left him and went to the lamp-lighter, who liked Kyros,
and approached him to the king, by placing him among the royal torch
bearers. As Kyros distinguished himself also in his new position, he
came to Artembares, who was at the head of the cup bearers, and himself
presented the cup to the king. Artembares gladly accepted Kyros, and
bade him pour the wine for the guests at the king’s table. Not long
afterwards, Astyages noticed the dexterity and nimbleness of Kyros’
service, and his graceful presentation of the wine cup, so that he
asked of Artembares whence this youth had come who was so skillful a
cup bearer. “O Lord,” spake he, “this boy is thy slave, of Persian
parentage, from the tribe of the Mards, who has surrendered himself to
me to make a living.” Artembares was old, and once on being attacked
by a fever, he prayed the king to let him stay at home until he had
recovered. “In my stead, the youth whom thou hast praised will pour the
wine, and if he should please thee, the king, as a cup bearer, _I, who
am an eunuch, will adopt him as my son_.” Astyages consented, but the
other confided in many ways in Kyros _as in a son_. Kyros thus stood
at the king’s side, and poured his wine by day and by night, showing
great ability and cleverness. Astyages conferred upon him the income of
Artembares, as if he had been his son, adding many presents, and Kyros
became a great man whose name was heard everywhere.
Astyages had a very noble and beautiful daughter,[49] whom he gave to
the Mede Spitamas, adding all Media as her dowry. Then Kyros sent for
his father and mother, in the land of the Medes, and they rejoiced
in the good fortune of their son, and _his mother told him the dream
which she had at the time that she was bearing him_, while asleep in
the sanctuary as she was tending the goats. _So much water passed away
from her that it became as a large stream, inundating all Asia, and
flowing as far as the sea_. When the father heard this, he ordered the
dream to be placed before the Chaldeans in Babylon. Kyros summoned
the wisest among them, and communicated the dream to him. He declared
that the dream foretold great good fortune to Kyros, and _the highest
dignity in Asia_; but Astyages must not learn of it, “for else he
would disgracefully kill thee, as well as myself the interpreter,”
said the Babylonian. They swore to each other to tell no one of this
great and incomparable vision. _Kyros later on rose to still higher
dignities, created his father a Satrap of Persia, and raised his mother
to the highest rank and possessions among the Persian women._ But when
the Babylonian was killed soon afterwards by Oebares, the confidant
of Kyros, his wife betrayed the fateful dream to the king, when she
learned of Kyros’ expedition to Persia, which he had undertaken in
preparation of the revolt. The king sent his horsemen after Kyros, with
the command to deliver him dead or alive. But Kyros escaped them by a
ruse. Finally a combat took place, terminating in the defeat of the
Medes. Kyros also conquered Egbatana, and here the daughter of Astyages
and her husband Spitamas, with their two sons, were taken prisoners.
But Astyages himself could not be found, for Amytis and Spitamas had
concealed him in the palace, under the rafters of the roof. Kyros then
ordered that Amytis, her husband, and the children should be tortured
until they revealed the hiding place of Astyages, but he came out
voluntarily, that his relatives might not be tortured on his account.
_Kyros commanded the execution of Spitamas_, because he had lied in
affirming to be in ignorance of Astyages’ hiding place; _but Amytis
became the wife of Kyros. He removed the fetters of Astyages_, with
which Oebares had bound him, _honored him as a father_, and made him a
Satrap of the Barkanians.
A great similarity to Herodotus’ version of the Kyros myth is found in
the early history of the Iranese royal hero, Kaikhosrav, as related by
_Firdusi_, in the Sâh-nâme. This myth is most extensively rendered by
Spiegel (Eranische Altertumskunde, I, 581 et seq.). During the warfare
of King Kaikaus of Baktria and Iran, against King Afrâsiâb of Turan,
_Kaikaus fell out with his son, Siâvaksh_, who applied to Afrâsiâb
for protection and assistance. He was kindly received by Afrâsiâb,
who gave him his daughter Feringis to wife, on the persuasion of his
Wesir, Pirân, _although he had received the prophecy that the son to be
born of this union would bring great misfortune upon him_. Garsevaz,
the king’s brother, and a near relative of Siâvaksh, calumniates the
son-in-law, and Afrâsiâb leads an army against him. _Before the birth
of his son, Siâvaksh is warned by a dream, which foretold destruction
and death to himself, but royalty to his offspring._ He therefore flies
from Afrâsiâb, but is taken prisoner and killed, on the command of the
Sâh. His wife, who is pregnant, is saved by Pirân from the hands of the
murderers. On condition of announcing at once the delivery of Feringis
to the king, Pirân is granted permission to keep her in his house. The
shade of the murdered Siâvaksh once comes to him in a dream, and tells
him that an avenger has been born, and Pirân actually finds in the
room of Feringis a newborn boy, whom he names Kaikhosrav. Afrâsiâb no
longer insisted upon the killing of the boy, but he ordered Pirân _to
surrender the child with a nurse to the herders, who were to raise him
in ignorance of his origin_. But his royal descent is promptly revealed
in his courage and his demeanor; and as Pirân takes the boy back into
his home, Afrâsiâb becomes distrustful, and orders the boy to be led
before him. Instructed by Pirân, Kaikhosvrav plays the fool,[50] and
reassured as to his harmlessness, the Sâh dismisses him to his mother,
Feringis. Finally, Kaikhosvrav is crowned as king by his grandfather,
Kaikaus. After prolonged, complicated, and tedious combats, Afrâsiâb is
at last taken prisoner, with divine assistance. Kaikhosvrav strikes his
head off, and also causes Garsivaz to be decapitated.
A certain resemblance, although more remote, to the preceding saga,
is presented by the Iranese myth of Feridun, as told by Firdusi in
his “Persian Hero-Myths” (translated by Schack). _Zohâk,[51] the king
of Iran, once sees in a dream three men of royal tribe._ Two of them
are bent with age, but between them is a _younger man_ who holds a
club, with a bull’s head, in his right hand; this man steps up to him,
and _fells him with his club to the ground_. The dream interpreters
declared to the king that the young hero who will dethrone him is
Feridun, a scion of the tribe of Dschemschid. Zohâk at once sets out
to look for the tracks of his dreaded enemy. Feridun is the son of
Abtin, a grandson of Dschemschid. His father hides from the pursuit
of the tyrant, but he is seized and killed. Feridun himself, a boy of
tender age, _is saved by his mother Firânek, who escapes with him and
entrusts him to the care of the guardian of a distant forest. Here he
is suckled by the cow Purmâje._ For three years he remains in this
place, but then his mother no longer believes him safe, and she carries
him to a hermit on the mountain Alburs. Soon afterwards Zohâk comes to
the forest, and kills the guardian as well as the cow.
When Feridun was sixteen years old, he came down from Mount Alburs,
learned of his origin through his mother, and swore to avenge the death
of his father and of his nurse. On the expedition against Zohâk he is
accompanied by his two older brothers, Purmâje and Kayânuseh. He orders
a club to be forged for his use, and ornaments it with the bull’s head,
in memory of his foster mother the cow. With this club he smites Zohâk,
as foretold by the dream.
TRISTAN
The argument of the Feridun story is pursued in the Tristan saga, as
related in the epic poem by Gottfried of Strassburg. This is especially
evident in the prologue of the Tristan-saga, which is repeated later
on in the adventures of the hero himself (duplication). Riwalin, king
in the land of the Parmenians, in an expedition to the court of Marke,
king of Kurnewal and England, had become acquainted with the latter’s
beautiful sister, Blancheflure, and his heart was aflame with love for
her. While assisting Marke in a campaign, Riwalin was mortally wounded
and was carried to Tintajole. Blancheflure, _disguised as a beggar
maid_, hastened to his sick bed, and her devoted love saved the king’s
life. She fled with her lover to his native land (obstacles) and was
there proclaimed as his consort. But Morgan attacked Riwalin’s country,
for the sake of Blancheflure, whom the king entrusted to his _faithful
retainer_ Rual, because she was carrying a child. Rual placed the queen
for safekeeping in the castle of Kaneel. Here _she gave birth to a
son and died, while her husband fell in the battle against Morgan. In
order to protect the king’s offspring from Morgan’s pursuits_, Rual
spread the rumor that the infant had been born dead. The boy was
named Tristan, because he had been conceived and born in sorrow. Under
the care of his _foster-parents_, Tristan grew up, equally straight
in body and mind, until his fourteenth year, when he was kidnapped
by Norwegian merchants, who put him ashore in Kurnewal, because they
feared the wrath of the gods. Here the boy was found by the _soldiers
of King Marke_, who was so well pleased with the brave and handsome
youth that he promptly made him his master of the chase (career), and
held him in great affection. Meanwhile, faithful Rual had set forth
to seek his abducted foster son, whom he found at last in Kurnewal,
where Rual had come begging his way. Rual _revealed Tristan’s descent_
to the king, who was delighted to see in him the son of his beloved
sister, and raised him to the rank of a knight. In order to _avenge his
father_, Tristan proceeded with Rual to Parmenia, vanquished Morgan,
the usurper, and gave the country to Rual as a liege, while he himself
returned to his uncle Marke. (After Chop: Erläuterungen zu Wagner’s
Tristan, Reclam Bibl.)
The actual Tristan saga goes on with a repetition of the principal
themes. In the service of Marke, Tristan kills Morald, the bridegroom
of Isolde, and being wounded unto death, he is saved by Isolde. He
asks her hand in marriage, for his uncle Marke, fulfils the condition
of killing a dragon, and she follows him reluctantly to Kurnewal,
where they travel by ship. On the journey they partake unwittingly
of the disastrous love potion, which binds them together in frenzied
passion. They betray the king, Marke, and on the wedding night Isolde’s
faithful serving maid, Brangäne, represents the queen, and sacrifices
her virginity to the king. Next follows the banishment of Tristan,
his several attempts to regain his beloved, although he had meanwhile
married Isolde Whitehand, who resembled her. At last he is again
wounded unto death, and Isolde arrives too late to save him.[52]