Pegasus,
the winged horse, was my joy,
my treasure.
Still is, always will be.
Yes, for as long as the stars endure,
I,
Urania,
youngest of the muses,
loved him the most.
Still do,
always will.
Listen,
I'll tell you his story.
Once,
there was a monster named Medusa.
She had snakes instead of hair.
They coiled and hissed around her head.
Her face was so horrendous,
whoever saw it turned to stone.
This was the fate of all brave warriors
who dared to do battle with her.
Then the gods sent Perseus,
a favorite of theirs.
One god lent him sandals with wings so he could
tread on air,
flit to this side and to that,
strike from above,
catch Medusa off her guard.
Perseus swung his sword.
He slashed all the serpents to pieces.
The goddess Athena lent
him her marvelous mirror-like shield to see
Medusa's reflection so he never had to look her
in the face directly.
Athena hovered near him, guided his hand.
Then he gave a mighty blow,
cut Medusa's head clean off her shoulders and out of her blood.
Yes, for wonders can arise any time, anywhere.
A white-winged foal was born.
With quivering nostrils,
he breathed his first breath,
lifted his head and gave his first joyful whinny at being alive.
Athena stood close by and watched him frolic.
Then she held out a glistening bridle of brightest burnished gold.
She had fashioned it with her own skilled hands.
Come, little Pegasus, she coaxed.
Pegasus came to her.
She slipped the bridle over his nose and led
him through the sky toward Mount Helicon,
our home.
It
was a lovely spring morning.
We nine muses were dancing in our favorite mountain meadow,
trying new steps by our sister
Terpsichore,
singing a new melody by our sister Polyhymnia.
We muses,
as you may have heard,
were known for our musical voices,
except me, Urania.
To tell you the truth, I sang badly.
Try as I would, I couldn't carry a tune.
A glow came into the sky.
A wind gust blew a cloud aside.
Suddenly,
there stood Athena in full splendor.
Sisters, hail, she greeted us,
for Zeus was her father as well as ours.
A soft-eyed face peeked from under her robe,
straight at me.
And that instant won my heart.
Athena said,
I bring you Pegasus to be your pet and playmate for a while.
You nine shall be his guardians.
He's so beautiful.
Is he a god, I asked?
No,
a mortal,
though destined for greatness,
said Athena.
Teach him as you would other horses to obey,
to be faithful and true.
Someday I will come for him.
Meantime,
enjoy his company.
Oh, and we did.
We picked him the tastiest grasses.
We found him the sweetest hay.
We danced all our dances in circles around him.
And sometimes he danced right along.
We wove him garlands of mountain flowers.
One evening,
my sisters were singing to him of his future.
You will belong to a hero, sang Melpomene.
You will do battle, gain glory, sang Euterpe.
Serve Zeus above all,
and perhaps someday he'll invite you to Mount Olympus,
Calliope laughed.
So did the others,
for as everyone knew,
only gods and goddesses were welcomed up there.
Pegasus seemed troubled and turned to me.
I took my celestial sphere,
turned it this way and that,
amazed at what I saw.
You'll rise even higher than Olympus,
I foretold.
Urania, hush!
Don't make idle promises.
Have you forgotten what Athena said?
Pegasus is mortal, I hushed.
But I'd seen what I'd seen,
and my sphere had never shown me lies.
That night,
while my sisters all slept soundly,
I slipped out to him.
I saw
you in the heavens,
so be glad.
I threw my arms around his neck.
His eyes shone with
joy.
He knelt down, inviting me to ride.
I climbed onto his back.
I sat snug between his wings,
and he bounded into the sky.
We flew up beyond the clouds.
It was the most glorious night of my life.
Suddenly I saw Olympus looming in the distance.
I grew afraid,
for nobody went there except by Zeus' consent.
Pegasus, we've flown too
far!
Pegasus, turn back!
I lay in his way.
He shattered it with his silver hoof,
and from the place where it had been embedded,
burst a spring, clear as dew.
I
scooped up a handful of its water and drank.
Never had I tasted any liquid like it.
It more than quenched my thirst,
it filled my whole being with wonder.
I wanted to speak my gratitude.
Instead,
a song poured from my lips.
Thanks,
beloved Pegasus,
for this new, this wondrous spring,
flowing forth mellifluous.
O miracle,
O hear me sing!
It was a miracle,
for I sang it clear and true.
I plucked a white anemone that bloomed beside the spring,
and braided it into Pegasus' mane.
Then I fell asleep.
Next morning I awoke,
reached out,
but my hand touched only air.
Pegasus was gone.
I looked for him in my sphere and saw what had happened.
Athena had come while I slept and ridden him away.
My sphere showed me Lycia,
that unhappy kingdom beset by a three-headed monster known as the
Chimera.
It roamed the countryside,
devouring whole fields of crops,
whole herds of sheep
and cattle,
and all mortals that dared come near.
It
was to Lycia that Athena brought Pegasus,
to a forest where the embers of a campfire
glowed.
Beside those embers lay a young man.
His name was Bellerophon.
He was almost still
a boy, but very strong and brave.
He hoped to become the greatest hero in the world,
but did not know yet exactly how.
Athena entered the mind of Bellerophon and filled it with
a dream.
I give you these gifts that you may slay the Chimera,
heal the land, and fulfill your destiny.
Bellerophon woke at dawn,
and there were the gifts of Athena.
Shining armor,
a bridle of burnished gold,
bow and arrow,
and a sharp spear with a clump
of lead at its tip.
And a horse with wings came galloping,
neighing wildly,
just as in
the dream.
Pegasus, called Bellerophon.
He held out the golden bridle,
and Pegasus grew meek.
Let him slip the bridle on
and mount.
Up they soared.
Soon they were flying over ravaged fields,
trampled down forests,
flocks of vultures,
piles of sheep and cattle bones.
And there, suddenly,
lay the dreaded Chimera,
spread in three directions.
Bellerophon trembled,
for even the bravest heroes get afraid.
He gripped tighter to Pegasus and urged him on,
faster.
Pegasus dived down at the beast.
Bellerophon shot arrow upon arrow straight at the lion head.
The lion head awoke,
roared with rage.
The lion head grew still as a final arrow found its mark.
Meantime,
the goat head shot up,
and with its knife-sharp horns,
ripped into Pegasus' leg.
Despite the terrible pain, Pegasus struggled on.
Bellerophon saw no way to slay the fast-moving creature.
Then Bellerophon remembered the dream
and thrust a lead-tipped spear deep into the goat head's mouth,
deep into the monster's entrails.
Those entrails were boiling hot.
They melted the lead.
It spread throughout the monster's body.
Whatever part still lived,
the molten lead quickly killed.
The Chimera breathed its last.
They flew to the palace of the King of Lycia,
who gave them a hero's welcome.
At the feast, held in their honor,
Bellerophon fell in love with the king's daughter,
and she with him.
They married.
Years went by.
The old king died.
Bellerophon and his princess became the new king and queen.
They had children,
and they all lived on in peace and happiness.
For a while, anyway.
Bellerophon grew old and discontent,
hungered after glory.
He still thought about heroes of old,
Perseus and Heracles the greatest,
whom Zeus had raised to Mount Olympus.
Am
I not as great a hero?
asked Bellerophon.
Do I not deserve to rise to Olympus and
feast with Zeus and all the immortals?
Don't boast,
said the queen,
or the gods may get angry with you.
But the idea possessed him more and more.
Let Pegasus be saddled, he ordered.
He took
out his old armor.
It was tight.
He had to squeeze himself in.
Be careful, said the queen.
You are not the young man you once were.
No matter, said Bellerophon.
The gods will soon restore my youth.
Up, Pegasus.
Pegasus flew into the sky.
Higher, shouted Bellerophon.
Higher,
higher.
Pegasus flew over mountain peaks and clouds,
up,
up,
until the air grew thin.
Fly on,
Bellerophon shouted,
to that summit shrouded in clouds.
That summit was Mount Olympus.
We muses were visiting our father Zeus that day.
We saw them approaching.
Zeus looked down from his throne and commanded,
Mortal rider,
mortal horse, turn back.
Pegasus started to turn back,
but Bellerophon shouted,
higher,
and jabbed Pegasus in the side with his spurs,
forcing him to fly on.
Zeus grew angry.
He took a bit of clay,
formed a new little creature,
the gadfly,
and sent it on a task.
The gadfly flew down and plunged his stinger
into the tender place right under Pegasus' tail.
Pegasus bucked, heaved his rider off.
Bellerophon's boasting had earned him his fall.
Still,
we wept to see him hurtling to earth.
Pegasus reeled.
He'd lost his footing.
His wings beat
frantically, but to no avail.
He, too, started falling.
Let him fall, said Athena.
He disobeyed you, father.
No, I cried out.
He couldn't help it.
He had to obey his
rider.
Father, let Pegasus fly on.
Zeus was unmoved.
I
didn't need my sphere to show me where I'd find him.
Where else but the spring.
There he lay,
not moving,
scarcely breathing.
I cooled his head with water from the spring.
Drops touched my lips,
brought forth this plea.
Ruler of the gods on high,
do not let my treasure die.
Forgive him, for he meant no wrong.
Father Zeus,
oh, hear this song.
My
song rose to Olympus.
The gods and goddesses all turned to see where it came from.
Zeus got down off his throne,
followed the sound to its source.
Daughter,
Urania,
since when can you sing so well?
Since I drank from this spring,
a gift from Pegasus.
Taste,
father.
He put the water to his lips and drank.
Ah,
that was good.
I feel inspired.
Let me see,
what
splendor shall I create?
Father,
make Pegasus well again.
Zeus laughed.
I'll do better than that.
From now on, Pegasus shall be my thunder bearer.
Come, daughter,
let us return to Olympus and
show Pegasus his new home.
For many years,
Pegasus gathered thunderbolts from all corners
of the heavens and brought them to Zeus.
I stayed young, we goddesses do,
but Pegasus
grew old.
One day,
I kissed Pegasus,
my flesh and blood Pegasus.
Goodbye.
I'd seen in my
sphere what Zeus meant to do.
There he is,
in a constellation that bears his name.
I can
always see him.
You can too.
Any night the sky is clear.
He shines on.
He always will.