Theseus and the Centaur

Theseus, the hero king of Athens, was famous for his great strength and bravery. But Pirithous, the son of Ixion, one of the most renowned heroes of old, wanted to test him. So he drove away the cattle that belonged to Theseus from Marathon, and when he heard that Theseus was following him with a weapon in hand, he got exactly what he wanted. He did not flee, but turned around to meet him.

When the two heroes came close enough to see each other, each was so filled with admiration for the other's handsome form and bravery that, as if on a signal, both threw down their weapons and hurried toward each other. Pirithous extended his hand to Theseus and proposed that Theseus act as judge to settle the dispute about the cattle: whatever satisfaction Theseus demanded, Pirithous would willingly give.

"The only satisfaction I desire," answered Theseus, "is that you become my friend and comrade in arms instead of my enemy."

Then the two heroes embraced each other and swore eternal friendship.

Soon after, Pirithous chose the Thessalian princess Hippodamia, from the race of the Lapithae, as his bride, and invited Theseus to the wedding. The Lapithae, among whom the ceremony took place, were a famous family of Thessalians, rugged mountaineers, in some ways like wild animals—the first mortals to learn how to ride a horse. But the bride, who had sprung from this race, was not at all like the men of her people. She was of noble form, with a delicate youthful face, so beautiful that all the guests praised Pirithous for his good fortune.

The assembled princes of Thessaly were at the wedding feast, along with the Centaurs, relatives of Pirithous. The Centaurs were half men, the offspring that a cloud, taking the form of the goddess Hera, had borne to Ixion, the father of Pirithous. They were the eternal enemies of the Lapithae. On this occasion, however, and for the sake of the bride, they had forgotten past grudges and come together for the joyful celebration. The noble castle of Pirithous resounded with glad uproar; bridal songs were sung; wine and food abounded. Indeed, there were so many guests that the palace could not hold them all. The Lapithae and Centaurs sat at a special table in a grotto shaded by trees.

For a long time the festivities went on in undisturbed happiness. Then the wine began to stir the heart of the wildest of the Centaurs, Eurytion, and the beauty of the Princess Hippodamia awoke in him the mad desire to rob the bridegroom of his bride. Nobody knew how it came to pass; nobody noticed the beginning of the unthinkable act; but suddenly the guests saw the wild Eurytion lifting Hippodamia from her feet, while she struggled and cried for help. His deed was the signal for the rest of the drunken Centaurs to do the same, and before the strange heroes and the Lapithae could leave their places, every one of the Centaurs had roughly seized one of the Thessalian princesses who served at the court of the king or who had gathered as guests at the wedding.

The castle and the grotto resembled a besieged city; the cry of the women sounded far and wide. Quickly friends and relatives sprang from their places.

"What madness is this, Eurytion," cried Theseus, "to vex Pirithous while I still live, and by so doing arouse the anger of two heroes?" With these words he forced his way through the crowd and tore the stolen bride from the struggling robber.

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Eurytion said nothing, for he could not excuse his deed, but he lifted his hand toward Theseus and gave him a rough blow to the chest. Then Theseus, who had no weapon at hand, seized an iron jug of embossed workmanship that stood nearby and flung it into the face of his opponent with such force that the Centaur fell backward on the ground, and blood and brains oozed from the wound in his head.

"To arms!" the cry arose from all sides. At first beakers, flasks, and bowls flew back and forth. Then one wicked monster grabbed the offerings from the neighboring rooms. Another tore down the lamp that burned over the table, while still another fought with a sacrificial deer that had hung on one side of the grotto. A frightful slaughter followed. Rhoetus, the most wicked of the Centaurs after Eurytion, seized the largest brand from the altar and thrust it into the gaping wound of one of the fallen Lapithae, so that the blood hissed like iron in a furnace. In opposition to him rose Dryas, the bravest of the Lapithae, and seizing a glowing log from the fire, thrust it into the Centaur's neck. The fate of this Centaur atoned for the death of his fallen companion, and Dryas turned to the raging mob and laid five of them low.

Then the spear of the brave hero Pirithous flew forth and pierced a mighty Centaur, Petraeus, just as he was about to uproot a tree to use it as a club. The spear pinned him against the knotted oak. A second, Dictys, fell at the stroke of the Greek hero, and in falling snapped off a mighty ash tree; a third, wishing to avenge him, was crushed by Theseus with an oak club.

The most beautiful and youthful of the Centaurs was Cyllarus. His long hair and beard were golden; his smile was friendly; his neck, shoulders, hands, and breast were as beautiful as if formed by an artist. Even the lower part of his body, the part that resembled a horse, was faultless, pitch-black in color, with legs and tail of lighter dye. He had come to the feast with his wife, the beautiful Centaur Hylonome, who at the table had leaned gracefully against him and even now united with him in the raging fight. He received from an unknown hand a light wound near his heart, and sank dying in the arms of his wife.

Hylonome nursed his dying form, kissed him, and tried to hold back his fleeting breath. When she saw that he was gone, she drew a dagger from her breast and stabbed herself.

For a long time still the fight between the Lapithae and the Centaurs continued, but at last night put an end to the tumult. Then Pirithous remained in undisturbed possession of his bride, and on the following morning Theseus departed, bidding farewell to his friend. The common fight had quickly welded the fresh tie of their brotherhood into an indestructible bond.