Argos
Prince of Corinth, Bellerophon,
Considered the mission he was on,
On the way to Argos, to petition the king,
One had to consider the correct ring,
To give, when asking for the freedom,
Of the people of the kingdom,
Especially when it was the king who had given the judgement,
In favour of greater enslavement,
The chance of rebellion was the thing,
To prove the peoples' unhappiness, to the king.
The Corinthians hoped to make an impression,
With the beauty of young Bellerophon,
The prince was not so confident that the plan would work,
But the duty had been placed on him, and he would not shirk,
Bellerophon felt this was all too shallow,
Frightened that he himself would be laid fallow,
He did not consider himself vain,
When it was over, he would not do it again,
Argos came into view,
Towers and walls against the sky so blue.
King Proetus sat grandly in his hall,
On the throne beside queen Stheneboa, beauty to all,
Prince Bellerophon made his supplication,
He adjusted himself, unsure of his station,
Proetus frowned, eyes like gashes,
Stheneboa regarded the prince hotly through lashes,
'We shall think on this,' said the king from the throne,
'In the mean time, make yourself at home,'
Bellerophon left the hall,
Had he made any impression at all?
Bellerophon, in his corner sat back,
He kept away from the king's men, and they gave him no flack,
But then a maid approached, saying he was granted audience to the queen,
His hope was aroused, the queen had to be seen,
'You are a very beautiful man,'
Said queen Stheneboa, stroking his hand,
In her apartments the prince felt too warm,
This audience was nothing to do with the mission he was on,
'You will have me,' said Stheneboa flat,
'Nothing will be said, and that will be that,'
Bellerophon, his condition growing,
Told her that he could do no such thing knowing,
That he was asking her great husband for favours,
He ended it lying, said he did not crave her.
Bellerophon saw the king again the next day,
Proetus was scowling and Stheneboa was away,
'You must go to my uncle Iobates in the country,
He will decide your argument' Proetus did decree,
'You must take him this letter, but keep it sealed,
Only after you get to him will your destiny be revealed,'
Bellerophon sloped off, pondering on the meaning,
Of what had happened, whether there was scheming,
There seemed to be nothing to do but as he was told,
He made his way to the house of Iobates, further down the road.
The prince told the old man that he had come fom the king,
Iobates was gracious and most welcoming,
It was a pleasant change of attitude from the one at the palace,
The atmosphere relaxing, the uncle had a kindly face,
The two discussed Bellerophon's late petition and Iobates health,
Iobates argued that enslavement increased everybody's wealth,
'But you are right that the people seek recompense,'
He sensed, 'for their lack of independence,'
Bellerophon delivered the letter into Iobates hands,
Spent the day with Philanoe wandering around the land.
Philanoe was Iobates' daughter,
As calm and beautiful as the sky,
He had it in mind to court her,
With her he felt a high,
What she was feeling he did not know,
Dark hair, blue eyes,she had knowledge that did show,
How would he see her again?
It would be back to Corinth after this strange game,
He knew he could find a way,
What would his father in Corinth say?
Bellerophon slept well in Iobates' home,
But in the morning happiness had gone,
Iobates had a stern and troubled frown,
Perhaps it was the letter that had brought him down?
Iobates stated grimly: 'New facts have arisen,
To get what you desire you must go on a mission,
You must kill the monster that lives over the hill,
I suggest you take today to prepare, but do as you will,'
Bellerophon was confused,
Why had Proetus not told him this news?
That night the prince did not sleep well,
Was it a dream or reality? He could not tell,
A wise and beautiful woman gave him a golden bridle,
He captured a glorious winged horse to ride on,
He flew over a monster, showered it with lumps of lead,
When he woke up the dream-monster was dead,
At morning-time, he asked prince Iobates for a horse,
The man sighed and said: 'the best of course,
He's a clean white stallion called Pegasus,
He's strong, he almost flies ahead,'
Bellerophon searched the hills for lead.
Although Pegasus stayed upon the ground,
Riding at speed did astound,
So smooth, so fast and forceful,
It was almost as if they flew!
They searched for that monster over the hill,
As night came on they were searching still,
But then Bellerophon spotted it loping back to a hole,
Bellerophon used his head to reherse his role.
Looking down from that mighty white horse into that dark place,
Bellerophon shouted to the monster to show its face,
Something roared and gibbered and glared,
But to emerge from the hole it would not dare,
Shouted the nervous Bellerophon:
'Monster! You are hated, hated to the bone!
But I have the answer that will let you alone!'
'Whaaaat?' cried the thing,
'Shilly tales yo bling!'
'I'm telling you,' replied the prince,
'That this magic powder has worked since times since,
My own great-grandmother who had the way,
Of knowledge and magic that lasts to this day!'
Could this possibly work? The dream woman knew,
But now his plan seemed of unlikely value,
But the thing, ugly, dirty and deformed,
Glanced out again to be informed,
Of who this stranger may be,
'Wadot yodot disfloor me?'
'I do this for the grace of all concerned,'
Lied the prince, 'the gods have decreed it is something you have earned,'
The last statement might have been more honest,
Bellerophon was becoming frightened, but he must not be modest.
'Lickle-me sheediss!' the monster growled,
The prince displayed a bag of lead that he'd ground,
His stomach quivered,
As this ape-thing considered,
'Wa dotnut yo goblit?'
Bellerophon dipped and licked his finger in the little sack,
And then serendipitously, he felt the sun on his back,
Rising, it made Pegasus fully glorious,
Light glinted off of his armour in mist amorphous,
'Gaa!' said the monster, awe in its piggy eyes,
'Gimme! Yort butnot betelin lies!'
The monster poured the powdered lead into its maw,
Choking at first, but then having more,
'I'll be off now,' Bellerophon did say,
The monster replied: 'No. Yo shtay!'
Bellerophon waited nervously,
As the monster frowned, guffawed and began to sway,
The hero needed to check that no dust did really linger,
Upon his licked finger,
However, that would give the game away.
The monster suddenly shouted and clutched its stomach,
Bound out of the hole, wobbled, shouted: ‘Kaka Kack!’
Erratically it gibbered, then threw itself at the prince,
Bellerophon was off the horse, the thing did vomit and wince,
The young man drew his sword,
The monster roared!
It charged madly, flailing badly, mouth full of blood,
Bellerophon presented his sword to its stomach, it died as it stood.
Iobates was astounded when the young prince returned,
And Bellerophon was shocked when he learned,
That he should have been killed by the monstrous encounter,
The letter from Proetus had orders to destroy the youngster,
Iobates apologised, claimed Bellerophon as great,
But warned that toying with the queen would lead to a terrible fate,
‘I did not toy with the woman!’ Bellerophon complained,
‘She came on to me bluntly, whatever she claims!’
‘We must plan how to convince Proetus of your petition’ Iobates said,
‘Now you have filled the monster’s stomach with lead.’
That night Bellerophon had another dream,
He flew on a winged Pegasus, too high to be seen,
Above the clouds, white and mountainous below,
Rays of sun, shining, blinding glow,
Thrusting through white scenery, a golden mountain ahead!
This was Olympus, the gods’ homestead!
Onwards to greatness, the dream seemed to say!
Bellerophon was heroic, and would save the day!
Into Argos, gleaming towers and gardens,
Bellerophon would be a hero again!
Fair Philanoe would come to him and be his queen!
The people were already smiling in recognition,
Of the glory of himself and his mission!
Freeing the people would win him adoration,
And the white stone city of Argos would be given,
Over to his command,
The fates had chosen!
Bellerophon and Iobates went to the court of king Proetus,
To the monarch: ‘I can vouch for this man’ said Iobates,
‘He has done nothing untoward and I believe, is touched by greatness,’
‘Speak then ,Bellerophon’ said the king with stress,
‘I am Bellerophon of Corinth, fine,
I am godlike, almost divine!
I demand freedom for the people, in my name,
For it is I who killed the monster, I do proclaim!
Otherwise we will rebel,
And your power will be as a shell!’
Iobates looked at him side-wards, the king did scowl,
The queen sniggered, doom did prowl,
‘Of course I am right, anyone can see,’
That the gods, they live through me!’
That last bit must have convinced, thought Bellerophon,
But sadly, he turned out to be wrong.
In his dungeon, for he did not know how long,
Mouldered prince Bellerophon,
Accused of treason, and courting rebellion,
And legally no longer Corinth’s son,
Kept alive should he be proved of use,
Suffering terrible mental abuse,
The bugs did crawl,
The rats did gnaw,
Scraps were thrown in and devoured,
Months or years through time was ploughed,
Taking the darkness,
Eventually with less stress.
A vision did reoccur,
Himself falling from above the clouds,
Tossed from the winged horse Pegasus,
Down and down towards loneliness,
The golden mountain was never reached,
He fell with bugs and rats into deep,
He asked glorious Pegasus: why?
But the horse was beyond, beyond the sky,
He stood before Proetus with that horse,
Pegasus was greater than Bellerophon, of course,
Despite everything, the king could see,
That the mightiness of Bellerophon was unworthy.
And then at some time, things changed,
Dangerous, powerful rebels and raiders came,
They burnt Argos and let Bellerophon loose,
He ran to the hills, for he could not choose,
Any sort of life after this prolonged crisis,
He hid in the hole, the ground is where life is!
Gibbering and wandering and glaring and night,
Would time bring on a hero he would have to fight?
He hunted sheep and devoured them raw,
Argos recovered, but he became the city’s sore.
Raiders and rebels came and went,
With views on the Argive government,
The new monster attacked if they came near,
Ate some of them, used their gear,
Chaos devoured the kingdom,
Until the advent of Agamemnon,
Who killed the monster over the hill,
Which emerged from its hole and warbled shrill,
This was the act and the loss,
That gave Agamemnon Argos.
Considered the mission he was on,
On the way to Argos, to petition the king,
One had to consider the correct ring,
To give, when asking for the freedom,
Of the people of the kingdom,
Especially when it was the king who had given the judgement,
In favour of greater enslavement,
The chance of rebellion was the thing,
To prove the peoples' unhappiness, to the king.
The Corinthians hoped to make an impression,
With the beauty of young Bellerophon,
The prince was not so confident that the plan would work,
But the duty had been placed on him, and he would not shirk,
Bellerophon felt this was all too shallow,
Frightened that he himself would be laid fallow,
He did not consider himself vain,
When it was over, he would not do it again,
Argos came into view,
Towers and walls against the sky so blue.
King Proetus sat grandly in his hall,
On the throne beside queen Stheneboa, beauty to all,
Prince Bellerophon made his supplication,
He adjusted himself, unsure of his station,
Proetus frowned, eyes like gashes,
Stheneboa regarded the prince hotly through lashes,
'We shall think on this,' said the king from the throne,
'In the mean time, make yourself at home,'
Bellerophon left the hall,
Had he made any impression at all?
Bellerophon, in his corner sat back,
He kept away from the king's men, and they gave him no flack,
But then a maid approached, saying he was granted audience to the queen,
His hope was aroused, the queen had to be seen,
'You are a very beautiful man,'
Said queen Stheneboa, stroking his hand,
In her apartments the prince felt too warm,
This audience was nothing to do with the mission he was on,
'You will have me,' said Stheneboa flat,
'Nothing will be said, and that will be that,'
Bellerophon, his condition growing,
Told her that he could do no such thing knowing,
That he was asking her great husband for favours,
He ended it lying, said he did not crave her.
Bellerophon saw the king again the next day,
Proetus was scowling and Stheneboa was away,
'You must go to my uncle Iobates in the country,
He will decide your argument' Proetus did decree,
'You must take him this letter, but keep it sealed,
Only after you get to him will your destiny be revealed,'
Bellerophon sloped off, pondering on the meaning,
Of what had happened, whether there was scheming,
There seemed to be nothing to do but as he was told,
He made his way to the house of Iobates, further down the road.
The prince told the old man that he had come fom the king,
Iobates was gracious and most welcoming,
It was a pleasant change of attitude from the one at the palace,
The atmosphere relaxing, the uncle had a kindly face,
The two discussed Bellerophon's late petition and Iobates health,
Iobates argued that enslavement increased everybody's wealth,
'But you are right that the people seek recompense,'
He sensed, 'for their lack of independence,'
Bellerophon delivered the letter into Iobates hands,
Spent the day with Philanoe wandering around the land.
Philanoe was Iobates' daughter,
As calm and beautiful as the sky,
He had it in mind to court her,
With her he felt a high,
What she was feeling he did not know,
Dark hair, blue eyes,she had knowledge that did show,
How would he see her again?
It would be back to Corinth after this strange game,
He knew he could find a way,
What would his father in Corinth say?
Bellerophon slept well in Iobates' home,
But in the morning happiness had gone,
Iobates had a stern and troubled frown,
Perhaps it was the letter that had brought him down?
Iobates stated grimly: 'New facts have arisen,
To get what you desire you must go on a mission,
You must kill the monster that lives over the hill,
I suggest you take today to prepare, but do as you will,'
Bellerophon was confused,
Why had Proetus not told him this news?
That night the prince did not sleep well,
Was it a dream or reality? He could not tell,
A wise and beautiful woman gave him a golden bridle,
He captured a glorious winged horse to ride on,
He flew over a monster, showered it with lumps of lead,
When he woke up the dream-monster was dead,
At morning-time, he asked prince Iobates for a horse,
The man sighed and said: 'the best of course,
He's a clean white stallion called Pegasus,
He's strong, he almost flies ahead,'
Bellerophon searched the hills for lead.
Although Pegasus stayed upon the ground,
Riding at speed did astound,
So smooth, so fast and forceful,
It was almost as if they flew!
They searched for that monster over the hill,
As night came on they were searching still,
But then Bellerophon spotted it loping back to a hole,
Bellerophon used his head to reherse his role.
Looking down from that mighty white horse into that dark place,
Bellerophon shouted to the monster to show its face,
Something roared and gibbered and glared,
But to emerge from the hole it would not dare,
Shouted the nervous Bellerophon:
'Monster! You are hated, hated to the bone!
But I have the answer that will let you alone!'
'Whaaaat?' cried the thing,
'Shilly tales yo bling!'
'I'm telling you,' replied the prince,
'That this magic powder has worked since times since,
My own great-grandmother who had the way,
Of knowledge and magic that lasts to this day!'
Could this possibly work? The dream woman knew,
But now his plan seemed of unlikely value,
But the thing, ugly, dirty and deformed,
Glanced out again to be informed,
Of who this stranger may be,
'Wadot yodot disfloor me?'
'I do this for the grace of all concerned,'
Lied the prince, 'the gods have decreed it is something you have earned,'
The last statement might have been more honest,
Bellerophon was becoming frightened, but he must not be modest.
'Lickle-me sheediss!' the monster growled,
The prince displayed a bag of lead that he'd ground,
His stomach quivered,
As this ape-thing considered,
'Wa dotnut yo goblit?'
Bellerophon dipped and licked his finger in the little sack,
And then serendipitously, he felt the sun on his back,
Rising, it made Pegasus fully glorious,
Light glinted off of his armour in mist amorphous,
'Gaa!' said the monster, awe in its piggy eyes,
'Gimme! Yort butnot betelin lies!'
The monster poured the powdered lead into its maw,
Choking at first, but then having more,
'I'll be off now,' Bellerophon did say,
The monster replied: 'No. Yo shtay!'
Bellerophon waited nervously,
As the monster frowned, guffawed and began to sway,
The hero needed to check that no dust did really linger,
Upon his licked finger,
However, that would give the game away.
The monster suddenly shouted and clutched its stomach,
Bound out of the hole, wobbled, shouted: ‘Kaka Kack!’
Erratically it gibbered, then threw itself at the prince,
Bellerophon was off the horse, the thing did vomit and wince,
The young man drew his sword,
The monster roared!
It charged madly, flailing badly, mouth full of blood,
Bellerophon presented his sword to its stomach, it died as it stood.
Iobates was astounded when the young prince returned,
And Bellerophon was shocked when he learned,
That he should have been killed by the monstrous encounter,
The letter from Proetus had orders to destroy the youngster,
Iobates apologised, claimed Bellerophon as great,
But warned that toying with the queen would lead to a terrible fate,
‘I did not toy with the woman!’ Bellerophon complained,
‘She came on to me bluntly, whatever she claims!’
‘We must plan how to convince Proetus of your petition’ Iobates said,
‘Now you have filled the monster’s stomach with lead.’
That night Bellerophon had another dream,
He flew on a winged Pegasus, too high to be seen,
Above the clouds, white and mountainous below,
Rays of sun, shining, blinding glow,
Thrusting through white scenery, a golden mountain ahead!
This was Olympus, the gods’ homestead!
Onwards to greatness, the dream seemed to say!
Bellerophon was heroic, and would save the day!
Into Argos, gleaming towers and gardens,
Bellerophon would be a hero again!
Fair Philanoe would come to him and be his queen!
The people were already smiling in recognition,
Of the glory of himself and his mission!
Freeing the people would win him adoration,
And the white stone city of Argos would be given,
Over to his command,
The fates had chosen!
Bellerophon and Iobates went to the court of king Proetus,
To the monarch: ‘I can vouch for this man’ said Iobates,
‘He has done nothing untoward and I believe, is touched by greatness,’
‘Speak then ,Bellerophon’ said the king with stress,
‘I am Bellerophon of Corinth, fine,
I am godlike, almost divine!
I demand freedom for the people, in my name,
For it is I who killed the monster, I do proclaim!
Otherwise we will rebel,
And your power will be as a shell!’
Iobates looked at him side-wards, the king did scowl,
The queen sniggered, doom did prowl,
‘Of course I am right, anyone can see,’
That the gods, they live through me!’
That last bit must have convinced, thought Bellerophon,
But sadly, he turned out to be wrong.
In his dungeon, for he did not know how long,
Mouldered prince Bellerophon,
Accused of treason, and courting rebellion,
And legally no longer Corinth’s son,
Kept alive should he be proved of use,
Suffering terrible mental abuse,
The bugs did crawl,
The rats did gnaw,
Scraps were thrown in and devoured,
Months or years through time was ploughed,
Taking the darkness,
Eventually with less stress.
A vision did reoccur,
Himself falling from above the clouds,
Tossed from the winged horse Pegasus,
Down and down towards loneliness,
The golden mountain was never reached,
He fell with bugs and rats into deep,
He asked glorious Pegasus: why?
But the horse was beyond, beyond the sky,
He stood before Proetus with that horse,
Pegasus was greater than Bellerophon, of course,
Despite everything, the king could see,
That the mightiness of Bellerophon was unworthy.
And then at some time, things changed,
Dangerous, powerful rebels and raiders came,
They burnt Argos and let Bellerophon loose,
He ran to the hills, for he could not choose,
Any sort of life after this prolonged crisis,
He hid in the hole, the ground is where life is!
Gibbering and wandering and glaring and night,
Would time bring on a hero he would have to fight?
He hunted sheep and devoured them raw,
Argos recovered, but he became the city’s sore.
Raiders and rebels came and went,
With views on the Argive government,
The new monster attacked if they came near,
Ate some of them, used their gear,
Chaos devoured the kingdom,
Until the advent of Agamemnon,
Who killed the monster over the hill,
Which emerged from its hole and warbled shrill,
This was the act and the loss,
That gave Agamemnon Argos.
