From the painting by Maxfield Parrish
“The Fates have spoken, and their word shall surely come to pass. A fine and fair thread of life has Lachesis given to my son, and Clotho will weave it into dark places, where it shall shine exceeding bright. The gifts they have given are good. The hand of Atropos alone is against him, and she has measured his life by the life of a frail piece of wood. But so long as the gods shall give me strength no careless hand shall place that brand upon the flames, and no man shall know the secret of his life, for grief or madness may turn even the heart of a friend. On me, and on me alone, shall my son’s life rest; for well do I know that neither prayer nor sacrifice can avail to turn the heart of Atropos, the Unswerving One.” So she kept the brand securely hidden where she alone could find it. Many other fair children did she bear to Œneus the king, but best of them all she loved Meleager, her first-born; for the word that the Fates had spoken came true. He grew to be a great warrior and a mighty man, and was feared by his foes and loved by his friends through the length and breadth of the land. In all the country-side there was no man who could hurl the javelin with such force and skill as he, and whenever he went forth to battle the victory lay with the men of Calydon, and he was called the savior and protector of his city.
When he was in the flower of his manhood, the call of Jason came from far Iolcos for all the heroes of Greece to join him in his search for the Golden Fleece. Amongst them sailed Meleager in the good ship Argo, and came to the land of the dusky Colchians on the shores of the Black Sea. He played his part like a man, and came back to Calydon with a fair name for courage and endurance. Then was he hoisted on the shoulders of his countrymen and carried through the streets of the city, and feasted right royally in his father’s house.
Soon after his return it chanced that the harvest was more plentiful than it had ever been within the memory of man. Wherefore Œneus the king ordered a great thanksgiving to be held throughout the land in honor of Bacchus and Ceres and Minerva, who had given such good gifts to men. At every shrine and temple the altars smoked with sacrifice, and glad bands of youths and maidens with garlands on their heads danced hand in hand around, singing the song of the harvest.
When Diana, the huntress, saw that everywhere the altars smoked in honor of Ceres and Bacchus and Minerva, but that never a single stone was raised to her, she was filled with jealousy and wrath. One night, when all the land lay sleeping, she left the mountains, where she loved to hunt, and came down to Calydon. The arrows in her quiver rattled as she strode along in her wrath, and the flash of her eyes was as the flash of summer lightning across the sky. With great swinging strides she came and stood over Œneus as he slept.
“O king,” she said, “too long have I been patient and waited for my dues; but I will suffer thine ingratitude no more. When the young corn stands green upon the plain, and the vine-leaves are shooting, and the trees cast once more their shade upon the bare hill-side, then shalt thou have cause to know my power. Broad and dark are the forests, and many a wild beast lurks therein that is tame at my word alone. One of these will I let loose upon thy land. Many a fair field shall be trodden underfoot, and many a vineyard and olive-grove laid waste—yea, and red blood shall flow, ere my wrath be assuaged, and I take away the pests from your midst. I have spoken, and no sacrifice shall turn me from my word.”
Thus did she speak, saying the words in his ear, and turned and left the room by the way she had come. With a start he awoke from his sleep and looked around him, but no one could he see. Only a sudden storm of wind lashed the branches of the trees against each other, and a dark cloud hid the face of the moon.