Chapter 16

Chapter XVI
Achelous and Hercules. Admetus and Alcestis. Antigone.
Penelope The river-god Achelous told the story of Erisichthon to Theseus
and his companions, whom he was entertaining at his hospitable
board, while they were delayed on their journey by the overflow
of his waters. Having finished his story, he added, "But why
should I tell of other persons' transformations, when I myself am
an instance of the possession of this power. Sometimes I become
a serpent, and sometimes a bull, with horns on my head. Or I
should say, I once could do so; but now I have but one horn,
having lost one." And here he groaned and was silent. Theseus asked him the cause of his grief, and how he lost his
horn. To which question the river-god replied as follows: "Who
likes to tell of his defeats? Yet I will not hesitate to relate
mine, comforting myself with the thought of the greatness of my
conqueror, for it was Hercules. Perhaps you have heard of the
fame of Dejanira, the fairest of maidens, whom a host of suitors
strove to win. Hercules and myself were of the number, and the
rest yielded to us two. He urged in his behalf his descent from
Jove, and his labors by which he had exceeded the exactions of
Juno, his step-mother. I, on the other hand, said to the father
of the maiden, 'Behold me, the king of the waters that flow
through your land. I am no stranger from a foreign shore, but
belong to the country, a part of your realm. Let it not stand in
my way that royal Juno owes me no enmity, nor punishes me with
heavy tasks. As for this man, who boasts himself the son of
Jove, it is either a false pretence, or disgraceful to him if
true, for it cannot be true except by his mother's shame.' As I
said this Hercules scowled upon me, and with difficulty
restrained his rage. 'My hand will answer better than my
tongue,' said he. 'I yield you the victory in words, but trust
my cause to the strife of deeds. With that he advanced towards
me, and I was ashamed, after what I had said, to yield. I threw
off my green vesture, and presented myself for the struggle. He
tried to throw me, now attacking my head, now my body. My bulk
was my protection, and he assailed me in vain. For a time we
stopped, then returned to the conflict. We each kept our
position, determined not to yield, foot to foot, I bending over
him, clinching his hands in mine, with my forehead almost
touching his. Thrice Hercules tried to throw me off, and the
fourth time he succeeded, brought me to the ground and himself
upon my back. I tell you the truth, it was as if a mountain had
fallen on me. I struggled to get my arms at liberty, panting and
reeking with perspiration. He gave me no chance to recover, but
seized my throat. My knees were on the earth and