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The myth of Melampus

Melampus had a favorite tree, under which he liked to nap and in which, unbeknownst to him, happened to live a family of magical snakes. One day as he headed for his tree, Melampus saw his servants axes in hand, about to cut the tree down. Not wanting to lose his favorite napping spot, Melampus stopped his servants, sent them away, and settled in for a snooze.

While Melampus had no idea snakes lived in his tree (let alone that he had saved their home) the magical snakes had heard everything, and wished they could thank Melampus. To show their him their gratitude, the snakes decided to give Melampus a magical power: they licked the insides of Melampus' ears while he slept, so that once he awoke he was able to understand the language of animals -- that way, should he ever help animals again, he would be able to hear their thanks.

While Melampus slept, his brother was going through heartbreak. Melampus' brother Bias wanted to marry Pero, the love of his life -- but her father, Neleus, demanded a dowry Bias could not afford to pay. When he heard of his brother's dilemma, Melampus agreed to steal a herd of cattle for his brother to use as a dowry. Unfortunately, he was caught in the act, so Bias was still without his dowry and Melampus was sent to jail.

Ashamed more of having failed his brother than of his attempt at theft, Melampus was imprisoned in a dark cell, with old dirt floors and a ceiling lined with heavy wooden beams. In the silence of the night, Melampus heard a thin but constant grinding sound, then small, muffled voices: "Almost there, almost there," said one voice; "Yes, we should meet by morning!" replied another. Melampus, realizing he was hearing termites talking in the timbers, hollered for his jailers.

"Please: you must let me out!" The jailers laughed, taunting: "Now, why would we want to do that?" Melampus replied in a panicking voice: "The beams are almost eaten through; they will collapse by morning!" Melampus yelled on and on, as the jailers looked up at the beams and then at one another. The wood looked perfectly sound, but it was clear to them that Melampus would not calm down if they left him in his cell. Determining that the prisoner had begun to lose his mind and also that they themselves would get no sleep unless they let him out, the jailers shrugged and moved Melampus to the cell across the prison's corridor. As the jailers clanged away, Melampus listened closely; hearing no termites or woodworms, he eventually dozed off to the now-distant sounds of the jailers' continued laughter.

The next morning, the entire prison was awoken by an enormous crash: Sure enough, the beams in Melampus' former cell had split and the ceiling had caved in, covering the space with huge pieces of debris that would surely have killed him if he had not been moved the night before. His jailers were stunned and, fearing they might anger the gods by keeping a prophet imprisoned, they freed Melampus.

The king of Pylos heard of Melampus' prophecy and called for the "soothsayer". The king offered Melampus anything he had the power to give in exchange for the answer to a mystery: the king's son had suddenly gone deaf and dumb as a young boy, and the king was desperate to understand why. Melampus, knowing he could not turn down the request of a king, quickly agreed to find the answer.

He set off to figure out how to solve the mystery of the king's son's ailment. Melampus wandered about the kingdom, eventually stopping for a rest not far from a pair of fat crows.

"What an exceptional meal," smacked one of the crows: "Haven't seen food like that since that feast for the king's son, all those years ago." The other crow got excited at the mention: "What a day that was!" he cawed. "Remember how the boy surprised his father as the king was slaughtering beasts for the meal? Poor boy was so frightened of that bloody knife!"

"Too bad his father threw the knife away to go comfort his son," commiserated the first crow: "It pierced Hera's sacred tree — that one right over there — and she cursed the boy until the knife is removed." The second crow nodded: "Ironic that it should be so easy to cure the king's son. They need only remove the knife from the tree, and scrape rust from its blade into a glass of water. Once he drinks the water, the king's son will be healed." "Oh well," replied his companion. "Nothing we can do about that."

Melampus could barely believe his luck, but he went straight to the tree pointed out by the first of the crows, and he found the old and rusty knife buried deep within it. He carefully pulled the knife from the tree, then scraped rust from its blade into a glass of water. When the king's son drank the mixture, he was immediately cured. The king was overjoyed.

For his reward, Melampus requested two-thirds of the kingdom: one third for himself, and the other for his brother, Bias. The king kept his word, Melampus lived peacefully and well ever after, and his brother had the dowry he needed to marry the woman he loved.

Other interpretations and further information

The myth of Melampus has a number of interpretations, but the main details are generally consistent from one telling to another. Some versions list his tales in a different order; others present Melampus as more kindly than wily, or as respectful and prophetic rather than lucky. [The interpretation above was paraphrased by Janelle Mellamphy based on a number of sources, her favorite and her first encounter with Melampus being in Robert Graves' The Greek Myths (Harmondscourt, UK: Penguin 1960).]

With lineage going back to Gaia and Uranus (ahem) Melampus married either Iphianira or Pero, and seemed Irish enough, having had seven children: Abas, Antiphates, Mantius, Bias, Pronoe, Manto, and Thiodamas. He was apparently the first to devise a cure by means of drugs and purifications (ahem again).

According to an online encyclopedia web site (with too many pop-ups to link it here), at Aegosthena in Megara, central Greece, there was a sanctuary of Melampus, and an annual festival held in his honour. Herodotus apparently said that Melampus introduced the cult of Dionysus into Greece from Egypt. Party hearty indeed. Further,

[...] his name ("black foot") is probably “a symbolical expression of his character as a Bacchic propitiatory priest and seer” (Preller). According to the traditional explanation, he was so called from his foot having been tanned by exposure to the sun when a boy. In his character of physician, he was the reputed discoverer of the herb melampodium, a kind of hellebore. Melampus and Bias are symbolical representatives of cunning and force. See C. Eckermann, Melampus und sein Geschlecht (1840).
[editor's note: "Melampus and his Gender"??!]

Another (?) possibly Roman Melampus dating from 3 BC, was known as Melampus Scriptor De Divinatione, which means something like Melampus, Scribe of Divinations or Writer of Prophecies. The web site mentioned above describes him as "the author of a short extant treatise of little value on Divination by means of Palpitation and Birthmarks". My, doesn't that sound enjoyable! Snake oil, anyone?

(German-speaking Mellamphys sought for further research! Don't suppose any of the Ohio USA Malamphy's "Diehl"s are otherwise related to the philosopher H. Diels who penned Die griechischen Zuckungsbücher (Melampus), and other rivetting works??)