The fourth labor of Hercules: the Erymanthian boar. Heracles. The myth of Hercules: the fifth feat - the Erymanthian boar Bulls of Gerion - the tenth feat of Hercules
True strength is not in the muscles at all. Just like true love is not in the heart at all.
Love must come from the belly, where the soul hides. Then it will be full. If you love with your heart, as I loved Dejanira, then there may not be enough love for everyone else. What happened to me.
And the strength should not be in the arms and legs at all. It is where life itself is knotted.
It's not for nothing that I compare love and strength. After all, they are always there. I had little strength and my love was weak. Hercules was strong and his love was great. Even having learned what kind of gift I brought him, he did not take my life, and did not hold a grudge against Dejanira.
And only those who are equally strong can resist the strong. Therefore, most of the feats were given to Hercules easily.
However, the hero also came across serious rivals. One of these was the Erymanthian boar. And who knows, if not for the luck of Hercules, who would have emerged victorious from this fight ...
The Kerinean doe still haunted Eurystheus. More precisely, it was not the doe itself that was the cause of his concern, but the fact that in a few days, while people admired this divine creation of the goddess of the hunt, the treasury of the Tirynthian king increased greatly.
Apparently, this is why Eurystheus ordered that the boar that lived on Mount Erymanthus in Arcadia, which towers over the city of Psofis, be brought alive.
The Erymanthian boar was the most terrible beast for the inhabitants of Psofis, because through the fault of this beast, people lost most of the crop. A huge monster devastated fields and gardens, but they could not catch him in any way - this smart beast bypassed all the traps, and deceived the hunters for his skin with such ease that many of them wandered in the wild forests for several days, and always returned empty-handed.
When I arrived at Psophis, I tried to catch the beast, just like all the hunters before me. However, the boar easily found even the most ingenious traps, and prudently avoided hunting ambushes.
Tired of these games, I decided to climb Mount Erimanf and catch a boar in his lair.
For two days I climbed the mountain, and only at its very top did I finally discover the cave where the Erymanthian boar lived.
I sat down at the entrance to rest and gain strength. We didn't have to wait long, he soon showed up.
It was a really big beast. He was almost as tall as my shoulder, and his fangs were twice as thick as my arms.
I barely had time to jump up and draw my sword before he attacked with a howl of rage. His blow was so strong that I could not stay on my feet and fell. And when I fell, I rolled down the slope, while huge fangs dug the ground where I had just been.
And then suddenly a response roar was heard from the cave and another boar came out from there. Obomlev, I didn’t even immediately realize that it was a female. Only then did he notice grunting piglets near her feet.
Roaring even more furiously, the boar again rushed at me. I barely managed to get up. But from a strong blow he fell again. Huge fangs cut my arm up to the shoulder, but I still dodged. A terrible beast swept past.
As it turned around, I got up and rushed into the woods, realizing that the next time the boar attacked, my luck might change.
And then I remembered the female with children. They were still standing at the entrance and watching our duel.
Still not quite understanding what I was doing, I jumped up to them and with all my strength plunged the sword into the boar's neck. She howled and butted me angrily with her head, causing me to roll on the ground again - she was also much larger than ordinary wild pigs.
I jumped up and ran away, but no one followed me. Choking with a roar, the female boar fell right on the piglets, crushing them with her body. Blood gushed from her neck wound. The Erymanthian boar himself froze in place, looking at the death of his girlfriend. His muzzle suddenly took on an astonished, completely human expression.
It was only later that I realized what I had done. And stopped...
For a few moments there was an eerie silence. Then the Erymathus boar screamed wildly. There was such pain and despair in his cry that I regretted what I had done.
I ran away again.
Without ceasing to scream, the boar rushed after me. Turning around, I saw his furious blind eyes.
I stopped near a huge tree, and when the beast jumped on me, it just rushed to the side.
The boar crashed into a tree with all its might, fell and fell silent.
It remained only to tie him up and take him to Tiryns, where Eurystheus put him in a cage, and people came to look at this terrible beast. The treasury of the king began to replenish again ...
- But that's not all, is it? I asked, sensing an understatement in Hercules' story.
Yes, - he said, - the Erymanthian boar very soon withered and died, so that Eurystheus again was left with nothing.
When I tied him up, he was conscious, but did not resist at all. I looked at him and saw tears flowing from his eyes.
But it's just a wild pig! I exclaimed.
Hercules smiled bitterly and drank the wine from the goblet in one gulp.
Maybe, - he said after a short silence, - but hatred for Eurystheus woke up in me just then.
Wild boar hunting
...Once the evil Hera sent a terrible disease to Hercules. The great hero lost his mind, madness
took possession of him. In a fit of rage, Hercules killed all his children and the children of his brother Iphicles. When
the attack passed, deep grief seized Hercules. Purified from the filth committed by him
involuntary murder, Hercules left Thebes and went to the sacred Delphi to question the god Apollo,
what should he do. Apollo ordered Hercules to go to the homeland of his ancestors in Tiryns and twelve
years to serve Eurystheus. Through the mouth of the Pythia, the son of Latona predicted to Hercules that he would receive immortality if
perform twelve great feats at the command of Eurystheus. Hercules settled in Tiryns and became
servant of the weak, cowardly Eurystheus...
Rycroft painter-"Heracles throwing the Erymanthyan boar on Eurystheus"
-attic-(black-figures)-amphora-(515-500 BC)
Eurystheus instructed Hercules to kill the Erymanthian boar. This boar, possessing monstrous strength,
lived on Mount Erimanthe and devastated the surroundings of the city of Psofis. He did not give people mercy and killed them
with their huge fangs. Hercules went to Mount Erimanfu. On the way, he visited the wise centaur Fall.
Phol accepted the great son of Zeus with honor and arranged a feast for him. During the feast, the centaur opened a large
a vessel of wine to treat the hero better. The fragrance of marvelous wine wafted far away. Heard it
fragrance and other centaurs. They were terribly angry with Phol because he opened the vessel. Wine
belonged not only to Foul, but was the property of all centaurs. Centaurs rushed to the dwelling of Fola
and attacked him and Hercules by surprise, when the two of them were feasting merrily, decorating their heads with wreaths of ivy.
Hercules was not afraid of the centaurs. He quickly jumped up from his bed and began to throw huge
smoking bunts. The centaurs fled, and Hercules wounded them with his poisonous arrows. Hero
pursued them all the way to Malea.
Painter of London 213-"Heracles and the Erymanthyan boar"-attic-(black-figures)
-550 BC-Vulci London-British Museum (B 213)
There the centaurs took refuge with a friend of Hercules, Chiron, the wisest of the centaurs. Following them into the cave burst
and Hercules. In anger, he pulled his bow, an arrow flashed in the air and pierced the knee of one of the centaurs.
Hercules did not strike the enemy, but his friend Chiron. Great grief seized the hero when he saw whom he had wounded.
Hercules hurries to wash and bandage his friend's wound, but nothing can help. Hercules knew that the wound was from an arrow,
poisoned by the bile of the hydra, is incurable. Chiron also knew that he was in danger of a painful death. To not suffer
from the wound, he subsequently voluntarily descended into the gloomy kingdom of Hades. In deep sadness, Hercules left Chiron
and soon reached Mount Erimantha. There, in a dense forest, he found a formidable boar and drove him out of the thicket with a cry.
Hercules pursued the boar for a long time, and finally drove him into deep snow on the top of the mountain. Boar stuck in
snow, and Hercules, rushing at him, tied him up and carried him alive to Mycenae. When Eurystheus saw the monstrous
boar, then from fear hid in a large bronze vessel.
Unknown painter-"Erymanthyan boar"-attic-(red-figures)-cup-ca 510 BC Paris-Musée du Louvre (G 17)
Andocides (potter) Lysippides (painter)-"Erymanthyan boar"-attic-(black-figure)
-oinochoe London-British Museum (B 492)
Laurent Delvaux (1696-1778)-"Heracles and the Erymanthyan boar"-terracota-1768
Brussels-Musees Royaux des Beaux-Arts
Hercules did not rest long after hunting the Kerinean doe. Having recovered from the shock, Eurystheus ordered Hercules to catch alive a ferocious boar that lived on Mount Erymanth in the same Arcadia. Erymanthian boar, possessing monstrous power, devastated the surroundings of the city of Psofis. The boar did not give mercy to people either, killing with its huge fangs all those who met on its way. Hercules had to go again to the lair of a terrible beast.
On the way, he visited an old acquaintance of the centaur Fola, a descendant of the wise centaur Chiron, born in secret from Rhea. From Chiron came a large tribe of centaurs, who looked like half-humans, half-horses. Sometimes they helped people and heroes, and sometimes they entered into confrontation with them. Phol accepted the great son of Zeus with honor and prepared a plentiful meal for him. During the feast, when friends were feasting, decorating their heads with ivy wreaths, Fall put a large vessel of wine on the table. And then, attracted by the fragrance of a marvelous aroma, other centaurs rushed to the cave, armed with stones and stakes. Their indignation knew no bounds: how could Foul open a vessel with a precious drink, which was the property of the entire community! But Hercules was not taken aback. He quickly jumped up from his bed, grabbed his bow and immediately fire arrows flew into the centaurs. In the meantime, the wise Kentaur Chiron arrived in time. He tried to stop the fight that had flared up, but one of the arrows, soaked in the poison of the Lernaean Hydra, hit him in the leg. Chiron was immortal, but the poison, having penetrated into the blood, caused him such terrible torments that the wise centaur chose to give up his immortality and voluntarily descended into Hades.
After a short fight, the centaurs fled, and the saddened Hercules continued on his way. Soon he reached Mount Erimanf. There, following the tracks left on the trees by fangs, the hero found the lair of a boar in a dense forest and drove him out of the thicket with loud cries.
The ferocious beast furiously attacked the hero. The blows of the sword did not bring him any harm and only inflamed a furious rage. Then Hercules turned his shiny shield so that the sun was reflected in it, and directed a bright beam directly into the eyes of the boar. Then he shouted loudly and began to beat on the shield with his sword. Blinded by the light, frightened by the noise, the boar took off running. Hercules drove him to the top of the mountain, covered with snow, until the boar got stuck in a deep snowdrift. Then Hercules threw himself on the back of the monster with one jump, tied him up and put a heavy burden on his mighty shoulders. All the inhabitants of Miken, who came out to meet him, joyfully greeted the daredevil. Eurystheus, seeing Hercules returning with the Erymanthian boar, climbed out of fear into a bronze pithos dug deep into the ground.
Since it so happened that the third feat brought Hercule Poirot to Switzerland, he decided to take the opportunity and travel a little around the country.
He spent a couple of days in Chamonix, a couple of days in Montreux, and from there he went to Aldermatt, where his friends strongly recommended him to go.
Aldermatt, however, made a depressing impression on him. At the sight of this place on the edge of the valley, surrounded on all sides by snowy peaks, Poirot suddenly felt that it was difficult for him to breathe.
No, I won't stay here, he said to himself, and at the same moment he noticed the funicular. - Wow, just in time!
The funicular, as he found out, stopped first at Les Avins, then at Corush, and finally at Rocher Neiges, at an altitude of three thousand meters above sea level.
So high Poirot was not going to climb. He decided he had had enough of Les Avins.
But, as you know, a person assumes ... The funicular had already set off when the conductor approached Poirot.
Having checked and punched a ticket with a frightening-looking composter, he returned it with a bow - and imperceptibly thrust a crumpled piece of paper into Poirot's hand.
Poirot raised his eyebrows slightly. After a while, he straightened out the paper. It was a note, hastily scrawled in pencil.
“Your mustache,” she said, “can’t be confused with anything! Greetings, dear colleague. You could do me a huge favor. Surely you've read about the Salle case? His killer, Marrasco, according to intelligence data, meets with some of the members of his gang, and not just anywhere, but in Roche Nezh! Of course, this looks like nonsense, but my sources are quite reliable - you know, informants will always be found. So keep your eyes open, my friend. Contact Inspector Drouet on the spot. He, of course, is a police officer, but he is far from you. Marrasco must be taken, and taken alive. This is not a man, but just a wild boar, one of the most ruthless killers in the world. I didn't dare to talk to you in Aldermatt - I could be followed, and it would be easier for you to act if you were considered an ordinary tourist. Good hunting!
Your old friend Lemantey.
Poirot stroked his mustache thoughtfully. Yes, it was impossible not to recognize them. Well well! He read detailed reports in the newspapers about l "affaire Salley The Salls case (fr.).- the cold-blooded murder of a major Parisian bookmaker. And it was Marrasco, a member of one of the most "prominent" gangs that cheated at the races, who did it. He was suspected of a number of other murders, but only this time the guilt was fully proven. He managed to escape, most likely abroad, and now the police were looking for him all over Europe.
So, Marrasco made an appointment at Rocher Neige...
Poirot shook his head in disbelief. Rocher Nezhe was above the border of eternal snows, on a long and narrow ledge hanging over the valley. There was, of course, a hotel, but it was connected to the outside world only by a funicular. The hotel opened in June, but usually few people appeared there before July or even August.
A very unsuitable place for a gathering of criminals, a real trap.
And yet, since Lemantheus believed that his information was reliable ... Poirot respected the Commissioner of the Swiss Police, a man of exceptional intelligence and not throwing words to the wind.
So, Marrasco had reasons to get here, away from any civilization.
Poirot sighed. Chasing a seasoned killer didn't quite fit in with his idea of a pleasant vacation. And in general, he was used to working with his head, sitting in a comfortable chair, and not to track down all sorts of ferocious creatures in the mountains ...
Wild boar - he remembered the words of Lemantheus.
Strange coincidence…
The fourth feat of Hercules, he muttered under his breath. - Erymanthian boar...
Trying not to draw attention to himself, he began to get accustomed to the passengers.
The tourist sitting across from him was obviously from America. Open benevolence, a truly childish delight in the eyes and a voluminous guide - everything betrayed in him an American from a small provincial town who first came to Europe. Judging by the expression on his face, Poirot reckoned, he would soon be unable to endure the oppressive silence and would try to strike up a conversation.
Across the aisle sat a tall, grey-haired gentleman with an aquiline nose, reading a book in German. He had the strong, flexible fingers of a musician or surgeon.
Away from Poirot, there was a trinity of bow-legged thugs of the same breed, obvious horsemen. They played cards. Apparently, soon they will seduce one of the fellow travelers to keep them company. At first, the poor fellow will be lucky, but very soon the luck will stop.
Fraudsters are like scammers. Their "colleagues" can be met on a train going to the place of races, or on a second-rate passenger steamer, but .., not in a half-empty trailer of a mountain funicular.
There was also a dark and tall woman in the trailer. She was very beautiful, but her expressive face was strangely fixed. Her eyes fixed on the valley below, she paid no attention to anyone.
As Poirot expected, the American almost immediately began the conversation, saying that his name was Schwartz and that he was in Europe for the first time. Sea of impressions, he said. Chillon Castle is something. He did not like Paris, it is not clear why he is so praised. He was in the Folies Bergère, and in the Louvre, and in the Notre Dame Cathedral. Only none of these restaurants and cafes can play real jazz. But the Champs Elysees - very even nothing. He especially liked the illuminated fountains.
No one went out to Les Avins or Korush. Everyone was heading for Rocher Neige.
Mr. Schwartz was not slow to explain what drew him there. He supposedly always dreamed of visiting among the snow-capped peaks. Three thousand meters is great. At such a height, they say, even an egg cannot be boiled.
The excessively sociable Mr. Schwartz tried to draw the gray-haired aristocrat into a conversation, but he coldly looked at him over his pince-nez and again plunged into reading.
Then Mr. Schwartz offered the swarthy lady to change places: the view is better from here, he explained.
It is difficult to say whether the lady understood his specific English. Anyway, she shook her head and pulled her fur collar even tighter.
It hurts to see a woman traveling alone,” Mr. Schwartz whispered in Poirot's ear. - A traveling woman is in great need of care.
Recalling some of the American women he had met in Europe, Poirot agreed.
Mr Schwartz sighed. Everyone around was so arrogant. A little friendliness wouldn't hurt anyone...
2
There was something utterly funny in the fact that in such a wilderness, more precisely, at such a height, the manager, dressed in an impeccable tailcoat and patent leather boots, met the guests.
True, this stately handsome man was extremely embarrassed.
The season has just begun... There is no hot water... And even with a cold interruption... Of course, he will do everything in his power... There are not enough people... He did not count on such an influx...
All this was done with professional courtesy, and yet Poirot got the impression that anxiety was hidden behind the formal courtesy. The manager clearly felt out of place. And the reason for this was not the lack of hot water ...
Dinner was served in a long hall overlooking the valley below. The only waiter named Gustave was simply a virtuoso in his field. He scurried along the tables giving advice on food choices and waving a wine list. Three horsemen sat at one table and, laughing, chatted loudly in French:
Old Joseph! What about little Denise, old chap? Do you remember that damn nag that left us all on beans in Auteuil?
Their quite sincere amusement seemed terribly out of place here.
The beautiful lady sat alone at the corner table, still not looking at anyone.
Later, when Poirot had already settled in the living room, the manager approached him and started a confidential conversation.
He hopes that Monsieur will not be too strict. Now is not the season. Previously, almost no one came here before the end of July. Maybe Monsieur noticed this lady? Here she comes here every year, at this particular time. Her husband died three years ago while climbing. It was such a drama for her, they were so devoted to each other. She prefers to arrive before the start of the season, apparently so that there are as few people as possible. It's like a pilgrimage for her. The elderly gentleman is a famous physician, Dr. Karl Lutz from Vienna. He, according to him, intends to have a good rest here.
Yes, it's quiet here, - agreed Poirot. -Aces Messieurs? These gentlemen (fr.) He pointed to the trinity of horsemen. - Do you think they are also looking for rest?
The manager shrugged, but his eyes darted.
Oh, these tourists, - he remarked evasively, - give them something new all the time ... Height is a new sensation in itself.
And not a very pleasant feeling, thought Poirot to himself. He felt how strongly his heart was beating. He immediately remembered the children's song: "The smart one will not go uphill, the smart one will bypass the mountain."
Schwartz entered the living room. Seeing Poirot, he beamed and moved straight towards him.
I just had a few words with Dr. Lutz.
He speaks a little English. The Nazis expelled him from Austria - because he is a Jew. They went absolutely crazy there! He's a celebrity - diseases, psychoanalysis and everything else.
His gaze fell on a tall woman who did not take her eyes off the remotely beautiful mountains. Schwartz lowered his voice.
I asked the waiter for her name. This is Madame Grandier. Her husband died during the ascent, so she comes here. I'm thinking, maybe we should try to stir it up?
I wouldn't do it if I were you,' warned Poirot.
Alas, the intrusive friendliness of Mr. Schwartz was clearly looking for an outlet.
Poirot saw how he tried to get to know her and how sharply these attempts were rejected. Their figures stood out clearly against the background of the window. The woman was taller than Schwartz. She threw back her head, looking at the uninvited interlocutor with cold hostility.
What she said, Poirot did not hear, but Schwartz came back like a beaten dog.
Nothing happened,” he said regretfully. - In my opinion, since we are all here together, it would be worthwhile to act accordingly. We're all human, aren't we, mister... Come to think of it, I don't even know your name!
I trade silk in Lyon.
Here is my card, Monsieur Poirier. You will be in Fountain Springs - come in, we are always glad to see guests.
Poirot accepted the business card, patted his pocket, and muttered:
Alas, I did not take my cards with me...
Before going to bed, Poirot read Lemantey's note carefully again, then put it carefully into his wallet, muttering thoughtfully:
Curious…
3
The waiter Gustave brought Poirot coffee and a couple of rolls for breakfast.
Monsieur, I hope you understand. - he said apologetically, - that at such a height it is impossible to serve really hot coffee? Unfortunately, it starts to boil too soon.
Such cataclysms must be endured stoically, said Poirot.
Monsieur is a philosopher, - Gustave appreciated his remark and went to the door, but instead of leaving, he looked out, closed the door and returned to the head of the bed.
Monsieur Hercule Poirot? I'm Inspector Drouet, he introduced himself.
Ah, said Poirot. - I actually thought so.
Crash? Poirot sat up in bed. - What's the accident?
Fortunately, there were no casualties. It happened at night. Perhaps pure coincidence - a small avalanche came down. But it's possible that someone did it on purpose. Repair will take several days, but for now we are cut off from the outside world. Now, when the snow is still very deep, you can’t go down into the valley on your own two feet.
Very interesting,' purred Poirot.
Looks like the commissioner had the right information. Marrasco has an appointment here, and he has made sure that nothing gets in the way.
Just fantastic! exclaimed Poirot.
I agree, - Drouet spread his hands. - Common sense is not a penny here, and yet! Marrasco is generally a great original. I think he's crazy.
Madman and murderer?
An unpleasant personality, to be sure, - dryly dropped Drouet.
But if he made an appointment here, in the middle of nowhere, a meeting, then he must have already arrived - the message is interrupted.
I know,” said the inspector calmly.
Both were silent.
How about Dr. Lutz? Could he be Marrasco? asked Poirot at last.
I don't think so, Drouet shook his head. - Dr. Lutz is a well-known and respected specialist. I've seen pictures of him in the papers and I must say our doctor looks a lot like them.
If Marrasco knows how to change appearance, he could well achieve the desired resemblance.
That's it - if. The ability to transform is a special gift. It requires the cunning and cunning of the snake. And Marrasco is rather a ferocious beast, rushing headlong into battle.
But still…
You are right,” Drouet hastened to agree. “He's on the run and, whether you like it or not, has to disguise himself, so he'll probably try to change his appearance somehow.
Do you know his signs?
In general terms, - shrugged Drouet. - Photo and description according to the Bertillon system Bertillon Alphonse(1853-1914) - French lawyer, author of a system of methods for judicial identification of a person - by handwriting, fingerprints, etc. I was supposed to send today. I only know that he is over thirty, taller than average, swarthy, there are no special signs.
That description fits just about anyone,” Poirot shrugged his shoulders. - And how do you like this American, Schwartz?
I was just about to ask you about it. You talked to him, and as far as I understand, you had to communicate a lot with the British and Americans. Looks like a typical tourist. His passport is in order. It is strange, of course, that he climbed here, but Americans are generally unpredictable. What do you think yourself?
Poirot shook his head in concern.
At least outwardly, he seems to be a harmless person, although he is too intrusive. He, of course, a bore, but hardly a danger. Here are three friends...
The inspector, perking up, nodded.
Yes, these three are just right ... I swear, Monsieur Poirot, that they are from the Marrasco gang. You can immediately see - bugs from the hippodrome. Maybe one of them is Marrasco.
Poirot mentally imagined three horsemen.
One had a broad face with bushy eyebrows and a double chin - well, the spitting image of a boar. The second was wiry and thin, his face was narrow, with sharp features, his eyes were cold, the third was pale and even foppish.
Yes, one of them could well be Marrasco himself, but the question immediately arose: why?
Why would Marrasco go on a journey with two of his accomplices and climb into this mousetrap? The meeting could obviously have been arranged in a less dangerous place - in a cafe, at a train station, in a crowded cinema, in a park - where it would be impossible to block all the passages and exits, and not on a snowy peak.
He outlined his thoughts to Drouet.
It's all right, he readily agreed. - Looks really pointless.
If the meeting is here,” continued Poirot, “then why did they come together? This is some nonsense.
Then let's discuss another option: these three are gang members and arrived to meet with their leader.
But who is he?
What is the hotel staff like? asked Poirot. "There is no staff as such," Drouet shrugged. - There is an old woman who cooks and her husband Jacques. They've been here for fifty years. There was also a waiter whose place I took, that's all.
The manager, of course, knows who you are?
Certainly. I need his assistance.
Don't you think he looks worried?
This remark made Drouet think.
Yes, perhaps, he said.
Perhaps, of course, this is the usual anxiety of a person involved in a police operation.
But do you think it's not just that? Do you think he knows something?
I'm just thinking out loud.
Yes, a riddle,” Drouet said gloomily. - Do you think you can get it out of him? he asked after a pause.
Poirot shook his head.
I think it's better for him not to know about our suspicions," he warned. Just keep your eyes on him.
Drouet nodded and moved towards the exit.
Perhaps you have some ideas, Monsieur Poirot? Your talents are known to all. We are here in Switzerland, and we have heard a lot about you.
I have nothing to say yet,” Poirot admitted, frowning. “I don’t understand why they had to meet here. To tell the truth, I don't understand why they decided to meet.
Most likely because of the money, - Druz briefly explained, - So poor Salle was not only killed, but also robbed?
Yes, he had a large sum of money.
And they meet in order to share them?
At least that's the first thing that comes to mind.
Poirot shook his head skeptically.
But why here? You won't find a worse place for a gangster gathering. But it is in such a place that you can come to meet a woman ...
Drouet leaned forward sharply.
You think?..
I think, said Poirot, that Madame Grandier is a very beautiful woman. For her sake, you can climb up to three thousand meters, if she asks about it.
A curious thought, Drouet admitted. “I just didn't think of anything like that. She's been coming here for several years now.
Yes," said Poirot softly, "and therefore her presence will not cause misunderstandings. Maybe Rocher Nezh was chosen for this reason?
It's an idea, Monsieur Poirot," Drouet fired up. - I'll take care of it.
4
The day passed without incident. Fortunately, the hotel had a solid supply of everything you need, and the manager assured that there was no cause for concern.
Poirot tried to strike up a conversation with Dr. Lutz, but was turned down the gate. The Doctor has made it clear that psychology is his trade, and he does not intend to gossip on these topics with dilettantes. Sitting in a corner, he studied a thick German treatise on the subconscious, making lengthy extracts.
Poirot went out for a walk and then wandered into the kitchen.
There he struck up a conversation with old Jacques, but the latter was sullen and wary. Fortunately, his wife, the cook, turned out to be more talkative. She said that they have plenty of canned food, although she herself does not favor them.
Dear, but there is almost nothing. And in general, it’s not godly to eat from tins.
Gradually the conversation turned to the hotel staff. Poirot found out that maids and other waiters were arriving at the beginning of July, but there were hardly any guests for the next three weeks. So far, people are heading back after dinner, so he and Jacques and the only waiter are doing just fine.
Was there another waiter here before Gustave? asked Poirot.
There was one fool. Couldn't really do anything.
The waiter is called!
How long did he stay with you?
What is there! A week has not passed since he was asked from here.
Did he protest? asked Poirot.
No, he packed his things, and was like that. What could he expect? We have a respected institution, the service staff must be at the level.
Poirot nodded.
And where did he go? - he asked.
The cook shrugged.
This Robert? We must think back to your miserable cafe.
Did he take the funicular down?
Well, yes. How else?
Did anyone see him leave?
Both the cook and her husband looked at Poirot with open astonishment.
What do you think, we should see off all sorts of clumsy with a brass band? We have enough to do.
You are right,” agreed Poirot, and walked slowly away, looking up at the building hanging over him. A large hotel, and there is only one residential wing. Other compartments are full of locked rooms with closed shutters, where hardly anyone will go...
Rounding the corner of the building, Poirot nearly collided with one of the three gamblers. Pale eyes looked at Poirot indifferently. Only the mouth, like that of a restive horse, twisted slightly, revealing yellow teeth.
Poirot passed by and saw in the distance the tall, graceful figure of Madame Grandier.
Slightly quickening his pace, he overtook her and said:
This breakdown of the funicular is not at the right time. I hope, madam, this has not caused you any inconvenience?
It makes absolutely no difference to me,” the woman replied in a deep contralto voice, without looking at Poirot. Turning abruptly, she headed through the small side door to the inn.
5
That evening Poirot went to bed early, but shortly after midnight he was awakened by strange noises.
Someone fiddled with the door lock.
Poirot sat up in bed and turned on the light. At that moment, the lock gave way, and the door swung open. On the threshold stood three gamblers, obviously tipsy. The expression in his alcohol-clouded eyes did not bode well. A straight razor blade flashed.
The tallest moved forward, swearing:
Seeker, that means! Oh well! Right now we will sign you, there will be no living place left. You are not the first today.
All three calmly and busily approached the bed. Shiny razors...
And then from behind the bandits came a pleasant baritone with a characteristic overseas reprimand:
Well, guys, hands!
Turning around, they saw Schwartz on the threshold in bright striped pajamas, with a pistol in his hands.
It is said - hands, - he repeated. - I can shoot.
The bullet whistled over the very ear of the hefty bandit and dug into the window frame.
Three pairs of hands instantly shot up.
May I disturb you, Monsieur Poirier? said the American to Poirot.
Jumping out of bed, Poirot picked up the razors and, after searching the bandits, made sure that they had no other weapons.
Let's go! Schwartz ordered. - There is a great closet in the hallway. No windows, just what you need.
Having brought the captives to the closet and locked the door behind them, Schwartz turned to Poirot and joyfully began to frequent:
Well, what's it like? You know, Monsieur Poirier, in Fauptin Springs, some people laughed at me when I said that I was taking a pistol with me. “Where,” they said, “are you going? Jungle? And what? He who laughs last laughs best. Well, the vile audience, I will report to you!
My dear Mr. Schwartz, you have arrived just in time,” said Poirot, thanking him. - Such a scene would do honor to any performance. I am your eternal debtor.
Ah, nonsense. Well, what do we do now? We should hand these guys over to the police, but the police don't. Maybe we can talk to the manager?
With the manager ... - drawled Poirot. - I think it's better with the waiter Gustave - he's Inspector Drouet. Don't be surprised, Gustave is actually a policeman.
So, then, why are they ... - Schwartz said dumbfounded.
Who are "they" and what did they do?
Those bandits! You were second on the list. Before that, they cut Gustave.
Let's go. The doctor is working on him now.
Drouet lived in a small room under the roof. Dr. Lutz, in a dressing gown, was bandaging the wounded person's face.
He turned to Schwartz and Poirot, who had entered.
Ah, it's you, Mr. Schwartz. This is just an atrocity!
What heartless monsters!
Drouet lay motionless and groaned weakly.
Is there no danger? Schwartz asked.
No, he won't die, if that's what you mean, but it's better for him to talk less and not worry. I treated all the wounds, so I think there will be no infection.
Together they left the room.
Did you say that Gustave is a police officer? Schwartz stated.
Poirot nodded.
And what did he do in Rocher Neige?
Tried to track down a dangerous criminal.
In a few words Poirot explained the state of affairs.
Marrasco? Dr. Lutz was surprised. - I read about him in the papers. Wouldn't mind meeting this guy. He has very deep anomalies in the psyche. Learn more about his childhood...
As for me, said Poirot, I would like to know where he is at the moment.
Isn't he one of those we locked in the closet? Schwartz asked.
Possibly,” said Poirot without much confidence, “but ... I have one idea ...
He stopped and looked at the carpet. There were rusty brown spots on the light yellow surface.
Footprints, said Poirot. - I think there was blood on the soles, and they come from an uninhabited wing of the hotel. Faster, follow me!
They rushed through the revolving door into a dark, dusty corridor, turned a corner, and finally the footprints led them to a half-open door.
Poirot flung it open, entered the room - and could not restrain a cry of horror.
The bed against the wall was dismantled, on the table was a tray of food. And on the floor near the table lay a man who had been killed with sophisticated cruelty. He had many wounds on his arms and chest, and his head and face were turned into a bloody mess.
Schwartz gasped and turned away. It looked like he was about to vomit.
Dr. Lutz exclaimed something in German with horror.
I think, said Poirot, that here he was known as Robert, a rather mediocre waiter...
Lutz stepped closer, leaned over the body and pointed to a piece of paper pinned to the dead man's chest. On it was scrawled:
"MARRACO WILL NOT KILL ANYMORE I WON'T DECEIVE FRIENDS."
Marrasco?! Schwartz exclaimed. - So it was Marrasco! But why was he brought into this hole for his sake? And why did you call him Robert?
He pretended to be a waiter here,” explained Poirot, “but he was a bad waiter, so no one was surprised when they gave him the calculation and disappeared. Everyone assumed that he had returned to Aldermatt, but no one saw him leave.
And what do you think happened? Dr. Lutz asked in his booming voice.
I think that before us is the one because of whom the manager was so alarmed. Marrasco bribed him to let him hide in this part of the hotel...
True, the steward was not delighted with this, oh, not delighted, - added Poirot.
And no one but the manager knew that Marrasco lived in this wing?
Looks like no. It's quite possible, you know.
And why was he killed? Dr. Lutz asked. - And who killed him?
They found out where he was, and paid off - like this. - Schwartz touched the dead body with the toe of his boot.
Yes," muttered Poirot, "it was not quite the meeting we had imagined.
All these "hows" and "whys" are very interesting, - Dr. Lutz said irritably, - but When will all this end?
Yes, and we also have three criminals locked in a closet, - added Schwartz. - Nice posture!
So what should we do? - continued to bend his Dr. Lutz.
First, you need to find a manager, - said Poirot. - It is unlikely that he is a criminal, although he is greedy for money. Moreover, he is a coward, and therefore will do everything that we tell him.
We will identify the three intruders where they can be kept until help arrives. I think we'll need Mr. Schwartz's gun again.
And I? What am I to do? Dr. Lutz asked.
You, doctor,” said Poirot sternly, “will do everything in your power for your patient. The rest will be on the lookout. Will wait. There is nothing left for us.
6
In the early morning three days later, a small group of people appeared in front of the hotel.
Hercule Poirot opened the door for them with a sweeping gesture.
Welcome, mon vieux.
Police Commissioner Lemanguey hugged Poirot tightly.
Ah, my friend, how glad I am to see you! What have you been through! And how we worried about you, not knowing what was going on here. There is no telegraph, it is impossible to contact you. It was a brilliant idea to signal us with sunbeams.
Well, what are you, - Poirot said modestly. - In the end, when technology fails, you have to rely on nature. The sun is almost always in the sky.
The whole group proceeded in single file to the hotel.
Are we not expected here? Lemantheus smiled grimly.
Of course not! Poirot smiled back. - Everyone thinks that the funicular is still broken.
This is a great day, - Lemantey said with feeling. - So you think there can be no doubt? Is this really Marrasco?
Marrasco, no doubt. Come with me.
They moved up the stairs. The door opened, Schwartz looked out in a dressing gown and stared in amazement at the newcomers.
Help has arrived! said Poirot pompously. - Come with us. The great hour has come, - and rushed upward.
Are you going to Drouet? Schwartz asked. How is he, by the way?
Dr. Lutz said he felt good last night.
They went to the door of Drouet's room. Poirot opened it and announced:
Here is your wild boar, gentlemen. Lively.
Now take him and make sure he doesn't get away from the guillotine.
The man lying in bed with his face bandaged rushed, but the police had already grabbed him.
But this is Gustave, the waiter, - exclaimed the dumbfounded Schwartz, - that is, Inspector Drouet.
Yes, Gustave - but not Drouet. Drouet was the previous waiter, Robert. He was kept in an uninhabited wing of the hotel, and Marrasco killed him on the very night that they attacked me.
7
You see, - Poirot condescendingly explained to the completely confused American at breakfast, - there are things that a professional sees right away: for example, the difference between a detective and a criminal. Gustave wasn't a waiter - I knew that right away - but he wasn't a policeman either. I've been dealing with the police all my life and I know what's what. He could pass for a policeman in front of anyone, but not in front of someone who himself served in the police.
This immediately made me suspicious. That evening, instead of drinking coffee, I poured it out - and I was right. At night they visited me, and this man was clearly sure that I would not wake up, drugged with sleeping pills. He rummaged through my things and found in my wallet a letter that I left there on purpose. Gustave brought me my morning coffee the next morning. He called me by name and acted as if nothing had happened. But he was worried, very worried, because he knew that the police were on his trail. The fact that they found out where he was was a terrible blow to him. This violated all his plans - he ended up in a mousetrap.
It was stupid to come here, - said Schwartz. Why did he need it?
Not as stupid as it might seem. He needed to be in a secluded place, cut off from the whole world, in order to meet a certain person and do something.
What person?
Doctor Lutz.
Doctor Lutz? Is he a crook too?
No, Dr. Lutz is really a doctor, but not a psychiatrist, but a surgeon, my friend, a specialist in plastic surgery, but now he is in a foreign land without a livelihood. He was offered a lot of money to come here and give one person plastic surgery. Perhaps he guessed that this man was a criminal, but chose to close his eyes to it. See, they couldn't afford to stay in a sanitarium. No, they were safest here, where there was no one before the start of the season, and the manager was easy to bribe.
But, as I said, their plans were violated.
Someone betrayed Marrasco. His three bodyguards, who were supposed to be by his side, had not yet arrived, but he began to act immediately. He tied up a police officer posing as a waiter, locked him in a non-residential wing of the hotel, and took his place himself. Meanwhile, his accomplices ruined the funicular. This was done to buy time. The next evening they killed Drouet, mutilated his face beyond recognition, and pinned a note to his chest. They hoped that by the time the message was restored, Drouet would be buried like Marrasco. Dr. Lutz operated on him without delay. Everything. They had to silence one more person - Hercule Poirot - and the trick was in the bag. Marrasco's bodyguards burst into my room, and if not for you, my friend...
With these words, Poirot gave Schwartz a formal bow.
So you really are Poirot? he asked.
Indeed.
And you weren't fooled for a second by the note on the corpse? Did you know all along that this is not Marrasco?
Of course he knew.
But why didn't you say anything?
Poirot's tone suddenly became very solemn.
Because I wanted to be sure that I would deliver Marrasco alive into the hands of the police.
“That I will capture the Erymantic boar alive,” he added to himself.
Nemean lion. - Lernaean hydra. - Keriney doe. - Erymanthian boar. - Augean stables. - Stymphalian birds. - Cretan bull. - Horses of King Diomedes. - Belt of the Amazon Queen. - Bulls of Gerion. - Apples of the Hesperides. - The descent of Hercules into Hades after Kerberos.
nemean lion
Victory over Nemean lion was the first labor of Hercules.
A terrible lion raged in Nemea, devastating the whole country.
Hercules, obeying the order of Eurystheus, went to liberate the country from this monster.
But the Nemean lion was invulnerable, no weapon could kill him. In vain did Hercules put all the arrows of his quiver into the Nemean lion - they did not even pierce the skin of this monster. Hercules tried in vain to strike the Nemean lion with his terrible club - it shatters from the blow, and the beast remains unharmed.
Finally, Hercules drove the Nemean lion into a cave, entered into a fight with him and strangled him with his hands. Hercules took off the skin of a terrible beast, and even in this form she terrified people. According to some myths of ancient Greece, Hercules wore the skin of a Nemean lion all the time instead of clothes.
The struggle of Hercules with the Nemean lion was depicted very often on coins and vases of the ancient period of antiquity; several of these vases are in the museum at the Louvre.
Gerion was huge and had three heads and three bodies fused together.
The herds of red bulls belonging to Gerion were guarded by the giant Eurytion and the dog Orfr. This dog Orff was the brother of Kerberos (Cerberus), the guardian of the kingdom of the dead, and the son of Typhon.
As soon as Orff saw Hercules, he rushed at him, followed by the giant Eurytion. Hercules killed both the dog Orff and the shepherd Eurytion, the servants of the three-headed Gerion, and began to steal the bulls, when the “triple” Gerion appeared before him. A terrible struggle ensued between them, ending for Hercules with a new victory.
Many ancient vases and bas-reliefs depict the battle of Hercules with the three-bodied and three-headed Gerion.
Apples of the Hesperides
In the myth of apples of the Hesperides tells about eleventh labor of Hercules.
During the feast in honor of the marriage of the goddess Hera (Juno) with (Jupiter), all the gods bestowed rich gifts.
The goddess Gaia, or Earth, gave Hera a tree covered with golden apples.
This tree was placed in the Hesperides Garden, which belonged to the daughters of Titan Atlanta - the Hesperides. A terrible dragon guarded this tree and its fruits - the apples of the Hesperides.
Eurystheus ordered Hercules to get him the golden apples of the Hesperides.
Hercules went for golden apples, but on the way he quarreled with one of the sons of the god Ares (Mars) and killed him. Then the angry god of war rushed at Hercules, and it is not known how this terrible battle would have ended if Zeus had not put an end to it, setting in motion a thunder that dispersed the fighters.
To find the way to that distant country where the famous Hesperides Garden was located, Hercules, following the advice, went to the sea deity, the elder Nereus. Hercules forced Nereus by force to tell him which way to go there.
On the way, Hercules saw the Titan Atlas, supporting the vault of heaven. Hercules offered Atlanta to replace him and hold the vault of heaven on his shoulders, while Atlanta went to the garden and brought him the golden apples of the Hesperides from there.
The titan agreed and brought apples from the Hesperides garden, but did not want to take the heavy vault of heaven on his shoulders again.
Then Hercules, pretending to agree to continue to support him, asked Atlas to replace him until Hercules got a pillow to put on his shoulder. Having thus deceived the Titan Atlas, Hercules left.
There are several bas-reliefs depicting Hercules replacing Atlanta.
The stay of Hercules in the garden of the Hesperides served as the plot for many works of art.
Descent of Hercules into Hades after Kerberos
The twelfth labor of Hercules- This is a myth about the descent of Hercules into the underworld for the dog Kerberos (Cerberus).
Eurystheus, seeing that Hercules always returns victorious, no matter how difficult the tasks he asks him, finally sent him to the kingdom of the dead to God (Pluto) to bring the dog Kerberus (Cerberus) to him from there.
It was a very dangerous undertaking, but even then Hercules did not hesitate to do what was required of him.
Arriving in Laconia, where the entrance to the kingdom of shadows was, Hercules descended into Hades.
Seeing Theseus there, Hercules freed him, killed one of the cows of the god Pluto and gave her the blood of the souls of the dead to drink.
Then Hercules received permission from Pluto to take away the dog Kerberus if he achieves this without using weapons.
Hercules found Kerberus on the banks of the Acheront, tied him up and carried him to show Eurystheus, who, terribly frightened by the sight of such a monster, ordered Hercules to immediately take Kerberus back to the kingdom of shadows.
12 exploits
On many monuments of ancient art, all twelve labors of Hercules are depicted at once, but their order is not always the same, and besides, their number is different. This comes from the fact that in the era of late antiquity, they tried to bring the number of various labors of Hercules into line with the twelve signs of the zodiac.
ZAUMNIK.RU, Egor A. Polikarpov - scientific editing, scientific proofreading, design, selection of illustrations, additions, explanations, translations from ancient Greek and Latin; all rights reserved.
