taught him to shoot the silver bow with sure aim. Apollo
welcomed this simple life: it wakened all his desires, and
roaming the mountain paths beside his friend fed the
fire of his love. Everything he had, Apollo put before
Hyacinthus; everything he did, he shared with him. When
the sun drove his chariot across the sky, the god coached
Hyacinthus in gymnastics, pouring raw strength into his
young body, and he even taught him to ride one of his
sacred swans, soaring and plunging through the sky at will,
left the boy breathless with delight. When night drew her
veil over the land, Apollo revealed to the prince the secret
ways of divination, taught him music as well, until rippling
melodies rolled easily off the boy's lyre. Hyacinthus was
filled with wonder at these awesome arts, skills undreamt
by man. He mastered them one by one, and passed them
on to his friends in turn, so that, thanks to him, mortals
came to learn what only the gods had known. Hyacinthus
spent all his time by Apollo's side, and his confidence grew
with every passing day.
down with blinding glare. The windless plain shimmered
in the heat. The two stripped naked, sleeked their skin
with smooth olive oil, the better to glisten in the light,
and stepped out into the field. Zephyrus, invisible, was
watching closely, his heart poisoned by jealousy. Apollo
gathered his might, spun, hurled the heavy metal disk.
It rose swift as a bird, cleaving the clouds in two, showing