- Parnassus
- Python.org

Notes

- Hesiod
- Ovid

[She] created thus enormous Python.---Thou unheard of serpent spread so far athwart the side of a vast mountain, didst fill with fear the race of new created man. ---Ovid, Metamorphosis

Behold! A very great mountain lifts itself from the ancient lands of Greece: its name is called Parnassus. The Muses danced there. At the roots of this great rock Parnassus, there it was that mighty Python found form, the vast guardian serpent. Then the Titan called Themis charged massive Python to hold the fast to her Oracle---in that green valley lands, known as Delphi, beneath the shadows of great Parnassus.

At last the golden god Apollo came there in his wanderings, and saw how excellent it was. Fierce Python sensed him, and scraped forth to challenge him, to head him off. The sound of his fantastic skin tore and cracked the stone where he passed through the caves in tremendous coils. Some stories assert titanic Python was covered in scales like impenetrable polished bronze. Others claim that he breathed fire. No thing could withstand him and live once he had taken irresistible, crushing hold. The whole mountain trembled at his progress.

But the young god Apollo did not fear---for is he not also known as the Far-Darter? His bow, of pure silver, was readied, and from his quiver carefully he drew an arrow---the arrows of Apollo do not miss. The missile streaked towards its mark, the behemoth god-spawned snake, Python. The arrows of Apollo do not miss, and it did not miss; but neither could even the eagle-eyed arrow of the Far-Darter god extinguish the superphysical vitality of great Python's endless rippling muscle. The serpent came on!

More hastily did Apollo draw another arrow, and again shot. The arrows of Apollo do not miss! Yet still fearful Python storms enraged ahead. Another arrow, and another! Can even the glorious son of Zeus feel the momentary clutch of terror? Bloody and stabbed, immense Python does not relent. Was he not born for this? The thundering distance rapidly closes. Who could imagine this grim fate? Who could face such an encompassing adversary? Arrow after arrow sank into the sinewy and powerful, encircling hide. Can awesome Python feel no pain? Blood like a river streams behind him, it splatters into the air in his wake. The quiver had emptied. Apollo had spent every precious arrow. The arrows of Apollo do not miss---but did the arrows of Apollo ever need be so many? History scarce records how the god's arms ached, and breath rattled, in a desperate sweat: the last arrow, now set in the silver bow, was all this, and more which can not be imagined nor told, when suddenly the electric, reverberant air fell silent. Python, fantastic Python, mighty Python, at last, so greatly pierced, fell, dead.

The king-god Zeus was full of wrath on hearing of magnificent Python's slaying. Apollo must needs be punished for this deed!---but our tale takes not this path. Back under Parnassus, the Titan Themis saw all, and fled. Who can stand against who stands against mighty Python? Apollo claimed the Oracle for himself as trophy and due. There he proclaimed would be each year games and feats of skill and strength displayed to commemorate the epic struggle; all of this came to pass, and were called the Pythian Games. From around the world, Kings have heaped tribute there, ever seeking the wisdom and knowledge of that, the greatest Oracle known: Delphi, in the valley, beneath the shadow of the great mountain Parnassus---where mighty Python stalked. All this happened long ago.

Now a new rumour has found its breath upon the winds which blow out of the desert wastes. A new distinctive Python has come, it whispers. Were not those chasms and vaults beneath towering Parnassus, where for ages great Python crept and roamed and kept watch, not overlooked? Did not the glories of the Oracle of the golden god Apollo not steal away all eyes? What treasures---what offspring---might enormous Python have hidden there? What vast wealth has lain scattered and untapped within endless tracks of deep Parnassus. Let us turn for now from the overgrown Oracle, and dig in to this neglected mountain trove! Let us learn of this new Python, and see whether the gods have made us friend or foe. Let us discover together what clues can be found---let us share in the wealth accumulated! Let us with exuberance rejoice---at last, again, for all, the Vaults of Parnassus shall be opened wide. A new age, the age of a new mighty Python, is upon us.

Chastened, golden Apollo's quiver is empty. Great Python shall be with us redeemed.