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Writer's pictureTeam Dramaturg

The Daughters of Cadmus: Autonoe

The Short Version: The first male heir to the Theban throne after Cadmus is turned into a deer and torn apart by his own hounds on the same mountain Oedipus is abandoned on. Artemis, a goddess invoked within the play, is the one responsible.


Red-figure bell-krater depicting Actaeon mid-metamorphosis, attended by Artemis, Zeus and Lyssa (the personification of madness), 450 BC. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

Gauging the birth order of most Greek sibling sets is an inexact art, but one can hazard a guess that Autonoe was the eldest of Cadmus’ children. Of her little is known save that she was married to Aristaeus, a sometimes-divine and sometimes-mortal figure associated with beekeeping and pastoral pursuits. What is important is that she had a son: Actaeon. It is with Actaeon that the House of Cadmus well and truly begins its patterns of transformation and where we will see a new character introduced: Mount Cithaeron.


Actaeon loved nothing more than hunting and there was no finer pursuit, in his mind, than ranging that mountain’s glens and wooded paths, an arrow nocked to his bow and his eyes on the lookout for game with his pack of loyal hunting-hounds at his heels, each one perfectly trained, perfectly groomed, sleek and efficient killers. The herdsman of Oedipus Rex probably took his wailing charge by the same paths as Actaeon, escorting baby Oedipus through the same woods his ancestor once called his own, lived and died in.


Some accounts (namely a lost Aeschylus tragedy, Hydrophoroi) say Actaeon lusted after his aunt Semele and the competition (Zeus) struck him down. Euripides Bacchae notes him as having boasted of being a better hunter than Artemis herself, but the most common version of the first death in the House of Cadmus goes a little differently (as documented in an entirely different and equally lost Aeschylean tragedy, Toxotides or Maiden Archers). On one of his hunts, it is said, Actaeon’s keen eyes found something other than a deer in the brush. Unseen and hidden in thorny briars, Actaeon found himself gazing upon the goddess Artemis bathing in a pond.


A virgin goddess and protective of her privacy, Artemis was (unsurprisingly) not pleased about this turn of events. Upon seeing Actaeon, the goddess’ wrath rose quick and swift. The Lady of Beasts narrowed her eyes and with a thought, wrought her vengeance.

Antlers erupted from underneath Actaeon’s hair, dense fur overtook smooth skin, and his hands and feet hardened and split into hooves. His screams turned to bellows, his words to inarticulate noise as Actaeon now stood on four legs as a stag. But Artemis was nowhere near finished, and she looked over the hounds that Actaeon had brought with him.

“Kill,” said the goddess.


And the dogs did. And so Actaeon, son of Autonoe, grandson of Cadmus became the first heir to the Theban throne to transform and to die on Mount Cithaeron. He would not be the last.


- Emma


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