In Corinth there lived a young prince named Bellerophon. He was handsome, strong, and skilled with sword and spear. He had everything he needed to become a great hero.

But one day, during the athletic games, a tragedy occurred. Bellerophon killed a man by accident — some versions say it was his own brother. It had been an accident, but a life was lost, and the law was harsh.

"You have killed," said the authorities. "You must be exiled."

And Bellerophon left Corinth, ashamed and sorrowful.

Bellerophon traveled to Tiryns, a city ruled by King Proetus.

"Great king," he said, "I killed without meaning to. I ask for purification and shelter."

Proetus was kind. He took the young man in, performed the rites of purification, and washed the guilt of blood from him. Bellerophon stayed on at the palace, and everyone liked him, for he was courteous and respectful.

But the queen, the wife of Proetus, began to care for Bellerophon in a way she should not have. Her name was Stheneboea, and she wanted him for herself.

"Bellerophon," said Stheneboea one day, "run away with me. Leave this kingdom. We will be happy."

Bellerophon was horrified.

"My queen, I am your husband's guest. I would never betray him. It would be dishonor. I cannot, and I will not."

"You refuse me?" said Stheneboea, furious.

Bellerophon withdrew respectfully. But the queen, burning with anger and shame, went to her husband with a terrible lie.

"Proetus," she wept, "Bellerophon tried to win me from you. He meant to betray you in your own house."

Proetus was enraged, but he faced a dilemma. The laws of hospitality were sacred in Greece: to kill a guest was sacrilege, and the gods would punish it. Yet he could not leave unpunished the man who, he believed, had insulted his wife. So the king had a cruel idea.

"Bellerophon," he said, "I need you to carry a message to King Iobates, of Lycia. He is my father-in-law. Deliver this sealed letter, and do not open it."

Bellerophon, suspecting nothing, accepted the task.

What Bellerophon did not know was what the letter said. In it, Proetus told his father-in-law that the bearer of the message had insulted his wife, but that he could not kill him, since the man was his guest. And he asked Iobates to do what he himself could not, and put an end to Bellerophon.

The young man traveled untroubled to Lycia and delivered the letter. Iobates read it... and fell into the same trap as his son-in-law. Bellerophon was now his guest, and the same sacred laws protected him.

Then Iobates had an idea. He would give the young man an impossible mission. Bellerophon would die attempting it, and no law of hospitality would have been broken.

"Bellerophon," said Iobates, "my kingdom suffers. A terrible monster torments us: the Chimera. It has the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and a tail that is a venomous serpent. And it breathes fire from its mouth. It devours flocks, burns fields, kills people. If you defeat it, you will be richly rewarded."

Bellerophon had never heard of such a creature, but he accepted at once. And Iobates thought, with satisfaction, that no one survived the Chimera.

Before setting out, though, Bellerophon went to pray in the temple of Athena.

"Goddess of wisdom, how can I defeat a monster that breathes fire? If I come close, I will be burned. If I stay far, I cannot strike."

He fell asleep right there, in the temple. And he dreamed. Athena appeared before him.

"Bellerophon, you are honorable, and I will help you. To defeat the Chimera, you must attack from where it cannot reach. You need Pegasus."

"Pegasus?" he asked.

"The winged horse, born from the blood of Medusa when Perseus defeated her. He lives in the mountains, white as snow, with the wings of an eagle. No one has ever tamed him, for he is wild and free. But this magical golden bridle will calm him. Use it."

When Bellerophon woke, a gleaming golden bridle lay at his side. It had been no mere dream. Athena had truly come.

Bellerophon climbed into the mountains and searched for days. Until he saw him: Pegasus, magnificent, pure white, with enormous wings, drinking from a crystal spring.

Bellerophon approached slowly. Pegasus raised his head and spread his wings, ready to fly.

"Easy," said Bellerophon, his voice gentle. "I will not hurt you."

Pegasus beat his wings, but Bellerophon was quick and slipped the golden bridle over him. In that same moment, the horse grew calm. The magical bridle had worked. Bellerophon mounted, and Pegasus did not resist.

Up they went together, high, and higher still. The wind in his face, the clouds sweeping past, the world tiny far below.

"We're flying!" shouted Bellerophon, laughing with joy.

Man and horse flew together for days, training, learning to understand each other, becoming friends.

When he felt ready, Bellerophon went hunting the Chimera. He flew over the scorched fields until he sighted it: the lion's head roaring, the goat's body powerful, the serpent tail hissing.

The Chimera saw them and bellowed, and a ball of fire rose toward them. Pegasus swerved in the air, nimble as a bird. The monster spat more fire, and more, and more, but it could not hit them: they were flying.

Bellerophon leveled his spear. Pegasus dove, and the thrust struck the goat's body. The Chimera roared with pain and rage, but did not fall. Then Bellerophon had a better idea. From his pack he drew a lump of lead he had brought with him.

"Pegasus, once more!"

They dove again and, when the Chimera opened its mouth to spit fire, Bellerophon hurled the lead down the monster's throat.

The Chimera's own fire melted the lead, which ran, liquid and burning, down the monster's throat. The creature choked, tried to spit, and could not. It staggered, shuddered, and fell, lifeless. The impossible Chimera was dead, and Bellerophon had won.

Bellerophon returned in triumph.

"King Iobates, the Chimera is dead!"

Iobates could hardly believe it. He set other impossible missions, and Bellerophon won them all with the help of Pegasus: he fought the warrior people of the Solymi and prevailed, faced the Amazons and prevailed. At last the king understood that this man was protected by the gods, and that to harm him would be sacrilege. So he showed Bellerophon the letter and explained everything.

Bellerophon was stunned by the betrayal. But Iobates said to him:

"You have proven your virtue. You have proven you are a hero. Marry my daughter and rule half my kingdom."

Bellerophon accepted. He married, had children, and became famous and respected. He seemed to have everything.

But then pride began to grow inside him. He had slain the Chimera, conquered the impossible, and he rode the winged horse. He began to think himself greater than other mortals. And the pride kept poisoning his heart, until one day he thought: if he was so great, he deserved to stand among the gods. He would fly to Olympus and become immortal.

It was hubris, the pride that goes too far. Bellerophon had forgotten he was only a man.

He mounted Pegasus and ordered him to climb to Olympus. The horse hesitated, sensing that this was wrong, but Bellerophon insisted and forced him on. And up they went, higher than ever before, toward the mountain of the gods.

Zeus saw it all from the heights of Olympus. A mortal dared to climb there uninvited, carried by his own pride. The king of the gods did not hurl a thunderbolt: he sent only a gadfly, a small biting fly.

The gadfly stung Pegasus. The horse startled and reared in midair, and Bellerophon was thrown from his back.

"Pegasus!" he cried as he fell.

And he fell, and fell, and fell from the sky.

Bellerophon did not die, but the fall was terrible. He landed in thorn bushes and was left blind and lame. Pegasus, free, flew on alone to Olympus, where he became the horse of Zeus.

Bellerophon spent the rest of his life wandering alone, far from other men. The great hero who had slain the Chimera ended his days in sadness, not because of monsters, but because of his own pride.