Arion was a famous musician who lived at the court of Periander, King of Corinth. He wished to compete for the prize in the musical contest, celebrated in Sicily in honor of Apollo. But Periander, who loved the musician, dreaded to have him go so far away. Arion entreated him, saying,—“I wish to make the people better and happier by the gift which the gods have given me. It is my duty to Apollo to sing in his honor.”

So Arion went to Sicily, and his music was so excellent and so sweet that he won the great prize. The gold and the laurel wreath were put on board the ship, and he embarked for home. Wind and wave were favorable, the sky was clear. He gave thanks to Apollo for his good fortune, and promised to offer sacrifices in the temple.

The wicked sailors, however, knew that Arion had a large amount of gold and jewels in his chests. They gathered around him and told him that he must die.

“Do you want my gold?” he asked. “That you may have and welcome, but spare my life.”

But the sailors did not dare let him go to Periander, knowing that the king loved him and would have them punished for the robbery. They said they would kill him in the ship, or he might plunge into the sea. Arion was brave and chose to give his life to the waves. He dressed as if going to a festival, with his handsomest garments, his jewels, and a crown of golden laurel leaves. Taking his lyre, he played so exquisitely that even the cruel sailors were moved to pity, but the thought of his gold hardened their hearts.

As he plunged beneath the waves, a dolphin, charmed by his music, offered its broad back for him to ride upon.

The sailors thought him drowned and continued on their way. Meanwhile Arion journeyed on, singing and playing as he went. The dolphin bore him safely to the shore. He reached Corinth, and told his friend Periander of the treachery of the sailors.

When the ship arrived, the sailors landed and were conducted to the palace. “Where is Arion?” asked Periander. “Has he not returned?” The sailors replied that he was safe in Tarentum.

At this moment Arion appeared, tall and handsome, wearing elegant robes and shining jewels. Amazed to see one whom they believed dead, the sailors fell on their knees and cried,—“We murdered him, and he has become a god! O earth, open and receive us!”

“Yes,” replied the king, “the gods delight to honor the poet, and they have saved the life of one whose music charms all hearts but yours. Arion does not desire your death. Go, avaricious souls, and never know the joy that beauty and music can bring.”