What is the meaning of Hans Memling’s Allegory of Chastity? This painting, from 1475, is obviously deeply symbolic. A young woman is encased in rock, which seems to have shot up in shards around her, skywards, leaving only her upper half emerging. Within her petrified confines, the woman is strangely serene, with her hands resting on her stomach. The landscape has an ethereal quality, and there are two lions bearing gold shields, and a stream, at the base of the rock formation. As an allegory of chastity, the image makes sense up to a point: no one is likely to get past those lions, or the rock casing, to threaten the woman's purity. If this situation has been imposed on her, then we might speculate that a woman guarded by lions and encased in rock has little freedom to make a choice, so that in this painting, chastity could be about removing moral agency all together. Alternatively, these features can be understood metaphorically, as demonstrations of the woman's virtue and resolve. These lions may symbolise courage, strength, and power. The rock, also, can be associated with power, but also with isolation, stability, or solitude. Perhaps the stream represents purification and renewal, or even the boundary between the woman's world, and ours.
This reading of Memling's painting aligns with medieval and Renaissance traditions of Marian imagery, particularly the Hortus Conclusus (Enclosed Garden), a motif associated with the Virgin Mary’s purity. The surrounding elements, the lions, the flowing water, the harmonious landscape, further reinforce this idealised vision of spiritual integrity. Is there, however, perhaps also another layer of meaning, beyond the moral allegory, making reference to the stars, and Mother Earth? Beneath this conventional interpretation, the painting reveals a far older and more complex symbolic language. The imagery of rock, water, and celestial alignment resonates with traditions that predate Christianity, suggesting links to ancient mythologies of cosmic balance, transformation, and time itself. The enclosed figure, rather than merely representing moral chastity, may be part of a long tradition of divine figures associated with the constellation Ophiuchus, the serpent-bearer, and to deities associated with earth, mediation, fertility, time, and transcendence. By exploring these connections, we can attempt to uncover an underlying continuity in symbolic thought, one that stretches from Cybele and Attis to the celestial patterns of the night sky and the medieval imagination.
Constellations encoded in art, religion and myth
Researcher David Warner Mathisen has observed that in some historical paintings, various figures and elements in the composition can sometimes be read as corresponding to a particular constellation (2). For example, a rock or pillar, often in the centre, can stand in for the constellation Ophiuchus, the Serpent Bearer. The huge snake which Ophiuchus carries is technically a separate constellation, Serpens.
A female figure to the left of this feature might be connected to the constellation Virgo, or perhaps a figure below the rock or pillar might have characteristics that can be associated with Scorpio. The constellation Ophiuchus might also correspond to a central figure in the painting, facing us, perhaps winged, or holding an item in each hand. David Warner Mathisen uses the constellation outlines produced by H.A. Rey, which allow us to see more clearly than most other modern outlines the connection between the patterns of stars and the person or animal associated with them. The depiction of Ophiuchus above shows Scorpio at its feet, and the archer to the left (Sagittarius) and weighing scales to the right (Libra). the depiction below shows Ophiuchus in relation to the Milky Way, the two white bands to the left, like a stream the figure has his or her foot in, and also in relation to the ecliptic, the pathway of the sun and planets across the sky. The ecliptic is shown as a horizontal dotted line.
To the top right of Libra, the weighing scales, is the constellation Virgo, and to the top right of Virgo is Leo, the lion. The star map below shows Ophiuchus in the circle to the right, standing on Scorpio, with Virgo to the right.
In the painting by Titian below, Diana and Callisto, the arrangement of the figures could be understood as constellations, as per David Warner Mathisen's research: Sagittarius to the left, the Milky Way through the centre, symbolised by the trickling water and the stream, Virgo the main figure to the right, with arm outstretched, just like the constellation, and perhaps Scorpio is the dog. The group of figures to the left might be related to Sagittarius, with the archer's bow being similar in shape to the cloth lifted up by the woman furthest to the left. The central pillar in all this, with the mysterious carvings on its side, would be Ophiuchus.
There are many possible ways in which these particular constellations can be interpreted to be encoded in the elements of art. For example, in the image of the Archangel Michael below, from a church in Spain, the Archangel corresponds to Ophiuchus, standing facing us, with a slightly triangular arrangement about the head, and the shape of the wings echoing the shape of the constellation Serpens, the snake carried by Ophiuchus. The devil, with the spear in its mouth, corresponds to Scorpio, the weighing scales to Libra.
The arrangement of these elements changes from interpretation to interpretation: sometimes the scales are absent, more usually the devil's head is to the right, and sometimes it is a dragon instead of the devil. David Warner Mathisen has observed that often, Ophiuchus derived characters in art carry something in each hand, perhaps a spear or a staff. This can be seen in images of Saint Patrick and Saint George, both dragon slayers like Saint Michael. Saint Patrick, for example, is historically always shown facing us, often with a staff in one hand and a shamrock or book in the other, standing above a collection of snakes or a lion, both being in the place of the constellation Scorpio. In the image opposite, the saint points down to the heads of three snakes, positioned where the head of the dragon or devil would be under the Archangel Michael. To the left, there is water, just where the Milky Way is in relation to Ophiuchus, though it also comes down to Ophiuchus's feet. Saint George is often shown on horseback, and the outline of the constellation Serpens can be interpreted as the top of the horse. Saint George also spears the dragon below him in the mouth, or neck.
Churches dedicated to Saint Michael, Saint Patrick, Saint George, and Saint Mary are sometimes associated with rocky or hill-top places, and so this provides an additional connection to Ophiuchus as a constellation which is sometimes linked to a rock or pillar in art. It is possible that the constellation Ophiuchus was associated with rock, be it caves, high places, or the living rock that is mother earth. There are many paintings and statues of the Archangel Michael (17th century), many of which were modelled on the Ophiuchus - Scorpio - Libra section of the night sky. Others seem to have been closer to the constellations Perseus, or Orion (1). Often, in western Europe, a church dedicated to Saint Michael is found quite close to a church dedicated to Saint Mary, as if they are a pair. At Lalibela, in Ethiopia, there is a church to Saint George and another to Saint Mary. The frequent association of Mary and Michael, or George and Mary, in sacred landscapes hints at a once-unified belief system that recognised a maternal Earth goddess and her guardian-son or consort.
Another figure who directs the tip of a spear into the mouth of a giant reptile is Set, in the Egyptian tradition. Here, Set accompanies the sun god Ra on his solar barque, and fights off the serpent of Chaos, Apep (Apophis). Set is the son of Geb, the Earth, and Nut, the Sky
In this context, it is interesting to note that the star Antares, the brightest in Scorpio, is compatible with being the mouth of the creature represented by Scorpio.
Yet another type of Ophiuchus connection can be found in the crowned hermaphrodite image below, with the central character facing us, holding something in each hand, winged, and standing on a dragon, which has something in its mouth. Another possible connection that can be made, comparing these various works of art, is that Ophiuchus derived characters can be an androgynous young man, an Archangel, which has no gender, or in this case, a hermaphrodite. It is curious that certain sanctuaries dedicated to St Michael now, in Italy, were once dedicated to another divine figure, Attis.
Attis was a Phrygian deity, the son, or consort, of Cybele, the Great Mother goddess, and god of vegetation, death, and rebirth, often depicted as a beautiful but tragic figure. Though he is not associated with slaying dragons, Attis is, like Set, associated with Mother Earth. Cybele was sometimes seen as a mountain, and as androgynous, embodying both male and female traits. Attis, through castration, symbolically transcended gender, and his priests (the Galli) ritually castrated themselves to emulate him. Both Attis and Cybele were worshipped in rocky, wild places. Attis also is connected to stone, in that after his death, he was transformed into a rock - or a pine tree in other versions.
In some art, a female figure takes the place of Ophiuchus, such as in this mosaic, from Pompei, interpreted by David Warner Mathisen, as Hercules, Ophiuchus, Scorpio and Hydra.
In the painting below, also, the Virgin, who might more commonly be associated with the constellation Virgo, to the right of Ophiuchus, seems to be derived from Ophiuchus itself. The respite at her feet may correspond to Scorpio. She may also be interpreted as Virgo, and the child in her arms as the star Spica, the brightest star in Virgo.
The constellation Ophiuchus therefore can be associated with androgynous male, hermaphrodite or female figures, or figures with no gender, and also rock. These figures are usually depicted as facing us, in the very centre of the composition.
Another interesting aspect of the constellation Ophiuchus, which is sometimes present in art encoding Ophiuchus and neighbouring constellations, is that the Milky Way and the ecliptic cross at a point just below the foot that we see to the left (his right foot) a point technically in the constellation Sagittarius. This is also close to the centre of the galaxy. So it is curious in some art to see water at that place in the composition. This was the case in the Titian mentioned above, for example.
And yet another aspect of Ophiuchus which is sometimes included in art is that this constellation is a link between our horizon and the north celestial pole, partly because of its size, partly because its vertical lines. In this sense, it can be connected to the axis around which our earth turns, producing night and day, or even another cycle, which is much longer, the cycle of axial precession, which lasts just under 26 000 years. In the image below, a tortoise is at the bottom, and above it a central pillar of stone, being turned around by a giant serpent, held by various divine figures. To the top of the rock is a seated figure, cross-legged. This image represents axial precession. The churning of the Ocean of Milk is an important part of Indian myth, in which a mountain, Mount Mandara, is uprooted and used as the churning rod, to churn the Milky Ocean. Vasuki, a naga on Shiva's neck, becomes the churning rope after being promised that he would get his share. As Mount Mandara is enormous and starts to sink to the bottom of the ocean, Vishnu, in the form of his Kurma avatara, goes to the rescue and supports the mountain on his shell. In this story, Vishnu corresponds to Ophiuchus, and to Scorpio, as the turtle, and the serpent Vasuki is Serpens.
Vishnu, one of the principal deities of Hinduism, embodies creation, preservation, and the maintenance of cosmic order, roles that align with the serpent-mastering figures associated with Ophiuchus. Just as Set spears Apep to uphold Ma’at, cosmic order, Vishnu combats the forces of chaos, most notably in his cosmic battle against the serpent-demon Kaliya. His consort, Lakshmi, is strongly linked to the Earth, fertility, and abundance, much like Cybele. Vishnu’s iconography also shares Ophiuchus-like elements: he is often depicted standing tall, holding his divine weapons, including the discus (symbolic of celestial cycles) and the mace (a pillar-like form representing strength and stability). In temples, Vishnu and Lakshami are frequently shown within vertical structures, including pillars and sacred rocks, reinforcing this connection to the axis mundi, the cosmic axis that links the heavens and the earth. This parallel suggests that the same Ophiuchus-related traits found in other mythologies, mastery over chaos, mediation between realms, and association with vertical or pillar-like forms, are also present in Vishnu’s divine imagery.
The constellation Ophiuchus appears to serve as a unifying element across a variety of mythological and religious traditions, linking figures such as Saint Michael, Saint George, Saint Patrick, Attis, Horus, and even Cybele. This constellation, often depicted as a standing figure wrestling with a serpent, carries themes of duality, balance, and transcendence. It represents an archetypal force that mediates between order and chaos, life and death, stability and transformation. There is also a connection to axial precession, with Ophiuchus corresponding to the central axis of this circular motion. This can be seen most clearly in the story of the churning of the milky ocean, in Indian tradition, but the strong vertical lines in many other Ophiuchus derived images, from Saint Michael to the crowned hermaphrodite, the mosaic at Pompei to Titian's Diana and Callisto, suggest the axis of rotation is present there too.
Ophiuchus as the Axis of an Ancient Tradition
Ophiuchus serves as a symbolic axis linking diverse cultural interpretations of balance and transcendence. In many traditions, the serpent-wrestling figure represents an intermediary between opposing forces, order and chaos, mortality and immortality. This theme appears in Greco-Roman mythology, where Asclepius, also associated with Ophiuchus, bridges the realms of life and death. In Christian tradition, figures such as Saint Michael and Saint George similarly act as cosmic balancers, subduing serpentine adversaries to maintain harmony. Across various cultural contexts, Ophiuchus emerges as a representation of spiritual elevation through struggle, reinforcing a shared mythological thread that underscores transformation and enlightenment.
Ophiuchus is often connected to rock, mountains, and sacred high places. This link is evident in the numerous sanctuaries dedicated to Saint Michael that are positioned on hilltops, a trait shared with earlier sanctuaries devoted to Cybele and Attis. The link to rock is not incidental, it reflects an enduring association between sacred figures and the solidity, permanence, and isolation of stone. Attis, after all, is transformed into stone after his death, mirroring the mythological tendency for deities associated with rebirth to become petrified.
This theme of transcendence through struggle and sacrifice also connects Ophiuchus to figures who "tame" chaos, Michael slays the dragon, George spears the beast, Set fights Apep. These stories share an underlying cosmological function: they position their heroes as guardians of order, suppressing or harmonising destructive forces. Scorpio, located beneath Ophiuchus in the night sky, often takes the role of the adversary, appearing in various myths as the dragon, serpent, or monstrous being that must be subdued.
Yet, Ophiuchus is not simply a warrior, there is a significant androgynous or hermaphroditic aspect to figures linked with this constellation. Attis, a consort of the Great Mother Cybele, is castrated and reborn, transcending traditional gender roles. This echoes the broader tradition of Ophiuchus figures displaying both masculine and feminine characteristics, often portrayed as youthful and enigmatic. Michael, in some depictions, has an almost androgynous beauty, and some traditions of Horus, like Attis, emphasise his role as a youthful divine figure born of a great mother.
Time, in its most fundamental and mysterious sense, has long been associated with the sky. In Greek tradition, Chronos embodies time, while the separation of heaven and earth marks the beginning of cosmic order. Plato’s Timaeus describes the demiurge crafting the cosmos by creating two celestial motions: the fixed stars, moving in one grand cycle, and a second divided circle governing the movements of the sun, moon, and five planets. This duality echoes the balance Ophiuchus represents the struggle between stillness and motion, eternity and transformation. The myth of Set, whose father is often linked to time, and the Churning of the Milky Ocean, which symbolises precession and the slow turning of the fixed stars, further reinforce this connection. Could Ophiuchus itself be an ancient deity of time, or the son of heaven and earth bridging the celestial and terrestrial realms? This would fit with the role of the Archangel Michael being a link between earth and heaven. This enigmatic constellation may represent the very process of cosmic regulation, the interplay of stellar cycles, and the human attempt to grasp the infinite through myth and symbol.
The Archangel Michael, often depicted as a warrior and protector, also serves as a psychopomp, guiding souls between the earthly and divine realms. This role aligns strikingly with the celestial position of Ophiuchus, whose foot rests at the Golden Gate, the point where the Ecliptic and the Milky Way intersect, believed in ancient traditions to be the gateway for souls returning to Earth to reincarnate (though this would not be a Christian belief, but many ancient traditions do accept the concept of reincarnation). In contrast, the Silver Gate, located above Orion in Taurus, was thought to be the exit point, where souls ascended toward the divine. This cosmic cycle of ascent and descent mirrors Michael’s function as both a bridge between mortal and divine and a guardian of the transitions between life, death, and rebirth. If Ophiuchus figures across art and mythology embody this celestial crossing, then depictions of Michael slaying the dragon, weighing souls, or standing at the threshold of the afterlife may also be expressions of this same universal archetype, one that encodes not just Christian eschatology, but an ancient and enduring vision of the soul’s journey through the cosmos. So if Ophiuchus is linked to time, it is also linked to cyclical time, and the cycle of life, death and rebirth.
Memling’s Allegory of Chastity: A Hidden Tradition?
Given the weight of these ancient associations, it is possible that Hans Memling’s Allegory of Chastity encodes more than a simple moral lesson. The central figure, encased in rock, resembles the Earth Mother archetype, akin to Cybele. Yet her posture and serene isolation also call to mind Ophiuchus, a figure simultaneously bound and transcendent. The lions guarding her may represent the constellation Leo, which is often found in proximity to Ophiuchus in star-mapping traditions. The stream at the base, meanwhile, aligns with the Milky Way’s celestial path, frequently depicted as flowing water in symbolic art.
The central figure could be interpreted as embodying both Virgo and Ophiuchus, a pairing that reflects the dual nature of an ancient mother-earth archetype. She could also be interpreted simply as Ophiuchus, as the great mother goddess, Cybele, who is associated with a mountain. The cliffs encasing her are reminiscent of Ophiuchus, often depicted in Renaissance and medieval art as a rock or natural formation. The two lions below her recall protective symbols frequently associated with sacred feminine figures, from Cybele to the Virgin Mary. To the left, a town and distant mountainous landscape provide further geographical context, reinforcing the connection between sacred topography and celestial imagery.
The stream at the base of the rock formation in Memling’s Allegory of Chastity is far more than a simple landscape detail, it serves as a symbolic representation of the Milky Way, the celestial river that weaves through the night sky. This imagery subtly anchors Ophiuchus within its cosmic context, as the constellation's foot is positioned precisely where the Milky Way and the Ecliptic intersect, at the so-called Golden Gate, an ancient portal through which souls were believed to descend to Earth for reincarnation. Directly across the sky lies the Silver Gate, another crossing point of the Milky Way and Ecliptic, just above Orion’s outstretched hand, completing the cosmic cycle of descent and ascent. The slow 26,000-year cycle of axial precession causes all constellations, including Ophiuchus, to rotate around the North Celestial Pole, the pivot point of the heavens. Intriguingly, the very heart of our galaxy, the Galactic Centre, lies at the foot of Ophiuchus, technically within Sagittarius, reinforcing its role as a celestial guardian standing at the threshold of the great cosmic axis. Through the presence of the stream, Memling’s painting may encode this profound astronomical and mythological knowledge, depicting not just a secluded figure in nature, but a representation of an eternal cosmic drama unfolding across the heavens.
The image of a seated goddess flanked by two lions dates back at least to 6000 BC, as seen in the Seated Woman of Çatalhöyük, one of the earliest known depictions of a divine mother figure. This ancient motif, later embodied in Cybele, suggests a continuity of an Earth Mother archetype from prehistory through to the classical world. Cybele, often called the "Mother of the Mountain," was depicted with lions as her attendants, symbolising both her dominion over nature and her untamed, primordial power. The same iconography appears in Memling’s Allegory of Chastity, where the central female figure sits encased in stone, flanked by guardian animals, echoing Cybele’s enduring imagery. This motif of a mother goddess enthroned between powerful beasts, be they lions, leopards, or sphinxes, recurs across civilisations, linking the Ophiuchus tradition not only to celestial and serpentine symbolism but also to the deep-rooted reverence for a goddess who emerges from, or is, the earth itself. The idea of the goddess as "born from stone" reinforces her role as both nurturer and unyielding force, a presence that has shaped religious iconography for millennia.
Memling was perhaps exposed to these symbolic traditions through the artistic and intellectual networks of the late medieval period, particularly via the influx of classical and Byzantine influences into Western Europe. Many of the motifs in Allegory of Chastity, the enclosed female figure, the juxtaposition of rock and water, and the presence of guardian animals, find echoes in both earlier Christian and pre-Christian iconography. Similar themes appear in depictions of the Virgin Mary as the Hortus Conclusus (Enclosed Garden), a motif with roots in both medieval Marian devotion and ancient fertility goddesses. The symbolic language of isolation, transformation, and cosmic mediation may thus reflect an inherited tradition that Memling, consciously or unconsciously, wove into his work.
Thus, rather than merely portraying chastity in the conventional medieval sense, Memling’s painting might be tapping into a much older symbolic framework, one in which the Virgin, the Earth Mother, and the constellation Ophiuchus merge into a single enduring archetype. This would suggest that, even in the late 15th century, artists were still engaging with an ancient tradition that predated the formalised religious structures of Christianity, drawing from a symbolic language that stretched back to the time of Cybele, Attis, and beyond.
Conclusion
The recurring presence of Ophiuchus-derived figures across different cultures and time periods suggests a profound continuity in symbolic thought, as seen in their shared attributes of serpent mastery, cosmic mediation, and androgynous or transformative qualities. Whether through the rock-bound Attis, the dragon-slaying Michael and George, or the androgynous celestial figures of antiquity, the same motifs resurface, reinterpreted to fit the dominant religious and mythological narratives of their eras.
Memling’s Allegory of Chastity, viewed through this lens, may be more than a simple Christian allegory, it may be an echo of a tradition far older, one that recognised the interplay of earth, stars, and the human struggle to mediate between chaos and order. If so, then the young woman encased in stone is not just an emblem of purity, but a representation of an archetype stretching across millennia, a silent witness to an ancient and celestial belief.
There is an irony in associating Memling’s figure with chastity, given that the Earth Mother, whether Cybele, Gaia, or other maternal deities, was never a symbol of restraint, but of abundant procreation, though not necessarily in a way which would be at variance with notions of chastity. Cybele herself, though often linked to purity in later interpretations, was a goddess of wild fertility, passion, and untamed nature. Even the birth of Attis reflects this complexity: Cybele conceived him not through conventional means, but when an almond (or in some versions, a pomegranate) fell from a sacred tree and entered the womb of Nana, his mother. This myth highlights the paradox, chastity and fertility, separation and creation, are inextricably intertwined, making Memling’s image all the more enigmatic.
The presence of constellations encoded in art suggests that painters, particularly in the Renaissance, may have received a sophisticated education that included an understanding of astronomy, mythology, and symbolic traditions passed down from antiquity. While little is explicitly documented about such a secret tradition, to my knowledge, its evidence appears across numerous artistic forms, from Greek vases to the works of masters like Memling and Titian. Time and again, we find the same regions of the sky subtly depicted: Virgo, Ophiuchus, Sagittarius, Hercules, Perseus, Taurus, and Andromeda, woven into compositions that reveal celestial alignments and mythological archetypes. Once you see it, you know it is there, and you can see it in other works of art. Though modern scholars rarely discuss this encoding, independent researchers such as David Warner Mathisen have explored the possibility that this knowledge was deliberately embedded in artwork for centuries. If so, it may represent an unbroken lineage of esoteric wisdom, stretching from the ancient world through the Renaissance. However, in the last two centuries, this practice appears to have faded, leaving us to wonder whether modern art has simply lost touch with these cosmic references, or whether the tradition continues in ways yet to be fully understood.
Notes
See https://www.mercurialpathways.com/post/michael-in-art-which-constellation
David Warner Mathisen, 2019, The Ancient World-Wide System: Star Myths of the World, Volume One, Beowulf Books
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