Age of Fable or Beauties of Mythology Page 6

  This story explains the allusion in one of Milton's sonnets, "On the detraction

  which followed upon his writing certain treatises."

  "I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs

  By the known laws of ancient liberty,

  When straight a barbarous noise environs me

  Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs.

  As when those hinds that were transformed to frogs

  Railed at Latona's twin-born progeny,

  Which after held the sun and moon in fee."

  The persecution which Latona experienced from Juno is alluded to in the story.

  The tradition was that the future mother of Apollo and Diana, flying from the wrath of

  Juno, besought all the islands of the Aegean to afford her a place of rest, but all feared

  too much the potent queen of heaven to assist her rival. Delos alone consented to

  become the birthplace of the future deities. Delos was then a floating island; but when

  Latona arrived there, Jupiter fastened it with adamantine chains to the bottom of the sea,

  that it might be a secure resting-place for his beloved. Byron alludes to Delos in his Don

  Juan: -

  "The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece!

  Where burning Sappho loved and sung,

  Where grew the arts of war and peace,

  Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprun

  Chapter V: Phaeton

  Phaeton was the son of Apollo and the nymph Clymene. One day a schoolfellow

  laughed at the idea of his being the son of the god, and Phaeton went in rage and

  shame and reported it to his mother. "If," said he, "I am indeed of heavenly birth, give

  me, mother, some proof of it, and establish my claim to the honor." Clymene stretched

  forth her hands towards the skies, and said, "I call to witness the Sun which looks

  down upon us, that I have told you the truth. If I speak falsely, let this be the last time I

  behold his light. But it needs not much labor to go and inquire for yourself; the land

  whence the Sun rises lies next to ours. Go and demand of him whether he will own

  you as a son." Phaeton heard with delight. He travelled to India, which lies directly in

  the regions of sunrise; and, full of hope and pride, approached the goal whence his

  parent begins his course.

  The palace of the Sun stood reared aloft on columns, glittering with gold and

  precious stones, while polished ivory formed the ceilings, and silver the doors. The

  workmanship surpassed the material; ^* for upon the walls Vulcan had represented

  earth, sea and skies, with their inhabitants. In the sea were the nymphs, some sporting

  in the waves, some riding on the backs of fishes, while others sat upon the rocks and

  dried their sea-green hair. Their faces were not all alike, nor yet unlike, - but such as

  sisters' ought to be. ^* The earth had its towns and forests and rivers and rustic

  divinities. Over all was carved the likeness of the glorious heaven; and on the silver

  doors the twelve signs of the zodiac, six on each side.

  [Footnote *: See Proverbial Expressions, page 477.]

  Clymene's son advanced up the steep ascent, and entered the halls of his

  disputed father. He approached the paternal presence, but stopped at a distance, for

  the light was more than he could bear. Phoebus, arrayed in a purple vesture, sat on a

  throne which glittered as with diamonds. On his right hand and his left stood the Day

  the Month, and the Year, and, at regular intervals, the Hours. Spring stood with her

  head crowned with flowers, and Summer, with garment cast aside, and a garland

  formed of spears of ripened grain, and Autumn, with his feet stained with grape-juice,

  and icy Winter, with his hair stiffened with hoar frost. Surrounded by these attendants,

  the Sun, with the eye that sees every thing beheld the youth dazzled with the novelty

  and splendor of the scene, and inquired the purpose of his errand The youth replied,

  "O, light of the boundless world, Phoebus, my father, - if you permit me to use that

  name, - give me some proof, I beseech you, by which I may be known as yours." He

  ceased; and his father, laying aside the beams that shone all around his head, bade

  him approach, and embracing him, said, "My son, you deserve not to be disowned,

  and I confirm what your mother has told you. To put an end to your doubts, ask what

  you will, the gift shall be yours. I call to witness that dreadful lake, which I never saw,

  but which we gods swear by in our most solemn engagements." Phaeton immediately

  asked to be permitted for one day to drive the chariot of the sun. The father repented

  of his promise; thrice and four times he shook his radiant head in warning. "I have

  spoken rashly," said he; "this only request I would fain deny. I beg you to withdraw it.

  It is not a safe boon, nor one, my Phaeton, suited to your youth and strength. Your lot

  is mortal, and you ask what is beyond a mortal's power. In your ignorance you aspire

  to do that which not even the gods themselves may do. None but myself may drive

  the flaming car of day. Not even Jupiter, whose terrible right arm hurls the

  thunderbolts. The first part of the way is steep, and such as the horses when fresh in

  the morning can hardly climb; the middle is high up in the heavens, whence I myself

  can scarcely, without alarm, look down and behold the earth and sea stretched

  beneath me. The last part of the road descends rapidly, and requires most careful

  driving. Tethys, who is waiting to receive me, often trembles for me lest I should fall

  headlong. Add to all this, the heaven is all the time turning round and carrying the

  stars with it. I have to be perpetually on my guard lest that movement, which sweeps

  every thing else along, should hurry me also away. Suppose I should lend you the

  chariot, what would you do? Could you keep your course while the sphere was

  revolving under you? Perhaps you think that there are forests and cities, the abodes

  of gods, and palaces and temples on the way. On the contrary, the road is through the

  midst of frightful monsters. You pass by the horns of the Bull, in front of the Archer,

  and near the Lion's jaws, and where the Scorpion stretches its arms in one direction

  and the Crab in another. Nor will you find it easy to guide those horses, with their

  breasts full of fire that they breathe forth from their mouths and nostrils. I can scarcely

  govern them myself, when they are unruly and resist the reins. Beware, my son, lest I

  be the donor of a fatal gift; recall your request while yet you may. Do you ask me for a

  proof that you are sprung from my blood? I give you a proof in my fears for you. Look

  at my face, - I would that you could look into my breast, you would there see all a

  father's anxiety. Finally," he continued, "look round the world and choose whatever

  you will of what earth or sea contains most precious, - ask it and fear no refusal. This

  only I pray you not to urge. It is not honor, but destruction you seek. Why do you

  hang round my neck and still entreat me? You shall have it if you persist, - the oath is

  sworn and must be kept, - but I beg you to choose more wisely."

  He ended; but the youth rejected all admonition, and held to his demand. So,

  having resisted as long as he could, Phoebus at last led the way to where stood the

  lofty chariot.

  It was of gold, the gift of Vulcan; the axle was of gold, the pole and wheels of


  gold, the spokes of silver. Along the seat were rows of chrysolites and diamonds,

  which reflected all around the brightness of the sun. While the daring youth gazed in

  admiration, the early Dawn threw open the purple doors of the east, and showed the

  pathway strewn with roses. The stars withdrew, marshalled by the Daystar, which last

  of all retired also. The father, when he saw the earth beginning to glow, and the Moon

  preparing to retire, ordered the Hours to harness up the horses. They obeyed, and led

  forth from the lofty stalls the steeds full fed with ambrosia, and attached the reins.

  Then the father bathed the face of his son with a powerful unguent, and made him

  capable of enduring the brightness of the flame. He set the rays on his head, and, with

  a foreboding sigh, said, "If, my son, you will in this at least heed my advice, spare the

  whip and hold tight the reins. They go fast enough of their own accord; the labor is to

  hold them in. You are not to take the straight road directly between the five circles, but

  turn off to the left. Keep within the limit of the middle zone, and avoid the northern and

  the southern alike. You will see the marks of the wheels, and they will serve to guide

  you. And, that the skies and the earth may each receive their due share of heat, go

  not too high, or you will burn the heavenly dwellings, nor too low, or you will set the

  earth on fire; the middle course is safest and best. ^* And now I leave you to your

  chance, which I hope will plan better for you than you have done for yourself. Night is

  passing out of the western gates and we can delay no longer. Take the reins; but if at

  last your heart fails you, and you will benefit by my advice, stay where you are in

  safety, and suffer me to light and warm the earth." The agile youth sprang into the

  chariot, stood erect and grasped the reins with delight, pouring out thanks to his

  reluctant parent.

  [Footnote *: See Proverbial Expressions, page 477.]

  Meanwhile the horses fill the air with their snortings and fiery breath, and stamp

  the ground impatient. Now the bars are let down, and the boundless plain of the

  universe lies open before them. They dart forward and cleave the opposing clouds,

  and outrun the morning breezes which started from the same eastern goal. The

  steeds soon perceived that the load they drew was lighter than usual; and as a ship

  without ballast is tossed hither and thither on the sea, so the chariot, without its

  accustomed weight, was dashed about as if empty. They rush headlong and leave the

  travelled road. He is alarmed, and knows not how to guide them; nor, if he knew, has

  he the power. Then, for the first time, the Great and Little Bear were scorched with

  heat, and would fain, if it were possible, have plunged into the water; and the Serpent

  which lies coiled up round the north pole, torpid and harmless, grew warm, and with

  warmth felt its rage revive. Bootes, they say, fled away, though encumbered with his

  plough, and all unused to rapid motion.

  When hapless Phaeton looked down upon the earth, now spreading in vast

  extent beneath him, he grew pale and his knees shook with terror. In spite of the glare

  all around him, the sight of his eyes grew dim. He wished he had never touched his

  father's horses, never learned his parentage, never prevailed in his request. He is

  borne along like a vessel that flies before a tempest, when the pilot can do no more

  and betakes himself to his prayers. What shall he do? Much of the heavenly road is

  left behind, but more remains before. He turns his eyes from one direction to the

  other; now to the goal whence he began his course, now to the realms of sunset which

  he is not destined to reach. He loses his self command, and knows not what to do, -

  whether to draw tight the reins or throw them loose; he forgets the names of the

  horses. He sees with terror the monstrous forms scattered over the surface of heaven.

  Here the Scorpion extended his two great arms, with his tail and crooked claws

  stretching over two signs of the zodiac. When the boy beheld him, reeking with poison

  and menacing with his fangs, his courage failed, and the reins fell from his hands. The

  horses, when they felt them loose on their backs, dashed headlong, and unrestrained

  went off into unknown regions of the sky, in among the stars, hurling the chariot over

  pathless places, now up in high heaven, now down almost to the earth. The moon

  saw with astonishment her brother's chariot running beneath her own. The clouds

  begin to smoke, and the mountain tops take fire; the fields are parched with heat, the

  plants wither, the trees with their leafy branches burn, the harvest is ablaze! But these

  are small things. Great cities perished, with their walls and towers; whole nations with

  their people were consumed to ashes! The forest-clad mountains burned, Athos and

  Taurus and Tmolus and Oete; Ida, once celebrated for fountains, but now all dry; the

  Muses' mountain Helicon, and Haemus; Aetna, with fires within and without, and

  Parnassus, with his two peaks, and Rhodope, forced at last to part with his snowy

  crown. Her cold climate was no protection to Scythia, Caucasus burned, and Ossa

  and Pindus, and, greater than both, Olympus; the Alps high in air, and the Apennines

  crowned with clouds.

  Then Phaeton beheld the world on fire, and felt the heat intolerable. The air he

  breathed was like the air of a furnace and full of burning ashes, and the smoke was of

  a pitchy darkness. He dashed forward he knew not whither. Then, it is believed, the

  people of Aethiopia became black by the blood being forced so suddenly to the

  surface, and the Libyan desert was dried up to the condition in which it remains to this

  day. The Nymphs of the fountains, with dishevelled hair, mourned their waters, nor

  were the rivers safe beneath their banks; Tanais smoked, and Caicus, Xanthus and

  Meander. Babylonian Euphrates and Ganges, Tagus with golden sands, and Cayster

  where the swans resort. Nile fled away and hid his head in the desert, and there it still

  remains concealed. Where he used to discharge his waters through seven mouths

  into the sea, there seven dry channels alone remained. The earth cracked open, and

  through the chinks light broke into Tartarus, and frightened the king of shadows and

  his queen. The sea shrank up. Where before was water, it became a dry plain; and

  the mountains that lie beneath the waves lifted up their heads and became islands.

  The fishes sought the lowest depths, and the dolphins no longer ventured as usual to

  sport on the surface. Even Nereus, and his wife Doris, with the Nereids, their

  daughters, sought the deepest caves for refuge. Thrice Neptune essayed to raise his

  head above the surface, and thrice was driven back by the heat. Earth, surrounded as

  she was by waters, yet with head and shoulders bare, screening her face with her

  hand, looked up to heaven, and with a husky voice called on Jupiter.

  "O, ruler of the gods, if I have deserved this treatment, and it is your will that I

  perish with fire, why with hold your thunderbolts? Let me at least fall by you hand. Is

  this the reward of my fertility, of my obedient service? Is it for this that I have supplied

  herbage for cattle, and fruits for men, and frankincense for your altars? But if I am

  unworthy of regard, what ha
s my brother Ocean done to deserve such a fate? If

  neither of us can excite your pity, think, I pray you, of your own heaven and behold

  how both the poles are smoking which sustain your palace, which must fall if they be

  destroyed. Atlas faints, and scarce holds up his burden. If sea, earth, and heaven

  perish, we fall into ancient Chaos. Save what yet remains to us from the devouring

  flame. O, take thought for our deliverance in this awful moment!"

  Thus spoke Earth, and overcome with heat and thirst, could say no more. Then

  Jupiter omnipotent, calling to witness all the gods, including him who had lent the

  chariot, and showing them that all was lost unless some speedy remedy were applied,

  mounted the lofty tower from whence he diffuses clouds over the earth, and hurls the

  forked lightnings. But at that time not a cloud was to be found to interpose for a screen

  to earth, nor was a shower remaining unexhausted. He thundered, and brandishing a

  lightning bolt in his right hand launched it against the charioteer, and struck him at the

  same moment from his seat and from existence! Phaeton, with his hair on fire, fell

  headlong, like a shooting star which marks the heavens with its brightness as it falls,

  and Eridanus, the great river, received him and cooled his burning frame. The Italian

  Naiads reared a tomb for him, and inscribed these words upon the stone: -

  "Driver of Phoebus' chariot, Phaeton,

  Struck by Jove's thunder, rests beneath this stone.

  He could not rule his father's car of fire,

  Yet was it much so nobly to aspire."

  His sisters, the Heliades, as they lamented his fate were turned into poplar trees,

  on the banks of the river and their tears, which continued to flow, became amber as they

  dropped into the stream.

  Milman, in his poem of Samor, makes the following allusion to Phaeton's story: -

  "As when the palsied universe aghast

  Lay . . . mute and still,

  When drove, so poets sing, the Sun-born youth

  Devious through Heaven's affrighted signs his sire's