This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading is by James Pease. Bullfinch's Mythology, The Age of Fable, by Thomas Bullfinch. Chapter 5. Phaeton Phaeton was the son of Apollo and the nymph Climene. One day a school fellow laughed at the idea of his being the son of a god. Phaeton went in rage and shame and reported it to his mother. If, he said, I am indeed of heavenly birth, give me, mother, some proof of it, and establish my claim to the honor. Climene stretched forth her hands toward the sky 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, once the sun rises, lies next to ours.  Phaeton heard with delight. He traveled to India which lies directly in the regions of sunrise and, full of hope and pride, approached the goal once his parent begins his course. The palace of the sun stood rear to loft on columns, glittering with gold and precious stones, while polished ivory formed the ceilings and silver the doors. The workmanship surpassed the materials. For the walls, Vulcan had represented the earth, sea, and skies with their inhabitants. In the sea were 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 unalike, but such as sisters ought to be. The earth had its towns and forests and rivers and rustic divinities. Overall was carved the likeness of the glorious heaven, and on the silver doors the twelve signs of the zodiac, six on each side. Climini'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 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.  Surrounded by these attendants, the sun, with the eye that sees everything, 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.  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 feign deny. I beg you to withdraw it. It is not a safe boon, nor one, my Phaeton, suited to your youth and strength. You are laud as mortal, and you ask what is beyond the 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 day is steep, and such is the horses when fresh in the morning can hardly climb. The middle is high up in the heavens. Once 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. Thrice, 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 everything else along should hurry me also away. Suppose I should lend you the chariot. What would you do? Could you keep the course while the sphere was revolving under you? Perhaps you think that there are forests and cities, the abodes of the gods, and the 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 arm in one direction and the crab in another. Nor will you find it easier to guide the 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 rains. 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 were sprung from my blood? I give you a proof in my fears for you.  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 crystallites and diamonds which reflected all around the brightness of the sun. While the daring youth engaged in admiration, the early dawn threw open the purple doors of the east and showed the pathway strewn with roses. The stars withdrew, marshaled by the day star, 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 bade at the faith of his son with a powerful unguent and made him careful of enduring the brightness of the flame. He set the rays on his head and with a foreboding sigh said, If sun, 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 to turn off to the left. Keep within the limit of the middle zone and avoid the northern and 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 the 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 it lasts your heart fails you and you will benefit from my advice. Stay where you are in safety and suffer me to light and warm the earth. The agile youth sprang to the chariot, stood erect and grasped the reins with delight, pouring out thanks to his reluctant parent. 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 clowns and outrun the morning breezes, which started from the same eastern goal. The steed soon perceived that the load they drew is lighter than usual and as a ship without ballast distaste hither and tither on the sea, so the chariot, without its accustomed weight, was dashed about as if empty. They rush headlong and leave the traveled 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 feign, if it were possible, have plunged into the water. And the serpent, which lies coiled up around the north pole, torpid and harmless, were warm and with warmth felt its rage revive. Boetes, they say, fled away, though encumbered with his plow 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 than but takes 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 once 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 the 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 in 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 earth, the moon saw with astonishment her brother's chariot running beneath her own. The clouds began to smoke and the mountaintops 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. Aethos and Tauros and Tomolos and Oete, Aida, once celebrated for her fountains, but now all dry. The muses mountain, Helicon, and Hamas, Etna, with fires within and without, and Parnassas with his two peaks, and Rodope, forced at last apart with his snowy crown. Her cold climate was no protection to Skithia, 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 pitchy darkness. He dashed forward and knew not whither. Then it is believed. The people of Ethiopia 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 disheveled hair mourned their waters, nor were the rivers safe beneath their banks. Tanias smoked, and the Caicos, Xanthus, and Meander, Babylonian Euphrates and Ganges, Tegas with golden sands, and Keister with the swan's 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 tartarous, and frightened the king of shadows and his queen. The sea shrank up. Where before it 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 assayed 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 the 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 withhold your thunderbolts? Let me at least fall by your hand. Is this the reward of my fertility, of my obedience service? Is it for this that I have supplied herbage for cattle and fruits for men, and frankincense for your alters? But if I am unworthy of regard, what has 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, in your palace, which must fall if they are destroyed. Atlas faints and scarce holds up his burden. If sea and 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, including him who had lent the chariot, and showing them that all was lost unless 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 brandished 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. In Eridanus the great river received him and cooled his burning flame. The Italian niads reared a tomb for him, and inscribed these words upon the stone. Driver of Phoebus' chariot Phaeton, struck by Jove's thunder, rests beneath the stone. He could not rule his father's car of fire, yet was it much so nobly to aspire. BULFINCH METHOLOGY THE EDGE OF FABLE by Thomas Bulfinch CHAPTER VI MIDDERS, BAUKIS and FILAMON Backers, on a certain occasion, found his old school-master and foster-father Silainus missing. The old man had been drinking, and in that state wandered away and was found by some peasants who carried him to their king Midders. Midders recognized him and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with an unceasing round of jollity. On the eleventh day he brought Silainus back and restored him and safety to his pupil. Rapham Backers offered Midders his choice of a reward whatever he might wish. He asked that whatever he might touch had changed into gold. Backers consented, though sorry that he had not made a better choice. Midders went his way, rejoicing in his new acquired power which he hastened to put to the test. He could scarce believe his eyes when he found a twig of an oak which had plucked from the branch become gold in his hand. He took up a stone, it changed to gold. He touched a sod, it did the same. He took an apple from the tree. You would have thought he had rubbed the garden of the Hesperides. His joy knew no bounds and as soon as he got home he ordered the servant to set a splendid repast on the table. Then he found his dismay, that whether he touched bread it hardened in his hand or put a marsil to his lips it defied his teeth. He took a glass of wine but it flowed down his throat like melted gold. In consternation at the unprecedented affliction he strove to defest himself of his power. He hated the gift yet lately coveted. But all in vain starvation seemed to aid him. He raised his arms all shining with gold and prayer to Bacchus begging to be delivered from his glittering destruction. Bacchus, merciful deity heard and consented.  He did so and scared had he touched of the waters before the gold creating power passed into them and the river sands became changed into gold as if they remained to this day. Thenceforth Middus, hating wealth and splendour dwelt in the country and became a worshipper of Pan the god of the fields. On a certain occasion Pan had the temerity to compare his music with that of Apollo at a challenge of the god of the lyre to a trial of skill. The challenge was accepted and Tmolus, the mountain god was chosen umpire. The senior took a seed and cleared away the trees from his ears to listen. At a given signal Pan blew on his pipes and with this rustic melody gave great satisfaction to himself and his faithful follower Middus, who happened to be present. Then Tmolus turned his head toward the sun-gold and all his trees turned with him. Apollo rose, his brown wreath with the Parnitian laurel, while his robe of Tyrion purple swept the ground. In his left hand he held the lyre and with his right hand struck the strings. Ravished with harmony Tmolus at once awarded the victory to the god of the lyre and all but Middus acquiesced in the judgment. He dissented and questioned the justice of the award.  More defied enough was King Middus at this mess-up but he consoled himself with the thought that it was possible to hide his misfortune which he attempted to do by means of an ample turban or headdress but his headdress of course knew the secret. He was charged, not to mention it and threatened with dire punishment if he presumed to disobey but he found it too much for his discretion to keep such a secret.  Before long a thick bed of reeds sprang up in the meadow and as soon as it had gained its growth began whispering the story and has continued to do so from that day to this every time a breeze passes over the place. The story of King Middus has been told by others with some variations. Dryden in the wife of Bath's tale makes Middus his queen the betrayer of the secret. This Middus knew and thus communicated to none but to his wife his ears of state. Middus was king of Rhaegia. He was the son of Gordius a poor country man who was taken by the people and made king in obedience to the command of the oracle which had said that their future king should come in a wagon. While the people were deliberating Gordius with his wife and son came driving his wagon into the public square. Gordius being made king dedicated his wagon to the deity of the oracle and tied it up in its place with the fast knot. This was a celebrated Gordian knot which in after times it was said whoever should untie should become lord of all Asia. Many tried to untie it but none succeeded till Alexander the Great in his career of conquest came to Phrygia. He tried his skill with as ill success as others till growing impatient he drew his sword and cut the knot. When he afterwards succeeded in subjecting all Asia to his sway people began to think that it complied with the terms of the oracle according to its true meaning. Borgus and Philemon On a certain hill in Phrygia stands a linden tree and an oak enclosed by a low wall not far from the spot as a marsh formerly good habitable land but now indented with pools the resort of fan birds and cormorants. Once on a time Jupiter in human shape visited this country and with him his son Mercury he of the Caduceus without his wings. They presented themselves as weary travellers at many a door seeking rest and shelter but found all closed for it was late and the inhospital inhabitants would not rouse themselves the open for their reception. At last a humble mansion received them a small thatched cottage where Borgus appears all dame and a husband Philemon, united when young had grown all together. Not ashamed of their poverty they made it andurable by moderate desires in kindest positions. One need not look there for Mars or for servant they too with a whole household Mars and servants alike. When the two heavily guests crossed in the humble threshold and bowed their heads to pass under the low door the old man placed a seat on which Borgus bustling and attentive spread a cloth and begged them to sit down.  She brought out of a corner split steaks and dry branches broke them up and plated them under the small kettle. Her husband collected some pot-tibes and a garden and she shred them from the stalks and prepared them for the pot. He reached down with a forked steak a fletch of bacon hanging in the chimney cut a small piece and put it in the pot to boil with the herbs setting away the rest for another time.  On the bench, designed for guests was laid a cushion stuffed with seaweed and a cloth only produced on great occasions but ancient and coarse enough was spread over that. The old lady, with her apron on with a trembling hand set the table. One leg was shorter than the rest but a piece of slate put under restored the level. When fixed she wrapped the table down with some sweet-swelling herbs. Upon it she set some off chased Minerva's olives some corner berries reserved in vinegar and added reddish and cheese with eggs lightly cooked in the ashes all were served in earthen dishes and an earthenware pitcher with wooden cups stood beside them. While all was ready the stew, smoking hot was set on the table some wine, not of the oldest was added and for dessert apples and wild honey and over and above all friendly phases and simple but hearty welcome. Now while the re-pass proceeded the old folks were astonished to see that a wine as fast as it was pulled out renewed itself in the pitcher of its own accord.  There was an old goose which they kept as a guardian they besought them to make this a sacrifice in honour of their guests but the goose too nimble with the aid of feet and wings for the old folks eluded their pursuit and at last took shelter between the gods themselves they forbade it to be slain and spoke in these words we are gods this inhospitable village shall pay the penalty of its impiety you alone shall go free from this chastisement quit your house and come with us to the top of yonder hill they hastened to obey and staff in hand laboured up the steeper sand that reached to within a narrow flight of the top when turning the rides below they beheld all the country sunk in a lake only their own house left standing while they gazed with wonder at the sight the old house of theirs was changed into a temple columns took the place of the corner posts the touch grew yellow and appeared a gilded roof the floors became marble the doors were enriched with carving and ornaments of gold then spoke Jupiter in benign and axons excellent old man and woman worthy of such a husband speak tell us your wishes we ask you to ask of us filament took council with walkers a few moments then declared to the gods their united wish we ask to be priests and guardians of this your temple and since here we have passed our lives in love and concord we wish that one and the same hour may take us both from life that I might not live to see her grave nor be laid to my own by her their prayer was granted they were the keepers of the temple as long as they lived when grown very old as they stood one day before the steps of the sacred edifice and were telling the story of the place walkers of filament began to put forth leaves and old filaments of walkers changing in like manner and now a leafy crown had grown over their heads while exchanging parting words as long as they could speak farewell dear spouse and at the same moment the bar closed of their mouths the tianian shepherd still shows the two trees standing side by side made out of two good old people the story of walkers of filament has been imitated by swift in a belesque style the actors in a change being two wandering saints and a house being changed into a church of which filament is made a parson the following may serve as a specimen they scarce had spoke when fair and soft the roof began to mound loft and loft arose every bean and rafter the heavy wool climbed slowly after the chimney widened and grew higher became a steeple with a spire the cattle to the top was hoist and theirs stood fast and too joist but with the upside down to show the its inclination far below in vain for a superior force applied at bottom stops its course doomed effort and suspense to dwell there's now no cattle but a bell a wooden jack which had almost lost by disused the art to roast a sudden alteration feels increased by new intestine wheels and what exhorts the wonder more the number made the motion slower the fly though had leaden feet turned round so quick you scarce could see but slackened by some secret power now hardly moves an inch an hour the jack and chimney near alight had never left each other's side the chimney to a steeple grown the jack would not be left alone but up against the steeple red became a clock and still adhered and still it's loft to household cares by shrill voice at noon declares warning the cook made not to burn that roast meat which it cannot earn and still it's loft to household cares by shrill voice at noon declares that roast meat which it cannot earn the groaning jack began to crawl like a huge snail along the wall there stuck a loft in public view and with a small change a pulpit grew a bad stat of the antique mode compact of timber menu load such as our ancestors did use was matamorphosed into the pews which is still the ancient nature keep by lodging forks disposed to sleep and of Chapter 6 Chapter 7 mythology the age of fable this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by M. L. Cohen mythology the age of fable by Thomas Bullfinch Chapter 7 proserpene glaucus and silla when Jupiter and his brothers had defeated the Titans and banished them to Tartarus a new enemy rose up against the gods they were the Giants Typhon Briarius Anceladus and others some of them had a hundred arms others breathed out fire they were finally subdued and buried alive under Mount Etna where they still sometimes struggle to get loose and shake the whole island with earthquakes their breath comes up through the mountain and is what men call the eruption of the volcano the fall of these monsters shook the earth so that Pluto was alarmed and feared that his kingdom would be laid open to the light of day under this apprehension he mounted his chariot drawn by black horses and took a circuit of inspection to satisfy himself of the extent of the damage while he was thus engaged Venus who was sitting on Mount Eryx her boy Cupid aspired him and said my son take your darts with which you conquer all even Jov himself and send one into the breast of Yonder Dark Monarch who rules the realm of Tartarus why should he alone escape seize the opportunity to extend your empire in mine do you not see that even in heaven some despise our power Minerva the Wise Diana the Huntress defy us and there is that daughter of Ceres who threatens to follow their example now do you if you have any regard for your own interest or mine join these two in one the boy unbound his quiver and selected his sharpest and truest arrow then straining the bow against his knee he attached a string and having made ready shot the arrow with his barred point right into the heart of Pluto in the veil of Ena there is a lake embowered in the woods which screen it from the fervid rays of the sun while the moist ground is covered with flowers and spring rains perpetual here proserping was playing with her companions gathering lilies and violets and filling her basket and her apron with them when Pluto saw her loved her and carried her off she screamed for help to her mother and companions and when in her fright she dropped the corners of her apron and let the flowers fall childlike she felt the loss of them as an addition to her grief the ravisher urged on his steeds calling them each by name and throwing loose over their heads and necks as iron colored rains when he reached the river Cyan and it opposed his passage he struck the river bank with his trident and the earth opened and gave him passage to Tartarus Ceri sought her daughter all the world over bright-haired Aurora when she came forth in the morning and Hesperus when he let out the stars in evening he was still busy in the search but it was all unavailing at length weary and sad she sat down upon a stone and continued sitting nine days and nights in the open air under the sunlight and moonlight and falling showers it was where now stands the city of Elucis then the home of an old man named Cilius he was out in the field gathering acorns and blackberries and sticks for his fire his little girl was driving home their two goats and as she passed the goddess who appeared in the guise of an old woman she said to her mother and the name was sweet to the ears of Cilius why do you sit here alone upon the rocks? the old man also stopped though his load was heavy and begged her to come into his cottage such as it was she declined and he urged her go in peace she replied and be happy in your daughter I have lost mine as she spoke tears or something like tears for the gods never weep fell down her cheeks upon her bosom the compassionate old man and his child wept with her then said he come with us and despise not our humble roof so may your daughter be restored to you safely lead on said she I cannot resist that appeal so she rose from the stone and went with them as they walked he told her that his only son a little boy lay very sick feverish and sleepless she stooped and gathered some poppies as they entered the cottage they found all in great distress for the boys seemed past hope of recovery Metiniah his mother received her kindly and kissed the lips of the sick child instantly the paleness left his face and healthy vigor returned to his body the whole family was delighted that is the father mother and little girl for they were all they had no sermons they spread the table and put upon it curds and cream Naples honey and the comb when they ate Sirius mingled poppy juice in the milk of the boy when night came and all was still she arose and taking the sleeping boy molded his limbs with her hands and uttered over him three times a solemn charm that went and laid him in the ashes his mother who had been watching what a guest was doing sprang forward with a cry and snatched the child from the fire then Sirius assumed her own form and a divine splendor shown all around while they were overcome with astonishment she said mother you have been cruel in your fineness to your son I would have made him immortal but you have frustrated my attempt nevertheless he shall be great and useful he shall teach man the use of the plow and the rewards which labor can win from the cultivated soil so saying she wrapped a cloud about her and mounting her chariot rode away Sirius continued to search for her daughter passing from land to land she returned to Sicily when she first set out and stood by the banks of the river Cyan where Pluto made himself a passage with his prize to his own dominions the river Nymph would have told the goddess all she had witnessed but dared not for fear of Pluto so she only ventured to take up the girdle which proserping had dropped in her flight and wafted to the feet of the mother Sirius seeing this was no longer in doubt of her loss but she did not yet know the cause and lay the blame on the innocent land ungrateful soil said she which I have endowed with fertility and clothed with herbids and nursing grain no more shall you enjoy my favors then cattle died the plow broke in the furrow the seed failed to come up there was too much sun, there was too much rain the birds stole the seeds, thistles and brambles were the only growth seeing this the mountain Arathusa interceded for the land goddess she said blame not the land it opened unwillingly to yield the passage to your daughter I can tell you of her fate for I have seen her this is not my native country I come hither from Ellis I was a woodland nymph and delighted in the chase they praised my beauty but I cared nothing for it and rather boasted of my hunting exploits one day I was returning from the wood when I came to a stream silently flowing so clear that you might count the pebbles on the bottom the willow shaded it and the grassy bank sloped down to the water's edge I approached I touched the water with my foot I stepped in knee deep and not content with that I laid my garments on the willows and went in while I sported in the water I heard an indistinct murmur coming up as out of the depths of the stream and made haste to escape to the nearest bank the voice said why do you fly Arthusa I am Altheus the god of the stream I ran he pursued he was not more swift than I but he was stronger and gained upon me as my strength failed at last exhausted I cried for help to Diana help me goddess help your vodery the goddess heard and wrapped me suddenly in a thick cloud the river god looked now this way and now that and twice came close to me he did not find me Arathusa Arathusa he cried oh how I trembled like a lamb that hears the wolf growling outside the fold a cold sweat came over me my hair flowed down in streams where my foot stood there was a pool in short in less time than it takes to tell it I became a fountain but in this form Altheus knew me and attempted to mingle his stream with mine Diana cleft the ground and I endeavoring to escape him plunged into the cavern and threw the bowels of the earth and came out here in Sicily while I passed through the lower parts of the earth I saw your proserpene she was sad but no longer showing alarm in her countenance her look was such as became a queen the queen of arabus the powerful bride of the monarch of the realms of the dead when Sirius heard this she stood for a while like one stupefied then turned her chariot towards heaven and hastened to present herself before the throne of Jove she told the story of her bereavement and implored Jupiter to interfere to procure the restitution of her daughter Jupiter consented on one condition, namely that proserpene should not during her stay in the lower world have taken any food otherwise the fates forbade her release accordingly Mercury was sent accompanied by spring to demand proserpene of Pluto the wily monarch consented but alas the maiden had taken a pomegranate which Pluto offered her and had sucked the sweet pulp from a few of the seeds this was enough to prevent her complete release but a compromise was made by which she was to pass half the time with her mother and the rest with her husband Pluto Sirius allowed herself to be pacified with this arrangement and restored the earth to her favor now she remembered Cilius and his family and her promise to his infant son Trapetolemus when the boy grew up she taught him to use of the plow and how to sow the seed she took him in her chariot drawn by winged dragons through all of the countries of the earth imparting to mankind valuable grains in the knowledge of agriculture after his return Trapetolemus built a magnificent temple to Sirius in Elusis and established a worship of the goddess under the name of the Elusian Mysteries which in the splendor and solemnity of their observance surpassed all other religions celebrations among the Greeks there can be little doubt of the story of Sirius and Prosherpene being an allegory Prosherpene signifies the seed corn which when cast into the ground lies there concealed that is she is carried off by the god of the underworld it reappears that as Prosherpene is restored to her mother Spring leads her back to the light of day Milton alludes to the story of Prosherpene in Paradise Lost Book 4 not that far field of Enna where Prosherpene gathering flowers herself the fairer flower by gloomy dis was gathered which cost Sirius all that pain to seeker through the world might with this paradise of even strive Hood in his ode to Menoncoly uses the same allusion very beautifully forgive if some while I forget in woe to come the present bliss as Frider Prosherpene let fall her flowers at the sight of dis the river Altheus does in fact disappear underground in part of its course finding its way through subterranean channels till it again appears on the surface it was said that Cillian fountain Arathusa was the same stream which after passing under the sea came up again in Sicily hence the story ran the cup thrown into the Altheus appeared again in Arathusa it is this fable of the underground course of Altheus that Kolaris alludes to in his poem of Kublacan in Xanadu did Kublacan a stately pleasure-dome decree where Althe the sacred river ran through Caverns Mezalus to Man down to a sunless sea in one of Morse juvenile poems he thus alludes to the same story and to the practice of throwing other light objects on a stream to be carried downward by it and afterwards reproduced at its emerging oh my beloved how divinely sweet is the pure joy when kindred spirits meet like him the river god whose waters flow with love their only light through caves below wafting in triumph all the flowery braids and festival rings with which Olympic maids have decked his current as an offering meet to lay at Arathusa's shining feet think when he meets at last his fountain bride what perfect love must thrill the blended tide each lost in each till mingling into one their lot the same for shadow or for sun a type of true love to the deep they run the following extract from Morse rhymes on the road gives an account of a celebrated picture by Albano at Milan called a dance of loves tis for the theft if Enna's flower from earth these urchins celebrate their dance of mirth round the green tree like phase upon a heath those that are nearest linked in order bright cheek after cheek like rosebud and wreath and those more distant showing from beneath the others wings their little eyes of light while see among the clouds their eldest brother but just flown up tells with a smile of bliss this plank of Pluto to his charmed mother who turns to greet the tidings with the kiss Glaucas and Silla Glaucas was a fisherman one day he had drawn his nets to land and had taken a great many fishes of various kinds so he emptied his net and proceeded to sort the fishes on the grass the place where he stood was a beautiful island in the river a solitary spot uninhabited and not used for pastures for cattle nor ever visited by any but himself on a sudden the fishes which had been laid on the grass began to revive and move their fins as if they were in the water and while he looked unastonished they one and all moved off to the water plunged in and swam away he did not know what to make of this whether some god had done it or some secret power in the herbage what herb has such power he exclaimed and gathered some of it he tasted it Scarce had the juices of the plant reached his palate when he found agitated with a longing desire for the water he could no longer restrain himself but bidding farewell to earth he plunged into the stream the gods of the water received him graciously and admitted him to the honor of their society they obtained a consent of oceanus and tithus the sovereigns of the sea that all that was mortal in him should be washed away a hundred rivers poured their waters over him then he lost all sense of his former nature and all consciousness when he recovered he found himself changed and form in mind his hair was sea green and trailed behind him on the water his shoulders grew broad and what had been thighs and legs assumed a form of a fish's tail the sea gods complimented him on the change of his appearance and he fancied himself rather a good-looking personage one day Glaucus saw the beautiful maiden Scylla the favorite of the water nymphs rambling on the shore and when she had found a sheltered nook she was putting her limbs in the clear water he fell in love with her and showing himself on the surface spoke to her saying such things as he thought most likely to win her to stay for she turned to run immediately on the side of him and ran till she had gained a cliff overlooking the sea here she stopped and turned round to see whether or a god or sea animal and observed with wonder his shape and color Glaucus partly emerging from the water and supporting himself against a rock said maiden I am no monster nor a sea animal but a god and neither Proteus nor Triton ranks higher than I once I was immortal and followed the sea for a living but now I belong wholly to it then he told the story of his metamorphosis and how he had been promoted to his present dignity and added but what avails all this if it fails to move your heart it was going on in his strain but Sila turned and hastened away Glaucus was in despair but it occurred to him to consult the enchantress Circe accordingly he repaired to her island the same where afterward Jolicious landed as we shall see in one of our later stories after mutual salutations he said goddess I entreat your pity you alone can relieve the pain I suffer the power of herbs I know as well as anyone for it is to them I owe my change of form I love Sila I am ashamed to tell you how I've sued and promised to her and how scornfully she has treated me I beseech you to use your incantations or potent herbs if they are more prevailing not to cure me of my love for that I do not wish but to make her share it and yield me a like return to which Circe replied for she was not insensible to the interactions of the sea-green deity you'd better pursue a willing object you are worthy to be sought instead of having to seek in vain be not diffident know your own worth I protest you that even I goddess though I be and learned it in the virtues of plants and spells should not know how to refuse you if she scorns you scorn her meet one who is ready to meet you both at once to these words Glaucous replied Sooner shell trees grow at the bottom of the ocean and seaweed on top of the mountains then I will cease to love Sila and her alone the goddess was indignant but she could not punish him neither did she wish to do so for she liked him too well so she turned all her wrath against her rival poor Sila she took plants of poisonous powers together with incantations and charms then she passed through the cloud of gambling beasts the victims of her art proceeded to the coast of Sicily where Sila lived it was a little bay on the shore to which Sila used to resort in the heat of the day to breathe the air of the sea and to bathe in its waters here the goddess poured her poisonous mixture and muttered over it incantations of mighty power Sila came as usual and plunged into the water up to her waist what was her horror to perceive a brood of serpents and barking monsters surrounding her at first she could not imagine they were part of herself and tried to run from them and to drive them away but as she ran she carried them with her and when she tried to touch her limbs she found her hands touched only the yawning jaws of monsters Sila remained rooted to the spot her temper grew as ugly as her form and she took pleasure in devouring the hapless mariners that came within her grasp thus she destroyed six of the companions of Ulysses and tried to wreck the ship of Aeneas till at last she was turned into a rock and as such still continues to be a terror to mariners Keats in his endemian has given a new version of the ending of Glaucos and Sila Glaucos consents to Circe's blandishments till he by chance is witness to her transaction with her beast disgusted with her treachery and cruelty he tries to escape from her but is taken and brought back when with reproaches she banishes him sentencing him to pass a thousand years in decrepitude and pain he returns to the sea and there finds the body of Sila whom the goddess has not transformed but drowned Glaucos learns that his destiny is that if he passes his thousand years in collecting all the bodies of drowned lovers a youth beloved of the goddess a youth beloved of the gods will appear and help him Endemian fulfills this prophecy and aids in restoring Glaucos to youth and Sila and all the drowned lovers to life the following is Glaucos's account of his feelings after his sea change I plunge for life or death to internet one senses with so dense a breathing stuff might seem a work of pain so not enough can I admire how crystal smooth it felt and buoyant round my limbs at first I dwelt whole days and days in sheer astonishment forgetful utterly of self-intent moving but with the mighty ebb and flow then like a new fledged bird that first does show his spreaded feathers to the morrow chill I tried and fear the pinions of my will t'was freedom and at once I visited the ceaseless wonders of this ocean bed Keats End of Chapter 7 This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org December 2006 Pygmalion Pygmalion saw so much to blame in women that he came at last to abhor the sex and resolved to live unmarried He was a sculptor and had made with wonderful skill a statue of ivory so beautiful that no living woman came anywhere near it It was indeed the perfect semblance of a maiden that seemed to be alive and only prevented from moving by modesty His art was so perfect that it concealed itself and its product looked like the workmanship of nature Pygmalion admired his own work and at last fell in love with the counterfeit creation Oftentimes he laid his hand upon it as if to assure himself whether it were living or not and could not even then believe that it was only ivory He caressed it and gave it presents such as young girl's love bright shells and polished stones little birds and flowers of various hues beads and amber He put raiment on its limbs and jewels on its fingers and a necklace about its neck To the ears he hung earrings and strings of pearls upon the breast Her dress became her and she looked not less charming than when unattired He laid her on a couch spread with cloths of Tyrion dye and called her his wife and put her head upon a pillow of the softest feathers as if she could enjoy their softness The festival of Venus was at hand a festival celebrated with great pomp at Cyprus Victims were offered The altars smoked and the odor of incense filled the air When Pegmalion had performed his part in the Salimnities he stood before the altar and timidly said E gods, who can do all things give me I pray you for my wife He dared not say my ivory virgin one like my ivory virgin Venus, who was present at the festival, heard him and knew the thought he would have uttered and as an omen of her favor caused the flame on the altar to shoot up thrice in a fiery point into the air When he returned home he went to see his statue and leaning over the couch gave it a kiss to the mouth It seemed to be warm He pressed its lips again He laid his hand upon the limbs The ivory felt soft to his touch and yielded to his fingers like the wax of Hymetis While he stands astonished and glad though doubting and fears he may be mistaken again and again with the lover's ardor he touches the object of his hopes It was indeed alive The veins when pressed yielded to the finger and again resumed their roundness Then at last the votary of Venus found words to thank the goddess and pressed his lips upon lips as real as his own The virgin felt the kisses and blushed and opening her timid eyes to the light fixed them at the same moment on her lover Venus blessed the nuptials she had formed and from this union Paphos was born from whom the city sacred to Venus received its name Shiller in his poem The Ideals applies this tale of Pygmalion to the love of nature in a youthful heart The following translation is furnished by a friend As once with prayers in passion flowing passion embraced the stone till from the frozen marble glowing the light of feeling o'er him shone So did I clasp with young devotion bright nature to a poet's heart till breath and warmth and vital motion seemed through the statue formed to dark And then in all my ardor sharing the silent form expression found returned my kiss of youthful daring and understood my heart's quick sound then lived for me the bright creation the silver rill with song was rife the trees, the roses shared sensation an echo of my boundless life Draupy and Aole were sisters the former was the wife of Andrémon beloved by her husband and happy in the birth of her first child one day the sisters strolled to the bank of a stream that sloped gradually down to the water's edge while the upland was overgrown with myrtles they were intending to gather flowers for forming garlands for the alters of the nymphs and Draupy carried her child from precious burden and nursed him as she walked near the water grew a lotus plant full of purple flowers Draupy gathered some and offered them to the baby and Aole was about to do the same when she perceived blood dropping from the places where her sister had broken them off the stem the plant was no other than the nymph lotus who running from a base pursuer had been changed into this form this they learned from the country people when it was too late Draupy horror struck when she perceived what she had done would gladly have hastened from the spot but found her feet rooted to the ground she tried to pull them away but moved nothing but her upper limbs the woodiness crept upward and by degrees invested her body in anguish she attempted to tear her hair but found her hands filled with leaves the infant felt his mother's bosom begin to harden and the milk sees to flow Aole looked on at the sad fate of her sister and could render no assistance she embraced the growing trunk as if she would hold back the advancing wood and would gladly have been enveloped in the same bark at this moment Andreiamon the husband of Draupy and when they asked for Draupy I only pointed them to the new formed lotus they embraced the trunk of the yet warm tree and showered their kisses on its leaves now there was nothing left of Draupy but her face her tears still flowed and fell on her leaves and while she could she spoke I am not guilty I deserve not this fate I have injured no one if I speak falsely may my foliage perish with drought and my trunk be cut down and burned take this infant and give it to a nurse let it often be brought and nursed under my branches and play in my shade and when he is old enough to talk let him be taught to call me mother and to say with sadness my mother lies hid under this bark but bid him be careful of river banks and beware how he plucks flowers remembering that every bush he sees may be a goddess in disguise farewell dear husband and sister and father if you retain any love for me let not the axe wound me nor the flocks bite the branches since I cannot stoop to you climb up hither and kiss me and while my lips continue to feel lift up my child that I may kiss him I can speak no more for already the bark advances up my neck and will soon shoot over me you need not close my eyes the bark will close them without your aid then the lips will move and life was extinct but the branches retained for some time longer the vital heat Keats in Indimeon alludes to Dryope thus she took a loot from which their pulsing came a lively prelude fashioning the way in which her voice should wander it was a lay more subtle cadence than Dryope's lone lulling of her child Venus and Adonis Venus playing one day with her boy Cupid wounded her bosom with one of his arrows she pushed him away but the wound was deeper than she thought before it healed she beheld Adonis and was captivated by him she no longer took any interest in her favorite resorts and amathos rich in metals she absented herself even from heaven for Adonis was dearer to her than heaven him she followed and bore him company she who used to love to recline in the shade with no care but to cultivate her charms now rambles through the woods and over the hills dressed like the huntress Diana dogs and chases hairs and stags or other game that it is safe to hunt but keeps clear of the wolves and bears reeking with the slaughter of the herd she charged Adonis too to be aware of such dangerous animals be brave towards the timid said she courage against the courageous is not safe beware how you expose yourself to danger and put my happiness to risk attack not the beasts that nature has armed with weapons I do not value your glory so high as to consent to purchase it by such exposure your youth and the beauty that charms Venus will not touch the hearts of lions and bristly boars think of their terrible claws and prodigious strength I hate the whole race of them do you ask me why then she told him the story of Atalanta and Hippomanes who were changed into lions for their ingratitude to her having given him this warning she mounted her chariot drawn by swans and drove away through the air but Adonis was too noble to heed such counsels the dogs had roused a wild boar from his lair and the youth threw his spear and wounded the animal with a side-long stroke the beast drew out the weapon with his jaws and rushed after Adonis who turned and ran but the boar overtook him and buried his tusks in his side and stretched him dying upon the plane Venus and her swan-drawn chariot had not yet reached Cyprus when she heard coming up through mid-air the groans of her beloved and turned her white-winged courses back to earth as she drew near and saw by his lifeless body bathed in blood she alighted and bending over it beat her breast and tore her hair reproaching the fates she said yet there shall be but a partial triumph memorials of my grief shall endure and the spectacle of your death, my Adonis and of my lamentations shall be annually renewed blood shall be changed into a flower that consolation none can envy me thus speaking she sprinkled nectar on the blood and as they mingled bubbles rose as in a pool on which raindrops fall and in an hour's time there sprang up a flower of bloody hue like that of the palm-granate but it is short-lived it is said the wind blows open and afterwards blows the petals away so it is called anemone or windflower from the cause which assists equally in its production and its decay Milton alludes to the story of Venus and Adonis in his comas Beds of hyacinth and roses where young Adonis oft reposes waxing well of his deep wound in slumber soft and on the ground sadly sits the Assyrian queen Apollo and Hyacinthus Apollo was passionately fond of a youth named Hyacinthus he accompanied him in his sports carried the nets when he went fishing led the dogs when he went to hunt followed him in his excursions in the mountains and neglected for him his lyre and his arrows one day they played a game of coys together and Apollo heaving aloft the discus with strength mingled with skill sent it high and far Hyacinthus watched it as it flew and excited with the sport ran forward to seize it eager to make his throw when the coys bounded from the earth and struck him in the forehead he fainted and fell pale as himself raised him and tried all his art to staunch the wound and retain the flitting life but all in vain the hurt was past the power of medicine as when one has broken the stem of a lily in the garden it hangs its head and turns its flowers to the earth so the head of the dying boy as if too heavy for his neck fell over on his shoulder thou dyest Hyacinth so spoke Phoebus robbed of thy youth by me thine is the suffering mine the crime wood that I could die for thee but since that may not be thou shalt live with me in memory and in song my lyre shall celebrate thee my song shall tell thy fate and thou shalt become a flower inscribed with my regrets while Apollo spoke behold the blood which had flowed on the ground and stained the herbage ceased to be blood but a flower of hue more beautiful than the Tyrion sprang up resembling the lily if it were not that this is purple and that silvery white and this was not enough for Phoebus but to confer still greater honor he marked the petals with his sorrow and inscribed ah upon them as we see to this day the flower bears the name of Hyacinthus and with every returning spring revives the memory of his fate it was said that Zephyrus the west wind who was also fond of Hyacinthus and jealous of his preference of Apollo blew the quite out of its course to make it strike Hyacinthus Keats alludes to this in his Indimion where he describes the lookers on at the game of quartz or they might watch the quartz pitchers intent on either side pitting the sad death of Hyacinthus when the cruel breath of Zephyrus slew him Zephyrus penitent who now air Phoebus mounts the firmament fondles the flower amid the sobbing rain an allusion to Hyacinthus will also be recognized in Milton's Lycidus like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe and bullfinches mythology the age of fable chapter 8 this recording is in the public domain this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Bullfinch's mythology the age of fable by Thomas Bullfinch chapter 9 Cix and Halcyony or the Halcyon Birds Cix was king of Thessaly where he reigned in peace without violence or wrong he was son of Hesperus the day-star and the glow of his beauty reminded one of his father Halcyony the daughter of Aelus was his wife and devotedly attached to him now Cix was in deep affliction for the loss of his brother and direful prodigies following his brother's death made him feel as if the gods were hostile to him he thought best therefore to make a voyage to Carlos in Ionia to consult the oracle of Apollo but as soon as he disclosed his intention to his wife Halcyony a shudder ran through her frame and her face grew deadly pale what fault of mine, dearest husband has turned your affection away from me where is that love of me that used to be uppermost in your thoughts have you learned to feel easy in the absence of Halcyony would you rather have me away she also endeavored to discourage him by describing the violence of the winds which she had known familiarly when she lived at home in her father's house Aelus being the god of the winds and having as much as he could do to restrain them they rushed together said she with such fury that fire flashes from the conflict but if you must go she added, dear husband with you otherwise I shall suffer not only the real evils which you must encounter but also those which my fears suggest these words weighed heavily on the mind of King Cix and it was no less his own wish than hers to take her with him but he could not bear to expose her to the dangers of the sea he answered therefore consoling her as well as he could and finished with these words I promise with my father the day-star that if fate permits I will return before the moon shall have twice rounded her orb when he had thus spoken he ordered the vessel to be drawn out of the ship-house and the oars and sails to be put aboard when Halcyony saw these preparations she shuddered as if with a pre-sentiment of evil with tears and sobs she said farewell and then fell senseless to the ground Cix would still have lingered but now the young men grasped their oars and pulled vigorously through the waves with long and measured strokes Halcyony raised her streaming eyes and saw her husband standing on the deck waving his hand to her she answered his signal till the vessel had receded so far that she could no longer distinguish his form from the rest when the vessel itself could no more be seen she strained her eyes to catch the last glimmer of the sail till that too disappeared then, retiring to her chamber she threw herself on her solitary couch meanwhile they glide out of the harbour and the breeze plays among the ropes the sea-men drawing their oars and hoist their sails when half or less of their course was passed as a night drew on the sea began to whiten with swelling waves and the east wind to blow a gale the master gave the word to take in said but the storm for bad obedience for such is the roar of the winds and waves, his orders are unheard the men of their own accord busy themselves to secure the oars to strengthen the ship to reef the sail while they thus do what to each one seems best the storm increases the shouting of the men the rattling of the shrouds and the dashing of the waves mingle with the roar of the thunder the swelling sea seems lifted up to the heavens to scatter its foam among the clouds then sinking away to the bottom assumes the colour of the shoal astigian blackness the vessel shares all these changes it seems like a wild beast that rushes on the spears of the hunters rain falls in torrents as if the skies were coming down to unite with the sea when the lightning ceases for a moment the night seems to add its own darkness to that of the storm then comes the flash rending the darkness asunder and lighting up all with a glare skill fails courage sinks and death seems to come on every wave the men are stupefied with terror the thought of parents and kindred and pledges left at home over their minds Cix thinks of Halcyony no name but hers is on his lips and while he yearns for her he yet rejoices in her absence presently the mast is shattered by a stroke of lightning the rudder broken and the triumphant surge curling over looks down upon the wreck then falls and crushes it to fragments some of the sea men stunned by the stroke sink and rise no more others cling to fragments of the wreck Cix with the hand that used to grasp the scepter holds fast to a plank calling for help alas in vain upon his father and his father in law but oftenest upon his lips was the name of Halcyony to her his thoughts cling he prays that the waves might bear his body to her sight and that it may receive burial at her hands at length the waters overwhelm him and he sinks the day star looked dim that night since it could not leave the heavens it shrouded its face with clouds in the meanwhile Halcyony ignorant of all these horrors counted the days till her husband's promised return now she gets ready the garments which he shall put on and now what she shall wear when he arrives to all the gods she offers frequent incense but more than all to Juno for her husband who was no more she prayed incessantly that he might be safe that he might come home that he might not in his absence see anyone that he would love better than her but of all these prayers the last was the only one destined to be granted the goddess at length could not bear any longer to be pleaded with for one already dead and to have hands raised to her altars that ought rather to be offering funeral rites so calling Iris she said Iris, my faithful messenger go to the drowsy dwelling of Somnus and tell him to send a vision to Halcyony in the form of Cix to make known to her the event Iris puts on her robe of many colours and tinging the sky with her bow seeks the palace of the king of sleep near the Cimmerian country a mountain cave is the abode of the dull god Somnus here Phoebus dares not come either rising at midday or setting clouds and shadows are exhaled from the ground and the light glimmers faintly the bird of dawning with crested head never there calls allowed to a roar nor watchful dog nor more sagacious goose disturb the silence no wild beast nor cattle nor branch moved with the wind nor sound of human conversation breaks the stillness silence rains there but from the bottom of the rock the river lethy flows and by its murmur invites to sleep poppies grow abundantly before the door of the cave and other herbs from whose juices night collect slumbers which she scatters over the dark and earth there is no gate to the mansion to creak on its hinges nor any watchman but in the midst a couch of black ebony adorned with black plumes and black curtains there the god reclines his limbs relaxed with sleep around him lie dreams resembling all various forms as many as the harvest bears stalks or the forest leaves or the sea shore sand grains as soon as the goddess entered and brushed away the dreams that hovered around her her brightness lit up all the cave the gods scarce opening his eyes and everond anon dropping his beard upon his breast at last shook himself free from himself leaning on his arm inquired her errand for he knew who she was she answered somnus gentlest of the gods tranquilizer of minds and soother of care-worn hearts Juno sends you her commands that you dispatch a dream to Halcyony in the city of Trakinny representing her lost husband and all the events of the wreck having delivered her message Iris hastened away for she could not longer endure the stagnant air and as she felt drowsiness creeping over her she made her escape and returned by her bow the way she came then somnus called one of his numerous sons Morpheus the most expert in counterfeiting forms and in imitating the walk the countenance and mode of speaking even the clothes and attitudes most characteristic of each but he only imitates men leaving it to another to personate priests and serpents him they call Ikelos and Phantosos is a third who turns himself into rocks, waters, woods and other things without life these wait upon kings and great personages in their sleeping hours while others move among the common people somnus chose from all the brothers Morpheus to perform the commander virus then laid his head on his pillow and waited himself to grateful repose Morpheus flew making no noise with his wings and soon came to the hemonian city where laying aside his wings he assumed the form of sea eggs under that form but pale like a dead man naked he stood before the couch of the wretched wife his beard seemed soaked with water and water trickled from his drowned locks leaning over the bed tears streaming from his eyes he said do you recognize your sea eggs unhappy wife or has death too much changed my visage behold me know me your husband's shade instead of himself your prayers Halcyony availed me nothing I am dead no more deceive yourself with vain hopes of my return the stormy winds sunk my ship in the Aegean sea waves filled my mouth while it called aloud on you no uncertain messenger tells you this no vague rumour brings it to your ears I come in person a shipwrecked man to tell you my fate arise give me tears give me lamentations let me not go down to tartar us unwept to these words Morpheus added the voice which seemed to be that of her husband he seemed to pour forth genuine tears his hands had the gestures of sea eggs Halcyony weeping groaned and stretched out her arms in her sleep striving to embrace his body but grasping only the air stay she cried with her do you fly let us go together her own voice awakened her starting up she gazed eagerly around to see if he was still present for the servants alarmed by her cries had brought a light when she found him not she smote her breast and rent her garments she cares not to unbind her hair but tears it wildly her nurse asks what is the cause of her grief Halcyony is no more she answers she perished with her sea eggs utter not words of comfort he is shipwrecked and dead I have seen him I have recognised him I stretched out my hands to seize him retain him his shade vanished but it was the true shade of my husband not with the accustomed features nor with the beauty that was his but pale, naked and with his hair wet with seawater he appeared to wretched me here, in this very spot the sad vision stood and she looked to find the mark of his footsteps this it was this that my presaging mind foreboded when I implored him to leave me, to trust himself to the waves oh, how I wish since thou wouldst go thou hadst taken me with thee it would have been far better then I should have had no remnant of life to spend without thee nor a separate death to die if I could bear to live and struggle to endure I should be more cruel to myself than the sea has been to me but I will not struggle I will not be separated from thee, unhappy husband this time at least I will keep thee company in death, if one tomb may not include us, one epitaph shall, if I may not lay my ashes with thine my name at least shall not be separated her grief for bad more words and these were broken with tears and sobs it was now morning she went to the seashore where she last saw him on his departure while he lingered here and cast off his tacklings he gave me his last kiss while she reviews every object and strives to recall every incident looking out over the sea she describes an indistinct object floating in the water at first she was in doubt what it was but by degrees the waves bore it nearer and it was plainly the body of a man no one knowing of whom yet as it was of some shipwrecked one she was deeply moved and gave it her tears saying alas unhappy one and unhappy if such there be thy wife born by the waves it came nearer as she more and more nearly views it she trembles more and more now now it approaches the shore now marks that she recognises appear it is her husband stretching out her trembling hands towards it she exclaims oh dearest husband is it thus you return to me there was built out from the shore a mole constructed to break the assaults of the sea and stem its violent ingress she leaped upon this barrier and it was wonderful she could do so she flew and striking the air her wings produced on the instant skimmed along the surface of the water an unhappy bird as she flew her throat poured forth sounds full of grief and like the voice of one lamenting when she touched the mute and bloodless body she unfolded its beloved limbs with her new formed wings and tried to give kisses with her horny beak whether sea excelt it or whether it was only the action of the waves those who looked undoubted but the body seemed to raise its head but indeed he did feel it and by the pitying gods both of them were changed into birds they mate and have their young ones for seven placid days in wintertime Halcyony broods over her nest which floats upon the sea then the way is safe to semen Aeolus guards the winds and keeps them from disturbing the deep the sea is given up for the time to his grandchildren the following lines from Byron's Bride of Abidos might seem borrowed from the concluding part of this description if it were not stated that the author derived the suggestion from observing the motion of a floating corpse as shaken on his restless pillow his head heaves with the heaving pillow that hand whose motion is not life yet feebly seems to menace strife flung by the tossing tide on high then leveled with the wave Milton in his hymn on the nativity thus alludes to the fable of the Halcyon but peaceful was the night wherein the prince of light his reign of peace upon the earth began the winds with wonder whisked smoothly the waters kissed whispering new joys to the mild ocean who now hath quite forgot to rave while birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave Keats also in Endymion says oh magic sleep oh comfortable bird that brooder store the troubled sea of the mind till it is hushed and smooth End of chapter 9 this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Bullfinch's Mythology The Age of Fable by Thomas Bullfinch Chapter 10 Vertumnus and Pomona The Hammard Riots were wood nymphs Pomona was of this class and no one excelled her in love of the garden and the culture of fruits she cared not for forests and rivers but loved the cultivated country and trees that bear delicious apples her right hand bore for its weapon not a javelin but a pruning knife armed with this she busied herself at one time to repress the two luxuriant growths and curtailed the branches that struggled out of place at another to split the twig and insert there in a graft making the branch adopt a nursing not its own this should not suffer from drought and led streams of water by them that the thirsty roots might drink this occupation was her pursuit her passion and she was free from that which Venus inspires she was not without fear of the country people and kept her orchard locked and allowed not men to enter the fawns and satyrs would have given all they possessed to win her and so would old sylvanus looks young for his years and Pan who wears a garland of pine-leaves around his head but Vertumnus loved her best of all yet he sped no better than the rest oh how often in the disguise of a reaper did he bring her corn in a basket and look the very image of a reaper with a hay-band tied round him one would think he had just come from turning over the grass sometimes he would have an ox-goed in his hand and he would have said he had just unyoked his weary oxen now he bore a pruning hook and personated a vine-dresser and again with a ladder on his shoulder he seemed as if he was going to gather apples sometimes he trudged along as a discharged soldier and again he bore a fishing-rod as if going to fish in this way he gained admission to her again and again and fed his passion with the sight of her today he came in the guise of an old woman her grey hair surmounted with a cap and a staff in her hand she entered the garden and admired the fruit it does you credit, my dear she said and kissed her not exactly with an old woman's kiss she sat down on a bank and looked up at the branches laden with fruit which hung over her opposite was an elm entwined with a vine loaded with swelling grapes the tree and its associated vine equally Bert said she if the tree stood alone and had no vine clinging to it it would have nothing to attract or offer us but its useless leaves and equally the vine if it were not twined round the elm would lie prostrate on the ground why will you not take a lesson from the tree and the vine and consent to unite yourself with someone who you would Helen herself had not more numerous suitors nor Penelope the wife of shrewd Ulysses even while you spurned them they caught you rural deities and others of every kind that frequent these mountains but if you are prudent and want to make a good alliance and will let an old woman advise you who loves you better than you have any idea of dismiss all the rest of the tumnus on my recommendation I know him as well as he knows himself he is not a wandering deity but belongs to these mountains nor is he like too many of the lovers nowadays who love anyone they happen to see he loves you and you only add to this he is young and handsome and has the art of assuming any shape he pleases and can make himself just what you command him moreover he loves the same things that you do delights in gardening and handles your apples with admiration but now he cares nothing for fruits nor flowers nor anything else but only yourself take pity on him and fancy him speaking now with my mouth remember that the gods punish cruelty and that Venus hates a hard heart and will visit such offences sooner or later to prove this let me tell you a story which is well known in Cyprus to be a fact and I hope it will have the effect to make you more merciful Ifis was a young man of humble parentage who saw and loved anxarity a noble lady of the ancient family of Tusa he struggled long with his passion but when he found he could not subdue it he came a suppliant to her mansion first he told his passion to her nurse and begged her as she loved her foster child to favour his suit and then he tried to win her domestics to his side sometimes he committed his vows to written tablets and often hung at her door garlands which he had moistened with his tears he stretched himself on her threshold and uttered his complaints to the cruel bolts and bars she was deffer than the surges in the November Gale harder than steel from the German forges or a rock that still clings to its native cliff she mocked and laughed at him adding cruel words to her ungentle treatment and gave not the slightest gleam of hope Ifis could not any longer endure the torments of hopeless love and standing before her doors he spake these last words anxarity you have conquered and shall no longer have to bear my importunities enjoy your triumph sing songs of joy and bind your forehead with laurel you have conquered I die stony heart rejoice this at least I can do to gratify you and force you to praise me and thus shall I prove that the love of you left me but with life nor will I leave it to rumour to tell you of my death I will come myself and you shall see me die and feast your eyes on the spectacle yet oh ye gods who look down on mortal woes observe my fate I ask but this let me be remembered in coming ages and add those years to my fame which you have reffed from my life thus he said and turning his pale face and weeping eyes towards her mansion he fastened a rope to the gate post on which he had often hung garlands and putting his head into the noose he murmured this garland at least will please you cruel girl and falling hung suspended with his neck broken as he fell he struck against the gate and the sound was as the sound of a groan the servants opened the door and found him dead and with exclamations of pity raised him and carried him home to his mother for his father was not living she received the dead body of her son and folded the cold form to her bosom while she poured forth the sad words which bereaved mother's utter the mournful funeral passed through the town and the pale corpse was born on a beer to the place of the funeral pile by chance the home of anxarity was on the street where the procession passed and the lamentations of the mourners met the ears of her whom the avenging deity had already marked for punishment let us see this sad procession said she and mounted to a turret went through an open window she looked upon the funeral scarce had her eyes rested upon the form of ifis stretched on the beer when they began to stiffen and the warm blood in her body to become cold endeavouring to step back she found she could not move her feet trying to turn away her face she tried in vain stony like her heart that she may not doubt the fact the statue still remains and stands in the temple of Venus at Salamis in the exact form of the lady now think of these things, my dear and lay aside your scorn and your delays and accept a lover so may neither the vernal frosts blight your young fruits nor furious winds scatter your blossoms when Vertumnus had spoken thus he dropped the disguise of an old woman and stood before her in his proper person as a comely youth it appeared to her like the sun bursting through a cloud he would have renewed his entreaties but there was no need his arguments and the sight of his true form prevailed and the nymph no longer resisted but owned a mutual flame Pomona was the a special patroness of the apple orchard and as such she was invoked by Philips the author of a poem on cider in blank verse Thompson in the seasons alludes to him Philips Pomona's bard the second thou who nobly durced in rhyme unfettered verse with British freedom sing the British song but Pomona was also regarded as presiding over other fruits and as such is invoked by Thompson bear me Pomona to thy citron groves to wear the lemon and the piercing lime with the deep orange glowing through the green their lighter glories blend lay me reclined beneath the spreading tamarind that shakes fanned by the breeze its fever cools


If you drive back and forth to work on a particular route, you all know that you get into a habit of driving. You don't even have to think about it anymore. It just happens. It's all habitual because it's become a habit. You're not even thinking about it. In the dunya, it's not that bad of a problem, although sometimes it is. Where it really is a problem is in our deen. And this status of being in a state where we're doing things habitually and not thinking about what we're doing is called ghafla, heedlessness. We've all had the experience of when we prayed. And we go through the entire prayer and we do everything. The fard, the sunnah, the mendub, every aspect of the prayer, we're doing it right. Outwardly, if somebody looked at us, they would say, MashaAllah, they did a good prayer. Inwardly, we were thinking we were on the other side of the world. But we performed everything. How did that happen? Because we got into a habit of doing that prayer in that proper way. We're not thinking about it and then we're not getting the benefit out of that prayer. Thank you.