Gods and Heroes. Francillon Robert Edward
for curtains, and the blue sky for a garden, and the Zodiac for a carriage-drive. The sun itself, as you have heard, is the chariot of Apollo, drawn by four horses of white fire, who feed on golden grain, and are driven by the god himself round and round the world. Phaëthon entered boldly, as his mother had told him, found Apollo in all his glory, and said: —
“My mother, Clymene, says that I am your son. Is it true?”
“Certainly,” said Apollo, “it is true.”
“Then give me a sign,” said Phaëthon, “that all may know and believe. Make me sure that I am your son.”
“Tell them that I say so,” said Apollo. “There – don’t hinder me any more. My horses are harnessed: it is time for the sun to rise.”
“No,” said Phaëthon, “they will only say that I brag and lie. Give me a sign for all the world to see – a sign that only a father would give to his own child.”
“Very well,” said Apollo, who was getting impatient at being so hindered. “Only tell me what you want me to do, and it shall be done.”
“You swear it – by Styx?” said Phaëthon.
Now you must know that the Styx was a river in Hades by which the gods swore; and that an oath “by Styx” was as binding upon a god as a plain promise is upon a gentleman.
“I swear it – by Styx!” said Apollo, rather rashly, as you will see. But he was now in a very great hurry indeed.
“Then,” said Phaëthon, “let me drive the horses of the Sun for one whole day!”
This put Apollo in terrible alarm, for he knew very well that no hand, not even a god’s, can drive the horses of the Sun but his own. But he had sworn by Styx – the oath that cannot be broken. All he could do was to keep the world waiting for sunrise while he showed Phaëthon how to hold the reins and the whip, and pointed out what course to take, and warned him of the dangers of the road. “But it’s all of no use. You’ll never do it,” said he. “Give it up, while there is yet time! You know not what you do.”
“Oh, but I do, though,” said Phaëthon. “I know I can. There – I understand it all now, without another word.” So saying, he sprang into the chariot, seized the reins, and gave the four fiery horses four lashes that sent them flying like comets through the air.
“Hold them in – hold them hard!” cried Apollo. But Phaëthon was off, and too far off to hear.
Off indeed! and where? The world must have been amazed that day to see the sun rise like a rocket and go dashing about the sky, north, south, east, west – anywhere, nowhere, everywhere! Well the horses knew that it was not Apollo, their master, who plied the whip and held the reins. They took their bits between their teeth, and – bolted. They kicked a planet to bits (astronomers know where the pieces are still): they broke holes in the chariot, which we can see, and call “sun-spots,” to this day: it was as if chaos were come again. At last, Phaëthon, whose own head was reeling, saw to his horror that the horses, in their mad rush, were getting nearer and nearer to the earth itself – and what would happen then? If the wheels touched the globe we live on, it would be scorched to a cinder. Nearer, nearer, nearer it came – till a last wild kick broke the traces, overturned the sun itself, and Phaëthon fell, and fell, and fell, till he fell into the sea, and was drowned. And then the horses trotted quietly home.
The story of Phaëthon is always taken as a warning against being conceited and self-willed. But there are some curious things about it still to be told. The Greeks fancied that the great desert of Sahara, in Africa, is the place where the earth was scorched by the sun’s chariot-wheel, and that the African negroes were burned black in the same way, and have never got white again. And the poplars are Phaëthon’s sisters, who wept themselves for his death into trees.
DIANA; AND THE STORY OF ORION
YOU know that the fixed stars are divided into groups, called constellations. A name has been given to every constellation; and each is supposed to be like the shape of some creature or thing – such as the Great Bear, the Swan, the Cup, the Eagle, the Dragon, and so on. Most of their names were given by the Greeks, who fancied they could see in them the shapes after which they were named. We have kept the old names, and still paint the supposed figure of each constellation on the celestial globe, which is the image or map of the sky.
Now the grandest, brightest, and largest of all the constellations is named Orion. It is supposed to represent a giant, with a girdle and a sword, and is rather more like what is fancied than most of the constellations are. You are now going to read the story of Orion, and how he came to be placed among the stars. You may notice, by the way, that the planets, the sun, and the moon are named after gods and goddesses; the fixed stars after mortals who were raised to the skies.
There was once a man named Hyrieus, whose wife died, and he loved her so much, and was so overcome with grief that he vowed never to marry again. But she left him no children. And when, in course of time, he grew old, he sadly felt the want of sons and daughters to make his old age less hard and lonely.
One day it happened that Jupiter, Neptune, and Mercury (who was one of the gods, and Jupiter’s chief minister and messenger) were on a visit to earth. The night fell, and they grew tired and hungry. So they wandered on to find rest and food; and, as luck would have it, they came to the cottage of Hyrieus, and asked for shelter. Hyrieus thought they were only three poor benighted travelers who had lost their way. But he was very good and charitable, so he asked them in and gave them the best fare he had – bread, roots, and wine – he himself waiting upon them, and trying to make them comfortable. He poured out a cup of wine, and offered it first to Neptune. But Neptune, instead of drinking it, rose from his seat and gave the cup to Jupiter, like a subject to a king who should be first served. You may not think there was much to notice in this; but Hyrieus noticed it, and then, looking intently upon the stranger to whom Neptune had given the cup, he was struck by a sudden religious awe that told him he was in the presence of the king and father of gods and men. He straightway fell on his knees and said: —
“I am poor and humble; but I have in my stall one ox to plough my field. I will gladly offer him up as a sacrifice for joy that Jupiter has thought me worthy to give him bread and wine.”
“You are a good and pious man,” said Jupiter. “Ask of us any gift you please, and it shall be yours.”
“My wife is dead,” said Hyrieus, “and I have vowed never to marry again. But let me have a child.”
“Take the ox,” said Jupiter, “and sacrifice him.”
So Hyrieus, being full of faith, sacrificed his ox, and, at the bidding of Jupiter, buried the skin. And from that skin, and out of the ground, there grew a child, who was named Orion.
Orion grew and grew till he became a giant, of wonderful strength and splendid beauty. He took the most loving care of Hyrieus, and was the best of sons to him. But when the old man died, Orion went out into the world to seek his fortune. And the first service he found was that of Diana, the sister of Apollo, and queen and goddess of the Moon.
Diana, however, had a great deal to do besides looking after the moon. She was three goddesses in one – a goddess of the sky, a goddess of earth, and a goddess of Hades besides. In heaven she was called Luna, whose duty is to light the world when Apollo is off duty. In Hades she was called Hecate, who, with her scepter, rules the ghosts of dead souls. And on earth her name is Diana, the queen, of forests and mountains, of wild animals and hunters. She wears a crescent on her forehead and a quiver at her back; her limbs are bare, and she holds a bow, with which she shoots as well as her brother Apollo. Just as he is called Phœbus, so she is often called Phœbe. She goes hunting all night among the hills and woods, attended by the Nymphs and Oreads, of whom she is queen. There are not so many stories about her as about the other gods and goddesses, and yet she is really the most interesting of them all, as you will see some day.
This great strange goddess had sworn never to love or marry – had sworn it by Styx, I suppose. But Orion was so beautiful and so strong and so great a hunter that she went as near to loving him as she ever did to loving any one. She had him always with her,