The Age of Fable; or Stories of Gods and Heroes / Thomas Bulfinch
The Death of Baldur — The Elves — Runic Letters — Skalds — Iceland. . Venus (Aphrodite), the goddess of love and beauty, was the daughter of Jupiter and . But a nobler animal was wanted, and Man was made. It is therefore of much more recent date than most of the legends of the Age of Fable. The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fairy Mythology, by Thomas Keightley This and Superstition of Various Countries Author: Thomas Keightley Release Date: October Whittington and his Cat—Danish Legends—Italian Stories—Persian Legend. For human nature will ever remain unchanged; the love of gain and of . 1 day ago Event Date. Sat. Dec 1. PM. Gateway Dirt Nationals - Saturday. Ticket Packages Show. Gateway Dirt Nationals - Saturday. The Dome at.
Television talk show host Dick Cavettwho was among the minority who quickly appreciated Allen's unique style, recalls seeing the audience at the Blue Angel mostly ignore Allen's monologue: This uneasy onstage naturalness became a trademark.
Allen developed an anxiousnervous, and intellectual persona for his stand-up act, a successful move that secured regular gigs for him in nightclubs and on television. Allen brought innovation to the comedy monologue genre and his stand-up comedy would be considered influential.
He subsequently released three LP albums of live nightclub recordings: In he hosted an episode of The Kraft Music Hall where he would intersperse humor with interviews of famous people, including conservative writer William F.
InAllen wrote the play Don't Drink the Water. Because he was not particularly happy with the film version of his play, inAllen directed and starred in a second version for television, with Michael J. Fox and Mayim Bialik. The play opened on February 12,and ran for performances. It featured Diane Keaton and Roberts. He is the most disciplined person I know.
He works very hard," Keaton has stated. He has written several one-act plays, including Riverside Drive and Old Saybrook exploring well-known Allen themes. Feldman production What's New Pussycat? He was disappointed with the final product, which inspired him to direct every film that he would later write. Kagi no kagi"International Secret Police: Key of Keys"—was redubbed in English by Allen and friends with fresh new, comic dialogue.
Allen directed, starred in, and co-wrote with Mickey Rose Take the Money and Run inwhich received positive reviews. He later signed a deal with United Artists to produce several films. The Front was a humorous and poignant account of Hollywood blacklisting during the s; Ritt, screenwriter Walter Bernsteinand three of Allen's cast-mates, Samuel "Zero" MostelHerschel Bernardiand Lloyd Goughhad themselves been blacklisted. I don't like meeting heroes. There's nobody I want to meet and nobody I want to work with—I'd rather work with Diane Keaton than anyone—she's absolutely great, a natural.
Annie Hall set the standard for modern romantic comedy and ignited a fashion trend with the clothes worn by Diane Keaton in the film. In an interview with journalist Katie CouricKeaton does not deny that Allen wrote the part for her and about her. As in many Allen films, the main protagonists are upper-middle class writers and academics. The love—hate opinion of cerebral persons found in Manhattan is characteristic of many of Allen's movies, including Crimes and Misdemeanors and Annie Hall.
Manhattan focuses on the complicated relationship between middle-aged Isaac Davis Allen with year-old Tracy Mariel Hemingwayand co-stars Diane Keaton. Keaton, who made eight movies with Allen during her career, tries to explain why his films are unique: He just has a mind like nobody else.
He's got a lot of strength, a lot of courage in terms of his work. And that is what it takes to do something really unique. Along with a genius imagination. In Hannah and Her Sisterspart of the film's structure and background is borrowed from Fanny and Alexander. Amarcord inspired Radio Days. September resembles Autumn Sonata. Allen uses many elements from Wild Strawberries.
Overcome by the recent death of a friend from illness, the character states, "I don't want to make funny movies any more" and a running gag has various people including visiting space aliens telling Bates that they appreciate his films, "especially the early, funny ones.
She has a very good range, and can play serious to comic roles. She's also very photogenic, very beautiful on screen. She's just a good realistic actress On their birthdays men made offerings to their Genius, women to their Juno.
A modern poet thus alludes to some of the Roman gods: Thus Cybele and Penates are words of three syllables.
But Proserpine and Thebes are exceptions and to be pronounced as English words. THE creation of the world is a problem naturally fitted to excite the liveliest interest of man, its inhabitant. The ancient pagans, not having the information on the subject which we derive from the pages of Scripture, had their own way of telling the story, which is as follows: Before earth and sea and heaven were created, all things wore one aspect, to which we give the name of Chaos — a confused and shapeless mass, nothing but dead weight, in which, however, slumbered the seeds of things.
Earth, sea, and air were all mixed up together; so the earth was not solid, the sea was not fluid, and the air was not transparent. God and Nature at last interposed, and put an end to this discord, separating earth from sea, and heaven from both. The fiery part, being the lightest, sprang up, and formed the skies; the air was next in weight and place. The earth, being heavier, sank below; and the water took the lowest place, and buoyed up the earth. Here some god — it is not known which — gave his good offices in arranging and disposing the earth.
He appointed rivers and bays their places, raised mountains, scooped out valleys, distributed woods, fountains, fertile fields. The air being cleared, the stars began to appear, fishes took possession of the sea, birds of the air, and four-footed beasts of the land. But a nobler animal was wanted, and Man was made. It is not known whether the creator made him of divine materials, or whether in the earth, so lately separated from heaven, there lurked still some heavenly seeds. Prometheus took some of this earth, and kneading it up with water, made man in the image of the gods.
He gave him an upright stature, so that while all other animals turn their faces downward, and look to the earth, he raises his to heaven, and gazes on the stars.
Prometheus was one of the Titans, a gigantic race, who inhabited the earth before the creation of man. To him and his brother Epimetheus was committed the office of making man, and providing him and all other animals with the faculties necessary for their preservation.
Epimetheus undertook to do this, and Prometheus was to overlook his work, when it was done. Epimetheus accordingly proceeded to bestow upon the different animals the various gifts of courage, strength, swiftness, sagacity; wings to one, claws to another, a shelly covering to a third, etc.
But when man came to be provided for, who was to be superior to all other animals, Epimetheus had been so prodigal of his resources that he had nothing left to bestow upon him. In his perplexity he resorted to his brother Prometheus, who, with the aid of Minerva, went up to heaven, and lighted his torch at the chariot of the sun. With this gift man was more than a match for all other animals. It enabled him to make weapons wherewith to subdue them; tools with which to cultivate the earth; to warm his dwelling, so as to be comparatively independent of climate; and finally to introduce the arts and to coin money, the means of trade and commerce.
Woman was not yet made. The story absurd enough! The first woman was named Pandora. She was made in heaven, every god contributing something to perfect her. Venus gave her beauty, Mercury persuasion, Apollo music, etc. Thus equipped, she was conveyed to earth, and presented to Epimetheus, who gladly accepted her, though cautioned by his brother to beware of Jupiter and his gifts. Epimetheus had in his house a jar, in which were kept certain noxious articles for which, in fitting man for his new abode, he had had no occasion.
Pandora was seized with an eager curiosity to know what this jar contained; and one day she slipped off the cover and looked in. Forthwith there escaped a multitude of plagues for hapless man — such as gout, rheumatism, and colic for his body, and envy, spite, and revenge for his mind — and scattered themselves far and wide. Pandora hastened to replace the lid! So we see at this day, whatever evils are abroad, hope never entirely leaves us; and while we have that, no amount of other ills can make us completely wretched.
Another story is that Pandora was sent in good faith, by Jupiter, to bless man; that she was furnished with a box containing her marriage presents, into which every god had put some blessing, She opened the box incautiously, and the blessings all escaped, hope only excepted.
This story seems more probable than the former; for how could hope, so precious a jewel as it is, have been kept in a jar full of all manner of evils, as in the former statement?
The world being thus furnished with inhabitants, the first age was an age of innocence and happiness, called the Golden Age. Truth and right prevailed, though not enforced by law, nor was there any magistrate to threaten or punish. The forest had not yet been robbed of its trees to furnish timbers for vessels, nor had men built fortifications round their towns.
There were no such things as swords, spears, or helmets. The earth brought forth all things necessary for man, without his labour in ploughing or sowing, Perpetual spring reigned, flowers sprang up without seed, the rivers flowed with milk and wine, and yellow honey distilled from the oaks. Then succeeded the Silver Age, inferior to the golden, but better than that of brass. Jupiter shortened the spring, and divided the year into seasons. Then, first, men had to endure the extremes of heat and cold, and houses became necessary.
Caves were the first dwellings, and leafy coverts of the woods, and huts woven of twigs. Crops would no longer grow without planting. The farmer was obliged to sow the seed, and the toiling ox to draw the plough.
Next came the Brazen Age, more savage of temper, and readier to the strife of arms, yet not altogether wicked. The hardest and worst was the Iron Age. Crime burst in like a flood; modesty, truth, and honour fled.
In their places came fraud and cunning, violence, and the wicked love of gain. Then seamen spread sails to the wind, and the trees were torn from the mountains to serve for keels to ships, and vex the face of the ocean. The earth, which till now had been cultivated in common, began to be divided off into possessions.
Men were not satisfied with what the surface produced, but must dig into its bowels, and draw forth from thence the ores of metals. Mischievous iron, and more mischievous gold, were produced.
Sons wished their fathers dead, that they might come to the inheritance; family love lay prostrate. The earth was wet with slaughter, and the gods abandoned it, one by one, till Astraea 5 alone was left, and finally she also took her departure. After leaving earth, she was placed among the stars, where she became the constellation Virgo — the Virgin.
Themis Justice was the mother of Astraea. She is represented as holding aloft a pair of scales, in which she weighs the claims of opposing parties. It was a favourite idea of the old poets that these goddesses would one day return, and bring back the Golden Age. Jupiter, seeing this state of things, burned with anger. He summoned the gods to council. They obeyed the call, and took the road to the palace of heaven. The road, which any one may see in a clear night, stretches across the face of the sky, and is called the Milky Way.
Along the road stand the palaces of the illustrious gods; the common people of the skies live apart, on either side. Jupiter addressed the assembly. He set forth the frightful condition of things on the earth, and closed by announcing his intention to destroy the whole of its inhabitants, and provide a new race, unlike the first, who would be more worthy of life, and much better worshippers of the gods. So saying he took a thunderbolt, and was about to launch it at the world, and destroy it by burning; but recollecting the danger that such a conflagration might set heaven itself on fire, he changed his plan, and resolved to drown it.
The north wind, which scatters the clouds, was chained up; the south was sent out, and soon covered all the face of heaven with a cloak of pitchy darkness. Jupiter, not satisfied with his own waters, calls on his brother Neptune to aid him with his. He lets loose the rivers, and pours them over the land.
At the same time, he heaves the land with an earthquake, and brings in the reflux of the ocean over the shores. Flocks, herds, men, and houses are swept away, and temples, with their sacred enclosures, profaned. If any edifice remained standing, it was overwhelmed, and its turrets lay hid beneath the waves.
Now all was sea, sea without shore. Here and there an individual remained on a projecting hilltop, and a few, in boats, pulled the oar where they had lately driven the plough. The fishes swim among the tree-tops; the anchor is let down into a garden. Where the graceful lambs played but now.
The wolf swims among the sheep, the yellow lions and tigers struggle in the water. The strength of the wild boar serves him not, nor his swiftness the stag. The birds fall with weary win, into the water, having found no land for a resting-place. Those living beings whom the water spared fell a prey to hunger.
Parnassus alone, of all the mountains, overtopped the waves; and there Deucalion, and his wife Pyrrha, of the race of Prometheus, found refuge — he a just man, and she a faithful worshipper of the gods. Jupiter, when he saw none left alive but this pair, and remembered their harmless lives and pious demeanour, ordered the north winds to drive away the clouds, and disclose the skies to earth, and earth to the skies.
Neptune also directed Triton to blow on his shell, and sound a retreat to the waters. The waters obeyed, and the sea returned to its shores, and the rivers to their channels. Then Deucalion thus addressed Pyrrha: But as we cannot, let us seek yonder temple, and inquire of the gods what remains for us to do.
There they fell prostrate on the earth, and prayed the goddess to inform them how they might retrieve their miserable affairs. Pyrrha first broke silence: At length Deucalion spoke: The earth is the great parent of all; the stones are her bones; these we may cast behind us; and I think this is what the oracle means.
At least, it will do no harm to try. The stones wonderful to relate began to grow soft, and assume shape. By degrees, they put on a rude resemblance to the human form, like a block half finished in the hands of the sculptor. The moisture and slime that were about them became flesh; the stony part became bones; the veins remained veins, retaining their name, only changing their use.
Those thrown by the hand of the man became men, and those by the woman became women. It was a hard race, and well adapted to labour, as we find ourselves to be at this day, giving plain indications of our origin. Prometheus has been a favourite subject with the poets. He is represented as the friend of mankind, who interposed in their behalf when Jove was incensed against them, and who taught them civilization and the arts.
But as, in so doing, he transgressed the will of Jupiter, he drew down on himself the anger of the ruler of gods and men. Jupiter had him chained to a rock on Mount Caucasus, where a vulture preyed on his liver, which was renewed as fast as devoured. But that he disdained to do. He has therefore become the symbol of magnanimous endurance of unmerited suffering, and strength of will resisting oppression.
Byron and Shelley have both treated this theme. A silent suffering, and intense; The rock, the vulture, and the chain; All that the proud can feel of pain; The agony they do not show; The suffocating sense of woe.
And, baffled as thou wert from high, Still, in thy patient energy In the endurance and repulse Of thine impenetrable spirit, Which earth and heaven could not convulse, A mighty lesson we inherit. And share with him- the unforgiven- His vulture and his rock? THE slime with which the earth was covered by the waters of the flood produced an excessive fertility, which called forth every variety of production, both bad and good.
Among the rest, Python, an enormous serpent, crept forth, the terror of the people, and lurked in the caves of Mount Parnassus. Apollo slew him with his arrows — weapons which he had not before used against any but feeble animals, hares, wild goats, and such game. In commemoration of this illustrious conquest he instituted the Pythian games, in which the victor in feats of strength, swiftness of foot, or in the chariot race was crowned with a wreath of beech leaves; for the laurel was not yet adopted by Apollo as his own tree.
The famous statue of Apollo called the Belvedere represents the god after this victory over the serpent Python.
The lord of the unerring bow, The god of life, and poetry, and light, The Sun, in human limbs arrayed, and brow All radiant from his triumph in the fight. It was not brought about by accident, but by the malice of Cupid.
Leave them for hands worthy of them, Behold the conquest I have won by means of them over the vast serpent who stretched his poisonous body over acres of the plain! Be content with your torch, child, and kindle up your flames, as you call them, where you will, but presume not to meddle with my weapons. The former was of gold and ship pointed, the latter blunt and tipped with lead.
With the leaden shaft he struck the nymph Daphne, the daughter of the river god Peneus, and with the golden one Apollo, through the heart. Forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she abhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was in woodland sports and in the spoils of the chase. He admired her hands and arms, naked to the shoulder, and whatever was hidden from view he imagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled, swifter than the wind, and delayed not a moment at his entreaties.
Do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk.
Oliver Stone - Wikipedia
It is for love I pursue you. You make me miserable, for fear you should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and I should be the cause. Pray run slower, and I will follow slower. I am no clown, no rude peasant. Jupiter is my father, and I am lord of Delphos and Tenedos, and know all things, present and future.
I am the god of song and the lyre. My arrows fly true to the mark; but, alas! I am the god of medicine, and know the virtues of all healing plants. I suffer a malady that no balm. And even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her garments, and her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. The god grew impatient to find his wooings thrown away, and, sped by Cupid, gained upon her in the race.
It was like a hound pursuing a hare, with open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal darts forward, slipping from the very grasp. So flew the god and the virgin — he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear.
The pursuer is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and his panting breath blows upon her hair. Her strength begins to fail, and, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god: He touched the stem, and felt the flesh tremble under the new bark.
He embraced the branches, and lavished kisses on the wood. The branches shrank from his lips. I will wear you for my crown; I will decorate with you my harp and my quiver; and when the great Roman conquerors lead up the triumphal pomp to the Capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths for their brows. And, as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be always green, and your leaf know no decay.
That Apollo should be the god both of music and poetry will not appear strange, but that medicine should also be assigned to his province, may. The poet Armstrong, himself a physician, thus accounts for it: Waller applies it to the case of one whose amatory verses, though they did not soften the heart of his mistress, yet won for the poet wide-spread fame: All but the nymph that should redress his wrong, Attend his passion and approve his song.
Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise, He caught at love and filled his arms with bays. The spoilers tempt no second blow; They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them as they go.
Pyramus was the handsomest youth, and Thisbe the fairest maiden, in all Babylonia, where Semiramis reigned. Their parents occupied adjoining houses; and neighbourhood brought the young people together, and acquaintance ripened into love. They would gladly have married, but their parents forbade.
One thing, however, they could not forbid — that love should glow with equal ardour in the bosoms of both. They conversed by signs and glances, and the fire burned more intensely for being covered up. In the wall that parted the two houses there was a crack, caused by some fault in the structure. No one had remarked it before, but the lovers discovered it. What will not love discover! It afforded a passage to the voice; and tender messages used to pass backward and forward through the gap.
As they stood, Pyramus on this side, Thisbe on that, their breaths would mingle. But we will not be ungrateful. We owe you, we confess, the privilege of transmitting loving words to willing, ears. Next morning, when Aurora had put out the stars, and the sun had melted the frost from the grass, they met at the accustomed spot.
It was a white mulberry tree, and stood near a cool spring. All was agreed on, and they waited impatiently for the sun to go down beneath the waters and night to rise up from them. Then cautiously Thisbe stole forth, unobserved by the family, her head covered with a veil, made her way to the monument and sat down under the tree. As she sat alone in the dim light of the evening she descried a lioness, her jaws reeking with recent slaughter, approaching the fountain to slake her thirst.
Thisbe fled at the sight, and sought refuge in the hollow of a rock. As she fled she dropped her veil. The lioness after drinking at the spring turned to retreat to the woods, and seeing the veil on the ground, tossed and rent it with her bloody mouth.
Pyramus, having been delayed, now approached the place of meeting. He saw in the sand the footsteps of the lion, and the colour fled from his cheeks at the sight.
Presently he found the veil all rent and bloody. Thou, more worthy of life than I, hast fallen the first victim. I am the guilty cause, in tempting thee forth to a place of such peril, and not being myself on the spot to guard thee.
Come forth, ye lions, from the rocks, and tear this guilty body with your teeth. The blood spurted from the wound, and tinged the white mulberries of the tree all red; and sinking into the earth reached the roots, so that the red colour mounted through the trunk to the fruit.
By this time Thisbe, still trembling with fear, yet wishing not to disappoint her lover, stepped cautiously forth, looking anxiously for the youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped.
When she came to the spot and saw the changed colour of the mulberries she doubted whether it was the same place. While she hesitated she saw the form of one struggling in the agonies of death. She started back, a shudder ran through her frame as a ripple on the face of the still water when a sudden breeze sweeps over it. But as soon as she recognized her lover, she screamed and beat her breast, embracing the lifeless body, pouring tears into its wounds, and imprinting kisses on the cold lips.
Answer me, Pyramus; it is your own Thisbe that speaks. Hear me, dearest, and lift that drooping head! She saw her veil stained blood and the scabbard empty of its sword. I will follow thee in death, for I have been the cause; and death which alone could part us shall not prevent my joining thee.
And ye, unhappy parents of us both, deny us not our united request. As love and death have joined us, let one tomb contain us. And thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter. Let thy berries still serve for memorials of our blood. Her parents ratified her wish, the gods also ratified it. The two bodies were buried in one sepulchre, and the tree ever after brought forth purple berries, as it does to this day.
The poet is describing the Island of Love: Cephalus and Procris Cephalus was a beautiful youth and fond of manly sports. He would rise before the dawn to pursue the chase. Aurora saw him when she first looked forth, fell in love with him, and stole him away But Cephalus was just married to a charming wife whom he devotedly loved.
Her name was Procris. She was a favourite of Diana, the goddess of hunting, who had given her a dog which could outrun every rival, and a javelin which would never fail of its mark; and Procris gave these presents to her husband. Now it happened some angry deity had sent a ravenous fox to annoy the country; and the hunters turned out in great strength to capture it.
Their efforts were all in vain; no dog could run it down; and at last they came to Cephalus to borrow his famous dog, whose name was Lelaps. No sooner was the dog let loose than he darted off, quicker than their eye could allow him. If they had not seen his footprints in the sand they would have thought he flew. Cephalus and others stood on a hill and saw the race.
The fox tried every art; he ran in a circle and turned on his track, the dog close upon him, with open jaws, snapping at his heels, but biting only the air. Cephalus was about to use his javelin, when suddenly he saw both dog and game stop instantly, The heavenly powers who had given both were not willing that either should conquer. In the very attitude of life and action they were turned into stone. So lifelike and natural did they look, you would have thought, as you looked at them, that one was going to bark, the other to leap forward.
Cephalus, though he had lost his dog, still continued to take delight in the chase. He would go out at early morning, ranging the woods and hills unaccompanied by any one needing no help, for his javelin was a sure weapon in all cases.
Fatigued with hunting, when the sun got high he would seek a shady nook where a cool stream flowed, and, stretched on the grass, with his garments thrown aside, would enjoy the breeze. Procris, at the sudden shock, fainted away. Then she stole out after him, and concealed herself in the place where the informer directed her.
Supposing it some wild animal, he threw his javelin at the spot. A cry from his beloved Procris told him that the weapon had too surely met its mark. He rushed to the place, and found her bleeding, and with sinking strength endeavouring to draw forth from the wound the javelin, her own gift.
Cephalus raised her from the earth, strove to stanch the blood, and called her to revive and not to leave him miserable, to reproach himself with her death. She opened her feeble eyes, and forced herself to utter these few words: She died; but her face wore a calm expression, and she looked pityingly and forgivingly on her husband when he made her understand the truth. JUNO one day perceived it suddenly grow dark, and immediately suspected that her husband had raised a cloud to hide some of his doings that would not bear the light.
She brushed away the cloud, and saw her husband on the banks of a glassy river, with a beautiful heifer standing near him. Juno joined her husband, and noticing the heifer praised its beauty, and asked whose it was, and of what herd. Jupiter, to stop questions, replied that it was a fresh creation from the earth. Juno asked to have it as a gift.
What could Jupiter do? He was loath to give his mistress to his wife; yet how refuse so trifling a present as a simple heifer? He could not, without exciting suspicion; so he consented. The goddess was not yet relieved of her suspicions; so she delivered the heifer to Argus, to be strictly watched. Now Argus had a hundred eyes in his head, and never went to sleep with more than two at a time, so that he kept watch of Io constantly He suffered her to feed through the day, and at night tied her up with a vile rope round her neck.
She would have stretched out her arms to implore freedom of Argus, but she had no arms to stretch out, and her voice was a bellow that frightened even herself. She saw her father and her sisters, went near them, and suffered them to pat her back, and heard them admire her beauty.
Her father reached her a tuft of grass, and she licked the outstretched hand. She longed to make herself known to him and would have uttered her wish; but, alas! Jupiter was troubled at beholding the sufferings of his mistress, and calling, Mercury told him to go and despatch Argus. Mercury made haste, put his winged slippers on his feet, and cap on his head, took his sleep-producing wand, and leaped down from the heavenly towers to the earth. There he laid aside his wings, and kept only his wand, with which he presented himself as a shepherd driving his flock.
As he strolled on he blew upon his pipes. These were what are called the Syrinx or Pandean pipes. Argus listened with delight, for he had never seen the instrument before. There is no better place for your flocks to graze in than hereabouts, and here is a pleasant shade such as shepherds love. Among other stories, Mercury told him how the instrument on which he played was invented.
One day, as she was returning from the chase, Pan met her, told her just this, and added more of the same sort. She ran away, without stopping to hear his compliments, and he pursued till she came to the bank of the river, where be overtook her, and she had only time to call for help on her friends the water nymphs. They heard and consented.
Pan threw his arms around what he supposed to be the form of the nymph and found he embraced only a tuft of reeds! As he breathed a sigh, the air sounded through the reeds, and produced a plaintive melody.
As his head nodded forward on his breast, Mercury with one stroke cut his neck through, and tumbled his head down the rocks. Juno took them and put them as ornaments on the tail of her peacock, where they remain to this day.
But the vengeance of Juno was not yet satiated. She sent a gadfly to torment Io, who fled over the whole world from its pursuit. She swam through the Ionian sea, which derived its name from her, then roamed over the plains of Illyria, ascended Mount Haemus, and crossed the Thracian strait, thence named the Bosphorus cowfordrambled on through Scythia, and the country of the Cimmerians, and arrived at last on the banks of the Nile.
At length Jupiter interceded for her, and upon his promising not to pay her any more attentions Juno consented to restore her to her form. It was curious to see her gradually recover her former self. The coarse hairs fell from her body, her horns shrank up, her eyes grew narrower, her mouth shorter; hands and fingers came instead of hoofs to her forefeet; in fine there was nothing left of the heifer, except her beauty.
At first she was afraid to speak, for fear she should low, but gradually she recovered her confidence and was restored to her father and sisters. In a poem dedicated to Leigh Hunt, by Keats, the following allusion to the story of Pan and Syrinx occurs: Telling us how fair trembling Syrinx fled Arcadian Pan, with such a fearful dread.
Poor nymph- poor Pan- how he did weep to find Nought but a lovely sighing of the wind Along the reedy stream; a half-heard strain, Full of sweet desolation, balmy pain.
Henry Ford - Wikipedia
Callisto was another maiden who excited the jealousy of Juno, and the goddess changed her into a bear. Her hands grew rounded, became armed with crooked claws, and served for feet; her mouth, which Jove used to praise for its beauty, became a horrid pair of jaws; her voice, which if unchanged would have moved the heart to pity, became a growl, more fit to inspire terror.
Yet her former disposition remained, and with continual groaning, she bemoaned her fate, and stood upright as well as she could, lifting up her paws to be, for mercy, and felt that Jove was unkind, though she could not tell him so. Ah, how often, afraid to stay in the woods all night alone, she wandered about the neighbourhood of her former haunts; how often, frightened by the dogs, did she, so lately a huntress, fly in terror from the hunters!
Often she fled from the wild beasts, forgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she was, was afraid of the bears. One day a youth espied her as he was hunting. She saw him and recognized him as her own son, now grown a young man. She stopped and felt inclined to embrace him. As she was about to approach, he, alarmed, raised his hunting spear, and was on the point of transfixing her, when Jupiter, beholding, arrested the crime, and snatching, away both of them, placed them in the heavens as the Great and Little Bear.
Juno was in a rage to see her rival so set in honour, and hastened to ancient Tethys and Oceanus, the powers of ocean, and in answer to their inquiries thus told the cause of her coming: Learn that I am supplanted in heaven — my place is given to another. You will hardly believe me; but look when night darkens the world, and you shall see the two of whom I have so much reason to complain exalted to the heavens, in that part where the circle is the smallest, in the neighborbood of the pole.
Why should any one hereafter tremble at the thought of offending Juno when such rewards are the consequence of my displeasure? See what I have been able to effect! I forbade her to wear the human form — she is placed among the stars! So do my punishments result — such is the extent of my power! Better that she should have resumed her former shape, as I permitted Io to do. Perhaps he means to marry her, and put me away! But you, my foster-parents, if you feel for me, and see with displeasure this unworthy treatment of me, show it, I beseech you, by forbidding this couple from coming into your waters.
Milton alludes to the fact that the constellation of the Bear never sets, when he says: And Prometheus, in J. Towers and battlements it sees Bosomed high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes. Though a rush candle, from the wicker hole Of some clay habitation, visit us With thy long levelled rule of streaming light, And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, Or Tyrian Cynosure.
It was midday, and the sun stood equally distant from either goal, when young Actaeon, son of King Cadmus, thus addressed the youths who with him were hunting the stag in the mountains: Now, while Phoebus parches the earth, let us put by our implements and indulge ourselves with rest.
In the extremity of the valley was a cave, not adorned with art, but nature had counterfeited art in its construction, for she had turned the arch of its roof with stones, as delicately fitted as if by the hand of man. A fountain burst out from one side, whose open basin was bounded by a grassy rim. Here the goddess of the woods used to come when weary with hunting and lave her virgin limbs in the sparkling water.
One day, having repaired thither with her nymphs, she handed her javelin, her quiver, and her bow to one, her robe to another, while a third unbound the sandals from her feet.
Then Crocale, the most skilful of them, arranged her hair, and Nephele, Hyale, and the rest drew water in capacious urns. While the goddess was thus employed in the labours of the toilet, behold Actaeon, having quitted his companions, and rambling without any especial object, came to the place, led thither by his destiny.