their beauty. The youngest sister was the prettiest of the three, and she was gentle, modest, and good natured, and every b

thought her the most beautiful creature in the world. They would say she is fairer than Venus herself. Though Venus was a

uld say she is fairer than Venus herself. Though Venus was a goddess, she was just like a silly woman. She was the most bea

l of all goddesses, and if any mortal was pronounced to be as fair as she , Venus was so jealous, that she was offended at t

ortal was pronounced to be as fair as she, Venus was so jealous, that she was offended at those who pretended to equal her.

Venus resolved to bring some misfortune upon the young princess, and she said, “I will give her the ugliest husband in the

and she said, “I will give her the ugliest husband in the world, and she shall dislike him, and he shall make her miserabl

u must descend to earth, to the palace of a certain king,” whose name she mentioned, “and there you will see a young girl w

d Cupid, interrupting his mother,” would you afflict poor Psyche. Has she despised you? Does she not bring flowers and dove

is mother,” would you afflict poor Psyche. Has she despised you? Does she not bring flowers and doves to your altar, and si

parents have never aught her to celebrate me, and they have declared she is hirer than I. To punish their presumption, you

mother, and they will scold and insult her for her perverseness, and she will be very unhappy. At length you must make her

she will be very unhappy. At length you must make her so foolish that she will marry this disgusting man, and afterwards he

rwards he must appear to her as disagreeable as he truly is, and then she must loathe and hate him, and be very wretched.”

ty fawn that was cropping the grass at her feet, and at the same time she was singing a song. She looked very happy, as she

nd at the same time she was singing a song. She looked very happy, as she drew the flowers one by one from her lap with her

metimes fondly rested has head upon her shoulder, or cropped the rose she would hold to his mouth.    Cupid, when he saw in

to his mouth.    Cupid, when he saw in Psyche’s sweet mild eyes that she would not harm any living thing, and that she lov

’s sweet mild eyes that she would not harm any living thing, and that she loved whatever she looked upon, thought it would

that she would not harm any living thing, and that she loved whatever she looked upon, thought it would be very cruel to ma

lans. — Not to tell his mother his intentions concerning Psyche, lest she should be offended, nor to tell Psyche that he wa

st she should be offended, nor to tell Psyche that he was a god, lest she should imprudently inform some person who he was,

ollo to learn what might happen to her. The oracle informed them that she must be carried to a promontory near the sea, and

e thoughts of parting with her. When the young girl was informed that she must quit the dwelling of her father, and be forc

hat she must quit the dwelling of her father, and be forced to marry, she knew not whom, she was not so distressed as some

he dwelling of her father, and be forced to marry, she knew not whom, she was not so distressed as some timid girls would h

whom, she was not so distressed as some timid girls would have been: she said, “The gods command me to leave my parents, b

e gods that they will take care of me.” Psyche had a good conscience, she knew she had been good, and she hoped no misfortu

at they will take care of me.” Psyche had a good conscience, she knew she had been good, and she hoped no misfortune would

of me.” Psyche had a good conscience, she knew she had been good, and she hoped no misfortune would happen to her. Being co

uld happen to her. Being conducted to the rock, and left there alone, she said to herself, “Now I will prepare myself to se

.” Cupid, desirous to remove Psyche from the desolate I spot to which she was conveyed, repaired to Zephyrus, the god of th

She is alone in that bleak and solitary spot. It is the will of Cupid she should be removed to a delightful palace in the m

midst of a garden in one of the islands, not far from the place where she now is.” Somnus instantly arose, and expanding hi

wreathed with poppies, and when he shook it over the head of Psyche, she fell into a deep sleep. As soon as she was become

ok it over the head of Psyche, she fell into a deep sleep. As soon as she was become insensible to every thing around her,

garden whither Cupid had directed them. When Psyche opened her eyes, she perceived that instead of an expanse of water lyi

, she perceived that instead of an expanse of water lying before her, she was surrounded by a garden of flowers, and at the

I tell you, obey my words, and you will be happy.” Psyche listened — she felt very sorry not to see the face of him who ad

of him who addressed her. His voice was uncommonly sweet. If, thought she , his face should resemble this delightful voice,

so entertaining, and Psyche became so accustomed to his society, that she found it painful to live without it. All day long

s society, that she found it painful to live without it. All day long she only thought of the hour when he would return. On

en he would return. One evening, as Psyche was conversing with Cupid, she said le him, “I have a favour to ask of you. My t

ing her sisters, without appearing very unkind; but he was sorry that she had made the request, because he knew that the pr

sters had left her, when Psyche presumed that her husband was asleep, she arose, and went into the next room for a lamp, wh

was asleep, she arose, and went into the next room for a lamp, which she had purposely placed there. With the lamp in her

amp, which she had purposely placed there. With the lamp in her hand, she next approached the bed when Cupid was lying. Wha

delight of Psyche, when, instead of a distorted and repulsive figure, she beheld one of the loveliest forms and faces imagi

s looked like a half opened flower. She was struck with admiration as she saw revealed to her this lovely object. She could

he wretched culprit caught one of his feet, hoping to detain him, but she was drawn after him into the open air, and instan

remorse, burst into tears, and wept bitterly. The cold earth on which she lay, and the chill air, caused her to shudder all

and the chill air, caused her to shudder all over; and, starting up, she ran she knew not whither, nor did she stop till s

chill air, caused her to shudder all over; and, starting up, she ran she knew not whither, nor did she stop till she found

der all over; and, starting up, she ran she knew not whither, nor did she stop till she found herself upon the bank of a ru

and, starting up, she ran she knew not whither, nor did she stop till she found herself upon the bank of a rushing stream.

stop till she found herself upon the bank of a rushing stream. There she stood, tired and despairing, and fixed her eyes u

pairing, and fixed her eyes upon the river — “Here I may find peace,” she cried: “Receive my body, gentle god of these wate

live, or cease to suffer.” The spirit of the stream heard her, and as she plunged into the waves he upheld her. She became

ok at her. As soon as Venus saw her son, after his return from earth, she perceived that an accident had happened to him, a

n from earth, she perceived that an accident had happened to him, and she inquired why his fair shoulder was covered with t

ich sometimes wrapped his waist. He fled away from her inquiries, but she sought him, and urged him to tell her the truth.

but when his mother importuned him, he told her the whole story, and she was more than ever provoked with Psyche, and was

ed to kill her son, demanded of him to go in pursuit of her, and when she should be found, return to the skies, and inform

form her where the audacious mortal could be found. Poor Psyche, when she had quite come to herself, and felt the warm sun,

he river side and saw her distress, brought her, thought, perhaps, if she should repair to the shrine of some deity and off

she should repair to the shrine of some deity and offer her prayers, she might be instructed how she ought to act. Therefo

rine of some deity and offer her prayers, she might be instructed how she ought to act. Therefore, she wandered into the co

her prayers, she might be instructed how she ought to act. Therefore, she wandered into the country till she came to a rust

d how she ought to act. Therefore, she wandered into the country till she came to a rustic temple that stood on a hill. Thi

their manners by teaching them to respect one another’s property; and she had made them comfortable by giving them bread, a

yche had heard of all the goodness of this compassionate goddess; and she said, “Perhaps, as she has pitied the poor and ig

he goodness of this compassionate goddess; and she said, “Perhaps, as she has pitied the poor and ignorant, she will be gra

ess; and she said, “Perhaps, as she has pitied the poor and ignorant, she will be gracious to me, a foolish and unhappy gir

eing sorry for her folly, may entreat mercy from the good gods.” Then she bent her steps to the temple. She entered the pre

ple by a slight paling, and under the portico which formed the front, she saw the goddess. She was a tall venerable figure,

oking at the scene before her, and so benign was her countenance that she seemed to rejoice in the happiness which she witn

was her countenance that she seemed to rejoice in the happiness which she witnessed, but the soft tread of Psyche’s way-wor

but the soft tread of Psyche’s way-worn feet drew her attention, and she smiled graciously as the young girl knelt down be

Juno, the imperial wife of Jove. Departing from the temple of Ceres, she sought the presence of Juno. Presenting herself b

e sought the presence of Juno. Presenting herself before the goddess, she begged to be granted an asylum from the persecuti

ect thy prayer. I know that Venus is wrong, thus to afflict thee; but she is my daughter-in-law. I cannot make a quarrel wi

offend her should I screen from her displeasure a mortal against whom she is so incensed.” When Psyche heard this refusal,

tal against whom she is so incensed.” When Psyche heard this refusal, she felt as if she should die of despair; but after a

m she is so incensed.” When Psyche heard this refusal, she felt as if she should die of despair; but after a moment she ind

refusal, she felt as if she should die of despair; but after a moment she indulged a hope, that Venus herself might relent,

er a moment she indulged a hope, that Venus herself might relent, and she resolved to throw herself at the feet of the godd

oked her. Venus instantly appeared, and Psyche protested to her, that she had never designed to offend her. She had, it was

for a moment, harboured the thought of murdering her unknown husband: she confessed she had been guilty of that unworthy de

harboured the thought of murdering her unknown husband: she confessed she had been guilty of that unworthy design — she cou

husband: she confessed she had been guilty of that unworthy design — she could not excuse herself — she was sincerely sorr

been guilty of that unworthy design — she could not excuse herself — she was sincerely sorry, but she begged to be forgive

design — she could not excuse herself — she was sincerely sorry, but she begged to be forgiven. She begged to be restored

be forgiven. She begged to be restored to that beloved being of whom she was now deprived. She was an outcast and a wander

nderer: none pitied nor would relieve her. She might be very happy if she could reconcile a goddess who, she knew, was the

ve her. She might be very happy if she could reconcile a goddess who, she knew, was the most beautiful among the immortals.

who, she knew, was the most beautiful among the immortals. She hoped she might receive pardon and favour from her. Venus w

e contrition of Psyche could not move her purpose to afflict her; and she was preparing to denounce some severer punishment

rcury, or Iris, whispered her that Cupid had fallen into a swoon, and she instantly withdrew to discover what was the cause

d pierce her to the heart with the scorn and spite of her hatred, and she was relieved by her absence. Psyche was just revo

ad left her alone, stood looking at the enormous task set before her, she observed the bam floor covered with innumerable a

ime appointed, came to the granary, and perceived that the work which she had allotted to Psyche was accomplished, she imme

ived that the work which she had allotted to Psyche was accomplished, she immediately gave her another trial. ——— “I see, p

— “I see, presumptuous Psyche,” said the queen of love and beauty, as she was sometimes called, “that some power, to me unk

nce, and near the summit of which fed a few sheep. “Go, Psyche,” said she , “to the top of yonder mountain, and bring me a l

of one of those sheep.” Psyche instantly set off, not daring to hope she should ever reach the top of the mountain, which

e. Some power unseen directed her to a safe path, and in a short time she obtained the lock of wool, and presented it to Ve

wool, and presented it to Venus. This did not satisfy her persecutor; she next commanded her to bring some water from a fou

d with fear and trembling proceeded to the fountain; but scarcely had she come in sight of it, when an eagle darted down fr

Psyche knew that Proserpine’s kingdom was the realm of the dead, and she believed she must die before she could be admitte

that Proserpine’s kingdom was the realm of the dead, and she believed she must die before she could be admitted to the land

ngdom was the realm of the dead, and she believed she must die before she could be admitted to the land of ghosts; so she c

d she must die before she could be admitted to the land of ghosts; so she climbed to the top of a high tower, that she migh

o the land of ghosts; so she climbed to the top of a high tower, that she might throw herself down, and thence be conveyed

w herself down, and thence be conveyed to the land of spirits. But as she stood on the verge of the tower, the stones spoke

es spoke, and commanded her to enter a cavern, not far distant, where she would descry a road that led directly to the plac

the grim ferry-man conveyed her over the Styx, twice without pay, and she might have presented the cosmetic to Venus withou

Venus without difficulty, had not Psyche committed a slight fault. As she was rapidly returning to earth, thinking of all t

returning to earth, thinking of all the strange and wonderful things she had seen, she imagined the box that Proserpine ha

earth, thinking of all the strange and wonderful things she had seen, she imagined the box that Proserpine had given her to

w the faded bloom of Venus, must contain some curious substance which she had never seen; she longed to look at it, and to

Venus, must contain some curious substance which she had never seen; she longed to look at it, and to refresh herself with

onged to look at it, and to refresh herself with the delightful odour she fancied it might exhale, and she incautiously ope

sh herself with the delightful odour she fancied it might exhale, and she incautiously opened it. But instead of a deliciou

, a noxious vapour arose from it, and enveloped her like a cloud, and she fell down insensible. Happily for Psyche, Cupid w

She had been tried by many sorrows and much persecution, and now that she had repented of her faults, and been punished for

repented of her faults, and been punished for them, it might be hoped she would be as pure and good as the spirits of light

should be united. Venus was not much pleased with this decision, but she could not dispute the fiat of Jove, and so she wa

ith this decision, but she could not dispute the fiat of Jove, and so she was forced to consent to the marriage of her son.

Walton one day read die story of Cupid and Psyche to her mother. When she had finished reading, they conversed together con

s covered with fragrant flowers. Ceres had a beautiful daughter, whom she loved excessively; this was Proserpine. Ceres oft

often left her daughter with the young maidens her companions, while she made long excursions to instruct the ignorant in

e queen for him, but he knew that her fond mother would never consent she should go to his gloomy kingdom; for such, all wh

the lap of Proserpine, who was to distribute them. “This rose,” said she , “I will give to Maria, it resembles her blushing

, my Licinia, and sweet and modest as thou art, I give to thee,” said she to Licinia. “This lily is fair, like Cyane; take

aven black;” and placing the pure white lily in the hair of Cytheris, she said, “It is here like a star in the dark night.”

ris, she said, “It is here like a star in the dark night.” “Leontia,” she exclaimed, “what suits thee, my friend? Cowslip a

and strong.” “It is indeed the gloomy Pluto,” cried Proserpine, and she stood, not knowing whether to fly or to await the

ly or to await the awful deity. “But he is my father’s brother,” said she , “and shall the daughter of Jove fear him. Ah, I

the daughter of Jove fear him. Ah, I do fear him! Cyane, let us go,” she exclaimed, clasping the hand of Cyane, who clung

e exclaimed, clasping the hand of Cyane, who clung to her robe, as if she would force her away while the damsels, their com

my bride,” he answered, drawing her toward him. “Depart — leave me!” she cried. “Virgins, my friends, do you forsake me?”

away; Farewell, lost Proserpina,” Were the last words of Cyane, for she was transformed into a fountain, and the young gi

her. You shall have a story of Ceres, and that will tell you how much she grieved for her daughter. Ann. Did any person ev

ible we read that Lot’s wife was changed to a pillar of salt. Perhaps she was quite covered over, or encrusted with salt.

. One of this girl’s companions was so frightened and afflicted, when she saw her young friend forced away, that she ran to

htened and afflicted, when she saw her young friend forced away, that she ran to a neighbouring fountain, and drowned herse

, the distracted mother knew not. She went to all the places in which she knew that Proserpine took delight. She saw in Enn

saw in Enna a fountain, whose waters made a mournful murmuring, where she had never seen water before, and the veil of Pros

water before, and the veil of Proserpine lay beside it; this was all she could learn of what had happened. Night came, and

ch all night for the lost one — but her search was vain. The next day she found, by a fountain side, a naiad named Arethusa

ou know me, Arethusa?” asked the wheat-crowned goddess. “Yes; you are she who have gained the hills and valleys which once

ne. Have you never seen or heard of my child?” Arethusa then told her she had seen the descent of her daughter, and the tra

and the transformation of Cyane. No sooner had Ceres heard this, than she instantly harnessed two dragons to her car, flew

ou may have your daughter,” answered Jupiter to her supplication, “if she has not tasted food, in the kingdom of Pluto; but

ication, “if she has not tasted food, in the kingdom of Pluto; but if she has, she cannot be restored to you. But why do yo

“if she has not tasted food, in the kingdom of Pluto; but if she has, she cannot be restored to you. But why do you wish to

icked are mingled with the virtuous?” Ceres loved herself better than she loved her daughter. So she preferred to recover P

virtuous?” Ceres loved herself better than she loved her daughter. So she preferred to recover Proserpine rather than suffe

th. It happened that as Proserpine was walking in the Elysian fields, she had plucked a pomegranate and eat it. It does not

erpine was honest enough to tell the truth to her mother or to Pluto; she hoped she had not been seen, but one Ascalaphus s

honest enough to tell the truth to her mother or to Pluto; she hoped she had not been seen, but one Ascalaphus saw her eat

, and metamorphosed him into an owl. Ceres was so miserable, now that she must lose her daughter, that Pluto consented she

miserable, now that she must lose her daughter, that Pluto consented she should dwell with her mother half of the year, an

ould dwell with her mother half of the year, and the rest of the time she should remain with Pluto. Becubo’s son. Wh

son. While Ceres was making search for Proserpine through Sicily, she seemed like a common woman, and the peasants of S

f Sicily did not take her for a goddess. It is related that one night she stopped at the door of a poor cottage, quite over

rself not far off. Becubo offered Ceres a dish of the polenta, and as she was very hungry, she devoured it voraciously. The

cubo offered Ceres a dish of the polenta, and as she was very hungry, she devoured it voraciously. The little boy of Becubo

y, though it does not appear that he was more greedy and selfish than she was, and she darted at him a look of displeasure.

does not appear that he was more greedy and selfish than she was, and she darted at him a look of displeasure. His mother e

ou not ashamed. This poor woman is weary, and almost famished. Surely she wants a good supper more than you.” Ceres was mor

more offended at the poor child than he deserved; for, to punish him, she threw in his face the contents of her dish, and t

r liberality. Ann. I think Ceres was neither just nor grateful, when she punished Becubo’s son so severely for so small a

s and Progne were married, and left Athens. Progne wept bitterly when she took leave of her amiable sister, Philomela. Prog

happily enough in Thrace for a few years. She had a little boy, whom she named Itys, and she loved him dearly. When Itys w

hrace for a few years. She had a little boy, whom she named Itys, and she loved him dearly. When Itys was about a year old,

ereus had not brought Progne with him. Tereus told him the reason why she staid behind, and the old man was then satisfied.

r’s company. When Philomela saw her father’s reluctance to spare her, she entreated him herself. “Permit me,” she said, “to

er’s reluctance to spare her, she entreated him herself. “Permit me,” she said, “to go with Tereus. You know Progne cannot

the pleasure of seeing her once more. You forget how long it is since she left us. Think how unhappy she must be never to s

more. You forget how long it is since she left us. Think how unhappy she must be never to see her father and her sister. Y

the gods.” While Philomela was thus urging the consent of her father, she tenderly pressed his hand, and looked lovingly in

which belonged to him, near the coast, and that be would tell Progne she was dead; and perhaps he might persuade Philomela

r prison, and stay with her when it pleased him. Poor Philomela, when she left the vessel, did not know any thing of this v

hither he led her, presuming he was conducting her to her sister; and she quickened her steps through the thick wood into w

steps through the thick wood into which Tereus had entered, supposing she should soon embrace Progne and Itys. At length th

nded by a high wall. Philomela saw nobody there but an old woman, and she felt a strange alarm at her situation. Fatigued w

Fatigued with her walk, and not knowing what was about to befall her, she sat down and burst into tears. Tereus said, prete

uilty proposal, demanded of Tereus to set her at liberty. “Base man,” she cried, “did not you promise my father to be kind

returned to his own house. Progne was grieved and disappointed, when she saw her husband returned without Philomela, and e

being able to inform her sister of her unhappy condition; but at last she devised an expedient that might communicate her m

ictures, or hieroglyphics. Philomela made signs to the old woman that she wanted a piece of cloth, and materials for embroi

for embroidery She pitied the poor young creature, alone and route as she was, and thought if she could have something to e

d the poor young creature, alone and route as she was, and thought if she could have something to employ herself about, she

was, and thought if she could have something to employ herself about, she would feel a little reconciled to her unhappy sta

lf about, she would feel a little reconciled to her unhappy state; so she procured Philomela the articles she wanted. Philo

conciled to her unhappy state; so she procured Philomela the articles she wanted. Philomela soon wrought upon the cloth the

oth the figure of herself, and of Tereus cutting out her tongue. When she has finished her work, she made signs to the old

and of Tereus cutting out her tongue. When she has finished her work, she made signs to the old woman to carry it to the qu

of a magnificent reward induced the old woman to obey Philomela, and she hastened off to the queen with the embroidery. Pr

to the queen with the embroidery. Progne received her favourably, and she delivered to her the web. Philomela was accustome

e embroidery was hers, and with inexpressible indignation and sorrow, she learned the condition of her sister. Her first de

her sister. Her first desire was to release her from confinement, and she bribed the old woman to tell her where Philomela

of Bacchus. Progne was among them, and the old woman also, from whom she had got the web of Philomela; the latter guided P

whom she had got the web of Philomela; the latter guided Prague, and she took a course which her companions followed. They

nd extended her bands in speechless supplication, to the first female she saw. In a moment Progne recognised her abused sis

inflict the greatest possible suffering upon Tereus, and to do that, she killed their child, Itys. When the guilty father

nger before. He was the same who carried off his uncle’s daughter, as she was watering the flock with her two brothers at t

Baucis, the mistress of the house said, “Nay; stay you a minute;” and she quickly found cushions stuffed with straw, which

u a minute;” and she quickly found cushions stuffed with straw, which she put upon the bench. “These,” she said, “will ease

d cushions stuffed with straw, which she put upon the bench. “These,” she said, “will ease your weary limbs.” They were the

. “These,” she said, “will ease your weary limbs.” They were the best she had, and, though coarse, were as comfortable as a

uncovered coals, which brightened and glowed as the air fanned them; she next applied to them brushwood and chips. A thick

t applied to them brushwood and chips. A thick volume of smoke arose; she gently blowed the kindling coals with her breath,

in for Baucis to cook for supper. Having selected the best of these, she drew down with a long fork, a gammon of bacon whi

was too busy to join in the conversation. But, without saying a word, she took down from certain pegs two snow-white beeche

r his feet, which were soiled with dust; and after they were cleaned, she wiped them dry with her own hands. She next sprea

ed them over with old garments, as a couch for the guests. This done, she took out the supper table; one leg was broken, hu

ts. This done, she took out the supper table; one leg was broken, hut she put a smooth stone under it, and made the table s

put a smooth stone under it, and made the table stand even, and then she rubbed it all over with mint, which afforded a pl

and olives, did not satisfy the liberality of Baucis; those removed, she set on a second course. Plums and apples, nuts an

ey are not men,” said Philemon to Baucis, softly; “come with me;” and she followed him to the little yard of the cottage. T

, “save our old goose yonder.” “The old 6 goose — nobody knew how old she was — had served them as a sentry for forty years

door, which stood a little open, and the old couple pursued her; but she entered the cottage, and took refuge between the

ur we may cease to breathe.” “We beg one hour of death, that neither she With widow’s tears may live to bury me, Nor weepi

t Philomela bewailed her misfortunes in sweet melancholy music, which she made chiefly in the night. That is what the night

f that goddess. Minerva was honoured by young girls particularly, for she was skilful in embroidery, in spinning, and weavi

rly, for she was skilful in embroidery, in spinning, and weaving, and she was industrious and modest. In some of the statue

g, and she was industrious and modest. In some of the statues of her, she was not drawn in her military costume, or apparel

in the dress of a female, having a distaff in her hand, to show that she was the patroness of female industry. Among the m

nd immediately descended the king’s house that he might be there when she should return from the sacrifice. Aglauria, the e

ust pay for them. My sister will soon return from the temple, whither she is now gone, and when she comes, she will go to t

r will soon return from the temple, whither she is now gone, and when she comes, she will go to the apartment of the ladies

return from the temple, whither she is now gone, and when she comes, she will go to the apartment of the ladies of our hou

ion. If you will give me money enough, I will conduct you to her, and she will present you to my sister.” Minerva was near,

to my sister.” Minerva was near, and overheard this conversation, and she detested this mean proposal of Aglauria. She knew

ria, that her sister should be preferred to herself. Minerva saw that she envied her sister, and that she felt the bad pass

referred to herself. Minerva saw that she envied her sister, and that she felt the bad passion of avarice, which is the lov

ney. Minerva determined to punish Aglauria for these odious vices, so she sought out Envy, who was a deformed and disgustin

un never entered, and it was stained all over with the bipod of those she had wounded or killed. When Minerva entered this

epast. Minerva’s countenance exhibited a severe and awful beauty, and she was clothed in that radiant armour which dazzled

clothed in that radiant armour which dazzled every beholder. Envy, as she advanced toward her, could not bear the sight of

advanced toward her, could not bear the sight of this noble form. But she arose, drew her ragged mantle over her shrunk per

elf, could not converse without pain with so spiteful a being, though she sometimes employed her to punish the wicked. On t

gh she sometimes employed her to punish the wicked. On this occasion, she laid her commands upon Envy in a few words. “Go,”

occasion, she laid her commands upon Envy in a few words. “Go,” said she , “to the royal palace at Athens. You know the pri

she, “to the royal palace at Athens. You know the princess Aglauria; she grieves because her sister is beloved, and she is

the princess Aglauria; she grieves because her sister is beloved, and she is neglected; and she intends, as much as she can

she grieves because her sister is beloved, and she is neglected; and she intends, as much as she can, to disturb the amiab

sister is beloved, and she is neglected; and she intends, as much as she can, to disturb the amiable Herse. It is my will

miserable themselves, therefore make her as unhappy as you can. When she finds that her selfish, envious disposition makes

n she finds that her selfish, envious disposition makes her wretched, she will cease to persecute her sister, and will try

to the cheerful light of day. Envy cast a scowling look upon her, as she departed, but the office of punishment suited her

d taking a crooked stick in her hand, and wrapping herself in a mist, she pursued her way to the palace of Cecrops, and gli

had thrown herself down upon her couch, vexed and mortified; for when she promised to admit Mercury to her sister, for a su

at her, and withdrew instantly from the room. What was become of him she knew not. She supposed he might be gone to tormen

slaves, and whose office it was, one to bear a folded seat, on which she might rest if she were tired; and the other to he

office it was, one to bear a folded seat, on which she might rest if she were tired; and the other to held over her head a

xpected to see her safe home again. Aglauria could not sleep quietly; she dreamed that she saw her sister walking homeward,

r safe home again. Aglauria could not sleep quietly; she dreamed that she saw her sister walking homeward, along a retired

g homeward, along a retired way, from the temple of Minerva, and that she accidentally dropped her veil. One of her maiden

oment, a cold, withered hand was laid upon the bosom of Aglauria, and she seemed to breathe a pestiferous atmosphere. The h

he a pestiferous atmosphere. The hand was that of Envy, and, wherever she came, the very air seemed to be filled with her p

the chilling touch, changed her position, and slept again, and again she dreamed. She beheld the same youth, who had prese

beheld the same youth, who had presented the veil to her sister, but she now distinctly saw his winged cap and the folded

nctly saw his winged cap and the folded pinions on his shoulders, and she recognised in him the god who mounts the wind. He

ight, sleep fled, and Aglauria started from her pillow. “This dream,” she cried, “is false, or I will make it so. Some evil

will ask him to bestow my sister immediately upon a mortal, and then she cannot be given to a god. Mercury himself respect

hen took her way to the garden, which was near the house. She thought she could meditate there without interruption, upon s

re without interruption, upon some plan to disappoint Mercury. But as she stood at the door, about to descend into the gard

m. He pleaded in vain; Aglauria still stood in the doorway, nor would she suffer him to pass. At length Mercury’s patience

her. The moral belongs properly to Aglauria. Aglauria was envious, so she was unhappy; and malignant, or spiteful, and she

uria was envious, so she was unhappy; and malignant, or spiteful, and she was turned to stone, or made more hard-hearted. T

gods, and perhaps they believed it Ann. What did Aglauria mean, when she said an “evil genius” sent her a dream? Mother.

ry. Narcissus. Lyriope, a sea-nymph, had a pretty infant, whom she named Narcissus. Like the parents of Psyche, she

pretty infant, whom she named Narcissus. Like the parents of Psyche, she wished to know what would be the future fortune o

she wished to know what would be the future fortune of her child; and she went to Tiresias, an old prophet who dwelt in the

Tiresias heard what each party had to say, and then he told Juno that she had been wrong, and Jupiter was right. Jupiter wa

ee their faces in. Lyriope certainly had none in the coral cave where she dwelt; so little Narcissus might be kept there fr

otice of her; and that neglect mortified the poor nymph so much, that she pined away, till nothing could be found of her bu

its woods and solitary places, and always repeats the last word which she hears. The nymphs, vexed at Narcissus for his uns

low a certain heifer, which he should soon meet in the way, and where she should stop, and lie down, to commence a new city

tain of Castalia. He there perceived a young heifer without a keeper; she was walking slowly before him. Cadmus, obedient t

y, made it resound with her loud and continual lowings. After a while she ceased, and lay down on the grass to rest. Cadmus

ed before him. Minerva was sorry to see Cadmus so much afflicted, and she soon counselled him how to proceed. She commanded

She commanded him to sow the earth with the teeth of the dragon; and she informed him that from these teeth would spring w

ight of Europa. Mother. I suppose a man came to the sea-coast, where she was amusing herself; that a bull’s head was sculp

er guided Cadmus? Mother. He might have followed a heifer; and where she lay down might have been a spot on which he thoug

to any man to enter her domain. Diana was a modest female deity, and she watched over modest young girls. Acteon did not k

ncensed that a man should enter her sacred grove. In her displeasure, she snatched up some water in the hollow of her hand,

s.” Juno was not much inclined to pass the triple-headed monster; so she called the Daughters of Night, who were the keepe

y unbarred the heavy gates of burnished brass, and admitted her. Here she saw giants who had revolted against Jupiter, and

no cast an unpitying look at them, and turned toward Sisyphus. To him she exclaimed, “Eternal toil and eternal fatigue is y

e furies soon learned Juno’s errand; and Tisiphone, having heard what she had to say, shaking her head, to throw back the s

nd round, and mutter curses, and pray that harm might happen to those she meant to hurt These muttered words were the incan

uple stood motionless and pale with fear. Tisiphone soon roused them; she shook from a vial she held in her hand, a shower

and pale with fear. Tisiphone soon roused them; she shook from a vial she held in her hand, a shower of her deleterious liq

arras, fled from his pursuit to the verge of a precipice, from which she fell into the sea. Venus pitied poor Ino and her

which she fell into the sea. Venus pitied poor Ino and her child, and she besought Neptune to place them among the marine d

he suddenly caused the vessel to stop in the midst of the sea, where she became immoveable as a rock, and her sails, corda

ed head, those of his beloved grandson, and soon convinced Agave that she was exulting in the death of her son. Too late, A

e death of her son. Too late, Agave saw the atrocity of such conduct; she beat her breast, and tore her hair, but she could

atrocity of such conduct; she beat her breast, and tore her hair, but she could not restore life to the dead. Cadmus grieve

er guilty conduct. The sight of a thyrsus became shocking to her, and she never went near mount Citheron; for there the rec

would kill him. Acrisius thought if his daughter were never married, she could have no son to kill him, and therefore he s

it was called a god: afterward, Jupiter gave Danæ a little son, whom she called Perseus. As soon as Acrisius heard of the

nfined, stood on a rock on the sea coast, and her father ordered that she and her infant should be put into a chest, and th

ce; “give me your child, and follow me to my cabin. There is my wife; she will welcome you; and I will present myself to th

the rocks. At the door stood the good Aglauria, the fisherman’s wife; she was expecting her husband, but was much surprised

pecting her husband, but was much surprised at the sight of Danæ, for she had never, in her life, seen a lady so dressed, a

and weariness depressed her head, and caused her limbs to tremble, as she tried to keep up with the pace of Dictys. Aglauri

tys. Aglauria looked at the strange lady, and then at her husband, as she saw them approach near, but did not speak a word.

ch was the best the poor woman had, but there, after all her fatigue, she found rest and refreshment. Danæ and her little b

s, and told him her story; he immediately sent a chariot for her, and she and the young Perseus were removed to the palace.

rseus were removed to the palace. When Danæ left the fisherman’s hut, she thanked the fisherman and his wife over and over

and his wife over and over again, for all their goodness; and hoped, she said, that one day or other she should be able to

n, for all their goodness; and hoped, she said, that one day or other she should be able to repay them. ——— Perseus grew up

Hesiod. These verses show that Medusa was destined to die, therefore she might be killed; but her sisters were immortal. M

d; but her sisters were immortal. Medusa had been very beautiful, but she once behaved improperly in Minerva’s temple. Mine

into the most frightful ugliness, and her fine hair into snakes; and she looked so dreadful, that when others looked at he

re he beheld Andromeda, the king’s daughter, chained to a rock, where she was expecting, in unspeakable anguish, to be devo

was a vain, silly woman. She boasted of her own beauty, and said that she was handsomer than Juno or the Nereides. Neptune,

blue-haired” deities. Neptune was offended with Cassiope, and because she was a queen, laid her whole kingdom under water.

the gods to take pity on her, but her eyes met those of Perseus, whom she imagined to be Mercury, whose wings he wore. “Tho

y, whose wings he wore. “Thou art come to my relief, gracious power,” she exclaimed. “Thou hast heard my prayer.” Perseus i

hast heard my prayer.” Perseus instantly descended to the spot where she stood, her delicate arm bound by a heavy chain at

how came you to be in this sad condition? Andromeda then related how she was exposed to the sea monster, to appease the an

Perseus easily broke the chain and releasing the arm of the princess, she gave him her hand, and he restored her to her fat

, as he had been of her son, and to protect herself from his insults, she went to the temple of Minerva, whither no person

n the cabin of Dictys. Her ancient benefactor was not forgotten. When she fled from the palace of Polydectes to the temple,

d to the shield, but Minerva did not always carry it about; only when she designed to punish foe wicked, she clothed hersel

t always carry it about; only when she designed to punish foe wicked, she clothed herself in her “gorgon-terrors,” in order

h sting and bite; and that her garments are stained with bleed, which she has drawn from innocent persons, because envious

who was Lucifer? Mother. Lucifer is a name of the planet Venus, when she rises before the sun, and is called the Morning S

ning Star. When that star is seen at evening, just after sunset, then she is Vesper and Hesperus, in poetry, but we commonl

in poetry, but we commonly say the Evening Star, and a beautiful star she is. Ann. One or two questions more and I will ha

and Calliope.” Soon after Minerva had received the head of Medusa, she went to pay a visit to the Muses. These were nine

never married, was sometimes called the martial, or warlike maid, and she was often seen with a spear in her hand, a helmet

, and her terrible shield on one arm; but this day, at Mount Helicon, she put off her warlike attire, and was dressed in a

ke attire, and was dressed in a beautiful robe, and a long veil which she embroidered herself. The sisters were delighted w

h she embroidered herself. The sisters were delighted with the honour she did them; they seated themselves around her, in a

had lately gushed from the rock long sealed and dry. “We have,” said she , “called the fountain Hippocrene, for our winged

Minerva proposed they should all go to the fountain, and immediately she and the nine sisters took their way thither. Whil

ey adore, for their sakes, the ox, the ibis, and the ichneumon. “When she princess of Pieria had ended her strain, Calliope

ope took her turn. The hills resounded to the melody of her voice, as she sung the gifts of Ceres: to man she gave the plou

ed to the melody of her voice, as she sung the gifts of Ceres: to man she gave the plough and the spade, the scythe and the

and the sickle. She taught him the seasons of seed-time and harvest; she gave him the yellow wheat and the fragrant pea; a

and harvest; she gave him the yellow wheat and the fragrant pea; and she it is who pours out the milky draught for his chi

ion ought to be mortified.” “Has this spring any peculiar qualities?” she then asked. “Yes,” answered Polyhymnia. “You know

ecline in the west; Minerva knew that then the gods expected her, and she left the sisters in the pleasant grove, promising

deous serpent, hatched in the mud of the Nile, called the Python, and she employed him to torment Latona. Wherever Latona w

used to protect Latona, but Neptune metamorphosed her to a quail, and she flew off from the continent, perhaps of Africa, t

should be wounded by the leaden one would dislike the first one he or she should look upon. Cupid aimed the former at Apoll

thought her very beautiful, and he looked at her with admiration; but she felt an extreme dislike to him, and, turning from

n extreme dislike to him, and, turning from him, fled away as fast as she could. Apollo was beautiful and eloquent, but nei

nd eloquent, but neither his beauty nor his eloquence pleased Daphne; she would not listen to him, though he urged her with

” Daphne heard, but would not be detained. Fleet as the fearful fawn, she hurried from the soft, tender voice of Apollo, an

with more than mortal swiftness, pursued her. He overtook her just as she reached the banks of the Peneus. There, sinking d

hed the banks of the Peneus. There, sinking down by the river’s side, she entreated her father to hear her prayer. “O, fath

ver’s side, she entreated her father to hear her prayer. “O, father!” she cried, “I detest Apollo, but still he pursues me.

n her temple at Argos. Jupiter once observed this beautiful nymph, as she was returning from a visit to her father, and ins

o served at her altars to hold any conversation with her husband, and she fled from the sire of the gods, with the speed of

with the speed of an arrow from the bow. Io was in Arcadia; and while she rapidly coursed along the borders of the lake of

and while she rapidly coursed along the borders of the lake of Lerna, she was checked in her flight by Jupiter, who followe

fright, at this strange appearance, Io uttered piercing shrieks, but she was relieved by the gentlest accents. “Fear nothi

accosted her in her return from her paternal home, and thus stopped, she listened with trembling to her divine admirer. At

aven, saw the country of Peloponnesus involved in midnight gloom, and she hastened to the thunderer to inquire the cause of

tion. Jupiter was absent from Olympus, and when Juno discovered this, she instantly suspected that he was the cause of that

d that he was the cause of that noonday darkness. To satisfy herself, she immediately took her car, drawn by peacocks, and

The cloud gradually dispersed as Juno came nearer to earth, and when she found herself by the side of Jupiter, the bright

ning beneath a shady tree. As soon as Juno saw this beautiful animal, she admired her pearly horns and velvet ears, and inq

r pearly horns and velvet ears, and inquired of Jupiter to whose herd she belonged, and finally ended by begging of him to

that the heifer was some mortal lady, and a favourite of Jupiter, so she resolved to take good care of her. In order to do

piter, so she resolved to take good care of her. In order to do this, she gave her in charge to Argus, a person renowned fo

Io into the fields, and at night he shut her up securely. One day, as she was grazing on the banks of the Inachus, the love

on the banks of the Inachus, the loved scene of her youthful sports, she perceived her father, and approached him with fam

with her large rough tongue. Io longed to communicate to Inachus that she was his lost daughter, and at length fell upon th

divine or human. One day as Syrinx was descending from Mount Lyceus, she met the god Pan, a rural deity, who was a great f

was a great favourite in Arcadia. Pan accosted the modest Syrinx, but she did not reply to him; she only ran away. Pan ran

rcadia. Pan accosted the modest Syrinx, but she did not reply to him; she only ran away. Pan ran after her, and, when he ov

adorn that party-coloured bird. Juno now hated Io more than ever, and she drove her from place to place by a most cruel con

a large gad-fly, which followed and tormented the unhappy Io wherever she went. Driven to madness by her incessant persecut

iterranean, at that part since called from her the Ionian Sea; thence she passed over Illyria and Thrace, swam across the B

ersing Asia, pursued her career into Africa. Being arrived in Africa, she became calm, knelt down, and raising her head tow

tinual lowing, to take pity on her sufferings. Io’s prayer was heard; she was restored to her human form, and afterward bec

hæton. “The world’s vice luminary.” It is related that Io, after she became queen of Egypt, had a son named Epaphus, w

lived in Mæonia, of Asia Minor, and had heard of the fate of Arachne; she was shocked at the injustice of Minerva, and used

mplain of the tyrannical disposition of that goddess; and, at length, she despised all the gods and goddesses, and their wo

people to be more zealous in their devotions. “Haste, Thebans,” said she , “to the worship of Latona; bind your brows with

r history, you must know that, previous to the birth of her children, she had not a dwelling, and Terra refused her one, so

children, she had not a dwelling, and Terra refused her one, so that she can have no power to bestow any thing upon you. “

pon you. “If a mortal deserves your homage, behold your queen; is not she worthy of your veneration? — the daughter of Tant

the merits of Niobe and hers.” Such was the eloquence of Niobe, that she prevailed upon the capricious Thebans to throw aw

d by the same unseen darts; and while the youngest of them yet lived, she covered her with her robe, entreating with bitter

her, left alone of all, sat the mute image of despair. In this state, she was hardened to stone, and transported by a whirl

ed this lake, then pure and transparent, and hastening to the margin, she eagerly knelt down to drink. Some peasants, who w

exclaimed, ‘Henceforward, be this lake thy habitation!’ Scarcely had she pronounced these words, when they were all change

by the time you have read all the stories I am going to tell you; for she was selfish and jealous, and, like all such peopl

estern sky. She was also the goddess of hunting; and, in the daytime, she wandered through the green woods, with her arrows

ite bird. She spent much of her time in weaving and embroidering, for she was very fond of this pastime. And then there was

l love. Almost everybody loved Callisto and her little son Arcas; for she was fair and good, and kind to all who knew her.

and kind to all who knew her. She had a very joyous nature, and when she went hunting in the forests with her companions,

ure, and when she went hunting in the forests with her companions, as she often did, she was always the leader of the merry

he went hunting in the forests with her companions, as she often did, she was always the leader of the merry party. She dea

Juno could not bear to look at Callisto, and the lovelier and fairer she grew, the more the queen of heaven seemed to hate

last, one day when Juno met her in the forest, hunting and singing as she went along, all bitter feelings seemed to rush in

along, all bitter feelings seemed to rush into her heart at once; and she hated Callisto so much that she could no longer b

d to rush into her heart at once; and she hated Callisto so much that she could no longer bear to see her. So she did a ver

e hated Callisto so much that she could no longer bear to see her. So she did a very cruel thing, — she raised her hand and

she could no longer bear to see her. So she did a very cruel thing, —  she raised her hand and spoke a few magic words. In a

rushed through the forest, hiding in caves and behind trees whenever she heard the patter of feet on the ground. For altho

dy was like a bear’s, her thoughts and feelings were still human, and she feared the wild beasts of the woods. For fifteen

ney and berries were her food the running brooks, her drink. At night she slept in the hollow of a tree or in some dark cav

night she slept in the hollow of a tree or in some dark cavern. Often she heard the voices of her former friends, as they w

of her former friends, as they went hunting over the hills; and then she trembled and crouched behind the trees, for she d

r the hills; and then she trembled and crouched behind the trees, for she did not want them to find her. Many a time her th

them to find her. Many a time her thoughts went back to that day when she had last seen her little son, and she wondered wh

ghts went back to that day when she had last seen her little son, and she wondered what had become of the boy. So thrice fi

within a few feet of him, a great, shaggy bear. Callisto, for it was she , did not hear the sound of footsteps until it was

t hear the sound of footsteps until it was too late to hide, and then she turned to see who was coming. In an instant, in s

o see who was coming. In an instant, in spite of the many years since she had last seen him, the mother knew her son; and s

many years since she had last seen him, the mother knew her son; and she gazed with wondering eyes at the child who had gr

to speak; but of course her growling would have frightened Arcas, so she merely kept her eyes fixed on him. At first Arcas

n any starry night and think of their story. Juno was very angry when she saw the newly-made stars twinkling in the sky. Sh

the stars entering Neptune’s ocean palace. Neptune promised to do as she wished, and he kept his word, for from that day t

ple on the great, wide earth. Ceres had one fair young daughter, whom she loved very dearly. And no wonder, for Proserpine

n. Ceres searched for her in all the rooms, but they were empty. Then she lighted a great torch from the fires of a volcano

ring among the fields, looking for her child. When morning broke, and she had found no trace of Proserpine, her grief was t

n that sad day, Ceres began a long, long wandering. Over land and sea she journeyed, bearing in her right hand the torch wh

d with endless seeking, and answered that until Proserpine was found, she could think only of her child, and could not care

earth in her fruitless search, Ceres returned to Sicily. One day, as she was passing a river, suddenly a little swell of w

of water carried something to her feet. Stooping to see what it was, she picked up the girdle which Proserpine had long ag

girdle which Proserpine had long ago thrown to the water nymph. While she was looking at it, with tears in her eyes, she he

the water nymph. While she was looking at it, with tears in her eyes, she heard a fountain near her bubbling louder and lou

ple on earth; and he said that Proserpine might return to her home if she had tasted no food while in Pluto’s kingdom. So t

ine had eaten six pomegranate seeds; and for every one of those seeds she was doomed each year to spend a month underground

people say that Proserpine really is the spring time, and that while she is with us all the earth seems fair and beautiful

e Latona’s life was very unhappy. Juno hated the gray-eyed woman; and she treated her so badly, and was so unkind to her, t

ad to flee from place to place, to escape the queen’s anger. One day, she came to a stream; and there lay a little rowboat

quiet and restful, and poor Latona was so tired and discouraged, that she stepped into the boat and pushed it off from the

he shore. She sat down, her hands folded in her lap, softly crying as she drifted along. Night came, and still the little b

as though’ they wished to comfort Latona. It seemed a long time since she had left the land, although it was only a few hou

had left the land, although it was only a few hours. Toward morning, she was startled from her sorrow by the grating of th

led from her sorrow by the grating of the keel on the shore; and when she looked up, she saw that she had drifted to a litt

rrow by the grating of the keel on the shore; and when she looked up, she saw that she had drifted to a little island. It w

rating of the keel on the shore; and when she looked up, she saw that she had drifted to a little island. It was a pretty p

heart again and stepped out of the boat to explore the little kingdom she had found. Nor was she disappointed. Berries and

out of the boat to explore the little kingdom she had found. Nor was she disappointed. Berries and fruits of all kinds gre

ay asleep.” Latona and her Children ( Rinehart ). One sad day, when she was sitting in the sunshine with her children, a

oking cloud spread over the sky; and when Latona looked up toward it, she saw Juno standing before her. With harsh words, t

once; and, although it made Latona very sad to go from the home where she had been so happy, she hastened away, for she fea

made Latona very sad to go from the home where she had been so happy, she hastened away, for she feared that otherwise Juno

go from the home where she had been so happy, she hastened away, for she feared that otherwise Juno might harm her two bea

she feared that otherwise Juno might harm her two beautiful babes. So she took a little one in each arm, and again set fort

hirst. The two babes in her arms sometimes seemed to weigh like lead, she was so tired from walking all day long. Yet her c

feet, and her throat dry and parched for lack of water, when suddenly she saw in the distance a clump of trees, and a glimm

e water amid the green. The hope of relief gave her new strength, and she hastened toward the spot. When she came to it, sh

relief gave her new strength, and she hastened toward the spot. When she came to it, she found a lake of clear, blue water

new strength, and she hastened toward the spot. When she came to it, she found a lake of clear, blue water. All about it t

with her lips, for both her arms were burdened with the children. But she started up again, when the men, in a very rude an

it. But the men only renewed their rude talk and threatened that, if she did not go away, they would do her some harm. The

plead, with tears in her eyes. “Surely, if you have no pity for me,” she said, “you cannot be so cruel to these little chi

to these little children who stretch out their arms to you.” And, as she put aside her cloak, the little boy and girl real

drink. Then Latona became very angry, and raising her eyes to heaven she cried, “If there is any one to hear me, and any j

atona, her time of suffering was almost over. The twin babes for whom she had borne so much, grew up to repay her, as well

eir mother that her lightest wish was a law to them, and nothing that she asked of them was left ungranted. ——— The Brook

Narcissus This is the story of a maiden who came to grief because she talked too much, and because she always wanted to

f a maiden who came to grief because she talked too much, and because she always wanted to have the last word. You can find

places, and takes delight in mockingly answering back. Poor Echo! Now she is nothing but a voice, but there was a time when

Poor Echo! Now she is nothing but a voice, but there was a time when she danced and sang in the green woods with the other

reen woods with the other nymphs. She had one great fault, however, —  she was too talkative; and the worst of it was, she t

eat fault, however, — she was too talkative; and the worst of it was, she told such interesting stories that her listeners

earth and listen by the hour to Echo’s delightful tales. But one day she found out that Echo amused her in this way only t

red of Juno, and wished to be alone. Juno was very angry at Echo; and she punished her in rather a queer way, by taking fro

r a queer way, by taking from her the power of that tongue with which she had been too ready. Poor Echo found that she coul

f that tongue with which she had been too ready. Poor Echo found that she could no longer speak; she could only mimic the l

e had been too ready. Poor Echo found that she could no longer speak; she could only mimic the last words of others. Now th

by the tall oak tree in which Echo lived. The moment the girl saw him she fell in love with him; and she followed him throu

cho lived. The moment the girl saw him she fell in love with him; and she followed him through the woods, longing for the p

m through the woods, longing for the power to speak to him. But alas! she could not speak. They went on in this way for som

d not dare show herself, for fear that he might be angry, but you see she could not help answering. At last Narcissus, who

y glad tone, and stepping from behind the tree, ran to meet him. When she came up to him, she tried to throw her arms aroun

pping from behind the tree, ran to meet him. When she came up to him, she tried to throw her arms around his neck, to tell

r into the woods. Poor Echo! His unkind looks had hurt her sadly, and she hid herself in the woods, and mourned and grieved

ery much and wept night and day and could not touch any food; so that she grew pale and thin and began to waste away to a s

ished altogether, and nothing but her voice remained. Since that time she lies hidden in the woods, and no one has ever see

n the poor boy’s madness, and although he had treated her so cruelly, she felt only sorrow at his trouble. Whenever Narciss

r great skill in spinning and embroidering. Such beautiful things did she fashion with her wool, and so graceful did she lo

h beautiful things did she fashion with her wool, and so graceful did she look as she worked with her spindle, that great l

things did she fashion with her wool, and so graceful did she look as she worked with her spindle, that great lords and lad

paid her great prices for her wonderful embroidery. 7. “So graceful she looked as she worked with her spindle.” A Spinne

prices for her wonderful embroidery. 7. “So graceful she looked as she worked with her spindle.” A Spinner ( Moreau ).

wered upon her from all sides. She became so vain about her work that she could think of nothing but how wonderful she was;

vain about her work that she could think of nothing but how wonderful she was; and one day she boasted that, though she was

hat she could think of nothing but how wonderful she was; and one day she boasted that, though she was only a humble girl,

thing but how wonderful she was; and one day she boasted that, though she was only a humble girl, she was far greater in he

was; and one day she boasted that, though she was only a humble girl, she was far greater in her skill than the goddess Min

ember, was the goddess of wisdom and of war; but in her spare moments she amused herself by doing just such work as had mad

s more than conceit; so when Minerva heard of the girl’s bold speech, she was much astonished, and thought she would visit

heard of the girl’s bold speech, she was much astonished, and thought she would visit Arachne to see what she meant by her

was much astonished, and thought she would visit Arachne to see what she meant by her boast. Accordingly, she took on the

would visit Arachne to see what she meant by her boast. Accordingly, she took on the form of an old, gray-haired woman, an

woman, and leaning on her staff, as though too feeble to walk erect, she came into the little room where Arachne sat spinn

he maiden at her work, and listened to the girl’s boastful claim that she could outdo Minerva herself in skill. Then the ol

do Minerva herself in skill. Then the old woman spoke. “My daughter,” she said, laying her hand on Arachne’s shoulder, “lis

rva will grant it.” But the young girl only looked cross and ugly, as she answered in a very churlish tone, “You are an old

, and I will prove my words. She is afraid of the test, else why does she not come?” Then Minerva dropped her staff and cri

hy does she not come?” Then Minerva dropped her staff and cried, “Lo! she is come!” and she took on her true shape and show

me?” Then Minerva dropped her staff and cried, “Lo! she is come!” and she took on her true shape and showed herself in all

r head high, and did not show the least fear or awe; on the contrary, she again asked Minerva to enter into a trial of skil

t in which the gods had taken part; and into each of the four corners she wove a picture of the fate that had overtaken dar

and the clouds seemed floating through real air. But the stories that she pictured were all chosen to show that even the go

chosen to show that even the gods could sometimes make mistakes. When she laid down her spindle, Minerva, in spite of her a

he greater; and when Arachne saw the look of anger in Minerva’s face, she suddenly felt how foolish and wrong she had been.

k of anger in Minerva’s face, she suddenly felt how foolish and wrong she had been. It was too late now for repentance. The

. The goddess seized the beautiful web, and tore it into shreds. Then she raised her shuttle and struck Arachne three times

s were changed into ugly spider’s legs, and, hanging from her thread, she spun and spun forever. If you can find a dusty ol

th her; and just as quickly, Daphne had been made to hate Apollo, and she turned to flee from him into the woods. Apollo fo

ste, calling to her not to be afraid and not to run so fast, for fear she might hurt herself on the thorns and brambles; an

ly, while Apollo still followed. He had almost reached her side, when she stretched out her arms to her father, the god of

ched out her arms to her father, the god of a river along whose banks she was fleeing. “Oh father,” she cried, “help me! he

r, the god of a river along whose banks she was fleeing. “Oh father,” she cried, “help me! help me! Either let the earth op

change this form of mine so that Apollo will not love me.” Hardly had she finished her prayer, when her limbs grew heavy, a

— for once, I know, I heard a rustic call it so.” Thus he spoke, and she the while Heard him with a soothing smile. Then

heus had a fair young wife, Eurydice; and much as he loved his music, she was still more dear to him. She was as beautiful

ewy morning; and it did not take Orpheus’ music to make her good, for she had never had a thought that was not pure and lov

was walking in the fields with some young girls, gathering flowers as she went along, when suddenly from under a cluster of

power to restore his dear wife; but, after a few hours of suffering, she died. Orpheus’ grief was terrible to see. He took

think of what he was doing, he turned his head quickly to see whether she was still following. But alas! he caught only a g

her arms stretched toward him and her lips speaking a last farewell, she sank back into that Hades from which his love and

Apollo, her twin brother, sank from sight in his golden sun chariot, she arose and guided her silver car across the heaven

nting garments, her shining quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder, she spent the day in the green woods, enjoying the pl

ranches, Diana was stepping into the rippling water. At sight of him, she paused, flushed with anger and surprise. “Bold mo

t of him, she paused, flushed with anger and surprise. “Bold mortal,” she cried, “darest thou enter my secret hiding places

The Story of Perseus There was once a princess named Danaë, and she had a little baby boy, whom she called Perseus. T

was once a princess named Danaë, and she had a little baby boy, whom she called Perseus. The little boy’s father was far a

h the wonderful eye in her forehead, came to the door of the cave. As she led her sisters by the hand, she told them of eve

ad, came to the door of the cave. As she led her sisters by the hand, she told them of everything that she was seeing with

As she led her sisters by the hand, she told them of everything that she was seeing with the eye, strange things that were

loth, went to greet his mother. She was overjoyed to see her son, for she had long since decided that he must be dead. You

woman whose name was Cassiopeia. Long after the time I am talking of, she was placed among the stars, and on a starry night

Chair, brightly shining in the heavens. But at the time of my story, she still lived on earth, and, as I said, she was ver

ut at the time of my story, she still lived on earth, and, as I said, she was very beautiful. She was also very vain of her

tiful. She was also very vain of her beauty, and one day boasted that she was fairer than any of the sea nymphs. Now the se

e upon them, the answer was, “Because of the vanity of Cassiopeia. If she will give up her daughter Andromeda to the serpen

any thought her even more beautiful than her mother, for whose vanity she was to die. And Cassiopeia herself? She would not

” Then Cassiopeia went sadly home and locked herself in her room; for she could not bear to look her child in the face. Ah,

or she could not bear to look her child in the face. Ah, how bitterly she regretted the vanity that had led to all the trou

rly she regretted the vanity that had led to all the trouble, and how she hated that beautiful face of hers which had forme

be very brave, so as to lessen her poor mother’s grief; but in truth she was much frightened, and she shuddered at the tho

en her poor mother’s grief; but in truth she was much frightened, and she shuddered at the thought of the serpent’s cruel j

ys, when he had seen that the rescued girl was as good and lovable as she was fair, he asked for her hand in marriage. As f

as she was fair, he asked for her hand in marriage. As for Andromeda, she had loved Perseus from the moment she saw his cro

in marriage. As for Andromeda, she had loved Perseus from the moment she saw his crooked sword flash above the sea serpent

she saw his crooked sword flash above the sea serpent’s head, and so she gladly consented to be his wife. The girl’s paren

no. But the girl hated this old man, and that was another reason why she loved Perseus, who had saved her not only from th

ho had saved her not only from the sea serpent, but from the man whom she dreaded quite as much. The wedding day dawned at

od of the river had one child, a girl named Io, and there was nothing she liked better than to wander in the grove by the s

Io did not know who Jupiter was, for he came disguised as a boy; and she thought him only a pleasant companion for her wal

hated Io; for, as you remember, I have told you what a jealous queen she was, and she could not bear to have Jupiter care

r, as you remember, I have told you what a jealous queen she was, and she could not bear to have Jupiter care for any one b

herself. So one day, when he had been away from home for many hours, she suddenly made up her mind to go down to earth and

so fond. Her heart was filled with bitter feelings toward Io, and as she entered the grove, her frown was so dark that it

ds knew everything. So, in some way, Jupiter felt Juno’s wrath before she came into the grove; and fearing that she might h

er felt Juno’s wrath before she came into the grove; and fearing that she might harm his companion, quick as a flash, he ch

nto a white heifer. When Juno came to the side of the river, all that she saw was her husband in his own true form and the

s own true form and the white cow nibbling the grass at his side. But she knew that it was Io, and she went up to her side,

cow nibbling the grass at his side. But she knew that it was Io, and she went up to her side, and stroked her glossy neck,

say yes, although it was much against his will. As Juno led Io away, she said to herself, “Now that I have you, I will tak

herself, “Now that I have you, I will take good care to keep you.” So she set one of her servants, Argus, to watch the cow.

they did not see. Never for a moment was Io left unguarded. At night she was tied to a tree, but during the day she could

o left unguarded. At night she was tied to a tree, but during the day she could wander about as she pleased. The poor girl

she was tied to a tree, but during the day she could wander about as she pleased. The poor girl did not quite know what ha

not quite know what had happened to her. Instead of the food to which she was accustomed, she had to eat leaves and grass;

had happened to her. Instead of the food to which she was accustomed, she had to eat leaves and grass; she slept on the gro

he food to which she was accustomed, she had to eat leaves and grass; she slept on the ground, and drank from the running b

ass; she slept on the ground, and drank from the running brooks. When she tried to stretch forth her arms to ask pity of Ar

rooks. When she tried to stretch forth her arms to ask pity of Argus, she found, to her surprise, that she had no arms; and

forth her arms to ask pity of Argus, she found, to her surprise, that she had no arms; and instead of the words she meant t

ound, to her surprise, that she had no arms; and instead of the words she meant to speak, she heard only a strange “moo” wh

e, that she had no arms; and instead of the words she meant to speak, she heard only a strange “moo” which came from her ow

lips. She was frightened and hastened to the banks of the river where she had so often walked with her boy companion. When

the river where she had so often walked with her boy companion. When she saw her horns reflected in the clear water, her t

er own father know her! She could not speak to him, but with her foot she traced her story in the sand. When he read the sa

mph called Syrinx. She was graceful and nimble and fleet of foot, and she led the wood gods, or satyrs, as they were called

the god of the shepherds and chief of the satyrs, saw her one day, as she was passing through the grove. He came up to spea

as she was passing through the grove. He came up to speak to her, but she was frightened at his goat’s legs and his queer,

his queer, furry ears, and fled from him in terror. He followed, but she ran so swiftly that he could not overtake her. “A

owed, but she ran so swiftly that he could not overtake her. “At last she came to a stream, and here she prayed for help, t

at he could not overtake her. “At last she came to a stream, and here she prayed for help, to her sisters, the water nymphs

he stream, and a moment later a clump of reeds grew in the spot where she had vanished. When Pan stretched out his arm towa

ut off the head with its hundred starry eyes. Juno grieved sadly when she heard of the death of her favorite, and she set h

. Juno grieved sadly when she heard of the death of her favorite, and she set his eyes in the tail of her own bird, the pea

country to another trying in vain to rid herself of the fly. At last she came to the land of Egypt. There, tired out with

he came to the land of Egypt. There, tired out with her long travels, she lay down by the side of the river Nile, and tried

at they made her their queen. She lived happily for many years, until she grew old and died. Then the people carved a great

ngs of all kinds; but her greatest happiness was in her children. How she loved them! She would play with them, and tell th

and tell them stories, and dry away their tears with her kisses, and she was with them whenever she could steal away from

dry away their tears with her kisses, and she was with them whenever she could steal away from the many things that kept h

drive away all care from her heart, and leave her as happy as though she , too, were a child. Niobe’s people did not love h

be’s people did not love her so much as they feared her; for although she was gentle and tender and loving in her own home,

r although she was gentle and tender and loving in her own home, when she went out to walk in the city, dressed in her rich

me, when she went out to walk in the city, dressed in her rich robes, she looked very haughty and proud, and she always wan

ty, dressed in her rich robes, she looked very haughty and proud, and she always wanted every one to bow down to her and sa

ressed in a beautiful gown embroidered with gold. Very tall and proud she looked as she walked along, and, at the gates of

autiful gown embroidered with gold. Very tall and proud she looked as she walked along, and, at the gates of the temple, al

wealth and power? Am I not far greater than Latona? I am a queen, and she is but a humble woman. She has only two children,

ival in her honor; for there had been so much sorrow in her life that she took all the joy that was within her reach. And i

ef, rushed out, bareheaded, with her daughters close behind her. When she reached the plain, and saw the awful sight, she f

lose behind her. When she reached the plain, and saw the awful sight, she fell upon the ground with cries of anguish. But h

t her pride was not yet humbled, for, raising her arms toward heaven, she cried, “You have taken revenge, most cruel Latona

Niobe’s terrible grief, felt almost sorry for their deed, and thought she had been punished enough. But when she spoke thes

ry for their deed, and thought she had been punished enough. But when she spoke these words of scorn against their mother,

ows, one after another. As Niobe saw her daughters falling about her, she seized the youngest and tried to hide her in her

fell dead at her feet. 12. “‘Spare me this last and youngest one,’ she cried.” Niobe (Uffizi Palace, Florence). Then t

e plain among her dead, and gazed about her in silent grief. And thus she sat, day after day, and never moved nor spoke. He

es grew fixed in their look of pain, and at last, through her sorrow, she was changed to marble. The marble image of grief

wo huge snakes to strangle him in his cradle. The nurse screamed when she saw the serpents coiling themselves around the ch

and wrung their necks. The astonished nurse could hardly believe what she saw. You can well understand how such a wonderful

o help weaker people. Juno still wanted to show her hatred of him, so she sent him into ail sorts of dangers. He had to fig

ame all the dangers Juno placed in his path. When the queen saw this, she hit upon a new plan for making him unhappy, — she

the queen saw this, she hit upon a new plan for making him unhappy, —  she made him a slave to the king of Argos. Nothing co

ad asked her to be his wife. The girl would have said yes gladly, but she knew that her father had half promised her in mar

he bull’s horns was broken off. The goddess of plenty, or Fortune, as she is sometimes called, found it lying forgotten on

forgotten on the ground. She was so much pleased with its shape that she filled it with her autumn fruits and flowers and

ne day he started on his journeys. His wife missed him very much, but she loved him so well that she had not the heart to c

urneys. His wife missed him very much, but she loved him so well that she had not the heart to call him back, since he seem

s. Of course, Deïanira soon heard how Hercules had forgotten her, and she grieved and grieved over it, till she grew pale a

Hercules had forgotten her, and she grieved and grieved over it, till she grew pale and thin. Then, at last, she remembered

eved and grieved over it, till she grew pale and thin. Then, at last, she remembered the words of the dying centaur. She se

his master Hercules, in that far-off city by the sea, and to say that she sent him her love and asked him to wear the shirt

m to wear the shirt for her sake. Little did the poor woman know what she was doing, and little did the innocent servant dr

als were buried, and told him of his father’s message. “Try, my son,” she said, when she had finished, “and see whether you

, and told him of his father’s message. “Try, my son,” she said, when she had finished, “and see whether you can lift the s

lock. When the king’s daughter heard that the army of Minos had come, she hastened to the top of a high tower in the palace

and noble in appearance, and no sooner had the princess seen him than she fell in love with him. She longed to see him more

lt pained at the thought of the war which made him her enemy. If only she could fly out of the gates and tell him how much

r enemy. If only she could fly out of the gates and tell him how much she cared for him, she would do anything to win his l

e could fly out of the gates and tell him how much she cared for him, she would do anything to win his love. No sooner had

and would do anything to. give her pleasure. Still, day after day, as she watched Minos from her high tower, the thought of

ched Minos from her high tower, the thought of this one deed by which she might win his love would not leave her mind. And

longer seemed so dreadful a thing. The end of it was, that one night she crept into the room where her father lay sleeping

m off his head. She did not even feel ashamed of the wicked deed, for she could no longer think of anything but King Minos.

deed, for she could no longer think of anything but King Minos. Then she slipped out into the night, unbolted the bars, an

e open, stood before the astonished king. “I am the king’s daughter,” she said, “and for your sake I have stolen my father’

k without further delay. The princess stood on the shore, weeping, as she watched the soldiers preparing to go. When at len

ldiers preparing to go. When at length Minos threw off the last rope, she sprang into the water, and, grasping the helm of

a friend to you.” The soldiers pushed her roughly from the boat, and she felt herself sinking, sinking in the waves; but s

inking, sinking in the waves; but suddenly her body grew light as air she had been changed into a bird. Sorrowfully she fle

body grew light as air she had been changed into a bird. Sorrowfully she flew above the city that had formerly been her ho

the streets, and, above all, to see her dear father; but the nearest she ever came to his palace, was when she beat her wi

er dear father; but the nearest she ever came to his palace, was when she beat her wings against the walls of the tower fro

was when she beat her wings against the walls of the tower from which she had first seen King Minos. The other birds of the

irds of the air seemed to shun her, as though they knew her story; so she lived lonely and with no one to love her, as a pu

ter Ariadne, a beautiful, tender-hearted girl. She wept for pity when she saw the youths and maidens and thought how soon t

us to the entrance of the labyrinth that night, and when it was dark, she passed with him out of the palace gates. It was a

When they had reached the entrance, Ariadne spoke. “Prince Theseus,” she said, “my heart grieves for you and your friends

e entrance. Theseus, after thanking the princess for her help, did as she told him, and entered the gate. Through many dark

uggle and his wanderings. Ariadne had been waiting all the while, and she now brought him food to strengthen him, and urged

asked her to go with him and be his wife; and the girl consented, for she had loved the prince from the moment when first s

rl consented, for she had loved the prince from the moment when first she pitied him and his helpless companions. Together

filling their glasses with the sweet milk, Baucis became worried; for she knew the pitcher must soon be empty, and there wa

the house. But what was her surprise, when, looking into the pitcher, she saw that it was still full to the brim, and that

ers emptied it, it refilled itself. Baucis whispered to Philemon what she had seen. Then they watched more closely, and not

e one bed in the little cottage. When the strangers had gone to rest, she and her husband lay down on the kitchen floor. Ea

ieved much at the thought of leaving Halcyone for so long a time, and she tried to make him give up the idea of going so fa

the sea, and the dangers of the storm-beaten waves. But at last, when she found that he was bent on going, she begged him t

-beaten waves. But at last, when she found that he was bent on going, she begged him to take her with him. Ceyx would not t

e water, with the dazzling sunlight on it, met her tearful gaze. Then she went sadly back to her palace. Meanwhile the vess

ile Halcyone impatiently awaited her husband’s return. Every morning, she went to the temple of Juno and prayed that her hu

Iris, in her rainbow-colored robe, flew swiftly through the air, till she came to the dark cavern of Somnus, the god of sle

alcyone.” Halcyone awoke with a cry. The vision had been so real that she looked for wet footprints on the floor; but shado

room was empty and undisturbed. She was so troubled by her dream that she could no longer sleep. She arose and dressed, and

leep. She arose and dressed, and, as the gray light of morning broke, she hastened down to the shore, to visit again the sp

broke, she hastened down to the shore, to visit again the spot where she and her husband had exchanged their last farewell

nged their last farewell. She had been standing there some time, when she saw, far out at sea, something white tossed about

nd cold, the hair dripping and covered with weeds and shells, just as she had seen it in her dream the night before. She fe

ue!” She could not bear to think of her lonely life without Ceyx, and she felt that she would rather be with him, even in d

not bear to think of her lonely life without Ceyx, and she felt that she would rather be with him, even in dark Hades, tha

im, even in dark Hades, than live in the bright world without him. So she mounted a little rising knoll near the shore, and

ed a little rising knoll near the shore, and sprang into the sea. But she was not drowned. The gods so pitied the loving co

, protecting skies Follow her with tender eyes, Look so lovingly that she Cannot choose but think of me:           Watch he

Seem like love’s melodious words; Every pleasant sound my dear, When she stirs from sleep, should hear:           Wake her

ake her gently, morn!           Kiss her softly, winds! Softly, that she may not miss Any sweet, accustomed bliss; On her

was cloudless and staring, Nephele would grow thin and pale, and then she would leave her home for a long time, and come ba

aid that the clouds were her sisters, and that when they left the sky she had to travel far away with them. However that wa

not her own children, and because they were beautiful and good. Soon she began to ill-treat them. They had to lay aside th

r, to save the children; for, although Nephele seemed to be far away, she was really watching over her children in sorrow a

r every moment, until Helle became so weary of the dizzy flight, that she dropped from the ram’s back, fell into a narrow s

buds, every one, When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,     As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the l

across, the stately form of Juno, queen of heaven. “Young man,” said she , “you have a good and brave heart, and you shall

heart, and you shall not regret your kindness to an old woman;” then she vanished. When Jason recovered from his surprise,

an oak tree sacred to Juno. Juno had sent the gift to show Jason that she had not forgotten her promise to help him. It was

s boat was anchored, and he thought of Juno’s promise and wished that she would help him now. When he came to the ship, he

far away with this stranger. Indeed, the girl herself hardly knew why she did it; but the truth was that Juno had not forgo

at Juno had not forgotten her promise to help Jason, and the only way she could do it was by making Medea love him so much

he only way she could do it was by making Medea love him so much that she would be willing to give up everything for his sa

what he must do to overcome the fierce bulls and the armed men. After she left him, he paced up and down the seashore for a

e king himself, with Medea at his right hand. In all that vast crowd, she was the only one who dared to hope that Jason wou

told Jason he must kill the dragon that night and sail for home; for she had noticed her father’s angry look and she feare

ht and sail for home; for she had noticed her father’s angry look and she feared that he meant some harm to the Argonauts.

y look and she feared that he meant some harm to the Argonauts. Again she gave him a drug, to put the dragon to sleep, and

entle that Glaucus’ heart was deeply moved, and he followed her until she came to a low hill. She climbed to the top and th

d to the top and then turned to give a parting look at the sea, which she loved very much; but she did not notice the dark

ned to give a parting look at the sea, which she loved very much; but she did not notice the dark face watching her so clos

ce the dark face watching her so closely, and, turning down the hill, she disappeared from view. Glaucus sighed and slowly

ing by the side of the sea. Again he followed her, watching her until she disappeared behind the little hill. So it went on

her. But Scylla did not care for this strange-looking creature, whom she saw that day for the first time; and she turned a

range-looking creature, whom she saw that day for the first time; and she turned away from him, and left him sad and hopele

that Circe herself had for a long time been in love with Glaucus; so she told him that Scylla was not worthy of his love,

was not worthy of his love, and that if he would stay in her palace, she would make him happy all the rest of his life. Bu

ain tops and trees in the ocean, than my love for Scylla change while she is alive.” Then at last Circe saw that she must a

ve for Scylla change while she is alive.” Then at last Circe saw that she must at least pretend to grant his wish. In her h

ce saw that she must at least pretend to grant his wish. In her heart she hated Scylla, and she had made up her mind to do

t least pretend to grant his wish. In her heart she hated Scylla, and she had made up her mind to do something very cruel.

into the water when her legs began to change their shape; and at last she screamed aloud in terror, for where her limbs had

ere were now six horrible, loudmouthed, fierce-looking dogs. At first she thought they were only in the water, and she rush

e-looking dogs. At first she thought they were only in the water, and she rushed to the shore. When she saw that the monste

hought they were only in the water, and she rushed to the shore. When she saw that the monsters were part of her own body,

the shore. When she saw that the monsters were part of her own body, she ran screaming to the top of the hill, and threw h

k; one foot was outstretched, and it seemed as though the next minute she must ‘step down from her pedestal and move about

pity on him; and since he could never care for any other woman, that she who could work such wonders would change his marb

ved him, of course; for Venus had not only turned the marble to life, she had also made Galatea return the sculptor’s great

hitest of all the sea nymphs was Galatea. To the rough old Polyphemus she seemed just like a bit of sunshine and clear sky,

r such he seemed to her, and at the roar of his awful voice. Besides, she was in love with a young shepherd named Acis; and

g shepherd named Acis; and so, when Polyphemus had finished his song, she ran away to join her lover by the banks of a stre

meaning. Even the old Earth was not dead. The earthquakes proved that she could move, if she would. Down under the earth, w

ld Earth was not dead. The earthquakes proved that she could move, if she would. Down under the earth, where the sun never

prout. Ceres took care also to have the flowers always blooming. This she did because she had a fair young daughter, Proser

k care also to have the flowers always blooming. This she did because she had a fair young daughter, Proserpina, who loved

Proserpina, who loved them. Never was a mother happier than Ceres as she watched Proserpina wandering through the fields w

of flowers, stood looking with wonder at the approaching god. Before she could even turn, the chariot was beside her. With

Gruff old Pluto tried to comfort the goddess-child. He told her that she should be his bride and queen; that she should ha

ddess-child. He told her that she should be his bride and queen; that she should have all the underworld bow down before he

s to be queen of this awful kingdom, began to see better. High above, she could make out something like a cloudy sky arched

underworld, and there are no stars there. Far away, across the plain, she could see great masses of towers and palaces; but

a tree in all that land, and the only flowers were the few faded ones she had not let fall when the grim god seized her. “I

re not unwilling to be queens and wear crowns of diamonds. He thought she was foolish to make such an ado about the darknes

serpina listened to hear the music of the water, for that was a sound she loved. But the murmur was not like that of earthl

stream a boat. It was laden down with the souls of men. In the stern she could make out Charon, the grim ferryman, with hi

oserpina thought it must be a pack of monsters, all howling; but soon she saw Cerberus himself. He was larger than any hors

; and, indeed, for all his talk, Pluto thought her look and the light she brought with her worth more than all the treasure

e than all the treasures of his underworld; and from that day, though she was always a little sad, and though she would eat

ld; and from that day, though she was always a little sad, and though she would eat nothing and often wept for her mother,

y of Enna with its sunny meadows. It was a lonely place that day when she returned. The birds had stopped singing since Pro

little nymphs lay weeping for her lost playmate. She was terrified as she heard the footsteps of the great goddess. Yet she

he was terrified as she heard the footsteps of the great goddess. Yet she was able to tell the news. Proserpina had been ca

hild and to punish him who had dared to do such a deed. But, although she moved swiftly, she saw no trace of the lost maide

him who had dared to do such a deed. But, although she moved swiftly, she saw no trace of the lost maiden until, at nightfa

ved swiftly, she saw no trace of the lost maiden until, at nightfall, she picked up a rose which had fallen from the hands

at the volcano of Ætna. With this tremendous torch to light her way, she wandered all through the night, seeking and calli

dered all through the night, seeking and calling in vain. As often as she met a spirit of sleep, or of dreams, she would st

calling in vain. As often as she met a spirit of sleep, or of dreams, she would stop it and ask, “Have you seen my daughter

But none of the spirits of night had seen her. When morning came, she still went on without rest. At each river she wou

. When morning came, she still went on without rest. At each river she would stop and call. Very soon the river-god woul

head above the water and look at her with gentle, majestic eyes, and she would ask, “Have you seen my daughter, Proserpina

ter, Proserpina?” But none of the river-gods had seen her. Once, when she came to a hilly forest, she called, “Pan! Pan!” a

f the river-gods had seen her. Once, when she came to a hilly forest, she called, “Pan! Pan!” and Pan, the god of the anima

. She traveled over the earth from end to end, in vain. Of Proserpina she found not another trace. During all this time, sh

ain. Of Proserpina she found not another trace. During all this time, she had not once thought of her usual cares. None of

weeks passed thus, but at last, when the goddess was near to despair, she came to the fountain of Arethusa. This fountain c

he earth, and Arethusa, the nymph who lived in it, could go down when she pleased and look into the underworld. It was a ch

nd Arethusa was far down in the earth below. But at the call of Ceres she came up quickly and raised her beautiful face and

at question many, many times, in vain, during these last months. “Was she young, and slender, and beautiful? Were her eyes

der, and beautiful? Were her eyes blue, and her locks golden? And did she wear violets and lilies in her hair and dress?” “

hen Arethusa told of the black horses and chariot and the grim driver she had seen; and how the fierce, dark god had struck

god. Upon her head was a glittering crown of diamonds and rubies, and she wore the dark robe of royalty. All the ghosts of

before her and were her subjects; but her face was pale, and they say she has never been known to smile, nor will she eat a

ce was pale, and they say she has never been known to smile, nor will she eat anything.” When Ceres heard that, she covered

en known to smile, nor will she eat anything.” When Ceres heard that, she covered her face, and for a whole day sat speechl

covered her face, and for a whole day sat speechless with grief, for she knew that the dark god was Pluto, the ruler of th

ew that the dark god was Pluto, the ruler of the underworld, and that she could do nothing against his mighty power. At las

rld, and that she could do nothing against his mighty power. At last, she uncovered her face and rose, and went slowly up t

up the path of stars to Olympus, where the gods of heaven dwell; for, she said, “My brother Jupiter, alone, can help me now

ll; for, she said, “My brother Jupiter, alone, can help me now.” When she came to Olympus, the great gates opened to her of

ame to Olympus, the great gates opened to her of themselves; and when she entered the glorious hall, the gods and goddesses

and terribly strong. It was to these three that Ceres looked; and as she moved across the glorious hall, the gods ceased t

of wisdom, said, “If Proserpina has eaten anything in the underworld, she cannot return; but if not, Jupiter may right the

f grass — until Proserpina comes back. Choose what you will do!” When she had said this, Ceres turned and left Olympus. She

palace of Pluto.   That day, as Ceres was sitting alone in her grief, she heard a sound that startled her. It was a little

a few clear notes of joy. “What does this mean?” thought Ceres. Then she looked across the fields and saw that all the tre

mother. And Ceres, in her joy, wept and laughed at the same time, as she took her daughter in her arms. That day the reign

he earth. Yet Proserpina could not stay with her mother always. While she was in the underworld she had tasted a pomegranat

ould not stay with her mother always. While she was in the underworld she had tasted a pomegranate which Pluto had offered

ad tasted a pomegranate which Pluto had offered her. Because of this, she had to spend a part of each year ever after with

the underworld. But Ceres always mourns until Proserpina returns. And she allows nothing to grow upon the earth until the f

 They nodded lightly on the lea,    Persephone — Persephone! Lo! one she marked of rarer growth    Than orchis or anemone:

maiden left them both,    And parted from her company.    Drawn nigh she deemed it fairer still,    And stooped to gather

   “The coal-black horses rise — they rise.    O mother, mother!” low she cries —    Persephone — Persephone! “O light, li

low she cries —    Persephone — Persephone! “O light, light, light!” she cries, “farewell;    The coal-black horses wait f

beside the rill!    The daffodil, the daffodil!” What ails her that she comes not home?    Demeter seeks her far and wide

orn till eventide.    “My life, immortal though it be,    Is naught,” she cries, “for want of thee,    Persephone — Perseph

r dusky throne,    ’Mid shades of heroes dread to see; Among the dead she breathes alone,    Persephone — Persephone!    Or

.    The tender corn upon the lea    Droops in her goddess gloom when she    Cries for her lost Persephone. “From land to

gloom when she    Cries for her lost Persephone. “From land to land she raging flies,    The green fruit falleth in her w

 Upon the fair Eleusian meads.    Her mother meets her. “Hail!” saith she ;    “And doth our daylight dazzle thee    My love

t —    Demeter’s kisses comfort her.    Calm Queen of Hades, art thou she    Who stepped so lightly on the lea —    Perseph

awful wastes of dimness whirled —    Emerged at length, no trace hath she    Of that dark hour of destiny,    Still silvery

g shade, But not one biding trace impress    Of all the darkness that she made;    The greater soul that draweth thee    Ha

us each of the gods, in turn, gave her something, so that Pandora, as she was called, was perfect beyond all women born on

as she was called, was perfect beyond all women born on earth, though she was only an earthly woman after all. When this wa

h poured through the sparkling sides and top. “What a marvelous box!” she would say to herself. “What joy it has brought th

what it is that the gods put into it to give it such power.” One day she said to Epimetheus, “Would it be wrong, do you th

it, Pandora, for the gods have forbidden it!” Pandora was silent, but she could not help thinking, of the box. It was in he

nkind when it is closed, who knows what will happen if it is opened?” she thought to herself. “Maybe the blessing will be d

herself. “Maybe the blessing will be doubled. Who knows?” Day by day she grew to love the beautiful box more, and day by d

?” Day by day she grew to love the beautiful box more, and day by day she was more eager to know what was in it! “Maybe the

ere, waiting for some one who will be brave enough to raise the lid,” she would think. “What evil can there be in so blesse

ssed a box? It has made the whole world happy. It must be good.” Then she would think that even though she should raise the

world happy. It must be good.” Then she would think that even though she should raise the lid just a little — just enough

ould escape. At last, one day, the charm was too great to resist, and she found herself grasping the lid with both hands, r

und herself grasping the lid with both hands, ready to raise it. Then she came to her senses and let it go. “I must not do

se it. Then she came to her senses and let it go. “I must not do it,” she thought. And then she knelt down beside the box a

o her senses and let it go. “I must not do it,” she thought. And then she knelt down beside the box and began to raise up t

ose it, but it was of no use. The little creatures were stronger than she . At last she sprang upon the cover, with her whol

t was of no use. The little creatures were stronger than she. At last she sprang upon the cover, with her whole weight. Tha

ere, kneeling upon the lid of the box and weeping. It was long before she could tell what had happened. Then, for many hour

no help, suddenly Pandora gave a cry of joy. “They are not all gone!” she said, eagerly, putting her ear to the box. “Liste

r the hunt. Daphne was a daughter of the river-god Peneüs, and though she was as fair as the moon on a summer evening, she

d Peneüs, and though she was as fair as the moon on a summer evening, she had never had a lover. She worshipped Diana, the

sent the leaden arrow with unerring aim fairly into her heart, and as she saw Apollo, she hated and feared him as she had n

arrow with unerring aim fairly into her heart, and as she saw Apollo, she hated and feared him as she had never before fear

ly into her heart, and as she saw Apollo, she hated and feared him as she had never before feared or hated anyone. Without

d him as she had never before feared or hated anyone. Without a word, she turned and fled. Apollo followed, and tried to so

the nearer he came, the more terrified was poor Daphne. It was as if she were a hunted hare and Apollo the hound baying cl

and flattering though it was, scared her anew. Suddenly, before her, she saw the glint of water. It was the river Peneüs.

, she saw the glint of water. It was the river Peneüs. “O my father,” she cried, “help me! Save me from him I hate. Change

out upon the river bank, there stood Daphne, so quiet that he thought she had yielded. He went quickly to her and caught he

s — for once, I know I heard a rustic call it so.” Thus he spoke, and she the while Heard him with a soothing smile; Then s

it came quickly. Next day, as Eurydice was walking through the grass, she trod upon a poisonous serpent, which turned and b

ake him send back Eurydice. Then Orpheus said, “I will seek her where she is,” and he rose and went to the promontory of Tæ

s lyre and began. In his song, he told how he had loved Eurydice, and she him, how they were happily married, and how, with

, and she him, how they were happily married, and how, without cause, she had been snatched from him in an hour. He told ho

oad leading to the world above. All the way Orpheus was thinking, “Is she behind me? Have they really let her come? Are we

alked softly, so as to hear her footsteps. There was not a sound. “Is she really following?” he asked himself, but he dared

gerness, mounted but slowly, and always the doubt tormented him — “Is she really following? Is it possible that they intend

ey would be out. Again Orpheus walked softly and asked himself: — “Is she really following? Have the gods of the underworld

by the hand — and it seemed to melt into nothing in his. “O Orpheus,” she said; and then, “Goodbye! goodbye!” The last word

; and then, “Goodbye! goodbye!” The last word was only a whisper, and she was gone. Mercury alone stood before him in the f

Alcmena, who had heard the crying, came running in, and what a fright she had! There was Iphicles screaming with terror, an

e gods of heaven.” Alcmena was a good mother, and after hearing that, she did all that was possible for her son. The boy wa

were, though they seemed more like beautiful women. One of them, when she saw Hercules, came running toward him, as if she

n. One of them, when she saw Hercules, came running toward him, as if she were afraid the other would reach him first. “Her

m, as if she were afraid the other would reach him first. “Hercules,” she said, “I see that you are in doubt which path you

himself; but to her he said, “Pray, what is your name, fair one?” And she answered, “Men call me Happiness.” “Surely,” thou

ad the thought of Hercules, and in a voice full of kindness and pity, she said: — “Yes, Hercules, the path of Happiness ind

looked up, and all he said was, “Fair one, what do men call you?” And she answered, “Men and gods alike call me Virtue.” Th

wedding of Juno and Jupiter. Juno had been so pleased with them that she had asked Earth to plant them in the magic garden

and made merry and were glad. All loved Alcestis from the first, for she was as kind and gracious as she was beautiful and

ll loved Alcestis from the first, for she was as kind and gracious as she was beautiful and queenly. Only one thing occurre

out as well to her people. If ever Admetus was moved to anger, it was she that calmed his stormy moods. No wonder, then, th

But Alcestis prayed silently to Apollo in the night, and for the love she bore her husband she offered her own life for his

ilently to Apollo in the night, and for the love she bore her husband she offered her own life for his. She vowed that she

she bore her husband she offered her own life for his. She vowed that she would rather die than be spared, if he were taken

, but Alcestis began to waste away. Dreadful visions came to her. Now she would think she saw Charon, the aged ferryman of

egan to waste away. Dreadful visions came to her. Now she would think she saw Charon, the aged ferryman of the dead, coming

on, the aged ferryman of the dead, coming toward her in his boat. Now she would think she saw dark Death approaching, and b

ryman of the dead, coming toward her in his boat. Now she would think she saw dark Death approaching, and brave and true as

she would think she saw dark Death approaching, and brave and true as she had been, the grim, dark look of the god frighten

saved. She lay upon the ground, breathing and warm. In a few moments she was able to rise, and Hercules led her back to Ad

a veil over her face, however, and did not at first tell Admetus who she was. She herself spoke never a word, for 'the sha

raised her voice. She it was who suffered most, and in her suffering she called to Jupiter: — “If it be your will that I s

an in purest white, with a child in her arms. She was so beautiful as she sat there with the sunlight on her golden hair th

he sat there with the sunlight on her golden hair that Dictys thought she must be some goddess of the sea, although there w

, although there was near her a small boat in which it was plain that she had come during the night. When the woman saw Dic

plain that she had come during the night. When the woman saw Dictys, she rose and hastened toward him. “Good sir,” she sai

n the woman saw Dictys, she rose and hastened toward him. “Good sir,” she said, “help me and my child. I am a king’s daught

name shall I call you, fair princess?” he asked. “My name is Danaë,” she replied, “and I am the daughter of King Acrisius

ere as befits your rank.” So a great house was prepared for Danaë and she lived for several years not unhappily. King Polyd

er and would have married her, but all her thoughts were of Argos and she was always hoping to return. Meanwhile Perseus gr

nued refusal of Danaë to marry him, and took away all the riches that she had. Finally he decided to compel her to give her

to compel her to give her consent. This, he thought, would he easy if she were without her son Perseus, so the king made a

dusa. But the aged priest, though very wise, could not tell him where she could be found. So Perseus went out and walked al

Why are you here, Perseus, when the king and his court are feasting?” she asked. “I have promised King Polydectes the head

I have it.” The aged woman smiled. “What can you do against Medusa?” she said. “All who look upon her are turned to stone.

ashed upon her breastplate of gold and her plumed helmet. In her hand she held her terrible spear, but as Perseus looked in

rseus looked into her quiet face and her clear gray eyes, he saw that she was smiling, and he felt no fear. “I will be with

she was smiling, and he felt no fear. “I will be with you, Perseus,” she said; “therefore, be of good courage. Moreover I

d her to consent to the marriage, threatening that after ten days, if she refused, he would come with his soldiers to get h

irst where I shall find the Gorgon Medusa.” “No, no,” they cried; “ she is our sister. Give us our eye and go your own wa

surrounded her beautiful face. These snakes were a horror to her and she was pale and terror-stricken because of them. As

day a hero would come to put an end to her woe. “Shall I never die?” she moaned. At that very moment Perseus was by her si

of King Polydectes and was not moved by his threats. On the tenth day she went for safety to the temple of Minerva. When th

dom; but he left soldiers at the door of the temple to seize Danaë if she should come out. All that day the queenly woman r

snaky head either upon her shield or upon her golden breastplate, and she granted many a happy year to Danaë and to King Pe

d,    For pale at his feet he sees her lie; — “I die, I die,” was all she said,    While Echo murmur’d “I die, I die!” Th

e boy is already taller and stronger than any man in Trœzen.” One day she led Theseus out into the woods. They wandered her

“When you can raise this stone and get what is under it, you may go,” she said. Theseus took hold of it and lifted hard, bu

his father and these hidden things. “Take the sandals and the sword,” she said, “and go to Athens to your father, King Ægeu

alace and had great power over King Ægeus, and when by her magic arts she recognized Theseus, she resolved to destroy him,

r over King Ægeus, and when by her magic arts she recognized Theseus, she resolved to destroy him, lest he should make her

resolved to destroy him, lest he should make her power less. One day she said to the king: — “Is it well, O Ægeus, that

ning. When the golden goblet of wine was placed before the young man, she smiled upon him, and said: — “Drink, Theseus. Ref

called in a whirlwind, and in a moment was gone. In many other lands she did evil after that, but the people of Athens nev

s he saw him among the victims, and Ariadne gazed at him long; indeed she could not take her eyes from his fair, noble face

she could not take her eyes from his fair, noble face. “Oh, father,” she said, “will you destroy one who is so princely?”

fair as the first flower that the breath of spring brings forth; and she was as gentle as she was beautiful. That night Th

ower that the breath of spring brings forth; and she was as gentle as she was beautiful. That night Theseus paced up and do

and in came the princess herself. She had not been able to rest since she had seen Theseus, and now she had come to save hi

lf. She had not been able to rest since she had seen Theseus, and now she had come to save him. Under her cloak she bore a

e had seen Theseus, and now she had come to save him. Under her cloak she bore a sword. Theseus took it with joy. “Surely,

shall not, stranger, for I will save you from this danger also.” Then she took from under her cloak a skein of thread, as f

thread, as fine and delicate as cobweb. “As you go in, unwind this,” she said. “The way back will then be easy. Come now,

w, and wished to flee and escape him, but her strength failed her and she sank fainting to the ground. When she looked up a

but her strength failed her and she sank fainting to the ground. When she looked up again, Theseus was at her side. He had

ll be put to death,” he said furiously, “and Ariadne with them, since she tried to save them.” All this was told Theseus an

ith dewdrops of the night, And her face all wan and haggard,    Still she waited on the height; Watching, praying that the

uno, the wife of Jupiter and queen of the gods, spoke first. “Paris,” she said, “give me the prize. I shall make you ruler

e without listening to the others. But wise Minerva came forward, and she seemed so stately, and so calm and beautiful, tha

r very presence commanded him to listen. “I will not give you power,” she said, “nor wealth, but wisdom and foresight, cour

was in his heart, Venus, the goddess of love, stepped forth. “Paris,” she said — and Paris turned to look at her. Her hair

golden as the sunlight, and her eyes a rich blue, like the sky. Where she walked, the roses and violets sprang up about her

ng up about her feet and all the birds sang with joy. As Paris gazed, she smiled and his heart beat faster with pleasure. “

d his heart beat faster with pleasure. “Give the apple to me, Paris,” she said. “Give it to me, and you shall have the most

eautiful woman in the world. She lives now far across the waters, but she shall be yours.” Then Paris, hearing her voice

pringtime, and tall and queenly as Venus herself, and Paris knew that she and none other was the most beautiful woman in th

form asked for Helen. They promised to depart in peace, even then, if she were given up. Helen longed to return to her home

, for the leader of the Greeks wished to keep her as his slave, since she was very beautiful and very skillful. He sent the

lympus and prayed Jupiter for aid, and Jupiter took a great oath that she and her son should be avenged; and when he nodded

m a great kindness, and now he received her gladly and asked her what she wished., “Make me a suit of armor for my son, O V

he turned, Deiphobus was not there. Minerva had deceived him, and now she had taken back to Achilles the mighty spear he ha

Her loveliness with shame and with surprise    Froze my swift speech: she turning on my face The starlike sorrows of immort

sailed back to Sparta. Her heart was sad for all the grief and death she had caused. But up in the glorious halls of Olymp

across the main.” “Nay let me die ere to thy charms    I lend,” saith she , “an ear again. For what to me the sound of lyre,

y, sweet Cassandra,” spake the god,    “Troy-town must fall.” O then she stood up fair and brave    And answered “Death I

e,    Spake day by day and would not cease, Beseeching, praying (well she knew    Her grief and pain brought no release). “

the shining doors were opened by a woman so beautiful that they knew she was a goddess. She invited them to enter, and all

m what seemed a refreshing drink. But when they, had all drunk of it, she touched each of them with her wand, and behold, t

s threw open the shining doors again, and invited him to enter. Again she mixed the magic drink, and Ulysses drank it off.

nter. Again she mixed the magic drink, and Ulysses drank it off. Then she struck him with her wand, and said, “Go to the st

or mercy. Her evil power was at an end. The swine were brought in and she anointed each with a powerful drug. In an instant

d of Circe. The enchantress would have had them stay always, but when she saw that Ulysses’ thoughts were only of his home

saw that Ulysses’ thoughts were only of his home and wife and child, she let them go. She gave Ulysses much advice about t

m go. She gave Ulysses much advice about the voyage. “But above all,” she said, “beware that your men do not lay violent ha

the fair goddess Calypso reigned. Now, when the goddess saw Ulysses, she loved him, and would not let him leave her land.

she loved him, and would not let him leave her land. Year after year she kept him by her, hoping that he would forget his

and Calypso dared not disobey. There were no ships on the island, but she helped Ulysses build a raft, and brought him prov

en would not hear of their offers of marriage. “Ulysses will return,” she would answer. But the suitors grew impatient, and

h I am weaving for Laertes,” said Penelope; “then I will choose.” But she did not believe that Ulysses was really dead, and

ll choose.” But she did not believe that Ulysses was really dead, and she hated the crowd of evil men who reveled in her ha

d she hated the crowd of evil men who reveled in her halls. Every day she worked at the robe, but at night she unraveled al

reveled in her halls. Every day she worked at the robe, but at night she unraveled all that she had woven. Thus she put th

Every day she worked at the robe, but at night she unraveled all that she had woven. Thus she put them off for three years

at the robe, but at night she unraveled all that she had woven. Thus she put them off for three years more. Then her serva

ut them off for three years more. Then her servants betrayed her, and she was obliged to set about finishing it. She still

ht return before the work was done, and all would be well. But though she worked slowly, and with many delays, the robe was

s of wisdom and courage, had always kept watch over the hero, and now she shed a mist over him, so that no one should see h

issed him. When he came into the house, Minerva took off the disguise she had put upon Ulysses, and the hero made himself k

arrival. In the evening, after the suitors had gone to their houses, she came down to the hall with her maids to speak wit

er maids to speak with him. “Can you not give me tidings of Ulysses?” she asked. “Indeed, I can,” said the hero. “He is sti

ted stories of himself. Long did Penelope listen, and when at last she rose to go, she said: — “Stranger, your words hav

imself. Long did Penelope listen, and when at last she rose to go, she said: — “Stranger, your words have touched me dee

ome to the palace a wanderer who has talked so wisely and well.” Then she went up to her room, and in her sleep she dreamed

d so wisely and well.” Then she went up to her room, and in her sleep she dreamed that Ulysses had returned. In the morning

t before the morning was far spent, Penelope carried out a plan which she had formed. She went up into her husband’s armory

ngs, each upon a stake, were set up in a row in the palace floor, and she said, “Whoever shall bend this bow of Ulysses’ an

and shoot an arrow through all twelve rings, him I will marry.” Thus she spoke, but she knew that none of them could bend

rrow through all twelve rings, him I will marry.” Thus she spoke, but she knew that none of them could bend it. “But if I s

ear the tidings to Penelope. She found her asleep. “Awake, Penelope!” she cried. “Ulysses has come. With his own hand he ha

ods. When he came in, he spoke to Penelope of a thing long past. Then she knew him. She ran to him and put her arms about h

st΄is (al-ses΄tis). Daughter of Pelias, 98; wife of Admetus, for whom she died, 106; was rescued by Hercules, 109. Alcme΄n

eus the clue to the labyrinth, 161; condemned to death by her father, she left Crete with Theseus, 166. Later traditions sa

hters of Priam, king of Troy. Recognized Paris, 178. Loved of Apollo, she received prophetic power, but refusing his love,

she received prophetic power, but refusing his love, he decreed that she should not be believed, 208,213. Cas΄tor. Son of

of Jupiter, 14; mother of Proserpina, 15; goddess of agriculture, 14; she searched six months for Proserpina, whom Pluto ha

Greeks Eris; goddess of strife. At the marriage of Peleus and Thetis she threw the golden apple among the guests, and caus

hom Juno punished by taking from her the power to speak first, though she cannot refuse to speak when addressed, 145. Eleu

pe). Wife of Ulysses. Famous for her fidelity. Persecuted by suitors, she remained faithful to Ulysses, who was absent from

born lame, and his mother was so displeased at the sight of him that she flung him out of heaven. Other accounts say that

a. The zephyr wafted her along the waves to the Isle of Cyprus, where she was received and attired by the Seasons, and then

eedom find no champion and no child, Such as Columbia saw arise, when she Sprang forth a Pallas, armed and undefiled? Or mu

ave her beauty, Mercury persuasion, Apollo music, etc. Thus equipped, she was conveyed to earth, and presented to Epimetheu

with an eager curiosity to know what this jar contained; and one day she slipped off the cover and looked in. Forthwith th

s that Pandora was sent in good faith, by Jupiter, to bless man; that she was furnished with a box, containing her marriage

ds abandoned it, one by one, till Astræa3 alone was left, and finally she also took her departure. Jupiter, seeing this sta

Pyrrha, of the race of Prometheus, found refuge — he a just man, and she a faithful worshipper of the gods. Jupiter, when

ke In sad event, when to the unwiser son Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she insnared Mankind with her fair looks, to be aveng

the heart. Forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she abhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was i

nd sports and in the spoils of the chase. Many lovers sought her, but she spurned them all, ranging the woods, and taking n

s hidden from view he imagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled, swifter than the wind, and delayed not a mo

mph continued her flight, and left his plea half uttered. And even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her garments,

nued her flight, and left his plea half uttered. And even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her garments, and her

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,

blows upon her hair. Her strength begins to fail, and, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god: “Help me, P

change my form, which has brought me into this danger!” Scarcely had she spoken, when a stiffness seized all her limbs; he

me and they must say farewell, they pressed their lips upon the wall, she on her side, he on his, as they could come no nea

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 des

down under the tree. As she sat alone in the dim light of the evening she descried a lioness, her jaws reeking with recent

isbe fled at the sight, and sought refuge in the hollow of a rock. As she fled she dropped her veil. The lioness after drin

at the sight, and sought refuge in the hollow of a rock. As she fled she dropped her veil. The lioness after drinking at t

forth, looking anxiously for the youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped. When she came to the spot and saw th

sly for the youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped. When she came to the spot and saw the changed color of the

When she came to the spot and saw the changed color of the mulberries she doubted whether it was the same place. While she

or of the mulberries she doubted whether it was the same place. While she hesitated she saw the form of one struggling in t

erries she doubted whether it was the same place. While she hesitated she saw the form of one struggling in the agonies of

f the still water when a sudden breeze sweeps over it. But as soon as she recognized her lover, she screamed and beat her b

udden breeze sweeps over it. But as soon as she recognized her lover, she screamed and beat her breast, embracing the lifel

into its wounds, and imprinting kisses on the cold lips. “O Pyramus,” she cried, “what has done this? Answer me, Pyramus; i

d empty of its sword. “Thy own hand has slain thee, and for my sake,” she said. “I too can be brave for once, and my love i

r. Let thy berries still serve for memorials of our blood.” So saying she plunged the sword into her breast. Her parents ra

e would rise before the dawn to pursue the chase. Aurora saw him when she first looked forth, fell in love with him, and st

happy in his wife that he resisted all the entreaties of Aurora, and she finally dismissed him in displeasure, saying, “Go

us. Procris, at the sudden shock, fainted away. Presently recovering, she said, “It cannot be true; I will not believe it u

e true; I will not believe it unless I myself am a witness to it.” So she waited, with anxious heart, till the next morning

art, till the next morning, when Cephalus went to hunt as usual. Then she stole out after him, and concealed herself in the

o disclose it now! She died; but her face wore a calm expression, and she looked pityingly and forgivingly on her husband w

he consented. The goddess was not yet relieved of her suspicions; so she delivered the heifer to Argus, to be strictly wat

he would have stretched out her arms to implore freedom of Argus, but she had no arms to stretch out, and her voice was a b

d them admire her beauty. Her father reached her a tuft of grass, and she licked the outstretched hand. She longed to make

would have uttered her wish; but, alas! words were wanting. At length she bethought herself of writing, and inscribed her n

rinx, who was much beloved by the satyrs and spirits of the wood; but she would have none of them, but was a faithful worsh

ess, only that her bow was of horn and Diana’s of silver. One day, as she was returning from the chase, Pan met her, told h

n away, without stopping to hear his compliments, and he pursued till she came to the bank of the river, where he overtook

ed till she came to the bank of the river, where he overtook her, and she had only time to call for help on her friends the

ine there was nothing left of the heifer, except her beauty. At first she was afraid to speak, for fear she should low, but

heifer, except her beauty. At first she was afraid to speak, for fear she should low, but gradually she recovered her confi

first she was afraid to speak, for fear she should low, but gradually she recovered her confidence and was restored to her

no, and the goddess changed her into a bear. “I will take away,” said she , “that beauty with which you have captivated my h

ve captivated my husband.” Down fell Callisto on her hands and knees; she tried to stretch out her arms in supplication — t

or. Yet her former disposition remained, and with continual groaning, she bemoaned her fate, and stood upright as well as s

ntinual groaning, she bemoaned her fate, and stood upright as well as she could, lifting up her paws to beg for mercy, and

g up her paws to beg for mercy, and felt that Jove was unkind, though she could not tell him so. Ah, how often, afraid to s

l him so. Ah, how often, afraid to stay in the woods all night alone, she wandered about the neighborhood of her former hau

hborhood of her former haunts; how often, frightened by the dogs, did she , so lately a huntress, fly in terror from the hun

did she, so lately a huntress, fly in terror from the hunters! Often she fled from the wild beasts, forgetting that she wa

rom the hunters! Often she fled from the wild beasts, forgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she wa

easts, forgetting that she was now a wild beast herself; and, bear as she was, was afraid of the bears. One day a youth esp

w grown a young man. She stopped and felt inclined to embrace him. As she was about to approach, he, alarmed, raised his hu

at I have been able to effect! I forbade her to wear the human form —  she is placed among the stars! So do my punishments r

o my punishments result — such is the extent of my power! Better that she should have resumed her former shape, as I permit

d with art, but nature had counterfeited art in its construction, for she had turned the arch of its roof with stones as de

he sparkling water. One day, having repaired thither with her nymphs, she handed her javelin, her quiver, and her bow to on

med and rushed towards the goddess to hide her with their bodies. But she was taller than the rest and overtopped them all

e over the countenance of Diana thus taken by surprise. Surrounded as she was by her nymphs, she yet turned half away, and

of Diana thus taken by surprise. Surrounded as she was by her nymphs, she yet turned half away, and sought with a sudden im

ought with a sudden impulse for her arrows. As they were not at hand, she dashed the water into the face of the intruder, a

y people replied, ‘No mountain or river god possesses this altar, but she whom royal Juno in her jealousy drove from land t

d this land, weary with her burden and parched with thirst. By chance she espied on the bottom of the valley this pond of c

ream, but the rustics forbade her. ‘Why do you refuse me water?’ said she ; ‘water is free to all. Nature allows no one to c

d in their rudeness; they even added jeers and threats of violence if she did not leave the place. Nor was this all. They w

eet, so as to make the water unfit to drink. Latona was so angry that she ceased to mind her thirst. She no longer supplica

surface, and thrice was driven back by the heat. Earth, surrounded as she was by waters, yet with head and shoulders bare,

ling and attentive, spread a cloth, and begged them to sit down. Then she raked out the coals from the ashes, and kindled u

small kettle. Her husband collected some pot-herbs in the garden, and she shred them from the stalks, and prepared them for

rest, but a piece of slate put under restored the level. When fixed, she rubbed the table down with some sweet-smelling he

ed, she rubbed the table down with some sweet-smelling herbs. Upon it she set some of chaste Minerva’s olives, some cornel

creamed for help to her mother and companions; and when in her fright she dropped the corners of her apron and let the flow

dropped the corners of her apron and let the flowers fall, childlike she felt the loss of them as an addition to her grief

es sought her daughter all the world over. Bright-haired Aurora, when she came forth in the morning, and Hesperus when he l

y in the search. But it was all unavailing. At length, weary and sad, she sat down upon a stone, and continued sitting nine

or his fire. His little girl was driving home their two goats, and as she passed the goddess, who appeared in the guise of

as she passed the goddess, who appeared in the guise of an old woman, she said to her, “Mother,” — and the name was sweet t

ttage, such as it was. She declined, and he urged her. “Go in peace,” she replied, “and be happy in your daughter; I have l

,” she replied, “and be happy in your daughter; I have lost mine.” As she spoke, tears — or something like tears, for the g

; so may your daughter be restored to you in safety.” “Lead on,” said she , “I cannot resist that appeal!” So she rose from

ou in safety.” “Lead on,” said she, “I cannot resist that appeal!” So she rose from the stone and went with them. As they w

oppy juice in the milk of the boy. When night came and all was still, she arose, and taking the sleeping boy, moulded his l

plendor shone all around. While they were overcome with astonishment, she said, “Mother, you have been cruel in your fondne

the rewards which labor can win from the cultivated soil.” So saying, she wrapped a cloud about her, and mounting her chari

passing from land to land, and across seas and rivers, till at length she returned to Sicily, whence she at first set out,

across seas and rivers, till at length she returned to Sicily, whence she at first set out, and stood by the banks of the R

to his own dominions. The river nymph would have told the goddess all she had witnessed, but dared not, for fear of Pluto;

e goddess all she had witnessed, but dared not, for fear of Pluto; so she only ventured to take up the girdle which Proserp

e mother. Ceres, seeing this, was no longer in doubt of her loss, but she did not yet know the cause, and laid the blame on

use, and laid the blame on the innocent land. “Ungrateful soil,” said she , “which I have endowed with fertility and clothed

this, the fountain Arethusa interceded for the land. “Goddess,” said she , “blame not the land; it opened unwillingly to yi

ide of the monarch of the realms of the dead.” When Ceres heard this, she stood for a while like one stupefied; then turned

to prevent her complete release; but a compromise was made, by which she was to pass half the time with her mother, and th

ified with this arrangement, and restored the earth to her favor. Now she remembered Celeus and his family, and her promise

and her promise to his infant son Triptolemus. When the boy grew up, she taught him the use of the plough, and how to sow

-corn which when cast into the ground lies there concealed — that is, she is carried off by the god of the underworld. It r

la, the favorite of the water-nymphs, rambling on the shore, and when she had found a sheltered nook, laving her limbs in t

saying such things as he thought most likely to win her to stay; for she turned to run immediately on the sight of him, an

; for she turned to run immediately on the sight of him, and ran till she had gained a cliff overlooking the sea. Here she

of him, and ran till she had gained a cliff overlooking the sea. Here she stopped and turned round to see whether it was a

d to tell you how I have sued and promised to her, and how scornfully she has treated me. I beseech you to use your incanta

her share it and yield me a like return.” To which Circe replied, for she was not insensible to the attractions of the sea-

e virtues of plants and spells, should not know how to refuse you. If she scorns you scorn her; meet one who is ready to me

cease to love Scylla, and her alone.” The goddess was indignant, but she could not punish him, neither did she wish to do

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

ant, 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 a

sh him, neither did she wish to do so, for she liked him too well; so she turned all her wrath against her rival, poor Scyl

us powers and mixed them together, with incantations and charms. Then she passed through the crowd of gambolling beasts, th

ve a brood of serpents and barking monsters surrounding her! At first she could not imagine they were a part of herself, an

f 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

f, 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 touc

o drive them away; but as she ran she carried them with her, and when she tried to touch her limbs, she found her hands tou

ran she carried them with her, and when she tried to touch her limbs, she found her hands touch only the yawning jaws of mo

remained rooted to the spot. Her temper grew as ugly as her form, and she took pleasure in devouring hapless mariners who c

leasure in devouring hapless mariners who came within her grasp. Thus she destroyed six of the companions of Ulysses, and t

nions of Ulysses, and tried to wreck the ships of Æneas, till at last she was turned into a rock, and as such still continu

escape from her, but is taken and brought back, when with reproaches she banishes him, sentencing him to pass a thousand y

ings and strings of pearls upon the breast. Her dress became her, and she looked not less charming than when unattired. He

s wife, and put her head upon a pillow of the softest feathers, as if she could enjoy their softness. The festival of Venus

ixed them at the same moment on her lover. Venus blessed the nuptials she had formed, and from this union Paphos was born,

pe carried her child at her bosom, precious burden, and nursed him as she walked. Near the water grew a lotus plant, full o

and offered them to the baby, and Iole was about to do the same, when she perceived blood dropping from the places where he

m the country people when it was too late. Dryope, horror-struck when she perceived what she had done, would gladly have ha

e when it was too late. Dryope, horror-struck when she perceived what she had done, would gladly have hastened from the spo

woodiness crept upward, and by degrees invested her body. In anguish she attempted to tear her hair, but found her hands f

and could render no assistance. She embraced the growing trunk, as if she would hold back the advancing wood, and would gla

ut her face. Her tears still flowed and fell on her leaves, and while she could she spoke. “I am not guilty. I deserve not

e. Her tears still flowed and fell on her leaves, and while she could she spoke. “I am not guilty. I deserve not this fate.

one of his arrows. She pushed him away, but the wound was deeper than she thought. Before it healed she beheld Adonis, and

him away, but the wound was deeper than she thought. Before it healed she beheld Adonis, and was captivated with him. She n

rself even from heaven, for Adonis was dearer to her than heaven. Him she followed and bore him company. She who used to lo

beware of such dangerous animals. “Be brave towards the timid,” said she ; “courage against the courageous is not safe. Bew

ous strength! I hate the whole race of them. Do you ask me why?” Then she told him the story of Atalanta and Hippomenes, wh

to lions for their ingratitude to her. Having given him this warning, she mounted her chariot drawn by swans, and drove awa

n. Venus, in her swan-drawn chariot, had not yet reached Cyprus, when she heard coming up through mid-air the groans of her

f her beloved, and turned her white-winged coursers back to earth. As she drew near and saw from on high his lifeless body

she drew near and saw from on high his lifeless body bathed in blood, she alighted and, bending over it, beat her breast an

ng over it, beat her breast and tore her hair. Reproaching the Fates, she said, “Yet theirs shall be but a partial triumph;

ged into a flower; that consolation none can envy me.” Thus speaking, she sprinkled nectar on the blood; and as they mingle

red to discourage him, by describing the violence of the winds, which she had known familiarly when she lived at home in he

ribing the violence of the winds, which she had known familiarly when she lived at home in her father’s house, — Æolus bein

g as much as he could do to restrain them. “They rush together,” said she , “with such fury that fire flashes from the confl

h such fury that fire flashes from the conflict. But if you must go,” she added, “dear husband, let me go with you, otherwi

oars and sails to be put aboard. When Halcyone saw these preparations she shuddered, as if with a presentiment of evil. Wit

she shuddered, as if with a presentiment of evil. With tears and sobs she said farewell, and then fell senseless to the gro

her. She answered his signal till the vessel had receded so far that she could no longer distinguish his form from the res

his form from the rest. When the vessel itself could no more be seen, she strained her eyes to catch the last glimmer of th

f the sail, till that too disappeared. Then, retiring to her chamber, she threw herself on her solitary couch. Meanwhile th

ese horrors, counted the days till her husband’s promised return. Now she gets ready the garments which he shall put on, an

. 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 o

put on, and now what she shall wear when he arrives. To all the gods she offers frequent incense, but more than all to Jun

incense, but more than all to Juno. For her husband, who was no more, she prayed incessantly: that he might be safe; that h

ars that ought rather to be offering funeral rites. So, calling Iris, she said, “Iris, my faithful messenger, go to the dro

ve, and other herbs, from whose juices Night collects slumbers, which she scatters over the darkened earth. There is no gat

mself, and leaning on his arm, enquired her errand, — for he knew who she was. She answered, “Somnus, gentlest of the gods,

ts of the wreck.” Having delivered her message, Iris hasted away, for she could not longer endure the stagnant air, and as

hasted away, for she could not longer endure the stagnant air, and as she felt drowsiness creeping over her, she made her e

ndure the stagnant air, and as she felt drowsiness creeping over her, she made her escape, and returned by her bow the way

eeping over her, she made her escape, and returned by her bow the way she came. Then Somnus called one of his numerous sons

eep, striving to embrace his body, but grasping only the air. “Stay!” she cried; “whither do you fly? let us go together.”

ou fly? let us go together.” Her own voice awakened her. Starting up, she gazed eagerly around, to see if he was still pres

nt, for the servants, alarmed by her cries, had brought a light. When she found him not, she smote her breast and rent her

s, alarmed by her cries, had brought a light. When she found him not, she smote her breast and rent her garments. She cares

Her nurse asks what is the cause of her grief. “Halcyone is no more,” she answers, “she perished with her Ceyx. Utter not w

what is the cause of her grief. “Halcyone is no more,” she answers, “ she perished with her Ceyx. Utter not words of comfor

to wretched me. Here, in this very spot, the sad vision stood,” — and she looked to find the mark of his footsteps. “This i

was now morning. She went to the sea shore, and sought the spot where she last saw him, on his departure. “While he lingere

ed here, and cast off his tacklings, he gave me his last kiss.” While she reviews every object, and strives to recall every

ject, and strives to recall every incident, looking out over the sea, she descries an indistinct object floating in the wat

ea, she descries an indistinct object floating in the water. At first she was in doubt what it was, but by degrees the wave

an. Though unknowing of whom, yet, as it was of some shipwrecked one, she was deeply moved, and gave it her tears, saying,

, if such there be, thy wife!” Borne by the waves, it came nearer. As she more and more nearly views it, she trembles more

e by the waves, it came nearer. As she more and more nearly views it, she trembles more and more. Now, now it approaches th

mbles more and more. Now, now it approaches the shore. Now marks that she recognizes appear. It is her husband! Stretching

ar. It is her husband! Stretching out her trembling hands towards it, she exclaims, “O dearest husband, is it thus you retu

s violent ingress. She leaped upon this barrier and (it was wonderful she could do so) she flew, and striking the air with

. She leaped upon this barrier and (it was wonderful she could do so) she flew, and striking the air with wings produced on

instant, skimmed along the surface of the water, an unhappy bird. As she flew, her throat poured forth sounds full of grie

forth sounds full of grief, and like the voice of one lamenting. When she touched the mute and bloodless body, she enfolded

voice of one lamenting. When she touched the mute and bloodless body, she enfolded its beloved limbs with her new-formed wi

e for its weapon not a javelin, but a pruning-knife. Armed with this, she busied herself at one time to repress the too lux

roots might drink. This occupation was her pursuit, her passion; and she was free from that which Venus inspires. She was

ered the garden and admired the fruit. “It does you credit, my dear,” she said, and kissed her, not exactly with an old wom

s. She praised the tree and its associated vine, equally. “But,” said she , “if the tree stood alone, and had no vine clingi

er mansion. First he told his passion to her nurse, and begged her as she loved her foster-child to favor his suit. And the

he dead body of her son, and folded the cold form to her bosom, while she poured forth the sad words which bereaved mothers

lready marked for punishment. “‘Let us see this sad procession,’ said she , and mounted to a turret, whence through an open

on,’ said she, and mounted to a turret, whence through an open window she looked upon the funeral. Scarce had her eyes rest

the warm blood in her body to become cold. Endeavoring to step back, she found she could not move her feet; trying to turn

blood in her body to become cold. Endeavoring to step back, she found she could not move her feet; trying to turn away her

she found she could not move her feet; trying to turn away her face, she tried in vain; and by degrees all her limbs becam

  Pomona was the especial patroness of the Apple-orchard, and as such she was invoked by Phillips, the author of a poem on

rs deserted, while men turned their devotion to this young virgin. As she passed along, the people sang her praises, and st

ence to the real Venus. Shaking her ambrosial locks with indignation, she exclaimed, “Am I then to be eclipsed in my honors

e the palm of beauty over my illustrious rivals, Pallas and Juno. But she shall not so quietly usurp my honors. I will give

. I will give her cause to repent of so unlawful a beauty.” Thereupon she calls her winged son Cupid, mischievous enough in

at haughty girl a passion for some low, mean, unworthy being, so that she may reap a mortification as great as her present

pity; then touched her side with the point of his arrow. At the touch she awoke, and opened eyes upon Cupid (himself invisi

motion into a flowery dale. By degrees her mind became composed, and she laid herself down on the grassy bank to sleep. Wh

composed, and she laid herself down on the grassy bank to sleep. When she awoke refreshed with sleep, she looked round and

own on the grassy bank to sleep. When she awoke refreshed with sleep, she looked round and beheld near by a pleasant grove

s, but the happy retreat of some god. Drawn by admiration and wonder, she approached the building and ventured to enter. Ev

nder, she approached the building and ventured to enter. Every object she met filled her with pleasure and amazement. Golde

cenes, adapted to delight the eye of the beholder. Proceeding onward, she perceived that besides the apartments of state th

art. While her eyes were thus occupied, a voice addressed her, though she saw no one, uttering these words: “Sovereign lady

ning somewhat quieted Psyche for a time, and while the novelty lasted she felt quite happy. But at length the thought of he

her palace as but a splendid prison. When her husband came one night, she told him her distress, and at last drew from him

nt that her sisters should be brought to see her. So, calling Zephyr, she acquainted him with her husband’s commands, and h

oss the mountain down to their sister’s valley. They embraced her and she returned their caresses. “Come,” said Psyche, “en

lves with whatever your sister has to offer.” Then taking their hands she led them into her golden palace, and committed th

he sisters, not satisfied with this reply, soon made her confess that she had never seen him. Then they proceeded to fill h

y recover your liberty.” Psyche resisted these persuasions as well as she could, but they did not fail to have their effect

eir words and her own curiosity were too strong for her to resist. So she prepared her lamp and a sharp knife, and hid them

out of sight of her husband. When he had fallen into his first sleep, she silently rose and uncovering her lamp beheld not

now, and with shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring. As she leaned the lamp over to have a nearer view of his

llow him, fell from the window to the ground. Cupid, beholding her as she lay in the dust, stopped his flight for an instan

ate on the ground, filling the place with mournful lamentations. When she had recovered some degree of composure she looked

ournful lamentations. When she had recovered some degree of composure she looked around her, but the palace and gardens had

e she looked around her, but the palace and gardens had vanished, and she found herself in the open field not far from the

her eyes on a lofty mountain having on its brow a magnificent temple, she sighed and said to herself, “Perhaps my love, my

here,” and directed her steps thither. She had no sooner entered than she saw heaps of corn, some in loose ears and some in

and sorting every thing to its proper place and kind, believing that she ought to neglect none of the gods, but endeavor b

mple of Venus, endeavoring to fortify her mind and ruminating on what she should say and how best propitiate the angry godd

h angry countenance. “Most undutiful and faithless of servants,” said she , “do you at last remember that you really have a

industry and diligence. I will make trial of your housewifery.” Then she ordered Psyche to be led to the storehouse of her

d and silent, without moving a finger to the inextricable heap. While she sat despairing, Cupid stirred up the little ant,

e gods, breathing odors and crowned with roses. Seeing the task done, she exclaimed, “This is no work of yours, wicked one,

is, whom to your own and his misfortune you have enticed.” So saying, she threw her a piece of black bread for her supper a

tructions how to accomplish her task, and by observing his directions she soon returned to Venus with her arms full of the

e soon returned to Venus with her arms full of the golden fleece; but she received not the approbation of her implacable mi

you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending her sick son she has lost some of her own.’ Be not too long on you

to Erebus. Wherefore, to make no delay of what was not to be avoided, she goes to the top of a high tower to precipitate he

ted in all thy former?” Then the voice told her how by a certain cave she might reach the realms of Pluto, and how to avoid

t that was offered her, but contented with coarse bread for her food, she delivered her message from Venus. Presently the b

as returned to her, shut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she returned the way she came, and glad was she to co

hut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she returned the way she came, and glad was she to come out once more into

precious commodity. Then she returned the way she came, and glad was she to come out once more into the light of day. But

ng desire seized her to examine the contents of the box. “What,” said she , “shall I, the carrier of this divine beauty, not

ks to appear to more advantage in the eyes of my beloved husband!” So she carefully opened the box, but found nothing there

hich being thus set free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell down in the midst of the road, a sleepy corp

he sent Mercury to bring Psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, handing her a cup of ambrosia, he said,

nly in the skies; Till wings unto the weary heart were given,     And she became Love’s angel bride in heaven!” The story

disguise to-night Hath our young heroine veiled her light; — For see, she walks the earth, Love’s own.     His wedded bride

hat he should find a cow in the field, and should follow her wherever she might wander, and where she stopped, should build

the field, and should follow her wherever she might wander, and where she stopped, should build a city and call it Thebes.

offering at the same time his prayers to Phœbus. The cow went on till she passed the shallow channel of Cephisus and came o

llow channel of Cephisus and came out into the plain of Panope. There she stood still, and raising her broad forehead to th

over the tents of the hostile army. The siege had lasted so long that she had learned to distinguish the persons of the lea

xcited her admiration. Arrayed in his helmet, and bearing his shield, she admired his graceful deportment; if he threw his

foaming mouth, the daughter of Nisus was hardly mistress of herself; she was almost frantic with admiration. She envied th

ed the weapon that he grasped, the reins that he held. She felt as if she could, if it were possible, go to him through the

she could, if it were possible, go to him through the hostile ranks; she felt an impulse to cast herself down from the tow

s to him, or to do any thing else, so only it might gratify Minos. As she sat in the tower, she talked thus with herself: “

thing else, so only it might gratify Minos. As she sat in the tower, she talked thus with herself: “I know not whether to

. More precious than gold to me, that will give me all I wish.” While she thus reasoned night came on, and soon the whole p

mediately sail from the island. Scylla was frantic. “Ungrateful man,” she exclaimed, “is it thus you leave me? — me who hav

d deserve to die, but not by your hand.” As the ships left the shore, she leaped into the water, and seizing the rudder of

nto the water, and seizing the rudder of the one which carried Minos, she was borne along an unwelcome companion of their c

nced down upon her, and struck her with his beak and claws. In terror she let go the ship and would have fallen into the wa

Echo was a beautiful nymph, fond of the woods and hills, where she devoted herself to woodland sports. She was a fav

te of Diana, and attended her in the chase. But Echo had one failing; she was fond of talking, and whether in chat or argum

would have the last word. One day Juno was seeking her husband, who, she had reason to fear, was amusing himself among the

e goddess till the nymphs made their escape. When Juno discovered it, she passed sentence upon Echo in these words: “You sh

upon the mountains. She loved him, and followed his footsteps. O how she longed to address him in the softest accents, and

nds off! I would rather die than you should have me!” “Have me,” said she ; but it was all in vain. He left her, and she wen

ve me!” “Have me,” said she; but it was all in vain. He left her, and she went to hide her blushes in the recesses of the w

o hide her blushes in the recesses of the woods. From that time forth she lived in caves and among mountain cliffs. Her for

into rocks and there was nothing left of her but her voice. With that she is still ready to reply to any one who calls her,

cho. She kept near him, however, and when he exclaimed, “Alas! alas!” she answered him with the same words. He pined away a

was a water-nymph and in love with Apollo, who made her no return. So she pined away, sitting all day long upon the cold gr

und, with her unbound tresses streaming over her shoulders. Nine days she sat and tasted neither food nor drink, her own te

en he rose, and as he passed through his daily course to his setting; she saw no other object, her face turned constantly o

As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets     The same look that she turned when he rose.” Hero and Leander. Le

. She was also a warlike divinity; but it was defensive war only that she patronized, and she had no sympathy with Mars’s s

like divinity; but it was defensive war only that she patronized, and she had no sympathy with Mars’s savage love of violen

l when it was done, but beautiful also in the doing. To watch her, as she took the wool in its rude state and formed it int

le, one would have said that Minerva herself had taught her. But this she denied, and could not bear to be thought a pupil

pupil even of a goddess. “Let Minerva try her skill with mine,” said she ; “if beaten I will pay the penalty.” Minerva hear

gave Arachne some friendly advice “I have had much experience,” said she , “and I hope you will not despise my counsel. Cha

y, I advise you to ask her forgiveness for what you have said, and as she is merciful perhaps she will pardon you.” Arachne

er forgiveness for what you have said, and as she is merciful perhaps she will pardon you.” Arachne stopped her spinning an

the old dame with anger in her countenance. “Keep your counsel,” said she , “for your daughters or handmaids; for my part I

tand to it. I am not afraid of the goddess; let her try her skill, if she dare venture.” “She comes,” said Minerva; and dro

rrified. She blushed, indeed; a sudden color dyed her cheek, and then she grew pale. But she stood to her resolve, and with

d, indeed; a sudden color dyed her cheek, and then she grew pale. But she stood to her resolve, and with a foolish conceit

ich it swam. She seemed to look with longing eyes back upon the shore she was leaving, and to call to her companions for he

he insult. She struck the web with her shuttle and rent it in pieces, she then touched the forehead of Arachne and made her

ould not endure it and went and hanged herself. Minerva pitied her as she saw her suspended by a rope. “Live,” she said, “g

rself. Minerva pitied her as she saw her suspended by a rope. “Live,” she said, “guilty woman! and that you may preserve th

r side and served for legs. All the rest of her is body, out of which she spins her thread, often hanging suspended by it,

had depicted her creation of the olive tree: — “Amongst these leaves she made a Butterfly, With excellent device and wondr

sign of one dismayed, The victory did yield her as her share; Yet did she inly fret and felly burn, And all her blood to po

s mortals not to compare themselves with the divinities. But one, and she a matron too, failed to learn the lesson of humil

dren; and truly the happiest of mothers would Niobe have been if only she had not claimed to be so. It was on occasion of t

stood and surveyed the people with haughty looks. “What folly,” said she , “is this! — to prefer beings whom you never saw

pleted. The goddess was indignant. On the Cynthian mountain top where she dwelt she thus addressed her son and daughter: “M

e goddess was indignant. On the Cynthian mountain top where she dwelt she thus addressed her son and daughter: “My children

ainted with what had taken place. She could hardly think it possible; she was indignant that the gods had dared and amazed

er dead sons. Raising her pallid arms to heaven, “Cruel Latona,” said she , “feed full your rage with my anguish! Satiate yo

reaved as I am, I am still richer than you, my conqueror.” Scarce had she spoken, when the bow sounded and struck terror in

r dead brothers. One fell, struck by an arrow, and died on the corpse she was bewailing. Another, attempting to console her

dy. “Spare me one, and that the youngest! O spare me one of so many!” she cried; and while she spoke, that one fell dead. D

d that the youngest! O spare me one of so many!” she cried; and while she spoke, that one fell dead. Desolate she sat, amon

o many!” she cried; and while she spoke, that one fell dead. Desolate she sat, among sons, daughters, husband, all dead, an

s continued to flow; and borne on a whirlwind to her native mountain, she still remains, a mass of rock, from which a trick

fallen condition of modern Rome: —     “The Niobe of nations! there she stands,     Childless and crownless in her voicel

he was once a beautiful maiden whose hair was her chief glory, but as she dared to vie in beauty with Minerva, the goddess

hold her without being turned into stone. All around the cavern where she dwelt might be seen the stony figures of men and

m her shield and the latter his winged shoes, approached Medusa while she slept, and taking care not to look directly at he

d Gorgon-shield That wise Minerva wore, unconquered virgin, Wherewith she freezed her foes to congealed stone, But rigid lo

he grisly aspect Of terrible Medusa, When wandering through the woods she turned to stone Their savage tenants; just as the

, and the name of your country, and why you are thus bound.” At first she was silent from modesty, and, if she could, would

hy you are thus bound.” At first she was silent from modesty, and, if she could, would have hid her face with her hands; bu

her face with her hands; but when he repeated his questions, for fear she might be thought guilty of some fault which she d

s questions, for fear she might be thought guilty of some fault which she dared not tell, she disclosed her name and that o

r she might be thought guilty of some fault which she dared not tell, she disclosed her name and that of her country, and h

ame and that of her country, and her mother’s pride of beauty. Before she had done speaking, a sound was heard off upon the

win her by services rendered, if the gods will only be propitious. If she be rescued by my valor, I demand that she be my r

will only be propitious. If she be rescued by my valor, I demand that she be my reward.” The parents consent (how could the

ssiopeia is called “the starred Æthiop queen” because after her death she was placed among the stars, forming the constella

laced among the stars, forming the constellation of that name. Though she attained this honor, yet the Sea-Nymphs, her old

be placed in that part of the heaven near the pole, where every night she is half the time held with her head downward, to

n vain that Cepheus remonstrated, — “You should have claimed her when she lay bound to the rock, the monster’s victim. The

staff.” The Sphinx was so mortified at the solving of her riddle that she cast herself down from the rock and perished. The

, and at sight of the child burst forth into a prophetic strain, (for she was a prophetess,) foretelling the glory that he

rcury assisted her, and gave her a ram with a golden fleece, on which she set the two children, trusting that the ram would

d the goddess to witness his oath. Medea yielded, and by her aid, for she was a potent sorceress, he was furnished with a c

ons and rush upon Jason. The Greeks trembled for their hero, and even she who had provided him a way of safety and taught h

gon’s brood left alive. The Greeks embraced their hero, and Medea, if she dared, would have embraced him, too. It remained

life shall be lengthened without abridging yours.” The next full moon she issued forth alone, while all creatures slept; no

pt; not a breath stirred the foliage, and all was still. To the stars she addressed her incantations, and to the moon; to H

ountains and valleys, of lakes and rivers, of winds and vapors. While she spoke the stars shone brighter, and presently a c

aloft made her way to distant regions, where potent plants grew which she knew how to select for her purpose. Nine nights s

plants grew which she knew how to select for her purpose. Nine nights she employed in her search, and during that time came

len bride that they would not hasten to take the old man’s life. Then she directed that Æson should be led forth, and havin

rofane eyes might look upon her mysteries. Then, with streaming hair, she thrice moved round the altars, dipped flaming twi

to burn. Meanwhile the caldron with its contents was got ready. In it she put magic herbs, with seeds and flowers of acrid

ine generations of men. These with many other things “without a name” she boiled together for her purposed work, stirring t

r arts here for a good purpose, but not so in another instance, where she made them the instruments of revenge. Pelias, our

erent way. She put in only water and a few simple herbs. In the night she with the sisters entered the bed chamber of the o

but had little enjoyment of the fruits of her crime. Jason, for whom she had done so much, wishing to marry Creusa, prince

e palace, mounted her serpent-drawn chariot and fled to Athens, where she married King Ægeus, the father of Theseus, and we

med to attribute every degree of atrocity. In her flight from Colchis she had taken her young brother Absyrtus with her. Fi

er. Finding the pursuing vessels of Æetes gaining upon the Argonauts, she caused the lad to be killed and his limbs to be s

fered sacrifices to the gods, omitted to pay due honors to Diana; and she , indignant at the neglect, sent a wild boar of en

nd the rest opposed the gift, and snatched from the maiden the trophy she had received. Meleager, kindling with rage at the

the stern desire of vengeance on her son. The fatal brand, which once she rescued from the flames, the brand which the Dest

lames, the brand which the Destinies had linked with Meleager’s life, she brings forth, and commands a fire to be prepared.

she brings forth, and commands a fire to be prepared. Then four times she essays to place the brand upon the pile; four tim

on. The feelings of the mother and the sister contend within her. Now she is pale at the thought of the purposed deed, now

ded in uncertainty. But now the sister prevails above the mother, and she begins as she holds the fatal wood: “Turn, ye Fur

inty. But now the sister prevails above the mother, and she begins as she holds the fatal wood: “Turn, ye Furies, goddesses

quest; but, brothers, ye have conquered.” And, turning away her face, she threw the fatal wood upon the burning pile. It ga

do not marry; marriage will be your ruin.” Terrified by this oracle, she fled the society of men, and devoted herself to t

, and devoted herself to the sports of the chase. To all suitors (for she had many) she imposed a condition which was gener

herself to the sports of the chase. To all suitors (for she had many) she imposed a condition which was generally effectual

y to win. While such were his thoughts, the virgin darted forward. As she ran she looked more beautiful than ever. The bree

. While such were his thoughts, the virgin darted forward. As she ran she looked more beautiful than ever. The breezes seem

nta looked at him with a pitying countenance, and hardly knew whether she would rather conquer him or not. “What god can te

up the race, or if he will be so mad, I hope he may outrun me.” While she hesitates, revolving these thoughts, the spectato

a tree with yellow leaves and yellow branches and golden fruit. Hence she gathered three golden apples, and, unseen by any

own: of the huntress-heroine, triumphing in the blood of her lovers, she made a lioness, and of her lord and master a lion

d Ops. She was the wife of Cronos and mother of Zeus. In works of art she exhibits the matronly air which distinguishes Jun

hibits the matronly air which distinguishes Juno and Ceres. Sometimes she is veiled, and seated on a throne with lions at h

was always hostile to the offspring of her husband by mortal mothers, she declared war against Hercules from his birth. She

had received at her wedding from the goddess of the Earth, and which she had intrusted to the keeping of the daughters of

erve the love of her husband. Dejanira did so and before long fancied she had occasion to use it. Hercules in one of his co

-spell, steeped the garment in the blood of Nessus. We are to suppose she took care to wash out all traces of it, but the m

arked on board a ship and was conveyed home. Dejanira, on seeing what she had unwittingly done, hung herself. Hercules, pre

assent; Juno only heard the closing words with some displeasure that she should be so particularly pointed at, yet not eno

goddess of youth, was cup-bearer to the gods. The usual story is that she resigned her office on becoming the wife of Hercu

is, Hebe was dismissed from her office in consequence of a fall which she met with one day when in attendance on the gods.

trong enough to roll away the stone and take them from under it. When she thought the time had come, his mother led Theseus

luence with her husband if Theseus should be acknowledged as his son, she filled the mind of Ægeus with suspicions of the y

s whom Theseus espoused is by some called Hippolyta. That is the name she bears in Shakspere’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, — t

plan for her destruction. Assuming the form of Beroë, her aged nurse, she insinuated doubts whether it was indeed Jove hims

ether it was indeed Jove himself who came as a lover. Heaving a sigh, she said, “I hope it will turn out so, but I can’t he

oath, attesting the river Styx, terrible to the gods themselves. Then she made known her request. The god would have stoppe

s. Then she made known her request. The god would have stopped her as she spake, but she was too quick for him. The words e

e known her request. The god would have stopped her as she spake, but she was too quick for him. The words escaped, and he

f. But Venus took pity on her, and consoled her with the promise that she should have an immortal lover, instead of the mor

ise that she should have an immortal lover, instead of the mortal one she had lost. The island where Ariadne was left was t

iage present he gave her a golden crown, enriched with gems, and when she died, he took her crown and threw it up into the

nd invoked punishment upon Erisichthon. She nodded her assent, and as she bowed her head the grain ripe for harvest in the

tes have ordained that these two goddesses shall never come together, she called an Oread from her mountain and spoke to he

obey the rein, and will take you through the air in a short time.” So she gave her the rein, and she drove away and soon re

e you through the air in a short time.” So she gave her the rein, and she drove away and soon reached Scythia. On arriving

he drove away and soon reached Scythia. On arriving at Mount Caucasus she stopped the dragons and found Famine in a stony f

ight, so as to show all her bones. As the Oread saw her afar off (for she did not dare to come near,) she delivered the com

s. As the Oread saw her afar off (for she did not dare to come near,) she delivered the commands of Ceres; and, though she

dare to come near,) she delivered the commands of Ceres; and, though she stopped as short a time as possible, and kept her

stopped as short a time as possible, and kept her distance as well as she could, yet she began to feel hungry, and turned t

t a time as possible, and kept her distance as well as she could, yet she began to feel hungry, and turned the dragons’ hea

him, infusing her poison into his veins. Having discharged her task, she hastened to leave the land of plenty and returned

t. Her too he sold. She scorned to be the slave of a purchaser and as she stood by the sea side raised her hands in prayer

e was deceived and went his way, thinking his slave had escaped. Then she resumed her own form. Her father was well pleased

e money too that he got by the sale of her; so he sold her again. But she was changed by the favor of Neptune as often as s

ld her again. But she was changed by the favor of Neptune as often as she was sold, now into a horse, now a bird, now an ox

and told him that a bee should be her messenger and let him know when she would admit his society. One time the bee came to

ts and he carelessly brushed it away. This so incensed the nymph that she deprived him of sight. Our countryman, J. R. Lowe

g of Rome, was favored by this nymph with secret interviews, in which she taught him those lessons of wisdom and of law whi

the decree was irrevocable. Alcestis sickened as Admetus revived, and she was rapidly sinking to the grave. Just at this ti

f an affectionate but timid sister, and unable to procure assistance, she determined to brave the hazard, and to bury the b

er own hands. She was detected in the act, and Creon gave orders that she should be buried alive, as having deliberately se

ropped her veil over her face. Icarius urged her no further, but when she was gone erected a statue to Modesty on the spot

r choice among the suitors when the robe was finished. During the day she worked at the robe, but in the night she undid th

was finished. During the day she worked at the robe, but in the night she undid the work of the day. This is the famous Pen

ed to you and sooner or later must pass to your domain. She too, when she shall have filled her term of life, will rightly

er air. Under this condition they proceeded on their way, he leading, she following, through passages dark and steep, in to

d, when Orpheus, in a moment of forgetfulness, to assure himself that she was still following, cast a glance behind him, wh

hat she was still following, cast a glance behind him, when instantly she was borne away. Stretching out their arms to embr

race one another, they grasped only the air! Dying now a second time, she yet cannot reproach her husband, for how can she

g now a second time, she yet cannot reproach her husband, for how can she blame his impatience to behold her? “Farewell,” s

band, for how can she blame his impatience to behold her? “Farewell,” she said, “a last farewell,” — and was hurried away,

y roam the happy fields together now, sometimes he leading, sometimes she ; and Orpheus gazes as much as he will upon her, n

of the story: — “But soon, too soon the lover turns his eyes; Again she falls, again she dies, she dies! How wilt thou no

“But soon, too soon the lover turns his eyes; Again she falls, again she dies, she dies! How wilt thou now the fatal siste

, too soon the lover turns his eyes; Again she falls, again she dies, she dies! How wilt thou now the fatal sisters move? N

from me the blow of misfortune.” His mother heard these complaints as she sat in her palace at the bottom of the river, wit

, he will return to his own figure and obey your commands.” So saying she sprinkled her son with fragrant nectar, the bever

ophet’s cave and concealed him among the recesses of the rocks, while she herself took her place behind the clouds. When no

f your deeds, by which Eurydice met her death, for in flying from you she trod upon a serpent, of whose bite she died. To a

death, for in flying from you she trod upon a serpent, of whose bite she died. To avenge her death, the nymphs, her compan

tying Dirce by the hair of her head to a bull, let him drag her till she was dead.15 Amphion, having become king of Thebes

ho didst find thy Eurydice, and lose her again as soon as found; when she had vanished like a dream, how didst thou hate th

nent poetical genius. The story of Sappho commonly alluded to is that she was passionately in love with a beautiful youth n

utiful youth named Phaon, and failing to obtain a return of affection she threw herself from the promontory of Leucadia int

heart of the virgin goddess was warmed by his surpassing beauty, and she came down to him, kissed him, and watched over hi

ok care that his fortunes should not suffer by his inactive life, for she made his flock increase, and guarded his sheep an

Endymion, from whose eyes She took eternal fire that never dies; How she conveyed him softly in a sleep, His temples bound

His temples bound with poppy, to the steep Head of old Latmos, where she stoops each night, Gilding the mountain with her

a hunter with Diana, with whom he was a favorite, and it is even said she was about to marry him. Her brother was highly di

ve the water, Apollo pointed it out to his sister and maintained that she could not hit that black thing on the sea. The ar

are visible, for Electra, one of them, it is said left her place that she might not behold the ruin of Troy, for that city

ty; but, forgetting to have youth joined in the gift, after some time she began to discern, to her great mortification, tha

mortification, that he was growing old. When his hair was quite white she left his society; but he still had the range of h

ial raiment. At length he lost the power of using his limbs, and then she shut him up in his chamber, whence his feeble voi

his chamber, whence his feeble voice might at times be heard. Finally she turned him into a grasshopper. Memnon was the son

n in the sky had viewed with apprehension the danger of her son, when she saw him fall, directed his brothers, the Winds, t

led them all, and would go to the grotto of Galatea, and tell her how she was persecuted. One day the goddess, while Scylla

er delicate finger, and soothed the goddess, “Tell me, dearest,” said she , “the cause of your grief.” Galatea then said, “A

rojan War. Minerva was the goddess of wisdom, but on one occasion she did a very foolish thing; she entered into compet

goddess of wisdom, but on one occasion she did a very foolish thing; she entered into competition with Juno and Venus for

her son was fated to perish before Troy if he went on the expedition, she endeavored to prevent his going. She sent him awa

onsent, and the maiden Iphigenia was sent for under the pretence that she was to be married to Achilles. When she was about

t for under the pretence that she was to be married to Achilles. When she was about to be sacrificed the goddess relented a

most tenderly attached to him. When the news of his death reached her she implored the gods to be allowed to converse with

ot of spiry trees for ages grew     From out the tomb of him for whom she died;     And ever when such stature they had gai

r husband, who sat on Olympus watching the battle. When he beheld her she looked so charming that the fondness of his early

the ears of his mother, Thetis, far down in the deeps of ocean where she abode, and she hastened to him to inquire the cau

s mother, Thetis, far down in the deeps of ocean where she abode, and she hastened to him to inquire the cause. She found h

ithout armor, and promised him, if he would but wait till the morrow, she would procure for him a suit of armor from Vulcan

f the mourning reached the ears of Andromache, the wife of Hector, as she sat among her maidens at work, and anticipating e

f Hector, as she sat among her maidens at work, and anticipating evil she went forth to the wall. When she saw the sight th

idens at work, and anticipating evil she went forth to the wall. When she saw the sight there presented, she would have thr

l she went forth to the wall. When she saw the sight there presented, she would have thrown herself headlong from the wall,

wall, but fainted and fell into the arms of her maidens. Recovering, she bewailed her fate, picturing to herself her count

x, which made every part of him invulnerable except the heel by which she held him.16 The body of Achilles so treacherousl

d abandoned for the fatal beauty Helen. Œnone, remembering the wrongs she had suffered, refused to heal the wound, and Pari

overed possession of his wife, who had not ceased to love him, though she had yielded to the might of Venus and deserted hi

might of Venus and deserted him for another. After the death of Paris she aided the Greeks secretly on several occasions, a

t kept the secret and even assisted them in obtaining the image. Thus she became reconciled to her husband, and they were a

Clytemnestra had been false to him, and when his return was expected, she with her paramour, Ægisthus, laid a plan for his

readers will remember, was snatched away by Diana at the moment when she was about to be sacrificed. Ascertaining from the

lions, tigers, and wolves, not fierce, but tamed by Circe’s art, for she was a powerful magician. These dreadful animals f

erved with wine and other delicacies. When they had feasted heartily, she touched them one by one with her wand, and they b

the palace was courteously received by Circe, who entertained him as she had done his companions, and after he had eaten a

ell on her knees and begged for mercy. He dictated a solemn oath that she would release his companions and practise no furt

his companions and practise no further harm against him or them; and she repeated it, at the same time promising to dismis

ve already met with Scylla in the story of Glaucus, and remember that she was once a beautiful maiden and was changed into

nster by Circe. She dwelt in a cave high up on the cliff, from whence she was accustomed to thrust forth her long necks, (f

, from whence she was accustomed to thrust forth her long necks, (for she had six heads,) and in each of her mouths to seiz

d reminding them that the Phæacians had no enemies to fear. This man, she told them, was an unhappy wanderer, whom it was a

s filled with admiration, and scrupled not to say to her damsels that she wished the gods would send her such a husband. To

ls that she wished the gods would send her such a husband. To Ulysses she recommended that he should repair to the city, fo

he way lay through the fields; but when they should approach the city she desired that he would no longer be seen in her co

city she desired that he would no longer be seen in her company, for she feared the remarks which rude and vulgar people m

ing her return accompanied by such a gallant stranger. To avoid which she directed him to stop at a grove adjoining the cit

aiden replied respectfully, offering to be his guide; for the palace, she informed him, stood near her father’s dwelling. U

incess Nausicaa having had resort to her chariot and to luncheon when she went with the maidens of the court to wash their

, and directed him to make himself known to his son. At the same time she touched him, removed at once from him the appeara

tor, became the wife of one of the victorious Grecian chiefs, to whom she bore a son. Her husband dying, she was left regen

victorious Grecian chiefs, to whom she bore a son. Her husband dying, she was left regent of the country, as guardian of he

ds their destined shore, felt her old grudge against them revive, for she could not forget the slight that Paris had put up

another. In heavenly minds can such resentments dwell. 22 Accordingly she hastened to Æolus, the ruler of the winds, — the

they could enclose with a bull’s hide. When this was readily granted, she caused the hide to be cut into strips, and with t

he hide to be cut into strips, and with them enclosed a spot on which she built a citadel, and called it Byrsa, (a hide.) A

with friendliness and hospitality. “Not unacquainted with distress,” she said, “I have learned to succor the unfortunate.”

d commanding him to resume his voyage. Æneas parted from Dido, though she tried every allurement and persuasion to detain h

her affection and her pride was too much for her to endure, and when she found that he was gone, she mounted a funeral pil

was too much for her to endure, and when she found that he was gone, she mounted a funeral pile which she had caused to be

and when she found that he was gone, she mounted a funeral pile which she had caused to be erected, and having stabbed hers

luding words of the Sibyl alluded to her prophetic power. In her cave she was accustomed to inscribe on leaves gathered fro

e books, and returning offered the remaining books for the same price she had asked for the nine. The king again rejected t

more, returned and asked for the three remaining the same price which she had before asked for the nine, his curiosity was

s to the Sibyl. Speaking of Worldly Wisdom, he says, “If future fate she plans ’tis all in leaves, Like Sibyl, unsubstanti

birds had threatened the Trojans with dire sufferings. In particular she predicted that before their wanderings ceased the

ers and of the attempts of their prince to rob him of his bride. Next she turned her attention to the camp of the Trojans.

ride. Next she turned her attention to the camp of the Trojans. There she saw the boy Iulus and his companions amusing them

the toils of war, and in speed to outstrip the wind. It seemed as if she might run over the standing corn without crushing

shepherds and brought up his daughter in woodland arts. While a child she was taught to use the bow and throw the javelin.

d she was taught to use the bow and throw the javelin. With her sling she could bring down the crane or the wild swan. Her

as a tiger’s skin. Many mothers sought her for a daughter-in-law, but she continued faithful to Diana and repelled the thou

ve but one boon to ask. My aged mother is with me in the camp. For me she left the Trojan soil, and would not stay behind w

my whose splendid armor offered a tempting prize. Intent on the chase she observed not her danger, and the javelin of Aruns

nd flung the chest into the Nile. When Isis heard of the cruel murder she wept and mourned, and then with her hair shorn, c

nd then with her hair shorn, clothed in black and beating her breast, she sought diligently for the body of her husband. In

st, she sought diligently for the body of her husband. In this search she was materially assisted by Anubis, the son of Osi

Isis ascertained these facts, and then went to the royal city. There she offered herself at the palace as a servant, and b

rounded with thunder and lightning. Striking the column with her wand she caused it to split open and give up the sacred co

wand she caused it to split open and give up the sacred coffin. This she seized and returned with it, and concealed it in

thirteen pieces, the fishes of the Nile having eaten the other. This she replaced by an imitation of sycamore wood, and bu

Minerva at Athens. The goddess was represented standing. In one hand she held a spear, in the other a statue of Victory. H

th the last. The force of nature could no further go; To make a third she joined the other two.” From Cowper’s Table Talk:

irst is seen, Her feathered subjects all adore their queen, And while she makes her progress through the East, From every g

!         Gaze on oppression, till at that dread risk,         Aghast she pass from the earth’s disk. Fear not, but gaze, —

ot nourishment by licking the hoar frost and salt from the ice. While she was one day licking the salt stones there appeare

iffleheim, and gave her power over nine worlds or regions, into which she distributes those who are sent to her; that is, a

ly be recognized, for her body is half flesh color and half blue, and she has a dreadfully stern and forbidding countenance

e whole down with three tuns of mead. Loki, however, assured him that she had not tasted any thing for eight long nights, s

his journey and obtained the maiden’s promise that within nine nights she would come to a certain place and there wed Frey.

hortly told. The more Thor tightened his hold on the crone the firmer she stood. At length after a very violent struggle Th

woman, he went to Fensalir, the mansion of Frigga. That goddess, when she saw the pretended woman, inquired of her if she k

a. That goddess, when she saw the pretended woman, inquired of her if she knew what the gods were doing at their meetings.

mong them wished to gain all her love and good will. “For this,” said she , “shall he have who will ride to Hel and offer He

d she, “shall he have who will ride to Hel and offer Hela a ransom if she will let Baldur return to Asgard.” Whereupon Herm

den over the bridge, and did not shake it as much as he alone. “But,” she added, “thou hast not death’s hue on thee; why th

whether Baldur was so beloved as he was said to be. “If, therefore,” she added, “all things in the world, both living and

kt sitting in a cavern, and begged her to weep Baldur out of Hel. But she answered, — “Thaukt will wail With dry tears Bal

e ship, and his wife Nanna was so struck with grief at the sight that she broke her heart, and her body was burned on the s

ts by his side and catches the drops as they fall, in a cup; but when she carries it away to empty it, the venom falls upon

ol.” 3. The goddess of innocence and purity. After leaving earth, she was placed among the stars, where she became the

nd purity. After leaving earth, she was placed among the stars, where she became the constellation Virgo — the Virgin. Them

stræa. She is represented as holding aloft a pair of scales, in which she weighs the claims of opposing parties. It was a f

all expression, Gæa swore revenge, and descended into Tartarus, where she urged the Titans to conspire against their father

ance. Wholly unsuspicious, Rhea heard him inquire for his son. Gladly she placed him in his extended arms; but imagine her

ed him in his extended arms; but imagine her surprise and horror when she beheld her husband swallow the babe. Time passed,

ied; and as soon as her youngest son, Jupiter (Jove, Zeus), was born, she concealed him. The Childhood of Zeus. From th

to his commands. Hastily wrapping a large stone in swaddling clothes, she handed it to Cronus, simulating intense grief. Cr

le. “To th’ imperial son of Heaven, Whilom the king of gods, a stone she gave Inwrapt in infant swathes; and this with gra

procured to act as nurse, and fulfilled her office so acceptably that she was eventually placed in the heavens as a constel

thright, created a terrible monster, called Typhœus, or Typhon, which she sent to attack him. This Typhœus was a giant, fro

here, in solemn council, they decided to create woman; and as soon as she had been artfully fashioned, each one endowed her

the peerless creature; and the gods, after due consideration, decreed she should be called Pandora. They then bade Mercury

with feminine curiosity upon the contents of the chest. In a whisper she begged Epimetheus to ask Mercury what brought him

, and very much discouraged, Epimetheus sauntered out alone, thinking she would soon join him, and perhaps by some caress a

sterious casket, Pandora became more and more inquisitive. Stealthily she drew near and examined it with great interest, fo

Pandora, who prided herself specially on her deft fingers, felt sure she could unfasten it, and, reasoning that it would n

ten it, and, reasoning that it would not be indiscreet to untie it if she did not raise the lid, she set to work. Long she

it would not be indiscreet to untie it if she did not raise the lid, she set to work. Long she strove, but all in vain. Ev

creet to untie it if she did not raise the lid, she set to work. Long she strove, but all in vain. Ever and anon the laughi

the luxuriant shade, were wafted in on the summer breeze. Repeatedly she heard them call and beseech her to join them; yet

eze. Repeatedly she heard them call and beseech her to join them; yet she persisted in her attempt. She was just on the poi

e whispers issued from the box. The noise now seemed to increase, and she breathlessly applied her ear to the lid to ascert

t really proceeded from within. Imagine, therefore, her surprise when she distinctly heard these words, uttered in the most

d loud, that it seemed for a moment to drown all other sounds. Should she open the box? Just then a familiar step outside m

liar step outside made her start guiltily. Epimetheus was coming, and she knew he would urge her again to come out, and wou

prevent the gratification of her curiosity. Precipitately, therefore, she raised the lid to have one little peep before he

wife open the box and set the speaker free, adding very amiably, that she had already done so much harm by her ill-fated cu

se ministrations might prove beneficial. It was well for Pandora that she opened the box a second time, for the gods, with

       Are confident and gay; Clouds at her bidding disappear; Points she to aught? —the bliss draws near,         And Fanc

very motion lends her power: She flies and waxes every hour. At first she shrinks, and cowers for dread:         Ere long s

ry hour. At first she shrinks, and cowers for dread:         Ere long she soars on high: Upon the ground she plants her tre

cowers for dread:         Ere long she soars on high: Upon the ground she plants her tread,         Her forehead in the sky

, goddess of fortune, poised on a constantly revolving wheel, whereon she journeyed throughout the world, scattering with c

er’s meadows with her three brothers, Cadmus, Phœnix, and Cilix, when she suddenly saw a white bull coming towards her; not

eadow-blossoms. Then, seeing him kneel, as if to invite her to mount, she lightly sprang upon his broad back, calling to he

to her companions to follow her example; but, before they could do as she wished, the bull had risen to his feet, and gallo

to announce her sudden involuntary departure. Agenor, whose favourite she had always been, rent his garments in grief, and

ay, the only reply he received was, “Follow the cow, and settle where she rests.” The Delphic Sibyl. Michael Angelo. I

was inclined to be faithless, and Juno jealous, and, like the element she personified, exceedingly variable in her moods. O

she personified, exceedingly variable in her moods. On such occasions she gave way to her violent temper, and bitterly repr

ting her, Juno discovered the object of his affections. Night and day she thought and planned, until she devised a species

bject of his affections. Night and day she thought and planned, until she devised a species of revenge which seemed adequat

her husband, had also her special attendant, Iris (the Rainbow), whom she frequently employed as messenger, — a task which

ch celerity as Mercury. Her flight through the air was so rapid, that she was seldom seen; and no one would have known she

r was so rapid, that she was seldom seen; and no one would have known she had passed, had it not been for the brilliant tra

an old priestess was very anxious to go to the temple at Argos, where she had ministered to the goddess for many years, and

os, where she had ministered to the goddess for many years, and which she had left only to be married. The way was long and

devotion. The mother was so touched by her sons’ affection, that, as she knelt before the altar, she fervently prayed Juno

touched by her sons’ affection, that, as she knelt before the altar, she fervently prayed Juno to bestow upon them the gre

eir unwonted exertions; but instead of finding them merely asleep, as she expected, she found them dead. The Queen of Heave

xertions; but instead of finding them merely asleep, as she expected, she found them dead. The Queen of Heaven had transpor

Minerva to surpass him. Loudly they laughed, and scornfully too, when she , in her turn, produced an olive tree; but when sh

ornfully too, when she, in her turn, produced an olive tree; but when she had told them the manifold uses to which wood, fr

ls, and in times of war borrowed his terrible shield, the Ægis, which she flung over her shoulder when she sallied forth to

his terrible shield, the Ægis, which she flung over her shoulder when she sallied forth to give her support to those whose

battle had no terrors for this doughty goddess, and on every occasion she was wont to plunge into the thickest of the fray

en times a maiden by the name of Arachne. Pretty, young, and winsome, she would have been loved by all had it not been for

fancied that no one could equal the work done by her deft fingers, so she boasted far and wide that she would not hesitate

l the work done by her deft fingers, so she boasted far and wide that she would not hesitate to match her skill with Minerv

t in high Olympus to punish the maiden. In the guise of an old crone, she entered Arachne’s house, seated herself, and bega

ed her rash boast. Minerva gently advised her to be more modest, lest she should incur the wrath of the gods by her presump

r presumptuous words; but Arachne was so blinded by her conceit, that she scorned the well-meant warning, saucily tossed he

scorned the well-meant warning, saucily tossed her head, and declared she wished the goddess would hear her, and propose a

he wished the goddess would hear her, and propose a contest, in which she would surely be able to prove the truth of her as

uth of her assertions. This insolent speech so incensed Minerva, that she cast aside her disguise and accepted the challeng

ive and move under Minerva’s flashing shuttle. “Emongst these leaves she made a Butterflie, With excellent device and wond

eed. Bitterly did Arachne now repent of her folly; and in her despair she bound a rope about her neck, and hung herself. Mi

ng herself. Minerva saw her discomfited rival was about to escape: so she quickly changed her dangling body into a spider,

een aroused by Jupiter’s preference for her rival. To avenge herself, she banished Latona to earth, and declared that if an

; but, urged by Juno, some reapers bade her pass on, and then, seeing she paid no heed to their commands, they sprang into

Juno’s unrelenting hatred, Latona finally came to the seashore, where she stretched out imploring hands to Neptune, who sen

ntly, so as not to frighten her; but, before he could reach her side, she fled, and he, forgetful of all else, pursued her

ises or entreaties, but sped on until her strength began to fail, and she perceived, that, notwithstanding her utmost effor

ost efforts, her pursuer was gaining upon her. Panting and trembling, she swerved aside, and rushed down to the edge of her

father’s stream, calling out loudly for his protection. No sooner had she reached the water’s edge, than her feet seemed ro

Cephalus’ affections, and who now resolved to put an end to the bliss she envied. All day long Cephalus hunted in the fores

s fully aware that he merely addressed the passing wind; nevertheless she sought Procris, and informed her that her husband

ir, oh come!” the hunter cried; and Procris, cut to the heart by what she considered an infallible proof of his infidelity,

his wife. Her dying moan brought him with one bound to her side; ere she breathed her last, an explanation was given and r

e in the morning until he came to the far western sea in the evening, she followed his course with loving eyes, thought of

ired god, and longed for his love. But, in spite of all this fervour, she never won favour in Apollo’s eyes, and languished

ot forget the object of her love; and now, a fit emblem of constancy, she still follows with upturned face the glowing orb

s the sunflower turns on her god when he sets     The same look which she turn’d when he rose.” Moore. Clytie. Lord

by the banks of a small stream, was trying her skill on the flute. As she bent over the limpid waters, she suddenly beheld

as trying her skill on the flute. As she bent over the limpid waters, she suddenly beheld her puffed cheeks and distorted f

ven wrote verses in his honour. This being the state of her feelings, she readily consented to their union, and became the

uth named Aristæus, whose bold admiration proved so distasteful, that she fled from him as quickly as possible. In her hast

tasteful, that she fled from him as quickly as possible. In her haste she accidentally trod upon a venomous serpent lurking

eyes. “No word of plaint even in that second Death Against her lord she uttered, — how could Love Too anxious be upbraide

ious be upbraided? — but one last And sad ‘Farewell!’ scarce audible, she sighed, And vanisht to the Ghosts that late she l

ell!’ scarce audible, she sighed, And vanisht to the Ghosts that late she left.” Ovid ( H. King’s tr.). All was now over.

elf-same mournful expression of which he had caught a mere glimpse as she drifted reluctantly back into the dark shadows of

f a wild bull, let him loose to drag her over briars and stones until she perished. This punishment inflicted upon Dirce is

gods the boon of everlasting life to confer upon him. Alas! however, she forgot to ask at the same time for continued yout

uld never die, and wishing to rid herself of his burdensome presence, she changed him into a grasshopper. At this time the

ghter of Tantalus, Niobe, heard this boast, and laughed in scorn; for she was the mother of fourteen children, — seven manl

ldren, — seven manly sons and seven beautiful daughters. In her pride she called aloud to Latona, and taunted her because h

l proverbial speed the tidings reached Niobe, whose heart failed when she heard that her seven sons, her pride and delight,

erly hastened a few hours before, to follow the deer to its cover. As she mourned their untimely death, she thought her cup

to follow the deer to its cover. As she mourned their untimely death, she thought her cup of sorrow was full; but long ere

hed by the sight of woe so intense, changed Niobe into stone, just as she stood, with upturned face, streaming eyes, and qu

roduced into Olympus, all the gods expressed a wish to marry her; but she refused to listen to their entreaties, begged her

ss stars, which shone their brightest to cheer her on her way; and as she drove she often bent down to view the sleeping ea

which shone their brightest to cheer her on her way; and as she drove she often bent down to view the sleeping earth, so sh

ng Cynthia sheds her silver light, Wide o’er the world in solemn pomp she drew Her airy chariot hung with pearly dew.”

t hung with pearly dew.” The Story of Endymion One evening, as she was driving noiselessly along, she suddenly check

ory of Endymion One evening, as she was driving noiselessly along, she suddenly checked her steeds; for there on the hil

sly along, she suddenly checked her steeds; for there on the hillside she saw a handsome young shepherd fast asleep, his up

eart beat with more than admiration. Gliding gently from her chariot, she floated to his side, bent slowly, and dropped an

ernal sleep to fall upon him, and bore him off to Mount Latmus, where she concealed him in a cave held sacred to her, and n

athered her arrow, and sent it with such force and accurate aim, that she touched the point, and saw it vanish beneath the

was refreshing himself by a sea bath, was given her as a target. When she discovered her error, she mourned his loss with m

a sea bath, was given her as a target. When she discovered her error, she mourned his loss with many tears, vowed never to

ctæon When Diana had finished her nightly journey in her moon car, she seized her bow and arrows, and, attended by her n

unter. Speechless with indignation that a mortal had beheld her thus, she caught some water in her hollow palm, flung it in

aughter of Jupiter and Dione, goddess of moisture: others report that she sprang from the foam of the sea.                

d to show their love for their new mistress. When the wave upon which she reclined came nearer still, the “rosy-bosomed Hou

een the shadows of the vine bunches Floated the glowing sunlights, as she moved.” Tennyson. This hasty and somewhat primi

riage. A throne had been prepared for the expected goddess, and, when she suddenly appeared to take possession of it, the a

ng of gods was slighted, and, to punish her for her pride, he decreed she should marry Vulcan, god of the forge, the most i

tead of being a faithful wife, soon deserted him, and openly declared she would please herself. The Story of Alectryon

Adonis Venus, however, did not lavish all her love upon Mars, for she is said to have felt a tender passion for a young

h pursuit of dangerous game caused Venus many anxious alarms. In vain she besought him to forego the pleasures of the chase

od tingeing all the white roses along her way with a faint pink. When she arrived, she found her beloved Adonis cold in dea

ll the white roses along her way with a faint pink. When she arrived, she found her beloved Adonis cold in death, and her p

cold in death, and her passionate caresses met with no response. Then she burst into such a passion of tears that the wood

enus’ grief, but, on the contrary, made it more and more unendurable, she went to Olympus, where she fell at Jupiter’s feet

ntrary, made it more and more unendurable, she went to Olympus, where she fell at Jupiter’s feet, imploring him to release

ack. Venus’ love was, however, all transferred to her son Æneas, whom she signally protected throughout his checkered caree

t ardent admirers and faithful worshippers were the young people, for she delighted in their youthful sentiments, and was e

e, ministering to the goddess, or in a lonely tower by the sea, where she dwelt alone with her aged nurse. “Honey-sweet He

y been stated, was always deeply interested in young lovers; and when she saw these two, so well matched in beauty and grac

ers; and when she saw these two, so well matched in beauty and grace, she bade Cupid pierce them with his love darts, which

iden’s and a youth’s — Leander he, And lovely Hero, Sestos’ sweetest, she ; She of her town, and he of his, the boast; A nob

The maiden listened to his pleading with mingled joy and terror, for she knew her parents would never consent to their uni

never consent to their union Then, afraid lest one should notice that she was talking to a stranger, she bade him depart; b

en, afraid lest one should notice that she was talking to a stranger, she bade him depart; but he refused to go until he ha

she bade him depart; but he refused to go until he had learned where she lived, and proposed to swim across the Hellespont

dwin Arnold. At last his prayers overcame the maiden’s scruples, and she arranged to receive him in her sea-girt tower, pr

vers finished their interview and parted, he to return to Abydus, and she to prepare for the daily duties which would soon

ver would renounce his nightly journey; but still, when evening came, she lighted her torch to serve as beacon, should he r

the tower, straining her eyes to pierce the darkness. All night long she waited and watched for the lover who did not come

id not come; and, when the first sunbeams shone over the tossing sea, she cast an anxious glance over the waters to Abydus.

xious glance over the waters to Abydus. No one was in sight as far as she could see. She was about to descend to pursue her

d to pursue her daily tasks, when, glancing at the foot of the tower, she saw her lover’s corpse heaving up and down on the

’d with the wave.” Byron. Hero’s heart broke at this sad sight, and she longed to die, too, that she might not be parted

ero’s heart broke at this sad sight, and she longed to die, too, that she might not be parted from Leander. To hasten their

, that she might not be parted from Leander. To hasten their meeting, she threw herself into the sea, and perished in the w

to see her lover, was the first to reach the trysting-place, and, as she slowly paced back and forth to while away the tim

as she slowly paced back and forth to while away the time of waiting, she wondered what had happened to delay Pyramus. Her

some neighbouring bushes: and, thinking Pyramus was concealed there, she was about to call to him that he was discovered,

ut to call to him that he was discovered, when, instead of her lover, she saw a lion emerge from the thicket and come towar

er bloody veil pressed convulsively to his lips. With a cry of terror she flew to his side, and tried to revive him; but, w

d to revive him; but, when assured that all her efforts were in vain, she drew the dagger from his breast, and, plunging it

nd talkative nymph Echo lived free from care and whole of heart until she met Narcissus, hunting in the forest. This frivol

g in the forest. This frivolous girl no sooner beheld the youth, than she fell deeply in love with him, and was proportiona

he fell deeply in love with him, and was proportionately grieved when she saw that he did not return her affection. All her

ishments were unavailing, and in her despair at his hard-heartedness, she implored Venus to punish him by making him suffer

er the pangs of unrequited love; then, melancholy and longing to die, she wandered off into the mountains, far from the hau

the youth now addressed her; and her ruby lips parted and moved as if she were answering, though not a sound came to his ea

ing glances and actions, he tried once more to clasp her in his arms, she vanished as rapidly as the first time. Time and a

ams illumined his retreat, he bent over the pool to ascertain whether she too were anxious and sleepless, and saw her gazin

of a petty kind, and persecuted the poor girl so remorselessly, that she fled from home with the firm intention of putting

fled from home with the firm intention of putting an end to the life she could no longer enjoy in peace. To achieve this p

wafted over hill and dale, across sparkling waters; and, long before she wearied of this new mode of travel, she was gentl

ling waters; and, long before she wearied of this new mode of travel, she was gently laid on a flowery bank, in the midst o

d on a flowery bank, in the midst of an exquisite garden. Bewildered, she slowly rose to her feet, rubbed her pretty eyes t

red, she slowly rose to her feet, rubbed her pretty eyes to make sure she was not dreaming, and wonderingly strolled about

aming, and wonderingly strolled about the beautiful grounds. Ere long she came to an enchanted palace, whose portals opened

over his name, or to catch a glimpse of his face, warning her that if she did so he would be forced to leave her, never to

and at last, encouraged by her lover’s evident anxiety to please her, she gave utterance to her longing to see and converse

mysterious nightly visitor, — all, in short, that had happened since she had left her father’s home. Psyche. Harry B

f day, lest he should make her loathe him, and further added that, if she were not very careful, he would probably end by d

uch with great caution, bent over her sleeping lover. The lamp, which she held high above her head, cast its light full upo

of a handsome youth. Psyche’s heart beat loudly with joy and pride as she beheld, instead of the monster, this graceful you

de as she beheld, instead of the monster, this graceful youth; and as she hung over him, enraptured, she forgot all caution

e monster, this graceful youth; and as she hung over him, enraptured, she forgot all caution. An inadvertent motion tipped

ed shoulder. “Now trembling now distracted; bold, And now irresolute she seems; The blue lamp glimmers in her hold, And in

s in her hold, And in her hand the dagger gleams. Prepared to strike, she verges near, Then, the blue light glimmering from

remain alone in the palace, but hastened out into the gardens, where she soon lost consciousness of her misery in a deep s

where she soon lost consciousness of her misery in a deep swoon. When she opened her eyes once more, the storm had ceased,

Cupid’s return, and shedding many bitter tears of repentance. Finally she resolved once more to commit suicide, and, with t

syche wandered about disconsolate, seeking Cupid, and questioning all she met, the nymphs, Pan, and Ceres, who compassionat

rning that he was having a wound in his shoulder dressed by Venus: so she advised Psyche to go to the Goddess of Beauty, to

and having succeeded in her endeavour to enter the service of Venus, she laboured early and late to satisfy her exacting m

that the poor girl would never have been able to accomplish them had she not been aided by all the beasts and insects, who

received a small box. The gates of Hades were closed behind her, and she had nearly finished her last task, when she sudde

re closed behind her, and she had nearly finished her last task, when she suddenly fancied that it would be wise to appropr

ngle pearl shell, and drawn by snow-white doves, her favourite birds, she journeyed from shrine to shrine, complacently adm

From some cause Juno’s slumbers were less protracted than usual, and she soon arose from her couch to look about her realm

cloud near the earth, — a cloud which had no business there, for had she not bidden them all lie still on the blue sea unt

here, for had she not bidden them all lie still on the blue sea until she awoke? Her suspicions being aroused by the presen

he awoke? Her suspicions being aroused by the presence of this cloud, she sought her husband in Olympus, and, not finding h

plunged into the sea, since called Ionian. After swimming across it, she took refuge in Egypt, where Jupiter restored her

il the birth of her twin sons Romulus and Remus. Her parents, hearing she had broken her vows, commanded that she should su

d Remus. Her parents, hearing she had broken her vows, commanded that she should suffer the prescribed punishment of being

every proof of his affection, and had even tried to console her when she mourned Jupiter’s neglect. On one occasion, inten

d risked so much and suffered so greatly in taking his mother’s part, she never even made the slightest attempt to ascertai

proudly seated herself upon it, and found herself a prisoner. In vain she strove to escape; in vain the gods all gallantly

; but after a time Vulcan’s gloomy abode lost all its attractions: so she forsook her ill-favoured husband, and went in sea

es, who, however, seems to have also soon wearied of his society, for she deserted him. Vulcan’s children were mostly monst

nlit aspect of the sea. Her name was Amphitrite, or Salacia. At first she was in great awe of her distinguished suitor, and

to admire any of her charms, except the grace and celerity with which she managed to flit, or rather glide, out of his sigh

declare that the quarrel could be settled by Marpessa only, and that she should freely choose the suitor she preferred as

ettled by Marpessa only, and that she should freely choose the suitor she preferred as husband. The maiden glanced at both

al beauty had vanished, and that he would probably cease to love her, she held out her hand to Idas, declaring she preferre

probably cease to love her, she held out her hand to Idas, declaring she preferred to link her fate to that of a mortal, w

eferred to link her fate to that of a mortal, who would grow old when she did, and love her as long as they both lived. Thi

te, By night and day, a wakeful Fury sate, The pale Tisiphone; a robe she wore, With all the pomp of horror, dy’d in gore.”

s frequent absences finally aroused Juno’s suspicions, and, as usual, she spared no pains to discover what powerful charm c

er what powerful charm could draw him from her side. After a few days she knew all, and straightway determined to have her

venge, and punish her fickle spouse. To accomplish this successfully, she assumed the face and form of Beroe, Semele’s old

princess’s apartment quite unsuspected. “Old Beroe’s decrepit shape she wears, Her wrinkled visage, and her hoary hairs;

er wrinkled visage, and her hoary hairs; Whilst in her trembling gait she totters on, And learns to tattle in the nurse’s t

learns to tattle in the nurse’s tone.” Ovid ( Addison’s tr.). There she immediately entered into conversation with her su

said. The false nurse listened with apparent sympathy; but in reality she was furious, and, to put an end to it all, asked

eality she was furious, and, to put an end to it all, asked Semele if she was quite sure he was king of the gods, as he ass

resence he seldom appeared except in godlike array. With artful words she so worked upon the guileless nature of her rival,

r blandishments to extort from him a solemn oath to grant any request she chose to make. A lover is not very likely to weig

s apparition was more than poor Semele’s human nerves could bear, and she dropped to the floor in a swoon at the first glim

been forsaken there by her lover, Theseus, who had sailed away while she slept. As soon as she awoke, she called her faith

y her lover, Theseus, who had sailed away while she slept. As soon as she awoke, she called her faithless lover; but no ans

, Theseus, who had sailed away while she slept. As soon as she awoke, she called her faithless lover; but no answering soun

her ear except the mocking tones of Echo. Her tears flowed freely as she beat her breast in despair; but suddenly her lame

beat her breast in despair; but suddenly her lamentations ceased, as she caught the faint sound of music floating toward h

her on the summer breeze. Eagerly turning toward the pleasant music, she caught sight of a merry procession, headed by the

sickened and died, leaving a disconsolate widower, who took the crown she had so often worn and flung it up into the air. I

ned off to the Island of Sicily, her favourite place of resort, where she wandered about all day long, attended by a merry

her. Straight through the bushes he strode, direct to the spot where she was seated. The noise of crackling branches and h

ng, Drawn by horses black and strong, Such as may belong to Night Ere she takes her morning flight. Now the chariot stops:

s purpose was only momentary, for catching her in his brawny arms ere she could make and attempt to escape, he bore her off

turned her weeping eyes to catch a parting glimpse of the fair earth she was leaving, and then, with a fond thought of her

vening came, would vainly seek her child in all her favourite haunts, she quickly flung her girdle into the Cyane, and call

hither the mother wandered, calling her daughter, and wondering where she could be, and why she did not come bounding to me

ered, calling her daughter, and wondering where she could be, and why she did not come bounding to meet her. As time passed

beat fast with apprehension, and the tears coursed down her cheeks as she rushed about from place to place, calling her dau

about from place to place, calling her daughter. “What ails her that she comes not home?     Demeter seeks her far and wid

ny a morn till eventide. ‘My life, immortal though it be, Is naught!’ she cries, ’for want of thee, Persephone — Persephone

ng.” Orphic Hymn. Ceres and Triptolemus To avoid recognition, she had assumed the appearance of an aged crone; and

recognition, she had assumed the appearance of an aged crone; and as she sat there by the wayside, in tears, she attracted

ance of an aged crone; and as she sat there by the wayside, in tears, she attracted the compassionate inquiries of the daug

Ceres, touched by their ready sympathy, accepted the offer; and when she arrived at the palace, the royal heir was entrust

night, while Ceres sat alone with her charge, it occurred to her that she might confer a still greater blessing upon him, t

ght confer a still greater blessing upon him, that of immortality: so she anointed his limbs with nectar, murmured a powerf

eless nurse; but the aged beggar woman had vanished, and in her stead she confronted the radiant Goddess of Agriculture.  

roof to the queen for her untimely interference, Ceres explained what she fain would have done, and vanished, to continue h

g object at her feet. Stooping hastily to ascertain what it might be, she recognised the girdle her daughter had worn when

hat it might be, she recognised the girdle her daughter had worn when she had parted from her in Sicily. Joyfully she embra

er daughter had worn when she had parted from her in Sicily. Joyfully she embraced the token, and, thinking she must now be

ed from her in Sicily. Joyfully she embraced the token, and, thinking she must now be upon Proserpina’s track, hastened. on

thinking she must now be upon Proserpina’s track, hastened. on until she came to a crystal fountain, by whose side she sat

ack, hastened. on until she came to a crystal fountain, by whose side she sat down to rest. Her eyes were heavy with the co

with the combined effect of tears, fatigue, and oppressive heat, and she was about to lose all consciousness of her troubl

er trouble in sleep, when the murmur of the fountain increased, until she fancied it was talking; not as mortals do, but in

and Alpheus The goddess was not mistaken; for a few minutes later she could distinguish words, and heard the fountain e

d distinguish words, and heard the fountain entreat her to listen, if she would hear what had befallen her child. The fount

ar what had befallen her child. The fountain then went on to tell how she had not always been a mere stream, but was once a

ph, called Arethusa, in Diana’s train, and how, overcome by the heat, she had once sought a cool stream wherein she might b

how, overcome by the heat, she had once sought a cool stream wherein she might bathe her heated limbs. She soon found one,

e bottom was fine and even, and where no mortal eyes could see her as she threw aside her sandals and outer garments. She w

hich crept nearer and nearer to the startled nymph, until in affright she sprang out of the water. Then a voice — the voice

s suit, rose up out of the water and rushed to clasp her in his arms, she turned and fled in great terror. She fled, but he

an, still closely followed by her too ardent lover, until, exhausted, she paused for breath, crying aloud to Diana to come

Diana to come to her rescue. Her prayer was answered. A moment later she was enveloped in a thick mist and transformed int

, until Diana, seeing her new plight, opened a crevice, through which she glided away from the bright sunlight she loved so

ned a crevice, through which she glided away from the bright sunlight she loved so well into the depths of Pluto’s realm. W

the stern-browed Pluto. She could not, however, pause to inquire how she came there, but hurried on breathlessly, until an

Ceres, knowing where to seek her daughter, was about to depart, when she heard the sudden rush and roar of a large body of

glad to see him once more, for Ceres heard her murmur contentedly as she sank into his arms and listened to his louder ton

o find her missing daughter, her grief was not at all diminished, for she felt convinced that Pluto would never willingly r

e, and they prayed and clamoured for her aid; but, absorbed in grief, she paid no heed to their distress, and vowed that no

orld such sorrow dree By reason of Persephone!” Ingelow. As soon as she became aware of this petition, Ceres hastened to

ties, consented to Proserpina’s return, upon condition, however, that she had not touched any food during the whole time of

could not refute the charge, and Jupiter decreed that for every seed she had eaten she should spend one month of every yea

ute the charge, and Jupiter decreed that for every seed she had eaten she should spend one month of every year in her husba

er, and the skies wept and all nature mourned Proserpina’s departure, she again returned to her cave, whence no entreaties

appy-natured Proserpina, the moment Hades’ portals closed behind her, she became pale and melancholy; and none would have d

erywhere, and teach the people how to plough, sow, and reap; and then she instituted the Eleusinia, festivals held in honou

power is told about a lad, Stellio, who made fun of the goddess when she was journeying, on account of the haste with whic

e goddess when she was journeying, on account of the haste with which she disposed of a bowl of gruel offered by some chari

gel of mankind, was worshipped principally throughout Italy, although she also had shrines in Greece and Asia Minor. The fa

ds, so Vesta presided especially over true and faithful dealing”; and she was therefore generally represented as pure and u

ans, Vesta was not the only goddess invoked on the family hearth, for she shared that place of honour with the Lares, Manes

es that this fair maiden talked from morning till night, and told all she knew. Upon one occasion she incurred Jupiter’s wr

ked from morning till night, and told all she knew. Upon one occasion she incurred Jupiter’s wrath by relating to Juno a co

asion she incurred Jupiter’s wrath by relating to Juno a conversation she had overheard between him and one of his numerous

tched the lessening sail until it had quite vanished from sight; then she returned to her palace to pray for her husband’s

or the returning sails of her husband’s vessel; and night after night she lay on her couch, anxiously expecting the morrow,

ter night she lay on her couch, anxiously expecting the morrow, which she ever fancied would prove auspicious. The gods, se

the sea-shore to convince herself that the dream had been false; but she had no sooner reached the beach, than the waves w

lways fled at his approach. But all her fleetness could not save her: she was overtaken, and borne away to the inaccessible

how easily Hercules had escaped from the danger which threatened him, she deemed it useless to make another attempt to take

his enjoying any lasting peace or happiness. To achieve this purpose, she first extorted from Jupiter a decree that condemn

de, and, turning to Arete, declared himself ready to obey any command she might choose to give him.               “Young H

” Darwin. Courageously he then trod along the rough and thorny path she pointed out, and patiently performed the various

horny path she pointed out, and patiently performed the various tasks she assigned him, delivering the oppressed, defending

ho delighted in dress and jewels, and who was never happier than when she obtained some new ornament or article of apparel.

her never entirely forgotten persecutions. In the guise of an Amazon, she mingled among the women, and artfully spread the

apples, which had been given to Juno as a wedding present, and which she had entrusted to the care of the Hesperides. Afte

cure the maiden’s good graces, and when Hercules made known his love, she immediately promised to marry him. if he would on

reasures in its hollow, and was so well pleased with the effect, that she decreed it should henceforth be one of her attrib

carry the fair young bride to the other shore in complete safety, if she would but consent to mount upon his broad back.

isoned arrow, — and keep it carefully, for it had magic power; and if she ever found her husband’s love waning, he assured

she ever found her husband’s love waning, he assured her that, could she but induce him to put it on, all his early affect

he proffered gift, and promised to treasure it up carefully, although she sincerely hoped she would never be called upon to

nd promised to treasure it up carefully, although she sincerely hoped she would never be called upon to make use of it. Yea

mes prolonged, he always returned to her side, as loving as ever, and she had no cause for complaint. Finally duty took him

is first love, and this roused her jealousy, so long dormant. Finally she heard that Hercules was wending his way homeward

when told that he was accompanied by Iole and a numerous train. Then she remembered the long-forgotten gift of the Centaur

membered the long-forgotten gift of the Centaur. With trembling hands she sought the glittering robe, gave it to a messenge

th his child’s blood, or to witness her execution: so he ordered that she should be placed in an empty cask with her helple

rders were speedily executed; and Danae’s heart sank with terror when she felt the cask buffeted about by the great waves f

, and out of all reach of help. Clasping her babe close to her bosom, she fervently prayed the gods to watch over them both

in a land where the sun never shone, was very distasteful to her, so she entreated Minerva to let her go and visit the bea

he beautiful sunny south. But when Minerva refused to grant her wish, she reviled the goddess, and declared that nothing bu

tuous remark so incensed Minerva, that, to punish her for her vanity, she changed her beautiful curling locks into hissing,

omeda. To atone for the vanity of her mother, Cassiopeia, who claimed she was fairer than any of the sea nymphs, she had be

r, Cassiopeia, who claimed she was fairer than any of the sea nymphs, she had been exposed there as prey for a terrible sea

re, hearing that Polydectes had dared to ill-treat his mother because she still refused to accede to his wishes and become

er’s trusty weapon lay; and, conducting him to the spot where it was, she told him the whole story, and bade him try his st

ated by Ægeus’ side, no sooner saw the young stranger draw near, then she knew him, and foresaw that he had come to demand

ims which might interfere with the prospects of her future offspring, she hastily mixed a deadly poison in a cup, which she

r future offspring, she hastily mixed a deadly poison in a cup, which she filled with fragrant wine, and bade Ægeus offer i

Medea quickly mounted her magic dragon car, and fled to Media, whence she never returned. One day, some time after his arri

daughter Ariadne, whose tender heart was filled with compassion when she beheld the frail maidens and gallant youths about

of the darkness, entered the prison where Theseus was confined. There she tremblingly offered him a ball of twine and a sha

apart, and threw herself down upon the ground to rest, where, before she was aware of it, sleep overtook her. Now, althoug

ll but a child, entrusted her to the care of his mother, Æthra, until she attained a suitable age for matrimony. Then, in r

ssful, and Phædra came to Athens; but, young and extremely beautiful, she was not at all delighted with her aged husband, a

. When the unfortunate queen saw the result of her false accusations, she confessed her crime, and, in her remorse and desp

aged woman not far from him, gazing in helpless despair at the waters she could not cross. Naturally kind-hearted and helpf

ld woman his assistance, proposing to carry her across on his back if she would but lend him her staff to lean upon. The ol

. He was about to part from the old dame with a kindly farewell, when she was suddenly transformed into a tall, handsome, i

en. He bent low before her, and claimed her aid and protection, which she graciously promised ere she vanished from his sig

and claimed her aid and protection, which she graciously promised ere she vanished from his sight. With eager steps Jason n

lchian rowers were gaining upon the Greek; and Medea saw that, unless she found means to delay her father, he would overtak

r, he would overtake her and compel her to return. With her own hands she therefore slew her little brother, Absyrtus, and

lew her little brother, Absyrtus, and cut his body into pieces, which she dropped over the side of the vessel one by one. Æ

with jealousy, Medea prepared and sent the maiden a magic robe, which she no sooner donned than she was seized with terribl

red and sent the maiden a magic robe, which she no sooner donned than she was seized with terrible convulsions, in which sh

sooner donned than she was seized with terrible convulsions, in which she died. Medea, still full of resentment against Jas

nting her dragon car, departed, leaving a message for Jason, in which she warned him that the Argo would yet cause his deat

her brothers’ corpses, and heard that they had been slain by her son, she vowed to avenge their death, drew the carefully c

urned when his lifeless corpse was brought to her, and in her despair she committed suicide. Atalanta’s Race Meanwhil

returned to her father’s court, where no other heir having appeared, she was joyfully received, and entreated to marry. Ma

roving of marriage, and anxious to keep her freedom, had decreed that she should marry only the suitor who could beat her i

ee golden apples. Atalanta, as usual, passed her rival easily; but as she did so he cast one of the golden apples at her fe

she did so he cast one of the golden apples at her feet. For a moment she paused, then stopped and picked it up ere she res

her feet. For a moment she paused, then stopped and picked it up ere she resumed the race. The delay, short as it was, had

The delay, short as it was, had given her adversary an advantage; but she soon overtook him, whereupon a second golden appl

elf with one of her ornaments.         “He pluck’d from off the robe she wore A golden buckle that adorn’d her side, And b

ed by her unhappy father, slowly wended her way back to Thebes, where she found that the plague had ceased, but that her br

overed her, and dragged her into the presence of Creon, who, although she was a relative and the promised wife of his son H

eave her there alone, to live, or die; Her blood rests not on us: but she no longer Shall breathe on earth.” Sophocles ( F

erings were cut mercifully short by asphyxiation; and, when Hæmon saw she was no more, he, in utter despair, thrust his dag

d although her husband, Prœtus, treated her with the utmost kindness, she made up her mind to desert him, and tried to indu

for, when Anteia saw that the youth would never yield to her wishes, she became very angry indeed, sought her husband, and

had no sooner apprised her of the difficult task appointed him, than she promised him her aid, and before she vanished gav

fficult task appointed him, than she promised him her aid, and before she vanished gave him a beautiful golden bridle, whic

id, and before she vanished gave him a beautiful golden bridle, which she bade him use to control Pegasus. Bridle in hand,

clever that all who knew her loved her dearly. Of course, as soon as she was old enough to think of marriage, a host of su

ummit fragrant myrtles crown’d. Those shades, unknowing of the Fates, she sought, And to the Naiads flowery garlands brough

Naiads flowery garlands brought; Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she press’d Between her arms.” Ovid ( Pope’s tr.).

One day, while wandering there as usual, accompanied by her sister, she saw a lotus blossom, and pointed it out to her li

mother plucked it and gave it to him. She had scarcely done so, when she noticed drops of blood trickling from the broken

she noticed drops of blood trickling from the broken stem; and while she stood there, speechless with wonder, a voice was

tis the nymph (if rural tales be true), As from Priapus’ lawless love she flew, Forsook her form; and fixing here became A

pitiful cry of compassion on her pale lips, but, to her astonishment, she could not leave the spot: her feet seemed rooted

r frantic attempts to tear it away from her shapely limbs. In despair she raised her trembling hands and arms to heaven to

h bade Rhœcus name his reward, whereupon he asked for her love, which she consented to bestow, provided he would remain con

med Penelope; and we are told that, when his mother first beheld him, she was aghast, for he was the most homely as well as

was the most homely as well as the most extraordinary little creature she had ever seen. His body was all covered with goat

e nymphs, Syrinx whom he immediately loved; but unfortunately for him she , frightened at his appearance, fled. Exasperated

voidance of him, Pan once pursued and was about to overtake her, when she paused, and implored Gæa to protect her. The pray

and implored Gæa to protect her. The prayer was scarcely ended, when she found herself changed into a clump of reeds, whic

namoured of her charms, did his best to make her change her mind, but she would not even listen to his pleadings. At last t

ealed himself, and clasped her to his breast. Pomona, perceiving that she had hopelessly betrayed herself, no longer refuse

he harmony which evidently reigned among all the guests. For a moment she stood beside the bountiful board, then threw upon

a golden apple, and, exhaling over the assembly her poisoned breath, she vanished. The general attention was, of course, t

aign clothed with corn, Or labour’d mine undrainable of ore. ‘Honour’ she said, ‘and homage, tax and toll, From many an inl

hair.” Cowper. Then, trembling lest her efforts should prove vain, she gently drew near the youth, and softly promised h

o her other brothers; and then, breaking out into a prophetic strain, she foretold that he would bring destruction upon his

the rejected suitors might attempt to steal her away from any husband she selected, proposed that all the candidates for he

is absence, Paris, urged by Venus, courted Helen so successfully that she finally consented to elope with him, and allowed

Thetis loved this only child so dearly, that when he was but a babe, she had carried him to the banks of the Styx, whose w

t her son would be a great warrior, and thus exposed to great danger, she plunged him wholly into the tide with the excepti

ged him wholly into the tide with the exception of one heel, by which she held him, and then returned home. Some time after

ore his departure.      “I wrote, I seal’d A letter to my wife, that she should send Her daughter, to Achilles as a bride

ride of such a hero; but, instead of being led to the hymeneal altar, she was dragged to the place of sacrifice, where the

duly sacrificed, while Iphigenia was borne in safety to Taurus, where she became a priestess in one of the goddess’s temple

left in Thessaly, her heart was well-nigh broken; and in her despair she entreated the gods to let her die, or allow her t

A knot of spiry trees for ages grew From out the tomb of him for whom she died; And ever, when such stature they had gained

etic ear Achilles poured the whole story of his grief and loss, while she gently strove to turn his thoughts aside from the

med; but his mother prevailed upon him to wait until the morrow, when she promised to bring him a full suit of armour from

and Plying the bellows.” Homer ( Bryant’s tr.). Arrived before him, she breathlessly made known her errand, and the god p

consigned them to Thetis, who hastened back to her son’s tent, where she found him still bewailing the loss of Patroclus.

Achilles for his friend’s death, Thetis exhibited the glorious armour she had just obtained, helped him to put it on, and t

id. The brave queen afforded them, however, only temporary relief, as she was slain by Achilles in their very first encount

d for her should he ever be wounded. He therefore sent for Œnone; but she , justly offended by the base desertion and long n

is decision; and when the flames of his funeral pyre rose around him, she rushed into their midst, and was burned to death

d into their midst, and was burned to death on his corpse. “But when she gain’d the broader vale and saw The ring of faces

verence. Then moving quickly forward till the heat Smote on her brow, she lifted up a voice Of shrill command, ‘Who burns u

of widowhood, And muffling up her comely head, and crying ‘Husband!’ she leapt upon the funeral pile, And mixt herself wit

had elapsed since it occurred; and when Orestes had attained manhood, she bade him come and punish those who had committed

ns, and strolled on the shore only when he was sound asleep. Although she made fun of his ’ove, she was not so obdurate to

ore only when he was sound asleep. Although she made fun of his ’ove, she was not so obdurate to the suit of Acis, a very f

scinating young shepherd, who had no need to call her repeatedly, for she always yielded to his first appeal, joyfully join

f Circe. From afar they could hear her sweet voice raised in song, as she wove a beautiful web for her own adornment; so th

any days, and Circe watched them with ill-concealed disgust. Suddenly she started from her seat, waved her wand over their

mixture was rendered ineffective by the power of the herb, and, when she waved her wand over his head and bade him join hi

e drew his sword and rushed upon her, threatening to take her life if she did not immediately restore his friends to their

t, seeing that her efforts to detain him longer would be of no avail, she bade him seek the Cimmerian shores, and there con

ittle longer to allow his mother to drink some blood, and explain how she came to be here in the spirit land. Many others c

der a rock crowned with a single wild fig-tree; and three times daily she engulfed the surrounding waters, drawing even lar

s, drawing even large galleys into her capacious jaws. As for Scylla, she too dwelt in a cave, whence her six ugly heads pr

mariner can boast That he has passed by Scylla with a crew Unharmed; she snatches from the deck, and bears Away in each gr

ival, and, instead of a love potion, prepared a loathsome drug, which she bade him pour into the water where Scylla was won

o the water where Scylla was wont to bathe. Glaucus faithfully did as she commanded; but when Scylla plunged into the water

plunged into the water, her body, and not her feelings, changed, and she became a loathsome monster, a terror to gods and

e, Ulysses, clad in armour, stood on the prow to attack Scylla should she attempt to seize one of his crew. The sound of th

ting and revelling in his palace, whence they refused to depart until she had made choice of a second husband; and also tha

erce his disguise, and languidly continued a piece of work with which she was endeavouring to baffle her suitors; for, when

she was endeavouring to baffle her suitors; for, when urged to marry, she had replied that she would do so as soon as she h

to baffle her suitors; for, when urged to marry, she had replied that she would do so as soon as she had finished the tapes

when urged to marry, she had replied that she would do so as soon as she had finished the tapestry upon which she was at w

t she would do so as soon as she had finished the tapestry upon which she was at work. As she was a diligent worker, the su

soon as she had finished the tapestry upon which she was at work. As she was a diligent worker, the suitors expected soon

, the suitors expected soon to hear her decision, little knowing that she undid at night the web so carefully woven during

te Penelope was forced to finish her work; but ere it was quite done, she found another expedient to postpone her choice of

her choice of a husband. She brought Ulysses’ bow, and announced that she would marry the man who could bend it and send an

he man who could bend it and send an arrow through twelve rings which she pointed out.                             “‘I bri

Penelope, unconscious of all this bloodshed, slept in her room, until she was gently awakened by Euryclea with the announce

identity, by telling her a secret which was shared by her alone, that she received him. Ulysses’ Last Journey Ulysses

fly to arms. Further to convince him of the truth of her assertions, she enabled him to see what was hidden from mortal ey

no, in the meanwhile, had not been idle, and gloated over the dangers she had forced the unhappy Trojans to encounter durin

y. She was not yet weary of persecuting them, however; and as soon as she saw them once more afloat, she hurried off to Æol

secuting them, however; and as soon as she saw them once more afloat, she hurried off to Æolus, and bade him let loose his

us, which bade her fly with his treasures, whose place of concealment she alone knew. Dido obeyed the ghost’s commands, and

d by a number of faithful subjects, landed on the Libyan coast, where she entreated the inhabitants to sell her as much lan

of their renowned chief, whose fame had already reached her ear; and she gladly promised to send out a search party to dis

parations for departure a complete secret, and finally set sail while she was wrapt in slumber. When she awoke and looked o

ete secret, and finally set sail while she was wrapt in slumber. When she awoke and looked out of her palace window, it was

nk beneath the horizon. Concealing her grief, and pretending an anger she did not feel, she bade her servants make a funera

izon. Concealing her grief, and pretending an anger she did not feel, she bade her servants make a funeral pyre, and place

ace; then, having crowned the pile with an effigy of her false lover, she set fire to the pyre, 330 sprang into the midst o

neas again dutifully obeyed; but when Venus saw him afloat once more, she hastened to Neptune, and bade him watch over her

race, and afraid lest her enemy’s course should now prove too smooth, she sent Alecto, the Fury, down upon earth to stir up

. The Fury executed both commands, and Amata fled to the woods, where she concealed her daughter Lavinia, to keep her safe

she concealed her daughter Lavinia, to keep her safe for Turnus, whom she preferred to Æneas. War with the Latins As

ar, he hurled her to the opposite bank, which, thanks to Diana’s aid, she reached unharmed, while her father plunged into t

etermined to lure her favourite away from the field. To compass this, she assumed the form of Æneas, challenged Turnus, and

k refuge on one of the vessels, closely pursued by him. No sooner did she see the Rutulian chief safe on board, than she lo

by him. No sooner did she see the Rutulian chief safe on board, than she loosed the vessel from its moorings, and allowed

highly-coloured tale of a pony. Forced to pause from lack of breath, she resumed the thread of her narrative with the word

his dog”; and, when it was suggested that the story was about a pony, she emphatically replied, “Well, this pony was a dog,

lied, “Well, this pony was a dog,” and continued. Now, either because she perceived that the transformation had attracted a

ies it is unlawful for the husband to see his wife’s face until after she has given birth to her first child, and in others

rn in Phœnicia (the “purple land of morn”), the child of Telephassa (“ she who shines from afar”), carried away from her eas

ring spear unwittingly causes the death of his beloved Procris “while she lingers in a thicket (a place where the dew’ ling

born in Argos (brightness). Loved by Jupiter, the all-embracing sky, she gives birth to the golden-haired Perseus, a perso

ndensation of vapour, falls from her exalted seat into the sea, where she is lost. The ship Argo “is a symbol of the earth

of her and her treasures, he is finally forced to relinquish her, and she returns to her husband and her allegiance. The si

bright and unerring arrows, and in the course of her nightly journey she looked lovingly down upon the sleeping face of th

nd more particularly of “the maiden” Cora (or Proserpina), whose loss she grievously mourned; for she had been carried away

maiden” Cora (or Proserpina), whose loss she grievously mourned; for she had been carried away by Pluto to the underworld,

ned; for she had been carried away by Pluto to the underworld, whence she could only emerge at the command of Jupiter. Duri

thlessly slain. Niobe grieves so sorely at their untimely death, that she dissolves in a rain of tears, which turns into ha

into hard ice on the mountain summit. According to other authorities, she was a personification of winter, and her tears re

d, her name having retained its primitive meaning to a great extent, “ she continued to the end, as she had been from the be

ts primitive meaning to a great extent, “she continued to the end, as she had been from the beginning, the household altar,

the nine Muses, presided over history, 69 Clo′tho. One of the Fates; she spins the thread of life, 141 Clym′e-ne. 1. Wife

al Regions, 130, 332 Dis-cor′di-a, or Eris. Goddess of discord, 116; she appears at Peleus’ marriage feast, 272 Do-do′na.

d of Althæa, 201, 241 Œ-no′ne. Wife of Paris, son of Priam, 273, 275; she dies on his funeral pyre, 295; significance, 358

in honour of Minerva, 43 Pan-do′ra. First woman; created in heaven, she brings evil into the world, 18-22, 24 Par′cæ. Th

, accompanying him in the chase, not perhaps without a holy fear lest she should become visible to him, and the fate of Act

na, armed with her bow and quiver, and more nimble than the stag that she pursues, who takes the diversion of the chase. Th

even the breast of a goddess; and when delivered of Jupiter and Juno, she placed a stone instead of the newly-born, in the

not devour Jupiter, as he represents the celestial regions, nor Juno, she being the prototype of the air: Time, mighty and

e daughter of Uranus, being the sister and wife of Saturn. As soon as she was born, she was exposed on a mountain, but bein

Uranus, being the sister and wife of Saturn. As soon as she was born, she was exposed on a mountain, but being preserved an