Heathen mythology Part 43

This apple was the origin of the Trojan war, and of innumerable misfortunes to the Greeks.

The G.o.ddess is represented with a pale and ghastly look, her garments torn, her eyes sparkling with fire, holding a dagger concealed in her bosom. Her head is generally enwreathed with serpents, and she is imagined to be the cause of all the miseries, dissensions, and quarrels, which fall upon the inhabitants of the earth. {253}

We have now enumerated the most remarkable of the Allegorical Divinities, the number being too great to mention all. For the same reason we must omit the crowd of Emperors, Kings, and Princes, who, having the folly to believe themselves G.o.ds, found mortals sufficiently weak to grant them faith, and to accord them homage.

In concluding the Greek Mythology, however, we must mention several fables, which are so intimately connected therewith, as almost to form part of its history.

PHILEMON AND BAUCIS.

Philemon and Baucis were an aged couple, of Phrygia, who, unblessed by the goods of fortune, found in their mutual and deep affection, a happiness, which nothing could overwhelm.

----------------------"There Had lived long married and a happy pair Now old in love, tho' little was their store, Inured to want, their poverty they bore, Nor aimed at wealth, professing to be poor."

As they were sitting together, enjoying the sweets of mutual affection, two travellers, with a melancholy and impoverished appearance, after having asked hospitality, and been refused by the inhabitants of the village, sought refuge under their humble roof. Unaccustomed to visitors, they were, however, received by them with kindness, and invited to partake of a modest repast.

As they sate in kind communion, the forms of those whom they entertained suddenly changed, and they beheld Jupiter and Mercury in the place of the miserable beings they had received; the ancient couple throwing themselves on their knees, offered to their guests the deep homage of their hearts.

The G.o.ds were pleased with their entertainment; but could not forget the inhospitality with which they had been received by their countrymen, and let loose the waves, and sent the thunderbolt to consume the town and its inhabitants. Philemon and Baucis, were, however, saved, and a superb temple replaced their lowly dwelling, of which they were made the priests.

They lived long and happily, and having entreated Jupiter that neither might outlive the other, they both died on the same day, and their bodies were changed into trees, and placed before the {254} door of the Temple which had arisen on the ruins of their lowly cottage.

"Lost in a lake the floated level lies; A watery desert covers all the plains, Their cot alone, as on an isle, remains Wond'ring with weeping eyes, while they deplore Their neighbours' fate, and country now no more, Their little shed, scarce large enough for two, Seems, from the ground, in height and bulk to grow A stately temple shoots within the skies, The crotchets of their cot in columns rise, The pavement polished marble they behold, The gates with sculpture graced, the spires and roof of gold!"

OVID.

PYRAMUS AND THISBE.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Pyramus and Thisbe were two young Thebans, who, being greatly enamoured of one another, had their union opposed by their friends, between the families of whom there had been a variance for many years.

"But to prevent their wandering in the dark, They both agree to fix upon a mark; A mark that could not their designs expose: The tomb of Venus was the mark they chose; There they might rest secure beneath the shade, Which boughs, with snowy fruit enc.u.mbered, made.

A wide spread mulberry tree its rise had took Just in the margin of a gurgling brook."

OVID.

They determined, however, if possible, to elude the vigilance of their persecutors, and agreed to meet outside the walls of the city, under the mulberry tree which grew there, and then to celebrate {255} their union.

Thisbe was the first who arrived at the place appointed, when the sudden arrival of a lioness so frightened her, that she fled away, dropping her veil in her flight. This the lioness smeared with blood, and then disappeared, leaving it under the trysting tree.

In a short time Pyramus arrived, but found that she, for whom he looked, was absent: the b.l.o.o.d.y veil alone met his anxious gaze, which he instantly recognized, and concluded that she had been torn to pieces by wild beasts.

In his despair he drew his sword and killed himself.

When the fears of Thisbe were pa.s.sed away, she returned to the mulberry tree, but found only the lifeless remains of her lover. In the agony which overcame her, she fell upon the weapon with which Pyramus had destroyed himself, and joined him in his endless rest.

"But when her view the bleeding love confessed, She shrieked, she tore her hair, she beat her breast, She raised the body, and embraced it round, And bathed with tears unfeigned, the gaping wound, Then her warm lips to the cold face applied-- 'And is it thus, ah! thus we meet,' she cried My Pyramus, whence sprang thy cruel fate?

My Pyramus; ah! speak, ere 'tis too late: I, thy own Thisbe; but one word implore, One word thy Thisbe never asked before!

Fate, though it conquers, shall no triumph gain, Fate, that divides us, still divides in vain.

Now, both our cruel parents, hear my prayer, My prayer to offer for us both I dare, O see our ashes in one urn confined, Whom love at first, and fate at last, has joined.

Thou tree, where now one lifeless lump is laid, Ere long o'er two shall cast a friendly shade, Still let our loves from thee be understood, Still witness, in thy purple fruit our blood-- She spoke, and in her bosom plunged the sword All warm, and reeking from its slaughtered Lord."

OVID.

ACIS AND GALATEA.

Polyphemus, the most dreadful and hideous of the Cyclops, loved Galatea, one of the beautiful race of the sea-nymphs. Day by day, did the giant sit by the side of a fountain, neglecting his flocks, and murmuring love songs the most touching and impa.s.sioned; while he adorned his person and endeavoured to render himself as agreeable, by these and other means, to his nymph as possible. {256}

Galatea treated all his attentions with disrespect, and bestowed her affections upon Acis; meeting him in secret in a grotto, there enjoying the sweet society of one another, unsuspicious of the danger which threatened them.

------------------"Acis knelt At Galatea's feet. She gazed awhile, One delicate hand was pressed against her cheek, That flushed with pleasure, and her dark hair streamed Shadowing the brightness of her fixed eye, Which on the young Sicilian shepherd's face Shone like a star-- 'Twas strange that she, a high sea-nymph should leave, Her watery palaces, and coral caves, Her home, and all immortal company, To dwell with him, a simple shepherd boy."

BARRY CORNWALL.

Polyphemus, however, discovered their retreat, and with it, the cause of all the scorn and indifference, with which he had been treated.

----------------"At once he saw His rival, and the nymph he loved so well, Twined in each other's arms. 'Away,' he cried, 'Away thou wanton nymph, and thou, my slave.

Earth born and base, thou--thou whom I could shake To atoms, as the tempest scatters abroad The sea-sand tow'rd the skies, away, away!'"

Acis came forth from his retreat, and Polyphemus threw an enormous rock upon him, which crushed him beneath its weight.

----------------"The shepherd boy, He felt the Cyclop's wrath, for on his head The mighty weight descended: not a limb, Or bone, or fragment, or a glossy hair, Remained of all his beauty."

Galatea was in despair, and as she could not restore him to life, she changed him into a river, on the banks of which, she could still sport at even time, and sing to her beautiful, but lost love.

--------------------"She changed, As Grecian fables say, the shepherd boy Into a stream, and on its banks would lie, And utter her laments in such a tone, As might have moved the rocks, and then would call Upon the murdered Acis. He the while Ran to the sea, but oft on summer nights Noises were heard, and plaintive music like, The songs you hear in Sicily--shepherd swains For many an age would lie by that lone stream, And from its watery melodies catch an air, And tune it to their simple instruments."

BARRY CORNWALL.

{257}

HERO AND LEANDER.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Hero was a priestess of Venus, at Sestos, whom Leander met during one of the festivals held annually at the fane of the G.o.ddess, in honour of Adonis.

"As thro' the temple pa.s.sed the Sestian maid, Her face a softened dignity displayed; And as she shone superior to the rest, In the sweet bloom of youth and beauty dress'd, Such softness, tempered with majestic mien, The earthly priestess matched the heavenly queen."

The appearance of Hero inflamed the bosom of Leander, nor was he long in expressing his love to the beautiful being who had won it. In the very temple of the G.o.ddess, whose priestess she was, and while warmed with the rites at which she had been a.s.sisting, Leander avowed his pa.s.sion.