{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_The_Age_of_Fable_Chapter_VII/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_The_Age_of_Fable_Chapter_VII","id":"wikisource_The_Age_of_Fable_Chapter_VII","license":"Public Domain / CC-BY-SA (see source)","rights_basis":"wikisource_site_inclusion_policy","source":"wikisource","source_url":"https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Age_of_Fable/Chapter_VII","summary":null,"tags":["Headers_applying_DefaultSort_key","Subpages"],"text":"PROSERPINE \u2014 GLAUCUS AND SCYLLA\n\nWhen Jupiter and his brothers had defeated the Titans and banished\nthem to Tartarus, a new enemy rose up against the gods. They were\nthe giants Typhon, Briareus, Enceladus, and others. Some of them\nhad a hundred arms, others breathed out fire. They were finally\nsubdued and buried alive under Mount Aetna, where they still\nsometimes struggle to get loose, and shake the whole island with\nearthquakes. Their breath comes up through the mountain, and is\nwhat men call the eruption of the volcano.\n\nThe fall of these monsters shook the earth, so that Pluto was\nalarmed, and feared that his kingdom would be laid open to the\nlight of day. Under this apprehension, he mounted his chariot,\ndrawn by black horses, and took a circuit of inspection to satisfy\nhimself of the extent of the damage. While he was thus engaged,\nVenus, who was sitting on Mount Eryx playing with her boy Cupid,\nespied him, and said, \"My son, take your darts with which you\nconquer all, even Jove himself, and send one into the breast of\nyonder dark monarch, who rules the realm of Tartarus. Why should\nhe alone escape? Seize the opportunity to extend your empire and\nmine. Do you not see that even in heaven some despise our power?\nMinerva the wise, and Diana the huntress, defy us; and there is\nthat daughter of Ceres, who threatens to follow their example. Now\ndo you, if you have any regard for your own interest or mine, join\nthese two in one.\" The boy unbound his quiver, and selected his\nsharpest and truest arrow; then straining the bow against his\nknee, he attached the string, and, having made ready, shot the\narrow with its barbed point right into the heart of Pluto.\n\nIn the vale of Enna there is a lake embowered in woods, which\nscreen it from the fervid rays of the sun, while the moist ground\nis covered with flowers, and Spring reigns perpetual. Here\nProserpine was playing with her companions, gathering lilies and\nviolets, and filling her basket and her apron with them, when\nPluto saw her, loved her, and carried her off. She screamed for\nhelp to her mother and companions; and when in her fright she\ndropped the corners of her apron and let the flowers fall,\nchildlike she felt the loss of them as an addition to her grief.\nThe ravisher urged on his steeds, calling them each by name, and\nthrowing loose over their heads and necks his iron-colored reins.\nWhen he reached the River Cyane, and it opposed his passage, he\nstruck the river-bank with his trident, and the earth opened and\ngave him a passage to Tartarus.\n\nCeres sought her daughter all the world over. Bright-haired\nAurora, when she came forth in the morning, and Hesperus when he\nled out the stars in the evening, found her still busy in the\nsearch. But it was all unavailing. At length, weary and sad, she\nsat down upon a stone, and continued sitting nine days and nights,\nin the open air, under the sunlight and moonlight and falling\nshowers. It was where now stands the city of Eleusis, then the\nhome of an old man named Celeus. He was out in the field,\ngathering acorns and blackberries, and sticks for his fire. His\nlittle girl was driving home their two goats, and as she passed\nthe goddess, who appeared in the guise of an old woman, she said\nto her, \"Mother,\"\u2014and the name was sweet to the ears of Ceres,\u2014\"why do you sit here alone upon the rocks?\" The old man also\nstopped, though his load was heavy, and begged her to come into\nhis cottage, such as it was. She declined, and he urged her. \"Go\nin peace,\" she replied, \"and be happy in your daughter; I have\nlost mine.\" As she spoke, tears\u2014or something like tears, for the\ngods never weep\u2014fell down her cheeks upon her bosom. The\ncompassionate old man and his child wept with her. Then said he,\n\"Come with us, and despise not our humble roof; so may your\ndaughter be restored to you in safety.\" \"Lead on,\" said she, \"I\ncannot resist that appeal!\" So she rose from the stone and went\nwith them. As they walked he told her that his only son, a little\nboy, lay very sick, feverish, and sleepless. She stooped and\ngathered some poppies. As they entered the cottage, they found all\nin great distress, for the boy seemed past hope of recovery.\nMetanira, his mother, received her kindly, and the goddess stooped\nand kissed the lips of the sick child. Instantly the paleness left\nhis face, and healthy vigor returned to his body. The whole family\nwere delighted\u2014that is, the father, mother, and little girl, for\nthey were all; they had no servants. They spread the table, and\nput upon it curds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb. While\nthey ate, Ceres mingled poppy juice in the milk of the boy. When\nnight came and all was still, she arose, and taking the sleeping\nboy, moulded his limbs with her hands, and uttered over him three\ntimes a solemn charm, then went and laid him in the ashes. His\nmother, who had been watching what her guest was doing, sprang\nforward with a cry and snatched the child from the fire. Then\nCeres assumed her own form, and a divine splendor shone all\naround. While they were overcome with astonishment, she said,\n\"Mother, you have been cruel in your fondness to your son. I would\nhave made him immortal, but you have frustrated my attempt.\nNevertheless, he shall be great and useful. He shall teach men the\nuse of the plough, and the rewards which labor can win from the\ncultivated soil.\" So saying, she wrapped a cloud about her, and\nmounting her chariot rode away.\n\nCeres continued her search for her daughter, passing from land to\nland, and across seas and rivers, till at length she returned to\nSicily, whence she at first set out, and stood by the banks of the\nRiver Cyane, where Pluto made himself a passage with his prize to\nhis own dominions. The river nymph would have told the goddess all\nshe had witnessed, but dared not, for fear of Pluto; so she only\nventured to take up the girdle which Proserpine had dropped in her\nflight, and waft it to the feet of the mother. Ceres, seeing this,\nwas no longer in doubt of her loss, but she did not yet know the\ncause, and laid the blame on the innocent land. \"Ungrateful soil,\"\nsaid she, \"which I have endowed with fertility and clothed with\nherbage and nourishing grain, no more shall you enjoy my favors.\"\nThen the cattle died, the plough broke in the furrow, the seed\nfailed to come up; there was too much sun, there was too much\nrain; the birds stole the seeds\u2014thistles and brambles were the\nonly growth. Seeing this, the fountain Arethusa interceded for the\nland. \"Goddess,\" said she, \"blame not the land; it opened\nunwillingly to yield a passage to your daughter. I can tell you of\nher fate, for I have seen her. This is not my native country; I\ncame hither from Elis. I was a woodland nymph, and delighted in\nthe chase. They praised my beauty, but I cared nothing for it, and\nrather boasted of my hunting exploits. One day I was returning\nfrom the wood, heated with exercise, when I came to a stream\nsilently flowing, so clear that you might count the pebbles on the\nbottom. The willows shaded it, and the grassy bank sloped down to\nthe water's edge. I approached, I touched the water with my foot.\nI stepped in knee-deep, and not content with that, I laid my\ngarments on the willows and went in. While I sported in the water,\nI heard an indistinct murmur coming up as out of the depths of the\nstream: and made haste to escape to the nearest bank. The voice\nsaid, 'Why do you fly, Arethusa? I am Alpheus, the god of this\nstream.' I ran, he pursued; he was not more swift than I, but he\nwas stronger, and gained upon me, as my strength failed. At last,\nexhausted, I cried for help to Diana. 'Help me, goddess! help your\nvotary!' The goddess heard, and wrapped me suddenly in a thick\ncloud. The river god looked now this way and now that, and twice\ncame close to me, but could not find me. 'Arethusa! Arethusa!' he\ncried. Oh, how I trembled,\u2014like a lamb that hears the wolf\ngrowling outside the fold. A cold sweat came over me, my hair\nflowed down in streams; where my foot stood there was a pool. In\nshort, in less time than it takes to tell it I became a fountain.\nBut in this form Alpheus knew me and attempted to mingle his\nstream with mine. Diana cleft the ground, and I, endeavoring to\nescape him, plunged into the cavern, and through the bowels of the\nearth came out here in Sicily. While I passed through the lower\nparts of the earth, I saw your Proserpine. She was sad, but no\nlonger showing alarm in her countenance. Her look was such as\nbecame a queen\u2014the queen of Erebus; the powerful bride of the\nmonarch of the realms of the dead.\"\n\nWhen Ceres heard this, she stood for a while like one stupefied;\nthen turned her chariot towards heaven, and hastened to present\nherself before the throne of Jove. She told the story of her\nbereavement, and implored Jupiter to interfere to procure the\nrestitution of her daughter. Jupiter consented on one condition,\nnamely, that Proserpine should not during her stay in the lower\nworld have taken any food; otherwise, the Fates forbade her\nrelease. Accordingly, Mercury was sent, accompanied by Spring, to\ndemand Proserpine of Pluto. The wily monarch consented; but, alas!\nthe maiden had taken a pomegranate which Pluto offered her, and\nhad sucked the sweet pulp from a few of the seeds. This was enough\nto prevent her complete release; but a compromise was made, by\nwhich she was to pass half the time with her mother, and the rest\nwith her husband Pluto.\n\nCeres allowed herself to be pacified with this arrangement, and\nrestored the earth to her favor. Now she remembered Celeus and his\nfamily, and her promise to his infant son Triptolemus. When the\nboy grew up, she taught him the use of the plough, and how to sow\nthe seed. She took him in her chariot, drawn by winged dragons,\nthrough all the countries of the earth, imparting to mankind\nvaluable grains, and the knowledge of agriculture. After his\nreturn, Triptolemus built a magnificent temple to Ceres in\nEleusis, and established the worship of the goddess, under the\nname of the Eleusinian mysteries, which, in the splendor and\nsolemnity of their observance, surpassed all other religious\ncelebrations among the Greeks.\n\n\u00a0\n\nThere can be little doubt of this story of Ceres and Proserpine\nbeing an allegory. Proserpine signifies the seed-corn which when\ncast into the ground lies there concealed\u2014that is, she is carried\noff by the god of the underworld. It reappears\u2014that is,\nProserpine is restored to her mother. Spring leads her back to the\nlight of day.\n\nMilton alludes to the story of Proserpine in \"Paradise Lost,\" Book IV.:\n\n\". . . Not that fair field\n\nOf Enna where Proserpine gathering flowers,\n\nHerself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis\n\nWas gathered, which cost Ceres all that pain\n\nTo seek her through the world,\u2014\n\n... might with this Paradise\n\nOf Eden strive.\"\n\nHood, in his \"Ode to Melancholy,\" uses the same allusion very\nbeautifully:\n\n\"Forgive, if somewhile I forget,\n\nIn woe to come the present bliss;\n\nAs frighted Proserpine let fall\n\n\"Her flowers at the sight of Dis.\"\n\nThe River Alpheus does in fact disappear underground, in part of\nits course, finding its way through subterranean channels till it\nagain appears on the surface. It was said that the Sicilian\nfountain Arethusa was the same stream, which, after passing under\nthe sea, came up again in Sicily. Hence the story ran that a cup\nthrown into the Alpheus appeared again in Arethusa. It is this\nfable of the underground course of Alpheus that Coleridge alludes\nto in his poem of \"Kubla Khan\":\n\n\"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan\n\nA stately pleasure-dome decree,\n\nWhere Alph, the sacred river, ran\n\nThrough caverns measureless to man,\n\nDown to a sunless sea.\"\n\nIn one of Moore's juvenile poems he thus alludes to the same\nstory, and to the practice of throwing garlands or other light\nobjects on his stream to be carried downward by it, and afterwards\nreproduced at its emerging:\n\n\"O my beloved, how divinely sweet\n\nIs the pure joy when kindred spirits meet!\n\nLike him the river god, whose waters flow,\n\nWith love their only light, through caves below,\n\nWafting in triumph all the flowery braids\n\nAnd festal rings, with which Olympic maids\n\nHave decked his current, as an offering meet\n\nTo lay at Arethusa's shining feet.\n\nThink, when he meets at last his fountain bride,\n\nWhat perfect love must thrill the blended tide!\n\nEach lost in each, till mingling into one,\n\nTheir lot the same for shadow or for sun,\n\nA type of true love, to the deep they run.\"\n\nThe following extract from Moore's \"Rhymes on the Road\" gives an\naccount of a celebrated picture by Albano, at Milan, called a\nDance of Loves:\n\n\"'Tis for the theft ef Enna's flower from earth\n\nThese urchins celebrate their dance of mirth,\n\nRound the green tree, like fays upon a heath;\u2014\n\nThose that are nearest linked in order bright,\n\nCheek after cheek, like rosebuds in a wreath;\n\nAnd those more distant showing from beneath\n\nThe others' wings their little eyes of light.\n\nWhile see! among the clouds, their eldest brother,\n\nBut just flown up, tells with a smile of bliss,\n\nThis prank of Pluto to his charmed mother,\n\nWho turns to greet the tidings with a kiss.\"\n\nGLAUCUS AND SCYLLA\n\nGlaucus was a fisherman. One day he had drawn his nets to land,\nand had taken a great many fishes of various kinds. So he emptied\nhis net, and proceeded to sort the fishes on the grass. The place\nwhere he stood was a beautiful island in the river, a solitary\nspot, uninhabited, and not used for pasturage of cattle, nor ever\nvisited by any but himself. On a sudden, the fishes, which had\nbeen laid on the grass, began to revive and move their fins as if\nthey were in the water; and while he looked on astonished, they\none and all moved off to the water, plunged in, and swam away. He\ndid not know what to make of this, whether some god had done it or\nsome secret power in the herbage. \"What herb has such a power?\" he\nexclaimed; and gathering some of it, he tasted it. Scarce had the\njuices of the plant reached his palate when he found himself\nagitated with a longing desire for the water. He could no longer\nrestrain himself, but bidding farewell to earth, he plunged into\nthe stream. The gods of the water received him graciously, and\nadmitted him to the honor of their society. They obtained the\nconsent of Oceanus and Tethys, the sovereigns of the sea, that all\nthat was mortal in him should be washed away. A hundred rivers\npoured their waters over him. Then he lost all sense of his former\nnature and all consciousness. When he recovered, he found himself\nchanged in form and mind. His hair was sea-green, and trailed\nbehind him on the water; his shoulders grew broad, and what had\nbeen thighs and legs assumed the form of a fish's tail. The sea-gods complimented him on the change of his appearance, and he\nfancied himself rather a good-looking personage.\n\nOne day Glaucus saw the beautiful maiden Scylla, the favorite of\nthe water-nymphs, rambling on the shore, and when she had found a\nsheltered nook, laving her limbs in the clear water. He fell in\nlove with her, and showing himself on the surface, spoke to her,\nsaying such things as he thought most likely to win her to stay;\nfor she turned to run immediately on the sight of him, and ran\ntill she had gained a cliff overlooking the sea. Here she stopped\nand turned round to see whether it was a god or a sea animal, and\nobserved with wonder his shape and color. Glaucus partly emerging\nfrom the water, and supporting himself against a rock, said,\n\"Maiden, I am no monster, nor a sea animal, but a god; and neither\nProteus nor Triton ranks higher than I. Once I was a mortal, and\nfollowed the sea for a living; but now I belong wholly to it.\"\nThen he told the story of his metamorphosis, and how he had been\npromoted to his present dignity, and added, \"But what avails all\nthis if it fails to move your heart?\" He was going on in this\nstrain, but Scylla turned and hastened away.\n\nGlaucus was in despair, but it occurred to him to consult the\nenchantress Circe. Accordingly he repaired to her island\u2014the same\nwhere afterwards Ulysses landed, as we shall see in one of our\nlater stories. After mutual salutations, he said, \"Goddess, I\nentreat your pity; you alone can relieve the pain I suffer. The\npower of herbs I know as well as any one, for it is to them I owe\nmy change of form. I love Scylla. I am ashamed to tell you how I\nhave sued and promised to her, and how scornfully she has treated\nme. I beseech you to use your incantations, or potent herbs, if\nthey are more prevailing, not to cure me of my love,\u2014for that I\ndo not wish,\u2014but to make her share it and yield me a like\nreturn.\" To which Circe replied, for she was not insensible to the\nattractions of the sea-green deity, \"You had better pursue a\nwilling object; you are worthy to be sought, instead of having to\nseek in vain. Be not diffident, know your own worth. I protest to\nyou that even I, goddess though I be, and learned in the virtues\nof plants and spells, should not know how to refuse you. If she\nscorns you scorn her; meet one who is ready to meet you half way,\nand thus make a due return to both at once.\" To these words\nGlaucus replied, \"Sooner shall trees grow at the bottom of the\nocean, and sea-weed on the top of the mountains, than I will cease\nto love Scylla, and her alone.\"\n\nThe goddess was indignant, but she could not punish him, neither\ndid she wish to do so, for she liked him too well; so she turned\nall her wrath against her rival, poor Scylla. She took plants of\npoisonous powers and mixed them together, with incantations and\ncharms. Then she passed through the crowd of gambolling beasts,\nthe victims of her art, and proceeded to the coast of Sicily,\nwhere Scylla lived. There was a little bay on the shore to which\nScylla used to resort, in the heat of the day, to breathe the air\nof the sea, and to bathe in its waters. Here the goddess poured\nher poisonous mixture, and muttered over it incantations of mighty\npower. Scylla came as usual and plunged into the water up to her\nwaist. What was her horror to perceive a brood of serpents and\nbarking monsters surrounding her! At first she could not imagine\nthey were a part of herself, and tried to run from them, and to\ndrive them away; but as she ran she carried them with her, and\nwhen she tried to touch her limbs, she found her hands touch only\nthe yawning jaws of monsters. Scylla remained rooted to the spot.\nHer temper grew as ugly as her form, and she took pleasure in\ndevouring hapless mariners who came within her grasp. Thus she\ndestroyed six of the companions of Ulysses, and tried to wreck the\nships of \u00c6neas, till at last she was turned into a rock, and as\nsuch still continues to be a terror to mariners.\n\n\u00a0\n\nKeats, in his \"Endymion,\" has given a new version of the ending of\n\"Glaucus and Scylla.\" Glaucus consents to Circe's blandishments,\ntill he by chance is witness to her transactions with her beasts.\nDisgusted with her treachery and cruelty, he tries to escape from\nher, but is taken and brought back, when with reproaches she\nbanishes him, sentencing him to pass a thousand years in\ndecrepitude and pain. He returns to the sea, and there finds the\nbody of Scylla, whom the goddess has not transformed but drowned.\nGlaucus learns that his destiny is that, if he passes his thousand\nyears in collecting all the bodies of drowned lovers, a youth\nbeloved of the gods will appear and help him. Endymion fulfils\nthis prophecy, and aids in restoring Glaucus to youth, and Scylla\nand all the drowned lovers to life.\n\nThe following is Glaucus's account of his feelings after his \"sea-\nchange\":\n\n\"I plunged for life or death. To interknit\n\nOne's senses with so dense a breathing stuff\n\nMight seem a work of pain; so not enough\n\nCan I admire how crystal-smooth it felt,\n\nAnd buoyant round my limbs. At first I dwelt\n\nWhole days and days in sheer astonishment;\n\nForgetful utterly of self-intent,\n\nMoving but with the mighty ebb and flow.\n\nThen like a new-fledged bird that first doth show\n\nHis spreaded feathers to the morrow chill,\n\nI tried in fear the pinions of my will.\n\n'Twas freedom! and at once I visited\n\nThe ceaseless wonders of this ocean-bed,\" etc.\n\n\u2014Keats.","title":"The Age of Fable/Chapter VII","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":3650}