{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_The_Age_of_Fable_Chapter_XII/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_The_Age_of_Fable_Chapter_XII","id":"wikisource_The_Age_of_Fable_Chapter_XII","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_XII","summary":null,"tags":["Headers_applying_DefaultSort_key","Subpages"],"text":"CADMUS \u2014 THE MYRMIDONS\n\nJupiter, under the disguise of a bull, had carried away Europa,\nthe daughter of Agenor, king of Ph\u0153nicia. Agenor commanded his\nson Cadmus to go in search of his sister, and not to return\nwithout her. Cadmus went and sought long and far for his sister,\nbut could not find her, and not daring to return unsuccessful,\nconsulted the oracle of Apollo to know what country he should\nsettle in. The oracle informed him that he should find a cow in\nthe field, and should follow her wherever she might wander, and\nwhere she stopped, should build a city and call it Thebes. Cadmus\nhad hardly left the Castalian cave, from which the oracle was\ndelivered, when he saw a young cow slowly walking before him. He\nfollowed her close, offering at the same time his prayers to\nPhoebus. The cow went on till she passed the shallow channel of\nCephisus and came out into the plain of Panope. There she stood\nstill, and raising her broad forehead to the sky, filled the air\nwith her lowings. Cadmus gave thanks, and stooping down kissed the\nforeign soil, then lifting his eyes, greeted the surrounding\nmountains. Wishing to offer a sacrifice to Jupiter, he sent his\nservants to seek pure water for a libation. Near by there stood an\nancient grove which had never been profaned by the axe, in the\nmidst of which was a cave, thick covered with the growth of\nbushes, its roof forming a low arch, from beneath which burst\nforth a fountain of purest water. In the cave lurked a horrid\nserpent with a crested head and scales glittering like gold. His\neyes shone like fire, his body was swollen with venom, he vibrated\na triple tongue, and showed a triple row of teeth. No sooner had\nthe Tyrians dipped their pitchers in the fountain, and the in-\ngushing waters made a sound, than the glittering serpent raised\nhis head out of the cave and uttered a fearful hiss. The vessels\nfell from their hands, the blood left their cheeks, they trembled\nin every limb. The serpent, twisting his scaly body in a huge\ncoil, raised his head so as to overtop the tallest trees, and\nwhile the Tyrians from terror could neither fight nor fly, slew\nsome with his fangs, others in his folds, and others with his\npoisonous breath.\n\nCadmus, having waited for the return of his men till midday, went\nin search of them. His covering was a lion's hide, and besides his\njavelin he carried in his hand a lance, and in his breast a bold\nheart, a surer reliance than either. When he entered the wood, and\nsaw the lifeless bodies of his men, and the monster with his\nbloody jaws, he exclaimed, \"O faithful friends, I will avenge you,\nor share your death.\" So saying he lifted a huge stone and threw\nit with all his force at the serpent. Such a block would have\nshaken the wall of a fortress, but it made no impression on the\nmonster. Cadmus next threw his javelin, which met with better\nsuccess, for it penetrated the serpent's scales, and pierced\nthrough to his entrails. Fierce with pain, the monster turned back\nhis head to view the wound, and attempted to draw out the weapon\nwith his mouth, but broke it off, leaving the iron point rankling\nin his flesh. His neck swelled with rage, bloody foam covered his\njaws, and the breath of his nostrils poisoned the air around. Now\nhe twisted himself into a circle, then stretched himself out on\nthe ground like the trunk of a fallen tree. As he moved onward,\nCadmus retreated before him, holding his spear opposite to the\nmonster's opened jaws. The serpent snapped at the weapon and\nattempted to bite its iron point. At last Cadmus, watching his\nchance, thrust the spear at a moment when the animal's head thrown\nback came against the trunk of a tree, and so succeeded in pinning\nhim to its side. His weight bent the tree as he struggled in the\nagonies of death.\n\nWhile Cadmus stood over his conquered foe, contemplating its vast\nsize, a voice was heard (from whence he knew not, but he heard it\ndistinctly) commanding him to take the dragon's teeth and sow them\nin the earth. He obeyed. He made a furrow in the ground, and\nplanted the teeth, destined to produce a crop of men. Scarce had\nhe done so when the clods began to move, and the points of spears\nto appear above the surface. Next helmets with their nodding\nplumes came up, and next the shoulders and breasts and limbs of\nmen with weapons, and in time a harvest of armed warriors. Cadmus,\nalarmed, prepared to encounter a new enemy, but one of them said\nto him, \"Meddle not with our civil war.\" With that he who had\nspoken smote one of his earth-born brothers with a sword, and he\nhimself fell pierced with an arrow from another. The latter fell\nvictim to a fourth, and in like manner the whole crowd dealt with\neach other till all fell, slain with mutual wounds, except five\nsurvivors. One of these cast away his weapons and said, \"Brothers,\nlet us live in peace!\" These five joined with Cadmus in building\nhis city, to which they gave the name of Thebes.\n\nCadmus obtained in marriage Harmonia, the daughter of Venus. The\ngods left Olympus to honor the occasion with their presence, and\nVulcan presented the bride with a necklace of surpassing\nbrilliancy, his own workmanship. But a fatality hung over the\nfamily of Cadmus in consequence of his killing the serpent sacred\nto Mars. Semele and Ino, his daughters, and Act\u00e6on and Pentheus,\nhis grandchildren, all perished unhappily, and Cadmus and Harmonia\nquitted Thebes, now grown odious to them, and emigrated to the\ncountry of the Enchelians, who received them with honor and made\nCadmus their king. But the misfortunes of their children still\nweighed upon their minds; and one day Cadmus exclaimed, \"If a\nserpent's life is so dear to the gods, I would I were myself a\nserpent.\" No sooner had he uttered the words than he began to\nchange his form. Harmonia beheld it and prayed to the gods to let\nher share his fate. Both became serpents. They live in the woods,\nbut mindful of their origin, they neither avoid the presence of\nman nor do they ever injure any one.\n\n\u00a0\n\nThere is a tradition that Cadmus introduced into Greece the\nletters of the alphabet which were invented by the Phoenicians.\nThis is alluded to by Byron, where, addressing the modern Greeks,\nhe says:\n\n\"You have the letters Cadmus gave,\n\nThink you he meant them for a slave?\"\n\nMilton, describing the serpent which tempted Eve, is reminded of\nthe serpents of the classical stories and says:\n\n... \"--pleasing was his shape,\n\nAnd lovely never since of serpent kind\n\nLovelier; not those that in Illyria changed\n\nHermione and Cadmus, nor the god\n\nIn Epidaurus\"\n\nFor an explanation of the last allusion, see Oracle of \u00c6sculapius, p. 298.\n\nTHE MYRMIDONS\n\nThe Myrmidons were the soldiers of Achilles, in the Trojan war.\nFrom them all zealous and unscrupulous followers of a political\nchief are called by that name, down to this day. But the origin of\nthe Myrmidons would not give one the idea of a fierce and bloody\nrace, but rather of a laborious and peaceful one.\n\nCephalus, king of Athens, arrived in the island of \u00c6gina to seek\nassistance of his old friend and ally \u00c6acus, the king, in his war\nwith Minos, king of Crete. Cephalus was most kindly received, and\nthe desired assistance readily promised. \"I have people enough,\"\nsaid \u00c6acus, \"to protect myself and spare you such a force as you\nneed.\" \"I rejoice to see it,\" replied Cephalus, \"and my wonder has\nbeen raised, I confess, to find such a host of youths as I see\naround me, all apparently of about the same age. Yet there are\nmany individuals whom I previously knew, that I look for now in\nvain. What has become of them?\" \u00c6acus groaned, and replied with a\nvoice of sadness, \"I have been intending to tell you, and will now\ndo so, without more delay, that you may see how from the saddest\nbeginning a happy result sometimes flows. Those whom you formerly\nknew are now dust and ashes! A plague sent by angry Juno\ndevastated the land. She hated it because it bore the name of one\nof her husband's female favorites. While the disease appeared to\nspring from natural causes we resisted it, as we best might, by\nnatural remedies; but it soon appeared that the pestilence was too\npowerful for our efforts, and we yielded. At the beginning the sky\nseemed to settle down upon the earth, and thick clouds shut in the\nheated air. For four months together a deadly south wind\nprevailed. The disorder affected the wells and springs; thousands\nof snakes crept over the land and shed their poison in the\nfountains. The force of the disease was first spent on the lower\nanimals--dogs, cattle, sheep, and birds The luckless ploughman\nwondered to see his oxen fall in the midst of their work, and lie\nhelpless in the unfinished furrow. The wool fell from the bleating\nsheep, and their bodies pined away. The horse, once foremost in\nthe race, contested the palm no more, but groaned at his stall and\ndied an inglorious death. The wild boar forgot his rage, the stag\nhis swiftness, the bears no longer attacked the herds. Everything\nlanguished; dead bodies lay in the roads, the fields, and the\nwoods; the air was poisoned by them, I tell you what is hardly\ncredible, but neither dogs nor birds would touch them, nor\nstarving wolves. Their decay spread the infection. Next the\ndisease attacked the country people, and then the dwellers in the\ncity. At first the cheek was flushed, and the breath drawn with\ndifficulty. The tongue grew rough and swelled, and the dry mouth\nstood open with its veins enlarged and gasped for the air. Men\ncould not bear the heat of their clothes or their beds, but\npreferred to lie on the bare ground; and the ground did not cool\nthem, but, on the contrary, they heated the spot where they lay.\nNor could the physicians help, for the disease attacked them also,\nand the contact of the sick gave them infection, so that the most\nfaithful were the first victims. At last all hope of relief\nvanished, and men learned to look upon death as the only deliverer\nfrom disease. Then they gave way to every inclination, and cared\nnot to ask what was expedient, for nothing was expedient. All\nrestraint laid aside, they crowded around the wells and fountains\nand drank till they died, without quenching thirst. Many had not\nstrength to get away from the water, but died in the midst of the\nstream, and others would drink of it notwithstanding. Such was\ntheir weariness of their sick beds that some would creep forth,\nand if not strong enough to stand, would die on the ground. They\nseemed to hate their friends, and got away from their homes, as\nif, not knowing the cause of their sickness, they charged it on\nthe place of their abode. Some were seen tottering along the road,\nas long as they could stand, while others sank on the earth, and\nturned their dying eyes around to take a last look, then closed\nthem in death.\n\n\"What heart had I left me, during all this, or what ought I to\nhave had, except to hate life and wish to be with my dead\nsubjects? On all sides lay my people strewn like over-ripened\napples beneath the tree, or acorns under the storm-shaken oak. You\nsee yonder a temple on the height. It is sacred to Jupiter. O how\nmany offered prayers there, husbands for wives, fathers for sons,\nand died in the very act of supplication! How often, while the\npriest made ready for sacrifice, the victim fell, struck down by\ndisease without waiting for the blow! At length all reverence for\nsacred things was lost. Bodies were thrown out unburied, wood was\nwanting for funeral piles, men fought with one another for the\npossession of them. Finally there were none left to mourn; sons\nand husbands, old men and youths, perished alike unlamented.\n\n\"Standing before the altar I raised my eyes to heaven. 'O\nJupiter,' I said, 'if thou art indeed my father, and art not\nashamed of thy offspring, give me back my people, or take me also\naway!' At these words a clap of thunder was heard. 'I accept the\nomen,' I cried; 'O may it be a sign of a favorable disposition\ntowards me!' By chance there grew by the place where I stood an\noak with wide-spreading branches, sacred to Jupiter. I observed a\ntroop of ants busy with their labor, carrying minute grains in\ntheir mouths and following one another in a line up the trunk of\nthe tree. Observing their numbers with admiration, I said, 'Give\nme, O father, citizens as numerous as these, and replenish my\nempty city.' The tree shook and gave a rustling sound with its\nbranches, though no wind agitated them. I trembled in every limb,\nyet I kissed the earth and the tree. I would not confess to myself\nthat I hoped, yet I did hope. Night came on and sleep took\npossession of my frame oppressed with cares. The tree stood before\nme in my dreams, with its numerous branches all covered with\nliving, moving creatures. It seemed to shake its limbs and throw\ndown over the ground a multitude of those industrious grain-gathering animals, which appeared to gain in size, and grow larger\nand larger, and by and by to stand erect, lay aside their\nsuperfluous legs and their black color, and finally to assume the\nhuman form. Then I awoke, and my first impulse was to chide the\ngods who had robbed me of a sweet vision and given me no reality\nin its place. Being still in the temple, my attention was caught\nby the sound of many voices without; a sound of late unusual to my\nears. While I began to think I was yet dreaming, Telamon, my son,\nthrowing open the temple gates, exclaimed: 'Father, approach, and\nbehold things surpassing even your hopes!' I went forth; I saw a\nmultitude of men, such as I had seen in my dream, and they were\npassing in procession in the same manner. While I gazed with\nwonder and delight they approached and kneeling hailed me as their\nking. I paid my vows to Jove, and proceeded to allot the vacant\ncity to the new-born race, and to parcel out the fields among them\nI called them Myrmidons, from the ant (myrmex) from which they\nsprang. You have seen these persons; their dispositions resemble\nthose which they had in their former shape. They are a diligent\nand industrious race, eager to gain, and tenacious of their gains.\nAmong them you may recruit your forces. They will follow you to\nthe war, young in years and bold in heart.\" This description of\nthe plague is copied by Ovid from the account which Thucydides,\nthe Greek historian, gives of the plague of Athens. The historian\ndrew from life, and all the poets and writers of fiction since his\nday, when they have had occasion to describe a similar scene, have\nborrowed their details from him.","title":"The Age of Fable/Chapter XII","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":2610}