MYTHS OF LESSER DIVINITIES OF THE WATERS
=141. Galatea and Polyphemus.= The water-gods may be roughly classed
as dwellers in the sea and dwellers in the streams. Of the former,
daughters of Nereus and Doris, none was fairer than Galatea, sister
of Amphitrite and Thetis. She loved Acis, the son of Faunus by a
Naiad, and was loved in return; but her happiness was disturbed and
finally ruined by the persistent and jealous attentions of the Cyclops
Polyphemus.
For the first time in his life the Cyclops began to care for his
appearance; he harrowed his coarse locks with a currycomb, mowed his
beard with a sickle, and, looking into the sea when it was calm,
soliloquized, "Beautiful seems my beard, beautiful my one eye,--as I
count beauty,--and the sea reflects the gleam of my teeth whiter than
the Parian stone."[183]
... He loved, not with apples, not roses, nor locks of hair,
but with fatal frenzy; and all things else he held but trifles
by the way. Many a time from the green pastures would his ewes
stray back, self-shepherded, to the fold. But he was singing
of Galatea; and pining in his place, he sat by the seaweed of
the beach from the dawn of day with the direst hurt beneath his
breast of mighty Cypris' sending,--the wound of her arrow in his
heart!
Yet this remedy he found, and sitting on the crest of the tall
cliff and looking to the deep, 'twas thus he would sing:
"Oh, milk-white Galatea, why cast off him that loves thee? More
white than is pressed milk to look upon, more delicate than the
lamb art thou, than the young calf wantoner, more sleek than
the unripened grape! Here dost thou resort, even so, when sweet
sleep possesses me, and home straightway dost thou depart when
sweet sleep lets me go, fleeing me like an ewe that has seen the
gray wolf. I fell in love with thee, maiden, I, on the day when
first thou camest, with my mother, and didst wish to pluck the
hyacinths from the hill, and I was thy guide on the way. But to
leave loving thee when once I had seen thee, neither afterward,
nor now at all, have I the strength, even from that hour. But to
thee all this is as nothing, by Zeus, nay, nothing at all!
"I know, thou gracious maiden, why it is that thou dost shun me.
It is all for the shaggy brow that spans my forehead, from this
to the other ear, one long, unbroken eyebrow. And but one eye is
on my forehead, and broad is the nose that overhangs my lip. Yet
I (even such as thou seest me) feed a thousand cattle, and from
these I draw and drink the best milk in the world. And cheese I
never lack, in summer time or autumn, nay, nor in the dead of
winter, but my baskets are always overladen.
[Illustration: FIG. 112. GALATEA AND POLYPHEMUS]
"Also I am skilled in piping, as none other of the Cyclopes here,
and of thee, my love, my sweet apple, and of myself, too, I sing,
many a time, deep in the night. And for thee I tend eleven fawns,
all crescent browed, and four young whelps of the bear. Nay, come
thou to me and thou shalt lack nothing that now thou hast....
"But if thou dost refuse because my body seems shaggy and rough,
well, I have faggots of oak-wood, and beneath the ashes is fire
unwearied, and I would endure to let thee burn my very soul, and
this my one eye, the dearest thing that is mine.
"Ah me, that my mother bore me not a finny thing, so would I have
gone down to thee, and kissed thy hand, if thy lips thou would
not suffer me to kiss! And I would have brought thee either white
lilies or the soft poppy with its scarlet petals. Nay, these are
summer's flowers, and those are flowers of winter, so I could not
have brought thee them all at one time.
"Now, verily, maiden, now and here will I learn to swim, if
perchance some stranger come hither, sailing with his ship, that
I may see why it is so dear to thee to have thy dwelling in the
deep. Come forth, Galatea, and forget as thou comest, even as I
that sit here have forgotten, the homeward way!...
"Oh, Cyclops, Cyclops, whither are thy wits wandering? Ah, that
thou wouldst go and weave thy wickerwork and gather broken boughs
to carry to thy lambs: in faith, if thou didst this, far wiser
wouldst thou be!
"Milk the ewe that thou hast; why pursue the thing that shuns
thee? Thou wilt find, perchance, another, and a fairer, Galatea.
Many be the girls that bid me stay with them, and softly they all
laugh, if perchance I answer them. On land it is plain that I,
too, seem to be somebody!"[184]
Having, one day, in such wise sung, Polyphemus wandered, beside
himself for passion, into the woods. On a sudden he came in sight of
Galatea and Acis in the hollow of a rock, where they had hearkened to
the strains of the Cyclops. The monster, infuriate, crying that this
should be the last of their love-meetings, overwhelmed his rival with a
tremendous rock. Purple blood spirted from under the stone, by degrees
grew paler, and finally became the stream that still bears the name of
the unfortunate youth. But Galatea remained inconsolable.[185]
[Illustration: FIG. 113. A SEA-GOD]
=142. Glaucus and Scylla.=[186] Another deity of the sea was Glaucus,
the son of that Sisyphus who was punished in Hades for his treachery
to the gods. Glaucus had been a comely young fisherman; but having
noticed that a certain herb revived fishes after they were brought to
land, he ate of it and suffered metamorphosis into something new and
strange, half man, half fish, and after the fashion of a sea-god. Of
his experience during this "sea change" the following is an account:
I plunged for life or death. To interknit
One's senses with so dense a breathing stuff
Might seem a work of pain; so not enough
Can I admire how crystal-smooth it felt,
And buoyant round my limbs. At first I dwelt
Whole days and days in sheer astonishment;
Forgetful utterly of self-intent,
Moving but with the mighty ebb and flow.
Then like a new-fledged bird that first doth show
His spreaded feathers to the morrow chill,
I tried in fear the pinions of my will.
'Twas freedom! and at once I visited
The ceaseless wonders of this ocean bed.[187]
He became guardian of fishes and divers and of those who go down to
the sea in ships. Later, being infatuated of the fair virgin Scylla
(daughter of the sea-god Phorcys and granddaughter of Pontus), he
paid his court to her, but the maiden rejected him. Whereupon, in
desperation, Glaucus sought the aid of Circe, an enchantress. She,
because she coveted for herself the handsome sea-green god, transformed
her rival into a monster hideously fashioned of serpents and barking
dogs.[188] In this shape Scylla thereafter infested the shore of Sicily
and worked evil to mariners,[189] till finally she was petrified as a
reef, none the less perilous to all seafarers.
A modern version of the fate of Glaucus and Scylla is given by Keats in
the Endymion. Glaucus consents to Circe's blandishments for a season,
but becoming disgusted with her treachery and cruelty, he endeavors
to escape from her. The attempt proving unsuccessful, he is brought
back and sentenced to pass a thousand years in decrepitude and pain.
Consequently, returning to the sea, he there discovers the body of
Scylla, whom the goddess has not transformed, but drowned, and learns
that if he passes his thousand years in collecting the bodies of
drowned lovers, a youth beloved of the gods will, in time, appear and
help him. This prophecy is fulfilled by Endymion, who aids in restoring
Glaucus to youth, and Scylla and the drowned lovers to life.
=143. Nisus and Scylla.=[190] The daughter of Phorcys is frequently
confounded with another Scylla, daughter of King Nisus of Megara.
Scylla of Megara betrayed her father to his enemy, Minos II of Crete,
with whom, although the kings were at war, she had fallen violently in
love. It seems that Nisus had on his head a purple lock of hair, upon
which depended his fortune and his life. This lock his daughter clipped
and conveyed to Minos. But recoiling from the treacherous gift, that
king, after he had conquered Megara, bound Scylla to the rudder of
his ship and so dragged her through the waves toward Crete. The girl
was ultimately transformed into the monster of the barking dogs, or,
according to another authority, into a bird continually the prey of the
sea eagle, whose form her father Nisus had assumed.
=144. Leucothea.=[191] Another sea change was that of Ino, the daughter
of Cadmus and wife of Athamas, who, flying from her frantic husband,
sprang, with her child Melicertes in her arms, from a cliff into the
sea. The gods, out of compassion, made her a goddess of the sea under
the name of Leucothea, and her son a god under that of Palæmon. Both
were held powerful to save from shipwreck and were invoked by sailors.
Palæmon was usually represented as riding on a dolphin. In his honor
the Isthmian games were celebrated. By the Romans he was called
Portumnus, and had jurisdiction of ports and shores.
=145. Proteus and Aristæus.=[192] Though Aristæus, the lover of
Eurydice, was son of Apollo and guardian himself of herds and flocks,
protector of vine and olive, and keeper of bees, still he was son of
Cyrene, a water-nymph, and his most interesting adventure brought him
into contact with another deity of the sea.
His bees having perished, Aristæus resorted for aid to his mother. She,
surrounded by her maidens in the crystalline abode under her river,
overheard his complaints and ordered that he should be brought into her
presence. The stream at her command opened itself and let him enter,
while it stood heaped like a mountain on either side. Cyrene and her
nymphs, having poured out libations to Neptune, gave the youth to eat
and listened to his complaint, then informed him that an aged prophet
named Proteus, who dwelt in the sea and pastured the sea calves of
Neptune, could explain the cause of the mortality among the bees and
how to remedy it; but that the wizard would have to be chained and
compelled to answer, and that even when chained, he would try to escape
by assuming a series of dreadful forms. "Still, thou hast but to keep
him fast bound," concluded Cyrene, "and at last, when he finds his
arts of no avail, he will obey thy behest." The nymph then sprinkled
her son with nectar, whereupon an unusual vigor filled his frame and
courage his heart.
Cyrene led her son to the prophet's cave, which was in the island of
Pharos, or of Carpathos,[193] and concealed him. At noon issued Proteus
from the water, followed by his herd of sea calves, which spread
themselves along the shore. He, too, stretched himself on the floor of
the cave and went to sleep. Aristæus immediately clapped fetters on him
and shouted at the top of his voice. Proteus, finding himself captured,
resorted to his craft, becoming first a fire, then a flood, then a
horrible wild beast, in rapid succession; nor did he succumb till all
schemes had failed to set him free. Then he resumed his old form and,
in response to the questioning of Aristæus, said: "Thou receivest the
merited reward of thy deed, by which Eurydice met her death. To avenge
her, the nymphs have sent this destruction on thy bees. Their anger
thou must appease. Four bulls shalt thou select, of perfect form and
size, and four cows of equal beauty; and four altars shalt thou build
to the nymphs, and shalt sacrifice the animals, leaving their carcasses
in the leafy grove. To Orpheus and Eurydice thou shalt pay such funeral
honors as may allay their resentment. Returning after nine days,
examine the bodies of the cattle slain and see what has befallen."
Aristæus faithfully obeyed these directions. Returning to the grove on
the ninth day he found that a swarm of bees had taken possession of one
of the carcasses and were pursuing their labors there as in a hive.[194]
=146. Acheloüs and Hercules.=[195] A similar contest took place
between Hercules and the river-god Acheloüs. The cause of the strife
was Dejanira of Calydon, whom both heroes loved. Hercules boasted his
divine descent. Acheloüs, not content with advancing his claim as
lord of the mightiest and most ancient river of Greece, insinuated
suspicions with regard to the value of Hercules' pretensions. Then
began a mighty struggle. Finding he was no match for Hercules in
the wrestler's art, Acheloüs glided away in the form of a serpent.
Hercules, remarking that it was the labor of his infancy to strangle
snakes,[196] clasped the neck of Acheloüs and choked him. Then
Acheloüs assumed the seeming of a bull. Whereupon Hercules, seizing
him by the horns, dragged his head to the ground, overthrew him, and
rent one horn away. This trophy the Naiads consecrated and filled with
flowers for the goddess of Plenty, who, adopting it as her symbol,
named it Cornucopia.
[Illustration: FIG. 114. NEREÏDS AND SEA MONSTERS]
=147. Milton's Sabrina Fair.= No writer in modern times has made more
graceful poetic use of the divinities of the streams than has Milton.
The following song, chanted by a Spirit in invocation of "the gentle
nymph" (of the poet's invention) "that with moist curb sways the smooth
Severn stream," is but one refrain of many caught by the poet from the
far-echoing chorus of classical verse:
Sabrina fair,
Listen where thou art sitting
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;
Listen for dear honor's sake,
Goddess of the silver lake,
Listen and save.
Listen and appear to us
In name of great Oceanus.
By th' earth-shaking Neptune's mace,
And Tethys' grave, majestic pace,
By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look,
And the Carpathian wizard's hook,
By scaly Triton's winding shell,
And old soothsaying Glaucus' spell,
By Leucothea's lovely hands,
And her son that rules the strands,
By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet,
And the songs of Sirens sweet,
By dead Parthenope's[1] dear tomb
And fair Ligea's[197] golden comb,
Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks,
Sleeking her soft, alluring locks,
By all the nymphs that nightly dance
Upon thy streams with wily glance;
Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head
From thy coral-paven bed,
And bridle in thy headlong wave,
Till thou our summons answered have.
Listen and save.[198]
FOOTNOTES:
[183] Theocritus, Idyl VI. See Andrew Lang's translation.
[184] Theocritus, Idyl XI (Lang's translation).
[185] Ovid, Metam. 13, 750-867.
[186] Ovid, Metam. 13, 898; 14, 74; Tibullus, 3, 4-89.
[187] From Keats' Endymion.
[188] §§ 50, 52, and Commentary.
[189] See §§ 239, 250, Adventures of Ulysses and Æneas.
[190] Apollodorus, 3, 15, § 8.
[191] Ovid, Metam. 4, 432-542.
[192] Cf. Odyssey, 4, 410; Ovid, Fasti, 1, 369; Virgil, Georgics, 4,
317.
[193] Cf. § 147, Milton's Carpathian Wizard.
[194] See Commentary.
[195] Ovid, Metam. 9, 1-100.
[196] § 156.
[197] See Commentary.
[198] Milton, Comus, 859-889.