It was not long before Bacchus formed an attachment to Erigone, the
daughter of Icarius, and to accomplish his purpose took the form of a bunch
of grapes; scarcely was it pressed upon her lips, than she felt thrilling
through her frame, the effects of the sweet intoxication.
The shepherds residing in the neighbourhood of Athens, having come into the
vine-yard of Icarius, drank to such excess of the juice which was so
temptingly presented to their sight, that, in the fury of their
intoxication, they slew their host, and threw him into a deep well. {59} To
expiate his crime, the Icarian games were instituted, and Mera the trusty
dog of Icarius, having conducted Erigone to the fatal well, she hung
herself in the first madness of her grief; while Mera, the faithful animal,
overwhelmed with consternation at the loss of all he loved, died in sorrow.
Icarius was changed into the star Bootes, Erigone took the sign of the
Virgin, and Mera that of the Dog-star.
To console himself for his loss, the God of the Grape paid a visit to
Proserpine, and the beautiful wife of Pluto, was by no means insensible to
his merits; but after an absence of three years, Bacchus returned to
Ariadne, whose truth and sweetness of disposition, were untouched by his
forgetfulness; and from this time it is pleasing to relate that her wisdom
and her faithfulness were rewarded by a constancy, which never afterwards
deceived her.
One of the most pleasant stories in the whole range of Mythology, is
related of the youth Bacchus.
When dwelling in the Isle of Naxos, where he had been for some years,
becoming oppressed with the heat of the sun, he threw himself on the
sea-shore, and fell fast asleep; some pirates who called there for water,
struck with his extreme beauty, seized the dreaming boy with the
determination of selling him for a slave: and so sound was the sleep of the
God, that they had proceeded for a long space on their journey before he
awoke.
Fully aware of his divine origin, the deity determined to make a sport of
these bold robbers; and pretending the utmost terror, he implored them to
say how he came there, and what they were going to do with him.
"You have nothing to fear," was the reply, "only tell us what your wish is,
and it shall be complied with."
"I live at Naxos," said the boy, "and there I would fain find myself."
Perceiving that they continued to steer the wrong course for Naxos, Bacchus
threw himself at their feet, as they made for shore.
"Those are not the trees of Naxos," he exclaimed, "I do not see the hills
and valleys of my native land."
A speech like this, only drew forth the laughter of his captors, while they
continued to row merrily to the shore with their prize. {60}
"The beauteous youth now found himself betrayed,
And from the deck the rising waves surveyed,
And seemed to weep, and as he wept he said,
'And do you thus my easy faith beguile?
Thus, do you bear me to my native isle?
Will such a multitude of men employ
Their strength against a weak defenceless boy?'"
But behold! the vessel becomes motionless; in vain they plied their oars,
their bark moved not: and suddenly vine trees seemed to spring from the
planks of the ship, mingling with the cordage and the sails, and twining
round the oars, which also became immoveable.
Much as the sailors were astonished at this phenomenon, it was equalled by
their horror, when Bacchus waved a spear he held in his hand, in answer to
which, tigers and panthers, with others of the most savage beasts of the
desert, seemed to swim round the vessel and wanton with the waters.
"The God we now behold with opened eyes,
An herd of spotted panthers round him lies,
In glaring forms: the grapy clusters spread,
On his fair brows and dangle on his head."
Unable to bear the horror of the sight, the robbers threw themselves into
the sea, and Bacchus turned them into Dolphins, then seizing the helm
steered the ship towards Naxos, attended by his train of Dolphins and wild
beasts!
[Illustration]
On the altar of Bacchus the goat was immolated, because he destroyed the
bark and leaves of the vine, and the magpie, because wine makes the tongue
of man to chatter like that of the bird. The ivy was consecrated to him, on
account of its coolness, which dissipated the fumes of wine, and he carried
in his hand a dart called the thyrsis, twined round with leaves of ivy, and
of vine. The Bacchantes, his ordinary priestesses, bore also in their hands
the thyrsis. His feasts were celebrated every three years, and were called
orgies, from a word which signifies fury and impetuosity.
[Illustration: The feast of Bacchus.]
{61}
[Illustration]
The Bacchantes went into the mountains with torches in their hands, covered
with the skins of tigers and panthers.
"And as I sat over the light blue hills,
There came a noise of revellers; the rills
Into the wide stream came of purple hue,
'Twas Bacchus and his crew.
The earnest trumpet spake, and silver thrills
From kissing cymbals made a merry din--
'Twas Bacchus and his kin.
"Like to a moving vintage down they came,
Crowned with green leaves, and faces all on flame;
All madly dancing through the pleasant valley,
To scare thee, melancholy!
O then, o then, thou wast a simple name!
And I forgot thee as the berried holly
By shepherds is forgotten, when in June,
Tall chesnuts keep away the sun and moon,
I rushed into the folly!
"Within his car aloft, young Bacchus stood.
Trifling his ivy dart, in dancing mood,
With sidelong laughing,
And little rills of crimson wine embrued
His plump white arms and shoulders, enough white,
For Venus pearly bite;
And near him rode Silenus on his ass,
Pelted with flowers as he on did pass,
Tipsily quaffing.
{62}
"Whence came ye merry damsels! whence came ye,
So many, and so many, and such glee?
"Why have ye left your bowers desolate,
Your lutes and gentler nature?
We follow Bacchus! Bacchus on the wing,
A conquering!
Bacchus, young Bacchus! good or ill betide,
We dance before him through kingdoms wide:
Come hither, lady fair, and joined be,
To our wild minstrelsy!
"Whence came ye, jolly Satyrs! whence came ye,
So many, and so many, and such glee?
Why have ye left your forest haunts, why left
Your nuts in oak tree cleft?
For wine, for wine we left our kernel tree;
For wine we left our heath and yellow brooms,
And cold mushrooms;
For wine we follow Bacchus through the earth;
Great God of breathless cups and chirping mirth,
Come hither lady fair, and joined be,
To our mad minstrelsy.
"Over wide streams and mountains great we went,
And save when Bacchus kept his ivy tent,
Onward the tiger and the leopard pants,
With Asian elephants:
Onward these myriads--with song and dance,
With zebras striped, and sleek Arabians prance,
Web-footed alligators, crocodiles,
Bearing upon their scaly backs, in files,
Plump infant laughers, mimicking the coil
Of seamen, and stout galley-rowers' toil:
With toying oars and silken sails they glide,
Nor care for wind or tide.
"Mounted on panthers' furs, and lions' manes,
From rear to van they scour about the plains;
A three days' journey in a moment done,
And always at the rising of the sun,
About the wilds they hunt, with spear and horn,
On spleenful unicorn.
"I saw Osirian Egypt kneel adown,
Before the vine-wreathed crown;
I saw parched Abyssinia rouse and sing,
To the silver cymbal's ring!
I saw the whelming vintage hotly pierce
Old Tartary the fierce,
The kings of eld their jewel sceptres vail,
And from their treasures scatter pearled hail;
Great Brahma from his mystic heaven groans,
And all his priesthood moans,
Before young Bacchus' eye-wink, turning pale!"