While the brave victor gazed upon the bulk enormous of his vanquished foe, a voice was heard—from whence was difficult to know, but surely heard—“Son of Agenor, why art thou here standing by this carcase-worm, for others shall behold thy body changed into a serpent?” Terrified, amazed, he lost his colour and his self-control; his hair stood upright from the dreadful fright. But lo, the hero's watchful Deity, Minerva , from the upper realms of air appeared before him. She commanded him to sow the dragon's teeth in mellowed soil, from which might spring another race of men. And he obeyed: and as he plowed the land, took care to scatter in the furrowed soil the dragon's teeth; a seed to raise up man. 'Tis marvelous but true, when this was done the clods began to move. A spear-point first appeared above the furrows, followed next by helmet-covered heads, nodding their cones; their shoulders, breasts and arms weighted with spears; and largely grew the shielded crop of men.— so is it in the joyful theaters when the gay curtains, rolling from the floor, are upward drawn until the scene is shown,— it seems as if the figures rise to view: first we behold their faces, then we see their bodies, and their forms by slow degrees appear before us on the painted cloth. Cadmus , affrighted by this host, prepared to arm for his defence; but one of those from earth created cried; “Arm not! Away from civil wars!” And with his trenchant sword he smote an earth-born brother, hand to hand; even as the vanquished so the victor fell, pierced by a dart some distant brother hurled; and likewise he who cast that dart was slain: both breathing forth their lives upon the air so briefly theirs, expired together. All as if demented leaped in sudden rage, each on the other, dealing mutual wounds. So, having lived the space allotted them, the youthful warriors perished as they smote the earth (their blood-stained mother) with their breasts: and only five of all the troop remained; of whom Echion, by Minerva warned, called on his brothers to give up the fight, and cast his arms away in pledge of faith.— when Cadmus , exiled from Sidonia 's gates, builded the city by Apollo named, these five were trusted comrades in his toil. Now Thebes is founded, who can deem thy days unhappy in shine exile, Cadmus ? Thou, the son-in-law of Mars and Venus ; thou, whose glorious wife has borne to shine embrace daughters and sons? And thy grandchildren join around thee, almost grown to man's estate.— nor should we say, “He leads a happy life,” Till after death the funeral rites are paid. Thy grandson, Cadmus , was the first to cast thy dear felicity in sorrow's gloom. Oh, it was pitiful to witness him, his horns outbranching from his forehead, chased by dogs that panted for their master's blood! If thou shouldst well inquire it will be shown his sorrow was the crime of Fortune—not his guilt—for who maintains mistakes are crimes? Upon a mountain stained with slaughtered game, the young Hyantian stood. Already day, increasing to meridian, made decrease the flitting shadows, and the hot sun shone betwixt extremes in equal distance. Such the hour, when speaking to his fellow friends, the while they wandered by those lonely haunts, actaeon of Hyantis kindly thus; “Our nets and steel are stained with slaughtered game, the day has filled its complement of sport; now, when Aurora in her saffron car brings back the light of day, we may again repair to haunts of sport. Now Phoebus hangs in middle sky, cleaving the fields with heat.— enough of toil; take down the knotted nets.”— all did as he commanded; and they sought their needed rest. There is a valley called Gargaphia; sacred to Diana , dense with pine trees and the pointed cypress, where, deep in the woods that fringed the valley's edge, was hollowed in frail sandstone and the soft white pumice of the hills an arch, so true it seemed the art of man; for Nature's touch ingenious had so fairly wrought the stone, making the entrance of a grotto cool. Upon the right a limpid fountain ran, and babbled, as its lucid channel spread into a clear pool edged with tender grass. Here, when a-wearied with exciting sport, the Sylvan goddess loved to come and bathe her virgin beauty in the crystal pool. After Diana entered with her nymphs, she gave her javelin, quiver and her bow to one accustomed to the care of arms; she gave her mantle to another nymph who stood near by her as she took it off; two others loosed the sandals from her feet; but Crocale, the daughter of Ismenus, more skillful than her sisters, gathered up the goddess' scattered tresses in a knot;— her own were loosely wantoned on the breeze. Then in their ample urns dipt up the wave and poured it forth, the cloud-nymph Nephele, the nymph of crystal pools called Hyale, the rain-drop Rhanis, Psecas of the dews, and Phyale the guardian of their urns. And while they bathed Diana in their streams, Actaeon, wandering through the unknown woods, entered the precincts of that sacred grove; with steps uncertain wandered he as fate directed, for his sport must wait till morn.— soon as he entered where the clear springs welled or trickled from the grotto's walls, the nymphs, now ready for the bath, beheld the man, smote on their breasts, and made the woods resound, suddenly shrieking. Quickly gathered they to shield Diana with their naked forms, but she stood head and shoulders taller than her guards.— as clouds bright-tinted by the slanting sun, or purple-dyed Aurora, so appeared Diana 's countenance when she was seen. Oh, how she wished her arrows were at hand! But only having water, this she took and dashed it on his manly countenance, and sprinkled with the avenging stream his hair, and said these words, presage of future woe; “Go tell it, if your tongue can tell the tale, your bold eyes saw me stripped of all my robes.” No more she threatened, but she fixed the horns of a great stag firm on his sprinkled brows; she lengthened out his neck; she made his ears sharp at the top; she changed his hands and feet; made long legs of his arms, and covered him with dappled hair—his courage turned to fear. The brave son of Autonoe took to flight, and marveled that he sped so swiftly on.— he saw his horns reflected in a stream and would have said, “Ah, wretched me!” but now he had no voice, and he could only groan: large tears ran trickling down his face, transformed in every feature.—Yet, as clear remained his understanding, and he wondered what he should attempt to do: should he return to his ancestral palace, or plunge deep in vast vacuities of forest wilds? Fear made him hesitate to trust the woods, and shame deterred him from his homeward way. While doubting thus his dogs espied him there: first Blackfoot and the sharp nosed Tracer raised the signal: Tracer of the Gnossian breed, and Blackfoot of the Spartan: swift as wind the others followed. Glutton, Quicksight, Surefoot, three dogs of Arcady; then valiant Killbuck , Tempest, fierce Hunter , and the rapid Wingfoot; sharp-scented Chaser, and Woodranger wounded so lately by a wild boar; savage Wildwood , the wolf-begot with Shepherdess the cow-dog; and ravenous Harpy followed by her twin whelps; and thin-girt Ladon chosen from Sicyonia; racer and Barker, brindled Spot and Tiger; sturdy old Stout and white haired Blanche and black Smut lusty big Lacon , trusty Storm and Quickfoot; active young Wolfet and her Cyprian brother black headed Snap, blazed with a patch of white hair from forehead to his muzzle; swarthy Blackcoat and shaggy Bristle, Towser and Wildtooth, his sire of Dicte and his dam of Lacon ; and yelping Babbler: these and others, more than patience leads us to recount or name. All eager for their prey the pack surmount rocks, cliffs and crags, precipitous—where paths are steep, where roads are none. He flies by routes so oft pursued but now, alas, his flight is from his own!—He would have cried, “Behold your master!—It is I—Actaeon!” Words refused his will. The yelping pack pressed on. First Blackmane seized and tore his master's back, Savage the next, then Rover's teeth were clinched deep in his shoulder.—These, though tardy out, cut through a by-path and arriving first clung to their master till the pack came up. The whole pack fastened on their master's flesh till place was none for others. Groaning he made frightful sounds that not the human voice could utter nor the stag; and filled the hills with dismal moans; and as a suppliant fell down to the ground upon his trembling knees; and turned his stricken eyes on his own dogs, entreating them to spare him from their fangs. But his companions, witless of his plight, urged on the swift pack with their hunting cries. They sought Actaeon and they vainly called, “Actaeon! Hi! Actaeon!” just as though he was away from them. Each time they called he turned his head. And when they chided him, whose indolence denied the joys of sport, how much he wished an indolent desire had haply held him from his ravenous pack. Oh, how much;better 'tis to see the hunt, and the fierce dogs, than feel their savage deeds! They gathered round him, and they fixed their snouts deep in his flesh: tore him to pieces, he whose features only as a stag appeared.— 'Tis said Diana 's fury raged with none abatement till the torn flesh ceased to live. Hapless Actaeon's end in various ways was now regarded; some deplored his doom, but others praised Diana 's chastity; and all gave many reasons. But the spouse of Jove, alone remaining silent, gave nor praise nor blame. Whenever calamity befell the race of Cadmus she rejoiced, in secret, for she visited her rage on all Europa's kindred. Now a fresh occasion has been added to her grief, and wild with jealousy of Semele, her tongue as ever ready to her rage, lets loose a torrent of abuse; “Away! Away with words! Why should I speak of it? Let me attack her! Let me spoil that jade! Am I not Juno the supreme of Heaven? Queen of the flashing scepter? Am I not sister and wife of Jove omnipotent? She even wishes to be known by him a mother of a Deity, a joy almost denied to me! Great confidence has she in her great beauty—nevertheless, I shall so weave the web the bolt of Jove would fail to save her.—Let the Gods deny that I am Saturn 's daughter, if her shade descend not stricken to the Stygian wave.” She rose up quickly from her shining throne, and hidden in a cloud of fiery hue descended to the home of Semele; and while encompassed by the cloud, transformed her whole appearance as to counterfeit old Beroe , an Epidaurian nurse, who tended Semele. Her tresses changed to grey, her smooth skin wrinkled and her step grown feeble as she moved with trembling limbs;— her voice was quavering as an ancient dame's, as Juno , thus disguised, began to talk to Semele. When presently the name of Jove was mentioned—artful Juno thus; (doubtful that Jupiter could be her love)— “When Jove appears to pledge his love to you, implore him to assume his majesty and all his glory, even as he does in presence of his stately Juno—Yea, implore him to caress you as a God.” With artful words as these the goddess worked upon the trusting mind of Semele, daughter of Cadmus , till she begged of Jove a boon, that only hastened her sad death; for Jove not knowing her design replied, “Whatever thy wish, it shall not be denied, and that thy heart shall suffer no distrust, I pledge me by that Deity, the Waves of the deep Stygian Lake,—oath of the Gods.” All overjoyed at her misfortune, proud that she prevailed, and pleased that she secured of him a promise, that could only cause her own disaster, Semele addressed almighty Jove; “Come unto me in all the splendour of thy glory, as thy might is shown to Juno , goddess of the skies.” Fain would he stifle her disastrous tongue; before he knew her quest the words were said; and, knowing that his greatest oath was pledged, he sadly mounted to the lofty skies, and by his potent nod assembled there the deep clouds: and the rain began to pour, and thunder-bolts resounded. But he strove to mitigate his power, and armed him not with flames overwhelming as had put to flight his hundred-handed foe Typhoeus—flames too dreadful. Other thunder-bolts he took, forged by the Cyclops of a milder heat, with which insignia of his majesty, sad and reluctant, he appeared to her.— her mortal form could not endure the shock and she was burned to ashes in his sight. An unformed babe was rescued from her side, and, nurtured in the thigh of Jupiter , completed Nature's time until his birth. Ino, his aunt, in secret nursed the boy and cradled him. And him Nyseian nymphs concealed in caves and fed with needful milk. While these events according to the laws of destiny occurred, and while the child, the twice-born Bacchus , in his cradle lay, 'Tis told that Jupiter , a careless hour, indulged too freely in the nectar cup; and having laid aside all weighty cares, jested with Juno as she idled by. Freely the god began; “Who doubts the truth? The female's pleasure is a great delight, much greater than the pleasure of a male.” Juno denied it; wherefore 'twas agreed to ask Tiresias to declare the truth, than whom none knew both male and female joys: for wandering in a green wood he had seen two serpents coupling; and he took his staff and sharply struck them, till they broke and fled. 'Tis marvelous, that instant he became a woman from a man, and so remained while seven autumns passed. When eight were told, again he saw them in their former plight, and thus he spoke; “Since such a power was wrought, by one stroke of a staff my sex was changed— again I strike!” And even as he struck the same two snakes, his former sex returned; his manhood was restored.— as both agreed to choose him umpire of the sportive strife, he gave decision in support of Jove; from this the disappointment Juno felt surpassed all reason, and enraged, decreed eternal night should seal Tiresias' eyes.— immortal Deities may never turn decrees and deeds of other Gods to naught, but Jove, to recompense his loss of sight, endowed him with the gift of prophecy. Tiresias' fame of prophecy was spread through all the cities of Aonia , for his unerring answers unto all who listened to his words. And first of those that harkened to his fateful prophecies, a lovely Nymph, named Liriope, came with her dear son, who then fifteen, might seem a man or boy—he who was born to her upon the green merge of Cephissus' stream— that mighty River-God whom she declared the father of her boy.— she questioned him. Imploring him to tell her if her son, unequalled for his beauty, whom she called Narcissus, might attain a ripe old age. To which the blind seer answered in these words, “If he but fail to recognize himself, a long life he may have, beneath the sun,”— so, frivolous the prophet's words appeared; and yet the event, the manner of his death, the strange delusion of his frenzied love, confirmed it. Three times five years so were passed. Another five-years, and the lad might seem a young man or a boy. And many a youth, and many a damsel sought to gain his love; but such his mood and spirit and his pride, none gained his favour. Once a noisy Nymph, (who never held her tongue when others spoke, who never spoke till others had begun) mocking Echo, spied him as he drove, in his delusive nets, some timid stags.— for Echo was a Nymph, in olden time,— and, more than vapid sound,—possessed a form: and she was then deprived the use of speech, except to babble and repeat the words, once spoken, over and over. Juno confused her silly tongue, because she often held that glorious goddess with her endless tales, till many a hapless Nymph, from Jove's embrace, had made escape adown a mountain. But for this, the goddess might have caught them. Thus the glorious Juno , when she knew her guile; “Your tongue, so freely wagged at my expense, shall be of little use; your endless voice, much shorter than your tongue.” At once the Nymph was stricken as the goddess had decreed;— and, ever since, she only mocks the sounds of others' voices, or, perchance, returns their final words. One day, when she observed Narcissus wandering in the pathless woods, she loved him and she followed him, with soft and stealthy tread.—The more she followed him the hotter did she burn, as when the flame flares upward from the sulphur on the torch. Oh, how she longed to make her passion known! To plead in soft entreaty! to implore his love! But now, till others have begun, a mute of Nature she must be. She cannot choose but wait the moment when his voice may give to her an answer. Presently the youth, by chance divided from his trusted friends, cries loudly, “Who is here?” and Echo, “Here!” Replies. Amazed, he casts his eyes around, and calls with louder voice, “Come here!” “Come here!” She calls the youth who calls.—He turns to see who calls him and, beholding naught exclaims, “Avoid me not!” “Avoid me not!” returns. He tries again, again, and is deceived by this alternate voice, and calls aloud; “Oh let us come together!” Echo cries, “Oh let us come together!” Never sound seemed sweeter to the Nymph, and from the woods she hastens in accordance with her words, and strives to wind her arms around his neck. He flies from her and as he leaves her says, “Take off your hands! you shall not fold your arms around me. Better death than such a one should ever caress me!” Naught she answers save, “Caress me!” Thus rejected she lies hid in the deep woods, hiding her blushing face with the green leaves; and ever after lives concealed in lonely caverns in the hills. But her great love increases with neglect; her miserable body wastes away, wakeful with sorrows; leanness shrivels up her skin, and all her lovely features melt, as if dissolved upon the wafting winds— nothing remains except her bones and voice— her voice continues, in the wilderness; her bones have turned to stone. She lies concealed in the wild woods, nor is she ever seen on lonely mountain range; for, though we hear her calling in the hills, 'tis but a voice, a voice that lives, that lives among the hills. Thus he deceived the Nymph and many more, sprung from the mountains or the sparkling waves; and thus he slighted many an amorous youth.— and therefore, some one whom he once despised, lifting his hands to Heaven, implored the Gods, “If he should love deny him what he loves!” and as the prayer was uttered it was heard by Nemesis, who granted her assent. There was a fountain silver-clear and bright, which neither shepherds nor the wild she-goats, that range the hills, nor any cattle's mouth had touched—its waters were unsullied—birds disturbed it not; nor animals, nor boughs that fall so often from the trees. Around sweet grasses nourished by the stream grew; trees that shaded from the sun let balmy airs temper its waters. Here Narcissus, tired of hunting and the heated noon, lay down, attracted by the peaceful solitudes and by the glassy spring. There as he stooped to quench his thirst another thirst increased. While he is drinking he beholds himself reflected in the mirrored pool—and loves; loves an imagined body which contains no substance, for he deems the mirrored shade a thing of life to love. He cannot move, for so he marvels at himself, and lies with countenance unchanged, as if indeed a statue carved of Parian marble. Long, supine upon the bank, his gaze is fixed on his own eyes, twin stars; his fingers shaped as Bacchus might desire, his flowing hair as glorious as Apollo's, and his cheeks youthful and smooth; his ivory neck, his mouth dreaming in sweetness, his complexion fair and blushing as the rose in snow-drift white. All that is lovely in himself he loves, and in his witless way he wants himself:— he who approves is equally approved; he seeks, is sought, he burns and he is burnt. And how he kisses the deceitful fount; and how he thrusts his arms to catch the neck that's pictured in the middle of the stream! Yet never may he wreathe his arms around that image of himself. He knows not what he there beholds, but what he sees inflames his longing, and the error that deceives allures his eyes. But why, O foolish boy, so vainly catching at this flitting form? The cheat that you are seeking has no place. Avert your gaze and you will lose your love, for this that holds your eyes is nothing save the image of yourself reflected back to you. It comes and waits with you; it has no life; it will depart if you will only go.