Phaethon, A Hero Of Bad Fortune

Helios, the god of the Day, had a famous son whose name was Phaethon.
Helios drove the chariot of the Sun through the heavens, and Phaethon
played by the sea-shore where his mother lived. She was a daughter of
Old Ocean and had many daughters of her own. Phaethon grew to be a
youth of great promise, but he had one fault, an excessive conceit.

When he had grown to be a young man he left his mother's home and went
to his father to receive the more manly instructions which belong to
those of heavenly descent. When he reached the wonderful palace of
Helios, which was built of gold and precious stones, he sat down and
rested near the glittering columns, his self-pride growing with the
thought of being one of the heirs to such an estate.

He rose and entered the silver gates which shone like mirrors. He
found Helios in the palace surrounded by a flood of light, sitting on
a throne shaped out of an emerald. To the right and left of Helios
stood Hemera (the Day), Men (the Month), Etos (the Year), the Æones
(the Seasons), and at equal distance from one another the Horæ
(Hours), and Ages unnumbered. There also stood Spring adorned by a
wreath of flowers, Summer with ears of grain in his hands, Autumn
laden with juicy fruits, and Winter with his white hair.

Phaethon halted in awe. But Helios, as soon as he perceived him,
welcomed him to his palace. He took the crown of golden rays from his
own head lest its dazzling splendor should blind the eyes of Phaethon,
and then called him to come nearer.

Phaethon approached with fear and trembling, but Helios called him his
son and reassured him with endearing words. When Phaethon's eyes had
grown somewhat accustomed to the blinding splendor, Helios said to him
with fatherly love: "What has brought my dear child into the heavenly
palace of his father? Surely this is hardly the place for anyone who
is accustomed to the cool earth."

Phaethon answered: "Oh, my royal father, I am very unhappy. I am the
subject of much gossip and derision. People taunt me because my
father lives in the heavens and does not abide in our home on earth.
They say that I am not thy son at all, and I have come to thee to get
the proof from thee that I am really thy son."

Now if Helios had lived upon earth everything would have been burned
up in the light of his glittering rays, but he felt sorry for his son
and said: "Thou art my dear son, indeed. I would gladly leave this
palace to come and abide in thy home by the sea. But I must drive the
chariot of the Day. Even the gods are not exempt from duty."

Then said Phaethon: "If thou art indeed my father, thou wilt grant me
the boon which I ask of thee." "Ask what thou wilt," replied Helios,
"and I swear to thee by the waters of the Styx, that I will give it to
thee."

Then Phaethon made answer: "Let me drive thy chariot for one day and
all these people who despise me will see that I am thy son."

Helios was dismayed when he heard the audacious and unexpected demand
of his son.

"What words hast thou spoken, my dear Phaethon!" he said. "Thou dost
ask for thine own destruction. Thou dost request a thing that no one
of the gods would dare to undertake, not even Zeus himself. No one
but myself is able to drive my chariot."

But Phaethon would not be persuaded. "Thou dost not love me, my
father," he said with tears. "I see that thou dost not love me. If
thou didst thou wouldst let me have thy chariot in order that the
whole world might see that I am indeed thy son."

"Foolish boy," responded Helios, "just because I love thee shall I let
thee destroy thyself? Ask any other boon but this."

"Nay, I want the chariot and nothing else," replied Phaethon.

Helios was stricken with grief, but he had bound himself by the Great
Oath of the Gods, which cannot be broken. He took Phaethon by the hand
and led him to his chariot and placed him in it.

The chariot was a wonderful piece of workmanship done by Hephæstos.
The seat and axle were made of gold. Golden also were the tires of the
wheels and the spokes were of silver.

While Phaethon was yet gazing with wonder at the glittering chariot of
his father, the rosy-fingered Dawn opened the dazzling gates of the
East, the stars, one after another, set--last of all the Morning Star,
and the light of the Moon died out.

Helios ordered the Hours to harness up his immortal steeds, which
were always fed on nectar and ambrosia. The Hours brought the horses
up from the stables and yoked them to the chariot. While this was done
Helios anointed the face of his son with heavenly oil, lest he might
be scorched by the fiery rays. Then he placed his radiant crown upon
Phaethon's head, and sighing bitterly, gave his son this parting
advice:

"My son, do not touch the horses with the whip, but hold on to the
reins with all thy might. The horses are impetuous and thou wilt find
it hard to hold them. Keep them well in hand when making the ascent as
well as in the descent. First thy course is steeply upward, and on the
other side it descends rapidly.

"Do not go near the earth lest thou burn it, and do not rise too high
or thou wilt set fire to the heavens. The twilight is waning. Go, my
son, for mortals are looking for the light of Helios. At the last
moment I pray thee to change thy mind and hand the reins to me."

But the son, exulting with joy, gathered up the reins, and taking
leave of his disconsolate father, boldly drove off.