Regia Solis erat sublimibus alta columnis,
clara micante auro flammasque imitante pyropo,
cuius ebur nitidum fastigia summa tegebat,
argenti bifores radiabant lumine valvae.
materiam superabat opus: nam Mulciber illic 5
aequora caelarat medias cingentia terras
terrarumque orbem caelumque, quod imminet orbi.
caeruleos habet unda deos, Tritona canorum
Proteaque ambiguum ballaenarumque prementem
Aegaeona suis inmania terga lacertis 10
Doridaque et natas, quarum pars nare videtur,
pars in mole sedens viridis siccare capillos,
pisce vehi quaedam: facies non omnibus una,
non diversa tamen, qualem decet esse sororum.
terra viros urbesque gerit silvasque ferasque 15
fluminaque et nymphas et cetera numina ruris.
haec super inposita est caeli fulgentis imago,
signaque sex foribus dextris totidemque sinistris.
Quo simul adclivi Clymeneia limite proles
venit et intravit dubitati tecta parentis, 20
protinus ad patrios sua fert vestigia vultus
consistitque procul; neque enim propiora ferebat
lumina: purpurea velatus veste sedebat
in solio Phoebus claris lucente smaragdis.
a dextra laevaque Dies et Mensis et Annus 25
Saeculaque et positae spatiis aequalibus Horae
Verque novum stabat cinctum florente corona,
stabat nuda Aestas et spicea serta gerebat,
stabat et Autumnus calcatis sordidus uvis
et glacialis Hiems canos hirsuta capillos. 30
Ipse loco medius rerum novitate paventem
Sol oculis iuvenem, quibus adspicit omnia, vidit
‘quae’ que ‘viae tibi causa? quid hac’ ait ‘arce petisti,
progenies, Phaethon, haud infitianda parenti?’
ille refert: ‘o lux inmensi publica mundi, 35
Phoebe pater, si das usum mihi nominis huius,
nec falsa Clymene culpam sub imagine celat,
pignora da, genitor, per quae tua vera propago
credar, et hunc animis errorem detrahe nostris!’
dixerat, at genitor circum caput omne micantes 40
deposuit radios propiusque accedere iussit
amplexuque dato ‘nec tu meus esse negari
dignus es, et Clymene veros’ ait ‘edidit ortus,
quoque minus dubites, quodvis pete munus, ut illud
me tribuente feras! promissi testis adesto 45
dis iuranda palus, oculis incognita nostris!’
vix bene desierat, currus rogat ille paternos
inque diem alipedum ius et moderamen equorum.
Paenituit iurasse patrem: qui terque quaterque
concutiens inlustre caput ‘temeraria’ dixit 50
‘vox mea facta tua est; utinam promissa liceret
non dare! confiteor, solum hoc tibi, nate, negarem.
dissuadere licet: non est tua tuta voluntas!
magna petis, Phaethon, et quae nec viribus istis
munera conveniant nec tam puerilibus annis: 55
sors tua mortalis, non est mortale, quod optas.
plus etiam, quam quod superis contingere possit,
nescius adfectas; placeat sibi quisque licebit,
non tamen ignifero quisquam consistere in axe
me valet excepto; vasti quoque rector Olympi, 60
qui fera terribili iaculatur fulmina dextra,
non agat hos currus: et quid Iove maius habemus?
ardua prima via est et qua vix mane recentes
enituntur equi; medio est altissima caelo,
unde mare et terras ipsi mihi saepe videre 65
fit timor et pavida trepidat formidine pectus;
ultima prona via est et eget moderamine certo:
tunc etiam quae me subiectis excipit undis,
ne ferar in praeceps, Tethys solet ipsa vereri.
adde, quod adsidua rapitur vertigine caelum 70
sideraque alta trahit celerique volumine torquet.
nitor in adversum, nec me, qui cetera, vincit
inpetus, et rapido contrarius evehor orbi.
finge datos currus: quid ages? poterisne rotatis
obvius ire polis, ne te citus auferat axis? 75
forsitan et lucos illic urbesque deorum
concipias animo delubraque ditia donis
esse: per insidias iter est formasque ferarum!
utque viam teneas nulloque errore traharis,
per tamen adversi gradieris cornua tauri 80
Haemoniosque arcus violentique ora Leonis
saevaque circuitu curvantem bracchia longo
Scorpion atque aliter curvantem bracchia Cancrum.
nec tibi quadripedes animosos ignibus illis,
quos in pectore habent, quos ore et naribus efflant, 85
in promptu regere est: vix me patiuntur, ubi acres
incaluere animi cervixque repugnat habenis.—
at tu, funesti ne sim tibi muneris auctor,
nate, cave, dum resque sinit tua corrige vota!
scilicet ut nostro genitum te sanguine credas, 90
pignora certa petis: do pignora certa timendo
et patrio pater esse metu probor. adspice vultus
ecce meos; utinamque oculos in pectora posses
inserere et patrias intus deprendere curas!
denique quidquid habet dives, circumspice, mundus 95
eque tot ac tantis caeli terraeque marisque
posce bonis aliquid; nullam patiere repulsam.
deprecor hoc unum, quod vero nomine poena,
non honor est: poenam, Phaethon, pro munere poscis!
quid mea colla tenes blandis, ignare, lacertis? 100
ne dubita! dabitur (Stygias iuravimus undas),
quodcumque optaris; sed tu sapientius opta!’
Finierat monitus; dictis tamen ille repugnat
propositumque premit flagratque cupidine currus.
ergo, qua licuit, genitor cunctatus ad altos 105
deducit iuvenem, Vulcania munera, currus.
aureus axis erat, temo aureus, aurea summae
curvatura rotae, radiorum argenteus ordo;
per iuga chrysolithi positaeque ex ordine gemmae
clara repercusso reddebant lumina Phoebo. 110
Dumque ea magnanimus Phaethon miratur opusque
perspicit, ecce vigil nitido patefecit ab ortu
purpureas Aurora fores et plena rosarum
atria: diffugiunt stellae, quarum agmina cogit
Lucifer et caeli statione novissimus exit. 115
Quem petere ut terras mundumque rubescere vidit
cornuaque extremae velut evanescere lunae,
iungere equos Titan velocibus imperat Horis.
iussa deae celeres peragunt ignemque vomentes,
ambrosiae suco saturos, praesepibus altis 120
quadripedes ducunt adduntque sonantia frena.
tum pater ora sui sacro medicamine nati
contigit et rapidae fecit patientia flammae
inposuitque comae radios praesagaque luctus
pectore sollicito repetens suspiria dixit: 125
The palace of the Sun stood high on lofty columns, bright with glittering gold and bronze that shone like fire. Gleaming ivory crowned the gables above; the double folding-doors were radiant with burnished silver. And the workmanship was more beautiful than the material. For upon the doors Mulciber had carved in relief the waters that enfold the central earth, the circle of the lands and the sky that overhangs the lands. The sea holds the dark-hued gods: tuneful Triton, changeful Proteus, and Aegaeon, his strong arms thrown over a pair of huge whales; Doris and her daughters, some of whom are shown swimming through the water, some sitting on a rock drying their green hair, and some riding on fishes. They have not all the same appearance, and yet not altogether different; as it should be with sisters. The land has men and cities, woods and beasts, rivers, nymphs and other rural deities. Above these scenes was placed a representation of the shining sky, six signs of the zodiac on the right-hand doors, and six signs on the left.
Now when Clymene’s son had climbed the steep path which leads thither, and had come beneath the roof of his sire whose fatherhood had been questioned, straightway he turned him to his father’s face, but halted some little space away; for he could not bear the radiance at a nearer view. Clad in a purple robe, Phoebus sat on his throne gleaming with brilliant emeralds. To right and left stood Day and Month and Year and Century, and the Hours set at equal distances. Young Spring was there, wreathed with a floral crown; Summer, all unclad with garland of ripe grain; Autumn was there, stained with the trodden grape, and icy Winter with white and bristly locks.
Seated in the midst of these, the Sun, with the eyes which behold all things, looked on the youth filled with terror at the strange new sights, and said: “Why hast thou come? What seekest thou in this high dwelling, Phaëthon—a son no father need deny?” The lad replied: “O common of this light vast universe, Phoebus, my father, if thou grantest me the right to use that name, if Clymene is not hiding her shame beneath an unreal pretence, grant me a proof, my father, by which all may know me for thy true son, and take away this uncertainty from my mind.” He spoke; and his father put off his glittering crown of light, and bade the boy draw nearer. Embracing him, he said: “Thou art both worthy to be called my son, and Clymene has told thee thy true origin. And, that thou mayst not doubt my word, ask what boon thou wilt, that thou mayst receive it from my hand. And may that Stygian pool whereby gods swear, but which mine eyes have never seen, be witness of my promise.” Scarce had he ceased when the boy asked for his father’s chariot, and the right to drive his winged horses for a day.
The father repented him of his oath. Thrice and again he shook his bright head and said: “Thy words have proved mine to have been rashly said. Would that I might retract my promise! For I confess, my son, that this alone would I refuse thee. But I may at least strive to dissuade thee. What thou desirest is not safe. Thou askest too great a boon, Phaëthon, and one which does not befit thy strength and those so boyish years. Thy lot is mortal: not for mortals is that thou askest. In thy simple ignorance thou dost claim more than can be granted to the gods themselves. Though each of them may do as he will, yet none, save myself, has power to take his place in my chariot of fire. Nay, even the lord of great Olympus, who hurls dread thunderbolts with his awful hand, could not drive this chariot; and what have we greater than Jove? The first part of the road is steep, up which my steeds in all their morning freshness can scarce make their way. In mid-heaven it is exceeding high, whence to look down on sea and land oft-times causes even me to tremble, and my heart to quake with throbbing fear. The last part of the journey is precipitous, and needs an assured control. Then even Tethys, who receives me in her underlying waters, is wont to fear lest I fall head-long. Furthermore, the vault of heaven spins round in constant motion, drawing along the lofty stars which it whirls at dizzy speed. I make my way against this, nor does the swift motion which over- comes all else overcome me but I drive clear contrary to the swift circuit of the universe. Suppose thou hast my chariot. What wilt thou do? Wilt thou be able to make thy way against the whirling poles that their swift axis sweep thee not away? Perhaps, too, thou deemest there are groves there, and cities of the gods, and temples full of rich gifts? Nay, the course lies amid lurking dangers and fierce beasts of prey. And though thou shouldst hold the way, and not go straying from the course, still shalt thou pass the horned Bull full in thy path, the Haemonian Archer, the maw of the raging Lion, the Scorpion, curving his savage arms in long sweeps, and the Crab, reaching out in the opposite direction. Nor is it an easy thing for thee to control the steeds, hot with those strong fires which they have within their breasts, which they breathe out from mouth and nostrils. Scarce do they suffer my control, when their fierce spirits have become heated, and their necks rebel against the reins. But do thou, O son, beware lest I be the giver of a fatal gift to thee, and while still there is time amend thy prayer. Dost thou in sooth seek sure pledges that thou art son of mine? Behold, I give sure pledges by my very fear; I show myself thy father by my fatherly anxiety. See! look upon my face. And oh, that thou couldst look into my heart as well, and understand a father’s cares therein! Then look around, see all that the rich world holds, and from those great and boundless goods of land and sea and sky ask anything. Nothing will I deny thee. But this one thing I beg thee not to ask, which, if rightly understood, is a bane instead of blessing. A bane, my Phaethon, dost thou seek as boon. Why dost thou throw thy coaxing arms about my neck, thou foolish boy? Nay, doubt it not, it shall be given—we have sworn it by the Styx—whatever thou dost choose. But, oh, make wiser choice!”
The father’s warning ended; yet he fought against the words, and urged his first request, burning with desire to drive the chariot. So then the father, delaying as far as might be, led forth the youth to that high chariot, the work of Vulcan. Its axle was of gold, the pole of gold; its wheels had golden tyres and a ring of silver spokes. Along the yoke chrysolites and jewels set in fair array gave back their bright glow to the reflected rays of Phoebus.
Now while the ambitious Phaëthon is gazing in wonder at the workmanship, behold, Aurora, who keeps watch in the reddening dawn, has opened wide her purple gates, and her courts glowing with rosy light. The stars all flee away, and the morning star closes their ranks as, last of all, he departs from his watch-tower in the sky.
When Titan saw him setting and the world grow red, and the slender horns of the waning moon fading from sight, he bade the swift Hours to yoke his steeds. The goddesses quickly did his bidding, and led the horses from the lofty stalls, breathing forth fire and filled with ambrosial food, and they put upon them the clanking bridles. Then the father anointed his so’s face with a sacred ointment, and made it proof against the devouring flames; and he placed upon his head the radiant crown, heaving deep sighs the while, presaging woe, and said: