The nurse was evidently delighted at Semele's happiness, but seemed worried over the new suitor's identity, and now and then expressed a doubt as to whether he really was the great Jupiter. On questioning the maiden more closely, she assumed a virtuous indignation when Semele admitted that her lover always visited her in the disguise of a mortal, and that she had only his word as proof of his divinity. Hearing this, the old woman urged Semele to make sure that it was no impostor who was playing on her credulity, and pricked the girl's pride by asking her why it was that Jupiter--if it were indeed he--should not honor her as he did the stately Juno by appearing before her in all his splendid majesty. Then the pretended nurse described the glory of Jupiter as it was seen by the dwellers in Olympus, and finally so worked upon Semele's pride and curiosity that the unsuspicious maiden promised to put her lover to the test. So when Jupiter came again, she begged him to grant her a favor, and the ruler of the gods, not knowing of Juno's wiles, readily promised to grant any request Semele might make. To further bind himself, he swore by the river Styx--the most terrible of all oaths. Then the maiden bade him return to Olympus, clothe himself in all his regal apparel--omitting no part of his terrible splendor, not even the dreaded thunderbolts--and having done this, return to her, that she might know he was indeed the awful Thunderer. Jupiter was dismayed at this request, for he knew that no mortal could endure the greatness of his glory. He begged Semele to ask another boon; but the maiden was obstinate, and insisted upon her request being granted. Sorrowfully Jupiter returned to Olympus, and after robing himself in his fearful majesty, he dimmed the radiance wherever he could, wrapped about him the mildest lightning, and took in his hand the feeblest thunderbolt. "To keep his promise he ascends, and shrouds His awful brow in whirlwinds and in clouds; Whilst all around, in terrible array, His thunders rattle, and his lightnings play. * * * * * Thus dreadfully adorned with horror bright The illustrous god, descending from his height, Came rushing on her in a storm of light." --ADDISON'S Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, Book III, line 302. But in spite of his attempt to lessen his splendor, even this mild glory so overwhelmed poor Semele that when Jupiter appeared before her, she dropped dead at his feet. In trying vainly to bring her back to life, Jupiter did not notice what havoc the lightning, that played about his head, was making in the palace. In a short time the whole place was reduced to ashes, and in the smouldering ruins the body of Semele was consumed. The only person who escaped uninjured was the infant son of Jupiter and Semele, the golden-haired Bacchus.[55]