The Classic Myths in English Literature and in Art (2nd ed.) (1911): Based Originally on Bulfinch's "Age of Fable" (1855)Bulfinch, Thomas
Philosophy
The Classic Myths in English Literature and in Art (2nd ed.) (1911): Based Originally on Bulfinch's "Age of Fable" (1855)
Bulfinch, Thomas
English poetry; Mythology, Classical; Mythology, Norse
=159. The Loss of Hylas.=[220] In the Argonautic adventure Hercules was
attended by a lad, Hylas, whom he tenderly loved and on whose account
he deserted the expedition in Mysia; for Hylas had been stolen by the
Naiads.
... Never was Heracles apart from Hylas, not when midnoon was
high in heaven, not when Dawn with her white horses speeds
upwards to the dwelling of Zeus, not when the twittering
nestlings look towards the perch, while their mother flaps her
wings above the smoke-browned beam; and all this that the lad
might be fashioned to his mind, and might drive a straight
furrow, and come to the true measure of man....
And Hylas of the yellow hair, with a vessel of bronze in his
hand, went to draw water against supper-time for Heracles himself
and the steadfast Telamon, for these comrades twain supped ever
at one table. Soon was he ware of a spring in a hollow land,
and the rushes grew thickly round it, and dark swallowwort,
and green maidenhair, and blooming parsley, and deer grass
spreading through the marshy land. In the midst of the water
the nymphs were arranging their dances,--the sleepless nymphs,
dread goddesses of the country people, Eunice, and Malis, and
Nycheia, with her April eyes. And now the boy was holding out
the wide-mouthed pitcher to the water, intent on dipping it; but
the nymphs all clung to his hand, for love of the Argive lad had
fluttered the soft hearts of all of them. Then down he sank into
the black water, headlong all, as when a star shoots flaming from
the sky, plumb in the deep it falls; and a mate shouts out to the
seamen, "Up with the gear, my lads, the wind is fair for sailing."
Then the nymphs held the weeping boy on their laps, and with
gentle words were striving to comfort him. But the son of
Amphitryon was troubled about the lad, and went forth, carrying
his bended bow in Scythian fashion, and the club that is ever
grasped in his right hand. Thrice he shouted, "Hylas!" as loud as
his deep throat could call, and thrice again the boy heard him,
and thrice came his voice from the water, and, hard by though
he was, he seemed very far away. And as when a bearded lion, a
ravening lion on the hills, hears the bleating of a fawn afar off
and rushes forth from his lair to seize it, his readiest meal,
even so the mighty Heracles, in longing for the lad, sped through
the trackless briars and ranged over much country.
Reckless are lovers: great toils did Heracles bear, in hills
and thickets wandering; and Jason's quest was all postponed to
this....
Thus loveliest Hylas is numbered with the Blessed; but for a
runaway they girded at Heracles--the heroes--because he roamed
from Argo of the sixty oarsmen. But on foot he came to Colchis
and inhospitable Phasis.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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