The Classic Myths in English Literature and in Art (2nd ed.) (1911): Based Originally on Bulfinch's "Age of Fable" (1855)
John Stuart Mill · en
=61. Ægina.= The extent to which those who were concerned only
indirectly in Jupiter's love affairs might yet be involved in the
consequences of them is illustrated by the fortunes of Ægina. This
maiden, the daughter of Asopus, a river-god, attracted the attention
of Jupiter, who straightway ran off with her. Now, on the one hand,
Sisyphus, king of Corinth, having witnessed the intrigue, was
indiscreet enough to disclose it. Forthwith the vengeance of the
king of gods and men fell upon him. He was condemned to Hades and,
attempting to escape thence, had resort to a series of deceptions
that resulted in his eternal punishment.[73] On the other hand, the
inhabitants of the island that had the misfortune to bear Ægina's name
incurred the displeasure of Juno, who devastated their land with a
plague. The following account of this calamity is placed in the mouth
of Æacus, king of the island:[74]
"At the beginning the sky seemed to settle down upon the earth and
thick clouds shut in the heated air. For four months together a deadly
south wind prevailed. The disorder affected the wells and springs.
Thousands of snakes crept over the land and shed their poison in
the fountains. The force of the disease was first spent on the lower
animals,--dogs, cattle, sheep, and birds. The oxen fell in the midst of
their work. The wool dropped from the bleating sheep. The horse groaned
at his stall and died an inglorious death. Everything languished;
dead bodies lay in the roads, the fields, and the woods; the air was
poisoned by them. Next the disease attacked the country people, and
then the dwellers in the city. At first the cheek was flushed and the
breath drawn with difficulty. The tongue grew rough and swelled, and
the dry mouth stood open, with its veins enlarged, and gasped for the
air. Men could not bear the heat of their clothes or their beds, but
preferred to lie on the bare ground. Nor could the physicians help, for
the disease attacked them also. At last men learned to look upon death
as the only deliverer from disease. All restraint laid aside, they
crowded round the wells and fountains, and drank, without quenching
thirst, till they died. On all sides lay my people strewn like
over-ripened apples beneath the tree, or acorns under the storm-shaken
oak. You see yonder a temple on the height. It is sacred to Jupiter.
Often, while the priest made ready for sacrifice, the victim fell,
struck down by disease without waiting for the blow. At length all
reverence for sacred things was lost. Bodies were thrown out unburied,
wood was wanting for funeral piles, men fought with one another for the
possession of them. Finally there were none left to mourn; sons and
husbands, old men and youths, perished alike unlamented.
[Illustration: FARNESE BULL]