Cygnus (constellation)

Originally posted to Shrubbery, 4 Oct 2003

Phaeton was a youth who had grown up without a father, and because of this he took a great deal of ribbing from the other young men of the town. His best friend Cygnus always stepped up to defend him, saying, "perhaps we shall all be surprised by his lineage when it is known."

On his sixteenth birthday Phaeton's mother told him that as he was now no longer a boy she would grant him anything it was in her power to give. Phaeton thought for barely a moment before replying, "Mother, of all things on earth I would most like to know of my father. Why have you never spoken of him? Was he some thief or evil man of whom I should be ashamed?" "My boy," Clymene answered, "I'm far from being ashamed of your father and you shouldn't be either. I've only kept his name from you out of fear that you'd seek him out before the proper time. In truth, your father is none other than Phoebus, the god who drives the sun across the sky each day. It is now more than time that you should travel to his land and learn of your heritage, although I feel deep sadness at the thought of letting you go."

With that, Clymene outfitted her son for his journey to India, land of the sun. With barely a stop to say goodbye to Cygnus, Phaeton hurried on his way to finally meet his father.

The journey went quickly with such high spirits as his, and soon he found himself at the front door of the Palace of the Sun. The attendants there seemed to be expecting him, and he didn't even have to introduce himself before he was led in through the brightly polished golden doors. Once in the audience chamber he found the light to be so bright he could barely look around him.

Suddenly he heard a voice say, "you are welcome here, my son." The overwhelming light shifted somewhat as Phoebus removed the crown of sun rays from his head, set them aside, and came to embrace Phaeton. The father and son were soon getting to know each other over a tour of the fabulous palace followed by a feast literally fit for the gods.

"And now, son," said Phoebus after the meal had been cleared, "I see you have assumed the mantle of manhood. You need a gift worthy of the occasion, so I will offer anything you desire at this moment. I only ask that you choose wisely, for some gifts bring more trouble than pleasure."

Phaeton looked around him at the golden marvels of the palace, then said, "Father, I wish only one thing. All my life I have been made fun of for lacking a father. Prove me your true son and let me drive the Sun Chariot for one day. That will show all those people once and for all that I need not be ashamed of who I am."

Phoebus frowned deeply and begged his son to choose another gift. "Since I promised you anything you desire I must allow this, but be warned. The Sun Chariot is extremely hard to control and is pulled by divine horses who are barely tamed. The road across the sky is not clearly marked and is surrounded by all of the monsters that populate the stars. It isn't easy for me to drive the route, and I'm a god. It would be next to impossible for you, and I can't guarantee what might happen."

Phaeton wouldn't be dissuaded, though. His mind was full of the glory of driving the Sun across the sky. How everyone would stare and wonder! He insisted that the only thing he desired was to drive the chariot, and his father could do nothing but relent.

The next day the god struggled to hitch the nearly-wild horses to the gleaming chariot, all the while giving his son strict instructions on how to follow the path in the sky. Phaeton barely heard him, his head was so full of the thought of adventure. Finally it was time to begin. Phoebus showed Phaeton how to properly hold the reins, and the chariot was soon headed up into the sky.

At first Phaeton enjoyed the ride and the incredible view. The chariot bumped along its usual course, bringing sunrise to the world. Soon, though, the mischievous horses noticed that their normal load seemed much lighter. They decided to take a new course and started for the heavens.

As the horses ran toward the horrifying monsters of the sky Phaeton tried desperately to call them back to the path. The horses wouldn't obey their new master, however, and had soon dragged the Sun Chariot up so high that the plants and animals of the earth were beginning to freeze. Ice even formed upon the Mediterranean, freezing the fishes.

Now the horses took a new turn and barrelled toward the earth. Phaeton was terrified as he watched the ground come closer and closer but was powerless to do a thing about it. The Sun Chariot came so close to the earth that it scorched the Sahara into a desert and set entire mountains and forests afire. All living things were in danger of incineration, and even Poseidon in his ocean was beginning to boil. "Brother," he called out to Zeus, "if you are angry with me at least tell me why you have sent the Sun Chariot to destroy my kingdom!"

Zeus heard the cries of the Sea God and the people on earth and knew there was only one way to prevent a fiery death for all. He called for one of his thunderbolts and sent it flying straight toward the Sun Chariot, knocking it back to the path and sending Phaeton tumbling to the earth, his hair streaming with fire.

Faithful Cygnus had been watching his friend's sorry adventure, and when he saw Phaeton fall into the sea he swam out as fast as he could to try to save him. He dived down into the water again and again, hoping to find the spot where the youth had landed. Seeing that he was in danger of drowning himself and that he wasn't about to give up, Zeus took pity on him and changed him into the beautiful white bird that today we call the swan.

You can find him up in the summer sky to this day as a tribute to his faithfulness.