Poor Phaeton, looking down on the earth, grew pale and shook with
terror. He wished that he had never seen these shining steeds, had never
sought the palace of the Sun, and that he had never held his father to
that rash promise.
Diana, who drives the chariot of the Moon, heard the mad racket in the
sky, and shooting her arrows at the frightened horses, turned them aside
in time to prevent them from dashing her own silver car to pieces.
Earth cried for clouds and rain. The people of Africa became black
because of the terrible heat. Streams dried up, mountains burned, and
the River Nile hid his head forever in a desert. At last Earth cried in
a husky voice to Jupiter, the ruler of the gods:
"What have I done that this punishment should come? Slay me, or save my
people from this burning!"
[Illustration: PHAETON FALLING FROM THE CHARIOT]
Jupiter, from his seat in the thunderclouds, saw the danger the
heavens and the earth were in, and hurled his lightnings at the rash
driver. Phaeton fell dead from the chariot. From morning till night,
and from that night till morning, he fell like a shooting star, and
sank at last into an Italian river. His sisters trembled so at his
fall and wept so bitterly that they changed into poplar trees upon the
river banks.
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