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 the dreadful Styx, the river of the dead, I swear that I will give thee any gift that thou dost name and that will give proof that thy father is the immortal Apollo. But never to thee nor to any other, be he mortal or immortal, shall I grant the boon of driving my chariot."

But the boy pled on:

"I am shamed for ever, my father," he said. "Surely thou wouldst not have son of thine proved liar and braggart?"

"Not even the gods themselves can do this thing," answered Apollo. "Nay, not even the almighty Zeus. None but I, Phœbus Apollo, may drive the flaming chariot of the sun, for the way is beset with dangers and none know it but I."

"Only tell me the way, my father!" cried Phaeton. "So soon I could learn."

Half in sadness, Apollo smiled.

"The first part of the way is uphill," he said. "So steep it is that only very slowly can my horses climb it. High in the heavens is the middle, so high that even I grow dizzy when I look down upon the earth and the sea. And the last piece of the way is a precipice that rushes so steeply downward that my hands can scarce check the mad rush of my galloping horses. And all the while, the heaven is spinning round, and the stars with it. By the horns of the Bull I have to drive, past the Archer whose bow is taut and ready to slay, close to where the Scorpion stretches out its arms and the great Crab's claws grope for a prey.…"

"I fear none of these things, oh my father!" cried