Page:Once a Week Volume V.djvu/218

. 17, 1861.] published first in the Revue den Deux Mondes, under the title of “Les Dieux en Exil,” has described the fate of the banished gods.

Apollo acted as head shepherd somewhere in Lower Austria, until betrayed by the exquisite beauty of his songs, he confessed his divine character on the rack, and was accordingly put to death.

Mars, true to his vocation, after various changes, was last seen in the dress of a German Landsknecht, cutting and thrusting, at the sack of Rome, under the gallant Condottiere Frundsberg.

Bacchus entered the ecclesiastical profession, as a jolly fat monk; at the recurrence of the summer solstice he may still be seen, with his fat friend Silenus, and a riotous crew, brandishing the thyrsus amid the dancing Corybantes.

Poor old Jupiter! His fate is terrible. Banished to an island in the North Sea, called the Island of Rabbits, he sits, withered, old, and decrepit, attended only by a lean, featherless eagle, the picture of grim despair; glad to pick up news from a chance whaler.

Mercury, in the disguise of a Dutch merchant, acts as supercargo for the transit of departed souls across the North Seas; and Diana, true to her old vocation, follows in the train of the Wild Huntsman.

Venus, after the destruction of her temples, took refuge, with a licentious crew of nymphs, in an enchanted mountain, called the Mons Veneris, where she spends her time in riotous living. Woe to the rash, who, allured by the sound of music and revelry, seek her attractive court. For them there is no escape. Pleasure may pall, conscience may awaken, but the captive knight cannot break his bonds, and escape from the arms of the vengeful goddess. This fate befel the noble Tannhäuser, whose adventures are told in a quaint old ballad, written apparently shortly after the Reformation. We have ventured to give a literal translation.

folks, now listen to my song, ’Tis of a noble knight, And of the wondrous life he led With Lady Venus bright.

This worthy knight, Tannhäuser, longed Great marvels for to see, And in the hill of Venus sought Fair women’s company.

I love you passing well,” she said; “You may not seek to flee,— You swore upon your soul,” she said, Never to part from me.”

Dame Venus, I never sware that oath: My love for you is past; I trust in Heaven’s mercy now To save my soul at last.”

What can you mean, Sir Tannhäuser? O, spend with us your life! My fairest playmate I’ll give to you To be your wedded wife.”