Chapter 3

Chapter III
Io and Callisto. Diana and Actaeon. The Story of Phaeton Jupiter and Juno, although husband and wife, did not live
together very happily. Jupiter did not love his wife very much,
and Juno distrusted her husband, and was always accusing him of
unfaithfulness. One day she perceived that it suddenly grew
dark, and immediately suspected that her husband had raised a
cloud to hide some of his doings that would not bear the light.
She brushed away the cloud, and saw her husband, on the banks of
a glassy river, with a beautiful heifer standing near him. Juno
suspected that the heifer's form concealed some fair nymph of
mortal mould. This was indeed the case; for it was Io, the
daughter of the river god Inachus, whom Jupiter had been flirting
with, and, when he became aware of the approach of his wife, had
changed into that form. Juno joined her husband, and noticing the heifer, praised its
beauty, and asked whose it was, and of what herd. Jupiter, to
stop questions, replied that it was a fresh creation from the
earth. Juno asked to have it as a gift. What could Jupiter do?
He was loth to give his mistress to his wife; yet how refuse so
trifling a present as a simple heifer? He could not, without
arousing suspicion; so he consented. The goddess was not yet
relieved of her suspicions; and she delivered the heifer to
Argus, to be strictly watched. Now Argus had a hundred eyes in his head, and never went to sleep
with more than two at a time, so that he kept watch of Io
constantly. He suffered her to feed through the day, and at
night tied her up with a vile rope round her neck. She would
have stretched out her arms to implore freedom of Argus, but she
had no arms to stretch out, and her voice was a bellow that
frightened even herself. She saw her father and her sisters, went
near them, and suffered them to pat her back, and heard them
admire her beauty. Her father reached her a tuft o gras, and she
licked the outstretched hand. She longed to make herself known
to him, and would have uttered her wish; but, alas! words were
wanting. At length she bethought herself of writing, and
inscribed her name it was a short one with her hoof on the
sand. Inachus recognized it, and discovering that his daughter,
whom he had long sought in vain, was hidden under this disguise,
mourned over her, and, embracing her white neck, exclaimed,
"Alas! My daughter, it would have been a less grief to have lost
you altogether!" While he thus lamented, Argus, observing, came
and drove her away, and took his seat on a high bank, whence he
could see in every direction. Jupiter was troubled at beholding the sufferings of his mistress,
and calling Mercury, told him to go and despatch Argus. Mercury
made haste, put his