One stormy evening, long ago, in the mythical days of the gods and heroes of the Ancients, a poor peasant named Philemon and his wife, Baucis, were resting peacefully in their humble cottage, where they had lived together for many years of happy wedded life. They were now growing old; but although the shadows of life's eventide were fast deepening around them, they did not waste their remaining days in uttering vain regrets after departed youth, because the love in their hearts was as fresh and green as ever, and happiness was still theirs, in spite of poverty and old age.
As they sat together in the twilight this evening, whilst the sound of the gathering storm without came every now and again to their ears, they were rejoicing with each other because of the joy that yet remained to them. Though they could no longer join in the merry dances and wild pleasures of the gay young folks around them, that fact did not trouble them at all, since contentment was theirs; and they declared to one another that even in the days of their youth they were not happier than now in their old age, for, as the years went on, the love in their faithful hearts grew deeper and stronger than ever. Since they enjoyed such perfect love and harmony, they did not envy the careless youths and maidens, but resigned themselves cheerfully to old age, knowing well that life would be sweet to the very end whilst love remained to them.
Thus did the contented old couple talk happily together until darkness fell; and not even a band of merry Bacchantes who presently danced past the cottage door, on wildest revels bent, could draw from either a sigh of regret for the lost pleasures of youth.
When, however, the song of the Bacchantes had died away in the distance, Baucis declared that it was now time for the evening meal, and went into an inner room to prepare the humble food that was sweeter to them than the luxuries of the rich, since it was procured by their own honest labour, and seasoned with love.
When she had gone, Philemon busied himself by making the fire burn more brightly; and whilst engaged in this homely task, he was interrupted by an imperative knock at the cottage door. By this time the storm was raging with great violence; and when, upon opening the door, he was accosted by two strangers who craved shelter from the wind and rain, Philemon at once invited them to enter, being distressed that travellers should be out on such a wild night.
Now, though the poor peasant little guessed it, these two strangers were in reality Jupiter, the Father of the Gods, and Vulcan, the God of Fire and master of the workers in metal, who were visiting the earth thus disguised in order to bring punishment upon certain disobedient mortals who had offended them. Having, however, been overtaken by this terrible storm, brought about by Jupiter's own commands as his means of punishment, they had sought refuge at the first homestead they came to, hoping that the owner might grant them shelter, and thus prove himself to be more worthy than his neighbours, upon whom the angry god's vengeance was now about to fall.
Their hopes were realised; for Philemon received them with great kindness and hospitality, leading them to the warm hearthstone, where he proceeded to divest them of their wet cloaks, declaring it was a delight to him to welcome guests whom the gods must surely have sent.
Jupiter was very well pleased at this reception; but Vulcan, being in an exceeding ill-humour, and still smarting from the recent intrigues of his beautiful wife Venus with the gods Mars and Mercury, only grumbled and growled at having been dragged from his accustomed work against his will, and even called down curses upon the gods who were the cause of his domestic woes and of his present plight. Upon hearing this, Philemon, being a devout upholder of the honour of the gods whom he served so faithfully, sternly reproved the stranger for thus speaking irreverently of the great Immortals; but Jupiter laughingly bade the peasant not to heed the ill-humour of his companion, who was in a strange mood that night.
Philemon, having thus extended a hearty welcome to his unexpected guests, retired to the inner room to help his wife prepare a repast for them; and when he had departed on this hospitable errand, Jupiter began to rally Vulcan on his gloomy looks and sulky temper. But the cross-grained, deformed god was not to be pacified, and declared that he preferred to be left working with his faithful Cyclops in his subterranean forges, where no one dared to poke fun at him for his ill-humours and ugly appearance, and where he was not plagued by the sight of his faithless wife bestowing her bewitching smiles on other admirers.
Whilst Jupiter was laughing over his companion's complaints, and gaily bidding him not to care for aught done by one so fair and fickle, Baucis entered the room, bearing a jug full of goat's milk, which she placed before the visitors, saying that Philemon would shortly follow with ripe fruits, which he was even now gathering in the garden. Being even better pleased with the cheerful, kindly looks of Baucis, Jupiter entered into conversation with her; and when, on questioning her as to the reason of her evident contentment and happiness, she replied that this was due to the all-absorbing love that she and her husband had for each other, which made them count poverty and old age as nothing, he was filled with amazement.
"What!" he exclaimed. "You can still talk of love, even now that you are growing old?"
"Oh, yes," answered Baucis, with a smile of pure joy. "For love has been the guiding star of our simple lives; and now that our days are drawing to a close, our only regret is that we cannot start over again, and tread the same sweet path side by side a second time!"
At this moment, Philemon returned with a basket of fine ripe fruit from the garden, and a vessel of sparkling water from the spring; and placing these on the table beside the goat's milk, he invited his guests to draw near and partake of the humble food, which was, nevertheless, the best that his poor home could offer.
Jupiter, delighted at the gracious hospitality of the good old couple, gladly accepted the invitation; and having drained the vessel of water to satisfy his own thirst, he bade Baucis to fill out yet another cupful from the now empty flagon, for Vulcan. Baucis was greatly surprised at the strange bidding; but on receiving the command from Jupiter a second time, she inclined the empty vessel, and to her utter astonishment a stream of rich red wine immediately flowed into the goblet!
The poor peasants now knew that their strange guests were not ordinary mortals, and were in some fear as to who they might really be; but Jupiter, though still retaining his incognito, quickly reassured them, saying that he and his companion had been sent by the gods to bring dire punishment on the disobedient mortals in that neighbourhood who had offended them. He then bade them listen to the terrific thunderstorm which was now raging, and which would certainly destroy those on whom the gods' vengeance was to fall; but when the old couple began to tremble for their own safety, he told them to be of good comfort, since they should be spared, because of the hospitality and kindness they had shown to two travellers in distress. He then bade the wondering pair to lie down in peace, and rest securely until the morning, when they should awaken to reap the reward of their good deed.
Philemon and Baucis, now feeling a delicious drowsiness creeping over their senses, obeyed the god's authoritative command, and gladly laid themselves down to sleep; and then, as they sank into a peaceful slumber, Jupiter cast a magic spell over them, by means of which their beautiful youth was completely restored to them, and their humble cottage at the same moment transformed into a noble palace.
When morning dawned, the gods retired for awhile, that the rejuvenated pair might make their wonderful discovery alone. Baucis was the first to awaken; and, surprised at an unusual exhilaration of spirits, and at feeling the blood coursing merrily through her veins as in the days of her youth, she sprang to her feet and exclaimed as she now beheld the new grandeur around her, "I must be dreaming!" Then, on approaching her still sleeping husband, she was amazed to find him young and handsome as in the days of yore, when he had first won her love; and running to the mirror, her joy was complete when its reflection showed her that she also was now restored to beautiful youth, and was even fairer still than in the early flush of maidenhood long years ago!
"Philemon! Philemon! awake, my love, and rejoice!" she cried in delight; and when Philemon arose immediately at the sound of her sweet young voice, he also was astonished to find himself within a palatial mansion, and was utterly bewildered at the sight of the lovely maiden before him.
"Who art thou, fair one?" he asked in awestruck tones. "Thou art beautiful as my beloved Baucis was in the days of her youth!"
But Baucis held the mirror up before his eyes, and bade him look at his own reflection; and when Philemon saw that he also had regained his handsome youth, his joy was unbounded.
The happy pair now knew that this marvellous transformation must have been brought about by the influence of the gods, whose messengers they had entertained the previous evening; and overcome with gratitude and joy that the passion and delight of their youthful love was thus restored to them, they fell into each other's arms and rapturously embraced. The wondrous love of these two faithful hearts, though it had clung to them even in old age, had of necessity run in a calmer stream with advancing years; but now with youth and beauty once more before them, it flooded their hearts afresh with renewed life, and the all-absorbing desires and sweet joys of old again held them under magic sway.
For long the happy lovers rejoiced together in perfect bliss, regardless of time and heedless of the whole world; and then Baucis, growing suddenly timid and shy, broke coquettishly away from the embrace of Philemon, and ran laughing out into the open air, to hide in the groves beyond.
As Philemon turned to follow her, the god Vulcan appeared in the doorway of the palace; and on beholding one whom he felt to be his benefactor, the grateful peasant fell on his knees before him and tendered his grateful thanks. Vulcan, however, was still sulky and ill-tempered, and so gruffly bade him keep his thanks to himself, since the sight of one so happy in his love filled him with envy; nor was he any better pleased when Philemon innocently expressed the desire that a faithful loving wife might also fall to his benefactor's share, for the alluring glances of his fickle Venus were more frequently bestowed on other lovers than on himself! Philemon soon left the taciturn god to his own devices, and ran off in pursuit of Baucis; and shortly afterwards Jupiter appeared, and questioned his companion as to whether the peasants were satisfied with their changed lot.
Vulcan replied in an aggrieved tone that they seemed to be very much in love with one another; and presently catching sight of Baucis hiding amidst the bushes, he bade Jupiter to look on his own handiwork. Now, when Jupiter beheld the lovely maiden as she mischievously sped from tree to tree to avoid her fond pursuer, he was so enthralled with her sweet fresh beauty, that he suddenly desired to possess her for himself; and, god-like, he at once sought the means of gratifying his desire.
After giving vent to an extravagant outburst of admiration for this new object of his fickle fancy, he began to persuade Vulcan to keep Philemon engaged for awhile; and presently the God of Iron departed on this thankless mission, leaving Jupiter free to go in search of Baucis.
In a very short time, Jupiter came face to face with the lovely maiden, and began to address her in tones of admiration, at the same time giving her to understand his high estate; and when Baucis knew that it was the great god Jupiter to whom she was indebted for her restored youth, and who now graciously condescended to speak with her, she was so overcome that she sank humbly to her knees, trembling with fear. But Jupiter gently raised her from the ground, reassuring her in tender accents; and more and more enthralled by the maiden's exquisite loveliness, he began to pour forth passionate protestations of love, even imploring her to accept his overtures.
At first, Baucis repulsed him, shrinking back with frightened mien; but at length her timidity was overcome, and with a feeling of pardonable pride that her beauty was sufficient to cause even the Master of the Gods himself to plead for her love, she began to enjoy the situation, and even to coquette with her exalted admirer. So, when Jupiter, pleased with this first success, went further still, and next boldly demanded the kiss that had been promised to Philemon, the maiden, having gone thus far, dared not refuse, for fear of offending the great god; but just at this moment, Philemon himself appeared on the scene, and was filled with amazement and indignation at beholding his beautiful wife in the arms of the stranger he had entertained the night before.
Baucis, quickly brought back to her senses by this timely interruption, instantly ran to her husband's side, begging him to curb his wrath until she could explain the matter to him; but Philemon's anger was not to be restrained, and he broke forth into passionate reproaches. Jupiter, though furious that Vulcan's carelessness should have caused this unwelcome interruption to his enjoyment, thought it prudent to retire for awhile; and when he had departed, Philemon's torrent of reproaches fell faster than ever. Even when Baucis explained that it was the Immortal Jupiter who had thus honoured her with his admiration, and whom he himself had addressed so roughly, the angry young peasant was not pacified, though he felt he was certainly doomed to destruction for crossing the pleasure of the mighty god; and he still continued to pour forth such scornful words, that Baucis also grew angry, and began to return his reproaches with equal passion.
Into the midst of this quarrel came Vulcan, who tried to make peace between them, grimly bidding Philemon to be of good cheer, since a matter of this sort was considered a mere trifle up in Olympus, where faithlessness in love was rather the rule than the exception; and he added that the fair daughters of earth were not likely to excel where goddesses failed.
But Philemon was not to be satisfied with any such doubtful comfort as this; and at last, in a paroxysm of anger, he overturned the household gods, which, in the form of statuettes, adorned his new abode, and then rushed wildly forth into the open air.
Baucis now began to weep bitterly, full of remorse that she should have so carelessly grieved the heart of her faithful Philemon; for, though a natural passing feeling of vanity in her re-born beauty had led her to be pleased with the admiration of the great god, yet her love for her husband had never for a moment wavered, and she was filled with despair at the thought that she might have forfeited his regard, which was her dearest possession.
After vainly trying to comfort the poor girl, Vulcan went off in search of Philemon, intending to act the part of peacemaker; and no sooner had he gone on this difficult errand, than Jupiter again appeared in the entrance. On beholding Baucis in tears, the amorous god hurried to her side, tenderly entreating her not to grieve, but rather to accept his tender caresses instead; but Baucis, determined not to let such alluring flatteries again overcome her nobler instincts, quickly withdrew herself from his embrace, and, falling on her knees before him, passionately besought him to take her fatal beauty away and make her old and wrinkled once more, that she might thus atone for the wrong she had done her faithful husband in listening even for a moment to words of love from other lips than his.
Jupiter was astounded at this request, thinking that the lovely maiden had taken leave of her senses; but Baucis exclaimed again:
"Nay, my lord, give me back my old age again, when calm and peaceful days were mine, and pure and perfect love for my faithful Philemon was happiness enough for me! What care I for beauty that but enthrals the hearts of others? I only want my husband's love, and that was mine when old! Therefore, make me old again, my lord!"
As Baucis was pleading with Jupiter, Philemon approached with Vulcan; and on thus learning from her impassioned words that his wife still loved him, he ran forward with great gladness, and clasped her in his arms. Baucis, full of thankfulness that her fault was forgiven, returned his caresses with great joy; and Jupiter, though at first furious that a mere mortal should be preferred before himself, the Master of the Gods, yet could not withhold his admiration at the sight of such perfect love as this.
Gradually, his anger melted away, and though he might still have gratified his passing fancy by force, had he wished to do so, it pleased him instead to be magnanimous; and presently he graciously announced to the faithful pair that they should still retain their youth and beauty, and that he would no longer come between their affection, but pour blessings upon them instead.
Having thus restored harmony to the earthly home they had deigned to visit, the two gods returned to Olympus; and Philemon and Baucis were left in peace to rejoice in their renewed youth and the perfect love that should again guide them surely along the path of happiness and contentment to their lives' end!