Als Lehrer/in registrieren
Phaethon and Phoebus P2
Storyboard-Text
- (104-105)You are asking for a curse, Phaethon. Why are your arms around my neck, foolish boy?
- (106-107)Don't worry, whatever you choose you will get- I have sworn by the Styx-but choose more wisely!
- And After ALL OF THAT...
- NOOOOO
- (177-181)The chariot without its usual burden was tossed around and bounced in the air as if it had no one onboard. As soon as they felt it, the team ran wild, leaving the well-worn track and going off course. (226-227)The moon was amazed to see her brother's horses lower than her own. (273-276)The Alpheus boiled, Spercheisos' banks burned, the gold swept along in the Tagus' current liquefied in the heat, and the swans that carpeted Maeonia with song were scorched in the Cayster. (298-301)Mother Earth still lifted up her face, and placing a hand before her fevered brow, heaved with mighty tremors that shook the world. (304-306)Why, lord of the gods, is your lightning idle? If I must parish by fire at least let it be yours and lighten my loss by having it come from you. (332-335)The father almighty called the gods to witness (And especially the one who had given the chariot) that unless he came to the rescue, the entire world was doomed. (339-342)He does thunder, though, and in his right hand balances a lightning bolt level with his ear, and hurls it at the charioteer, jolting him from the car and from his soul as well. (346-349)The reins lie here, the axle over there, torn from the pole. The wheels are shattered, the spokes strewn all over the place in the shower of debris from the chariot wreck. (350-353) Phaethon's red hair was a plume of flame as he was propelled in a long ark through the air, leaving a trail the way a star sometimes does when it seems to have fallen from a cloudless sky. (355-358)Far from his native land, by the greatest of rivers, Eridanus, who bathed his streaming face. The Hesperian Naiads buried his body, still smoking from that jagged lightning bolt.
- (421-425)Meanwhile, Phaethon's father mournes, bereft of his bright glory, as if he were in eclipse. he hates the light, hates himself, hates the day. He gives his soul over to grief, to grief adds rage, and refuses his duty to the world.
- (424-435)Enough! From the beginning of time its been my lot never to rest. I am weary of my endless toil, My unhonored labor. Let someone else drive the chariot of light. If there is no one else, if all the gods admit it is beyond their power, let Jove himself do it, so that at least while he tries to handle my reins he might put down the bolts that deprive fathers of sons. Then he will know, when he has felt the streangth of those fire-shod horses, that not to control them does not merit death.
- (360-361)HERE LIES PHAETHON, WHO TOOK HIS FATHER'S REINS. IF HE LOST HIS HOLD, HIS HIGH DARING REMAINS.
Mehr als 40 Millionen Storyboards erstellt
Keine Downloads, Keine Kreditkarte und Kein Login zum Ausprobieren Erforderlich!
