Typhon, in the Greek mythology a fire-breathing giant, struck by a thunderbolt of Jupiter, and buried under Etna.
Empedocles stayed his feet among the groves of Etna to hear it.
How different it is from Etna, that lonely, self-conscious wonder of Sicily!
The map of Etna, which I have been just looking at, looks like a sudden falling in, does it not?
His face was pale and calm, but the calm was the calm of the gray crust of Etna.
A quiet Vesuvius slew its thousands: Etna its tens of thousands.
Groups of the villagers were gathered in the streets which looked upward to Etna and discussing the chances of an eruption.
And for aught I know, or do not know, he is sweeping the crater of Etna to this very day.
Empedocles under Mt. Etna was no more imprisoned than is the life of to-day which is filled with the things of yesterday.
Human vegetables are as unfortunate as those which live at the foot of Etna.