PSSA Grade 8 ELA Item and Scoring Sampler—September 2015 78
PSSA ENGLISH LANGUAGE ARTS
For an instant the Sun’s looks clouded. “Choose again, my child,” said he. “Thou art only a
mortal, and this task is mine alone of all the gods. Not Zeus himself dares drive the chariot of the
Sun. The way is full of terrors, both for the horses and for all the stars along the roadside and for
the Earth, who has all blessings from me. Listen, and choose again.” And therewith he warned
Phaethon of all the dangers that beset the way—the great steep that the steeds must climb, the
numbing dizziness of the height, the fierce constellations that breathe out fire, and that descent in
the west where the Sun seems to go headlong.
But these counsels only made the reckless boy more eager to win honor of such a high
enterprise.
“I will take care; only let me go,” he begged.
Now Phoebus had sworn by the black river Styx, an oath that none of the gods dare break,
and he was forced to keep his promise.
Already Aurora, goddess of dawn, had thrown open the gates of the east and the stars were
beginning to wane. The Hours came forth to harness the four horses, and Phaethon looked with
exultation at the splendid creatures, whose lord he was for a day. Wild, immortal steeds they were,
fed with ambrosia, untamed as the winds; their very pet names signified flame, and all that flame
can do—Pyrois, Eoüs, Aethon, Phlegon.
As the lad stood by, watching, Phoebus anointed his face with a philter
1
that should make him
strong to endure the terrible heat and light, then set the halo upon his head, with a last word of
counsel.
“Follow the road,” said he, “and never turn aside. Go not too high or too low, for the sake of
heavens and earth; else men and gods will suffer. The Fates alone know whether evil is to come
of this. Yet if your heart fails you, as I hope, abide here and I will make the journey, as I am wont to
do.”
But Phaethon held to his choice and bade his father farewell. He took his place in the chariot,
gathered up the reins, and the horses sprang away, eager for the road.
As they went, they bent their splendid necks to see the meaning of the strange hand upon the
reins—the slender weight in the chariot. They turned their wild eyes upon Phaethon, to his secret
foreboding, and neighed one to another. This was no master-charioteer, but a mere lad, a feather
riding the wind. It was holiday for the horses of the Sun, and away they went.
Grasping the reins that dragged him after, like an enemy, Phaethon looked down from the
fearful ascent and saw the Earth far beneath him, dim and fair. He was blind with dizziness and
bewilderment. His hold slackened and the horses redoubled their speed, wild with new liberty.
They left the old tracks. Before he knew where he was, they had startled the constellations and
well-nigh grazed the Serpent, so that it woke from its torpor and hissed.
The steeds took fright. This way and that they went, terrified by the monsters they had never
encountered before, shaking out of their silver quiet the cool stars towards the north, then fleeing
as far to the south among new wonders. The heavens were full of terror.
1
philter—a magical potion