Dialogues of the Gods

Perseus Greek · Perseus Greek · 244 sections

1.1.1
Release me, Zeus; I have suffered enough.
1.1.2
Release you? you? Why, by rights your irons should be heavier, you should have the whole weight of Caucasus upon you, and instead of one, a dozen vultures, not just pecking at — your liver, but scratching out your eyes. You made these: abominable human creatures to vex us, you stole our fire, you invented women. I need not remind you how you overreached me about the meat-offerings; my portion, bones disguised in fat: yours, all the good.
1.1.3
And have I not been punished enough—riveted to the Caucasus all these years, feeding your bird (on which all worst curses light!) with my liver?
1.1.4
"Tis not a tithe of your deserts,
1.1.5
Consider, I do not ask you to release me for nothing. I offer you information which is invaluable.
1.2.1
Promethean wiles!
1.2.2
Wiles? to what end? you can find the Caucasus another time; and there are chains to be had, if you catch me cheating.
1.2.3
Tell me first the nature of yout ‘invaluable’ offer.
1.2.4
If I tell you your present errand right, will that convince you that I can prophesy too?
1.2.5
Of course it will.
1.2.6
You are bound on a little visit to Thetis.
1.2.7
Right so far. And the sequel? I trust you now.
1.2.8
Have no dealings with her, Zeus. As sure as Neteus’s daughter conceives by you, your child shall mete you the measure you meted to—
1.2.9
I shall lose my kingdom, you would say?
1.2.10
Avert it, Fate! I say only, that union portends this issue.
1.2.11
Thetis, farewell! and for this Hephaestus shall set you free.
2.1.1
You might let me off, Zeus! I suppose it was rather too bad of me; but there!—I am but a child; a wayward child.
2.1.2
A child, and born before Iapetus was ever thought of? You bad old man! Just because you have no beard, and no white hairs, are you going to pass yourself off for a child?
2.1.3
Well, and what such mighty harm has the old man ever done you, that you should talk of chains?
2.1.4
Ask your own guilty conscience, what harm. The pranks you have played me! Satyr, bull, swan, eagle, shower of gold,—I have been everything in my time; and I have you to thank for it. You never by any chance make the women in love with me; no one is ever smitten with my charms, that I have noticed. No, there must be magic in it always; I must be kept well out of sight. They like the bull or the swan well enough: but once let them set eyes on me, and they are frightened out of their lives.
2.2.1
Well, of course. They are but mortals; the sight of Zeus is too much for them.
2.2.2
Then why are Branchus and Hyacinth so fond of Apollo?
2.2.3
Daphne ran away from him, anyhow; in spite of his beautiful hair and his smooth chin. Now, shall I tell you the way to win hearts? Keep that aegis of yours quiet, and leave the thunderbolt at home; make yourself as smart as you can; curl your hair and tie it up with a bit of ribbon, get a purple cloak, and gold-bespangled shoes, and march forth to the music of flute and drum;—and see if you don’t get a finer following than Dionysus, for all his Maenads.
2.2.4
Pooh! I'll win no hearts on such terms.
2.2.5
Oh, in that case, don’t fall in love. Nothing could be simpler.
2.2.6
I dare say; but I like being in love, only I don’t like all this fuss. Now mind; if I let you off, it is on this understanding.
3.1.1
Hermes, you know Inachus’s beautiful daughter?
3.1.2
I do. Io, you mean?
3.1.3
Yes; she is not a girl now, but a heifer.
3.1.4
Magic at work! how did that come about?
3.1.5
Hera had a jealous fit, and transformed her. But that is not all; she has thought of a new punishment for the poor thing. She has put a cowherd in charge, who is all over eyes; this Argus, as he is called, pastures the heifer, and never goes to sleep.
3.1.6
Well, what am I to do?
3.1.7
Fly down to Nemea, where the pasture is, kill Argus, take Io across the sea to Egypt, and convert her into Isis. She shall be henceforth an Egyptian Goddess, flood the Nile, regulate the winds, and rescue mariners,
6.1.1
Zeus! What is your opinion of this man Ixion?
6.1.2
Why, my dear, I think he is a very good sort of man; and the best of company. Indeed, if he were unworthy of our company, he would not be here.
6.1.3
He is unworthy! He is a villain! Discard him!
6.1.4
Eh? What has he been after? I must know about this.
6.1.5
Certainly you must; though I scarce know how to tell you. The wretch!
6.1.6
Oh, oh; if he is a ‘wretch,’ you must certainly tell me all about it. I know what ‘wretch’ means, on your discreet tongue. What, he has been making love?
6.2.1
And to me! to me of all people! It has been going on for a long time. At first, when he would keep looking at me, I had no idea—. And then he would sigh and groan; and when I handed my cup to Ganymede after drinking, he would insist on having it, and would stop drinking to kiss it, and lift it up to his eyes; and then he would look at me again. And then of course I knew. For a long time I didn’t like to say anything to you; I thought his mad fit would pass. But when he actually dared to speak to me, I left him weeping and grovelling about, and stopped my ears, so that I might not hear his impertinences, and came to tell you. It is for you to consider what steps you will take.
6.3.1
Whew! I have a rival, I find; and with my own lawful wife. Here is a rascal who has tippled nectar to some purpose. Well, we have no one but ourselves to blame for it: we make too much of these mortals, admitting them -to our table like this. When they drink of our nectar, and behold the beauties of Heaven (so different from those of Earth!), ’tis no wonder if they fall in love, and form ambitious schemes! Yes, Love is all-powerful; and not with mortals only: we Gods have sometimes fallen beneath his sway.
6.3.2
He has made himself master of you; no doubt of that. He does what he likes with you;—leads you by the nose. You follow him whither he chooses, and assume every shape at his command; you are his chattel, his toy. I know how it will be: you are going to let Ixion off, because you have had relations with his wife; she is the mother of Pirithous.
6.4.1
Why, what a memory you have for these little outings of mine!—Now, my idea about Ixion is this. It would never do to punish him, or to exclude him from our table; that would not look well. No; as he is so fond of you, so hard hit—even to weeping point, you tell me,—
6.4.2
Zeus! What are you going to say?
6.4.3
Don’t be alarmed. Let us make a cloud-phantom in your likeness, and after dinner, as he lies awake (which of course he will do, being in love), let us take it and lay it by his side. Twill put him out of his pain: he will fancy he has attained his desire.
6.4.4
Never! The presumptuous villain!
6.4.5
Yes, I know. But what harm can it do to you, if Ixion makes a conquest of a cloud?
6.5.1
But he will think that I am the cloud; he will be working his wicked will upon me for all he can tell.
6.5.2
Now you are talking nonsense. The cloud is not Hera, and Hera is not the cloud. Ixion will be deceived; that is all.
6.5.3
Yes, but these men are all alike—they have no delicacy. I suppose, when he goes home, he will boast to every one of how he has enjoyed the embraces of Hera, the wife of Zeus! Why, he may tell them that I am in love with him! And they will believe it; they will know nothing about the cloud.
6.5.4
If he says anything of the kind he shall soon find himself in Hades, spinning round on a wheel for all eternity. That will keep him busy! And serve him right; not for falling in love—I see no great harm in that—but for letting his tongue wag.
7.1.1
Have you seen Maia’s baby, Apollo? such a pretty little thing, with a smile for everybody; you can see it is going to be a treasure,
7.1.2
That baby a treasure? well, in mischief, Iapetus is young beside it.
7.1.3
Why, what harm can it do, only just born?
7.1.4
Ask Posidon; it stole his trident. Ask Ares; he was surprised to find his sword gone out of the scabbard. Not to mention myself, disarmed of bow and arrows.
7.2.1
Never! that infant? he has hardly found his legs yet; he is not out of his baby-linen.
7.2.2
Ah, you will find out, Hephaestus, if he gets within reach of you.
7.2.3
He has been.
7.2.4
Well? all your tools safe? none missing?
7.2.5
Of course not.
7.2.6
I advise you to make sure.
7.2.7
Zeus! where are my pincers?
7.2.8
Ah, you will find them among the baby-linen,
7.2.9
So light-fingered? one would swear he had practised petty larceny in the womb.
7.3.1
Ah, and you don’t know what a glib young chatterbox he is; and, if he has his way, he is to be our errand-boy! Yesterday he challenged Eros—tripped up his heels somehow, and had him on his back in a twinkling; before the applause was over, he had taken the opportunity of a congratulatory hug from Aphrodite to steal her girdle; Zeus had not done laughing before— the sceptre was gone. If the thunderbolt had not been too heavy, and very hot, he would have made away with that too.
7.3.2
The child has some spirit in him, by your account.
7.3.3
Spirit, yes—and some music, moreover, young as he is.
7.3.4
How can you tell that?
7.4.1
He picked up a dead tortoise somewhere or other, and contrived an instrument with it. He fitted horns to it, with a cross-bar, stuck in pegs, inserted a bridge, and played a sweet tuneful thing that made an old harper like me quite envious. Even at night, Maia was saying, he does not stay in Heaven; he goes down poking his nose into Hades—on a thieves’ errand, no doubt. Then he has a pair of wings, and he has made himself a magic wand, which he uses for marshalling souls—convoying the dead to their place.
7.4.2
Ah, I gave him that, for a toy.
7.4.3
And by way of payment he stole—
7.4.4
Well thought on; I must go and get them; you may be right about the baby-linen.
8.1.1
What are your orders, Zeus? You sent for me, and here I am; with such an edge to my axe as would cleave a stone at one blow.
8.1.2
Ah; that’s right, Hephaestus. Just split my head in half, will you?
8.1.3
You think I am mad, perhaps?—Seriously, now, what can I do for you?
8.1.4
What I say: crack my skull. Any insubordination, now, and you shall taste my resentment; it will not be the first time. Come, a good lusty stroke, and quick about it. I am in the pangs of travail; my brain is in a whirl.
8.1.5
Mind you, the consequences may be serious: the axe is sharp, and will prove but a rough midwife,
8.1.6
Hew away, and fear nothing. I know what I am about.
8.1.7
H’m. I don’t like it: however, one must obey orders. ... Why, what have we here? A maiden in full armour! This is no joke, Zeus. You might well be waspish, with this great girl growing up beneath your pia mater; in armour, too! You have been carrying a regular barracks on your shoulders all this time. Go active too! See, she is dancing a war-dance, with shield and spear in full swing. She is like one inspired; and (what is more to the point) she is extremely pretty, and has come to marriageable years in these few minutes; those grey eyes, even, look well beneath a helmet. Zeus, I claim her as the fee for my midwifery.
8.1.8
Impossible! She is determined to remain a maid for ever. Not that I have any objection, personally.
8.1.9
That is all I want. You can leave the rest tome. I'll carry her off this moment.
8.1.10
Well, if you think it so easy. But I am sure it is a hopeless case.
11.1.1
What is this I hear about you, Selene? When your car is over Caria, you stop it to gaze at Endymion sleeping hunter-fashion in the open; sometimes, they tell me, you actually get out and go down to him.
11.1.2
Ah, Aphrodite, ask that son of yours; it is he must answer for it all.
11.1.3
Well now, what a naughty boy! he gets his own mother into all sorts of scrapes; I must go down, now to Ida for Anchises of Troy, now to Lebanon for my Assyrian stripling;—mine? no, he put Persephone in love with him too, and so robbed me of half my darling. I have told him many a time that if he would not behave himself I would break his artillery for him, and clip his wings; and before now I have smacked his little behind with my slipper. It is no use; he is frightened and cries for a minute or two, and then forgets all about it.
11.2.1
But tell me, is Endymion handsome? That is always a comfort in our humiliation.
11.2.2
Most handsome, I think, my dear; you should see him when he has spread out his cloak on the rock and is asleep; his javelins in his left hand, just slipping from his grasp, the right arm bent upwards, making a bright frame to the face, and he breathing softly in helpless slumber. Then I come noiselessly down, treading on tiptoe not to wake and startle him— but there, you know all about it; why tell you the rest? I am dying of love, that is all.
12.1.1
Child, child, you must think what you are doing. It is bad enough on earth,—you are always inciting men to do some mischief, to themselves or to one another;—but I am speaking of the Gods. You change Zeus into shape after shape as the fancy takes you; you make Selene come down from the sky; you keep Helius loitering about with Clymene, till he sometimes forgets to drive out at all. As for the naughty tricks you play on your own mother, you know you are safe there. But Rhea! how could you dare to set her on thinking of that young fellow in Phrygia, an old lady like her, the mother of so many Gods? Why, you have made her quite mad: she harnesses those lions of ers, and drives about all over Ida with the Corybantes, who are as mad as herself, shrieking high and low for Attis; and there they are, slashing their arms with swords, rushing about over the hills, like wild things, with dishevelled hair, blowing horns, beating drums, clashing cymbals; all Ida is one mad tumult. I am quite uneasy about it; yes, you wicked boy, your poor mother is quite uneasy: some day when Rhea is in one of her mad fits (or when she is in her senses, more likely), she will send the Corybantes after you, with orders to tear you to pieces, or throw you to the lions. You are so venturesome!
12.2.1
Be under no alarm, mother; I understand lions perfectly by this time. I get on to their backs every now and then, and take hold of their manes, and ride them about; and when I put my hand into their mouths, they only lick it, and let me take it out again. Besides, how is Rhea going to have time to attend to me? She is too busy with Attis. And I see no harm in just pointing out beautiful things to people; they can leave them alone;—it is nothing to do with me. And ‘how would you like it if Ares were not in love with you, or you with him?
12.2.2
Masterful boy! always the last word! But you will remember this some day.
13.1.1
Now, Asclepius and Heracles, stop that quarrelling; you might as well be men; such behaviour is very improper and out of place at the table of the Gods.
13.1.2
Is this druggist fellow to have a place above me, Zeus?
13.1.3
Of course I am; I am your better.
13.1.4
Why, you numskull? because it was Zeus’s bolt that cracked your skull, for your unholy doings, and now you have been allowed your immortality again out of sheer pity?
13.1.5
You twit me with my fiery end; you seem to have forgotten that you too were burnt to death, on Oeta.
13.1.6
Was there no difference between your life and mine, then? I am Zeus’s son, and it is well known how I toiled, cleansing the earth, conquering monsters, and chastising men of violence. Whereas you are a root-grubber and a quack; I dare say you have your use for doctoring sick men, but you never did a bold deed in your life.
13.2.1
That comes well from you, whose burns I healed, when you came up all singed not so long ago; between the tunic and the flames, your body was half consumed. Anyhow, it would be enough to mention that I was never a slave like you, never combed wool in Lydia, masquerading in a purple shawl and being slippered by an Omphale, never killed my wife and children in a fit of the spleen.
13.2.2
If you don’t stop being rude, I shall soon show you that immortality is not much good. I will take you up and pitch you head over heels out of Heaven, and Apollo himself shall never mend your broken crown.
13.2.3
Cease, I say, and let us hear ourselves speak, or I will send you both away from table. Heracles, Asclepius died before you, and has the right to a better place.
14.1.1
Why so sad, Apollo?

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