Dialogues of the Gods

1ARESMy dear Hermes, have you heard Zeus’ threats? How proud and preposterous they are! “If I please”, says he, “I’ll let a cord†down from heaven; you’ll be hanging on it, trying with all your might to pull me down, but you’ll be wasting all your efforts, for you’ll never succeed. And, if I choose to tug up, it won’t be only you, but I’ll pull up the earth and the sea into the bargain, and leave the lot dangling in mid-air.” He goes on and on like that. You’ve heard it all too. I’ll admit that he’s more than a match and too strong for any one of us, but that he’s too much for all of us put together, so that, even if we have the earth and the sea with us, our weight wouldn’t overpower him—that I’ll never believe.

2HERMESHush, Ares. It isn’t safe to talk like that, or we may be sorry for our silly chatter. ARESDo you think I’d have said that to just anyone, or only to you? I knew you would hold your tongue. But I must tell you what struck me as most ridiculous as I listened to his threats. I remember, just the other day, when Poseidon and Hera and Athena rebelled,†and were plotting to catch him and clap him in irons, he was crazy with terror though there were only three of them. And in irons he would have been, thunder and lightning and all, if Thetis had not been sorry for him, and called in to his help Briareos with his hundred hands. When I thought of that, I had to laugh at his fine talk. HERMESQuiet, I tell you. It’s dangerous for you to talk like that, and for me to listen.

1PANGood day to you, Hermes, Daddy mine. HERMESAnd a bad day to you. But how am I your daddy? PANAren’t you Hermes of Cyllene? HERMESYes. How, then, are you my son? PANI’m your bastard boy, your love-child. HERMESOh quite so, when some billy-goat, I suppose, led a nanny astray! How could you be mine, you with your horns and ugly snout and shaggy beard and a goat’s cloven hooves and a tail over your behind? PANWhen you jeer at me, daddy, you’re mocking your own son, or rather yourself for producing such creatures as your children. It’s not my fault. HERMESWho do you say your mother was? Perhaps I led a nanny astray without knowing it. PANNo, not a nanny. But try to remember if you ever forced your attentions on a freeborn girl in Arcadia. Why are you biting your nails and thinking so hard? Why so puzzled? I’m speaking of Icarius’ girl, Penelope.†HERMESThen what possessed her to produce in you a child not like me but like a goat?

2PANI’ll tell you what she said herself. When she was packing me off to Arcadia, she said, “My boy, I, Penelope, a true blue Spartan, am your mother, but your father, let me tell you, is a god, Hermes, son of Maia and Zeus. Don’t worry because you have horns and a goat’s shanks, for when your father came courting me, he made himself into a goat so that no one would notice him. That’s why you’ve turned out like the goat.” HERMESAh, yes. I do remember doing something like that. Am I, then, to be called your father? I, who am so proud of my good looks! I, who’ve still got a smooth chin! Am I to be laughed at by all for having such a bonny boy?

3PANBut I won’t disgrace you, father. I’m a musician and play the pipe loud and true. Dionysus is lost without me, and has made me his companion and fellow-reveller; I’m his dance-leader, and if you could see how many flocks I have around Tegea and on Parthenium, you’d be delighted. I’m lord and master of all Arcadia. Besides that, the other day, I fought so magnificently on the side of the Athenians at Marathon that a prize of valour was chosen for me—the cave under the Acropolis.†Anyhow, go to Athens and you’ll soon find out what a great name Pan has there.

4HERMESTell me, are you married yet, Pan? Pan’s the name they give you, isn’t it? PANOf course not, daddy. I’m romantically inclined, and wouldn’t like to have to confine my attentions to just one. HERMESNo doubt, then, you try your luck with the nanny-goats? PANA fine jest coming from you! My lady-friends are Echo and Pitys and all the Maenads of Dionysus, and I’m in great demand with them. HERMESPlease do me a favour, son. I’ve never asked one from you before. PANTell me what you want, daddy, and let me see to it. HERMESYou may come here and pay your respects to me, but please don’t call me daddy when anyone can hear.

1APOLLOWhat can we make of it? Won’t we have to admit that Eros and Hermaphroditus and Priapus, though sons of the same mother, are utterly different in appearance and habits? Eros is really handsome, and an archer invested with great power, and lord of all. Hermaphroditus is an effeminate pansy, half one thing and half the other in appearance, for you can’t tell whether he’s boy or girl; whereas Priapus is quite indecently masculine. DIONYSUSThere’s no need to be surprised, Apollo. It’s not Aphrodite’s fault, but the fathers were different.†Why, even when the father’s the same, the one mother often has both boys and girls in her family. Take for example your sister and yourself. APOLLOQuite so, but we are alike and have the same interests. We’re both archers. DIONYSUSThe same as far as the bow goes, Apollo, but no farther, for Artemis kills visitors in Scythia, while you are a prophet and healer of the sick. APOLLOWhat? Do you think my sister likes her Scythians? Why, the moment a Greek reaches Taurica, she’s all ready and waiting to sail off with him, in disgust at their human sacrifices.†

2DIONYSUSAnd the best thing she could do. But now as for Priapus—I’ll tell you something really funny. The other day—it was in Lampsacus—I was passing the city, when he invited me home with him, and put me up for the night. Now we’d gone to sleep in his dining-room, after and were pretty well soaked, when about midnight up gets our bold lad—but I’m ashamed to tell you. APOLLOAnd made an attempt on you, Dionysus? DIONYSUSSomething like that. APOLLOHow did you deal with the situation? DIONYSUSWhat could I do but laugh? APOLLOThe best thing too, no bad temper or violence. He’d some excuse for making an attempt on you. You’re so good-looking. DIONYSUSAs far as that goes, he might make an attempt on you too, Apollo. You’re so handsome and have such a fine head of hair, that he might assault you, even when he was sober. APOLLOOh no, he won’t. I have arrows as well as long hair.

1HERMESIs there a god in heaven, mother, more miserable than I am? MAIAHermes, dear, you mustn’t talk like that. HERMESWhy shouldn’t I, when I’m so busy—and the only one that does a hand’s turn, too—quite distracted with so many different jobs? I must be up at crack of dawn, and sweep the dining-room, seeing to the cushions on the couch and tidying everything up, and then be at Zeus’ beck and call, a courier to carry his messages high and low, and the moment I’m back, I’ve to lay out the ambrosia, without even time for a wash; and before his latest acquisition, thi nectar as well. But worst of all, it’s just the same at night. I’m the only one that loses hiss wine waiter, arrived, I used to pour out the sleep, and must be busy then too—for Pluto, this time, acting as guide of souls and usher of the dead, and then be on duty with Justice Rhadamanthys. My day’s work isn’t enough for me, it seems, on the go in the wrestling schools, announcing in parliament, and training speakers, but I’ve to help out with the dead as well, for they all want their share of me.

2HERMESYet Leda’s children†can take turns at being in heaven and Hades on alternate days, but I must carry out all those jobs every day in both places. Yes, and the sons of Alcmena and Semele,†whose mothers were only women, and came to a bad end, can gorge themselves without a care in the world, while I, the son of Maia, the daughter of Atlas, must wait on them hand and foot. Now I’m just back from Cadmus’ daughter at Sidon,†where he sent me to see how things were with her, and, without giving me time to get my breath back, he’s sent me off again to Argos to have a look at Danae, and “Then”, says he, “you’d better go on from there to Boeotia, and take a peep at Antiope on your way”. But I’m quite fagged out already. If only it were possible, I’d gladly have asked to be sold in the market, like slaves on earth who find their lot too bad.†MAIAEnough of that, my lad. You must do everything your father wants. You’re still a youngster. Off with you now to Argos, as you were told, and then to Boeotia, or you may get a whipping for dawdling. Lovers have sharp tempers.

1PROMETHEUSFree me, Zeus. I’ve suffered terribly already. ZEUSI’m to free you, am I? You ought to have had heavier chains, and all of Caucasus on your head, and a whole sixteen vultures to tear at your liver, and dig your eyes out too, for making such creatures as humans to plague us, and stealing fire and producing women.†For need I mention how you tricked me in serving out the meat, by serving me with hones wrapped in fat, and keeping the better portion for yourself?†PROMETHEUSWell, haven’t I already been punished enough for that, nailed all this time to Caucasus, with that accursed eagle feeding on my liver?

2ZEUSThat’s not the tiniest fraction of what you deserve. PROMETHEUSBut you shall have your reward for my freedom. I’ll give you some very vital information, Zeus. ZEUSYou’re trying to trick me, Prometheus. PROMETHEUSWhat good will that do me? You’ll still know where Caucasus is, and still have plenty of chains left, if I’m caught up to any tricks. ZEUSTell me first what is this vital reward I’ll have from you? PROMETHEUSSuppose I tell you what you’re after in your present expedition, will you trust the rest of my prophecies? ZEUSYes, indeed. PROMETHEUSYou’re off to Thetis, to make love to her. ZEUSSo far you’re right, but what’s to follow? For I think what you say will prove true. PROMETHEUSHave nothing to do with that daughter of Nereus, for if she brings you a child,†it will treat you just as you treated— ZEUSDo you mean that I’ll be cast out of my kingdom?†PROMETHEUSI hope not, Zeus, but something of the sort threatens if you tamper with her. ZEUSGoodbye, then, to Thetis; and you, Prometheus, must be released by Hephaestus for this.

1EROSEven if I have done something wrong, Zeus, please forgive me, for I’m only a child, and still without sense. ZEUSYou a child, you Eros, who are far older than Iapetus†! Just because you have no heard or grey hairs, do you really think you should be considered a babe in arms, you old villain? EROSWhat great harm have I, old villain as you call me, done you, that you even think of putting me in chains? ZEUSCurse you, do you think it no great harm when you make such a fool of me that you’ve turned me into everything under the sun—satyr, bull, shower of gold, swan, eagle?†Yet you’ve never made one woman fall for me in my true colours, and, as far as I know, I’ve not got you to thank for any of my conquests, but I’ve to practise black magic to win the ladies, hiding my true self. They’ve plenty of affection for the bull or the swan, but if they see me as I really am, they’re frightened to death.

2EROSThat’s only natural. The sight of your face is too much for mortal women like them. ZEUSHow, then, is Apollo so popular with Branchus and Hyacinthus? EROSAnd yet even he had Daphne run from him, for all his flowing locks and beardless face. But if you want them to fall for you, you mustn’t go shaking that shield of yours or carrying your thunderbolt around with you, but make yourself as attractive as you can and tender to behold. Let your hair grow down in curls, do them up with a ribbon like Bacchus, wear a purple robe and golden slippers, and come dancing in to the music of pipes and timbrels, and you’ll find you have more of them running after you than all his Bacchantes put together. ZEUSBe off with you. I’d rather they didn’t fall for me, if I’ve to be like that. EROSThen give up all ideas of romance, Zeus. That’s a simple enough way out. ZEUSOh, no! I want my women, but I want success with them without so much trouble. Promise me just that, and I’ll let you go.

1ZEUSHermes, do you know Inachus’ daughter, the one that’s so pretty? HERMESYes. You mean Io,†don’t you? ZEUSShe’s not a girl, but a heifer now. HERMESWonders will never cease! How this change? ZEUSHera did it out of jealousy. But that’s not all. She’s played another nasty unheard-of trick on the poor girl. She’s put a herdsman called Argus with ever so many eyes in charge of her. He keeps an eye on her as she grazes, and he never goes to sleep. HERMESWell, what are we to do about it? ZEUSYou must fly down to Nemea—Argus is on his beat thereabouts—and kill him. Then take Io over the sea to Egypt, and make her into Isis. Hereafter let her be goddess of the folk there, raising the waters of the Nile, sending them their winds, and preserving seafarers from harm.

1HERASince you’ve brought this lad†up here, Zeus, this Phrygian you carried off from Ida, you’ve been neglecting me. ZEUSWhat, Hera? Jealous already? Of him too, though he’s so simple and harmless? I thought you were only down on my various lady friends.

2HERAIt’s bad enough and quite out of place for you, the master of all gods, to desert me, your lawful wife, and go down to earth, turning into gold or satyr or bull, to commit adultery. But your women do stay on the earth, but as for this boy from Ida, you grabbed hold of him and flew him up here, my fine king of the birds, and you’ve brought him into our family over my head, “as wine-waiter”, you say. Were you so badly in need of wine-waiters? Have Hebe and Hephaestus, then, gone on strike? And you can’t take the cup from him, without kissing him first before all our eyes, and you find his kiss sweeter than the nectar, and so you keep on and on asking for a drink, even when you’re not thirsty. Sometimes, too, you just take a sip, and give him the cup, and when he has drunk, you take it back and drain it, from the side he’s drunk from and touched with his lips, so that you can be drinking and kissing at the same time. And the other day, you, the king and father of all, laid aside your aegis and thunderbolt, and sat down playing dice with him, you with that great beard on your face! I see it all. Don’t think you’re hoodwinking me.

3ZEUSAnd what’s so terrible, my dear, in kissing a pretty boy like that while I’m drinking, and enjoying both the kiss and the nectar? Why, if I let him kiss you just once, you’ll never again blame me for preferring his kiss to the nectar. HERAAdmirers of boys may talk like that, but I hope I’ll never be so mad as to give my lips to that Phrygian softie. Oh, the effeminate creature! ZEUSPlease don’t abuse my little darling, noble Hera. This effeminate foreigner, this softie, is more delightful and desirable to me than—I won’t say it, for fear that I make you still angrier.

4HERAWell, you can go ahead and marry him, for all I care. But I hope you remember how you’re showering tipsy abuse on me because of this wine-boy. ZEUSWhat nonsense! I suppose we ought to have our wine from your son, Hephaestus, hobbling about, straight from the forge, still filthy from the sparks, having just put down his tongs. I suppose I should take the cup from those dirty fingers of his, and between each mouthful of wine give him a kiss? Why, even you, his own mother, wouldn’t want to kiss his face, all black with soot. That would be nicer, wouldn’t it? Hephaestus was a much more suitable wine-waiter for the table of the gods, I suppose, and Ganymede should be packed off home to Ida? He’s too clean, and has rosy fingers, he’s not clumsy when he offers the drink, and what annoys you most of all, his kiss is sweeter than the nectar.

5HERAOh, so now you complain that Hephaestus is lame, and his fingers aren’t good enough for your cup, and he is all sooty, and that the sight of him turns your stomach? You’ve been like that ever since Ida produced this long-haired darling. In the old days, you didn’t notice these things. The sparks and the forge didn’t stop you from taking your wine from him. ZEUSYou’re only making yourself miserable, my dear, and me fonder of him, by being jealous. If you don’t like taking your drink from a lovely boy, you can have your own son serve you, and I’ll have you, Ganymede, all to myself, waiting on me, and giving me two kisses with each cup, one when you hold it out to me full, and a second when I give you it back. Hullo, not crying, are you? Don’t be afraid. Anyone that chooses to hurt you will regret it.

1HERAThis Ixion, Zeus, what sort of a fellow do you think he is? ZEUSWhy, an honest man, my dear, and grand company. He wouldn’t be our guest, if he were unworthy of our table. HERABut he isn’t worthy, for his behaviour’s outrageous. So don’t invite him again. ZEUSHow’s it been outrageous? I think I should be in the know too. HERAOf course you should. But I’m ashamed to mention it. Such a thing to dare! ZEUSBut if he’s tried to do anything shameful, that’s all the more reason for telling me about it. He’s not been making attempts on anyone, has he? I think I can guess the sort of shameful thing you wouldn’t like to mention.

2HERAIt’s me he’s been after. Me of all people! And for a long time too! At first I didn’t know what it all meant, when he kept gazing hard at me. He would sigh and whimper, and whenever I gave the cup to Ganymede after drinking, he would ask for a drink from the same cup, and when he got it, would stop in the middle of his drink and kiss the cup, bringing it up to his eyes, and staring at me again. Presently I realised these were signs of love, and for a long time I was ashamed to mention the matter to you, thinking the man would get over his madness. But now that he’s actually dared to broach the subject with me, I’ve left him still weeping and grovelling on the ground, and, stopping up my ears so that I wouldn’t even hear his outrageous pleas, I’ve come to tell you. I leave his punishment in your own hands.

3ZEUSThe enterprising old devil! Supplanting me! Aspiring to Hera’s affections! So drunk with the nectar! Well, it’s our own fault; we’ve been far too good to men, inviting them up to drink with us. So you can’t blame them, when they’ve had the same to drink as us, and seen the beauty of heaven’s ladies, the like of which they never saw on earth, if they fall in love and want such beauties for themselves. After all, Love’s a pretty violent thing, and gets the mastery not only of men, but sometimes even of us gods. HERALove’s your master, good and proper. He drags you along, pulling you by the nose, as they say, and you follow wherever he leads you, and don’t mind changing into anything he bids you. Why, you’re nothing but love’s chattel and plaything. I can see already that you sympathise with Ixion, because you yourself once made free with his wife, and she brought you Peirithous.

4ZEUSWhat? Do you still remember every time I went down to earth to have some fun? Do you know what I think we should do with Ixion? We shouldn’t punish him or forbid him our table. That would be ill-bred. No, since he’s in love, and reduced to tears and suffers intolerable torment— HERAQuick, out with it; for I’m afraid you too will make some outrageous suggestion. ZEUSNothing of the sort. No, let’s make a model of you out of cloud, and every night after dinner, when he can’t get to sleep for love, as is only natural, we can bring it and put it beside him. Thus he could be out of his misery, and imagine he’s got what he longs for. HERANever! Curse him for lusting after what’s above him. ZEUSStill you must put up with it, my dear. What harm will the model do you, if Ixion makes love to a cloud?

5HERABut I’ll be mistaken for the cloud and so be put to shame, because we can’t be told apart. ZEUSWhat nonsense! The cloud could never become Hera or you a cloud. Ixion will be deceived, that’s all. HERABut humans are all so ill-bred. Perhaps he’ll start boasting down on earth, telling his story to everyone and claiming that he’s been keeping company with Hera, and sharing Zeus’ bed; perhaps he may even say I’m in love with him, and they’ll believe him, not knowing he was with a cloud. ZEUSVery well, if he says anything bike that, he’ll be thrown down to Hades and tied to a wheel—he won’t like that a bit—and carried round and round with the wheel for ever, and suffer torment without end, not as a punishment for his love—for that’s no crime—but for boasting.

1ZEUSCome now, Ganymede. We’ve got there, so you can give me a kiss right away, and you’ll know I’ve no crooked beak now, or sharp claws or wings, as you thought when you took me for a bird. GANYMEDEMister man, weren’t you an eagle just now? Didn’t you swoop down, and carry me away from the middle of my flock? How, then, have your feathers moulted? You look quite different now. ZEUSIt’s no man you see here, my lad, nor eagle either. No, I’m the king of all the gods, but I’ve changed my shape for the moment. GANYMEDEWhat’s that? Are you Pan himself? How is it, then, you’ve no pipe or horns or shaggy legs? ZEUSIs he your only god? GANYMEDEYes, and we sacrifice one of our best billies to him, taking it to the cave where he has his statue. But you’re just a kidnapper, if you ask me.

2ZEUSTell me, have you never heard the name of Zeus? Never seen his altar on Gargaron†—the one who sends rain, thunder and lightning? GANYMEDEOh, sir, do you mean you’re the one that poured down that tremendous hailstorm on us the other day, the one they say lives up top and makes all the noise, the one my father sacrificed the ram to? What harm have I done you, mister king of the gods, that you’ve carried me off up here? Perhaps the wolves will fall on my sheep now that they’re unprotected, and tear them to pieces. ZEUSWhat? Still worrying about your sheep? You’re an immortal now and will be living up here with us. GANYMEDEWhat’s that? Won’t you be taking me back to Ida today? ZEUSOf course not. That would mean I’d changed from god to eagle all for nothing. GANYMEDEThen my daddy will be looking everywhere for me and getting cross if he doesn’t find me, and I’ll get a thrashing by and by for leaving my flock. ZEUSHow so? Where will he see you? GANYMEDEPlease don’t go on with it, for I miss him already. If only you take me back, I promise you you’ll get another ram from him, sacrificed as my ransom. We have the three-year-old one, the big one that leads the way to the pasture.

3ZEUSHow simple the child is, how innocent he is! Still just a child, that’s what he is. Look here, Ganymede, you can say good-bye to all those things and forget all about them—about your flock and about Ida. You’re one of heaven’s company now, and can do a lot of good to your father and country from here. Instead of your cheese and milk, you’ll have ambrosia to eat and nectar to drink, only you’ll have to serve the nectar to the rest of us too with your own fair hand. And most important of all, you won’t be human any more, but immortal, and I’ll make your own star—the prettiest one shining in the sky—and you’ll enjoy perfect happiness. GANYMEDEBut what if I want to play? Who will play with me? There were a lot of us who were of my age on Ida. ZEUSYou have someone to play with here too—there’s Eros over there—and lots and lots of knucklebones†as well. Only you must cheer up and be a bit more pleased with life, and stop longing for things below.

4GANYMEDEBut how could I possibly be any use to you? Will I have to look after a flock here too? ZEUSNo, you’ll pour wine, and be in charge of the nectar, looking after us at table. GANYMEDEThat’s quite simple. I know how to pour milk, and hand round the milk bowl. ZEUSThere he goes again. Keeps harping on his milk! Think’s he’ll be waiting on men! This is heaven, let me tell you, and, as I said just now, our drink is nectar. GANYMEDEIs that nicer than milk, Zeus? ZEUSYou’ll know very soon, and once you’ve tasted it, you won’t miss your milk any more. GANYMEDEWhere shall I sleep at night? With Eros, my playmate? ZEUSNo, that’s why I carried you off up here; I wanted us to sleep together. GANYMEDECan’t you sleep alone? Will you prefer sleeping with me? ZEUSYes, when it’s with a beautiful boy like you.

5GANYMEDEBut how will you sleep better because of my beauty? ZEUSIt’s sweet and soothing, and brings softer sleep. GANYMEDEBut Daddy would get annoyed with me when I slept with him, and kept telling us first thing in the morning how he couldn’t sleep for me tossing and turning, kicking out and talking in my sleep; so he usually sent me to sleep with mummy. So, if that’s why you brought me up here, as you say it is, the sooner you put me back down on earth again, the better, or you’ll have a terrible time with sleepless nights. For I’ll be an awful nuisance to you, tossing and turning all night long. ZEUSThat’s just what I’ll like best—staying awake with you, kissing and hugging you again and again. GANYMEDEYou can find out by yourself. I’ll go to sleep and leave the kissing to you. ZEUSWe’ll find out how to manage, when the time comes. Take him off now, Hermes, and let him have a draught of immortality, and when you’ve shown him how to offer the cup, bring him back to serve our wine.

1HEPHAESTUSHave you seen how bonny Maia’s newborn baby†is, Apollo, and what a nice smile it has for everyone? You can see already it’ll be a real treasure. APOLLOThat baby a real treasure, Hephaestus? Why, it’s already older than Iapetus†when it comes to mischief. HEPHAESTUSWhat harm could it do? It was born only the other day. APOLLOAsk Poseidon—it stole his trident—or Ares—it filched his sword out of his scabbard—not to mention myself—it disarmed me of my bow and arrows.

2HEPHAESTUSWhat? That newborn infant, which can hardly stand up, and is still in its baby-clothes? APOLLOYou’ll see for yourself, my dear fellow, if he gets near you. HEPHAESTUSBut he’s already been near me. APOLLOAnd what happened? Still got all your tools? None gone? HEPHAESTUSAll present and correct, Apollo. APOLLOAll the same, have a really good look. HEPHAESTUSGood heavens, I can’t see my tongs. APOLLONo, you’ll see them in his baby-clothes. HEPHAESTUSCan he have been practising stealing in his mother’s womb, that he’s so light-fingered?

3APOLLOWell, haven’t you heard him speaking? He already has a glib and fluent tongue. And he wants to be our message boy. And yesterday he challenged Eros to wrestle with him, and in no time at all took his feet from under him somehow and had him on the ground. When they were still congratulating him and Aphrodite gave him a hug for winning, he stole her girdle, and, before Zeus had stopped laughing, his sceptre into the bargain; and if his thunderbolt hadn’t been too heavy and scorching hot, he’d have had that too and nobody any the wiser. HEPHAESTUSThe child’s too sharp for words, by your account. APOLLOYes, and he’s already shown he’s musical. HEPHAESTUSHow can you tell that?

4APOLLOHe picked up a dead tortoise somewhere, and made himself a musical instrument out of it; he’s fitted arms to it, with a yoke across, then driven in pegs, fitted a bridge, and stretched seven strings across; he plays a dainty melody with it, Hephaestus, well in tune, so that even I am green with envy for all my years of practice on the harp. Even at night, Maia was telling me, he wouldn’t stay in heaven, but would go all the way down to Hades out of curiosity—to steal something from there, I’ve no doubt. He has wings on his feet, and has had someone make him a rod with marvellous powers, and with it leads down the souls of the dead. HEPHAESTUSI gave him that for a toy. APOLLOWell, he’s paid you back for that good and proper—the tongs, you know. HEPHAESTUSThanks for reminding me. I’ll go and get them back, if they’re to be found, as you say, in his baby-clothes.

1POSEIDONMay I have a word with Zeus, Hermes? HERMESImpossible, Poseidon. POSEIDONJust tell him I’m here. HERMESDon’t bother us, I tell you. It’s not convenient. You can’t see him just now. POSEIDONHe’s not with Hera, is he? HERMESNo, it’s something quite different. POSEIDONI know what you mean. He’s got Ganymede in there. HERMESNo, it’s not that either. He’s poorly. POSEIDONHow come, Hermes? That’s surprising. HERMESI’m ashamed to tell you; it’s so awful. POSEIDONThere’s nothing wrong with telling Uncle Poseidon. HERMESHe’s just had a baby, uncle. POSEIDONNonsense. How could he? Who’s the father? Was he a man-woman, then, without us knowing? His belly didn’t show he was pregnant. HERMESTrue enough; the child wasn’t there. POSEIDONOh, I’ve got it. He produced it out of his head again, just as he did Athena.†He’s got a prolific head. HERMESNo, it was from his thigh that Semele’s child came. POSEIDONBravo! He’s a fine one for you. Gets pregnant from head to toe. Breeds all over his body. But who is Semele?

2HERMESShe’s from Thebes—one of Cadmus’ daughters. He got her into trouble. POSEIDONAnd then had the baby himself, instead of her? HERMESExactly, even if you do think it odd. The fact is that Hera—you know how jealous she is—talked Semele into persuading Zeus to visit her complete with thunder and lightning. He agreed, and came with his thunderbolt too; the roof caught fire, and Semele was burnt up, and he told me to cut open her womb, and bring him the half-formed seven-month child. When I did so, he cut a slit in his own thigh, and slipped it in to finish its growth there; now, two months later, he’s brought it into the world, and he’s ill from the birth-pains. POSEIDONThen, where’s the baby now? HERMESI took him to Nysa, and gave him to the Nymphs to bring up. His name is Dionysus. POSEIDONIs my brother, then, both father and mother of Dionysus? HERMESSo it seems. But I’ll be off now to bring him water for his wound, and give him the other attentions usual after a confinement.

1HEPHAESTUSWhat do you want me to do, Zeus? Here I am, as you ordered, all ready with my axe at its sharpest, even if I must chop through stones with a single blow. ZEUSThat’s grand, Hephaestus. Now, down with it on my head and cut it in two.†HEPHAESTUSAre you trying to see if I’m mad? Tell me what you really want me to do. ZEUSYou heard. I want my skull split. If you don’t obey, I’ll be angry—and you know what that’s like already.†Hit away with all your might. Come on, hurry up. The birth-pangs shooting through my brain are killing me. HEPHAESTUSTake care, Zeus, or I may hurt you. My axe is sharp. You’ll find her a midwife that draws blood and quite different from Ilithyia.†ZEUSHit away, Hephaestus. Don’t be afraid; I know what’s good for me. HEPHAESTUSAll right, here goes. How can I help it, when it’s your orders? Hullo, what’s this? A girl in armour?†That was no small trouble you had in your head. No wonder you were short-tempered, breeding a big girl like that in your brain—and her with armour into the bargain. It wasn’t a head you had but a barracks, though we didn’t know it. She’s leaping up and down in a war-dance, shaking her shield and poising her spear, full of the spirit of battle; and, most wonderful of all, see how good-looking and grown-up she’s become in this short time; she’s got grey eyes, but they go very well with her helmet. So, Zeus, pay me for my services as midwife, by betrothing her to me this minute. ZEUSThat’s impossible. She’ll want to remain single for ever, though for my part I’ve no objection to your request. HEPHAESTUSThat’s all I wanted to hear. Leave the rest to me. I’ll be off with her right away. ZEUSDo so, if you can manage it, but I know that what you want is impossible.

1HERMESZeus says you’re not to go out driving today, Mr. Sun-god, or tomorrow or the next day. You’ve to stay at home, and all that time’s to be one long night; so the Hours†can unyoke your horses, and you can put out your fire and have a nice long rest. HELIOSA strange message you’ve brought, Hermes. Why, I’ve never heard the like of it! He doesn’t think I’ve been going off my course and breaking bounds, does he? He’s not annoyed with me, that he’s decided to make the night three times as long as the day? HERMESNot a bit of it. This won’t go on for ever; but for this once, it’s his personal wish that he should get a longer night at this time. HELIOSWhere is he? Where were you sent from with this message? HERMESFrom Boeotia, Mr. Sun, from Amphitryon’s wife.†He’s been keeping company with her. He’s in love with her. HELIOSIsn’t one night enough, then? HERMESNot at all. From this romance must come one who is mighty and fit for many labours; so they can’t do justice to him in a single night.

2HELIOSWell, I hope he makes a success of the job, though I must say, Hermes, this sort of thing didn’t happen in Cronos’ day. (It’s all right, we’re alone.) He would never sleep away from Rhea,†or leave heaven for a bed in Thebes, but day was day, and night night, varying only within their proper limits with the seasons of the year, with none of these strange upheavals. No, Cronos would never have had anything to do with a mortal woman. Now, however, for some poor miserable woman, everything must be turned topsy-turvy, my horses become stiff for want of exercise, the road grows difficult, left untrodden for three days on end, and men must spend a miserable time in the dark. That’s what they’ll get from Zeus’ love-affairs. Why, they’ll have to sit waiting in darkness for hours, till he finishes his job on the labouring fellow you’ve been telling me about. HERMESQuiet, Mr. Sun, or your words may get you into trouble. I’ll be off now to the Moon and to Sleep, and pass on Zeus’ instructions to them too, telling her to take her time, and Sleep not to leave men, so that they may not know the night’s been so long.

1ZEUSStop quarrelling, you two; you’re just like a couple of men. It’s quite improper and out of place at the table of the gods. HERACLESBut, Zeus, do you really mean this medicine man to have a place above me? ASCLEPIUSHe does, by Zeus, for I’m your better. HERACLESHow, you crackbrain? Because Zeus blasted you with his thunderbolt for your impious doings,†and you’ve now received immortality because he relented and pitied you? ASCLEPIUSYou must have forgotten, Heracles, how you too were scorched to death on Oeta,†that you taunt me with getting burned. HERACLESThat doesn’t mean our lives were the same. I’m the son of Zeus, and performed all those labours cleaning up the world, by overcoming monsters, and punishing men of violence; but you’re just a herb-chopper and quack, useful perhaps among suffering humanity for administering potions, but without one manly deed to show.

2ASCLEPIUSHave you nothing to say of how I healed your burns, when you came up half-scorched the other day? Between the tunic and the fire after it, your body was in a fine mess. Besides, if nothing else, I was never a slave like you, carding wool in Lydia, wearing purple, and being beaten with Omphale’s†golden sandal. What’s more, I never killed my wife†and children in a fit of spleen. HERACLESIf you don’t stop insulting me, you’ll pretty soon find out that your immortality won’t help you much. I’ll pick you up and throw you head first out of heaven, so that you’ll crack your skull, and not even Apollo the Healer will be able to do anything for you. ZEUSStop it, I say; don’t disturb our dinner-party, or I’ll send you both from the table. But it’s only reasonable, Heracles, that Asclepius should have a place above you, as he died before you.

1HERMESWhy so down in the mouth, Apollo? APOLLOIt’s my bad luck in love, Hermes. HERMESAh, yes, that could well make a chap sad. But what’s your bad luck? Still sore about Daphne? APOLLOOh, no; I’m in mourning for my Laconian darling, Oebalus’ son. HERMESIs Hyacinthus dead then? APOLLOHe certainly is. HERMESWho did it, Apollo? Who was so insensible to charm as to kill that lovely boy? APOLLOI did it with my own hand. HERMESWhat! Were you mad, Apollo? APOLLONo, it was an unlucky accident. HERMESHow? I’d like to hear how it happened.

2APOLLOHe was learning to throw the quoit, and I was throwing it with him, when Zephyrus did it—curse that wind above them all—Zephyrus, too, had been in love with him for a long time, but the boy wouldn’t look at him, and he couldn’t stand his contempt. Well, I threw my quoit as usual, and Zephyrus blew down from Taygetus, and dashed it down on the boy’s head. Blood poured out where it hit him, and he died on the spot, poor lad. I shot back at Zephyrus with my arrows and chased him hard, all the way back to the mountain. The boy I’ve had buried in Amyclae, where he was struck down by the discus, and I’ve made the earth send up from his blood the sweetest and fairest flower of them all, one which bears lettering†of mourning for the dead one. Do you think it’s unreasonable of me to have a broken heart? HERMESYes I do, my good chap. You knew you’d chosen a mortal to love; so you mustn’t be vexed at his death.

1HERMESTo think, Apollo, that a poor cripple and mere artisan like him has married the two fairest of the fair, Aphrodite and Charis!†APOLLOThat’s just good luck, my dear fellow; but what does surprise me is that they can stand living with him, especially when they see him bathed in sweat, bending over his furnace, with soot all over his face. And yet they embrace a creature like that and kiss him and sleep with him. HERMESThat annoys me too, and makes me jealous of Hephaestus. You can show off your fine hair, Apollo, and play on your harp, and be proud of your beauty, and I of my fine physique and my lyre, but when it comes to bedtime, we’ve got to sleep alone.

2APOLLOI’m Generally unlucky in love; at least I lost my two special sweethearts, Daphne and Hyacinthus. Daphne so loathes and shuns me that she’s chosen to turn into a tree rather than share my company, and Hyacinthus was killed by that quoit. All that’s left of them for me is wreaths. HERMESAnd I once with Aphrodite—but I mustn’t boast. APOLLOI know. They say she presented you with Hermaphroditus. But tell me, if you can, why Aphrodite and Charis are not jealous of each other.

3HERMESBecause, my dear fellow, Charis keeps company with him in Lemnos, and Aphrodite in heaven. Besides, Aphrodite is most wrapped up in Ares, and in love with him, and so doesn’t trouble much about this blacksmith fellow. APOLLODo you think Hephaestus knows of this? HERMESOf course he does, but what can he do when he sees Ares is such a fine strapping young fellow, and a man of war? So he keeps quiet. But he’s threatening to invent some sort of trap†for them, and to catch them in a net on the bed. APOLLOThat’s news to me; but I know I’d like to be destined to fall into that trap myself.

1HERAMy dear Leto, the children†you’ve given to Zeus are beautiful too. LETOMy dear Hera, we can’t all have children like Hephaestus. HERACripple though he is, he’s certainly useful; he’s an excellent craftsman, and has done a fine job of work on our heaven; what’s more, he’s married Aphrodite, and she thinks the world of him, but as for your children—the girl’s far too much of a tomboy and roamer of the mountains, and now, to cap it all, she’s gone off to Scythia, and everyone knows about her diet there, how she murders visitors and eats them, just like the Scythian cannibals†themselves; while Apollo pretends to know everything, be it archery, harping, medicine or prophecy, and has set up prophecy factories in Delphi, Claros, Colophon and Didyma, deceiving his customers by giving crooked replies, hedging between two possible answers, so that there’s no risk of a slip-up. He gets rich in this way, for there are plenty of fools as willing victims of his quackery. However, the more intelligent people see through most of his mystery-mongering. The prophet himself didn’t know he was going to kill his darling†with that quoit, and didn’t foretell that Daphne would run away from him, for all his beauty and fine hair. So I can’t see why you thought you had better children than Niobe.

2LETOAnyway, I know how it vexes you to see my children among the gods, murderer and false prophet though you call them—particularly when they praise my daughter for her beauty, and all admire my son for his harp-playing at dinner. HERAYou make me laugh, Leto. Who could admire one that Marsyas would have beaten at music and skinned alive with his own hands, if the Muses had chosen to judge fairly? But as it was, he was tricked and wrongly lost the vote, poor fellow, and had to die. And your pretty maid is so pretty that, when she found out that Actaeon had seen her, she was afraid the young fellow would tell everyone how hideous she was, and set her hounds on him. I won’t bother pointing out she could never have been a midwife,†if she were a virgin herself. LETOLiving with Zeus and sharing his throne has swollen your head, Hera, and so you don’t mind how you insult others. But it won’t be long before I see you in tears again—the next time he leaves you and goes down to earth as a bull or swan.

1APHRODITEWhat’s this I hear you’re up to, Mistress Moon? They say that every time you get over Caria, you stop your team and gaze at Endymion sleeping out of doors in hunter’s fashion, and sometimes even leave your course and go down to him. SELENEAsk your own son, Aphrodite; it’s his fault. APHRODITEYou needn’t tell me. He’s got a cheek right enough. See what he’s done to me, his own mother. First he brought me down to Ida after Anchises the Trojan, and then to Mount Libanus after that Assyrian lad; and then he made Persephone fall in love with the boy and robbed me of half my sweetheart. So I’ve threatened him time and again, if he doesn’t stop it, I’ll smash his archery set and strip off his wings. Last time I even took my sandal to his behind. But somehow or other, though he’s scared for the moment and begs for mercy, it’s not long before he’s forgotten all about it.

2APHRODITEBut tell me, is Endymion good-looking? If so, your plight is sorry indeed. SELENEI think he’s very good-looking, Aphrodite, especially when he sleeps with his cloak under him on the rock, with his javelins just slipping out of his left hand as he holds them, and his right hand bent upwards round his head and framing his face makes a charming picture, while he’s relaxed in sleep and breathing in the sweetest way imaginable. Then I creep down quietly on tip-toe, so as not to waken him and give him a fright, and then—but you can guess; there’s no need to tell you what happens next. You must remember I’m dying of love.

1APHRODITEEros, my boy, you must watch what you’re about. I don’t mean on earth, when you persuade men to work against themselves or each other, but in heaven too, when you make Zeus turn into shape after shape, changing him into whatever you choose for the time, and bring Lady Moon down from the sky, and sometimes keep the Sun-god lingering at Clymene’s side forgetful of his driving. You may go scot-free for the liberties you take with me, your mother but you’ve had the audacity even to turn the thoughts of Rhea to love of boys and have her pining for that Phrygian lad†—at her time of life, too, and she the mother of so many gods! Now you’ve driven her mad, and she’s taken her team of lions and her Corybants, who are just as mad as herself, and is wandering up and down Ida; she keeps shrieking for Attis, while the Corybants slash their arms with swords, or let down their hair and rush madly over the mountains, or blow on the horn, thunder on the drums, or bang cymbals; it’s just chaotic frenzy all over Ida. So I fear everything; yes, your mother’s afraid of such goings on, for you’re just one big nuisance, and I’m scared that one day Rhea, in a fit of madness, or, more likely, when still in her right mind, will tell her Corybants to catch you and tear you to pieces or throw you to her lions. That’s what I fear, when I see you running such risks.

2EROSDon’t worry, mother; I’m quite used to the lions already; I often get up on their backs, grab hold of their manes and have a ride on them, and they make a fuss of me, letting me put my hand in their mouths, and licking it all over, and then let me take it out again. But what time will Rhea have to devote to me? She’s thinking of Attis the whole time. Anyway, what harm do I do by showing what beauty is like? It’s up to you to keep your hands off things of beauty; so you shouldn’t blame me for this. Or would you rather stop loving Ares and have him stop loving you? APHRODITEHow smart you are. Got us all under your thumb, haven’t you? But you’ll remember what I’ve been saying one day.

1APOLLOWhat’s the joke, Hermes? HERMESIt’s the funniest thing I ever saw, Apollo. APOLLOWell tell me, so that I too can hear and share the joke. HERMESAphrodite has been surprised with Ares, and Hephaestus has caught them and tied them up.†APOLLOHow? It sounds as if you have a good story to tell. HERMESHe’d known about all this for a long time, and had been out to catch them. He put invisible cords round the bed, and went off to work at his furnace. Then Ares crept in, unnoticed, as he thought, but the Sun-god saw him and told Hephaestus. And when they’d got on the bed, and were in the act, and in his trap, the cords folded themselves round about them, and Hephaestus put in an appearance. Aphrodite, being in the nude, was most embarrassed that she couldn’t hide her nakedness, while Ares tried at first to escape, hoping to break the cords, but later on, realising he was prisoner and couldn’t escape, kept begging for mercy.

2APOLLOAnd what’s happened? Has Hephaestus let him go? HERMESNot yet, but he’s got all the gods together, and is showing them the guilty pair. They’re lying there bound together naked, hiding their faces and blushing, and I must say I found it a most delightful spectacle. Why, they’re almost in the act. APOLLOIsn’t that blacksmith ashamed himself to put on show this insult to his marriage? HERMESNot a bit of it. He’s standing over them, chortling. But I personally, if truth must be told, envied Ares for having made a conquest of the fairest of the goddesses, and even for being a fellow-prisoner with her. APOLLODo you mean you wouldn’t have minded being tied up in such circumstances? HERMESWould you, my dear fellow? Just come and have a look. If you don’t make the same wish when you’ve seen them, you’ll earn my praise.

1HERAI’d be ashamed of such a son, if he were mine, Zeus. He’s so effeminate, and such a degenerate sot, putting ribbons in his hair, spending most of his time with mad women, himself a bigger softie than any of them, and dancing to drums, pipes and cymbals. Indeed he’s like anyone but you his father, Zeus. ZEUSYet, Hera, this wearer of females’ ribbons, this “bigger softie than the women”, has subdued Lydia and the inhabitants of Tmolus, and forced the Thracians into subjection; he’s been on an expedition against Indians with this army of women, capturing their elephants and seizing their country, and when their king dared to stand up to him for a little, he took him prisoner and carried him off; and while he was doing all this, he was dancing and cavorting the whole time, and used nothing but wands of ivy, drunk and possessed though you say he was. And if any one dares to scoff at his rites and insult him, punishes him by tying him up with vine-twigs *, or makes the mans mother tear him to pieces as though he were a fawn.†Can’t you see in this manly courage, worthy of his father? If these activities are accompanied by fun and soft living, why grudge him these things, especially if you imagine what he would be like if sober, when he can do this when tipsy?

2HERAIt sounds as if you’ll be all for his invention, too—I mean the vine and its juice—though you see how drunks behave, staggering about and turning to violence, quite maddened by their drink. Take Icarius†, the first one to whom he gave the vine—he was killed by his boon companions with mattocks. ZEUSThat doesn’t get you anywhere. You can’t blame wine or Dionysus for such things, but drinking to excess, and swilling down neat wine beyond what’s decent. But the man who drinks in moderation will become more cheerful and better company, and never treat any of his cronies as Icarius was treated. I see what’s wrong with you, Hera; you’re still jealous and haven’t forgotten Semele, judging by the way you find fault with all that’s best in Dionysus.

1APHRODITEWhy is it, Eros, that though you’ve triumphed over all the other gods, Zeus, Poseidon, Apollo, Rhea and myself, your mother, you make an exception of Athena and keep clear of her, and for her your torch has no fire, your quiver no arrows, and you no bow or sense of aim? EROSI’m afraid of her, mother. She scares me with her flashing eyes, and she’s terribly like a man. Why, when I string my bow and go after her, I get terrified at the first shake of her crest, and start trembling and dropping my arrows from my hands. APHRODITEWell, didn’t you find Ares more frightening? Yet you disarmed him and conquered him. EROSNo. He’s glad to welcome and encourage me, but Athena always glowers at me. Once I just flew past with my torch near her, and says she, “If you come near me, as sure as I’m Zeus’ daughter, I’ll run my spear through you, or catch you by the foot and throw you into Tartarus, or I’ll tear you to bits with my own hands and then”—she hurled many threats like that at me. Besides she stares at me so grimly and, oh, she’s got on her breast that terrible face with the snaky hair—that’s what scares me most of all. It gives me the creeps and makes me run the moment I see it.

2APHRODITEDo you mean to tell me you’re afraid of Athena and her Gorgon, though you don’t fear the thunderbolt of Zeus? But why do you leave the Muses unwounded? Why are they safe from your arrows? Do they too have tossing plumes and Gorgons on display? EROSI have respect for them, mother; they’re so solemn, always with something to think about or busy with their music; I often stand beside them, bewitched by their melodies. APHRODITENever mind them, then, seeing that they’re so solemn; but why don’t you wound Artemis? EROSIt’s quite impossible to catch her; she’s always running away over the mountains. Besides, she’s now got a love of her own. APHRODITEAnd its object, my child? EROSHunting deer and fawn, chasing them and catching them, or shooting them down; that’s all she cares about. But that brother of hers, though he’s an archer too and a long shot— APHRODITEI know, my boy, you’ve hit him often enough with your arrows.

1ZEUSSee what you’ve done, you confounded Titan! You’ve destroyed everything on the earth by trusting a foolish boy†with your car. Some places he’s scorched by driving close to the earth, and elsewhere he’s frozen everything to death by taking the heat right away, bringing chaos and confusion on the whole wide world. Why, if I hadn’t realised what was afoot, and brought him down with my thunderbolt, there’d have been nothing left of mankind. A pretty poor driver of the chariot you sent us out—for all his good looks! SUNIt’s all my fault, Zeus, but don’t be angry with me for giving in to my boy. He kept nagging at me to let him. How could I have expected such trouble to follow? ZEUSDidn’t you know what a delicate operation it was, how getting the least bit off course spoils everything? Didn’t you know how the horses are full of mettle and need a tight rein? Let it go slack, and they take the bit in their teeth right away, as of course they did with him, running away with him, now to the left, and after a moment to the right, and sometimes right back on their tracks, and up and down, doing just what they liked, and he didn’t know how to deal with them.

2SUNI knew all that. That’s why I held out for a long time and wouldn’t trust him to drive. But when he started weeping and begging and imploring, and his mother Clymene joined in, I planted him in the car and told him how to stand, how long he was to climb giving the horses their head, how long to descend again, and how to be in control of the reins and keep his mettlesome team in check. Yes, and I warned him how dangerous it was not to drive straight, but the poor boy, mounted on so great a fire and looking down on yawning space, lost his nerve, and can you wonder? Then the horses, sensing it wasn’t me in the chariot, didn’t care two hoots for the lad and left their course with these terrible results. He dropped the reins—I suppose he was afraid of falling out, and clung to the rail. But he’s already had his punishment, Zeus, and my grief is punishment enough for me.

3ZEUSPunishment enough, you say, for such effrontery? All right, I forgive you this time, but if ever again you commit such an offence, or send out another like him in your place, you’ll soon find out my thunderbolt’s a lot hotter than your fire. The boy, then, can be buried by his sisters beside the Eridanus, where he fell after the spill. They can weep tears of amber over him and become poplars in their sorrow, and you’d better patch up your car—the pole’s broken and one of the wheels is in smithereens—bring up your horses and get on with your round. And I hope you won’t forget all this in a hurry.

1APOLLOCan you tell me, Hermes, which of these two is Castor and which is Pollux? I can’t tell them apart. HERMESThe one with us yesterday was Castor, this one is Pollux. APOLLOHow can you tell? They look identical. HERMESThis one, Apollo, has on his face the marks of the injuries he’s got from his opponents when boxing, and especially from Bebryx, the son of Amycus,†when he sailed on that expedition with Jason. The other has no marks like that; his face is free from blemish. APOLLOThanks for telling me the difference, for all the rest’s the same, the half egg-shell on the head, and the star above it, the javelin in the hand, and a white horse each; so I’ve often called Pollux Castor and Castor Pollux. And there’s something else you can tell me. Why don’t we see them together? Why do they take turns of being dead and being a god?

2HERMESThat’s because of their brotherly love. When one of the sons of Leda had to die, and one to be immortal, they shared out the immortality in this way themselves. APOLLONot a very clever way of sharing it, was it, Hermes? This way they won’t even see each other, and that’s what they wanted most of all, I take it. How can they, when one’s with the gods and one with the dead? Another thing; I play the prophet, Asclepius goes in for doctoring, you teach wrestling and are an excellent trainer, Artemis is a mid-wife,†and everyone else among us has some special craft, which helps gods or men. But what will we get them to do? We can’t have big strapping fellows like them sitting in idleness all day stuffing themselves. HERMESYou needn’t worry. They’ve been put on to serving Poseidon; they must ride over†the sea, and anywhere they see sailors in a storm, they must perch on the vessel and keep the crew safe. APOLLOA useful vocation that, Hermes, and one of salvation.