Ἑρμῆς τί σκυθρωπός, ὦ Ἄπολλον;
Ἀπόλλων ὅτι, ὦ Ἑρμῆ, δυστυχῶ ἐν τοῖς ἐρωτικοῖς.
Ἑρμῆς ἄξιον μὲν λύπης τὸ τοιοῦτο· σὺ δὲ τί δυστυχεῖς; ἢ τὸ κατὰ τὴν Δάφνην σε λυπεῖ ἔτι;
Ἀπόλλων οὐδαμῶς· ἀλλὰ ἐρώμενον πενθῶ τὸν Λάκωνα τὸν Οἰβάλου.
Ἑρμῆς τέθνηκε γάρ, εἰπέ μοι, ὁ Ὑάκινθος;
Ἀπόλλων καὶ μάλα.
Ἑρμῆς πρὸς τίνος, ὦ Ἄπολλον; ἢ τίς οὕτως ἀνέραστος ἦν ὡς ἀποκτεῖναι τὸ καλὸν ἐκεῖνο μειράκιον;
Ἀπόλλων αὐτοῦ ἐμοῦ τὸ ἔργον.
Ἑρμῆς οὐκοῦν ἐμάνης, ὦ Ἄπολλον;
Ἀπόλλων οὔκ, ἀλλὰ δυστύχημά τι ἀκούσιον ἐγένετο.
Ἑρμῆς πῶς; ἐθέλω γὰρ ἀκοῦσαι τὸν τρόπον.
Ἀπόλλων δισκεύειν ἐμάνθανε κἀγὼ συνεδίσκευον αὐτῷ, ὁ δὲ κάκιστα ἀνέμων ἀπολούμενος ὁ Ζέφυρος ἤρα μὲν ἐκ πολλοῦ καὶ αὐτός, ἀμελούμενος δὲ καὶ μὴ φέρων τὴν ὑπεροψίαν, ἐγὼ μὲν ἀνέρριψα, ὥσπερ εἰώθειμεν, τὸν δίσκον ἐς τὸ ἄνω, ὁ δὲ ἀπὸ τοῦ Ταϋγέτου καταπνεύσας ἐπὶ κεφαλὴν τῷ παιδὶ ἐνέσεισε φέρων αὐτόν, ὥστε ἀπὸ τῆς πληγῆς αἷμά τε ῥυῆναι πολὺ καὶ τὸν παῖδα εὐθέως ἀποθανεῖν. ἀλλὰ ἐγὼ τὸν μὲν Ζέφυρον αὐτίκα ἠμυνάμην κατατοξεύσας, φεύγοντι ἐπισπόμενος ἄχρι τοῦ ὄρους, τῷ παιδὶ δὲ καὶ τὸν τάφον μὲν ἐχωσάμην ἐν Ἀμύκλαις, ὅπου ὁ δίσκος αὐτὸν κατέβαλε, καὶ ἀπὸ τοῦ αἵματος ἄνθος ἀναδοῦναι τὴν γῆν ἐποίησα ἥδιστον, ὦ Ἑρμῆ, καὶ εὐανθέστατον ἀνθέων ἁπάντων, ἔτι καὶ γράμματα ἔχον ἐπαιάζοντα τῷ νεκρῷ. ἆρά σοι ἀλόγως λελυπῆσθαι δοκῶ;
Ἑρμῆς ναί, ὦ Ἄπολλον· ᾔδεις γὰρ θνητὸν πεποιημένος τὸν ἐρώμενον· ὥστε μὴ ἄχθου ἀποθανόντος.
HERMES Why so sad, Apollo?
APOLLO Alas, Hermes,—my love!
HERMES Oh; that’s bad. What, are you still brooding over that affair of Daphne?
APOLLO No. I grieve for my beloved; the Laconian, the son of Oebalus.
HERMES Hyacinth? he is not dead?
APOLLO Dead.
HERMES Who killed him? Who could have the heart? That lovely boy!
APOLLO It was the work of my own hand.
HERMES You must have been mad!
APOLLO Not mad; it was an accident.
HERMES Oh? and how did it happen?
APOLLO He was learning to throw the quoit, and I was throwing with him. I had just sent my quoit up into the air as usual, when jealous Zephyr (damned be he above all winds! he had long been in love with Hyacinth, though Hyacinth would have nothing to say to him)—Zephyr came blustering down from Taygetus, and dashed the quoit upon the child’s head; blood flowed from the wound in streams, and in one moment all was over. My first thought was of revenge; I lodged an arrow in Zephyr, and pursued his flight to the mountain. As for the child, I buried him at Amyclae, on the fatal spot; and from his blood I have caused a flower to spring up, sweetest, fairest of flowers, inscribed with letters of woe.—Is my grief unreasonable?
HERMES It is, Apollo. You knew that you had set your heart upon a mortal: grieve not then for his mortality.
Ἑρμῆς τὸ δὲ καὶ χωλὸν αὐτὸν ὄντα καὶ χαλκέα τὴν τέχνην, ὦ Ἄπολλον, τὰς καλλίστας γεγαμηκέναι, τήν τε Ἀφροδίτην καὶ τὴν Χάριν.
Ἀπόλλων Εὐποτμία τις, ὦ Ἑρμῆ· πλὴν ἐκεῖνό γε θαυμάζω, τὸ ἀνέχεσθαι συνούσας αὐτῷ, καὶ μάλιστα ὅταν ὁρῶσιν ἱδρῶτι ῥεόμενον, ἐς τὴν κάμινον ἐπικεκυφότα, πολὺν αἴθαλον ἐπὶ τοῦ προσώπου ἔχοντα· καὶ ὅμως τοιοῦτον ὄντα περιβάλλουσί τε αὐτὸν καὶ φιλοῦσι καὶ ξυγκαθεύδουσι.
Ἑρμῆς τοῦτο καὶ αὐτὸς ἀγανακτῶ καὶ τῷ Ἡφαίστῳ φθονῶ· σὺ δὲ κόμα, ὦ Ἄπολλον, καὶ κιθάριζε καὶ μέγα ἐπὶ τῷ κάλλει φρόνει, κἀγὼ ἐπὶ τῇ εὐεξίᾳ καὶ τῇ λύρᾳ· εἶτα, ἐπειδὰν κοιμᾶσθαι δέῃ, μόνοι καθευδήσομεν.
Ἀπόλλων ἐγὼ μὲν καὶ ἄλλως ἀναφρόδιτός εἰμι ἐς τὰ ἐρωτικά· δύο γοῦν, οὓς μάλιστα ἠγάπησα, τὴν Δάφνην καὶ τὸν Ὑάκινθον, ἡ μὲν Δάφνη οὕτως ἐμίσησέ με, ὥστε εἵλετο ξύλον γενέσθαι μᾶλλον ἢ ἐμοὶ ξυνεῖναι, τὸν Ὑάκινθον δὲ ὑπὸ τοῦ δίσκου ἀπώλεσα, καὶ νῦν ἀντʼ ἐκείνων στεφάνους ἔχω.
Ἑρμῆς ἐγὼ δὲ ἤδη ποτὲ τὴν Ἀφροδίτην — ἀλλὰ οὐ χρὴ αὐχεῖν.
Ἀπόλλων οἶδα, καὶ τὸν Ἑρμαφρόδιτον ἐκ σοῦ λέγεται τεκεῖν. πλὴν ἐκεῖνό μοι εἰπέ, εἴ τι οἶσθα, πῶς οὐ ζηλοτυπεῖ ἡ Ἀφροδίτη τὴν Χάριν ἢ ἡ Χάρις ταύτην;
Ἑρμῆς ὅτι, ὦ Ἄπολλον, ἐκείνη μὲν αὐτῷ ἐν τῇ Λήμνῳ σύνεστιν, ἡ δὲ Ἀφροδίτη ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ· ἄλλως τε περὶ τὸν Ἄρη ἔχει τὰ πολλὰ κἀκείνου ἐρᾷ, ὥστε ὀλίγον αὐτῇ τοῦ χαλκέως τούτου μέλει.
Ἀπόλλων καὶ ταῦτα οἴει τὸν Ἥφαιστον εἰδέναι;
Ἑρμῆς οἶδεν· ἀλλὰ τί ἂν δρᾶσαι δύναιτο γενναῖον ὁρῶν νεανίαν καὶ στρατιώτην αὐτόν; ὥστε τὴν ἡσυχίαν ἄγει· πλὴν ἀπειλεῖ γε δεσμά τινα ἐπιμηχανήσεσθαι αὐτοῖς καὶ συλλήψεσθαι σαγηνεύσας ἐπὶ τῆς εὐνῆς.
Ἀπόλλων οὐκ οἶδα· εὐξαίμην δʼ ἂν αὐτὸς ὁ ξυλληφθησόμενος εἶναι.
HERMES To think that a cripple and a blacksmith like him should marry two such queens of beauty as Aphrodite and Charis!
APOLLO Luck, Hermes—that is all. But I do wonder at their putting up with his company; they see him running with sweat, bent over the forge, all sooty-faced; and yet they cuddle and kiss him, and sleep with him!
HERMES Yes, it makes me angry too; how I envy him! Ah, Apollo, you may let your locks grow, and play your harp, and be proud of your looks; I am a healthy fellow, and can touch the lyre; but, when it comes to bedtime, we lie alone.
APOLLO Well, my loves never prosper; Daphne and Hyacinth were my great passions; she so detested me that being turned to a tree was more attractive than I; and him I killed with a quoit. Nothing is left me of them but wreaths of their leaves and flowers.
HERMES Ah, once, once, I and Aphrodite—but no; no boasting.
APOLLO I know; that is how Hermaphroditus is accounted for. But perhaps you can tell me how it is that Aphrodite and Charis are not jealous of one another.
HERMES Because one is his wife in Lemnus and the other in Heaven. Besides, Aphrodite cares most about Ares; he is her real love; so she does not trouble her head about the blacksmith.
APOLLO Do you think Hephaestus sees?
HERMES Oh, he sees, yes; but what can he do? he knows what a martial young fellow it is; so he holds his tongue. He talks of inventing a net, though, to take them in the act with.
APOLLO Ah, all I know is, I would not mind being taken in that act.
Ἥρα καλὰ μέν, ὦ Λητοῖ, καὶ τὰ τέκνα ἔτεκες τῷ Διί.
Λητώ οὐ πᾶσαι, ὦ Ἥρα, τοιούτους τίκτειν δυνάμεθα, οἷος ὁ Ἥφαιστός ἐστιν.
Ἥρα ἀλλὰ οὗτος μὲν ὁ χωλὸς ὅμως χρήσιμός γε ἐστι τεχνίτης ὢν ἄριστος καὶ κατακεκόσμηκεν ἡμῖν τὸν οὐρανὸν καὶ τὴν Ἀφροδίτην ἔγημε καὶ σπουδάζεται πρὸς αὐτῆς, οἱ δὲ σοὶ παῖδες ἡ μὲν αὐτῶν ἀρρενικὴ πέρα τοῦ μετρίου καὶ ὄρειος, καὶ τὸ τελευταῖον ἐς τὴν Σκυθίαν ἀπελθοῦσα πάντες ἴσασιν οἷα ἐσθίει ξενοκτονοῦσα καὶ μιμουμένη τοὺς Σκύθας αὐτοὺς ἀνθρωποφάγους ὄντας· ὁ δὲ Ἀπόλλων προσποιεῖται μὲν πάντα εἰδέναι καὶ τοξεύειν καὶ κιθαρίζειν καὶ ἰατρὸς εἶναι καὶ μαντεύεσθαι καὶ καταστησάμενος ἐργαστήρια τῆς μαντικῆς τὸ μὲν ἐν Δελφοῖς, τὸ δὲ ἐν Κλάρῳ καὶ ἐν Διδύμοις ἐξαπατᾷ τοὺς χρωμένους αὐτῷ λοξὰ καὶ ἐπαμφοτερίζοντα πρὸς ἑκάτερον τῆς ἐρωτήσεως ἀποκρινόμενος, ὡς ἀκίνδυνον εἶναι τὸ σφάλμα. καὶ πλουτεῖ μὲν ἀπὸ τοῦ τοιούτου· πολλοὶ γὰρ οἱ ἀνόητοι καὶ παρέχοντες αὑτοὺς καταγοητεύεσθαι· πλὴν οὐκ ἀγνοεῖταί γε ὑπὸ τῶν ξυνετωτέρων τὰ πολλὰ τερατευόμενος· αὐτὸς γοῦν ὁ μάντις ἠγνόει μὲν ὅτι φονεύσει τὸν ἐρώμενον τῷ δίσκῳ, οὐ προεμαντεύσατο δὲ ὡς φεύξεται αὐτὸν ἡ Δάφνη, καὶ ταῦτα οὕτω καλὸν καὶ κομήτην ὄντα. ὥστε οὐχ ὁρῶ καθότι καλλιτεκνοτέρα τῆς Νιόβης ἔδοξας.
Λητώ ταῦτα μέντοι τὰ τέκνα, ἡ ξενοκτόνος καὶ ὁ ψευδόμαντις, οἶδα, ὅπως λυπεῖ σε ὁρώμενα ἐν τοῖς θεοῖς, καὶ μάλιστα ὁπόταν ἡ μὲν ἐπαινῆται ἐς τὸ κάλλος, ὁ δὲ κιθαρίζῃ ἐν τῷ συμποσίῳ θαυμαζόμενος ὑφʼ ἁπάντων.
Ἥρα ἐγέλασα, ὦ Λητοῖ· ἐκεῖνος θαυμαστός, ὃν ὁ Μαρσύας, εἰ τὰ δίκαια αἱ Μοῦσαι δικάσαι ἤθελον, ἀπέδειρεν ἂν αὐτὸς κρατήσας τῇ μουσικῇ· νῦν δὲ κατασοφισθεὶς ἄθλιος ἀπόλωλεν ἀδίκως ἁλούς· ἡ δὲ καλή σου παρθένος οὕτω καλή ἐστιν, ὥστε ἐπεὶ ἔμαθεν ὀφθεῖσα ὑπὸ τοῦ Ἀκταίωνος, φοβηθεῖσα μὴ ὁ νεανίσκος ἐξαγορεύσῃ τὸ αἶσχος αὐτῆς, ἐπαφῆκεν αὐτῷ τοὺς κύνας· ἐῶ γὰρ λέγειν ὅτι οὐδὲ τὰς τεκούσας ἐμαιοῦτο παρθένος γε αὐτὴ οὖσα.
Λητώ μέγα, ὦ Ἥρα, φρονεῖς, ὅτι ξύνει τῷ Διὶ καὶ συμβασιλεύεις αὐτῷ, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο ὑβρίζεις ἀδεῶς· πλὴν ἀλλʼ ὄψομαί σε μετʼ ὀλίγον αὖθις δακρύουσαν, ὁπόταν σε καταλιπὼν ἐς τὴν γῆν κατίῃ ταῦρος ἢ κύκνος γενόμενος.
HERA I must congratulate you, madam, on the children with whom you have presented Zeus.
LETO Ah, madam; we cannot all be the proud mothers of Hephaestuses.
HERA My boy may be a cripple, but at least he is of some use. He is a wonderful smith, and has made Heaven look another place; and Aphrodite thought him worth marrying, and dotes on him still. But those two of yours !—that girl is wild and mannish to a degree; and now she has gone off to Scythia, and her doings there are no secret; she is as bad as any Scythian herself,—butchering strangers and eating them! Apollo, too, who pretends to be so clever, with his bow and his lyre and his medicine and his prophecies; those oracle-shops that he has opened at Delphi, and Clarus, and Dindyma, are a cheat; he takes good care to be on the safe side by giving ambiguous answers that no one can understand, and makes money out of it, for there are plenty of fools who like being imposed upon,—but sensible people know well enough that most of it is clap-trap. The prophet did not know that he was to kill his favourite with a quoit; he never foresaw that Daphne would run away from him, so handsome as he is, too, such beautiful hair! I am not sure, after all, that there is much to choose between your children and Niobe’s.
LETO Oh, of course; my children are butchers and impostors. I know how you hate the sight of them. You cannot bear to hear my girl complimented on her looks, or my boy’s playing admired by the company.
HERA His playing, madam!—excuse a smile;—why, if the Muses had not favoured him, his contest with Marsyas would have cost him his skin; poor Marsyas was shamefully used on that occasion; ‘twas a judicial murder.—As for your charming daughter, when Actaeon once caught sight of her charms, she had to set the dogs upon him, for fear he should tell all he knew: I forbear to ask where the innocent child picked up her knowledge of obstetrics.
LETO You set no small value on yourself, madam, because you are the wife of Zeus, and share his throne; you may insult whom you please. But there will be tears presently, when the next bull or swan sets out on his travels, and you are left neglected.
Ἀφροδίτη τί ταῦτα, ὦ Σελήνη, φασὶ ποιεῖν σε; ὁπόταν κατὰ τὴν Καρίαν γένῃ, ἱστάναι μέν σε τὸ ζεῦγος ἀφορῶσαν ἐς τὸν Ἐνδυμίωνα καθεύδοντα ὑπαίθριον ἅτε κυνηγέτην ὄντα, ἐνίοτε δὲ καὶ καταβαίνειν παρʼ αὐτὸν ἐκ μέσης τῆς ὁδοῦ;
Σελήνης ἐρώτα, ὦ Ἀφροδίτη, τὸν σὸν υἱόν, ὅς μοι τούτων αἴτιος.
Ἀφροδίτη ἔα· ἐκεῖνος ὑβριστής ἐστιν· ἐμὲ γοῦν αὐτὴν τὴν μητέρα οἷα δέδρακεν, ἄρτι μὲν ἐς τὴν Ἴδην κατάγων Ἀγχίσου ἕνεκα τοῦ Ἰλιέως, ἄρτι δὲ ἐς τὸν Λίβανον ἐπὶ τὸ Ἀσσύριον ἐκεῖνο μειράκιον, ὃ καὶ τῇ Φερσεφάττῃ ἐπέραστον ποιήσας ἐξ ἡμισείας ἀφείλετό με τὸν ἐρώμενον· ὥστε πολλάκις ἠπείλησα, εἰ μὴ παύσεται τοιαῦτα ποιῶν, κλάσειν μὲν αὐτοῦ τὰ τόξα καὶ τὴν φαρέτραν, περιαιρήσειν δὲ καὶ τὰ πτερά· ἤδη δὲ καὶ πληγὰς αὐτῷ ἐνέτεινα ἐς τὰς πυγὰς τῷ σανδάλῳ· ὁ δὲ οὐκ οἶδʼ ὅπως τὸ παραυτίκα δεδιὼς καὶ ἱκετεύων μετʼ ὀλίγον ἐπιλέλησται ἁπάντων.
Ἀφροδίτη ἀτὰρ εἰπέ μοι, καλὸς ὁ Ἐνδυμίων ἐστίν; εὐπαραμύθητον γὰρ οὕτως τὸ δεινόν.
Σελήνης ἐμοὶ μὲν καὶ πάνυ καλός, ὦ Ἀφροδίτη, δοκεῖ, καὶ μάλιστα ὅταν ὑποβαλόμενος ἐπὶ τῆς πέτρας τὴν χλαμύδα καθεύδῃ τῇ λαιᾷ μὲν ἔχων τὰ ἀκόντια ἤδη ἐκ τῆς χειρὸς ὑπορρέοντα, ἡ δεξιὰ δὲ περὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν ἐς τὸ ἄνω ἐπικεκλασμένη ἐπιπρέπῃ τῷ προσώπῳ περικειμένη, ὁ δὲ ὑπὸ τοῦ ὕπνου λελυμένος ἀναπνέῃ τὸ ἀμβρόσιον ἐκεῖνο ἆσθμα. τότε τοίνυν ἐγὼ ἀψοφητὶ κατιοῦσα ἐπʼ ἄκρων τῶν δακτύλων βεβηκυῖα, ὡς ἂν μὴ ἀνεγρόμενος ἐκταραχθείη — οἶσθα· τί οὖν ἄν σοι λέγοιμι τὰ μετὰ ταῦτα; πλὴν ἀπόλλυμαί γε ὑπὸ τοῦ ἔρωτος.
APHRODITE 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.
SELENE Ah, Aphrodite, ask that son of yours; it is he must answer for it all.
APHRODITE 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. But tell me, is Endymion handsome? That is always a comfort in our humiliation.
SELENE 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.
Ἀφροδίτη ὦ τέκνον Ἔρως, ὅρα οἷα ποιεῖς· οὐ τὰ ἐν τῇ γῇ λέγω, ὁπόσα τοὺς ἀνθρώπους ἀναπείθεις καθʼ αὑτῶν ἢ κατʼ ἀλλήλων ἐργάζεσθαι, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰ ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ, ὃς τὸν μὲν Δία πολύμορφον ἐπιδεικνύεις ἀλλάττων ἐς ὅ τι ἄν σοι ἐπὶ τοῦ καιροῦ δοκῇ, τὴν Σελήνην δὲ καθαιρεῖς ἐκ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ, τὸν Ἥλιον δὲ παρὰ τῇ Κλυμένῃ βραδύνειν ἐνίοτε ἀναγκάζεις ἐπιλελησμένον τῆς ἱππασίας· ἃ μὲν γὰρ ἐς ἐμὲ τὴν μητέρα ὑβρίζεις, θαρρῶν ποιεῖς. ἀλλὰ σύ, ὦ τολμηρότατε, καὶ τὴν Ῥέαν αὐτὴν γραῦν ἤδη καὶ μητέρα τοσούτων θεῶν οὖσαν ἀνέπεισας παιδεραστεῖν καὶ τὸ Φρύγιον μειράκιον ποθεῖν, καὶ νῦν ἐκείνη μέμηνεν ὑπὸ σοῦ καὶ ζευξαμένη τοὺς λέοντας, παραλαβοῦσα καὶ τοὺς Κορύβαντας ἅτε μανικοὺς καὶ αὐτοὺς ὄντας, ἄνω καὶ κάτω τὴν Ἴδην περιπολοῦσιν, ἡ μὲν ὀλολύζουσα ἐπὶ τῷ Ἄττῃ, οἱ Κορύβαντες δὲ ὁ μὲν αὐτῶν τέμνεται ξίφει τὸν πῆχυν, ὁ δὲ ἀνεὶς τὴν κόμην ἵεται μεμηνὼς διὰ τῶν ὀρῶν, ὁ δὲ αὐλεῖ τῷ κέρατι, ὁ δὲ ἐπιβομβεῖ τῷ τυμπάνῳ ἢ ἐπικτυπεῖ τῷ κυμβάλῳ, καὶ ὅλως θόρυβος καὶ μανία τὰ ἐν τῇ Ἴδῃ ἅπαντά ἐστι. δέδια τοίνυν ἅπαντα, δέδια ἡ τὸ τοιοῦτον σὲ κακὸν ἐγὼ τεκοῦσα μὴ ἀπομανεῖσά ποτε ἡ Ῥέα ἢ καὶ μᾶλλον ἔτι ἐν αὑτῇ οὖσα κελεύσῃ τοὺς Κορύβαντας συλλαβόντας σε διασπάσασθαι ἢ τοῖς λέουσι παραβαλεῖν· ταῦτα δέδια κινδυνεύοντά σε ὁρῶσα.
Ἔρως θάρρει, μῆτερ, ἐπεὶ καὶ τοῖς λέουσιν αὐτοῖς ἤδη ξυνήθης εἰμί, καὶ πολλάκις ἐπαναβὰς ἐπὶ τὰ νῶτα καὶ τῆς κόμης λαβόμενος ἡνιοχῶ αὐτούς, οἱ δὲ σαίνουσί με καὶ τὴν χεῖρα δεχόμενοι ἐς τὸ στόμα περιλιχμησάμενοι ἀποδιδόασί μοι. αὐτὴ μὲν γὰρ ἡ Ῥέα πότε ἂν ἐκείνη σχολὴν ἀγάγοι ἐπʼ ἐμὲ ὅλη οὖσα ἐν τῷ Ἄττῃ; καιτοι τί ἐγὼ ἀδικῶ δεικνὺς τὰ καλὰ οἷά ἐστιν; ὑμεῖς δὲ μὴ ἐφίεσθε τῶν καλῶν· μὴ τοίνυν ἐμὲ αἰτιᾶσθε τούτων. ἢ θέλεις σύ, ὦ μῆτερ, αὐτὴ μηκέτι ἐρᾶν μήτε σὲ τοῦ Ἄρεως μήτε ἐκεῖνον σοῦ;
Ἀφροδίτη ὡς δεινὸς εἶ καὶ κρατεῖς ἁπάντων· ἀλλα μεμνήσῃ μού ποτε τῶν λόγων.
APHRODITE 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 hers, 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!
EROS 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?
APHRODITE Masterful boy! always the last word! But you will remember this some day.
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