Aiacos also left his native land, whom the sham bird begot, mingling with the daughter of Asopos whom he carried off, the eagle, high-soaring Zeus the feathered husband of Aigina, He was named Aiacos from this marriage ; and most of all he was eager to help his brother Dionysos. He mustered his companies of Myrmidons with competent skill. These once were ants crawling over the earth with their many busy feet, until Zeus in the Highest changed them from their insignificant clay-born shape to a better body, and up grew an armed host : for in a moment a speechless swarm of ants bred in the clay changed their shape and nature into mortals with […]. These were the host that Aiacos led as captain, and he graved on his wellwrought shield, as a token of their origin, Zeus the sham bird with a mind, carrying a woman in gentle talons. Near it was a river god on fire, and a girl beside him sad and downcast, even if she was a lifeless image ; she turned her eye aside as if mourning for her father stiff-knee Asopos, and she seemed to be crying : “A fine bride-gift you have brought me, in destroying my father !” Crete with its peoples of many tongues was commanded by Asterios, one of brilliant beauty, one as lovely as he was strong, both together ; his mother was Phaistian Androgeneia, who loosed the girdle of maiden modesty for Minos, and bore her son in a Cydonian bed. He came bringing the people of the hundred cities for wineface Bacchos to honour the blood of his own father’s family ; for Minos was cousin of Semele and of Cadmos’s kin. All the far-scattered warriors gathered to one stirring leader ; men of war from Cnossos, others from Lyctos joined with troops from Miletos. With them was a large body of armed burghers from hilly Gortyn, and others from Rhytion and fertile Lycastos, and the country of Nodaian Zeus and the habitations of Boibe and the lands of Cisamos and the fair cities of Cytaios. Such was the captain from Crete and as he came the star of Ares shone upon his starry namesake Asterios, first harbinger of victory to come, pouring forth a prophetic radiance with hotter beams. After victory in battle he conceived a bastard passion for the strange country, being hard of heart. For after the Indian War he was not to see his native land and the cave of the Idaian mount shimmering with helmets ; he preferred a life of exile, and instead of Dicte he became a Cnossian settler in Scythia. He left grey-headed Minos and Androgeneia ; the civilized man […] the barbaric tribes of guest-murdering Colchis, called them Asterians and gave a Cretan name to Colchians whose nature provided them with outlandish customs. He left his own country and the Cretan river of Amnisos which nourished his childhood, and with shamefast lips drank the foreign water of Phasis.
Aristaios came slow by himself, last of all those who dwelt in the regions round about the Hellenic land. He lifted high his neck, proud of the sweet honey from his riddled hives. He had challenged Dionysos with his wine, and vainly hoped for the victory of his sweet honey. All the denizens of Olympos judged between them. Phoibos’s son offered the new-flowing juice from his hives to the immortals; but he failed to win the victory, because when the gods took the thick juice from the plantloving bee, they soon had enough and tired of the liquid. A third […] was more than enough for the Blessed when the cup came round with the fourth brew they would not taste it, thirsty though they were. But when Bacchos ladled out his glorious dewy drops, they were delighted, and drank his flowing wine all day long unceasing. Even drunken they admired the sweet wine, and called for cup after cup one after another with jolly glee, full of hearty good cheer for the bewitching stuff. Zeus admired Aristaios’s gift, the product of the honeydropping bee and the curious artwork of the hive-loving brood, but he gave the first prize for trouble-soothing victory to Dionysos and his wine. That is why Aristaios came slow to the Indian War. After so long he had only just quieted the old grudge of his greedy youth, and left Hermeias’s cave in Cyllene ; for he had not yet migrated to the island formerly called Meropis : he had not yet brought there the life-breathing wind of Zeus the Defender, and checked the fiery vapour of the parched season ; he had not stood steelclad to receive the glare of Seirios, and all night long repelled and calmed the star’s fiery heat—and even now the winds cool him with light puffs, as he lances his hot parching fire through the air from glowing throat. But he still dwelt in the land of Parrhasia. He was followed by the vagabond acorn-fed Arcadians under arms, those that held Lasion, and the fine glades of Lyaios, and rocky Stymphalos, and Rhipe famous town ; Stratia and Mantines and Enispe, and woodland Parrhasia, where is still to be found the place untrodden in which primeval goddess Rheia was brought to bed; the region of Phencos, and Orchomenos rich in sheep, only begetter of the dance, seat of the Apidancans. There were there also those of Arcadia, city of Arcas son of Callisto and Zeus, whose father fixed him in the starry firmament and called him Bootes Hailbringer. Such was the host which Aristaios had armed with the Arcadian lance, and led sheepdog to battle with warring men. He was the son of Cyrene, that deer-chasing second Artemis, the girl Lion-killer, who bore him to the love of Phoibos when handsome Apollo carried her abroad to sandy Libya in a car for a bridal equipage. And as he came in haste, Apollo his father […] the prophetic laurel and armed him with his own hands, gave his son a bow, and fitted his arm with a curiously wrought shield, and fastened the hollow quiver by a strap over the shoulder to hang down his back.
Cite This Text