Nonnus of Panopolis, Dionysiaca 29.291–381: Book 29: At the ford; Rheia's dream sends Ares away

But as soon as they came to the ford, where Hydaspes rolling along had reddened his white water with drunken streams, then Bacchos shouted from his deep-roaring throat as loud as the horrid clamour which comes from the throat of a swarm of nine thousand men roaring together as one.“The Indians could not stand; restless they fled away, and crouched some in the yellow stream, some on the land. The army of Bacchos divided, slaying the enemy both on land and in the Hydaspes, panting with dry thirst, at the time when day has reached the middle of the earth, and a heated wayfarer trembles under the midday lash of blazing Helios.

Then the vinegod challenged the Indian king, and poured a menacing speech from his furious throat :

“What is there to fear? If the Indian chieftain claims descent from a river, I have my blood from heaven! Overweening Deriades is as much less than Lyaios, as Hydaspes is less than Zeus! If it be my pleasure, I can rise to the clouds; if it be ‘my pleasure, my shot will go straight to the Moon! If you are proud because you have a hornstrong shape, fight if you can a duel with horned Dionysos.”

As he spoke, the warriors roared and gnashed their teeth : man vied with man in fighting by the side of Dionysos. A friendly Pan fought with his goatsfeet : with a sharp stroke of his pointed hoof he tore all down the hollow flank of archer Melaneus and laid open his belly ; this was his revenge for the wound of Hymenaios, to relieve the firesealed agony of Dionysos mourning with tearless eyes.

Madly Iobacchos rushed into the fray; he lengthened his tall body until he reached the clouds and grasped Olympos with his hands, near neighbour to the sky, standing firm on earth and touching heaven with his head.

So they fought, until the evening star came on them and razed the foundations of the Indian massacre. Then at Rheia’s nod a deceitful vision stood by Ares, painting fantastic pictures in his sleep, and spoke thus in shadowy counterfeit shape :

“Sleep on Ares, sleep on hapless lover, now you lie alone in your coat of mail! But the Paphian —Hephaistos lies again in his bed and possesses Aphrodite, once yours! He has chased out of the house Charis his jealous bride ; Eros himself has shot reluctant Aphrodite with an arrow, and brought back the ancient wife to a second marriage to please Hephaistos his father. Indeed, Athena herself, who knows nothing of love, has persuaded great Zeus— the cunning virgin ! She wants to evade Hephaistos, for she remembers the makeshift marriage on the nourishing soil, and would not nurse another son of the earth on her manlike breast, a younger brother of Erechtheus now the first is dead.

“Awake! Go to the upland plain of the Thracian mountain, and see your Cythereia in her own familiar Lemnos. See how her swarm of attendant Loves have crowned with flowers the portals of Paphos and the buildings of Cyprus ; hear the women of Byblos celebrate Aphrodite in their hymns, and the fresh love of a wedlock renewed again.

“Ares, you have lost your Cypris! The slow one has outrun murderous Ares the quick! Sing a hymn yourself to Aphrodite united with fiery Hephaistos ! Set foot in Sicily, put your prayer, if you please, to the Cyclopes standing by their forge. They are in the secrets of Hephaistos the master craftsman, they can rival his clever work ; they will invent an artifice for you and make a later imitation of your net, that you too may smother them both in galling meshes, and fasten the thief of your marriage in avenging toils, and bind limpfoot Hephaistos to Aphrodite. Then all the gods of Olympos will applaud you, when you have caught the ravisher of your bed in those bonds. Awake! be the cunning schemer in your turn! Awake— attend to your stolen bride! What are the woes of Deriades to you ?—But let us be silent, or Phaéthon may hear.”’

She spoke, and flew away. At once lusty Ares threw off slumber and saw the early streaks of the morning’s light. In hot haste he leapt up, and awoke Rout and Terror to yoke his deadly quickrunning car. They obeyed their urgent father. Furious Terror set the crooktooth bit in the horses’ mouths, and fastened their obedient necks under the yokestrap, and fitted the neckloop on each: Ares mounted the car, and Rout took the reins and drove his father’s chariot. From Libanos to Paphos he sped, and turned the hurrying car from Cythera to the land of horned Cyprus. Often, often he looked towards Lemnos ; most of all he jealously watched the firebreathing forge, tracking Cypris with swift jealous foot, if perchance he could see her standing as long ago beside Hephaistos’s furnace, and feared the smoke might hide Aphrodite’s face with black. Then he left Lemnos and rose into the heaven, that spear in hand he might arouse battle for his bride among the Blessed, confronting Zeus and Phaéthon and Hephaistos and Athena.