But Hera flew through the air on stormswift sole, and wove another plan, to visit Zeus carrying the cestus, that mindcharming girdle of desire. She sought for the Paphian; and found Assyrian Aphrodite seated in a solitary spot upon Libanos, alone, for the Graces, those dancers of Orchomenos, had been sent away to gather the various flowers of spring in the gardens—one to gather Cilician crocus, one eager to bring balsam and sprouts of the Indian reed, another for the fragrant petals of the rose.
Wondering and startled, Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus leapt up from her seat, when she saw the consort of Zeus in sorrow; and the wily creature cried out—
“Hera, queen of Zeus! why are your cheeks pale! Why are your eyes downcast, my queen? Can it be that Rainy Zeus has once more become a shower of deceit ? Has he become a bull again, a drenched wayfarer in the waters? What second Europa is disturbing you? Is there another Antiope in the hairy embrace of a sham Satyr, although Nycteus her father forbids? Is there a new horse with a mind in him hasting to another bridal, while he lets out a false whinny between mimicking lips ? Has he wooed another Semele with birthdelivering brand, and cast his lightning to show the way for love? Does he dance to the bed of some pretty-horned heifer while he utters a loving moo? Well, if you like, you can find up another cowkeeper to spy upon Zeus, a herdsman Argos, tattooed with unsleeping eyes! Answer my questions, and I will help all I can.”’
The goddess greeted her kindly with deceitful words :
“Cypris goddess, we must leave the ground of Olympos for mortals. Zeus has brought to Olympos Semele the mother of Bacchos, and he will bring Dionysos himself to heaven. What mansion will receive Hera? To what place shall I go? I am ashamed lest I behold Semele, the usurping queen of Olympos. I fear he may take me and drive me out of Olympos like Cronos, and I may have to see the dark house of Iapetos. I fear he may shame the nectar, and bring from earth what they call the vine, to plant it in heaven even among the Blessed.
“O Justice, O Earth, O Water, let this never be! May he never bring its twigs to heaven! that I should speak of the Viny Sky instead of the Starry Sky, in honour of the grape! that I should ever quaff another drink after the sweet nectar of Olympos! I fear to see warlike Athena drunken, shaking her spear against Ares and Cythereia—the stars wineshotten and maddened against each other, arousing reckless battle in heaven with the staggering drops of mindshaking Dionysos—all that dwell in Olympos infuriated, and mimicking the revels of carryshield Corybants !
“Is it not shame enough, an impious thing, that I see the Trojan boy cup-lackey to Zeus, disgracing heaven and Hebe cupbearer of Zeus, when he ladles sweet nectar with human hands? Yes, I will go in my shame to earth; heaven will leave to those two, Ganymedes and Dionysos—heaven I will leave, the home of Semele! Let heaven be common home for those two, Perseus and Dionysos. I will retire to my Argos, to the glorious city of Mycene, and I will settle on earth. With his unhappy mother will go Ares himself, your bridegroom. Come yourself too, and set foot in your Sparta, and let Sparta receive corseleted Aphrodite in her anger along with brazen Ares.
“I know where I get these troubles from. My father’s Avenger demands bloodprice from me for violence done to a father, because Hera the Titan’s daughter took strong part in the war against Cronos her father and helped Zeus in his fight. A fine thing for me to see Dionysos sitting in the midst of Olympos beside Eros, at the same table as the Foamborn, bearing the aegis once borne by Cronides and Athena. Help me, goddess, I pray! Lend me to aid my need your cestus band, your all charming belt, just for one day—that I may charm the eyes of Zeus, and while Zeus slumbers I may help my Indians. I am twice your goodmother, for you have been bride of my Hephaistos and Ares both. Grant this boon at last ; for the blackskin Indians have always hospitably entertained Erythraian Aphrodite, and these Indians Dionysos has assailed in his fury, on these Indians Zeus has wreaked his anger—Zeus the womanmad, the heartless, Zeus the bearer of children, he has battled for Dionysos and cast his lightnings upon them! Lend me your cestus band to help, with which alone you charm all in one! I am worthy to wear it, patroness of wedlock and fellow-helper of the Loves.”’
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