Hera did not disobey. She anointed the body of Lyaios with the divine drops of her painhealing teat, and wiped away the stains of the wild divine frenzy. When she saw the manhood and radiance of Dionysos and touched mad Bacchos with grudging hands, she felt a double jealousy although her face hid it. She opened her dress on both sides for his lips, and bared her teats full of ambrosia, pressing the jealous breast to let the milk flow, and brought him back to life. With her great eyes she measured all the youthful strength of longhaired Lyaios, wondering if ever mortal mother brought forth such a shape, if shakespear Ares was so tall as this, if Hermes, if Phaéthon was such, or sweetvoiced Apollo; and she wished him in heaven as Hebe’s bridegroom, had not Zeus our Lord on High ordained that in days to come twelvelabour Heracles was fated to be her husband.
She then, after healing the madness of Bacchos, returned again to the company of the stars on high, that she might not see the weaponless army of Dionysos fighting with fennel and bundles of vine, and killing warriors with a little manbreaking thyrsus.
Now the son of Zeus did not neglect the battle. He appeared once more and armed his soldiers ; he waved the fleshcutting ivy in giantslaying hand, and summoned the host again with cries :
“Courage, to battle once more! Zeus again stands in our front for the fight ; he is gracious to Bacchos his son, and the company of the immortals has come from heaven to defend Dionysos. Hera is no longer our enemy. Who will fight with the lightning of Cronides ? When will cowardly enemies stand if the thunderbolt is ready? I will show myself equal to my Father. Cronion my father conquered Earth’s brood, the Titans, in battle: I also will conquer the earthborn nation of Indians !
“This day after the victory of the vinebearers behold obstinate Deriades a supplicant, and the Indian host bending the neck before peaceful Dionysos, and the river rolling the staggering liquor of Euios! You shall see our adversaries beside the mixing-bowl of Dionysos quaffing ruddy water out of the winerunning-river ; and the bold Indian king, fettered with ivy and vineclusters, rolling among leaves and clusters of grapes, wearing fetters like those which the divine Nysiad nymphs, now that the nesses of my prowess, when my strong and potent fruitage throttled with a noose of ivy the man who fought against the gods and frightened Arabia, when Lycurgos was constrained by bonds of vine.
“At last after so many periods of rolling conflict, seize the booty of your enemies, and those shining stones the glory of the sea! Drag off the women by the hair and take them to Rheia my mother! Take your vengeance for our fallen warriors, whose fate afflicts me with sharp pangs. In my heart is both anger and sorrow, that I see Deriades alive and Opheltes unburied, reproaching after death the idle hand of Lyaios. Codone arms herself no longer, poor Alcimacheia fights no more brandishing her spear ; nay, even Aibialos has fallen, and still I hold back my thyrsus. I am ashamed after the battle to think of Arestor, lest he should hear that Opheltes at the instant of death found none to help him. I cannot traverse the Corybantian city of Crete, lest Agelaos the father should lament for his dead son, if he hears that Antheus perished unavenged. I am ashamed to show myself to Minos, for Asterios lies in his hut suffering and wounded, whom more than any I will succour, since he has in him the blood of Europa ; surely I will bring home my own kinsman safe and sound from the war, and give him back to his father, that Cadmos may never hear that Asterios looked in vain for runaway Dionysos. Come, to the battle again! In one I will defend all, when I have killed the one who destroyed so many.”
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