Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns, and Homerica
As for my own self, let me live long and happily, seeing the light of
the sun, and come to the threshold of old age, a man prosperous among
the people.’
(ll. 106-142) Thereupon Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus answered him:
‘Anchises, most glorious of all men born on earth, know that I am no
goddess: why do you liken me to the deathless ones? Nay, I am but a
mortal, and a woman was the mother that bare me. Otreus of famous name
is my father, if so be you have heard of him, and he reigns over all
Phrygia rich in fortresses. But I know your speech well beside my own,
for a Trojan nurse brought me up at home: she took me from my dear
mother and reared me thenceforth when I was a little child. So comes
it, then, that I well know your tongue also. And now the Slayer of
Argus with the golden wand has caught me up from the dance of huntress
Artemis, her with the golden arrows. For there were many of us, nymphs
and marriageable 2526 maidens, playing together; and an innumerable
company encircled us: from these the Slayer of Argus with the golden
wand rapt me away. He carried me over many fields of mortal men and
over much land untilled and unpossessed, where savage wild-beasts roam
through shady coombes, until I thought never again to touch the
life-giving earth with my feet. And he said that I should be called the
wedded wife of Anchises, and should bear you goodly children. But when
he had told and advised me, he, the strong Slayer of Argos, went back
to the families of the deathless gods, while I am now come to you: for
unbending necessity is upon me. But I beseech you by Zeus and by your
noble parents—for no base folk could get such a son as you—take me now,
stainless and unproved in love, and show me to your father and careful
mother and to your brothers sprung from the same stock. I shall be no
ill-liking daughter for them, but a likely. Moreover, send a messenger
quickly to the swift-horsed Phrygians, to tell my father and my
sorrowing mother; and they will send you gold in plenty and woven
stuffs, many splendid gifts; take these as bride-piece. So do, and then
prepare the sweet marriage that is honourable in the eyes of men and
deathless gods.’
(ll. 143-144) When she had so spoken, the goddess put sweet desire in
his heart. And Anchises was seized with love, so that he opened his
mouth and said:
(ll. 145-154) ‘If you are a mortal and a woman was the mother who bare
you, and Otreus of famous name is your father as you say, and if you
are come here by the will of Hermes the immortal Guide, and are to be
called my wife always, then neither god nor mortal man shall here
restrain me till I have lain with you in love right now; no, not even
if far-shooting Apollo himself should launch grievous shafts from his
silver bow. Willingly would I go down into the house of Hades, O lady,
beautiful as the goddesses, once I had gone up to your bed.’
(ll. 155-167) So speaking, he caught her by the hand. And
laughter-loving Aphrodite, with face turned away and lovely eyes
downcast, crept to the well-spread couch which was already laid with
soft coverings for the hero; and upon it lay skins of bears and
deep-roaring lions which he himself had slain in the high mountains.
And when they had gone up upon the well-fitted bed, first Anchises took
off her bright jewelry of pins and twisted brooches and earrings and
necklaces, and loosed her girdle and stripped off her bright garments
and laid them down upon a silver-studded seat. Then by the will of the
gods and destiny he lay with her, a mortal man with an immortal
goddess, not clearly knowing what he did.
(ll. 168-176) But at the time when the herdsmen drive their oxen and
hardy sheep back to the fold from the flowery pastures, even then
Aphrodite poured soft sleep upon Anchises, but herself put on her rich
raiment. And when the bright goddess had fully clothed herself, she
stood by the couch, and her head reached to the well-hewn roof-tree;
from her cheeks shone unearthly beauty such as belongs to rich-crowned
Cytherea. Then she aroused him from sleep and opened her mouth and
said:
(ll. 177-179) ‘Up, son of Dardanus!—why sleep you so heavily?—and
consider whether I look as I did when first you saw me with your eyes.’
(ll. 180-184) So she spake. And he awoke in a moment and obeyed her.
But when he saw the neck and lovely eyes of Aphrodite, he was afraid
and turned his eyes aside another way, hiding his comely face with his
cloak. Then he uttered winged words and entreated her:
(ll. 185-190) ‘So soon as ever I saw you with my eyes, goddess, I knew
that you were divine; but you did not tell me truly. Yet by Zeus who
holds the aegis I beseech you, leave me not to lead a palsied life
among men, but have pity on me; for he who lies with a deathless
goddess is no hale man afterwards.’
(ll. 191-201) Then Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus answered him:
‘Anchises, most glorious of mortal men, take courage and be not too
fearful in your heart. You need fear no harm from me nor from the other
blessed ones, for you are dear to the gods: and you shall have a dear
son who shall reign among the Trojans, and children’s children after
him, springing up continually. His name shall be Aeneas 2527, because I
felt awful grief in that I laid me in the bed of mortal man: yet are
those of your race always the most like to gods of all mortal men in
beauty and in stature 2528.
(ll. 202-217) ‘Verily wise Zeus carried off golden-haired Ganymedes
because of his beauty, to be amongst the Deathless Ones and pour drink
for the gods in the house of Zeus—a wonder to see—honoured by all the
immortals as he draws the red nectar from the golden bowl. But grief
that could not be soothed filled the heart of Tros; for he knew not
whither the heaven-sent whirlwind had caught up his dear son, so that
he mourned him always, unceasingly, until Zeus pitied him and gave him
high-stepping horses such as carry the immortals as recompense for his
son. These he gave him as a gift. And at the command of Zeus, the
Guide, the slayer of Argus, told him all, and how his son would be
deathless and unageing, even as the gods. So when Tros heard these
tidings from Zeus, he no longer kept mourning but rejoiced in his heart
and rode joyfully with his storm-footed horses.
(ll. 218-238) ‘So also golden-throned Eos rapt away Tithonus who was of
your race and like the deathless gods. And she went to ask the
dark-clouded Son of Cronos that he should be deathless and live
eternally; and Zeus bowed his head to her prayer and fulfilled her
desire. Too simply was queenly Eos: she thought not in her heart to ask
youth for him and to strip him of the slough of deadly age. So while he
enjoyed the sweet flower of life he lived rapturously with
golden-throned Eos, the early-born, by the streams of Ocean, at the
ends of the earth; but when the first grey hairs began to ripple from
his comely head and noble chin, queenly Eos kept away from his bed,
though she cherished him in her house and nourished him with food and
ambrosia and gave him rich clothing. But when loathsome old age pressed
full upon him, and he could not move nor lift his limbs, this seemed to
her in her heart the best counsel: she laid him in a room and put to
the shining doors. There he babbles endlessly, and no more has strength
at all, such as once he had in his supple limbs.
(ll. 239-246) ‘I would not have you be deathless among the deathless
gods and live continually after such sort. Yet if you could live on
such as now you are in look and in form, and be called my husband,
sorrow would not then enfold my careful heart. But, as it is, harsh
2529 old age will soon enshroud you—ruthless age which stands someday
at the side of every man, deadly, wearying, dreaded even by the gods.
(ll. 247-290) ‘And now because of you I shall have great shame among
the deathless gods henceforth, continually. For until now they feared
my jibes and the wiles by which, or soon or late, I mated all the
immortals with mortal women, making them all subject to my will. But
now my mouth shall no more have this power among the gods; for very
great has been my madness, my miserable and dreadful madness, and I
went astray out of my mind who have gotten a child beneath my girdle,
mating with a mortal man. As for the child, as soon as he sees the
light of the sun, the deep-breasted mountain Nymphs who inhabit this
great and holy mountain shall bring him up. They rank neither with
mortals nor with immortals: long indeed do they live, eating heavenly
food and treading the lovely dance among the immortals, and with them
the Sileni and the sharp-eyed Slayer of Argus mate in the depths of
pleasant caves; but at their birth pines or high-topped oaks spring up
with them upon the fruitful earth, beautiful, flourishing trees,
towering high upon the lofty mountains (and men call them holy places
of the immortals, and never mortal lops them with the axe); but when
the fate of death is near at hand, first those lovely trees wither
where they stand, and the bark shrivels away about them, and the twigs
fall down, and at last the life of the Nymph and of the tree leave the
light of the sun together. These Nymphs shall keep my son with them and
rear him, and as soon as he is come to lovely boyhood, the goddesses
will bring him here to you and show you your child. But, that I may
tell you all that I have in mind, I will come here again towards the
fifth year and bring you my son. So soon as ever you have seen him—a
scion to delight the eyes—you will rejoice in beholding him; for he
shall be most godlike: then bring him at once to windy Ilion. And if
any mortal man ask you who got your dear son beneath her girdle,
remember to tell him as I bid you: say he is the offspring of one of
the flower-like Nymphs who inhabit this forest-clad hill. But if you
tell all and foolishly boast that you lay with rich-crowned Aphrodite,
Zeus will smite you in his anger with a smoking thunderbolt. Now I have
told you all. Take heed: refrain and name me not, but have regard to
the anger of the gods.’
(l. 291) When the goddess had so spoken, she soared up to windy heaven.
(ll. 292-293) Hail, goddess, queen of well-builded Cyprus! With you
have I begun; now I will turn me to another hymn.
VI. TO APHRODITE
(ll. 1-18) I will sing of stately Aphrodite, gold-crowned and
beautiful, whose dominion is the walled cities of all sea-set Cyprus.
There the moist breath of the western wind wafted her over the waves of
the loud-moaning sea in soft foam, and there the gold-filleted Hours
welcomed her joyously. They clothed her with heavenly garments: on her
head they put a fine, well-wrought crown of gold, and in her pierced
ears they hung ornaments of orichalc and precious gold, and adorned her
with golden necklaces over her soft neck and snow-white breasts, jewels
which the gold-filleted Hours wear themselves whenever they go to their
father’s house to join the lovely dances of the gods. And when they had
fully decked her, they brought her to the gods, who welcomed her when
they saw her, giving her their hands. Each one of them prayed that he
might lead her home to be his wedded wife, so greatly were they amazed
at the beauty of violet-crowned Cytherea.
(ll. 19-21) Hail, sweetly-winning, coy-eyed goddess! Grant that I may
gain the victory in this contest, and order you my song. And now I will
remember you and another song also.
VII. TO DIONYSUS
(ll. 1-16) I will tell of Dionysus, the son of glorious Semele, how he
appeared on a jutting headland by the shore of the fruitless sea,
seeming like a stripling in the first flush of manhood: his rich, dark
hair was waving about him, and on his strong shoulders he wore a purple
robe. Presently there came swiftly over the sparkling sea Tyrsenian