V – To Aphrodite

Of golden Aphrodite, Muse, tell me –

That Cyprian goddess who stirs ecstasy

Among the gods, subduing men, as well,

And birds and animals, all those that dwell

On earth and in the sea. They all hold dear

The well-wreathed one’s exploits. There are a mere

Three hearts she cannot bend nor yet beguile:

Grey-eyed Athene’s one – she’ll never smile

At Aphrodite’s deeds. [Athena’s] care is war,

The work of Ares, conflict, blood and gore.

She was the first to teach mortals to build

Bronze chariots of battle, and she filled

Soft maids with knowledge of the arts. Also,

The laughter-loving love goddess had no

Ability to tame the dark huntress,

Gold-shafted Artemis, in amorousness,

For she loves slaying beasts and archery,

The lyre, thrilling cries, terpsichory,

Dark groves and just men’s cities. Now the chaste

[Hestia] is the third to have no taste

For Aphrodite’s works (first progeny

Of wily Cronus, and the last, was she

By aegis-bearing Zeus’s will) – a queen

Of whom Poseidon and [Apollo] had been

Wooers, whom she rejected stubbornly.

She swore a great oath, which would come to be

Fulfilled, by touching Father Zeus’s head.

She’d be a virgin evermore, she said.

For this she was given a great reward

And lodged inside the house of Zeus, the lord

Of all and got the greatest share, and she

Is praised in all the shrines, the primary

Goddess among all mortals. These are they

That she [Aphrodite] can’t influence in any way.

But Aphrodite cannot be ignored

By other gods or men. Even the lord,

Thunderer Zeus, she leads astray, though he

Is mightiest of all. Easily she

Seduces his wise heart and, at a whim,

With mortal womenfolk enforces him

To [copulate], although Hera does not know

Of this (she is his sister and, also,

His wife) and Hera’s the most beauteous

Of all the goddesses – most glorious

Child whom with Rhea sly Cronus created.

With the chaste, modest goddess^[1] Zeus then mated,

The ever-wise one^[2]. Zeus, though, this goddess^[3]

For a mortal man imbued with amorousness.

And she lay with him so that even she

Might soon know mortal love nor laughingly

Say gods to mortal women she had paired,

Creating mortal men, while men had shared,

Through her, goddesses’ beds. So she straightway

Then made Anchises love her who, that day,

In godlike shape, was tending herds around

Many-springed Ida’s steep hills. When she found

The man, she loved him passionately. She went

To Paphos where her altar, sweet with scent,

And precinct were. She entered there, and tight

She shut the doors, those doors that shone so bright.

The Graces bathed her with the oil that’s seen

Upon the deathless gods with heavenly sheen,

Fragrant and sweet. Her rich clothes they arrayed

Her in, then, swathed in gold, for Troy she made

With speed high in the air. And thus she came

To Ida (of the beasts she cannot tame

She is the mother). To the high retreat

She came, where, fawning, grey wolves came to meet

Her – grim-eyed lions and speedy leopards, too,

Hungry for deer and bears. All, two by two,

Mated among the shadowy haunts. But she

Came to the well-built leas. And there was he –

The hero Anchises, some way away

From others, in the homesteads. One could say

That he was godlike in his beauty. Though

The others urged their cattle all to go

With them to grassy pasturelands, yet he

Was playing on his lyre thrillingly

While strolling to and fro. And there she stood

Before him like a girl in maidenhood,

In height and [appearance], that she might quell his fright.

He saw her and he wondered at the sight –

Her height and [appearance], her shining clothes. For she

Had on a robe whose shining brilliancy

Capped fire, gorgeous, golden and enhanced

With many hues and, like a moon, it glanced

Over her delicate breasts, a wondrous sight,

And twisted brooches, earrings shining bright,

And lovely necklaces were set around

Her tender throat. Now Eros quickly found

Anchises, who said: “Lady queen, may bliss

Be on you whether you are Artemis

Or golden Aphrodite or, maybe,

Noble Themis or bright-eyed Athene

Or Leto? Does a Grace, p’raps, come to me?

(They’re called immortal, seen in company

With gods). Or else a Nymph, who’s seen around

The pleasant woods, or one, perhaps, who’s found

Upon this lovely mountain way up high

Or in streams’ springs or grassy meadows? I

Will build a shrine to you, seen far away

Upon a peak, and on it I will lay

In every season some rich offering.

Be gracious, granting that all men may sing

Of my prestige in Troy, my progeny

All strong forever after. As for me,

May I live long in wealth.” Then in reply

The child of Zeus^[4] addressed him and said: “I

Am no goddess, Anchises, most sublime

Of earth-born ones. Why do you think that I’m

Immortal? No, a mortal gave me birth.

My father’s Otreus, very well known on earth,

If you have heard of him. He holds command

In well-walled Phrygia. I understand

Your language well. At home have I been bred

By a Trojan nurse who, in my mother’s stead,

Nurtured me from a child, and that is why

I know your tongue as well. However, I

Was seized by Hermes, who took me away

From Artemis’s dance. A great array

Of marriageable maids were we as we

Frolicked together. A great company

Surrounded us. Thence Hermes snatched me, then

Guided me over many fields of men,

Much land that was not harrowed nor possessed,

Where beasts of prey roamed the dark vales. I guessed

I’d never touch the earth again. He said

I’d be the wedded partner of your bed

And birth great brood. Back to the gods he flew,

And here I am! I have great need of you.

So by your noble parents (for no-one

Of wretched stock could create such a son)

And Zeus, I beg, take me to wife, who know

Nothing of love, a maiden pure, and show

Me to your parents and your brothers, who

Shall like me well. Then send a herald to

The swift-horsed Phrygians that immediately

My sorrowing folks shall know of this. You’ll see

From them much gold and woven stuff and more.

Take these as [dowry], then make ready for

A lovely wedding that for gods and men

Shall be immortalized.” The goddess then

Put love into his heart. Then Anchises,

Thus stricken, said: ”If I can credit these

Words that you say, if you’re of mortals bred,

That Otreus fathered you – that’s what you said –

And Hermes brought you here that you might be

My wife forever, no-one shall stop me –

No god nor man – from having intercourse

With you right now, not even if perforce

[Apollo] shot arrows from his silver bow

At me. I’d go into the land below

The earth most gladly once I’d broached your bed,

O godlike lady.” That is what he said.

He took her hand. She threw her glance aside,

Her lovely eyes cast down, and slowly hied

To the well-spread bed, which was already made

With delicate coverings. On it were laid

Bearskins and skins of roaring lions he

Had killed in that mountainous territory.

In bed, each twisted brooch and each earring

And necklace he removed – each shining thing –

And [removed] her girdle and bright clothes and laid

Her on a golden-studded seat, then made

Love to her, man and goddess – destiny

And the gods’ will condoned it – although he

Did not know what he did. But at the hour

When oxen and tough sheep back from the flower-

Filled pasture were led home, the goddess blessed

Anchises with sweet sleep but then she dressed

Herself in her rich garments. With her head

Reaching the well-hewn roof-tree, by the bed

She stood, and from her cheeks there radiated

Unearthly beauty one associated

With well-wreathed Cytherea. And then she

Roused him and said: “Why sleep so heavily?

Get up, Anchises! Tell me, is my guise

The same to you as when you first laid eyes

Upon me?” He awoke immediately.

Seeing her neck and lovely eyes, was he

Afraid; he turned his eyes, his cloak concealing

His comely face. His winged words appealing,

He said: “When first I looked on you, I knew

You were a goddess – you did not speak true.

By aegis-bearing Zeus, I beg, let me

Not live my life among humanity,

A palsied thing. Have pity. For a man

Who lies with goddesses no longer can

Be sound.” She answered him: “O leading light

Of mortals, courage! You’ve no need of fright.

Nor I nor any god will cause you fear –

The gods love you. A son who shall be dear

To you shall over Troy hold sovereignty,

As shall his offspring in posterity.

His name shall be Aeneas, for the pain

Of grief I felt inside because I’d lain

With a mortal. Yet the people of your race

Are the most godlike, being fair of face

And tall. Zeus seized golden-haired Ganymede

Thanks to his beauty, that he might indeed

Pour wine for all the gods and always be

Among them all – remarkable to see.

Honoured by all, he from the golden bowl

Drew the red nectar. Grief, though, filled the soul

Of Tros, not knowing if a heaven-sent blow

Had snatched away his darling son, and so

He mourned day after day unceasingly.

In pity, Zeus gave him indemnity-

High-stepping horses such as carry men.

Hermes, the Argos-slaying leader, then,

At Zeus’s bidding, told him all – his son

Would live forever agelessly, atone

With all the gods. So, when he heard of this

No longer did he mourn but, filled with bliss,

On his storm-footed horses joyfully

He rode away. Tithonus similarly

Was seized by golden-throned Eos – he, too,

Was of your race and godlike, just like you.

She begged dark-clouded Zeus to give consent

That he’d be deathless, too. Zeus granted this.

But thoughtless queenly Eos was amiss,

Not craving youth so that senility

Would never burden him and so, though he

Lived happily with Eos far away

On Ocean’s streams, at the first signs of grey

Upon his lovely head and noble chin,

She spurned his bed but cherished him within

Her house and gave him lovely clothes to wear,

Food and ambrosia. But when everywhere

Old age oppressed him and his every limb

He could not move, her best resolve for him

Was this – to place him in a room and close

The shining doors. An endless babbling rose

Out of his mouth; he had no strength at all

As once he had. I’d not have this befall

Yourself. But if you looked as now you do

Forevermore and everyone called you

My husband, I’d not grieve. But pitiless

Old age will soon enshroud you – such distress

Will burden every mortal – wearying

And deadly, even by the gods a thing

Of fear. You’ve caused great endless infamy

For me among the gods who formerly

Feared all my jibes and wiles with which I mated

The gods with mortal maids and subjugated

Them all. However, no more shall my word

Have force among the gods, since I’ve incurred

Much madness on myself, dire, full of dread.

My mind has gone astray! I’ve shared a bed

With a mortal! Underneath my girdle lies

A child! As soon as he has cast his eyes

Upon the sun, the mountain Nymphs whose breasts

Are deep, who dwell on those great sacred crests,

Shall rear him. They’re not of mortality

Nor immortality; extendedly

They live, eat heavenly food and lightly tread

The dance among the deathless ones and bed

With Hermes and Sileni, hid away

In pleasant caves, and on the very day

That they are born, up from the fruitful earth

Pines and high oaks also display their birth,

Trees so luxuriant, so very fair,

Called the gods’ sancta, high up in the air.

No mortal chops them down. When the Fates mark

Them out for death, they wither there, their bark

Shrivelling too, their twigs fall down. As one,

Both Nymph and tree leave the light of the sun.

They’ll rear my son. And at his puberty

The goddesses will show you him. Let me

Tell you what I propose – when he is near

His fifth year on this earth, I’ll bring him here

That you may gaze upon him and enjoy

The sight, for he will be a godlike boy.

Bring him to windy [Troy]. If you

Are queried by some mortal as to who

Gave birth to him, then say, as I propose,

It was a flower-like Nymph, one Nymph of those

Who dwell upon that forest-covered crag.

Should you tell all, though, and foolishly brag

That you have lain with rich-crowned Aphrodite,

Then with a smoky bolt will Zeus Almighty

Strike you. That’s all. Take heed. Do not name me.

Respect the anger of the gods.” Then she

Soared up to windy heaven. Queen, farewell.

Your tale is told. I have one more to tell.