1-67^[1] Hera prolongs the War

At this point in the Trojan War, the mortals, tired of fighting, have struck a truce. But Hera, insulted by the Trojan Prince Paris, wants Troy’s total destruction.

The gods, meanwhile, were gathered with Zeus on the golden council-floor, drinking toasts of nectar from gleaming cups that lovely Hebe filled while they gazed down on Troy.

Cronos’ son was swift to taunt Hera with mocking words, and said slyly: “Menelaus has two goddesses to aid him, Hera of Argos and Alalcomenean Athene. But while they sit here only looking on, laughter-loving Aphrodite stands by him and shields him from fate. Now she saves him when he thought to die. Yet surely Menelaus, beloved of Ares, won the duel, so let us decide what to do; whether to stir harsh war and wake the noise of battle, or seal a pact of friendship between these foes. If that were good and pleasing to all, king Priam’s city might stand and Menelaus take back Argive Helen.”

Athene and Hera murmured at his words, where they sat together plotting disaster for Troy. Athene, it’s true, bit her tongue, and despite the fierce fury gripping her, and anger at Father Zeus, stayed silent, but Hera could not contain herself: “What’s this you say, dread son of Cronos? Will you render my efforts null and void, all the toil and sweat I’ve suffered, wearing out my horses, gathering an army to defeat Priam and his sons? Do as you will, but be clear the rest of us disagree.”

Zeus, the Cloud-Gatherer was troubled: “My Queen, how have Priam and his sons harmed you that you work so fervently to sack the high citadel of [Troy]? Will nothing sate your anger but to shatter the gates and the great walls, and consume King Priam, his sons, and nation? Well then, do as you wish, so it ceases to be a source of strife between us. But I tell you this, and keep it well in mind, whenever I choose in my zeal to sack some city dear to you, keep clear of my wrath, and let me have my way, as I agree now to yield to you, though my heart wills otherwise. For of all the cities beneath the sun and stars, that mortal men have made to dwell in, sacred Troy is dearest to me, as are Priam and his people of the strong ashen spear. Never at their feasts did my altar lack its share of wine and burnt flesh, those offerings that are the gods’ privilege.”

And Hera, the ox-eyed heavenly queen replied: “There are three cities dearest to me; Argos, Sparta and broad-paved Mycenae; if they rouse your hatred, ruin them. I’ll not shield them, nor hold a grudge. And if I did, you are the stronger: I would achieve nothing by trying. Yet my efforts must not be mocked, for I too am divine and born of the same stock as you, since Cronos, crooked in counsel, begot me, the most honoured of all his daughters, twice so being the eldest and your wife, you who are king of all the gods. Yet let us bow to each other in this, I to you, and you to me, and all the other deathless gods will follow. Command Athene to visit the Greek and Trojan battle lines, and make sure the Trojans are first to break the truce by attacking the triumphant Greeks.”

135-223 Hera borrows Aphrodite’s belt

Poseidon, the great Earth-Shaker, was aware of all this, and disguised as an old man went after them. He took hold of Agamemnon’s right hand, and spoke to him winged words: “Son of Atreus, no doubt Achilles’ cruel heart rejoices to see the Achaeans put to flight and slaughtered, lacking sense as he does. Let him perish then: may the gods destroy him. But the gods, who are blessed, are not utterly against you, and I foresee even now that the Trojan princes and their generals will soon fill the wide plain to Troy with dust, and you will see them run for the city from your ships and huts.”

With this, Poseidon sped over the plain, and gave a great cry, as loud as ten thousand warriors when they clash in battle. Such was the force of that call from the great Earth-Shaker’s throat, and he stirred the hearts of the Achaeans, and filled with them strength to fight on to the end.

Now, Hera of the Golden Throne saw Poseidon, who was both her brother and brother-in-law, from the heights of Olympus, as he rushed about the field where men win glory, and she rejoiced. But she saw Zeus too, seated on the topmost peak of Ida of the many streams, whose actions angered her. Then the ox-eyed Queen thought how she might distract aegis-bearing Zeus from the war, and this idea seemed best: to go to Ida, beautifully arrayed, to see if he could be tempted to clasp her in his arms and lie with her, then she might clothe his eyes and cunning mind in warm and gentle sleep. She therefore went to the room fashioned for her by her dear son Hephaestus, with its strong doors fitted to the doorposts, and its hidden bolt no other god could open. She entered and closed the gleaming doors behind her. Then she cleansed every mark from her lovely body with rich and gentle ambrosial oil, deeply fragrant. If its scent was released in Zeus’ palace, whose threshold was of bronze, it would spread through heaven and earth. With this she anointed her shapely form, then combed her hair, and with her own two hands plaited the lovely glistening ambrosial tresses that flowed from her immortal head. Then she clothed herself in an ambrosial robe that Athene had worked smooth, and skilfully embroidered, fastening it over her breasts with golden clasps, and at her waist with a hundred-tasselled belt. She fixed an earring, a gracefully gleaming triple-dropped cluster, in each pierced lobe then covered her head in a beautiful shining veil, glistening bright as the sun, and bound fine sandals on her shining feet. When her body was all adorned, she left her room, calling Aphrodite to her from her place with the other gods, saying: “Will you favour a request, dear child, or will you refuse, resenting the help I give the Greeks, since you aid the Trojans?”

“Hera, honoured goddess, daughter of mighty Cronos,” replied Aphrodite, Zeus’ daughter, “tell me your wish: my heart prompts me to grant it, if it is in my power.”

Then Queen Hera spoke deceptively: “Grant me Love and Desire, with which you subdue mortals and gods alike. I am off to the ends of fruitful earth, to visit Oceanus, source of all the gods, and Mother Tethys. They nursed and cherished me lovingly in their halls, after taking me from Rhea, when far-echoing Zeus imprisoned Cronos beneath the earth and restless sea. I will visit them and bring their ceaseless quarrel to an end. They have been estranged for a long time now, from love and the marriage bed, ever since their hearts were embittered. If I could persuade a change of heart, and bring them to sleep together once more, I would be dear to them and win their true esteem.”

Laughter-loving Aphrodite replied: ‘It would be wrong for me to refuse you, since you sleep in almighty Zeus’ embrace.’ And she loosed from her breast that inlaid belt of hers, in which all manner of seductions lurk, Love, Desire, and dalliance, persuasiveness that robs even the wise of sense. Placing it in Hera’s hands, she said: “Take this inlaid belt, of curious fashioning, and keep it at your breast. Whatever your heart desires, you will return successful.’

Ox-eyed Queen Hera smiled at her words, and smiling took the belt to her breast.

224-291 Hera visits Sleep and asks his help

Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, returned to her house, but Hera darted from the summit of Olympus…skimming the snowy hills of the Thracian horsemen, not touching the slopes with her feet. From Athos she stepped to the billowing waves, and so crossed to Lemnos…There she sought out Sleep, the brother of Death, took him by the hand and asked his help: “Sleep, master of gods and men, if ever you answered a request of mine, do what I ask you now, and I will always owe you thanks. As soon as I lie down in Zeus’s arms, close his gleaming eyes in slumber, and I will give you a fine throne of everlasting gold, that my son, the lame god Hephaestus, will fashion with all his skill, and a stool as well where you can rest your shining feet, when you sip your wine.”

Sweet Sleep answered: “Great goddess, Hera, daughter of mighty Cronos, it would be nothing to lull to sleep some other of the immortals, even the streams of Ocean, from whom you all descend, but I dare not approach Zeus and do so, unless he tells me to. I learnt that once before, on a task of yours, that day when proud Heracles, his glorious son, sailed from Ilium after sacking Troy. I shed sweetness all around to distract aegis-bearing Zeus, while you planned mischief for his son, rousing the harsh winds to a gale, and driving him far from his comrades, to many-peopled Cos. When Zeus woke he was angry. He treated you immortals roughly, and sought for me above all, and if Night, who subdues gods and men, hadn’t saved me, he’d have hurled me from heaven into the depths, never to be seen again. I ran to her, and though Zeus was wrathful he restrained himself, hesitating to offend swift Night. And now you make the same unacceptable demand.”

Ox-eyed Queen Hera answered: “Sleep, why worry about it so? Do you really think far-echoing Zeus will show the same anger for these Trojans, as he did for the sake of Heracles, his son? Come, I will give you one of the young Graces in marriage.”

Sleep, delighted by her words, said: “Well then, swear to me now by the inviolable waters of Styx, with one hand on the fertile earth, one on the shimmering sea, so that all the gods with Cronos down below may bear witness, that you will grant me one of the young Graces, Pasithea, whom I’ve longed for all my days.”

The goddess, white-armed Hera, agreed and swore the oath as he asked, naming all the gods beneath Tartarus, called Titans. When she had duly sworn, they left Lemnos…behind, and clothed in mist, sped swiftly on their way. They soon reached Ida of the many streams, mother of wild creatures…Sleep halted then, before Zeus could see him, and settled on the tallest fir-tree on Ida, one that pierced the mists and reached the sky. There he sat, hidden by its branches, in the form of a clear-voiced mountain bird, called chalcis by the gods, cymindis by men.

292-351: Hera and Zeus make love

Meanwhile Hera soon reached…the summit of lofty Ida. Zeus, the Cloud-Driver, saw her, and instantly his sharp mind was overwhelmed by longing, as in the days when they first found love, sleeping together without their dear parents’ knowledge. Standing there he called to her: “Hera, what brings you speeding from Olympus? And where are your chariot and horses?”

Queen Hera replied, artfully: “I am off to the ends of fruitful earth, to visit Oceanus, source of all the gods, and Mother Tethys. They nursed and cherished me lovingly in their halls. I will visit them and bring their ceaseless quarrel to an end. They have been estranged for a long time now, from love and the marriage bed, ever since their hearts were embittered. My horses wait at the foot of Ida of many streams, and they will take me over dry land and sea. But I am here from Olympus to see you, lest you harbour anger towards me later if I go to deep-flowing Oceanus’ house without first telling you.”

Zeus the Cloud-Driver answered: “Hera, you shall go: later. But for now let us taste the joys of love; for never has such desire for goddess or mortal woman so gripped and overwhelmed my heart, not even when I was seized by love for Ixion’s wife, who gave birth to Peirithous the gods’ rival in wisdom; or for Acrisius’ daughter, slim-ankled Danaë, who bore Perseus, greatest of warriors; or for the far-famed daughter of Phoenix, who gave me Minos and godlike Rhadamanthus; or for Semele mother of Dionysus, who brings men joy; or for Alcmene at Thebes, whose son was lion-hearted Heracles; or for Demeter of the lovely tresses; or for glorious Leto; or even for you yourself, as this love and sweet desire for you grips me now.”

Queen Hera replied, artfully once more: “Dread son of Cronus, what words are these? You indeed may be eager to make love on the heights of Ida in broad daylight, but what if an immortal saw us together, and told the others? I’d be ashamed to rise again, and go home. But if you really wish for love, if your heart is set on it, you have that room your dear son Hephaestus built you, with solid tightly-fitting doors. Let us go and lie there, since love-making is your wish.”

“Hera, have no fear: no god or man will see us through the golden cloud in which I’ll hide us. Not even Helios could spy us then, though his is the keenest sight of all.”

With that the son of Cronus took his wife in his arms and beneath them the bright earth sent up fresh grass-shoots, dewy lotus, crocus and soft clustered hyacinth, to cushion them from the ground. There they lay, veiled by the cloud, lovely and golden, from which fell glistening drops of dew.

352-401: Poseidon urges on the Greeks

So Father Zeus, conquered by love and sleep, lay peacefully…with his wife in his arms, while sweet Sleep sped off to the Argive ships to give the news to Poseidon, Earth-Shaker and Enfolder. Reaching him, he spoke with winged words: “Zeus is sleeping now, Poseidon. Hera tempted him to sleep with her, and I have drowned him in sweet slumber, so go and help the Argives quickly, grant them glory, before he wakes.”

So saying he sped away to mortal men, while Poseidon redoubled his efforts, rushing to the front with a great cry: “Greeks, shall we yield to Hector, son of Priam, let him take the fleet and win glory? He boasts that he will, now that Achilles sits by the hollow ships, with anger in his heart. Yet if we rouse ourselves and support each other, we can win without Achilles. Come now, and do what I suggest. Let us cover our heads with our gleaming helms, sling on the best and largest shields we have, grasp the longest spears, and then advance. I will lead, and I doubt that noble Hector will stand against us long, for all his eagerness. Now, any of you with a small shield who knows how to fight, give it to a weaker man, and take a large one.”…

426-507: The death of Sarpedon

So saying, [Sarpedon] leapt fully armed from his chariot, and Patroclus seeing him do so did likewise. With loud cries, they attacked each other, like raucous vultures, fighting with curved beak and crooked talon on some high crag.

Zeus, gazing down on them, felt pity, and spoke to Hera his sister-wife: “Alas that Sarpedon, so dear to me, is fated to die at the hands of Patroclus! Even now I am undecided, whether to snatch him up and set him down alive in his rich land of Lycia, far from this sad war, or allow him to fall to this son of Menoetius.”

“Dread son of Cronos,” ox-eyed Queen Hera replied, “what do you mean? Are you willing to save a mortal from the pains of death, one long since doomed by fate? Do so, but don’t expect the rest of us to approve. And think hard about this fact too. If you send Sarpedon home alive, why should some other god not do the same for their dear son, and save him from the thick of war? Many who fight before Priam’s great city are children of immortals, and those divinities will resent it deeply. If he’s so dear to you, and it grieves your heart, let Patroclus defeat him in mortal combat, but after his spirit has departed, send Death and sweet Sleep to bear him away to the broad land of Lycia, where his brothers and all his kin may mark his resting place with barrow and pillar, a privilege of the dead.”

The Father of men and gods accepted her advice, but he sent a shower of blood-red raindrops to the earth, to honour his beloved son whom Patroclus would slay in the fertile land of Troy, far from his native realm.