Hera

She, alone of the guests, seemed to look disdainfully at the glittering chamber and, while the rest feasted and made merry, she leaned back in her ivory chair, stroking the sheeny neck of a peacock that stood stiffly beside her with gorgeous tail outspread.

Tantalus knew that those two must be Zeus and Hera, the king and queen of the gods, and pride mingled with awe in his heart to see the greatest of the immortals seated as guests under his roof.

Zeus, that dread lord of the sky, whose mighty arm could hurl thunderbolts in his wrath, had laid aside the fullness of his glory, which was too bright for mortal eyes to bear, and appeared in mild and gracious majesty.

He smiled gravely and kindly on his host, and Tantalus took courage to watch the rest of that heavenly company.

But since I know well that you are the most generous of hosts, I wonder that you should let one thing be wanting of your banquet." "What is that, O King of gods and men?" asked Tantalus humbly, yet he was secretly angry that even Zeus should find fault with him.

"I am a mere mortal," he added, "but the best a mortal can give I surely have set before you." "Nay, my friend," Zeus answered, "the one thing you have not offered us is your best, your costly fare, your gold and gems and ivory.

Are these your greatest treasures? Think again if you have not something still more precious." Then turning to Hera, who was still smiling very scornfully, he said, "Our generous host, my queen, is not the man to deny his guests the choicest of his possessions.

He has but forgotten for a moment what it is." Just then, a curtain of Tyrian crimson that hung behind the throne was drawn quickly aside, and a little child ran laughing into the hall.

And upon this view, the same things, Euthyphro, will be pious and also impious? so i should suppose then my friend i remark with surprise that you have not answered the question which i asked for i certainly did not ask you to tell me what action is both pious and impious but now it would seem that what is loved by the gods is also hated by them.

And therefore, Euthyphro, in thus chastising your father, you may very likely be doing what is agreeable to Zeus, but disagreeable to Kronos or Uranus, and what is acceptable to Hephaestus, but unacceptable to Hera.

And there may be other gods who have similar differences of opinion.

But I believe, Socrates,

caverns pool by pool of blue salt sea where feet most beautiful of nereid maidens weave beneath the foam their long sea dances i their lord am come poseidon of the sea was i whose power with great apollo builded tower by tower these walls of troy and still my care doth stand true to the ancient people of my hand which now as smoke is perished in the shock of argive spears down from parnassus rock the greek epios came of phocion seed and wrought by pallas mysteries a steed marvellous big with arms and through my wall it passed a death-fraught image magical the groves are empty and the sanctuaries run red with blood unburied priam lies by his own hearth on god's high altar stair and phrygian gold goes forth and raiment rare to the argive ships and weary soldiers roam waiting the wind that blows at last for home for wives and children left long years away beyond the sea its tenth fulness and decay to work this land's undoing.

And for me, since Argive Hera conquereth, and she who wrought with Hera to the Phrygians' woe, Pallas, behold, I bow mine head, and go forth from great Ilion, and mine altars old.

when a still city lieth in the hold of desolation all god's spirit there is sick and turns from worship hearken where the ancient river waileth with a voice of many women portioned by the choice of war amid new lords as the lots leap for thessaly or argos or the steep of theseus rock and others yet there are high women chosen from the waste of war for the great kings behind these portals hid and with them that laconian tinderid helen like them a prisoner and a prize and this unhappy one would any eyes gaze now on hecuba here at the gates she lies mid many tears for many fates of wrong one child beside achilles grave in secret slain polyxena the brave lies bleeding priam and his sons are gone and lo cassandra she the chosen one whom lord apollo spared to walk her way a swift and virgin spirit on this day lust hath her and she goeth garlanded a bride of wrath to agamemnon's

bed he turns to go and another divine presence becomes visible in the dusk it is the goddess polus athena o

ah husband still how shall thy hand be bent to slay me nay if right be come at last what shalt thou bring but comfort for pains past and harbor for a woman storm-driven a woman borne away by violent men and this one birthright of my beauty this that might have been my glory lo it is a stamp that god hath burned of slavery alas and if thou cravest still to be as one set above gods inviolate tis but a fruitless longing holds thee yet

o queen think of thy children and thy land and break her spell the sweet soft speech the hand and heart so fell it maketh me afraid

meseems her goddesses first cry mine aid against these lying lips not hera nay nor virgin pallas deem i such low clay to barter their own folk argos and brave athens to be trod down the phrygian slave all for vain glory and a shepherd's prize on ida Wherefore should great Hera's eyes so hunger to be fair? She doth not use to seek for other loves, being wed with Zeus.

And maiden Pallas, did some strange God's face beguile her, that she craved for loveliness, who chose from God one virgin gift above all gifts, and fleeth from the lips of love? ah deck not out thine own heart's evil springs by making spirits of heaven as brutish things and cruel the wise may hear thee and guess all and cypris must take ship fantastical sail with my son and enter at the gate to seek thee had she willed it she had sat at peace in heaven and wafted thee and all amicli with thee under ilion's wall my son was passing beautiful beyond his peers and thine own heart that saw and conned his face became a spirit enchanting thee for all wild things that in mortality have being ha aphrodite and the name she bears in heaven is born and writ of them thou sawest him in gold and orient vest shining and low of fire about thy breast left thou hadst fed upon such little things pacing thy ways in argos but now wings were come once free from Sparta, and there rolled the Ilean glory, like broad streams of gold, to steep thine arms and splash the towers.

There's then a contest to see who, in fact, is the fairest.

Paris of Troy was to be the judge, and the three goddesses involved, Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, say, look, if you name me, I'm going to give you such and such a reward.

Paris chose Aphrodite, and Aphrodite gave to Paris Helen of Sparta.

As you know, there was quite a bit of mischief which ensued from that.

But all these lie.

The Father of men and gods gave you birth remote from men and secretly from the white-armed Hera.

There is a certain Nysa, a mountain most high and richly grown with woods, far off in Phoniki, near the streams of Egyptus.

And men will lay up for her many offerings in her shrines, and as these things are three, so shall mortals ever sacrifice perfect hecatombs to you at your feasts, each three years.

Now when Leto had sworn and ended her oath, Delos was very glad at the birth of the far-shooting lord.

But Leto was racked nine days and nine nights with pangs beyond want.

and there were with her all the chiefest of the goddesses dione and rhea and acnea and themis and loud moaning amphitrite and the other deathless goddesses save white-armed hera who sat in the halls of cloud-gathering zeus only ilithya goddess of sore travail had not heard of leto's trouble for she sat on the top of Olympus beneath golden clouds by white-armed Hera's contriving, who kept her close through envy, because Leto, with the lovely tresses, was soon to bear a son faultless and strong.

But the goddess has sent out Iris from the well-set isle to bring Aletheia, promising her a great necklace strung with golden threads, nine cubits long, and they bade Iris call her aside from white-armed Hera, lest she might afterwards turn her from coming with her words.

But all these lie.

The Father of men and gods gave you birth remote from men and secretly from the white-armed Hera.

There is a certain Nysa, a mountain most high and richly grown with woods, far off in Phoniki, near the streams of Egyptus.

And men will lay up for her many offerings in her shrines.

Now when Leto had sworn and ended her oath, Delos was very glad at the birth of the far-shooting lord.

But Leto was racked nine days and nine nights with pangs beyond want.

and there were with her all the chiefest of the goddesses dione and rhea and acnea and themis and loud moaning amphitrite and the other deathless goddesses save white-armed hera who sat in the halls of cloud-gathering zeus only ilithya goddess of sore travail had not heard of leto's trouble for she sat on the top of Olympus beneath golden clouds by white-armed Hera's contriving, who kept her close through envy, because Leto, with the lovely tresses, was soon to bear a son faultless and strong.

But the goddesses sent out Iris from the well-set isle to bring Aletheia, promising her a great necklace strung with golden threads, nine cubits long, and they bade Iris call her aside from white-armed Hera, lest she might afterwards turn her from coming with her words.

But all these lie.

The Father of men and gods gave you birth remote from men and secretly from the white-armed Hera.

There is a certain Nysa, a mountain most high and richly grown with woods, far off in Phoniki, near the streams of Egyptus.

And men will lay up for her many offerings in her shrines.

But Leto was racked nine days and nine nights with pangs beyond want.

and there were with her all the chiefest of the goddesses dione and rhea and acnea and themis and loud moaning amphitrite and the other deathless goddesses save white-armed hera who sat in the halls of cloud gathering zeus Only Elythia, goddess of sore travail, had not heard of Leto's trouble, for she sat on the top of Olympus beneath golden clouds by white-armed Harris contriving, who kept her close through envy, because Leto, with the lovely tresses, was soon to bear a son faultless and strong.

But the goddess has sent out Iris from the well-set isle to bring Elythia, promising her a great necklace strung with golden threads, nine cubits long, and they bade Iris call her aside from white-armed Hera, lest she might afterwards turn her from coming with her words.

When swift Iris, fleet of foot as the wind, had heard all this, she set to run, and quickly finishing all the distance, she came to the home of the gods, sheer Olympus, and forthwith called Illithia out from the hall to the door, and spoke winged words to her, telling her all as the goddesses who dwell on Olympus had bidden her.

from aegean caverns pool by pool of blue salt sea where feet most beautiful of nereid maidens weave beneath the foam their long sea dances i their lord am come poseidon of the sea was i whose power with great apollo builded tower by tower these walls of troy and still my care doth stand true to the ancient people of my hand which now as smoke is perished in the shock of argive spears down from parnassus rock the greek epios came of phocion seed and wrought by pallas mysteries a steed marvellous big with arms and through my wall it passed a death fraught image magical the groves are empty and the sanctuaries run red with blood unburied priam lies by his own hearth on god's high altar stair and phrygian gold goes forth and raiment rare to the argive ships and weary soldiers roam waiting the wind that blows at last for home for wives and children left long years away beyond the seat's tenth fulness and decay to work this land's undoing.

And for me, since Argive Hera conquereth, and she who wrought with Hera to the Phrygian's woe, Pallas, behold, I bow mine head, and go forth from great Ilion, and mine altars old.

when a still city lieth in the hold of desolation all god's spirit there is sick and turns from worship hearken where the ancient river waileth with a voice of many women portioned by the choice of war amid new lords as the lots leap for thessaly or argos or the steep of theseus rock and others yet there are high women chosen from the waste of war for the great kings behind these portals hid and with them that laconian tinderid helen like them a prisoner and a prize and this unhappy one would any eyes gaze now on hecuba here at the gates she lies mid many tears for many fates of wrong one child beside achilles grave in secret slain polyxena the brave lies bleeding priam and his sons are gone and lo cassandra she the chosen one whom lord apollo spared to walk her way a swift and virgin spirit on this day lust hath her and she goeth garlanded a bride of wrath to agamemnon's bed

he turns to go and another divine presence becomes visible in the dusk it is the goddess polus athena

o queen think of thy children and thy land and break her spell the sweet soft speech the hand and heart so fell it maketh me afraid

Meseems her goddesses first cry mine aid against these lying lips.

Not Hera, nay, nor virgin Pallas, deem I such low clay to barter their own folk.

Argos and brave Athens to be trod down the Phrygian slave, all for vain glory, and a shepherd's prize on Ida.