HERMES
What ails you, Zeus, in lone soliloquy
To pace about all pale and scholar-like?
Confide in me, take me to ease your toils:
Scorn not the nonsense of a serving-man.
ATHENA
Yea, thou sire of us all, son of Cronus, supreme among rulers,
Here at thy knees I beseech it, the grey-eyed Tritogeneia:
Speak thy thought, let it not lie hid in thy mind, let us know it.
What is the care that consumeth thy heart and thy soul with its gnawing?
Wherefore thy deep, deep groans, and the pallor that preys on thy features?
1
ZEUS
There’s nothing dreadful to express in speech,
No cruel hap, no stage catastrophe
That I do not surpass a dozen lines!
2
ATHENA
Apollo! what a prelude to your speech!
3
ZEUS
O utter vile hell-spawn of mother earth,
And thou, Prometheus—thou hast hurt me sore!
ATHENA
What isit? None will hear thee but thy kin.
ZEUS
Thundering stroke of my whizzing bolt, what a deed shalt thou do me!
HERA
Lull your anger to sleep, Zeus, seeing that I’m no hand either at comedy or at epic like these two, nor have I swallowed Euripides whole so as to be able to play up to you in your tragedy réle.
Juppiter Tragoedus. Lucian of Samosata. Austin Morris Harmon (Translator). United States. Perseus 5.0.
Funding provided by National Endowment for the Humanities.