HERA

Since you’ve brought this lad ¹ up here, Zeus, this Phrygian you carried off from Ida, you’ve been neglecting me.

ZEUS

What, Hera? Jealous already? Of him too, though he’s so simple and harmless? I thought you were only down on my various lady friends.

HERA

It’s bad enough and quite out of place for you, the master of all gods, to desert me, your lawful wife, and go down to earth, turning into gold or satyr or bull, to commit adultery. ² But your women do stay on the earth, but as for this boy from Ida, you grabbed hold of him and flew him up here, my fine king of the birds, and you’ve brought him into our family over my head, “as wine-waiter”, you say. Were you so badly in need of wine-waiters? Have Hebe and Hephaestus, then, gone on strike? And you can’t take the cup from him, without kissing him first before all our eyes, and you find his kiss sweeter than the nectar, and so you keep on and on asking for a drink, even when you’re not thirsty. Sometimes, too, you just take a sip, and give him the cup, and when he has drunk, you take it back and drain it, from the side he’s drunk from and touched with his lips, so that you can be drinking and kissing at the same time. And the other day, you, the king and father of all, laid aside your aegis and thunderbolt, and sat down playing dice with him, you with that great beard on your face! I see it all. Don’t think you’re hoodwinking me.

ZEUS

And what’s so terrible, my dear, in kissing a pretty boy like that while I’m drinking, and enjoying both the kiss and the nectar? Why, if I let him kiss you just once, you’ll never again blame me for preferring his kiss to the nectar.

HERA

Admirers of boys may talk like that, but I hope I’ll never be so mad as to give my lips to that Phrygian softie. Oh, the effeminate creature!

ZEUS

Please don’t abuse my little darling, noble Hera. This effeminate foreigner, this softie, is more delightful and desirable to me than—I won’t say it, for fear that I make you still angrier.

HERA

Well, you can go ahead and marry him, for all I care. But I hope you remember how you’re showering tipsy abuse on me because of this wine-boy.

ZEUS

What nonsense! I suppose we ought to have our wine from your son, Hephaestus, hobbling about, straight from the forge, still filthy from the sparks, having just put down his tongs. I suppose I should take the cup from those dirty fingers of his, and between each mouthful of wine give him a kiss? Why, even you, his own mother, wouldn’t want to kiss his face, all black with soot. That would be nicer, wouldn’t it? Hephaestus was a much more suitable wine-waiter for the table of the gods, I suppose, and Ganymede should be packed off home to Ida? He’s too clean, and has rosy fingers, he’s not clumsy when he offers the drink, and what annoys you most of all, his kiss is sweeter than the nectar.

HERA

Oh, so now you complain that Hephaestus is lame, and his fingers aren’t good enough for your cup, and he is all sooty, and that the sight of him turns your stomach? You’ve been like that ever since Ida produced this long-haired darling. In the old days, you didn’t notice these things. The sparks and the forge didn’t stop you from taking your wine from him.

ZEUS

You’re only making yourself miserable, my dear, and me fonder of him, by being jealous. If you don’t like taking your drink from a lovely boy, you can have your own son serve you, and I’ll have you, Ganymede, all to myself, waiting on me, and giving me two kisses with each cup, one when you hold it out to me full, and a second when I give you it back. Hullo, not crying, are you? Don’t be afraid. Anyone that chooses to hurt you will regret it.

Hephaestus

What are your orders, Zeus? You sent for me, and here I am; with such an edge to my axe as would cleave a stone at one blow.

Zeus

Ah; that’s right, Hephaestus. Just split my head in half, will you?

Hephaestus

You think I am mad, perhaps?—Seriously, now, what can I do for you?

Zeus

What I say: crack my skull. Any insubordination, now, and you shall taste my resentment; it will not be the first time. Come, a good lusty stroke, and quick about it. I am in the pangs of travail; my brain is in a whirl.

Hephaestus

Mind you, the consequences may be serious: the axe is sharp, and will prove but a rough midwife,

Zeus

Hew away, and fear nothing. I know what I am about.

Hephaestus

H’m. I don’t like it: however, one must obey orders. ... Why, what have we here? A maiden in full armour! This is no joke, Zeus. You might well be waspish, with this great girl growing up beneath your pia mater; in armour, too! You have been carrying a regular barracks on your shoulders all this time. Go active too! See, she is dancing a war-dance, with shield and spear in full swing. She is like one inspired; and (what is more to the point) she is extremely pretty, and has come to marriageable years in these few minutes; those grey eyes, even, look well beneath a helmet. Zeus, I claim her as the fee for my midwifery.

Zeus

Impossible! She is determined to remain a maid for ever. Not that I have any objection, personally.

Hephaestus

That is all I want. You can leave the rest tome. I'll carry her off this moment.

Zeus

Well, if you think it so easy. But I am sure it is a hopeless case.