No matter: I will lead you, for I myself spent some time on Ida when Zeus was in love with his Phrygian lad, and I often came here when he sent me down to watch the boy. Indeed, when he was in the eagle, I flew beside him and helped him to lift the pretty fellow, and if my memory serves me, it — was from this rock just here that Zeus caught him up. You see, he chanced to be piping to his flock then, and Zeus, flying down behind him, grasped him very delicately in his talons, held in his beak the pointed cap which was on the boy’s head, and bore him on high, terrified and staring at him with his head turned backwards. So then I took the syrinx, for he had let it fall in his fright—but here is your umpire close by, so let us speak to him.

Good day, herdsman.

Good day to you also, young man. But who are you, to have come here to see me, and who are these women whom you have with you? They are not of a sort to roam the mountains, being so beautiful. They are not women; it is Hera and Athena and Aphrodite whom you see, Paris, and I am Hermes, sent by Zeus—but why do you tremble and turn pale? Don't be afraid; it is nothing terrible. He bids you be judge of thelr beauty, saying that as you are handsome yourself and also well schooled in all that concerns love, he turns over the decision to you. You will find out the prize for the contest if you read the writing on the apple.

Come, let me see what it says; “The fairest may have me.”—How could I, Lord Hermes, a mere mortal and a countryman, be judge of an extraordinary spectacle, too sublime for a herdsman? To decide such matters better befits dainty, city-bred folk. As for me, I could perhaps pass judgement as an expert between two she-goats, as to which is the more beautiful, or between two heifers;

but these goddesses are all equally beautiful and I do not know ~ how a man could withdraw his eyes from one and transfer them to another. They are not inclined to come away readily, but wherever one directs them first, they take firm hold and commend what is before them; and if they pass over to something else, they see that this too is beautiful and linger upon it, mastered by what is near. In short, their beauty encompasses and completely enthralls me, and I am distressed that I cannot see with my whole body as Argus did. I think I should pass a becoming judgement if I should give the apple to them all.— Another thing: one of them is Zeus’ sister and wife, and the other two are his daughters! How, then, could the decision help being hazardous from that point of view also?

I do not know; but it is impossible to escape carrying out what Zeus has commanded.

Do me this one favour, Hermes: persuade them not to be angry with me, the two that are defeated, but to think that only my sight is at fault.

They say they will do so, and now it is high time for you to get your judging done.

I shall try; what else can one do? But first I want to know whether it will satisfy the requirements to look them over just as they are, or must I have them undress for a thorough examination?

That is your affair, as you are the judge. Give your orders as you will.

As I will? I want to see them naked.

Undress, goddesses. Make your inspection, Paris. I have turned my back.

Very well, Paris. I shall undress first, so that you may discover that I am not just “white-armed” and vain of “ox-eyes,” but that I am equally and uniformly beautiful all over.

Aphrodite, vexed at Hera for twitting her about Anchises, makes fun of her by implying that she has no other beauties than those habitually commended in her by Homer.

Do not let her undress, Paris, until she puts aside her girdle, for she is an enchantress; otherwise she may bewitch you with it.

See Iliad 14, 214 ff.

And indeed she ought not to appear before you made up to that extent and bedaubed with all those colours, as if she were a courtesan in earnest: she ought to show her beauty unadorned.

They are right about the girdle, so lay it aside.

Then why do not you take off your helmet, Athena, and show your head bare, instead of tossing your plumes at the judge and frightening him? Are you afraid that you may be criticized for the green glare of your eyes if it is seen without trappings that inspire terror?

The word with which Homer describes the eyes of Athena had an uncomplimentary sense in Lucian’s time. “Don’t let it trouble you that her eyes are very green (πανύ γλαυκούς), or that they squint and look at each other!” says a girl to her lover about a rival (Dial. Mer. 2,1). And Hephaestus finds Athena very beautiful, but must except her eyes: “To be sure, she has green eyes, but the helmet makes even that a mark of beauty” (Dial. Deor, 13 (vulg. 8)). So caesius in Latin; cf. Lucretius 4, 1161.

There is the helmet for.you: I have taken it off.

There is the girdle for you. Come, let us undress.