 Dialogue 1 of the Dialogues of the Seagulls by Lucien, translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Doris ridicules the figure and manners of Polyphemus, the lover of Galatea. Doris read by phone. Galatea, read by Anita Slumba Martinez. A handsome lover, my dear Galatea, that's a Lucian shepherd they say is so madly in love with you. Don't sneer, Doris, for he is Poseidon's son, whatever he may be like. What then, if he were even the son of Zeus himself, and showed so savage and uncouth a figure, and most unsightly all of his uglinesses possess only one eye, do you imagine his birth would at all avail him in comparison with his shape? Not even his uncouthness and his savageness, as you call it, is without its charm, for it gives him a madlier, and his eye becomes his forehead and sees not less than if there were two. You seem, Galatea, to consider your Polyphemus not as the courting, but as the courted one, such are your praises of him. Courter? No, but I cannot endure that excessive proclivity of yours to finding fault, and you others seem to me to do it from envy, because when some time ago he was tending his flocks and had a glimpse of us from his cliff, as we were sporting upon the shore at the foot of Etna where it extends between the mountain and the sea, he did not even look at you others. Whereas I appear to him as the most beautiful of all of us, and so he kept his eye upon me alone, it is this that vexes you, for it is a proof that I am superior, and deserving to be loved, while you other nymphs have been neglected. If you appear beautiful to the eyes of a keeper of sheep and to a fellow who wants an eye, do you suppose you are an object of envy? And besides, what else had he to commanding you than your white skin? And that, I suppose, because he is accustomed to cheese and milk. Everything therefore resembling those things he considers beautiful. For as to other charms, whenever you wish to discover what you are really like, stoop from some rock when the sea is calm over the water and behold yourself to be nothing else than an exceedingly white skin, and that is not commended unless, too, there is colour to set it off. Yet I, so purely white as I am, nevertheless have a lover, though it is only he, whereas there is not one of you whom either shepherd or sailor or boatman praises, and my polyphemus, among other merits, is also musical. Hold your tongue, Galatea. We heard his singing, when but now he came serenading to you. So may Aphrodite be my friend, one would have imagined an ass was braying, and his very lyre, what a thing it was, the bare skull of a stag, and the horns served as handles, and he bridged them, and fitted in the strings, without even twisting them round a peg, and now began to perform some horribly unmusical and unmelodious melody, himself roaring out one thing, and his lyre accompanying him to something else, so that we could not even restrain or laughter at that fine love-ditty. Why Echo would not even return any reply to his bellowing, loquacious as she is, but was ashamed to appear to imitate his uncouth, ridiculous music, and then the amiable creature was carrying in his arms for a plaything, a bear's cub resembling himself in shagginess. Who, pray, would not envy you, my Galatea, such a lover? Do you then, my dear Doris, show us your own adorer, who is doubtless handsomer and more of a musician and better skilled in performing on the Sathara? Nay, I have no adorer, nor do I pride myself on being admired, but as for your Cyclops, such as he is, the rank odor of a he-goat, a cannibal, as they say, and who feeds upon strangers who come to his country, may he be yours and welcome, and may you fully return his affection. End of dialogue one. Dialogue two of the Dialogues of the Seagods by Lucian, translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Polyphemus complains to Poseidon, his father, of his treatment at the hands of Odysseus. Cyclops and Poseidon. Cyclops. Red. Vynima. Poseidon. Red by Larry Wilson. Oh, Father, what have I endured at the hands of the cursed stranger, who made me drunk and put out my eye, assaulted me when I was lulled to sleep? Who dared to do this, my poor Polyphemus? In the first instance he called himself Autus. But when he had got clear away and was out of reach of my arrow, he said that his name was Odysseus. I know whom you speak of. Him of Ithaca, and he was on his return voyage from Ilium. But how did he do it? For he is, by no means, a man of too much courage. Returning from my accustomed tending of my flocks, I caught a number of fellows in my cave, evidently having designs on my herds. For when I placed the stone block against the door, the rock is of huge size, and had lighted the fire by igniting the tree which I brought from the mountain, evidently they appeared to be trying to conceal themselves. Well, when I had got hold of some of them, I devoured them for a pack of theses, as was reasonable, hereupon that most villainous rascal, whether he was Autus or Odysseus, pours out a sort of drug and gives me to drink, sweet indeed, and of delicious smell. But most insidious, in which cause great disorder in my head. For immediately upon my drinking, everything seemed to me to be in a whirl, and the cave itself was turned upside down, and I was no longer at all in my senses. And at last I was dragged down into sleep, then sharpening the bar, and igniting it besides, he blinded me as I slept, and from that time I am a blind man, at your service, Poseidon. How soundly you slept, my son, that you did not jump up while you were being blinded. But as for this Odysseus, how then did he escape? For he could not, I am well assured that he could not, move away the rock from the door. Yes, but it was I who removed it, that I might the better catch him as he was going out, and sitting down close to the door I grope for him with extended hands, letting only my sheep pass out to pasture, after having given instructions to the ram what he was to do in my place. I understand, they slipped away under them unnoticed, but you ought to have shouted and called the rest of the cyclopies to your aid against him. I did summon them, father, and they came. But when they asked the sneaking Rascal's name, and I said it was Autus, thinking I was in a mad fit, they took themselves off at once. Thus the cursed fellow tricked me with his name. What especially vexes me is that actually throwing my misfortune in my teeth. Not even, says he, will your father Poseidon cure you. Never mind, my child, for I will revenge myself upon him, that he may learn that even if it is not possible for me to heal the mutilation of people's eyes, that all events the fate of voyagers is in my hands, and he is still at sea. End of Dialogue Two Dialogue Three of the Dialogues of the Seagods by Lucian Translated by Howard Williams This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Poseidon questions Alpheus, a river god, respecting his amor with the nymph Arathusa. Poseidon and Alpheus. Poseidon read by Lurie Wilson. Alpheus read by Swenckmeister Patrick. What's this, Alpheus? Of all your rivers, you are the only one that falls into the sea without mingling with the salt water, as is the custom of other streams, nor do you rest from pouring yourself along. But in your passage through the sea, contracting and keeping sweet your waters, still unmixed and pure, your hasten I know not where, diving into the depths like the seagulls and herons. And yet you seem to be ready to pop up somewhere or other and again discover yourself. Something of a love affair, Poseidon, don't you scold. Even you yourself often have been in love. Is it a woman or a nymph, or indeed one of the naryads, themselves, you are in love with? No, but with a fountain, Poseidon. And she? Where in the world does she flow? She is a Sicilian islander. They call her Arathusa. I am aware, Alpheus, she is no ugly creature, this Arathusa. On the contrary, she is beautifully clear and transparent, and gushes out in a pure stream, and the water gives beauty to the pebbles, showing all silver above them. How accurately well you know the fountain, Poseidon! I am now off to her side. Well away then, and good luck to you in your ruin. But tell me this, where did you have a sight of your Arathusa, seeing that you yourself are Arcadian, and she is at Syracuse? You are detaining me in haste as I am with your superfluous questions. You are right. Away to your beloved, and emerging from the sea, mingle harmoniously with your fountain, and become one water. End of Dialogue 3 of the Dialogues of the Seagots by Lucian, translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Menolaus expresses to Proteus his incredulity in regards to the alleged miraculous transformations of that divinity, Menolaus and Proteus. Menolaus, read by Zonkmeister Patrick. Proteus, read by Adam Bielka. Well, that you become water Proteus is not incredible, seeing you belong to the sea, and that you become a tree too may pass, nay, when you get changed into a lion. Yet, even that is not beyond my powers of belief. But whether it is possible for you to become fire while living in the sea, that I very much wonder at and doubt. But wonder, my dear sir, for I do become such. I indeed sought with my own eyes, but you appear to me for I must confess it to you to apply some kind of jugglery to the business and to deceive the eyes of the spectators while yourself become nothing of the sort. And what deception could there be in a case so clear? Did you not with open eyes see into what I transfigured myself? And if you doubt and the things seem to you to be unreal, a sort of phantasmagoria placed before your eyes, when I become fire, give me your hand, my excellent sir. For you shall know whether I am a mere spectral illusion, or whether, in fact, the property of burning then belongs to me. The experiment is scarcely a safe one, sir Proteus. But you seem to me never to have seen the polypus before, or to know what are the peculiarities of that creature of the sea. Yes, I have seen a polypus, but what are its peculiarities I should be glad to learn from you. Whatever rock it approaches and fastens its suckers on, and hangs clean to and coils, to that it assimilates itself, and it changes its color and mimicry of the rock so that it may escape the notice of the fisherman, being thus not at all different or conspicuous but closely resembling the stone. So they say, but your case is far more strange, my friend Proteus. I don't know, Manilaus. Whom else would you believe if you don't believe your own eyes? Since I sought, I sought. It is true, but the thing is miraculous, the same person to become both fire and water. End of Dialogue 4. Dialogue 5 of The Dialogues of the Sea Gods by Lucian, translated by Harrod Williams. This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Dialogue 5. Panope relates to Galene, the scene of the introduction of the golden apple by Eris, into the nuptial feast of Pelius and Thetis. The discord between the three rival goddesses, and their dismissal to Mount Ida for judgement Penope, read by Alan Mapstone Galene, read by Jean Virai Did you see Galene yesterday, what Eris did at the banquet in Thessaly, because she was not also invited to the feast? I was not at the banquet with you, for Poseidon ordered me, Penope, to keep the sea unagitated meanwhile. But what then did Eris, for not being present as a guest? Thetis and Pelius had already gone off to their bridal chamber, escorted by Amphitrati and Poseidon. But Eris, meanwhile unobserved by any, and she could easily be so, while some were drinking, others making a clatter, or giving all their attention to Apollo, playing on the chithera, or to the muses as they sang, threw into the midst of the banqueting hall a certain very beautiful apple, all of gold Galene. And it was inscribed, let the beautiful one have me, and rolling along as though intentionally, it came where Hera and Aphrodite and Athena were reclining. And when Hermes, taking it up, read out the inscription, we Nairids held our tongues, for what were we to do in the presence of those goddesses. Then they began to put forward each one her pretensions, and each claimed the apple to be her own. And had not Zeus separated them, the affair would have ended even in blows. But says he, I will not myself judge in the matter, although they earnestly called upon him to do so, but go away with you to Ida, to the presence of the youth Paris, who, as he is a connoisseur in female charms, knows how to distinguish the superior beauty. And he would not give wrong judgement. What prey did the goddesses do, Panope? This very day, I believe, they are off to Ida, and somebody will come shortly to announce to us the winner. As I stand here now, I tell you, no other will be victorious with Aphrodite for competitor, unless the umpire be altogether dull-eyed. End of dialogue five. Dialogue six of the dialogues of the sea gods by Lucian, translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The rape of Emma Mone by Poseidon. Triton, read by Adam Bielka. Amy Mone, read by Lian Yao. Poseidon, read by Larry Wilson. Stage directions, read by Phon. Every day Poseidon, there comes a virgin to Lerna to draw water, a very beautiful sort of creature. I don't know for my part that I have seen a more beautiful girl. Some lady, do you mean Triton, or is the girl of the pitcher some maid servant? No indeed, but the daughter of that celebrated Danneau, herself one of the fifty, Amy Mone by name, for I inquired what her name is and her family. Now, Danneau brings up his daughters heartily and teaches them to work for themselves, and both sends them to draw water, and educates them, in other respects, not to be idle. But does she travel all alone so long a journey from Argos to Lerna? All alone. Argo is very thirsty, as you know, so it is necessary to be always fetching water. My dear Triton, in no small degree have you agitated me by your account of the girl. So let us start at once for her. Let us be off. Just now, in fact, is the time for fetching of the water, and she is pretty nearly in the middle of her journey, on her way to Lerna. Harness the chariot then, or stay. That involves much loss of time to harness horses, and to get the equipees ready. Do you bring me rather one of your swiftest dolphins, for I shall mount and ride it in the quickest possible time? See, here you have the flitest of dolphins. Bravely done. Let us drive away. And do you swim by my side, Triton? And now we are arrived at Lerna. I will lie in ambush somewhere here, and do you keep a look out? As soon as ever you perceive her approach. Triton, looking out from his hiding place. She is close by you. Ah, a lovely and blooming girl, Triton, but we have to capture her. Seizes her. Fellow, why have you thus forcibly seized me, and where are you taking me? You are a kidnapper, and I suppose you had been commissioned by my uncle, Egyptis. So I will call out to my father for help. Screaming. Hush this moment, Amimon. It is Poseidon. Why do you talk to me of Poseidon? Why do you offer me this violent, fellow, and drag me down thus into the sea? I shall sink and be drowned, miserable fated being that I am. Have no fear. You shall suffer nothing terrible. On the contrary, I will strike the rock hard by this sea-beach with my Trident, and will cause a fountain to spring up here to be called after your name, and you shall be happy and be the only one of your sisters who, after death, shall not have to draw water. End of Dialogue Six. Dialogue Seven of the Dialogues of the Sea Gods by Lucian, translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Zephyrus Read by Shackel. Notos Read by Stefan. Zephyrus recounts to Notos the metamorphosis and adventures of Io. This heifer, Zephyrus, whom Hermes is conducting into Egypt, through the sea, has Zeus, overcome by passion, actually debauched her? Yes, Notos, but she was then not a heifer, but a daughter of the river Aynicus. Now, however, Hera, out of jealousy, has made her such, because she perceived Zeus to be very much in love. Is he then now still in love with the cow? Very much indeed, and for this reason he sends her to Egypt, and has given us orders not to agitate the sea until she shall have swum across, so that, after having given birth to her child there, and she is already enchant, she may become a divinity, herself and her offspring. The heifer A. Divinity. Undoubtedly, my dear Notos, and she will preside as patroness, as Hermes said, of sailors, and will be our mistress to send out or prevent from blowing whomsoever of us she chooses to. Since then, she is now our mistress, Zephyrus, we must cultivate her good graces. Yes, indeed, for so she will be the more benevolently inclined toward us. Well, let us do so now, for she has already made her passage, and is now escaped safely to land, and you see how she no longer walks on four feet, and Hermes has set her erect, and has made a very beautiful woman of her again. Strange things, these truly, Zephyrus, horns no longer, nor tail, and cloven feet, but a lovely girl. Hermes, however, what has come to him, that he has metamorphosed himself, and, in place of a young man, has become a dog-faced creature? Let us not inquire too curiously, since he knows best what he ought to do. At Poseidon's request the Dolphins narrate to him the story of Aryan's escape, Poseidon read by Larry Wilson. Dolphins, read by Lian Yao. Well done, Dolphins, for you are ever philanthropic. But now you took under your protection, I knows Bratt, and carried him off to the Isthmus, when it fell with its mother from the Scurronian rocks. And now you have taken up, on your back, this harper from Methimna, and swum to Tenerin, with his luggage in harp and all, nor have you allowed him to meet with the miserable death at the hands of the sailors. Don't be surprised, Poseidon, if we do kindnesses to human animals, since we ourselves were men before we were fish. I certainly blame Bacchus for having metamorphosed you after his defeat of you in that naval battle, whereas he ought only to have reduced you to subjection, just as he subjected the rest. But how, pray, did this Aryan business come about, my dear Dolphin? Paryanda, I believe, was pleased with him, and would often send for him on account of his skill. And when he had got rich by the prince's patronage he eagerly longed to make the voyage home to Methimna, to display his wealth. Accordingly, having embarked on board a certain passenger ship, belonging to a set of villains, as he had showed them the quantity of gold and silver he was taking with him, when they were in the middle of the Aegean, the sailors conspire against him. Then, said he, foreswimming by the side of the vessel, I heard everything. Since you have determined upon this crime, at all events suffer me of my own accord to throw myself overboard after having assumed my proper dress, and some a dirge over myself. The sailors gave him leave, and he assumed his musician's dress, and sang very sweetly, and fell into the sea, as though he was certainly to die that moment. But I, intercepting him, and placing him on my back, swam off with him to tinair him. I commend you for your love of music, a worthy remuneration indeed, for your privilege of hearing him have you paid him. End of Dialogue 8. Poseidon and Amphitrati dispute as to the fitting place of burial for Helle drowned in the Hellespont. Poseidon directs the Nyredes to take up her body and bury it in the Troad. Poseidon read by Laurie Wilson. Amphitrati read by Alan Mapstone. The Nyredes, read by Anita Sloma Martinez. This trait where the girl was carried away by the tide, let it be called Hellespontus after her, and do you Nyredes take up the corpse and bury it to the Troad, that it may be buried by the people of that country? Not so Poseidon, but let it be buried here in the sea to which she has given her name. Will we compassionate her for her most pitiless sufferings at the hands of her stepmother? That Amphitrati is not lawful, nor besides is it becoming that she lie under the sand hereabouts. But as I said, she shall forthwith be buried in the Troad, or in the Kershonise, and this will be no small comfort for her. That I know too shall shortly suffer the same fate, and pursued by Athimus shall fall into the sea from the promenatory of Ketheron, where it stretches itself into the waves with her son also in her arms. But we shall have to gratify Bacchus, and save her too, for I know was his nurse, and suckled him. No, we ought not to save her, since she is so wicked. It is not proper, however, to disablige Bacchus, Amphitrati. But she, pray, what possessed her to fall off the ram while her brother Frixus rides safely? It happened as might be expected, for he is a young man, and able to hold on against the rapid motion. But she, by reason of her inexperience, upon mounting the strange vehicle and gazing into the yawning depths was stupefied, and at the same time overcome by terror, and becoming giddy from the excessive rapidity of the flight, lost her hold on the ram's horns, to which until then she had clung, and fell into the sea. Pray, should not her mother, Nepheli, have come to the aid of the falling girl? She ought to have done so. But fate is much more powerful than Nepheli. IRIS CONVEYS TO POSIDON THE COMMANDS OF ZEUS THAT HE SHOULD KEEP THE ISLAND OF DELOS STATIONARY WHERE LITTO WAS TO LION. IRIS RED BY AVAI. POSIDON RED BY DELARY WILSON. THAT WONDERING ISLAND, POSIDON, DETATCHED FROM CICILY, WHOSE FATED IS STILL TO BE SWIMMING ABOUT SUBMERGED, THAT SAME, SAYS ZEUS, YOU ARE NOW IMMEDIATELY TO BRING TO A STAND STILL AND BEAR IT UP TO DAYLIGHT, AND CAUSE IT AT ONCE TO REMAIN FIRMLY GROUNDED, A CONSPICUOUS OBJECT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AGEN, FIXING IT QUITE SECURELY, FOR THERE WILL BE SOME NEED OF IT. It shall be done this moment, IRIS. What convenience, however, will it afford him, when it has been brought up to the surface, and no longer sails about? Leto is to lie in on it, for at this very moment she is ill with the pangs of labour. What then? Is not heaven a fitting place for her to produce her children in? And if that locality is not, that all events could not the whole earth give shelter to her offspring? No, Poseidon, for here I bound the earth with a great oath not to afford a receptacle for Leto in her labour. This island, however, is not pledged, for it was invisible. I perceive, stand still, island, and rise again from the deep, and no longer be born along under the waves, but remain firm and motionless, and receive and harbour. O most highly-favoured one, the two children of my brother, the most beautiful of the gods, and do you, Tritons, convey the lady across to it, and let a universal calm prevail. But as for the dragon which now terrifies and goes her to madness, the infants, as soon as they are born, shall pursue it immediately and avenge their mother. Now do you carry word to Zeus that everything is in good order? Delos stands immovable. Let Leto come at once and lie in. End of dialogue ten. Dialogue eleven of the Dialogues of the Sea Gods by Lucian. Translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Dialogue eleven. The river Xanthus supplicates Thalassa the sea to receive him and cure his burns inflicted upon him by Hephaestus on behalf of Achilles. Xanthus, read by Jean Vidae. Thalassa, read by B. L. Newman. Save me, O Thalassa, in my terrible sufferings and quench my fiery wounds. What's this, Xanthus? Who burnt you up? Hephaestus. Yes, I am all burned to a cinder, ill-fated wretch that I am, and I am at boiling pitch. Why, pray, did he throw fire upon you? On account of the son of Thetis here, for when I approached him as a suppliant as he was murdering the Phrygians and I could not make him seize from his rage, but he kept blocking up my stream under the weight of the corpses. Out of pity for the poor wretches I rushed upon him, intending to immerse him that he might be frightened and abstain from slaughter of the men. Hereupon Hephaestus, for he happened to be somewhere near, with all the fire as I imagine he had in his forge and all he had in Etna and wherever else he may have any, attacked me and burned up all my elms and tamarisks and roasted to the unfortunate fish and eels and causing myself to boil over, all but entirely dried me up. You perceive, then, how I am affected by these marks of the conflagration. You are turbid and feverish and hot as might be expected. Blood flows from dead bodies, heat, as you say, from fire. And not unreasonably, my friend Xanthus, did this happen to you? For making an assault upon my grandson, without respecting the fact of his being a myriad son. Should I not, then, have had pity on the Phrygians, my neighbours? And should not Hephaestus have shown pity to Achilles, who is the son of Thetis? End of dialogue 11. Dialogue 12 of the Dialogues of the Sea Gods by Lucian, translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Thetis relates to Doris the story of the exposure of Dane and her infant Perseus. Doris read by phone. Thetis read by Christine G. Why do you weep, Thetis? I saw just now a most beautiful girl cast into a chest, herself and her newly born babe, and the father gave orders to the sailors to take away the chest and, when they had got apt some distance from the land, to let it drop into the sea so that the wretched girl might perish but she and her baby. For what reason, my sister? Tell me, if you know it at all, the whole story exactly. Her father, Achreus, incarcerating her in a certain brazen chamber, kept her a virgin, just beautiful though she was. Then, if it be true, I can't say, but they do say that Zeus, transformed into gold, flowed in a stream through the roof to her, and that she received the fluid God into her arms and became pregnant. Her father, a savage and jealous sort of fellow, learning this, was in a great rage and, suspecting she had been debauched by some mortal, thrust her into the chest as soon as ever she had been delivered. And she? What did she do when she was dropped into the sea? As regarded herself, Doris, she was silent and was content to endure her sentence, but for the babe she kept entreating that it might not die, weeping and showing it, most beautiful babe that it was, to its grandfather, while the infant itself, in its ignorance of its misfortunes, actually smiled at the sight of the sea. I feel my eyes filled with tears again in recounting them. You made me shed tears, too, but are they no dead? By no means, for the chest is still floating about Serifis, preserving them alive. Why, then, don't we save it by putting it into the nets of those Serifian fishermen? And they, no doubt, will draw it out and save their lives. You say well, so let us do, for neither must she herself perish, nor must the infant, seeing it is so bonny. End of dialogue 12 Dialogue 13 of The Dialogues of the Seagods by Lucien, translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. N.A. Pierce reproaches Poseidon with the fraudulent seduction of the nymph Tyro. Poseidon excuses himself. N.A. Pierce, read by Rob Marland. Poseidon read by Larry Wilson. This is no honourable conduct, Poseidon, for the truth shall be told. Having made yourself like me, you stealthily approached my mistress, and debauched the girl, while she supposed she underwent this at my hands, and for that reason she yielded herself up. Yes, for you were disdainful and dilatory. You who neglected so good looking a girl, who paid you daily visits dying for love, and took pleasure in causing her pain, while she, wandering along your banks and even entering your stream, and sometimes bathing, was dying to have your embrace. But you would give yourself air towards her. What then, or do you, on that account, to who forestalled my love, passed yourself off as N.A. Pierce instead of Poseidon, and cheated a simple-minded girl like Tyro? It is now too late for you to be jealous, N.A. Pierce. Supercilious before. That is for Tyro, she has not suffered anything very dreadful, since she thinks that she has lost her virginity to you. Not so indeed. For you declared, at your leaving her, you were Poseidon, a fact which grieves her above everything, and I have been injured in this, that you were then enjoying my privileges, and by raising a sort of dark wave all around which concealed you together, you enjoyed the girl in my place. Yes, for you, my friend, N.A. Pierce, had no desire to have her. Dialogue 14 of The Dialogues of the Sea Gods by Lucian, translated by Howard Williams. This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. 14. A Triton relates to the Nareads, the story of the rescue of Andromeda by Perseus. Triton, read by Adam Bielka. Typhon Assa, read by Sedonimus Nord. Doris, read by Foam. That sea monster of yours, Nareads, which you sent against Andromeda, the daughter of Cepheus, did no harm to the girl, as you imagine, while itself has now perished. At whose hands, Triton, did Cepheus expose the girl as a bait, and rush upon and slay it, lying in ambush with a large force? Not so, but you, if Yiannasa, know, I suppose, Perseus, denies baby, whom, with his mother, you saved out of pity, when she was cast into the sea, in the chest by his maternal grandfather. I know whom you speak of, and lightly enough he is now a young man, and very noble and handsome to look at. He has killed the monster. Why Triton? Surely it did not become him to repay us such reward for saving him. I will explain to you the whole matter as it happened. He set out against the Gorgons to perform some arduous deed of that sort for the king, and when he arrived in Libya. In what fashion, Triton, alone, or did he take some others with him as auxiliaries? He took companions doubtless, for otherwise the road is difficult of passage. Through the air, for Athena supplied him with wings, and when accordingly he came where they were living, they were asleep, I imagine, and he cut off the head of Medusa, and took to his wings and made off. How did he get a look at her, for they are not to be seen, or whoever does have a look at them, will never thereafter look at anything else? Athena, by holding before him her shield, for I heard him afterwards telling Andromeda and Kethias so. Athena, I say, upon her resplendent shield, as upon a mirror, allowed him to have a glimpse of the reflection from Medusa, then, seizing her by the hair with his left hand, and fixing his eyes upon the reflection. He grasped his cemetery with his right, and cut off her head, and flew off before her sister's awoke, and when he had arrived in the neighborhood of the sea coast of Ethiopia here, while now flying near to the earth, he sees Andromeda lying exposed upon a certain projecting rock, fast-secured to it a most beautiful object, ye gods, with her tresses let down, half-naked, much below the breasts. In the first place, pitying her fate, he began questioning her, as to the cause of her condemnation. But insensibly, captured by passion, for the girl had to be saved, he resolved to bring aid to her, and when the sea monster rushed towards her, exceedingly terrible, as though about to swallow Andromeda whole, the youth suspended above in the air, his cemetery grasped by the hilt, with one hand aims his blows, and with the other displays the gorgon's head in front of him, and turn the creature into stone, and it died there and then, and the greater part of it, as much as looked upon Medusa, is petrified, then unfastening the virgin's bonds, and giving her his hand, he supported her as she descended on Tiptoe, from the rock, which was smooth and slippery, and now he is celebrating his nuttuals in the palace of Kepheus, and he will carry her off to Argo, so that, instead of death, she is found a bridegroom one does not meet with every day. Well, for my part, I am not excessively grieved at the event, for how the girl did draw us, if her mother did boast some more loudly on that occasion, and claimed to be fairer than we. The girl ought to have perished notwithstanding, for so the mother would have suffered pain on account of her daughter, if at least she is a true mother. Let us no longer, Taurus, bear these wrongs in mind, though a female of barbaric birth, talked somewhat in a style beyond her proper rank and situation, for in having been frightened on account of her child, she is paid to us a sufficient penalty. Let us therefore rejoice at her wedding. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Zephyrus read by Sheikville. Notos, read by Stefan. Zephyrus relates to notice the manner of the rape of Europa, and a marine pomp with which she was conducted to her nuptials with Zeus. Never did I see a more magnificent procession on the sea, since I was born and began to blow. But you, did you not see it, Notos? What is this procession you talk of, Zephyrus, or who were the processionists? You have missed the most delicious spectacle, the like of which you may never see again. Yes, for I was employed in the neighborhood of the Red Sea, and indeed I blow over part of India, as much of the country as stretches along the sea coast. I know, therefore, nothing of what you speak of. But you know of a genor of Sidon? Yes, the father of Europa, what then? It is about herself I will relate to you a story. It is not, is it, that Zeus has been for a long time the girl's lover. For that I knew quite a long while ago. You are then aware of the Amur, but listen now to the sequel. Europa had gone down to the shore in sportive mood, taking with her companions of her own age, and Zeus, making himself like a bull, began to sport with them, seeming a very handsome creature, for he was perfectly white, and had beautifully crumpled horns, and was tame and quite in look. He began then as he was, too frolic about upon the shore, and to bellow most sweetly, so that Europa ventured even to mount him. And as soon as this was done, Zeus started off with her at a running pace towards the sea, and plunging in began to swim, but she, very much terrified at the occurrence, with her left hand kept clinging to his horn, that she might not slip off, while with the other she held together her long flowing dress, blown about by the wind. That was a charming spectacle, Zephyrus, you witnessed. And an amorous Zeus swimming, carrying his beloved. Yet what followed was far more delightful notice, for to see from that moment was without a ripple, and attracting a perfect calm showed itself smooth and unruffled. We however, keeping quiet, followed, being no more than mere spectators of what was happening, and the loves hovering a little above the sea, so as at times to graze the water with the tips of their feet, with lighted torches, saying together the hymenial song, while the myriads, emerging from the sea, rode by their side upon dolphins, clapping their hands, most of them half-naked, then, too, the whole tribe of tritons, and whatever else of the seed-wellers is not terrible to decide, all led their dances round the girl. Poseidon, indeed, mounting upon his chariot, and with anathetrity riding at his side, led the way with hilarity, clearing the way for his swimming brother. To crown all, two tritons were bearing Aphrodite, who reclined upon a shell, and scattered all sorts of flowers before the bride. This took place all the way from Phoenicia as far as Crete, but when he had set foot on the island, the bull was no longer to be seen. Then Zeus, taking her by the hand, conducted Europa to the cave of Dicti, blushing in with eyes cast down, for now she knew to what she was being led, and we, plunging in, set to work, to put the sea in commotion, one in one part, and another in another. O fortunate Zephyrus, to have seen such a sight, but I, for my part, had to satisfy my eyes, with elephants, griffins, and black men. End of dialogue 15.