“Paris was fashioning a slender reed into a shepherd’s flute; while Oenone, sitting in the deeper shadows of some clustering vines, was busy with some simple piece of needlework.

“A sound as of sweet music caused the young shepherd to raise his eyes.  Before him stood the four immortals, Hera, Athena, Aphrodite, and Hermes the messenger; their faces shone with a dazzling radiance, and they were fairer than any tongue can describe.  At their feet rare flowers sprang up, crocuses and asphodels and white lilies; and the air was filled with the odor of orange blossoms.  Paris, scarce knowing what he did, arose to greet them.  No handsomer youth ever stood in the presence of beauty.  Straight as a mountain pine was he; a leopard-skin hung carelessly upon his shoulders; his head was bare, but his locks clustered round his temples in sunny curls, and formed fit framework for his fair brows.

“Hermes spoke first:  ’Paris, we have come to seek thy help; there is strife among the folk who dwell on Mount Olympus.  Here are Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, each claiming to be the fairest, and each clamoring for this prize, this golden apple.  Now we pray that you will judge this matter, and give the apple to the one whom you may deem most beautiful.’

“Then Hera began her plea at once:  ‘I know that I am fairest,’ she said, ’for I am queen, and mine it is to rule among gods and men.  Give me the prize, and you shall have wealth, and a kingdom, and great glory; and men in aftertimes shall sing your praises.’

“And Paris was half tempted to give the apple, without further ado, to Hera, the proud queen.  But gray-eyed Athena spoke:  ’There is that, fair youth, which is better than riches or honor or great glory.  Listen to me, and I will give thee wisdom and a pure heart; and thy life shall be crowned with peace, and sweetened with love, and made strong by knowledge.  And though men may not sing of thee in after-times, thou shall find lasting happiness in the answer of a good conscience towards all things.”

“Then Oenone whispered from her place among the leaves, ’Give the prize to Athena; she is the fairest.’  And Paris would have placed the golden apple in her hand, had not Aphrodite stepped quickly forward, and in the sweetest, merriest tones, addressed him.

“’You may look at my face, and judge for yourself as to whether I am fair,’ said she laughing, and tossing her curls.  ’All I shall say is this:  Give me the prize, and you shall have for your wife the most beautiful woman in the world.’

“The heart of Oenone stood still as Paris placed the apple in Aphrodite’s hand; and a nameless dread came over her, as if the earth were sinking beneath her feet.  But the next moment the blood came back to her cheeks, and she breathed free and strong again; for she heard Paris say, ’I have a wife, Oenone, who to me is the loveliest of mortals, and I care not for your offer; yet I give to you the apple, for I know that you are the fairest among the deathless ones who live on high Olympus.’”