1. HERA: I’d be ashamed of such a son, if he were mine, Zeus. He’s so effeminate, and such a degenerate sot, putting ribbons in his hair, spending most of his time with mad women, himself a bigger softie than any of them, and dancing to drums, pipes and cymbals. Indeed he’s like anyone but you his father, Zeus.
1. ΗΡΑ: Ἐγὼ μὲν ᾐσχυνόμην ἄν, ὦ Ζεῦ, εἴ μοι τοιοῦτος υἱὸς ἦν, θῆλυς οὕτω καὶ διεφθαρμένος ὑπὸ τῆς μέθης, μίτρᾳ μὲν ἀναδεδεμένος τὴν κόμην, τὰ πολλὰ δὲ μαινομέναις γυναιξὶ συνών, ἁβρότερος αὐτῶν ἐκείνων, ὑπὸ τυμπάνοις καὶ αὐλῷ καὶ κυμβάλοις χορεύων, καὶ ὅλως παντὶ μᾶλλον ἐοικὼς ἢ σοὶ τῷ πατρί.
ZEUS: Yet, Hera, this wearer of females’ ribbons, this “bigger softie than the women”, has subdued Lydia and the inhabitants of Tmolus, and forced the Thracians into subjection; he’s been on an expedition against Indians with this army of women, capturing their elephants and seizing their country, and when their king dared to stand up to him for a little, he took him prisoner and carried him off; and while he was doing all this, he was dancing and cavorting the whole time, and used nothing but wands of ivy, drunk and possessed though you say he was. And if any one dares to scoff at his rites and insult him, punishes him by tying him up with vine-twigs *, or makes the mans mother tear him to pieces as though he were a fawn. Can’t you see in this manly courage, worthy of his father? If these activities are accompanied by fun and soft living, why grudge him these things, especially if you imagine what he would be like if sober, when he can do this when tipsy?
ΖΕΥΣ: Καὶ μὴν οὗτός γε ὁ θηλυμίτρης, ὁ ἁβρότερος τῶν γυναικῶν οὐ μόνον, ὦ Ἥρα, τὴν Λυδίαν ἐχειρώσατο καὶ τοὺς κατοικοῦντας τὸν Τμῶλον ἔλαβε καὶ Θρᾷκας ὑπηγάγετο, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐπ' Ἰνδοὺς ἐλάσας τῷ γυναικείῳ τούτῳ στρατιωτικῷ τούς τε ἐλέφαντας εἷλε καὶ τῆς χώρας ἐκράτησε καὶ τὸν βασιλέα πρὸς ὀλίγον ἀντιστῆναι τολμήσαντα αἰχμάλωτον ἀπήγαγε, καὶ ταῦτα πάντα ἔπραξεν ὀρχούμενος ἅμα καὶ χορεύων θύρσοις χρώμενος κιττίνοις, μεθύων, ὡς φῄς, καὶ ἐνθεάζων. εἰ δέ τις ἐπεχείρησε λοιδορήσασθαι αὐτῷ ὑβρίσας ἐς τὴν τελετήν, καὶ τοῦτον ἐτιμωρήσατο ἢ καταδήσας τοῖς κλήμασιν ἢ διασπασθῆναι ποιήσας ὑπὸ τῆς μητρὸς ὥσπερ νεβρόν. ὁρᾷς ὡς ἀνδρεῖα ταῦτα καὶ οὐκ ἀνάξια τοῦ πατρός; εἰ δὲ παιδιὰ καὶ τρυφὴ πρόσεστιν αὐτοῖς, οὐδεὶς φθόνος, καὶ μάλιστα εἰ λογίσαιτό τις, οἷος ἂν οὗτος νήφων ἦν, ὅπου ταῦτα μεθύων ποιεῖ.
2. HERA: It sounds as if you’ll be all for his invention, too—I mean the vine and its juice—though you see how drunks behave, staggering about and turning to violence, quite maddened by their drink. Take Icarius, the first one to whom he gave the vine—he was killed by his boon companions with mattocks.
2. ΗΡΑ: Σύ μοι δοκεῖς ἐπαινέσεσθαι καὶ τὸ εὕρεμα αὐτοῦ, τὴν ἄμπελον καὶ τὸν οἶνον, καὶ ταῦτα ὁρῶν οἷα οἱ μεθυσθέντες ποιοῦσι σφαλλόμενοι καὶ πρὸς ὕβριν τρεπόμενοι καὶ ὅλως μεμηνότες ὑπὸ τοῦ ποτοῦ· τὸν γοῦν Ἰκάριον, ᾧ πρώτῳ ἔδωκεν τὸ κλῆμα, οἱ ξυμπόται αὐτοὶ διέφθειραν παίοντες ταῖς δικέλλαις.
ZEUS: That doesn’t get you anywhere. You can’t blame wine or Dionysus for such things, but drinking to excess, and swilling down neat wine beyond what’s decent. But the man who drinks in moderation will become more cheerful and better company, and never treat any of his cronies as Icarius was treated. I see what’s wrong with you, Hera; you’re still jealous and haven’t forgotten Semele, judging by the way you find fault with all that’s best in Dionysus.
ΖΕΥΣ: Οὐδὲν τοῦτο φῄς· οὐ γάρ οἶνος ταῦτα οὐδὲ ὁ Διόνυσος ποιεῖ, τὸ δὲ ἄμετρον τῆς πόσεως καὶ τὸ πέρα τοῦ καλῶς ἔχοντος ἐμφορεῖσθαι τοῦ ἀκράτου. ὃς δ’ ἂν ἔμμετρα πίνῃ, ἱλαρώτερος μὲν καὶ ἡδίων γένοιτ' ἄν· οἷον δὲ ὁ Ἰκάριος ἔπαθεν, οὐδὲν ἂν ἐργάσαιτο οὐδένα τῶν ξυμποτῶν. ἀλλὰ σὺ ἔτι ζηλοτυπεῖν ἔοικας, ὦ Ἥρα, καὶ τῆς Σεμέλης μνημονεύειν, ἥ γε διαβάλλεις τοῦ Διονύσου τὰ κάλλιστα.