"Did the winning of the bull bring sorrow either to thee or to me?" he asked scornfully.
Œnone was silent under his rebuke, though she knew her foreboding would come true. When the sun was almost high in the heavens, she came to him softly where he lay on the grass and kissed his hand.
"Zeus grant thee wisdom in thy judgment, Paris," she said, and glided away swiftly through the trees, that he might not see the tears in her eyes.
Then his heart smote him for his scornful words, and he rose up hastily from the ground and called to her,
"Œnone, Œnone!"
But she answered him not, and when he looked for her among the trees, he could find no trace of her. Now it was close upon noon, and he hastened back to the glade, where Iris had bidden him stay, and waited for the coming of the goddesses. In the clear bright light of noontide they came and stood before him in the shade of the forest trees; and he fell on his knees before them, filled with wonder and awe, and cast his eyes upon the ground, for he was afraid to look upon such majesty and beauty. Thereupon they drew near to him and bade him not be afraid, but rise and give his judgment. So he rose from his knees and looked upon them; and minute after minute passed, while still he gazed, for he could not make up his mind, so passing fair was each.
"Ah, lady goddesses," he said at last, "take the apple and divide it into three, for I cannot say who is the fairest among you."
"Nay, that may not be," they said; "thou must give it to one, and one alone."
As he still hesitated, Hera spoke.