Juno, queen of heaven, next appeared in royal robes and insignia, and whispered that he should have great wealth and unlimited power were he only to award the prize to her.
“She to Paris made
Proffer of royal power, ample rule
Unquestion’d, overflowing revenue
Wherewith to embellish state, ‘from many a vale
And river-sunder’d champaign clothed with corn,
Or labor’d mine undrainable of ore.
Honor,’ she said, ‘and homage, tax and toll,
From many an inland town and haven large,
Mast-throng’d beneath her shadowing citadel
In glassy bays among her tallest towers.’”
Tennyson.
But all Minerva’s and Juno’s charms and bribes were forgotten when Venus, in her magic cestus, appeared before the judge. This artful simplicity was the result of much thought, for we are told that
“Venus oft with anxious care
Adjusted twice a single hair.”
Cowper.
Then, trembling lest her efforts should prove vain, she gently drew near the youth, and softly promised him a bride as fair as herself, in return for the coveted golden apple.
Won either by her superior attractions or by her alluring bribe, Paris no longer hesitated, but placed the prize in her extended palm.
“Ere yet her speech was finished, he consign’d
To her soft hand the fruit of burnished rind;
And foam-born Venus grasp’d the graceful meed,
Of war, of evil war, the quickening seed.”
Coluthus (Elton’s tr.).
This act of partiality, of course, called down upon him the wrath and hatred of Juno and Minerva, who, biding their time, watched for a suitable opportunity to avenge themselves; while Venus, triumphant, and anxious to redeem her promise, directed Paris to return to Troy, make himself known to his parents,—who, the goddess promised, would welcome him warmly,—and obtain from them a fleet in which he might sail to Greece.
