So he placed the golden apple in the palm of her snow-white hand, and the touch of her slender fingers thrilled through the heart of Paris as she parted from him with smiling lip and laughing eye. But Here, the Queen, and Athene, the virgin child of Zeus, went away displeased, and evermore their wrath lay heavy on the city and land of Ilion.
Then went Paris to Œnone, and he twined his arms around her and said, "Didst thou see the dark countenance of the lady Here when I gave to the fairest the gift which the fairest alone may have? Yet what care I for the wrath of Here and Athene? One smile from the lips of Aphrodite is better than their favor for a whole life long." But Œnone answered sadly, "I would that thou mayest speak truly, Paris; yet in my eyes the lady Athene is fairer far, and Aphrodite is ever false as fair." Then Paris clasped her closer in his arms and kissed her pale cheek, and said nothing.
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But the fierce wrath of Eris was not ended yet. Far away in the western land, there was sore famine in the kingdom of the mighty Menelaus, the people died by the wayside, and the warriors had no strength to go forth to the battle or the huntsmen to the chase. Many times they sought to know the will of the gods, but they heard only dark words for answers, till Phœbus Apollo said that the famine should never cease from the land until they brought from Ilion the bones of the children of Prometheus, whom Zeus bound on the desolate crags of Caucasus. So Menelaus, the King, departed from his home and went to the city of Priam. There he saw the beautiful Paris, and took him to the Spartan land, for he said that Paris should return home rich and wealthy. So Paris believed his words, and sailed with him over the wide sea. Long time he abode in Sparta, and day by day he saw the lady Helen in the halls of Menelaus. At the first he thought within himself, "I would that Œnone were here to see the wife of Menelaus, for surely she is fairer than aught else on the earth." But soon he thought less and less of Œnone, who was sorrowing for his long sojourn in the strange land, as she wandered amid the pine forests of woody Ida.
Quickly sped the days for Paris, for his heart was filled with a strange love, and the will of Eris was being accomplished within him. He thought not of Œnone and her lonely wanderings on heathy Ida; he cared not for the kindly deeds of Menelaus; and so it came to pass that, when Menelaus was far away, Paris spoke words of evil love to Helen and beguiled her to leave her home. Stealthily they fled away, and sailed over the sea till they came to the Ilion land; and Helen dwelt with Paris in the house of his father, Priam.
But Œnone mourned for the love which she had lost, and her tears fell into the gentle stream of Kebren as she sat on its grassy banks. "Ah me," she said, "my love hath been stung by Aphrodite. O Paris, Paris! hast thou forgotten all thy words? Here thine arms were clasped around me, and here, as thy lips were pressed to mine, thou didst say that the wide earth had for thee no living thing so fair as Œnone. Sure am I that Helen hath brought to thee only a false joy; for her heart is not thine as the heart of a maiden when it is given to her first love; and sure am I, too, that Helen is not a fairer wife than I, for my heart is all thine, and the beauty of woman is marred when she yields herself to a lawless love. But the cloud is gathering round thee; and I am sprung from the race of the gods, and mine eyes are opened to behold the things that willingly I would not see. I see the waters black with ships, and the hosts of the Achaians gathered round the walls of Ilion. I see the moons roll round, while thy people strive in vain against the wrath of Here and the might of the son of Peleus; and far away I see the flames that shall burn the sacred Ilion. I see thy father smitten down in his own hall, and the spear that shall drink thy life-blood. Ah me! for the doom that is coming, and for the pleasant days when we loved and wandered among the dells of Ida."
So Paris dwelt with Helen in the house of Priam; but men said, "This is no more the brave Alexandros," for he lay at ease on silken couches, and his spear and shield hung idle on the wall. For him the wine sparkled in the goblet while the sun rose high in the heavens, and he cared only to listen to the voice of Helen, or the minstrels who sang of the love and the bowers of laughter-loving Aphrodite. And Helen sat by his side in sullen mood, for she thought of the former days and of the evil which she had done to the good King Menelaus. Then there came into her heart a deep hatred for Paris, and she loathed him for his false words and his fond looks, as he lay quaffing the wine and taking his rest by day and by night upon the silken couches.