And when the men have finished their beating of chests
when they have sated their desire for wrangling
and have divided up the spoils
They leave only the blame upon the table.

That blame is to be assigned to me.
I, the whole source of the matter, they claim.
They say that the war would not have occurred
save for the vanity of goddesses

Know that when Eris did throw the apple
Zeus chose a judge not based off his impartiality
but rather the judge that had ruled in favor of his son.
And promised prizes for the judging

It was not our vanity which dictated the reward
but rather the reward that any parent, any lover, any friend
would give to a friend that showed respect and love.
A favor bestowed upon a deserving supplicant.

For her part, Athena offered wisdom,
a gift that brings as much pain as it does pleasure.
And Paris the fool, had already given his loyalty
to the glory and rage of my lover Ares.

Hera, the queen, offered a crown and all the responsibility
that hangs upon the heavy brow of a king.
Paris the wastrel recoiled at the thought of such lofty goals,
Happier to remain a prince and honored for birth.

And I offered him nothing but the love of a woman.
A woman who could be the greatest love of the world.
I offered him love, nothing more.
And Paris immediately awarded me honors for it.

Paris had no need to take fair Helen from her home.
She bore him love, and that was what I had promised.
Paris chose to steal her from her people and her home.
Had he loved her, known her, and cared for her,
there would have been no war.

Perhaps her Menelaus would have understood love.
For I might have whispered words of desire into his ears.
He might have found sport among others, knowing that his line
was secure, despite the matters of the heart which are my domain.

Yet instead, Paris chose to avoid conflict, the test I had provided for him.
He stole away in the night, with Helen's child wailing in the dark.
For love to grow it must be tended, not yanked from the tree
while still green and expected to ripen upon its own.

And so the love never came to fruition,
And instead of the great love I dreamed
for the songs of poets and the chant of the choruses
instead deeds of honor, Glory, And Death

For which you have blamed me. Oh Foolish Men,
Do not speak to me of glory deserved and vengeance for murder.
Speak not of Arms, of City Walls, or of great Ships.
They have no use to the dead.

For when you return home, you will seek comfort at my shrines.
You will remember the days you have spent here in every future embrace,
You will remember the faces of those you have slain,
and you will wish that you had remembered that it was not Paris alone.

It was every one of you that set foot on the ships.
It was each of you that struck his fellows in anger.
It was those of you who poured the wine, and warmed the beds.
And most of all, it was you who chose to blame others for your actions.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qNEKmGDz4DY]