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Iris found her faint and pale from the loss of blood; she did all in her power to soothe and comfort the wounded goddess, and then led her farther still among the mountains to a place where they found Mars, the god of war, standing with his chariot. Mars was Aphrodite's brother. He took compassion upon his sister in her distress, and lent Iris his chariot and horses, to convey Aphrodite home.
At first she had been thinking of, speaking to, him as if for his own good, moved by a sort of dim pity that surely belonged rather to the girl she had been than to the woman she actually was. Now the darkness of this lonely temple and the knowledge that it was Aphrodite's she thought always of Hathor as Aphrodite preyed again upon her spirit as when she first came to it.
Queen Aphrodite's Daughters are we, She that was born Of the morn And the sea; White are our limbs As the foam on the wave, Wild are our hymns And our lovers are brave! Queen Aphrodite, Born of the sea, Beautiful dutiful daughters Are we!
See what gold can do! It is like Aphrodite's girdle, transforming the unsightly and making them lovely to behold. What say the poets? Happy the hand that grasps thee, Gold! and again, Gold hath dominion over mortal men. But what are you laughing at? Cock.
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