Book 13
1
I won’t mince words, Poseidon. Your behaviour’s been disgraceful—tricking my sweetheart Tyro, cf. Odyssey, XI, 235 ff. by impersonating me, and leading the child astray. She thought I was doing it and submitted.
1
You were so proud and so slow, Enipeus. A pretty girl like that came to you every day, dying of love, and you wouldn’t look at her, but enjoyed tormenting her! She would wander about your banks, putting her feet in and washing sometimes, praying for your love, but you always turned up your nose at her.
2
Even if I did, what right had you to forestall me and steal her love, pretending to be Enipeus rather than Poseidon, and winning a simple girl like Tyro by a trick?
2
It’s too late to be jealous now, Enipeus. You despised her before. Tyro’s suffered no harm. She thought it was you.
2
Oh, no! When you left her, you said you were Poseidon, and that upset her very much. It was unfair to me, too, for you to enjoy pleasures that should be mine, making a blue wave arch above you and hide you both, and making love to the girl in my place.
2
Yes, but only because you didn’t want her, Enipeus.
