on nectar and ambrosia, which makes them immortal; just as the Amrita
makes the Hindoo gods so. So in the Iliad we see them at their feast, with
Vulcan handing each the cup, pouring out nectar for them all. "And then
inextinguishable laughter arose among the immortal gods, when they saw
Vulcan bustling through the mansion. So they feasted all day till sundown;
nor did the soul want anything of the equal feast, nor of the beautiful
harp which Apollo held, nor of the Muses, who accompanied him, responding
in turn with delicious voice."

"But when the splendid light of the sun was sunk, they retired to repose,
each one to his house, which renowned Vulcan, lame of both legs, had
built. But Olympian Zeus went to his couch, and laid down to rest beside
white-armed Here."[229]

Or sometimes they fight together, or with mortals; instances of both
appear in the Iliad. It must be admitted that they do not appear to
advantage in these conflicts. They usually get the worst of it, and go
back to Zeus to complain. In the Twenty-first Book they fight together,
Ares against Athene, Athene also against his helper, Aphrodite; Poseidon
and Here against Apollo and Artemis, Vulcan against the river god,
Scamander. Ares called Athene impudent, and threatened to chastise her.
She seized a stone and struck him on the neck, and relaxed his knees.
Seven acres he covered falling, and his back was defiled with dust; but
Pallas-Athene jeered at him; and when Aphrodite led him away groaning
frequently, Pallas-Athene sprang after, and smote her with her hand,
dissolving her knees and dear heart. Apollo was afraid of Poseidon, and
declined fighting with him when challenged, for which Artemis rebuked him.
On this, Here tells her that she can kill stags on the mountains, but is
afraid to fight with her betters, and then proceeds to punish her, holding
both the hands of Artemis in one of hers, and beating her over the head
with her own bow. A disgraceful scene altogether, we must confess, and it
is no wonder that Plato was scandalized by such stories.

Thus purely human were these gods; spending the summer's day in feasting
beneath the open sky; going home at sundown to sleep, like a parcel of
great boys and girls. They are immortal indeed, and can make men so
sometimes, but cannot always prevent the death of a favorite. Above them
all broods a terrible power, mightier than themselves, the dark Fate and
irresistible Necessity. For, after all, as human