Work Text:
Sing to me, oh Muse, of a man with an insatiable lust.
A man whose skin glistened and gleamed as if it was made of gold,
Copper locks sculpted by Haphestus himself
With the physique that puts Herakles to shame.
Sylvain Gautier of Phaere
With his chiseled cheeks and blinding smile
Sought not of the heart of a mortal
But of the Goddess of Love herself
Goddess Dorothea, of love and lust
Heard the mortal Sylvain’s boasts
For he proclaimed that he could bed
The most desired goddess of the realm
So Dorothea, in all of her godly might
Appeared to Sylvain as a blinding light
And offered him her bed if
He were to win her heart
Sylvain, too eager, accepted the bet
Before he could hear the rest
For he must give up his Pride
If he were to spurn the goddess’ heart
Sylvain the cunning began to scheme
He had conquered the heart of every mortal
And won the riches of the realm
But what could make a goddess kneel?
He searched ‘till the ends of the earth
Surely, something must match her worth
Finally he found the key
That will unlock the treasure that he seeks
Sylvain returned to his palace
Eager to return to his prize
Upon the throne was sat
A beggar dressed in rags.
“Dear Sylvain, I ask for your bed.
For I have travelled to the ends of the earth
In search of your comfort and grace
Will you let me rest these old bones of mine?”
Another mortal might have spurned this hag
But Sylvain was not any mortal
For he had known the gods’ tricks
And abruptly changed his plan.
He allowed her in his bed
And as the day began to break
Sylvain found himself not with a hag
But of a beautiful woman instead
It was the goddess Dorothea
Who graced him with her light
For he had accepted her not as a goddess
But as an old, wrinkly hag.