High up on Olympus, Aphrodite heard this plea by all of the women on her island, and had every intention of answering their prayer.
After a hard day’s work, Pygmalion was crawling into bed. Moonlight poured through his window, casting fingers of milky light across the room. Suddenly a voice spoke out of nowhere, the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. “You have upset the women of this island, Pygmalion.”
He spun around to see the silhouette of an unusually tall woman standing in the centre of the room. The figure stepped into the moonlight and Pygmalion gasped at what he saw. The beauty of this woman was like nothing he had ever seen; it was as if her beauty itself was a fire consuming him from the inside out. He sat staring at the goddess before him, not having the breath to utter a single word.
“The women of the island have prayed for me to have you take a wife. In answer to their prayer, I will make this so, but you will chose the woman. Any woman on this island shall be yours, you need only say her name.”
Pygmalion swallowed…hard, “I have no desire for a wife.”
Aphrodite knelt down in front of him and looked deep into his eyes. As he looked into her eyes, he could actually see love, as if it were something tangible that he could reach out and touch. He could hear her voice again, but this time it was in his thoughts.
“You are being given a gift that no other man can say that he has had. You may chose any woman, and she will be yours.”
Pygmalion had an idea, “I will chose a wife. All that I ask is that I am allowed to complete one last statue. When it is complete, I shall make my choice.”
Aphrodite smiled, a smile that set Pygmalion’s heart on fire, “You may create your statue, I will return when it is complete.”
Aphrodite turned to leave, but Pygmalion stopped her, “I would ask that you pose for it. All things beautiful combined pale in comparison to your beauty. This statue would be the pinnacle of my career, the most beautiful thing created by mortal hands.”
Aphrodite was flattered; “I will pose for you. I will return every night at this time until the statue is complete.”
She knelt down and kissed Pygmalion’s forehead. He could feel her divine breath caressing him as gently as the hands of a lover. When he opened his eyes, Aphrodite was gone, and a single red rose lay on his pillow.
The next evening Aphrodite returned as she had promised, and the two of them set to work. Pygmalion began with clay, shaping it into miniature versions of the perfection sitting before him. Night after night, Aphrodite came, and more clay figurines were made. Soon there were one hundred figurines, each one as beautiful as the next. There seemed to be a piece of the goddess in every one of them; every arch or curve on each of the tiny bodies was perfect. Aphrodite was very pleased with all of the figurines. She went to Gaia and asked for the purest block of marble that existed in any part of the world, which was produced, and given to Pygmalion. It was placed in the centre of his house.
“You may now begin your masterpiece, Pygmalion.” Aphrodite whispered as her form faded from view, "I shall return when it is finished.”
With the goddess gone, Pygmalion picked up his mallet and chisel and began working. He began by forming a rough image of the statue by removing all of the unnecessary pieces. Then came the fine filing, sanding and polishing. The gods provided anything that he needed. The finest tools were given to him by Hepheastus, forged from the strongest alloys that existed so that they may never wear away. He worked all through the night, the hammer and mallet seeming to be extensions of his own limbs. Even though every muscle in his body ached, he continued to work. An entire week went by, during which Pygmalion only stopped to eat and sleep in brief intervals. The statue was finally done. He stood back to admire his work, and see areas that needed improvement. There were none; his work was flawless! He stood with his mouth agape, entranced by the beauty of the woman he had created. Her arms were extended, as if reaching out to hold another person that wasn’t there. Her lithe form was clad in nothing but her flowing mane of hair, which wrapped discreetly around her body. Pygmalion turned away from the statue, and there stood Aphrodite.
“It is truly beautiful Pygmalion. I am very pleased.” She smiled her smile again, and just seeing that was reward a thousand times over for the statue he had created. “Now it is time that you chose a wife.”
Pygmalion stepped forward; “I chose her, my creation, my Galatea.” He stepped up on the platform, and wrapped his arms around the statue. “I wish to be frozen in marble in her embrace for the rest of eternity. This woman…this beauty is the only thing that I shall ever be able to love. If I cannot have it in life, then I chose to join it and be a part of it.” Pygmalion wrapped his arms around the statue and pressed his lips against the lips of cold marble.
Aphrodite was touched by his words. She picked up the red rose that she had left on her first night in Pygmalion’s house, and placed it in the hair of the statue. Suddenly, the lips of the statue grew warm beneath his, and the stiff arms bent to embrace him. What was once cold, hard, unfeeling marble was now flesh and blood. Aphrodite had given him the love that he had chosen, thus fulfilling her promise.
“Your wish has been granted, Pygmalion. Before you stands your true love, a product of your work, your passion…a product of yourself. Treat each other well, and forever remember this gift I have given each of you.” And Aphrodite was gone.
Pygmalion stared at his new wife with eyes full of tears. She smiled back at him, that very same smile that had infatuated him long before. Galatea looked around the studio, which was a complete disaster from the week of work. She turned to Pygmalion, “Now my husband, let us see what I can do for you.”
