XLV.

"An ox-stealer should be both tall and strong,
And I am but a little new-born thing,
Who, yet at least, can think of nothing wrong.
My business is to suck, and sleep, and fling
The cradle clothes about me all day long;

Or, half asleep, hear my sweet mother sing,
And to be washed in water clean and warm,
And hushed and kissed and kept secure from harm.

XLVI.

"Oh, let not e'er this quarrel be averred! The astounded gods would laugh at you, if e'er You should allege a story so absurd

As that a new-born infant forth could fare Out of his home after a savage herd.

I was born yesterday-my small feet are Too tender for the roads so hard and rough; And if you think that this is not enough,

XLVII.

"I swear a great oath, by my father's head, That I stole not your cows, and that I know Of no one else who might, or could, or did.

Whatever things cows are I do not know, For I have only heard the name.”—This said,

He winked as fast as could be, and his brow Was wrinkled, and a whistle loud gave he, Like one who hears some strange absurdity.

XLVIII.

Apollo gently smiled and said "Ay, ay,
You cunning little rascal, you will bore
Many a rich man's house, and your array

Of thieves will lay their siege before his door, Silent as night, in night; and many a day

In the wild glens rough shepherds will deplore That you or yours, having an appetite, Met with their cattle, comrade of the night!

XLIX.

"And this among the gods shall be your gift,To be considered as the lord of those

Who swindle, house-break, sheep-steal, and shop

lift;

But now if you would not your

last sleep doze, Crawl out!"-Thus saying, Phoebus did uplift

The subtle infant in his swaddling-clothes,

And in his arms, according to his wont,
A scheme devised the illustrious Argiphont.

L.

And sneezed and shuddered-Phoebus on the grass Him threw, and whilst all that he had designed He did perform-eager although to pass,

Apollo darted from his mighty mind

Towards the subtle babe the following scoff: "Do not imagine this will get you off,

LI.

"You little swaddled child of Jove and May!"
And seized him:-"By this omen I shall trace
My noble herds, and you shall lead the way.”
Cyllenian Hermes from the grassy place,
Like one in earnest haste to get away,

Rose, and with hands lifted towards his face, Round both his ears up from his shoulders drew His swaddling-clothes, and-"What mean you to do

LII.

"With me, you unkind god?"—said Mercury: "Is it about these cows you tease me so? I wish the race of cows were perished !—I Stole not your cows: I do not even know What things cows are. Alas! I well may sigh,

That, since I came into this world of woe, I should have ever heard the name of oneBut I appeal to the Saturnian's throne."

LIII.

Thus Phoebus and the vagrant Mercury
Talked without coming to an explanation,
With adverse purpose. As for Phœbus, he
Sought not revenge, but only information,
And Hermes tried with lies and roguery

To cheat Apollo.-But when no evasion Served for the cunning one his match had found

He paced on first over the sandy ground.

LIV.

He of the Silver Bow, the child of Jove,
Followed behind, till to their heavenly sire
Came both his children-beautiful as Love,
And from his equal balance did require
A judgment in the cause wherein they strove.
O'er odorous Olympus and its snows
A murmuring tumult as they came arose ;

LV.

And from the folded depths of the great hill,
While Hermes and Apollo reverent stood
Before Jove's throne, the indestructible
Immortals rushed in mighty multitude;
And, whilst their seats in order due they fill,
The lofty Thunderer in a careless mood

To Phoebus said :-" Whence drive you this sweet

prey,

This herald-baby, born but yesterday?

LVI.

"A most important subject, trifler, this

To lay before the gods !"-"Nay, father,

nay,

When you have understood the business,

Say not that I alone am fond of prey.
I found this little boy in a recess

Under Cyllene's mountains far away;
A manifest and most apparent thief,
A scandal-monger beyond all belief.

LVII.

I never saw his like either in heaven Or upon earth for knavery or craft: Out of the field my cattle yester-even,

By the low shore on which the loud sea laughed, He right down to the river-ford had driven; And mere astonishment would make you daft To see the double kind of footsteps strange He has impressed wherever he did range.

LVIII.

"The cattle's track on the black dust full well
Is evident, as if they went towards

The place from which they came-that asphodel
Meadow, in which I feed my many herds;
His steps were most incomprehensible;

I know not how I can describe in words
Those tracks he could have gone along the sands
Neither upon his feet nor on his hands;

LIX.

"He must have had some other stranger mode

Of moving on those vestiges immense, Far as I traced them on the sandy road,

Seemed like the trail of oak-toppings:-but

thence

No mark nor track denoting where they trod

The hard ground gave :-but, working at his fence,

A mortal hedger saw him as he past

To Pylos, with the cows, in fiery haste.