LX. I found that in the dark he quietly Had sacrificed some cows, and before light Had thrown the ashes all dispersedly About the road-then, still as gloomy night, Had crept into his cradle, either eye Rubbing, and cogitating some new sleight. LXI. "I taxed him with the fact, when he averred Most solemnly that he did neither see Nor even had in any manner heard Of my lost cows, whatever things cows be; Nor could he tell, though offered a reward, Not even who could tell of them to me." So speaking, Phoebus sat; and Hermes then Addressed the Supreme Lord of Gods and Men LXII. "Great Father, you know clearly beforehand That all which I shall say to you is sooth; I am a most veracious person, and Totally unacquainted with untruth. At sunrise Phoebus came, but with no band And saying that I must show him where they are, LXIII. "Or he would hurl me down the dark abyss. I know that every Apollonian limb Is clothed with speed and might and manliness, As a green bank with flowers-but unlike him I was born yesterday, and you may guess He well knew this when he indulged the whim Of bullying a poor little new-born thing That slept, and never thought of cow-driving. LXIV. "Am I like a strong fellow who steals kine? Sun and the gods, and I love you, and care LXV. "I swear by these most gloriously-wrought por tals, (It is, you will allow, an oath of might), Through which the multitude of the Immortals Pass and repass for ever, day and night, Devising schemes for the affairs of mortals— That I am guiltless; and I will requite, Although mine enemy be great and strong, His cruel threat-do thou defend the young!" LXVI. So speaking, the Cyllenian Argiphont Winked, as if now his adversary was fitted; And Jupiter, according to his wont, Laughed heartily to hear the subtle-witted Infant give such a plausible account, And every word a lie. But he remitted Judgment at present-and his exhortation Was, to compose the affair by arbitration. LXVII. And they by mighty Jupiter were bidden Is able to persuade all easily. LXVIII. These lovely children of Heaven's highest Lord Hastened to Pylos and the pastures wide And lofty stalls by the Alphean ford, Where wealth in the mute night is multiplied With silent growth. Whilst Hermes drove the herd Out of the stony cavern, Phoebus spied The hides of those the little babe had slain, Stretched on the precipice above the plain. LXIX. "How was it possible," then Phoebus said, "That you, a little child, born yesterday, A thing on mother's milk and kisses fed, Could two prodigious heifers ever flay? E'en I myself may well hereafter dread Your prowess, offspring of Cyllenian May, When you grow strong and tall."—He spoke, and bound Stiff withy bands the infant's wrists around. LXX. He might as well have bound the oxen wild; Loosened by some device of his quick wit. Phoebus perceived himself again beguiled, [or pit, And stared-while Hermes sought some hole Looking askance and winking fast as thought, Where he might hide himself, and not be caught. LXXI. Sudden he changed his plan, and with strange skill Subdued the strong Latonian, by the might Of winning music, to his mightier will; His left hand held the lyre, and in his right The plectrum struck the chords-unconquerable Up from beneath his hand in circling flight The gathering music rose-and sweet as love The penetrating notes did live and move LXXII. Within the heart of great Apollo-he Listened with all his soul, and laughed for pleasure. Close to his side stood harping fearlessly The unabashed boy; and to the measure Of the sweet lyre, there followed load and free His joyous voice; for he unlocked the treasure Of his deep song, illustrating the birth. Of the bright gods and the dark desert Earth: LXXIII. And how to the Immortals every one LXXIV. These words were winged with his swift delight: "You heifer-stealing schemer, well do you Deserve that fifty oxen should requite Such minstrelsies as I have heard even now. Comrade of feasts, little contriving wight, One of your secrets I would gladly know, Whether the glorious power you now show forth Was folded up within you at your birth, |