Dallied in love not quite legitimate;
And his own birth, still scoffing at the scandal,
And naming his own name, did celebrate; 75
His mother’s cave and servant maids he planned all
In plastic verse, her household stuff and state,
Perennial pot, trippet, and brazen pan, —
But singing, he conceived another plan.
11.
…
Seized with a sudden fancy for fresh meat, 80
He in his sacred crib deposited
The hollow lyre, and from the cavern sweet
Rushed with great leaps up to the mountain’s head,
Revolving in his mind some subtle feat
Of thievish craft, such as a swindler might 85
Devise in the lone season of dun night.
12.
Lo! the great Sun under the ocean’s bed has
Driven steeds and chariot — the child meanwhile strode
O’er the Pierian mountains clothed in shadows,
Where the immortal oxen of the God 90
Are pastured in the flowering unmown meadows,
And safely stalled in a remote abode. —
The archer Argicide, elate and proud,
Drove fifty from the herd, lowing aloud.
13.
He drove them wandering o’er the sandy way, 95
But, being ever mindful of his craft,
Backward and forward drove he them astray,
So that the tracks which seemed before, were aft;
His sandals then he threw to the ocean spray,
And for each foot he wrought a kind of raft 100
Of tamarisk, and tamarisk-like sprigs,
And bound them in a lump with withy twigs.
14.
And on his feet he tied these sandals light,
The trail of whose wide leaves might not betray
His track; and then, a self-sufficing wight, 105
Like a man hastening on some distant way,
He from Pieria’s mountain bent his flight;
But an old man perceived the infant pass
Down green Onchestus heaped like beds with grass.
15.
The old man stood dressing his sunny vine: 110
‘Halloo! old fellow with the crooked shoulder!
You grub those stumps? before they will bear wine
Methinks even you must grow a little older:
Attend, I pray, to this advice of mine,
As you would ‘scape what might appal a bolder — 115
Seeing, see not — and hearing, hear not — and —
If you have understanding — understand.’
16.
So saying, Hermes roused the oxen vast;
O’er shadowy mountain and resounding dell,
And flower-paven plains, great Hermes passed; 120
Till the black night divine, which favouring fell
Around his steps, grew gray, and morning fast
Wakened the world to work, and from her cell
Sea-strewn, the Pallantean Moon sublime
Into her watch-tower just began to climb. 125
17.
Now to Alpheus he had driven all
The broad-foreheaded oxen of the Sun;
They came unwearied to the lofty stall
And to the water-troughs which ever run
Through the fresh fields — and when with rushgrass tall, 130
Lotus and all sweet herbage, every one
Had pastured been, the great God made them move
Towards the stall in a collected drove.
18.
A mighty pile of wood the God then heaped,
And having soon conceived the mystery 135
Of fire, from two smooth laurel branches stripped
The bark, and rubbed them in his palms; — on high
Suddenly forth the burning vapour leaped
And the divine child saw delightedly. —
Mercury first found out for human weal 140
Tinder-box, matches, fire-irons, flint and steel.
19.
And fine dry logs and roots innumerous
He gathered in a delve upon the ground —
And kindled them — and instantaneous
The strength of the fierce flame was breathed around: 145
And whilst the might of glorious Vulcan thus
Wrapped the great pile with glare and roaring sound,
Hermes dragged forth two heifers, lowing loud,
Close to the fire — such might was in the God.
20.
And on the earth upon their backs he threw 150
The panting beasts, and rolled them o’er and o’er,
And bored their lives out. Without more ado
He cut up fat and flesh, and down before
The fire, on spits of wood he placed the two,
Toasting their flesh and ribs, and all the gore 155
Pursed in the bowels; and while this was done
He stretched their hides over a craggy stone.
21.
We mortals let an ox grow old, and then
Cut it up after long consideration, —
But joyous-minded Hermes from the glen 160
Drew the fat spoils to the more open station
Of a flat smooth space, and portioned them; and when
He had by lot assigned to each a ration
Of the twelve Gods, his mind became aware
Of all the joys which in religion are. 165
22.
For the sweet savour of the roasted meat
Tempted him though immortal. Natheless
He checked his haughty will and did not eat,
Though what it cost him words can scarce express,
And every wish to put such morsels sweet 170
Down his most sacred throat, he did repress;
But soon within the lofty portalled stall
He placed the fat and flesh and bones and all.
23.
And every trace of the fresh butchery
And cooking, the God soon made disappear, 175
As if it all had vanished through the sky;
He burned the hoofs and horns and head and hair, —
The insatiate fire devoured them hungrily; —
And when he saw that everything was clear,
He quenched the coal, and trampled the black dust, 180
And in the stream his bloody sandals tossed.
24.
All night he worked in the serene moonshine —
But when the light of day was spread abroad
He sought his natal mountain-peaks divine.
On his long wandering, neither Man nor God 185
Had met him, since he killed Apollo’s kine,
Nor house-dog had barked at him on his road;
Now he obliquely through the keyhole passed,
Like a thin mist, or an autumnal blast.
25.
Right through the temple of the spacious cave 190
He went with soft light feet — as if his tread
Fell not on earth; no sound their falling gave;
Then to his cradle he crept quick, and spread
The swaddling-clothes about him; and the knave
Lay playing with the covering of the bed 195
With his left hand about his knees — the right
Held his beloved tortoise-lyre tight.
26.
There he lay innocent as a new-born child,
As gossips say; but though he was a God,
The Goddess, his fair mother, unbeguiled, 200
Knew all that he had done being abroad:
‘Whence come you, and from what adventure wild,
You cunning rogue, and where have you abode
All the long night, clothed in your impudence?
What have you done since you departed hence? 205
27.
‘Apollo soon will pass with
in this gate
And bind your tender body in a chain
Inextricably tight, and fast as fate,
Unless you can delude the God again,
Even when within his arms — ah, runagate! 210
A pretty torment both for Gods and Men
Your father made when he made you!’—’Dear mother,’
Replied sly Hermes, ‘wherefore scold and bother?
28.
‘As if I were like other babes as old,
And understood nothing of what is what; 215
And cared at all to hear my mother scold.
I in my subtle brain a scheme have got,
Which whilst the sacred stars round Heaven are rolled
Will profit you and me — nor shall our lot
Be as you counsel, without gifts or food, 220
To spend our lives in this obscure abode.
29
‘But we will leave this shadow-peopled cave
And live among the Gods, and pass each day
In high communion, sharing what they have
Of profuse wealth and unexhausted prey; 225
And from the portion which my father gave
To Phoebus, I will snatch my share away,
Which if my father will not — natheless I,
Who am the king of robbers, can but try.
30.
‘And, if Latona’s son should find me out, 230
I’ll countermine him by a deeper plan;
I’ll pierce the Pythian temple-walls, though stout,
And sack the fane of everything I can —
Caldrons and tripods of great worth no doubt,
Each golden cup and polished brazen pan, 235
All the wrought tapestries and garments gay.’ —
So they together talked; — meanwhile the Day
31.
Aethereal born arose out of the flood
Of flowing Ocean, bearing light to men.
Apollo passed toward the sacred wood, 240
Which from the inmost depths of its green glen
Echoes the voice of Neptune, — and there stood
On the same spot in green Onchestus then
That same old animal, the vine-dresser,
Who was employed hedging his vineyard there. 245
32.
Latona’s glorious Son began:—’I pray
Tell, ancient hedger of Onchestus green,
Whether a drove of kine has passed this way,
All heifers with crooked horns? for they have been
Stolen from the herd in high Pieria, 250
Where a black bull was fed apart, between
Two woody mountains in a neighbouring glen,
And four fierce dogs watched there, unanimous as men.
33.
‘And what is strange, the author of this theft
Has stolen the fatted heifers every one, 255
But the four dogs and the black bull are left: —
Stolen they were last night at set of sun,
Of their soft beds and their sweet food bereft. —
Now tell me, man born ere the world begun,
Have you seen any one pass with the cows?’ — 260
To whom the man of overhanging brows:
34.
‘My friend, it would require no common skill
Justly to speak of everything I see:
On various purposes of good or ill
Many pass by my vineyard, — and to me 265
‘Tis difficult to know the invisible
Thoughts, which in all those many minds may be: —
Thus much alone I certainly can say,
I tilled these vines till the decline of day,
35.
‘And then I thought I saw, but dare not speak 270
With certainty of such a wondrous thing,
A child, who could not have been born a week,
Those fair-horned cattle closely following,
And in his hand he held a polished stick:
And, as on purpose, he walked wavering 275
From one side to the other of the road,
And with his face opposed the steps he trod.’
36.
Apollo hearing this, passed quickly on —
No winged omen could have shown more clear
That the deceiver was his father’s son. 280
So the God wraps a purple atmosphere
Around his shoulders, and like fire is gone
To famous Pylos, seeking his kine there,
And found their track and his, yet hardly cold,
And cried—’What wonder do mine eyes behold! 285
37.
‘Here are the footsteps of the horned herd
Turned back towards their fields of asphodel; —
But THESE are not the tracks of beast or bird,
Gray wolf, or bear, or lion of the dell,
Or maned Centaur — sand was never stirred 290
By man or woman thus! Inexplicable!
Who with unwearied feet could e’er impress
The sand with such enormous vestiges?
38.
‘That was most strange — but this is stranger still!’
Thus having said, Phoebus impetuously 295
Sought high Cyllene’s forest-cinctured hill,
And the deep cavern where dark shadows lie,
And where the ambrosial nymph with happy will
Bore the Saturnian’s love-child, Mercury —
And a delightful odour from the dew 300
Of the hill pastures, at his coming, flew.
39.
And Phoebus stooped under the craggy roof
Arched over the dark cavern: — Maia’s child
Perceived that he came angry, far aloof,
About the cows of which he had been beguiled; 305
And over him the fine and fragrant woof
Of his ambrosial swaddling-clothes he piled —
As among fire-brands lies a burning spark
Covered, beneath the ashes cold and dark.
40.
There, like an infant who had sucked his fill 310
And now was newly washed and put to bed,
Awake, but courting sleep with weary will,
And gathered in a lump, hands, feet, and head,
He lay, and his beloved tortoise still
He grasped and held under his shoulder-blade. 315
Not less her subtle, swindling baby, who
41.
Lay swathed in his sly wiles. Round every crook
Of the ample cavern, for his kine, Apollo
Looked sharp; and when he saw them not, he took 320
The glittering key, and opened three great hollow
Recesses in the rock — where many a nook
Was filled with the sweet food immortals swallow,
And mighty heaps of silver and of gold
Were piled within — a wonder to behold! 325
42.
And white and silver robes, all overwrought
With cunning workmanship of tracery sweet —
Except among the Gods there can be nought
In the wide world to be compared with it.
Latona’s offspring, after having sought 330
His herds in every corner, thus did greet
Great Hermes:—’Little cradled rogue, declare
Of my illustrious heifers, where they are!
43.
‘Speak quickly! or a quarrel between us
Must rise, and the event will be, that I 335
Shall hurl you into dismal Tartarus,
In fiery gloom to dwell eternally;
Nor shall your father nor your mother loose
The bars of that black dungeon — utterly
You shall be cast out from the light of day, 340
To rule the ghosts of men, unblessed as they.
44.
To whom thu
s Hermes slily answered:—’Son
Of great Latona, what a speech is this!
Why come you here to ask me what is done
With the wild oxen which it seems you miss? 345
I have not seen them, nor from any one
Have heard a word of the whole business;
If you should promise an immense reward,
I could not tell more than you now have heard.
45.
‘An ox-stealer should be both tall and strong, 350
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, 355
And to be washed in water clean and warm,
And hushed and kissed and kept secure from harm.
46.
‘O, 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 360
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, 365
47.
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 370
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.
48.
Apollo gently smiled and said:—’Ay, ay, —
You cunning little rascal, you will bore 375
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, 380
Met with their cattle, comrade of the night!
49.
‘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; 385
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.
50.
…
…
And sneezed and shuddered — Phoebus on the grass 390
Him threw, and whilst all that he had designed
He did perform — eager although to pass,
Apollo darted from his mighty mind