XLV. "An ox-stealer should be both tall and strong, Or, half asleep, hear my sweet mother sing, 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, 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, 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!" 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 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, LV. And from the folded depths of the great hill, 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. Under Cyllene's mountains far away; 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 The place from which they came-that asphodel I know not how I can describe in words 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. |