_Heph_. What are your orders, Zeus? You sent for me, and here I am;
with such an edge to my axe as would cleave a stone at one blow.
_Zeus_. Ah; that's right, Hephaestus. Just split my head in half, will
you?
_Heph_. You think I am mad, perhaps?—Seriously, now, what can I do for
you?
_Zeus_. What I say: crack my skull. Any insubordination, now, and you
shall taste my resentment; it will not be the first time. Come, a good
lusty stroke, and quick about it. I am in the pangs of travail; my
brain is in a whirl.
_Heph_. Mind you, the consequences may be serious: the axe is sharp,
and will prove but a rough midwife.
_Zeus_. Hew away, and fear nothing. I know what I am about.
_Heph_. H'm. I don't like it: however, one must obey orders…. Why, what
have we here? A maiden in full armour! This is no joke, Zeus. You might
well be waspish, with this great girl growing up beneath your _pia
mater_; in armour, too! You have been carrying a regular barracks on
your shoulders all this time. So active too! See, she is dancing a
war-dance, with shield and spear in full swing. She is like one
inspired; and (what is more to the point) she is extremely pretty, and
has come to marriageable years in these few minutes; those grey eyes,
even, look well beneath a helmet. Zeus, I claim her as the fee for my
midwifery.
_Zeus_. Impossible! She is determined to remain a maid for ever. Not
that _I_ have any objection, personally.
_Heph_. That is all I want. You can leave the rest to me. I'll carry
her off this moment.
_Zeus_. Well, if you think it so easy. But I am sure it is a hopeless
case.