(ll. 1-29) Muse, sing of Hermes, the son of Zeus and Maia, lord of
Cyllene and Arcadia rich in flocks, the luck-bringing messenger of the
immortals whom Maia bare, the rich-tressed nymph, when she was joined
in love with Zeus,—a shy goddess, for she avoided the company of the
blessed gods, and lived within a deep, shady cave. There the son of
Cronos used to lie with the rich-tressed nymph, unseen by deathless
gods and mortal men, at dead of night while sweet sleep should hold
white-armed Hera fast. And when the purpose of great Zeus was fixed in
heaven, she was delivered and a notable thing was come to pass. For
then she bare a son, of many shifts, blandly cunning, a robber, a
cattle driver, a bringer of dreams, a watcher by night, a thief at the
gates, one who was soon to show forth wonderful deeds among the
deathless gods. Born with the dawning, at mid-day he played on the
lyre, and in the evening he stole the cattle of far-shooting Apollo on
the fourth day of the month; for on that day queenly Maia bare him. So
soon as he had leaped from his mother’s heavenly womb, he lay not long
waiting in his holy cradle, but he sprang up and sought the oxen of
Apollo. But as he stepped over the threshold of the high-roofed cave,
he found a tortoise there and gained endless delight. For it was Hermes
who first made the tortoise a singer. The creature fell in his way at
the courtyard gate, where it was feeding on the rich grass before the
dwelling, waddling along. When he saw it, the luck-bringing son of Zeus
laughed and said:
(ll. 30-38) ‘An omen of great luck for me so soon! I do not slight it.
Hail, comrade of the feast, lovely in shape, sounding at the dance!
With joy I meet you! Where got you that rich gaud for covering, that
spangled shell—a tortoise living in the mountains? But I will take and
carry you within: you shall help me and I will do you no disgrace,
though first of all you must profit me. It is better to be at home:
harm may come out of doors. Living, you shall be a spell against
mischievous witchcraft 2513; but if you die, then you shall make
sweetest song.
(ll. 39-61) Thus speaking, he took up the tortoise in both hands and
went back into the house carrying his charming toy. Then he cut off its
limbs and scooped out the marrow of the mountain-tortoise with a scoop
of grey iron. As a swift thought darts through the heart of a man when
thronging cares haunt him, or as bright glances flash from the eye, so
glorious Hermes planned both thought and deed at once. He cut stalks of
reed to measure and fixed them, fastening their ends across the back
and through the shell of the tortoise, and then stretched ox hide all
over it by his skill. Also he put in the horns and fitted a cross-piece
upon the two of them, and stretched seven strings of sheep-gut. But
when he had made it he proved each string in turn with the key, as he
held the lovely thing. At the touch of his hand it sounded
marvellously; and, as he tried it, the god sang sweet random snatches,
even as youths bandy taunts at festivals. He sang of Zeus the son of
Cronos and neat-shod Maia, the converse which they had before in the
comradeship of love, telling all the glorious tale of his own
begetting. He celebrated, too, the handmaids of the nymph, and her
bright home, and the tripods all about the house, and the abundant
cauldrons.
(ll. 62-67) But while he was singing of all these, his heart was bent
on other matters. And he took the hollow lyre and laid it in his sacred
cradle, and sprang from the sweet-smelling hall to a watch-place,
pondering sheer trickery in his heart—deeds such as knavish folk pursue
in the dark night-time; for he longed to taste flesh.
(ll. 68-86) The Sun was going down beneath the earth towards Ocean with
his horses and chariot when Hermes came hurrying to the shadowy
mountains of Pieria, where the divine cattle of the blessed gods had
their steads and grazed the pleasant, unmown meadows. Of these the Son
of Maia, the sharp-eyed slayer of Argus then cut off from the herd
fifty loud-lowing kine, and drove them straggling-wise across a sandy
place, turning their hoof-prints aside. Also, he bethought him of a
crafty ruse and reversed the marks of their hoofs, making the front
behind and the hind before, while he himself walked the other way 2514.
Then he wove sandals with wicker-work by the sand of the sea, wonderful
things, unthought of, unimagined; for he mixed together tamarisk and
myrtle-twigs, fastening together an armful of their fresh, young wood,
and tied them, leaves and all securely under his feet as light sandals.
The brushwood the glorious Slayer of Argus plucked in Pieria as he was
preparing for his journey, making shift 2515 as one making haste for a
long journey.
(ll. 87-89) But an old man tilling his flowering vineyard saw him as he
was hurrying down the plain through grassy Onchestus. So the Son of
Maia began and said to him:
(ll. 90-93) ‘Old man, digging about your vines with bowed shoulders,
surely you shall have much wine when all these bear fruit, if you obey
me and strictly remember not to have seen what you have seen, and not
to have heard what you have heard, and to keep silent when nothing of
your own is harmed.’
(ll. 94-114) When he had said this much, he hurried the strong cattle
on together: through many shadowy mountains and echoing gorges and
flowery plains glorious Hermes drove them. And now the divine night,
his dark ally, was mostly passed, and dawn that sets folk to work was
quickly coming on, while bright Selene, daughter of the lord Pallas,
Megamedes’ son, had just climbed her watch-post, when the strong Son of
Zeus drove the wide-browed cattle of Phoebus Apollo to the river
Alpheus. And they came unwearied to the high-roofed byres and the
drinking-troughs that were before the noble meadow. Then, after he had
well-fed the loud-bellowing cattle with fodder and driven them into the
byre, close-packed and chewing lotus and began to seek the art of fire.
He chose a stout laurel branch and trimmed it with the knife....
((LACUNA)) 2516 ....held firmly in his hand: and the hot smoke rose up.
For it was Hermes who first invented fire-sticks and fire. Next he took
many dried sticks and piled them thick and plenty in a sunken trench:
and flame began to glow, spreading afar the blast of fierce-burning
fire.
(ll. 115-137) And while the strength of glorious Hephaestus was
beginning to kindle the fire, he dragged out two lowing, horned cows
close to the fire; for great strength was with him. He threw them both
panting upon their backs on the ground, and rolled them on their sides,
bending their necks over 2517, and pierced their vital chord. Then he
went on from task to task: first he cut up the rich, fatted meat, and
pierced it with wooden spits, and roasted flesh and the honourable
chine and the paunch full of dark blood all together. He laid them
there upon the ground, and spread out the hides on a rugged rock: and
so they are still there many ages afterwards, a long, long time after
all this, and are continually 2518. Next glad-hearted Hermes dragged
the rich meats he had prepared and put them on a smooth, flat stone,
and divided them into twelve portions distributed by lot, making each
portion wholly honourable. Then glorious Hermes longed for the
sacrificial meat, for the sweet savour wearied him, god though he was;
nevertheless his proud heart was not prevailed upon to devour the
flesh, although he greatly desired 2519. But he put away the fat and
all the flesh in the high-roofed byre, placing them high up to be a
token of his youthful theft. And after that he gathered dry sticks and
utterly destroyed with fire all the hoofs and all the heads.
(ll. 138-154) And when the god had duly finished all, he threw his
sandals into deep-eddying Alpheus, and quenched the embers, covering
the black ashes with sand, and so spent the night while Selene’s soft
light shone down. Then the god went straight back again at dawn to the
bright crests of Cyllene, and no one met him on the long journey either
of the blessed gods or mortal men, nor did any dog bark. And
luck-bringing Hermes, the son of Zeus, passed edgeways through the
key-hole of the hall like the autumn breeze, even as mist: straight
through the cave he went and came to the rich inner chamber, walking
softly, and making no noise as one might upon the floor. Then glorious
Hermes went hurriedly to his cradle, wrapping his swaddling clothes
about his shoulders as though he were a feeble babe, and lay playing
with the covering about his knees; but at his left hand he kept close
his sweet lyre.
(ll. 155-161) But the god did not pass unseen by the goddess his
mother; but she said to him: ‘How now, you rogue! Whence come you back
so at night-time, you that wear shamelessness as a garment? And now I
surely believe the son of Leto will soon have you forth out of doors
with unbreakable cords about your ribs, or you will live a rogue’s life
in the glens robbing by whiles. Go to, then; your father got you to be
a great worry to mortal men and deathless gods.’
(ll. 162-181) Then Hermes answered her with crafty words: ‘Mother, why
do you seek to frighten me like a feeble child whose heart knows few
words of blame, a fearful babe that fears its mother’s scolding? Nay,
but I will try whatever plan is best, and so feed myself and you
continually. We will not be content to remain here, as you bid, alone
of all the gods unfee’d with offerings and prayers. Better to live in
fellowship with the deathless gods continually, rich, wealthy, and
enjoying stories of grain, than to sit always in a gloomy cave: and, as
regards honour, I too will enter upon the rite that Apollo has. If my
father will not give it to me, I will seek—and I am able—to be a prince
of robbers. And if Leto’s most glorious son shall seek me out, I think
another and a greater loss will befall him. For I will go to Pytho to
break into his great house, and will plunder therefrom splendid
tripods, and cauldrons, and gold, and plenty of bright iron, and much
apparel; and you shall see it if you will.’
(ll. 182-189) With such words they spoke together, the son of Zeus who
holds the aegis, and the lady Maia. Now Eros the early born was rising
from deep-flowing Ocean, bringing light to men, when Apollo, as he
went, came to Onchestus, the lovely grove and sacred place of the
loud-roaring Holder of the Earth. There he found an old man grazing his
beast along the pathway from his court-yard fence, and the all-glorious
Son of Leto began and said to him.
(ll. 190-200) ‘Old man, weeder 2520 of grassy Onchestus, I am come here
from Pieria seeking cattle, cows all of them, all with curving horns,
from my herd. The black bull was grazing alone away from the rest, but
fierce-eyed hounds followed the cows, four of them, all of one mind,
like men. These were left behind, the dogs and the bull—which is great
marvel; but the cows strayed out of the soft meadow, away from the
pasture when the sun was just going down. Now tell me this, old man
born long ago: have you seen one passing along behind those cows?’
(ll. 201-211) Then the old man answered him and said: ‘My son, it is
hard to tell all that one’s eyes see; for many wayfarers pass to and
fro this way, some bent on much evil, and some on good: it is difficult
to know each one. However, I was digging about my plot of vineyard all
day long until the sun went down, and I thought, good sir, but I do not
know for certain, that I marked a child, whoever the child was, that
followed long-horned cattle—an infant who had a staff and kept walking
from side to side: he was driving them backwards way, with their heads
toward him.’
(ll. 212-218) So said the old man. And when Apollo heard this report,
he went yet more quickly on his way, and presently, seeing a
long-winged bird, he knew at once by that omen that thief was the child
of Zeus the son of Cronos. So the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, hurried on
to goodly Pylos seeking his shambling oxen, and he had his broad
shoulders covered with a dark cloud. But when the Far-Shooter perceived
the tracks, he cried:
(ll. 219-226) ‘Oh, oh! Truly this is a great marvel that my eyes
behold! These are indeed the tracks of straight-horned oxen, but they
are turned backwards towards the flowery meadow. But these others are
not the footprints of man or woman or grey wolves or bears or lions,
nor do I think they are the tracks of a rough-maned Centaur—whoever it
be that with swift feet makes such monstrous footprints; wonderful are
the tracks on this side of the way, but yet more wonderfully are those
on that.’
(ll. 227-234) When he had so said, the lord Apollo, the Son of Zeus
hastened on and came to the forest-clad mountain of Cyllene and the
deep-shadowed cave in the rock where the divine nymph brought forth the
child of Zeus who is the son of Cronos. A sweet odour spread over the
lovely hill, and many thin-shanked sheep were grazing on the grass.
Then far-shooting Apollo himself stepped down in haste over the stone
threshold into the dusky cave.
(ll. 235-253) Now when the Son of Zeus and Maia saw Apollo in a rage
about his cattle, he snuggled down in his fragrant swaddling-clothes;
and as wood-ash covers over the deep embers of tree-stumps, so Hermes
cuddled himself up when he saw the Far-Shooter. He squeezed head and
hands and feet together in a small space, like a new born child seeking
sweet sleep, though in truth he was wide awake, and he kept his lyre
under his armpit. But the Son of Leto was aware and failed not to
perceive the beautiful mountain-nymph and her dear son, albeit a little
child and swathed so craftily. He peered in every corner of the great
dwelling and, taking a bright key, he opened three closets full of
nectar and lovely ambrosia. And much gold and silver was stored in
them, and many garments of the nymph, some purple and some silvery
white, such as are kept in the sacred houses of the blessed gods. Then,
after the Son of Leto had searched out the recesses of the great house,
he spake to glorious Hermes:
(ll. 254-259) ‘Child, lying in the cradle, make haste and tell me of my
cattle, or we two will soon fall out angrily. For I will take and cast
you into dusty Tartarus and awful hopeless darkness, and neither your
mother nor your father shall free you or bring you up again to the
light, but you will wander under the earth and be the leader amongst
little folk.’ 2521
(ll. 260-277) Then Hermes answered him with crafty words: ‘Son of Leto,
what harsh words are these you have spoken? And is it cattle of the
field you are come here to seek? I have not seen them: I have not heard
of them: no one has told me of them. I cannot give news of them, nor
win the reward for news. Am I like a cattle-lifter, a stalwart person?
This is no task for me: rather I care for other things: I care for
sleep, and milk of my mother’s breast, and wrappings round my
shoulders, and warm baths. Let no one hear the cause of this dispute;
for this would be a great marvel indeed among the deathless gods, that
a child newly born should pass in through the forepart of the house
with cattle of the field: herein you speak extravagantly. I was born
yesterday, and my feet are soft and the ground beneath is rough;
nevertheless, if you will have it so, I will swear a great oath by my
father’s head and vow that neither am I guilty myself, neither have I
seen any other who stole your cows—whatever cows may be; for I know
them only by hearsay.’
(ll. 278-280) So, then, said Hermes, shooting quick glances from his
eyes: and he kept raising his brows and looking this way and that,
whistling long and listening to Apollo’s story as to an idle tale.
(ll. 281-292) But far-working Apollo laughed softly and said to him: ‘O
rogue, deceiver, crafty in heart, you talk so innocently that I most
surely believe that you have broken into many a well-built house and
stripped more than one poor wretch bare this night 2522, gathering his
goods together all over the house without noise. You will plague many a
lonely herdsman in mountain glades, when you come on herds and
thick-fleeced sheep, and have a hankering after flesh. But come now, if
you would not sleep your last and latest sleep, get out of your cradle,
you comrade of dark night. Surely hereafter this shall be your title
amongst the deathless gods, to be called the prince of robbers
continually.’
(ll. 293-300) So said Phoebus Apollo, and took the child and began to
carry him. But at that moment the strong Slayer of Argus had his plan,
and, while Apollo held him in his hands, sent forth an omen, a
hard-worked belly-serf, a rude messenger, and sneezed directly after.
And when Apollo heard it, he dropped glorious Hermes out of his hands
on the ground: then sitting down before him, though he was eager to go
on his way, he spoke mockingly to Hermes:
(ll. 301-303) ‘Fear not, little swaddling baby, son of Zeus and Maia. I
shall find the strong cattle presently by these omens, and you shall
lead the way.’
(ll. 304-306) When Apollo had so said, Cyllenian Hermes sprang up
quickly, starting in haste. With both hands he pushed up to his ears
the covering that he had wrapped about his shoulders, and said:
(ll. 307-312) ‘Where are you carrying me, Far-Worker, hastiest of all
the gods? Is it because of your cattle that you are so angry and harass
me? O dear, would that all the sort of oxen might perish; for it is not
I who stole your cows, nor did I see another steal them—whatever cows
may be, and of that I have only heard report. Nay, give right and take
it before Zeus, the Son of Cronos.’
(ll. 313-326) So Hermes the shepherd and Leto’s glorious son kept
stubbornly disputing each article of their quarrel: Apollo, speaking
truly.... ((LACUNA)) ....not fairly sought to seize glorious Hermes
because of the cows; but he, the Cyllenian, tried to deceive the God of
the Silver Bow with tricks and cunning words. But when, though he had
many wiles, he found the other had as many shifts, he began to walk
across the sand, himself in front, while the Son of Zeus and Leto came
behind. Soon they came, these lovely children of Zeus, to the top of
fragrant Olympus, to their father, the Son of Cronos; for there were
the scales of judgement set for them both.
There was an assembly on snowy Olympus, and the immortals who perish
not were gathering after the hour of gold-throned Dawn.
(ll. 327-329) Then Hermes and Apollo of the Silver Bow stood at the
knees of Zeus: and Zeus who thunders on high spoke to his glorious son
and asked him:
(ll. 330-332) ‘Phoebus, whence come you driving this great spoil, a
child new born that has the look of a herald? This is a weighty matter
that is come before the council of the gods.’
(ll. 333-364) Then the lord, far-working Apollo, answered him: ‘O my
father, you shall soon hear no trifling tale though you reproach me
that I alone am fond of spoil. Here is a child, a burgling robber, whom
I found after a long journey in the hills of Cyllene: for my part I
have never seen one so pert either among the gods or all men that catch
folk unawares throughout the world. He stole away my cows from their
meadow and drove them off in the evening along the shore of the
loud-roaring sea, making straight for Pylos. There were double tracks,
and wonderful they were, such as one might marvel at, the doing of a
clever sprite; for as for the cows, the dark dust kept and showed their
footprints leading towards the flowery meadow; but he
himself—bewildering creature—crossed the sandy ground outside the path,
not on his feet nor yet on his hands; but, furnished with some other
means he trudged his way—wonder of wonders!—as though one walked on
slender oak-trees. Now while he followed the cattle across sandy
ground, all the tracks showed quite clearly in the dust; but when he
had finished the long way across the sand, presently the cows’ track
and his own could not be traced over the hard ground. But a mortal man
noticed him as he drove the wide-browed kine straight towards Pylos.
And as soon as he had shut them up quietly, and had gone home by crafty
turns and twists, he lay down in his cradle in the gloom of a dim cave,
as still as dark night, so that not even an eagle keenly gazing would
have spied him. Much he rubbed his eyes with his hands as he prepared
falsehood, and himself straightway said roundly: “I have not seen them:
I have not heard of them: no man has told me of them. I could not tell
you of them, nor win the reward of telling.”’
(ll. 365-367) When he had so spoken, Phoebus Apollo sat down. But
Hermes on his part answered and said, pointing at the Son of Cronos,
the lord of all the gods:
(ll. 368-386) ‘Zeus, my father, indeed I will speak truth to you; for I
am truthful and I cannot tell a lie. He came to our house to-day
looking for his shambling cows, as the sun was newly rising. He brought
no witnesses with him nor any of the blessed gods who had seen the
theft, but with great violence ordered me to confess, threatening much
to throw me into wide Tartarus. For he has the rich bloom of glorious
youth, while I was born but yesterday—as he too knows—nor am I like a
cattle-lifter, a sturdy fellow. Believe my tale (for you claim to be my
own father), that I did not drive his cows to my house—so may I
prosper—nor crossed the threshold: this I say truly. I reverence Helios
greatly and the other gods, and you I love and him I dread. You
yourself know that I am not guilty: and I will swear a great oath upon
it:—No! by these rich-decked porticoes of the gods. And some day I will
punish him, strong as he is, for this pitiless inquisition; but now do
you help the younger.’
(ll. 387-396) So spake the Cyllenian, the Slayer of Argus, while he
kept shooting sidelong glances and kept his swaddling-clothes upon his
arm, and did not cast them away. But Zeus laughed out loud to see his
evil-plotting child well and cunningly denying guilt about the cattle.
And he bade them both to be of one mind and search for the cattle, and
guiding Hermes to lead the way and, without mischievousness of heart,
to show the place where now he had hidden the strong cattle. Then the
Son of Cronos bowed his head: and goodly Hermes obeyed him; for the
will of Zeus who holds the aegis easily prevailed with him.
(ll. 397-404) Then the two all-glorious children of Zeus hastened both
to sandy Pylos, and reached the ford of Alpheus, and came to the fields
and the high-roofed byre where the beasts were cherished at night-time.
Now while Hermes went to the cave in the rock and began to drive out
the strong cattle, the son of Leto, looking aside, saw the cowhides on
the sheer rock. And he asked glorious Hermes at once:
(ll. 405-408) ‘How were you able, you crafty rogue, to flay two cows,
new-born and babyish as you are? For my part, I dread the strength that
will be yours: there is no need you should keep growing long,
Cyllenian, son of Maia!’
(ll. 409-414) So saying, Apollo twisted strong withes with his hands
meaning to bind Hermes with firm bands; but the bands would not hold
him, and the withes of osier fell far from him and began to grow at
once from the ground beneath their feet in that very place. And
intertwining with one another, they quickly grew and covered all the
wild-roving cattle by the will of thievish Hermes, so that Apollo was
astonished as he gazed.
(ll. 414-435) Then the strong slayer of Argus looked furtively upon the
ground with eyes flashing fire.... desiring to hide.... ((LACUNA))
....Very easily he softened the son of all-glorious Leto as he would,
stern though the Far-shooter was. He took the lyre upon his left arm
and tried each string in turn with the key, so that it sounded
awesomely at his touch. And Phoebus Apollo laughed for joy; for the
sweet throb of the marvellous music went to his heart, and a soft
longing took hold on his soul as he listened. Then the son of Maia,
harping sweetly upon his lyre, took courage and stood at the left hand
of Phoebus Apollo; and soon, while he played shrilly on his lyre, he
lifted up his voice and sang, and lovely was the sound of his voice
that followed. He sang the story of the deathless gods and of the dark
earth, how at the first they came to be, and how each one received his
portion. First among the gods he honoured Mnemosyne, mother of the
Muses, in his song; for the son of Maia was of her following. And next
the goodly son of Zeus hymned the rest of the immortals according to
their order in age, and told how each was born, mentioning all in order
as he struck the lyre upon his arm. But Apollo was seized with a
longing not to be allayed, and he opened his mouth and spoke winged
words to Hermes:
(ll. 436-462) ‘Slayer of oxen, trickster, busy one, comrade of the
feast, this song of yours is worth fifty cows, and I believe that
presently we shall settle our quarrel peacefully. But come now, tell me
this, resourceful son of Maia: has this marvellous thing been with you
from your birth, or did some god or mortal man give it you—a noble
gift—and teach you heavenly song? For wonderful is this new-uttered
sound I hear, the like of which I vow that no man nor god dwelling on
Olympus ever yet has known but you, O thievish son of Maia. What skill
is this? What song for desperate cares? What way of song? For verily
here are three things to hand all at once from which to choose,—mirth,
and love, and sweet sleep. And though I am a follower of the Olympian
Muses who love dances and the bright path of song—the full-toned chant
and ravishing thrill of flutes—yet I never cared for any of those feats
of skill at young men’s revels, as I do now for this: I am filled with
wonder, O son of Zeus, at your sweet playing. But now, since you,
though little, have such glorious skill, sit down, dear boy, and
respect the words of your elders. For now you shall have renown among
the deathless gods, you and your mother also. This I will declare to
you exactly: by this shaft of cornel wood I will surely make you a
leader renowned among the deathless gods, and fortunate, and will give
you glorious gifts and will not deceive you from first to last.’
(ll. 463-495) Then Hermes answered him with artful words: ‘You question
me carefully, O Far-worker; yet I am not jealous that you should enter
upon my art: this day you shall know it. For I seek to be friendly with
you both in thought and word. Now you well know all things in your
heart, since you sit foremost among the deathless gods, O son of Zeus,
and are goodly and strong. And wise Zeus loves you as all right is, and
has given you splendid gifts. And they say that from the utterance of
Zeus you have learned both the honours due to the gods, O Far-worker,
and oracles from Zeus, even all his ordinances. Of all these I myself
have already learned that you have great wealth. Now, you are free to
learn whatever you please; but since, as it seems, your heart is so
strongly set on playing the lyre, chant, and play upon it, and give
yourself to merriment, taking this as a gift from me, and do you, my
friend, bestow glory on me. Sing well with this clear-voiced companion
in your hands; for you are skilled in good, well-ordered utterance.
From now on bring it confidently to the rich feast and lovely dance and
glorious revel, a joy by night and by day. Whoso with wit and wisdom
enquires of it cunningly, him it teaches through its sound all manner
of things that delight the mind, being easily played with gentle
familiarities, for it abhors toilsome drudgery; but whoso in ignorance
enquires of it violently, to him it chatters mere vanity and
foolishness. But you are able to learn whatever you please. So then, I
will give you this lyre, glorious son of Zeus, while I for my part will
graze down with wild-roving cattle the pastures on hill and
horse-feeding plain: so shall the cows covered by the bulls calve
abundantly both males and females. And now there is no need for you,
bargainer though you are, to be furiously angry.’
(ll. 496-502) When Hermes had said this, he held out the lyre: and
Phoebus Apollo took it, and readily put his shining whip in Hermes’
hand, and ordained him keeper of herds. The son of Maia received it
joyfully, while the glorious son of Leto, the lord far-working Apollo,
took the lyre upon his left arm and tried each string with the key.
Awesomely it sounded at the touch of the god, while he sang sweetly to
its note.
(ll. 503-512) Afterwards they two, the all-glorious sons of Zeus turned
the cows back towards the sacred meadow, but themselves hastened back
to snowy Olympus, delighting in the lyre. Then wise Zeus was glad and
made them both friends. And Hermes loved the son of Leto continually,
even as he does now, when he had given the lyre as token to the
Far-shooter, who played it skilfully, holding it upon his arm. But for
himself Hermes found out another cunning art and made himself the pipes
whose sound is heard afar.
(ll. 513-520) Then the son of Leto said to Hermes: ‘Son of Maia, guide
and cunning one, I fear you may steal form me the lyre and my curved
bow together; for you have an office from Zeus, to establish deeds of
barter amongst men throughout the fruitful earth. Now if you would only
swear me the great oath of the gods, either by nodding your head, or by
the potent water of Styx, you would do all that can please and ease my
heart.’
(ll. 521-549) Then Maia’s son nodded his head and promised that he
would never steal anything of all the Far-shooter possessed, and would
never go near his strong house; but Apollo, son of Leto, swore to be
fellow and friend to Hermes, vowing that he would love no other among
the immortals, neither god nor man sprung from Zeus, better than
Hermes: and the Father sent forth an eagle in confirmation. And Apollo
sware also: ‘Verily I will make you only to be an omen for the
immortals and all alike, trusted and honoured by my heart. Moreover, I
will give you a splendid staff of riches and wealth: it is of gold,
with three branches, and will keep you scatheless, accomplishing every
task, whether of words or deeds that are good, which I claim to know
through the utterance of Zeus. But as for sooth-saying, noble,
heaven-born child, of which you ask, it is not lawful for you to learn
it, nor for any other of the deathless gods: only the mind of Zeus
knows that. I am pledged and have vowed and sworn a strong oath that no
other of the eternal gods save I should know the wise-hearted counsel
of Zeus. And do not you, my brother, bearer of the golden wand, bid me
tell those decrees which all-seeing Zeus intends. As for men, I will
harm one and profit another, sorely perplexing the tribes of unenviable
men. Whosoever shall come guided by the call and flight of birds of
sure omen, that man shall have advantage through my voice, and I will
not deceive him. But whoso shall trust to idly-chattering birds and
shall seek to invoke my prophetic art contrary to my will, and to
understand more than the eternal gods, I declare that he shall come on
an idle journey; yet his gifts I would take.
(ll. 550-568) ‘But I will tell you another thing, Son of all-glorious
Maia and Zeus who holds the aegis, luck-bringing genius of the gods.
There are certain holy ones, sisters born—three virgins 2523 gifted
with wings: their heads are besprinkled with white meal, and they dwell
under a ridge of Parnassus. These are teachers of divination apart from
me, the art which I practised while yet a boy following herds, though
my father paid no heed to it. From their home they fly now here, now
there, feeding on honey-comb and bringing all things to pass. And when
they are inspired through eating yellow honey, they are willing to
speak truth; but if they be deprived of the gods’ sweet food, then they
speak falsely, as they swarm in and out together. These, then, I give
you; enquire of them strictly and delight your heart: and if you should
teach any mortal so to do, often will he hear your response—if he have
good fortune. Take these, Son of Maia, and tend the wild roving, horned
oxen and horses and patient mules.’
(ll. 568a-573) So he spake. And from heaven father Zeus himself gave
confirmation to his words, and commanded that glorious Hermes should be
lord over all birds of omen and grim-eyed lions, and boars with
gleaming tusks, and over dogs and all flocks that the wide earth
nourishes, and over all sheep; also that he only should be the
appointed messenger to Hades, who, though he takes no gift, shall give
him no mean prize.
(ll. 574-578) Thus the lord Apollo showed his kindness for the Son of
Maia by all manner of friendship: and the Son of Cronos gave him grace
besides. He consorts with all mortals and immortals: a little he
profits, but continually throughout the dark night he cozens the tribes
of mortal men.
(ll. 579-580) And so, farewell, Son of Zeus and Maia; but I will
remember you and another song also.