Mercury, perceiving the Far-Darter, draw himself away.[1] And in a small place he gathered up his head, and hands, and feet, because just washed, seeking sweet sleep after hunting, and he held the new-formed[2] lyre under his shoulder. But the son of Jove and Latona recognised, nor failed to perceive the all-beauteous mountain nymph and her dear son, a little boy, swathed up in crafty tricks. And having looked around every cranny of the large dwelling, taking a shining key, he opened three recesses full of nectar and delightful ambrosia. And much gold and silver lay within, and many purple and white-woven garments of the nymph, such as the sacred dwellings of the blessed gods contain within. Here after the son of Latona had searched out the crannies of the large dwelling, he addressed glorious Mercury in words:
"O boy, who reclinest in a cradle, at once tell me where my bulls are, since we shall otherwise quarrel not fittingly. For I will hurl thee into murky Tartarus, into sorrowful and inextricable darkness; nor shall thy mother nor thy sire bring thee forth into the light, but beneath the earth shalt thou perish, acting as leader[3] over a few men."
But him Mercury answered with crafty words: "O son[4] of Latona, what hard word is this thou hast said? And why
- ↑ Quasi se sibi subtraxit, se fugit," Ernesti. Hermann, however, more rightly reads ἀλέεινε, ἒ αὐτὸν.
- ↑ But Herm. reads ἐγρήσσων ἐτεόν γε χέλύν δ' ὑπ.
- ↑ Matthiæ, however, reads ἠπεροπεύων, and Hermann δολίοισιν ἐν ἀνδρ, which produces an amusing meaning.
- ↑ I cannot refrain from quoting Shelley's eloquent paraphrase:
"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?
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 you more than you now have heard.
An ox-stealer should be both tall and strong,
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,
And to be wash'd in water clean and warm,
And hush'd, and kiss'd, and kept secure from harm.'
