Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns, and Homerica
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