4–1
APOLLO
He picked up a dead tortoise somewhere, and made himself a musical instrument out of it; he’s fitted arms to it, with a yoke across, then driven in pegs, fitted a bridge, and stretched seven strings across; he plays a dainty melody with it, Hephaestus, well in tune, so that even I am green with envy for all my years of practice on the harp. Even at night, Maia was telling me, he wouldn’t stay in heaven, but would go all the way down to Hades out of curiosity—to steal something from there, I’ve no doubt. He has wings on his feet, and has had someone make him a rod with marvellous powers, and with it leads down the souls of the dead.
HEPHAESTUS
I gave him that for a toy.
APOLLO
Well, he’s paid you back for that good and proper—the tongs, you know.
HEPHAESTUS
Thanks for reminding me. I’ll go and get them back, if they’re to be found, as you say, in his baby-clothes.
POSEIDON
May I have a word with Zeus, Hermes?
HERMES
Impossible, Poseidon.
POSEIDON
Just tell him I’m here.
HERMES
Don’t bother us, I tell you. It’s not convenient. You can’t see him just now.
POSEIDON
He’s not with Hera, is he?
5
HERMES
No, it’s something quite different.
POSEIDON
I know what you mean. He’s got Ganymede in there.
HERMES
No, it’s not that either. He’s poorly.
POSEIDON
How come, Hermes? That’s surprising.
HERMES
I’m ashamed to tell you; it’s so awful.
10
POSEIDON
There’s nothing wrong with telling Uncle Poseidon.
HERMES
He’s just had a baby, uncle.
POSEIDON
Nonsense. How could he? Who’s the father? Was he a man-woman, then, without us knowing? His belly didn’t show he was pregnant.
HERMES
True enough; the child wasn’t there.
