51. 
’You little swaddled child of Jove and May! 
And seized him:—­’By this omen I shall trace
My noble herds, and you shall lead the way.’—­
Cyllenian Hermes from the grassy place,
Like one in earnest haste to get away, 400
Rose, and with hands lifted towards his face
Round both his ears up from his shoulders drew
His swaddling clothes, and—­’What mean you to do

52. 
’With me, you unkind God?’—­said Mercury: 
’Is it about these cows you tease me so? 405
I wish the race of cows were perished!—­I
Stole not your cows—­I do not even know
What things cows are.  Alas!  I well may sigh
That since I came into this world of woe,
I should have ever heard the name of one—­ 410
But I appeal to the Saturnian’s throne.’

53. 
Thus Phoebus and the vagrant Mercury
Talked without coming to an explanation,
With adverse purpose.  As for Phoebus, he
Sought not revenge, but only information, 415
And Hermes tried with lies and roguery
To cheat Apollo.—­But when no evasion
Served—­for the cunning one his match had found—­
He paced on first over the sandy ground.

54.
... 
He of the Silver Bow the child of Jove 420
Followed behind, till to their heavenly Sire
Came both his children, beautiful as Love,
And from his equal balance did require
A judgement in the cause wherein they strove. 
O’er odorous Olympus and its snows 425
A murmuring tumult as they came arose,—­

55. 
And from the folded depths of the great Hill,
While Hermes and Apollo reverent stood
Before Jove’s throne, the indestructible
Immortals rushed in mighty multitude; 430
And whilst their seats in order due they fill,
The lofty Thunderer in a careless mood
To Phoebus said:—­’Whence drive you this sweet prey,
This herald-baby, born but yesterday?—­

56. 
’A most important subject, trifler, this 435
To lay before the Gods!’—­’Nay, Father, nay,
When you have understood the business,
Say not that I alone am fond of prey. 
I found this little boy in a recess
Under Cyllene’s mountains far away—­ 440
A manifest and most apparent thief,
A scandalmonger beyond all belief.

57. 
’I never saw his like either in Heaven
Or upon earth for knavery or craft:—­
Out of the field my cattle yester-even, 445
By the low shore on which the loud sea laughed,
He right down to the river-ford had driven;
And mere astonishment would make you daft
To see the double kind of footsteps strange
He has impressed wherever he did range. 450