JUNO. (Aside.) Poor thing! that wilt thou ne'er have power to do. (Meditating.) Ere long will melt . . . yet--yet--she called me ugly!-- No pity only when in Tartarus! (To Semele.) Fly now, my love! Make haste to leave this spot, That Zeus may not observe thee--Let him wait Long for thy coming, that he with more fire May languish for thee-- SEMELE. Beroe! The heavens Have chosen thee their mouthpiece! Happy I! The gods from Olympus shall even descend, And before me their knees in deep homage shall bend, While mortals in silent submission abide-- But hold!--'tis time for me to haste away! [Exit hurriedly. JUNO. (Looking after her with exultation.) Weak, proud, and easily-deluded woman! His tender looks shall be consuming fire-- His kiss, annihilation--his embrace, A raging tempest to thee! Human frames Are powerless to endure the dreaded presence Of him who wields the thunderbolt on high! (With raving ecstasy.) Ha! when her waxen mortal body melts Within the arms of him, the fire-distilling, As melts the fleecy snow before the heat Of the bright sun--and when the perjured one In place of his soft tender bride, embraces A form of terror--with what ecstasy Shall I gaze downwards from Cithaeron's height, Exclaiming, so that in his hand the bolt Shall quake: "For shame, Saturnius! Fie, for shame! What need is there for thee to clasp so roughly?" [Exit hastily. (A Symphony.) SCENE II. The Hall as before.--Sudden brightness. ZEUS in the shape of a youth.--MERCURY in the distance. ZEUS. Thou son of Maia! MERCURY. (Kneeling, with his head bowed reverentially.) Zeus! ZEUS. Up! Hasten! Turn Thy pinions' flight toward far Scamander's bank! A shepherd there is weeping o'er the grave Of his loved shepherdess. No one shall weep When Zeus is loving: Call the dead to life! MERCURY. (Rising.) Let but thy head a nod almighty give, And in an instant I am there,--am back In the same instant-- ZEUS. Stay! As I o'er Argos Was flying, from my temples curling rose The sacrificial smoke: it gave me joy That thus the people worship me--so fly To Ceres, to my sister,--thus speaks Zeus: "Ten-thousandfold for fifty years to come Let her reward the Argive husbandmen!"-- MERCURY. With trembling haste I execute thy wrath,-- With joyous speed thy messages of grace, Father of all! For to the deities 'Tis bliss to make man happy; to destroy him Is anguish to the gods. Thy will be done! Where shall I pour into thine ears their thanks,-- Below in dust, or at thy throne on high?