_Zeus_. If he says anything of the kind he shall soon find himself in Hades, spinning round on a wheel for all eternity. That will keep him busy! And serve him right; not for falling in love—I see no great harm in that—but for letting his tongue wag. F. VII _Hephaestus. Apollo_ _Heph_. Have you seen Maia's baby, Apollo? such a pretty little thing, with a smile for everybody; you can see it is going to be a treasure. _Ap_. That baby a treasure? well, in mischief, Iapetus is young beside it. _Heph_. Why, what harm can it do, only just born? _Ap_. Ask Posidon; it stole his trident. Ask Ares; he was surprised to find his sword gone out of the scabbard. Not to mention myself, disarmed of bow and arrows. _Heph_. Never! that infant? he has hardly found his legs yet; he is not out of his baby-linen. _Ap_. Ah, you will find out, Hephaestus, if he gets within reach of you. _Heph_. He has been. _Ap_. Well? all your tools safe? none missing? _Heph_. Of course not. _Ap_. I advise you to make sure. _Heph_. Zeus! where are my pincers? _Ap_. Ah, you will find them among the baby-linen. _Heph_. So light-fingered? one would swear he had practised petty larceny in the womb. _Ap_. Ah, and you don't know what a glib young chatterbox he is; and, if he has his way, he is to be our errand-boy! Yesterday he challenged Eros—tripped up his heels somehow, and had him on his back in a twinkling; before the applause was over, he had taken the opportunity of a congratulatory hug from Aphrodite to steal her girdle; Zeus had not done laughing before—the sceptre was gone. If the thunderbolt had not been too heavy, and very hot, he would have made away with that too. _Heph_. The child has some spirit in him, by your account. _Ap_. Spirit, yes—and some music, moreover, young as he is. _Heph_. How can you tell that? _Ap_. He picked up a dead tortoise somewhere or other, and contrived an instrument with it. He fitted horns to it, with a cross-bar, stuck in pegs, inserted a bridge, and played a sweet tuneful thing that made an old harper like me quite envious. Even at night, Maia was saying, he does not stay in Heaven; he goes down poking his nose into Hades—on a thieves' errand, no doubt. Then he has a pair of wings, and he has made himself a magic wand, which he uses for marshalling souls—convoying the dead to their place. _Heph_. Ah, I gave him that, for a toy. _Ap_. And by way of payment he stole— _Heph_. Well thought on; I must go and get them; you may be right about the baby-linen. H. VIII _Hephaestus. Zeus_ _Heph_. What are your orders, Zeus? You sent for me, and here I am; with such an edge to my axe as would cleave a stone at one blow. _Zeus_. Ah; that's right, Hephaestus. Just split my head in half, will you? _Heph_. You think I am mad, perhaps?—Seriously, now, what can I do for you?