_Cyn_. Why, we men do nothing of our own free will: we are obeying an irresistible impulse,—that is, if there is any truth in what we settled just now, about Fate’s being the cause of everything. Does a man commit a murder? Fate is the murderess. Does he rob a temple? He has her instructions for it. So if there is going to be any justice in Minos’s sentences, he will punish Destiny, not Sisyphus; Fate, not Tantalus. What harm did these men do? They only obeyed orders. _Zeus_. I am not going to speak to you any more. You are an unscrupulous man; a sophist. I shall go away and leave you to yourself. _Cyn_. I wanted to ask you where the Fates lived; and how they managed to attend to all the details of such a vast mass of business, just those three. I do not envy them their lot; they must have a busy time of it, with so much on their hands. Their destiny, apparently, is no better than other people’s. I would not exchange with them, if I had the choice; I had rather be poorer than I am, than sit before such a spindleful, watching every thread.—But never mind, if you would rather not answer. Your previous replies have quite cleared up my doubts about Destiny and Providence; and for the rest, I expect I was not destined to hear it. ZEUS TRAGOEDUS _Hermes. Hera. Colossus. Heracles. Athene. Posidon. Momus. Hermagoras. Zeus. Aphrodite. Apollo, Timocles. Damis_ _Herm_. Wherefore thus brooding, Zeus? wherefore apart, And palely pacing, as Earth’s sages use? Let me thy counsel know, thy cares partake; And find thy comfort in a faithful fool. _Ath_. Cronides, lord of lords, and all our sire, I clasp thy knees; grant thou what I require; A boon the lightning-eyed Tritonia asks: Speak, rend the veil thy secret thought that masks; Reveal what care thy mind within thee gnaws, Blanches thy cheek, and this deep moaning draws. _Zeus_. Speech hath no utterance of surpassing fear, Tragedy holds no misery or woe, But our divinest essence soon shall taste. _Ath_. Alas, how dire a prelude to thy tale! _Zeus_. O brood maleficent, teemed from Earth’s dark womb! And thou, Prometheus, how hast thou wrought me woe! _Ath_. Possess us; are not we thine own familiars? _Zeus_. With a whirr and a crash Let the levin-bolt dash— Ah, whither? _Hera_. A truce to your passion, Zeus. _We_ have not these good people’s gift for farce or recitation; _we_ have not swallowed Euripides whole, and cannot play up to you. Do you suppose we do not know how to account for your annoyance? _Zeus_. Thou knowst not; else thy waitings had been loud.