II. Olympus

HERMES (putting on his sandals).

MUCH must he toil who serves the Immortal Gods,

And I, who am their herald, most of all.

No rest have I, nor respite. I no sooner

Unclasp the wingèd sandals from my feet,

Than I again must clasp them, and depart

Upon some foolish errand. But to-day

The errand is not foolish. Never yet

With greater joy did I obey the summons

That sends me earthward. I will fly so swiftly

That my caduceus in the whistling air

Shall make a sound like the Pandæan pipes,

Cheating the shepherds; for to-day I go,

Commissioned by high-thundering Zeus, to lead

A maiden to Prometheus, in his tower,

And by my cunning arguments persuade him

To marry her. What mischief lies concealed

In this design I know not; but I know

Who thinks of marrying hath already taken

One step upon the road to penitence.

Such embassies delight me. Forth I launch

On the sustaining air, nor fear to fall

Like Icarus, nor swerve aside like him

Who drove amiss Hyperion’s fiery steeds.

I sink, I fly! The yielding element

Folds itself round about me like an arm,

And holds me as a mother holds her child.