II

_Eros. Zeus_


_Eros_. You might let me off, Zeus! I suppose it _was_ rather too bad
of me; but there!--I am but a child; a wayward child.

_Zeus_. A child, and born before Iapetus was ever thought of? You bad
old man! Just because you have no beard, and no white hairs, are you
going to pass yourself off for a child?

_Eros_. Well, and what such mighty harm has the old man ever done you,
that you should talk of chains?

_Zeus_. Ask your own guilty conscience, what harm. The pranks you have
played me! Satyr, bull, swan, eagle, shower of gold,--I have been
everything in my time; and I have you to thank for it. You never by
any chance make the women in love with _me_; no one is ever smitten
with _my_ charms, that I have noticed. No, there must be magic in it
always; I must be kept well out of sight. They like the bull or the
swan well enough: but once let them set eyes on _me_, and they are
frightened out of their lives.

_Eros_. Well, of course. They are but mortals; the sight of Zeus is
too much for them.

_Zeus_. Then why are Branchus and Hyacinth so fond of Apollo?

_Eros_. Daphne ran away from him, anyhow; in spite of his beautiful