_Zeus_. Apollo was angry with Croesus. When Croesus boiled
that lamb and tortoise together in the cauldron, he was making
trial of Apollo.

_Cyn_. Gods ought not to be angry. After all, I suppose it was
fated that the Lydian should misinterpret that oracle; his case
only serves to illustrate that general ignorance of the future,
which Destiny has appointed for mankind. At that rate, your
prophetic power too seems to be in her hands.

_Zeus_. You leave us nothing, then? We exercise no control, we
are not entitled to sacrifice, we are very drills and adzes. But
you may well despise me: why do I sit here listening to all this,
with my thunder-bolt beneath my arm?

_Cyn_. Nay, smite, if the thunder-bolt is my destiny. I shall
think none the worse of you; I shall know it is all Clotho's doing;
I will not even blame the bolt that wounds me. And by the way--
talking of thunder-bolts--there is one thing I will ask you and
Destiny to explain; you can answer for her. Why is it that you
leave all the pirates and temple-robbers and ruffians and perjurers
to themselves, and direct your shafts (as you are always doing)
against an oak-tree or a stone or a harmless mast, or even an
honest, God-fearing traveller? ... No answer? Is this one of the
things it is not proper for me to know?

_Zeus_. It is, Cyniscus. You are a meddlesome fellow; I don't
know where you picked up all these ideas.

_Cyn_. Well, I suppose I must not ask you all (Providence and