23 The second challenge (Hermes confronts Apollo): 228-380

Divine Opposition (II)

Apollo vs. Hermes (the Arrest)

Location: Cyllene.

Apollo

strolled over gently rolling foothills

walking quietly through a soft blanket of forest,

towards a rock with a subtle hollow —

the hole, her tight entrance

lightly veiled in seductive shadow

aphrodisiac sex still lingering on the air

where the Nymph had conceived her hidden son

a perfect fit for

Zeus      230

[who-could-sneak-into-any-lady’s-bedroom],

son of crafty old Kronos.

It was a picture of paradise

And it was arousing for Apollo’s

nose… as

the divine smell of incense:

tantalizing,

seductive

wafted from the sacred, holy space.

All around him, on the threshold

flocks of stinky long-hooved sheep snacked,

unconcerned

content.

Summoning all his courage,

he journeyed down

through the looming stone archway

daring to brave the darkness

of the Stygian monster-cave:

king

whose-deeds-are-far-known

[who-follows-in-his-father’s-footsteps]

Apollo!

[–his actions confirm his reputation:

glorious slayer of underworld monsters,

unequalled on the battlefield

impossible to rival–]

But he was rivaled then

across the battlefield

his eyes were met by the gaze of

him —

the heir of Zeus

and

the son of Maia.    235

Hermes

had noticed from far away the coming of

Apollo

who-kills-from-far-away

(not a pleasant epithet for him to use)

and it was clear that Apollo

was fuming,

full of righteous fury about his lost cattle.

So it was time for Hermes to suit up for the oncoming clash.

He again clad himself in the armour of his

swaddling blanket and fragrant diaper

–source of the “divine” incense smell from earlier–

 [And as he prepared to do epic battle,

it is worth giving him a suitably epic simile]

It was just as:

after the forest fire has spent its rage,

deep within the stumps of blasted trees,

under great blankets of ash

some bright embers still lie, concealed

So too Hermes,

upon seeing the

one-who-kills-from-far-away

come uncomfortably close,

bravely…

hid.

He shrunk under the blankets,

drawing in his head, hands and feet

until he was as small as possible.

[A sort of baby lump. ]240

His appearance

a clueless baby

cold after a recent bath,

deep in welcome sleep.

But, in truth:

he remained

awake and

in-control

concealed under his right arm,

his secret weapon

waiting to be revealed:

the lovely Tortoise-shell.

[This crafty deception confirms his reputation as

the most glorious thief,

impossible to notice!]

But he was noticed then

across the battlefield

his eyes were met by the gaze of

him,

the heir of Zeus

and

the son of Leto.

Apollo’s Interrogation

[Immediately across the threshold]

The Nymph

–beautiful–

caught the eye of  Apollo

[who-follows-in-his-father’s-footsteps]

[like father, like son]

And

for a moment…

he thought about what he would like to do next

As he looked her up and down

but

with a stray sideways glance

his eyes chanced upon

her doted-on son.

just a normal baby

…surely…

at least in appearance

— and yet —

on closer inspection

his beautiful innocence

was just skin deep —

concealing an evil nature. 245

Filled now with righteous fury

Apollo

began

rifling through the bedrooms

of the grand-palace-with-pillars-supporting-its-ceiling

looking for his cows.

Ripping the temple’s metal key

from her neck, he angrily broke open

three sacred chambers,

one

by

one.

Closet one:

heaps of Nectar and desire-causing ambrosia.

Closet two:

masses of gold and silver.

Closet three:

mounds of purple clothes

and the nymph’s silky undergarments.               250

Nothing suspicious.

All these were things that one would expect to find

within the temple of an important god –

but no cows.

After thoroughly trashing the bedroom of the goddess

but finding no evidence,

[at least not of the most recent theft]

Leto’s son loomed

above ..below

the crib’s high shelf

yelling down up at

Hermes:

(who was, after all)

famous-for-his-thefts.

“Hey, baby! Yeah, you!

The one lying up there in your crib!

Start testifying about my stolen cows!

And you had better talk quickly or we will have a ‘disagreement’,

 and then all bets are off.  255

[No civility or law, even of Zeus, can hold back my authority then.]

If you do not come clean, here is my prediction for your future:

I will drag you out the door, kicking and screaming

Before hurling you, like trash

into the deepest depths of Tartaros.

Tumbling into that doomed darkness will be the end for you–

neither will your mother

[–no mater how attractive…]

find a way to bring you back into the light

nor could your father…

…whatever lowlife scum sired you…

have found a way to argue for your release.

[Unlike when I killed the Cyclopes

and my mother Leto saved me from Zeus’ punishment]

As far as I care, you can go to hell!

This will be your fate:

Under the earth you will rot

surrounded by other tiny, weak souls.

Amongst those who are punished eternally,

you will be

first and foremost.”

Hermes countered

with a carefully crafted oration:  260

“Hi Leto’s son, mama’s boy.

What is it that you are yelling about?

Field-dwelling cows?

Are you really looking for them

here, in my house?

not, say, in a field?

Well, if that is the case,

let me clear things up by answering the three common court questions:

I have seen nothing, with certainty,

I do not know anything, for sure,

I have not heard anything relevant from anyone else.

So, I am sorry, but I am not able to give any testimony for the prosecution

–in the case of your cows–

not even if you were offering a reward.

[Let us instead go over what is likely:]

Am I likely to be a herder of cattle?

No. I hardly have the age or power —

herders are big, strong men.  265

[As for the likelihood of my motives:]

It is not likely that I care much

for the domains of thieves —

baby stuff would be my forte:

Sleep, for instance

– that I do care about –

Oh! And the milk of my mother.

–Wah-Wah![1]—

swaddling blankets around my shoulders

–another interest —

Ooh and having warm baths!

[How likely is it that I have a motive for the supposed theft?]

Well here, it would be very difficult for anyone to

‘divine’ (get it?)

that we had any previous negative dealings

which provided a motive for our ‘disagreement.’

[Finally, for your version of events

let us us consider the likelihood  :]

I can sum it up in one word:

unlikely.

Imagine you intended to make this argument before the gods’ court:  270

‘A tiny child –recently born, unable to walk or talk–

made an epic journey, walking over the threshold of his house

— and more– somehow herded a massive herd of field-dwelling cattle back inside.

[At which point they must have vanished, because I did not find any evidence!]’

The Assembly of the gods would unanimously agree that

your claim had been ‘field’ed

not just improbably

but improperly.

[Just think about how easy my rebuttal would be]:

I was literally born yesterday

how could I have made the journey you describe?

the ground over the threshold is

jagged and

rough

but my tiny widdle feet are

soft and

shoeless.

[In conclusion:]

If you like, I would even swear an oath to this effect

… say, swearing on the very head of my so-called ‘low-life’ father

– that is a good idea, let’s call him in–

Or even if you asked for the most serious oath

that even mighty gods like us swear.

In either case, I would swear just like this:

‘Nope!

Neither do I say that I am at fault,   275

nor have I seen any other thief of the gods’ cattle.

I mean, what even are cows?  I am just a dumb baby.

I have not even heard of cows

except through their epic kleos (in my bedtime stories).'”

In speech, this was how Hermes contested Apollo.

As he spoke though, he wore two different faces

Sometimes,

when he directly provoked Apollo with his accusations

his wild eyes flashed with fire

he flared his mighty brows

up and

down,

making clear his intentions and his ambitions

[to claim the utmost glory and defeat those before him,

even up to the very throne of Zeus itself]

[– in this he resembled a

fierce and

epic monster,

a plague

like a baby-Typhaon.]

At other points,

when mimicking the arguments of Apollo

[he used the techniques of the orators]

rolling his eyes sarcastically

–shiftily refusing to meet Apollo’s eyes–

or letting out an exaggerated whistle,

as one does when hearing something ridiculous. 280

After this performance, Apollo softened (a bit) and couldn’t help but laugh.

A transformative laugh that changed everything.