Dialogues of the Gods (14.2-15.1)

Well, I hope he makes a success of the job, though I must say, Hermes, this sort of thing didn’t happen in Cronos’ day. (It’s all right, we’re alone.) He would never sleep away from Rhea, [*] or leave heaven for a bed in Thebes, but day was day, and night night, varying only within their proper limits with the seasons of the year, with none of these strange upheavals. No, Cronos would never have had anything to do with a mortal woman. Now, however, for some poor miserable woman, everything must be turned topsy-turvy, my horses become stiff for want of exercise, the road grows difficult, left untrodden for three days on end, and men must spend a miserable time in the dark. That’s what they’ll get from Zeus’ love-affairs. Why, they’ll have to sit waiting in darkness for hours, till he finishes his job on the labouring fellow you’ve been telling me about.

Quiet, Mr. Sun, or your words may get you into trouble. I’ll be off now to the Moon and to Sleep,

Stop quarrelling, you two; you’re just like a couple of men. It’s quite improper and out of place at the table of the gods.

But, Zeus, do you really mean this medicine man to have a place above me?

He does, by Zeus, for I’m your better.

How, you crackbrain? Because Zeus blasted you with his thunderbolt for your impious doings, [*] and you’ve now received immortality because he relented and pitied you?

You must have forgotten, Heracles, how you too were scorched to death on Oeta, [*] that you taunt me with getting burned.

That doesn’t mean our lives were the same. I’m the son of Zeus, and performed all those labours cleaning up the world, by overcoming monsters, and punishing men of violence; but you’re just a herb-chopper and quack, useful perhaps among suffering humanity for administering potions, but without one manly deed to show.