was soon to show forth wonderful deeds among the deathless gods.
Born with the dawning, at mid-day he played on the lyre, and in the
evening he stole the cattle of far-shooting Apollo on the fourth day
of the month; for on that day queenly Maia bare him. So soon as he had
leaped from his mother's heavenly womb, he lay not long waiting in his
holy cradle, but he sprang up and sought the oxen of Apollo. But as he
stepped over the threshold of the high-roofed cave, he found a tortoise
there and gained endless delight. For it was Hermes who first made the
tortoise a singer. The creature fell in his way at the courtyard gate,
where it was feeding on the rich grass before the dwelling, waddling
along. When he saw it, the luck-bringing son of Zeus laughed and said:

(ll. 30-38) 'An omen of great luck for me so soon! I do not slight it.
Hail, comrade of the feast, lovely in shape, sounding at the dance! With
joy I meet you! Where got you that rich gaud for covering, that spangled
shell--a tortoise living in the mountains? But I will take and carry you
within: you shall help me and I will do you no disgrace, though first of
all you must profit me. It is better to be at home: harm may come out
of doors. Living, you shall be a spell against mischievous witchcraft
[2513]; but if you die, then you shall make sweetest song.

(ll. 39-61) Thus speaking, he took up the tortoise in both hands and
went back into the house carrying his charming toy. Then he cut off its
limbs and scooped out the marrow of the mountain-tortoise with a scoop
of grey iron. As a swift thought darts through the heart of a man when
thronging cares haunt him, or as bright glances flash from the eye, so
glorious Hermes planned both thought and deed at once. He cut stalks of
reed to measure and fixed them, fastening their ends across the back and
through the shell of the tortoise, and then stretched ox hide all over
it by his skill. Also he put in the horns and fitted a cross-piece upon
the two of them, and stretched seven strings of sheep-gut. But when he
had made it he proved each string in turn with the key, as he held the
lovely thing. At the touch of his hand it sounded marvellously; and, as
he tried it, the god sang sweet random snatches, even as youths bandy
taunts at festivals. He sang of Zeus the son of Cronos and neat-shod
Maia, the converse which they had before in the comradeship of love,
telling all the glorious tale of his own begetting. He celebrated,