tinence in having, by an unjust law, which they wish to retain in
force, given a separate conveyance to each God, for his own use, and
left me to go on foot: me, like a village messenger, though, as everyone
knows, I am the famous messenger of the sovereign of the Gods, on the
earth and in the heavens. Without any exaggeration, I need more than any
one else the means of being carried about, because of all the duties he
puts upon me.

NIGHT. What can one do? The poets do what pleases them. It is not the
only stupidity we have detected in these gentlemen. But surely your
irritation against them is wrong, for the wings at your feet are a
friendly gift of theirs.

MERC. Yes; but does going more quickly tire oneself less?

NIGHT. Let us leave the matter, Seigneur Mercury, and learn what is
wanted.

MERC. Jupiter, as I have told you, wishes the dark aid of your cloak for
a certain gallant adventure, which a new love affair has furnished
him. His custom is not new to you, I believe: often does he neglect the
heavens for the earth; and you are not ignorant that this master of
the Gods loves to take upon himself the guise of man to woo earthly
beauties. He knows a hundred ingenious tricks to entrap the most
obdurate. He has felt the darts of Alcmene's eyes; and, whilst
Amphitryon, her husband, commands the Theban troops on the plains of
Boeotia, Jupiter has taken his form, and assuaged his pains, in the
possession of the sweetest of pleasures. The condition of the couple is
propitious to his desire: Hymen joined them only a few days ago; and the
young warmth of their tender love suggested to Jupiter to have recourse
to this fine artifice. His stratagem proved successful in this case; but
with many a cherished object a similar disguise would not be of any
use: it is not always a sure means of pleasing, to adopt the form, of a
husband.

NIGHT. I admire Jupiter, and I cannot imagine all the disguises which
come into his head.

MERC. By these means he wishes to taste all sorts of conditions: that
is the act of a God who is not a fool. However mortals may regard him,
I should think very meanly of him if he never quitted his redoubtable
mien, and were always in the heavens, standing upon his dignity. In my
opinion, there is nothing more idiotic than always to be imprisoned in
one's grandeur; above all, a lofty rank becomes very inconvenient in
the transports of amorous ardour. Jupiter, no doubt, is a connoisseur
in pleasure, a