Apollo, in
whose eyes nothing under the sun was fairer than a woman, turned to
Hermes and said:
"O Maya's son, how beautiful are the Athenian women!"
"And virtuous too, my Radiant," answered Hermes; "they are under
Pallas' tutelage."
The Silver-arrowed god became silent, and listening looked into space.
In the mean while the twilight was slowly quenched, movement gradually
stopped. Scythian slaves shut the gates, and finally all became quiet.
The Ambrosian night threw on the Acropolis, city, and environs, a dark
veil embroidered with stars.
But the dusk did not last long. Soon from the Archipelago appeared the
pale Selene, and began to sail like a silvery boat in the heavenly
space. And then the walls of the Acropolis lighted again, only they
beamed now with a pale-green light, and looked even more like a vision
in a dream.
"One must agree," said Apollo, "that Athena has chosen for herself a
charming home."
"Oh, she is very clever! Who could choose better?" answered Hermes.
"Then Zeus has a fancy for her. If she wishes for anything she has
only to caress his beard and immediately he calls her Tritogenia, dear
daughter; he promises her everything and permits everything."
"Tritogenia bores me sometimes," grumbled Latona's son.
"Yes, I have noticed that she becomes very tedious," answered Hermes.
"Like an old peripatetic; and then she is virtuous to the ridiculous,
like my sister Artemis.
Pages:
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78