University of Virginia Library

Momus, the youngest son of Erebus,
Brother of Night and Day, the friend of Man,
Knelt lowly at Apollo's feet to crave
Protection from the gods, that loved him once
But now pursued him with revengeful hate.

Apollo heard, and with a gracious hand
Upraised him from the ground, as king might king.
“What hast thou done,”;he said, “that thus the gods
Clamour against thee with incessant tongue,
And bear their plaints to the Eternal Throne?
Tell me thy fault, or if not fault—offence,
That I may stand betwixt their wrath and thee.”

As the dark sea reflects the morning light,
In myriad smiles upon its every wave,
So the sad face of Momus flushed with joy
As he replied: “I've told the gods the truth,
And shown them what they are, nor more nor less;
Truth without malice, truth with jesting tongue,
Truth without gall, for merriment in heaven.
And if I laugh, and feel no bitterness,
Am I not Lord of Laughter, even as Thou
Art Lord of Light? Fate cleaves my way, like thine,
And I must laugh as Ares must destroy,
And Aphrodite love, and Hera frown,
And Dionysus quaff the juice of grape.
Why should the gods forget themselves like men,
And for an arrowy word that draws no blood,
And makes no puncture in immortal flesh,
Implore the lightnings on my careless head,
And strive to hurl me hopeless out of Heaven?”

Apollo led him to the assembled gods,
Defiant, half rejoicing, half afraid,
And would have soothed their anger by fair words,
But that the storm of passion, breaking loose,
O'erflowed its bounds among the goddesses,
Who would have slain him, had their hate the power,
But that they knew his immortality
Coeval with their own. All spake at once,
For all imagined or invented wrong;
And each had fed the other's misery
By loose report and spiteful surplusage,
Till Aphrodite, red and white by turns,
As flowed or ebbed the billows of her rage,
Shook from her passionate eyes the lightning flash,
And from her beauteous lips the venomous words,
That proved she had been scorned; and stepping forth
In the full lustre of her loveliness,
Like Cynthia seen through storm of driving rain,
Spake for the rest, with short sharp utterance.
“He hath a slanderous and malignant tongue!
His looks are poison! He defames the gods,
Blasphemes, and lies, and makes a hell of Heaven!”

Said Momus, “Did I e'er blaspheme thy name?
Said I thou wert not fair? If so, I lied,
And will do penance. If I said, woe's me!
That thou wert chaste, why then I lied again,
And court the doom decreed, whate'er it be!”
“Why sleep the thunderbolts? Is Justice dead?
Thou, Ares, if thou love me, smite him dumb!”
Said Aphrodite, all her lovely frame
Convulsed and quivering. Pallas touched her hand—
Pallas, serene and never to be moved
By words of passion from the calm of soul,
In which her wisdom centred like a star
In the blue depths of an unfathomed sky—
And said: “Be still, ye over-angry tongues,
While I unfold his jibes and mockeries
Against the awful sanctities of Heaven—
Against the Truth itself. He said of me
That I was cold, pedantic, hard of heart,
That all my wisdom was not worth a song
Sung by a Bacchanal on festal night.
He said of Aphrodite, queen of queens,
The loveliest birth and master-piece of Time,
That he forgave the number of her loves,
Many as billows on the rolling sea,
But that she had a footfall ponderous
As that of ox which treadeth out the corn!
He said of Ares, in his pomp of arms,
That he was brutal, cruel, lapping blood
As dogs lap water; that he filled the earth
With murder, rapine, ruin, and revenge,
And drove the nations frantic with the blast
Of his war-trumpet, flaring blood and death.
He said of great Diana, huntress born,
That fond Endymion woo'd her smile in vain,
And languished hopeless; not because 'twas sin
To stoop from Heaven to share a mortal's love,
But for the reason, paramount as Fate,
That love required a heart, and she had none.
He said of Dionysus that his wine
Maddened the brain and gladdened not the soul;
That as Silenus was, would Bacchus be—
The slave of lust and carnal appetite!
He said of Hermes, that he was a spy
More than a messenger; and that the god,
The foolish goddess, or the credulous nymph,
Who trusted him with secrets, made them known
To all the babbling company of Heaven.”

Apollo smiled. “And is this all,”;he said,
“That makes ye rage like children of the Earth,
Silly and frivolous, at speech so vain?”
“Not so,”;replied the goddess, looking round
Triumphant on the crowd; “He speaks of Thee!
He owns thou art the Lord of Life and Light,
God of the gods, whose glory shines supreme,
Absorbing ours as Day absorbs the Night:
But oft proclaims, with jesting words profane,
That all thine odes and idyls, songs and hymns,
Made on the earth to please the sons of men,
When dwelling on the slopes of Arcady
And tending sheep, were execrable verse,
Too bad for gods or men!”

“And is this so?”
Apollo asked, his keen eyes flashing fire.
And then, relapsing suddenly to calm,
That dwelt but on his face, he turned aside
And spake to Momus. “Get thee gone to Earth!
Thy wit offends the gods! Thy words are lies!
I have been banished and have herded sheep,
And gone through drudgeries, and suffered wrong:
Do thou the same. Mankind has need of thee.
Show them their faults; jest, laugh, and speak the truth,
And make them better with thy pleasantries—
The gods require thee not!”

So Momus fell
Unpitied to the Earth. The Earth was glad
To see his sock, his buskin, and his mask,
And gave him welcome. Here he still abides,
And sports and laughs, beloved of kings and crowds—
Their guide, their teacher, comforter and friend.