Yawned at the very instant Artemis did,
With me, and swart Hephaestus.” The lame smith,
Stroking his leather apron, blinked at the others,
Worshipful of brilliance. Even in Ares,
Scowling, and more quietly in her
The huntress, whose green robe the animals knew,
He found it; and of course in Aphrodite,
Wife to him once, he found it, a relentless
Laughter filling her eyes and her gold limbs.
“It was not I,” said Hermes.