ly, and having heard of the misfortune that had befallen her,
they ordered a ship with sails to be equipped to go in search of her.
Further reference to the Sirens will be made, on treating of the
adventures of Ulysses.

FABLE VI. [V.564-641]

The Muse continues her song, in which Ceres, being satisfied with the
decision of Jupiter relative to her daughter, returns to Arethusa, to
learn the history of her adventures. The Nymph entertains the Goddess
with the Story of the passion of Alpheus, and his pursuit of her; to
avoid which, she implores the assistance of Diana, who changes her
into a fountain.

"But Jupiter being the mediator between his brother and his disconsolate
sister, divides the rolling year equally {between them}. For {now}, the
Goddess, a common Divinity of two kingdoms, is so many months with her
mother, and just as many with her husband. Immediately the appearance of
both her mind and her countenance is changed; for the brow of the
Goddess, which, of late, might appear sad, even to Pluto, himself, is
full of gladness; as the Sun, which has lately been covered with watery
clouds, when he comes forth from the clouds, {now} dispersed. The genial
Ceres, {now} at ease on the recovery of her daughter, {thus} asks, 'What
was the cause of thy wanderings? Why art thou, Arethusa, a sacred
spring?' The waters are silent, {and}, the Goddess raises her head from
the deep fountain; and, having dried her green tresses with her hand,
she relates the old amours of the stream of Elis.[71]

"'I was,' says she, 'one of the Nymphs which exist in Achaia, nor did
any one more eagerly skim along the glades than myself, nor with more
industry set the nets. But though the reputation for beauty was never
sought by me, although, {too}, I was of robust make, {still} I had the
name of being beautiful. But my appearance, when so much commended, did
not please me; and I, like a country lass, blushed at those endowments
of person in which other females are wont to take a pride, and I deemed
it a crime to please. I remember, I was returning weary from the
Stymphalian[72] wood; the weather was hot, and my toil had redoubled the
intense heat. I found a stream gliding on without any eddies, without
any noise, {and} clear to the bottom; through which every pebble, at so
great a depth, might be counted, {and} which you could hardly suppose to
be in motion. The hoary willows[73] and poplars, nourished by the water,
fur