house of my father, and tell out all this tale to
my mother, the deep-bosomed Metaneira, if perchance she will bid thee
come to our house and not seek the homes of others. A dear son born in
her later years is nurtured in the well-builded hall, a child of many
prayers and a welcome. If thou wouldst nurse him till he comes to the
measure of youth, then whatsoever woman saw thee should envy thee; such
gifts of fosterage would my mother give thee."
So spake she and the Goddess nodded assent. So rejoicing they filled
their shining pitchers with water and bore them away. Swiftly they came
to the high hall of their father, and quickly they told their mother what
they had heard and seen, and speedily she bade them run and call the
strange woman, offering goodly hire. Then as deer or calves in the
season of Spring leap along the meadow, when they have had their fill of
pasture, so lightly they kilted up the folds of their lovely kirtles, and
ran along the hollow chariot-way, while their hair danced on their
shoulders, in colour like the crocus flower. They found the glorious
Goddess at the wayside, even where they had left her, and anon they led
her to their father's house. But she paced behind in heaviness of heart,
her head veiled, and the dark robe floating about her slender feet
divine. Speedily they came to the house of Celeus, the fosterling of
Zeus, and they went through the corridor where their lady mother was
sitting by the doorpost of the well-wrought hall, with her child in her
lap, a young blossom, and the girls ran up to her, but the Goddess stood
on the threshold, her head touching the roof-beam, and she filled the
doorway with the light divine. Then wonder, and awe, and pale fear
seized the mother, and she gave place from her high seat, and bade the
Goddess be seated. But Demeter the bearer of the Seasons, the Giver of
goodly gifts, would not sit down upon the shining high seat. Nay, in
silence she waited, casting down her lovely eyes, till the wise Iambe set
for her a well-made stool, and cast over it a glistering fleece. {194}
Then sat she down and held the veil before her face; long in sorrow and
silence sat she so, and spake to no man nor made any sign, but smileless
she sat, nor tasted meat nor drink, wasting with long desire for her deep-
bosomed daughter.
So abode she till wise Iambe with jests and many mockeries beguiled the
lady, the holy one, to smile and laugh and hold a happier heart, and
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