(ll. 1-3) I begin to sing of rich-haired Demeter, awful goddess—of her
and her trim-ankled daughter whom Aidoneus rapt away, given to him by
all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer.
(ll. 4-18) Apart from Demeter, lady of the golden sword and glorious
fruits, she was playing with the deep-bosomed daughters of Oceanus and
gathering flowers over a soft meadow, roses and crocuses and beautiful
violets, irises also and hyacinths and the narcissus, which Earth made
to grow at the will of Zeus and to please the Host of Many, to be a
snare for the bloom-like girl—a marvellous, radiant flower. It was a
thing of awe whether for deathless gods or mortal men to see: from its
root grew a hundred blooms, and it smelled most sweetly, so that all
wide heaven above and the whole earth and the sea’s salt swell laughed
for joy. And the girl was amazed and reached out with both hands to
take the lovely toy; but the wide-pathed earth yawned there in the
plain of Nysa, and the lord, Host of Many, with his immortal horses
sprang out upon her—the Son of Cronos, He who has many names 2505.
(ll. 19-32) He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bare her
away lamenting. Then she cried out shrilly with her voice, calling upon
her father, the Son of Cronos, who is most high and excellent. But no
one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice,
nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tender-hearted Hecate,
bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave,
and the lord Helios, Hyperion’s bright son, as she cried to her father,
the Son of Cronos. But he was sitting aloof, apart from the gods, in
his temple where many pray, and receiving sweet offerings from mortal
men. So he, that Son of Cronos, of many names, who is Ruler of Many and
Host of Many, was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal
chariot—his own brother’s child and all unwilling.
(ll. 33-39) And so long as she, the goddess, yet beheld earth and
starry heaven and the strong-flowing sea where fishes shoal, and the
rays of the sun, and still hoped to see her dear mother and the tribes
of the eternal gods, so long hope calmed her great heart for all her
trouble.... ((LACUNA)) ....and the heights of the mountains and the
depths of the sea rang with her immortal voice: and her queenly mother
heard her.
(ll. 40-53) Bitter pain seized her heart, and she rent the covering
upon her divine hair with her dear hands: her dark cloak she cast down
from both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird, over the firm land
and yielding sea, seeking her child. But no one would tell her the
truth, neither god nor mortal men; and of the birds of omen none came
with true news for her. Then for nine days queenly Deo wandered over
the earth with flaming torches in her hands, so grieved that she never
tasted ambrosia and the sweet draught of nectar, nor sprinkled her body
with water. But when the tenth enlightening dawn had come, Hecate, with
a torch in her hands, met her, and spoke to her and told her news:
(ll. 54-58) ‘Queenly Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of good
gifts, what god of heaven or what mortal man has rapt away Persephone
and pierced with sorrow your dear heart? For I heard her voice, yet saw
not with my eyes who it was. But I tell you truly and shortly all I
know.’
(ll. 59-73) So, then, said Hecate. And the daughter of rich-haired Rhea
answered her not, but sped swiftly with her, holding flaming torches in
her hands. So they came to Helios, who is watchman of both gods and
men, and stood in front of his horses: and the bright goddess enquired
of him: ‘Helios, do you at least regard me, goddess as I am, if ever by
word or deed of mine I have cheered your heart and spirit. Through the
fruitless air I heard the thrilling cry of my daughter whom I bare,
sweet scion of my body and lovely in form, as of one seized violently;
though with my eyes I saw nothing. But you—for with your beams you look
down from the bright upper air Over all the earth and sea—tell me truly
of my dear child, if you have seen her anywhere, what god or mortal man
has violently seized her against her will and mine, and so made off.’
(ll. 74-87) So said she. And the Son of Hyperion answered her: ‘Queen
Demeter, daughter of rich-haired Rhea, I will tell you the truth; for I
greatly reverence and pity you in your grief for your trim-ankled
daughter. None other of the deathless gods is to blame, but only
cloud-gathering Zeus who gave her to Hades, her father’s brother, to be
called his buxom wife. And Hades seized her and took her loudly crying
in his chariot down to his realm of mist and gloom. Yet, goddess, cease
your loud lament and keep not vain anger unrelentingly: Aidoneus, the
Ruler of Many, is no unfitting husband among the deathless gods for
your child, being your own brother and born of the same stock: also,
for honour, he has that third share which he received when division was
made at the first, and is appointed lord of those among whom he
dwells.’
(ll. 88-89) So he spake, and called to his horses: and at his chiding
they quickly whirled the swift chariot along, like long-winged birds.
(ll. 90-112) But grief yet more terrible and savage came into the heart
of Demeter, and thereafter she was so angered with the dark-clouded Son
of Cronos that she avoided the gathering of the gods and high Olympus,
and went to the towns and rich fields of men, disfiguring her form a
long while. And no one of men or deep-bosomed women knew her when they
saw her, until she came to the house of wise Celeus who then was lord
of fragrant Eleusis. Vexed in her dear heart, she sat near the wayside
by the Maiden Well, from which the women of the place were used to draw
water, in a shady place over which grew an olive shrub. And she was
like an ancient woman who is cut off from childbearing and the gifts of
garland-loving Aphrodite, like the nurses of king’s children who deal
justice, or like the house-keepers in their echoing halls. There the
daughters of Celeus, son of Eleusis, saw her, as they were coming for
easy-drawn water, to carry it in pitchers of bronze to their dear
father’s house: four were they and like goddesses in the flower of
their girlhood, Callidice and Cleisidice and lovely Demo and Callithoe
who was the eldest of them all. They knew her not,—for the gods are not
easily discerned by mortals—but standing near by her spoke winged
words:
(ll. 113-117) ‘Old mother, whence and who are you of folk born long
ago? Why are you gone away from the city and do not draw near the
houses? For there in the shady halls are women of just such age as you,
and others younger; and they would welcome you both by word and by
deed.’
(ll. 118-144) Thus they said. And she, that queen among goddesses
answered them saying: ‘Hail, dear children, whosoever you are of
woman-kind. I will tell you my story; for it is not unseemly that I
should tell you truly what you ask. Doso is my name, for my stately
mother gave it me. And now I am come from Crete over the sea’s wide
back,—not willingly; but pirates brought me thence by force of strength
against my liking. Afterwards they put in with their swift craft to
Thoricus, and there the women landed on the shore in full throng and
the men likewise, and they began to make ready a meal by the
stern-cables of the ship. But my heart craved not pleasant food, and I
fled secretly across the dark country and escaped my masters, that they
should not take me unpurchased across the sea, there to win a price for
me. And so I wandered and am come here: and I know not at all what land
this is or what people are in it. But may all those who dwell on
Olympus give you husbands and birth of children as parents desire, so
you take pity on me, maidens, and show me this clearly that I may
learn, dear children, to the house of what man and woman I may go, to
work for them cheerfully at such tasks as belong to a woman of my age.
Well could I nurse a new born child, holding him in my arms, or keep
house, or spread my masters’ bed in a recess of the well-built chamber,
or teach the women their work.’
(ll. 145-146) So said the goddess. And straightway the unwed maiden
Callidice, goodliest in form of the daughters of Celeus, answered her
and said:
(ll. 147-168) ‘Mother, what the gods send us, we mortals bear perforce,
although we suffer; for they are much stronger than we. But now I will
teach you clearly, telling you the names of men who have great power
and honour here and are chief among the people, guarding our city’s
coif of towers by their wisdom and true judgements: there is wise
Triptolemus and Dioclus and Polyxeinus and blameless Eumolpus and
Dolichus and our own brave father. All these have wives who manage in
the house, and no one of them, so soon as she has seen you, would
dishonour you and turn you from the house, but they will welcome you;
for indeed you are godlike. But if you will, stay here; and we will go
to our father’s house and tell Metaneira, our deep-bosomed mother, all
this matter fully, that she may bid you rather come to our home than
search after the houses of others. She has an only son, late-born, who
is being nursed in our well-built house, a child of many prayers and
welcome: if you could bring him up until he reached the full measure of
youth, any one of womankind who should see you would straightway envy
you, such gifts would our mother give for his upbringing.’
(ll. 169-183) So she spake: and the goddess bowed her head in assent.
And they filled their shining vessels with water and carried them off
rejoicing. Quickly they came to their father’s great house and
straightway told their mother according as they had heard and seen.
Then she bade them go with all speed and invite the stranger to come
for a measureless hire. As hinds or heifers in spring time, when sated
with pasture, bound about a meadow, so they, holding up the folds of
their lovely garments, darted down the hollow path, and their hair like
a crocus flower streamed about their shoulders. And they found the good
goddess near the wayside where they had left her before, and led her to
the house of their dear father. And she walked behind, distressed in
her dear heart, with her head veiled and wearing a dark cloak which
waved about the slender feet of the goddess.
(ll. 184-211) Soon they came to the house of heaven-nurtured Celeus and
went through the portico to where their queenly mother sat by a pillar
of the close-fitted roof, holding her son, a tender scion, in her
bosom. And the girls ran to her. But the goddess walked to the
threshold: and her head reached the roof and she filled the doorway
with a heavenly radiance. Then awe and reverence and pale fear took
hold of Metaneira, and she rose up from her couch before Demeter, and
bade her be seated. But Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of
perfect gifts, would not sit upon the bright couch, but stayed silent
with lovely eyes cast down until careful Iambe placed a jointed seat
for her and threw over it a silvery fleece. Then she sat down and held
her veil in her hands before her face. A long time she sat upon the
stool 2506 without speaking because of her sorrow, and greeted no one
by word or by sign, but rested, never smiling, and tasting neither food
nor drink, because she pined with longing for her deep-bosomed
daughter, until careful Iambe—who pleased her moods in aftertime
also—moved the holy lady with many a quip and jest to smile and laugh
and cheer her heart. Then Metaneira filled a cup with sweet wine and
offered it to her; but she refused it, for she said it was not lawful
for her to drink red wine, but bade them mix meal and water with soft
mint and give her to drink. And Metaneira mixed the draught and gave it
to the goddess as she bade. So the great queen Deo received it to
observe the sacrament.... 2507
((LACUNA))
(ll. 212-223) And of them all, well-girded Metaneira first began to
speak: ‘Hail, lady! For I think you are not meanly but nobly born;
truly dignity and grace are conspicuous upon your eyes as in the eyes
of kings that deal justice. Yet we mortals bear perforce what the gods
send us, though we be grieved; for a yoke is set upon our necks. But
now, since you are come here, you shall have what I can bestow: and
nurse me this child whom the gods gave me in my old age and beyond my
hope, a son much prayed for. If you should bring him up until he reach
the full measure of youth, any one of womankind that sees you will
straightway envy you, so great reward would I give for his upbringing.’
(ll. 224-230) Then rich-haired Demeter answered her: ‘And to you, also,
lady, all hail, and may the gods give you good! Gladly will I take the
boy to my breast, as you bid me, and will nurse him. Never, I ween,
through any heedlessness of his nurse shall witchcraft hurt him nor yet
the Undercutter 2508: for I know a charm far stronger than the
Woodcutter, and I know an excellent safeguard against woeful
witchcraft.’
(ll. 231-247) When she had so spoken, she took the child in her
fragrant bosom with her divine hands: and his mother was glad in her
heart. So the goddess nursed in the palace Demophoon, wise Celeus’
goodly son whom well-girded Metaneira bare. And the child grew like
some immortal being, not fed with food nor nourished at the breast: for
by day rich-crowned Demeter would anoint him with ambrosia as if he
were the offspring of a god and breathe sweetly upon him as she held
him in her bosom. But at night she would hide him like a brand in the
heart of the fire, unknown to his dear parents. And it wrought great
wonder in these that he grew beyond his age; for he was like the gods
face to face. And she would have made him deathless and unageing, had
not well-girded Metaneira in her heedlessness kept watch by night from
her sweet-smelling chamber and spied. But she wailed and smote her two
hips, because she feared for her son and was greatly distraught in her
heart; so she lamented and uttered winged words:
(ll. 248-249) ‘Demophoon, my son, the strange woman buries you deep in
fire and works grief and bitter sorrow for me.’
(ll. 250-255) Thus she spoke, mourning. And the bright goddess,
lovely-crowned Demeter, heard her, and was wroth with her. So with her
divine hands she snatched from the fire the dear son whom Metaneira had
born unhoped-for in the palace, and cast him from her to the ground;
for she was terribly angry in her heart. Forthwith she said to
well-girded Metaneira:
(ll. 256-274) ‘Witless are you mortals and dull to foresee your lot,
whether of good or evil, that comes upon you. For now in your
heedlessness you have wrought folly past healing; for—be witness the
oath of the gods, the relentless water of Styx—I would have made your
dear son deathless and unageing all his days and would have bestowed on
him everlasting honour, but now he can in no way escape death and the
fates. Yet shall unfailing honour always rest upon him, because he lay
upon my knees and slept in my arms. But, as the years move round and
when he is in his prime, the sons of the Eleusinians shall ever wage
war and dread strife with one another continually. Lo! I am that
Demeter who has share of honour and is the greatest help and cause of
joy to the undying gods and mortal men. But now, let all the people
build me a great temple and an altar below it and beneath the city and
its sheer wall upon a rising hillock above Callichorus. And I myself
will teach my rites, that hereafter you may reverently perform them and
so win the favour of my heart.’
(ll. 275-281) When she had so said, the goddess changed her stature and
her looks, thrusting old age away from her: beauty spread round about
her and a lovely fragrance was wafted from her sweet-smelling robes,
and from the divine body of the goddess a light shone afar, while
golden tresses spread down over her shoulders, so that the strong house
was filled with brightness as with lightning. And so she went out from
the palace.
(ll. 281-291) And straightway Metaneira’s knees were loosed and she
remained speechless for a long while and did not remember to take up
her late-born son from the ground. But his sisters heard his pitiful
wailing and sprang down from their well-spread beds: one of them took
up the child in her arms and laid him in her bosom, while another
revived the fire, and a third rushed with soft feet to bring their
mother from her fragrant chamber. And they gathered about the
struggling child and washed him, embracing him lovingly; but he was not
comforted, because nurses and handmaids much less skilful were holding
him now.
(ll. 292-300) All night long they sought to appease the glorious
goddess, quaking with fear. But, as soon as dawn began to show, they
told powerful Celeus all things without fail, as the lovely-crowned
goddess Demeter charged them. So Celeus called the countless people to
an assembly and bade them make a goodly temple for rich-haired Demeter
and an altar upon the rising hillock. And they obeyed him right
speedily and harkened to his voice, doing as he commanded. As for the
child, he grew like an immortal being.
(ll. 301-320) Now when they had finished building and had drawn back
from their toil, they went every man to his house. But golden-haired
Demeter sat there apart from all the blessed gods and stayed, wasting
with yearning for her deep-bosomed daughter. Then she caused a most
dreadful and cruel year for mankind over the all-nourishing earth: the
ground would not make the seed sprout, for rich-crowned Demeter kept it
hid. In the fields the oxen drew many a curved plough in vain, and much
white barley was cast upon the land without avail. So she would have
destroyed the whole race of man with cruel famine and have robbed them
who dwell on Olympus of their glorious right of gifts and sacrifices,
had not Zeus perceived and marked this in his heart. First he sent
golden-winged Iris to call rich-haired Demeter, lovely in form. So he
commanded. And she obeyed the dark-clouded Son of Cronos, and sped with
swift feet across the space between. She came to the stronghold of
fragrant Eleusis, and there finding dark-cloaked Demeter in her temple,
spake to her and uttered winged words:
(ll. 321-323) ‘Demeter, father Zeus, whose wisdom is everlasting, calls
you to come join the tribes of the eternal gods: come therefore, and
let not the message I bring from Zeus pass unobeyed.’
(ll. 324-333) Thus said Iris imploring her. But Demeter’s heart was not
moved. Then again the father sent forth all the blessed and eternal
gods besides: and they came, one after the other, and kept calling her
and offering many very beautiful gifts and whatever right she might be
pleased to choose among the deathless gods. Yet no one was able to
persuade her mind and will, so wrath was she in her heart; but she
stubbornly rejected all their words: for she vowed that she would never
set foot on fragrant Olympus nor let fruit spring out of the ground,
until she beheld with her eyes her own fair-faced daughter.
(ll. 334-346) Now when all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer heard this,
he sent the Slayer of Argus whose wand is of gold to Erebus, so that
having won over Hades with soft words, he might lead forth chaste
Persephone to the light from the misty gloom to join the gods, and that
her mother might see her with her eyes and cease from her anger. And
Hermes obeyed, and leaving the house of Olympus, straightway sprang
down with speed to the hidden places of the earth. And he found the
lord Hades in his house seated upon a couch, and his shy mate with him,
much reluctant, because she yearned for her mother. But she was afar
off, brooding on her fell design because of the deeds of the blessed
gods. And the strong Slayer of Argus drew near and said:
(ll. 347-356) ‘Dark-haired Hades, ruler over the departed, father Zeus
bids me bring noble Persephone forth from Erebus unto the gods, that
her mother may see her with her eyes and cease from her dread anger
with the immortals; for now she plans an awful deed, to destroy the
weakly tribes of earthborn men by keeping seed hidden beneath the
earth, and so she makes an end of the honours of the undying gods. For
she keeps fearful anger and does not consort with the gods, but sits
aloof in her fragrant temple, dwelling in the rocky hold of Eleusis.’
(ll. 357-359) So he said. And Aidoneus, ruler over the dead, smiled
grimly and obeyed the behest of Zeus the king. For he straightway urged
wise Persephone, saying:
(ll. 360-369) ‘Go now, Persephone, to your dark-robed mother, go, and
feel kindly in your heart towards me: be not so exceedingly cast down;
for I shall be no unfitting husband for you among the deathless gods,
that am own brother to father Zeus. And while you are here, you shall
rule all that lives and moves and shall have the greatest rights among
the deathless gods: those who defraud you and do not appease your power
with offerings, reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts, shall
be punished for evermore.’
(ll. 370-383) When he said this, wise Persephone was filled with joy
and hastily sprang up for gladness. But he on his part secretly gave
her sweet pomegranate seed to eat, taking care for himself that she
might not remain continually with grave, dark-robed Demeter. Then
Aidoneus the Ruler of Many openly got ready his deathless horses
beneath the golden chariot. And she mounted on the chariot, and the
strong Slayer of Argos took reins and whip in his dear hands and drove
forth from the hall, the horses speeding readily. Swiftly they
traversed their long course, and neither the sea nor river-waters nor
grassy glens nor mountain-peaks checked the career of the immortal
horses, but they clave the deep air above them as they went. And Hermes
brought them to the place where rich-crowned Demeter was staying and
checked them before her fragrant temple.
(ll. 384-404) And when Demeter saw them, she rushed forth as does a
Maenad down some thick-wooded mountain, while Persephone on the other
side, when she saw her mother’s sweet eyes, left the chariot and
horses, and leaped down to run to her, and falling upon her neck,
embraced her. But while Demeter was still holding her dear child in her
arms, her heart suddenly misgave her for some snare, so that she feared
greatly and ceased fondling her daughter and asked of her at once: ‘My
child, tell me, surely you have not tasted any food while you were
below? Speak out and hide nothing, but let us both know. For if you
have not, you shall come back from loathly Hades and live with me and
your father, the dark-clouded Son of Cronos and be honoured by all the
deathless gods; but if you have tasted food, you must go back again
beneath the secret places of the earth, there to dwell a third part of
the seasons every year: yet for the two parts you shall be with me and
the other deathless gods. But when the earth shall bloom with the
fragrant flowers of spring in every kind, then from the realm of
darkness and gloom thou shalt come up once more to be a wonder for gods
and mortal men. And now tell me how he rapt you away to the realm of
darkness and gloom, and by what trick did the strong Host of Many
beguile you?’
(ll. 405-433) Then beautiful Persephone answered her thus: ‘Mother, I
will tell you all without error. When luck-bringing Hermes came, swift
messenger from my father the Son of Cronos and the other Sons of
Heaven, bidding me come back from Erebus that you might see me with
your eyes and so cease from your anger and fearful wrath against the
gods, I sprang up at once for joy; but he secretly put in my mouth
sweet food, a pomegranate seed, and forced me to taste against my will.
Also I will tell how he rapt me away by the deep plan of my father the
Son of Cronos and carried me off beneath the depths of the earth, and
will relate the whole matter as you ask. All we were playing in a
lovely meadow, Leucippe 2509 and Phaeno and Electra and Ianthe, Melita
also and Iache with Rhodea and Callirhoe and Melobosis and Tyche and
Ocyrhoe, fair as a flower, Chryseis, Ianeira, Acaste and Admete and
Rhodope and Pluto and charming Calypso; Styx too was there and Urania
and lovely Galaxaura with Pallas who rouses battles and Artemis
delighting in arrows: we were playing and gathering sweet flowers in
our hands, soft crocuses mingled with irises and hyacinths, and
rose-blooms and lilies, marvellous to see, and the narcissus which the
wide earth caused to grow yellow as a crocus. That I plucked in my joy;
but the earth parted beneath, and there the strong lord, the Host of
Many, sprang forth and in his golden chariot he bore me away, all
unwilling, beneath the earth: then I cried with a shrill cry. All this
is true, sore though it grieves me to tell the tale.’
(ll. 434-437) So did they turn, with hearts at one, greatly cheer each
the other’s soul and spirit with many an embrace: their heart had
relief from their griefs while each took and gave back joyousness.
(ll. 438-440) Then bright-coiffed Hecate came near to them, and often
did she embrace the daughter of holy Demeter: and from that time the
lady Hecate was minister and companion to Persephone.
(ll. 441-459) And all-seeing Zeus sent a messenger to them, rich-haired
Rhea, to bring dark-cloaked Demeter to join the families of the gods:
and he promised to give her what right she should choose among the
deathless gods and agreed that her daughter should go down for the
third part of the circling year to darkness and gloom, but for the two
parts should live with her mother and the other deathless gods. Thus he
commanded. And the goddess did not disobey the message of Zeus; swiftly
she rushed down from the peaks of Olympus and came to the plain of
Rharus, rich, fertile corn-land once, but then in nowise fruitful, for
it lay idle and utterly leafless, because the white grain was hidden by
design of trim-ankled Demeter. But afterwards, as springtime waxed, it
was soon to be waving with long ears of corn, and its rich furrows to
be loaded with grain upon the ground, while others would already be
bound in sheaves. There first she landed from the fruitless upper air:
and glad were the goddesses to see each other and cheered in heart.
Then bright-coiffed Rhea said to Demeter:
(ll. 460-469) ‘Come, my daughter; for far-seeing Zeus the
loud-thunderer calls you to join the families of the gods, and has
promised to give you what rights you please among the deathless gods,
and has agreed that for a third part of the circling year your daughter
shall go down to darkness and gloom, but for the two parts shall be
with you and the other deathless gods: so has he declared it shall be
and has bowed his head in token. But come, my child, obey, and be not
too angry unrelentingly with the dark-clouded Son of Cronos; but rather
increase forthwith for men the fruit that gives them life.’
(ll. 470-482) So spake Rhea. And rich-crowned Demeter did not refuse
but straightway made fruit to spring up from the rich lands, so that
the whole wide earth was laden with leaves and flowers. Then she went,
and to the kings who deal justice, Triptolemus and Diocles, the
horse-driver, and to doughty Eumolpus and Celeus, leader of the people,
she showed the conduct of her rites and taught them all her mysteries,
to Triptolemus and Polyxeinus and Diocles also,—awful mysteries which
no one may in any way transgress or pry into or utter, for deep awe of
the gods checks the voice. Happy is he among men upon earth who has
seen these mysteries; but he who is uninitiate and who has no part in
them, never has lot of like good things once he is dead, down in the
darkness and gloom.
(ll. 483-489) But when the bright goddess had taught them all, they
went to Olympus to the gathering of the other gods. And there they
dwell beside Zeus who delights in thunder, awful and reverend
goddesses. Right blessed is he among men on earth whom they freely
love: soon they do send Plutus as guest to his great house, Plutus who
gives wealth to mortal men.
(ll. 490-495) And now, queen of the land of sweet Eleusis and sea-girt
Paros and rocky Antron, lady, giver of good gifts, bringer of seasons,
queen Deo, be gracious, you and your daughter all beauteous Persephone,
and for my song grant me heart-cheering substance. And now I will
remember you and another song also.