# The Odyssey of Homer, with the Hymns, Epigrams, and Battle of the Frogs and Mice/Hymns/Hymn 32

XXXII. TO CERES.
I begin to sing fair-haired Ceres, a hallowed goddess, herself and her long-ancled daughter, whom Pluto snatched away (but heavily-thundering, far-seeing Jove gave her) from ​golden-sworded Ceres, renowned for fruits, as she was sporting with the deep-bosomed daughters of Oceanus, and culling flowers through the soft meadow, roses, and crocus, and beauteous violets, and iris, and hyacinths, and narcissus, which earth, at the behest of Jove, brought forth as a snare to the virgin, favouring the Many-receiver, wondrously flourishing, a marvel then for all to behold, both immortal gods and mortal men. And from its root a hundred heads sprang forth, and the whole wide heaven above was scented with its fragrance, and the whole earth laughed, and the briny wave of the sea. But she, astonished, stretched out both her hands to seize the pretty plaything; but the wide-wayed earth gaped in the Mysian plain, where the many-receiving king, the many-named son of Saturn, leaped forth with his immortal steeds, and having snatched away her unwilling in his golden chariot, he led her away weeping, and she shrieked aloud with her voice, calling upon her supreme and best sire, the son of Saturn. But no one of the immortals nor of mortal men heard her voice, no, nor the olives with their rich fruit, save only the daughter of Perseus, mild in spirit, light-veiled Hecate, who heard her from her cave, and the king Sun, the glorious son of Hyperion, [heard] the girl calling on her Saturn-descended sire. But he said apart, away from the gods, in his well-fastened temple, receiving beauteous offerings from mortal men. But her father's brother, the Many-receiver, who rules over many, the many-named son of Saturn, bore her away against her will with his immortal steeds. Now as long as the goddess beheld the earth and the starry heaven, and the much-flowing fishy sea, and the rays of the sun, and still hoped to behold her careful mother, and the tribes of the gods who are for ever, so long did hope soften her mighty mind, although grieving. But the heights of the ​mountains and the depths of the sea resounded with her immortal voice, and her revered mother heard her. And quickly grief seized her mind, and with her hands she rent the veil above her ambrosial locks, and cast the dark-blue raiment from both her shoulders, and she rushed, like a bird, o'er dry and wet, seeking her; but to her no one either of gods or mortal men was willing to tell the truth, nor did any one of birds [of augury] come to her as a true messenger. Then for nine days did hallowed Ceres perambulate the earth, bearing blazing torches in her hands, nor ever did she, grieving, taste ambrosia or sweet-drinking nectar, nor lave her form in the bath. But when indeed to her the tenth shining morn had come, Hecate met her, bearing a light in her hands, and bringing news, spoke to and addressed her.
"Revered Ceres, bearer of seasons, giver of glorious things, who of the heavenly gods or mortal men has snatched away Proserpine, and grieved thy dear mind? For I heard her voice, but I perceived not with mine eyes who it was. But quickly could he tell thee all truly * * * *."
Thus then spake Hecate, but her the daughter of fair-haired Rhea answered not in words, but quickly sped forth with her, bearing lighted torches in her hands. And they went to the Sun, the surveyor both of men and gods, and they stood in front of his steeds, and the divine one of goddesses asked [him]:
"O Sun, compassionate me on behalf of a goddess, if ever either by word or deed I have gratified thy heart and mind. My daughter whom I bore, a sweet blossom, beauteous in form, whose frequent cries I have heard through the unfruitful air, as though she were being forced away, but I have not beheld her with mine eyes—but do thou (for thou from the divine æther dost look down with thy rays upon all the earth and sea) tell me truly, dear son, if thou hast any where seen him, of the gods or mortal men, who, without my consent, has seized her perforce, and carried her off."
Thus she spoke, but her the son of Hyperion answered in discourse: "Daughter of fair-haired Rhea, queen Ceres, thou ​shalt know; for I indeed grieve for and pity thee much, sorrowing for thy slender-ancled daughter. But no other of the immortals is guilty, save only cloud-compelling Jove, who has given her to his own brother Hades, to be called his blooming wife. And he, having snatched her away with his steeds, has led her, loudly shrieking, beneath the murky darkness. But come, O goddess, cease thy great wrath. It in no wise behoves thee vainly to entertain boundless wrath. Pluto, who rules over many, is by no means an unseemly kinsman [to have] among the immortals, thine own brother and of the same seed. And he has moreover obtained a prerogative, when division was first made threefold by lot; he dwells among those of whom he is appointed master by lot."
Thus having spoken, he cheered on his steeds, and they, at his exhortation, swiftly bore along the fleet chariot, like wing-expanding birds. But upon her mind a more sad and ruder grief fell, and then, enraged at the dark-clouded son of Saturn, going apart from the council of the gods and mighty Olympus, she went to the cities and rich fields of men, obscuring her form for a long time. Nor did any one of men or deep-bosomed women, seeing, recognise her, before that she came to the dwelling of prudent Celeus, who was at that time the ruler of sweet-scented Eleusis. And she sat near the way-side, saddened at heart, by the Parthenian well, whence the citizens drew their water, in the shade, (but above her there was an olive tree,) like unto an aged old woman, who is shut off both from child-birth, and from the gifts of crown-loving Venus, such as are the nurses of the children of law-administering kings, and housekeepers in their echoing dwellings. But the daughters of Eleusinian Celeus perceived her as they were coming for clear-flowing water, that they might bear it in golden ewers to the beloved dwellings of their sire, four [in number], like goddesses, possessing the flower of youth, ​Callidice, and Clisidice, and lovely Demo, and Callithoe, who was the eldest of them all. But they knew her not, for difficult are the gods for mortals to behold; but standing near, they addressed [to her] winged words:
"Who, whence art thou, old woman, among ancient-born men? And why hast thou walked far away from the city, nor dost approach the dwellings, where there are women of thine own age in the shady abodes, even as thou art, and younger ones also, who, forsooth, may receive thee kindly in word and deed?"
Thus they spoke, but she, hallowed one of goddesses, answered in words: "Dear children, whoever ye are of the sex of women, hail! But I will tell my story to you. It is by no means unfitting to tell the truth to you who ask. My name indeed is Dos, for this my revered brother gave me. But now have I come not willingly upon the wide back of the sea, but pirates by compulsion led me away unwilling. They then put to at Thoricus in their swift ship, where numerous women disembarked upon the mainland, and they themselves made ready supper near the halsers of the ship. But my mind cared not for the pleasant feast, but privily setting out through the dark mainland, I fled from my overbearing masters, that they might not enjoy my price, having sold me [purchased] for nothing. Thus have I come hither, wandering, nor know I aught what land this is, and who are its inhabitants. But to you may all those who possess the Olympian dwellings grant blooming husbands, and to bring forth children, as parents are wont to wish! But take pity on me, ye damsels, kindly, dear children, until I reach the dwelling of a man and woman, that I may willingly work for them in such things as are the business of an aged woman. And truly I could nicely nurse a young infant, having him in mine arms, and could take care of the house, and could spread my master's bed in the recess of the well-built chambers, and could manage* the works of woman." The goddess spoke, but ​her the untouched virgin Callidice, most beauteous in form of the daughters of Celeus, forthwith answered:
"O nurse, we mortals must needs endure the lot given us by the gods, although grieving, for they indeed are much more powerful [than we]. But this will I clearly suggest to thee, and will name the men to whom there is here great power of dignity, and who take the lead among the people, and by counsels and upright judgments guard the battlements of the city. There is shrewd-counselling Triptolemus, and Diocles, and Polyxeines, and blameless Eumolpus, and Dolichus, and our noble sire, all whose wives tend their houses; not one of whom at first sight despising thy appearance, would dismiss thee from her dwellings, but they will receive thee, for truly thou art godlike. But if thou wilt, remain, that we may go to the abode of our sire, and tell all these matters thoroughly to our deep-bosomed mother Metaneira, if perchance she will bid thee come to our dwelling and not seek for the house of another. And a darling son is nurtured by her in the well-built house, a subject of many prayers, and beloved. If thou couldst train him up, and he should reach the measure of youth, with reason indeed would any one of the race of women, seeing, envy thee; such great rewards for thy nursing would he give thee." Thus she spoke, but [the goddess] nodded assent; and they, having filled the vessels with water, bore them rejoicing. And quickly they reached the great house of their sire, and soon told their mother what they had both seen and heard. But she immediately bade them go and call her with [a promise of] boundless hire. And they, like as hinds or heifers gambol through the meadow in the season of spring, having satiated their mind with food,so they, uplifting the folds of their beauteous robes, sped along ​the waggon-furrowed way, and about their shoulders their curls, like unto the crocus flower, sported. And near the way they found the renowned goddess, where they had left her before. But then they led her to the dwelling of their sire, and she, sorrowing at heart, followed behind them, with her head veiled, and the dark robe shook loosely around the tender feet of the goddess. And quickly they reached the house of Jove-nurtured Celeus, and went through the portico, where their hallowed mother awaited them by the lintel of the well-built tenement, having her son, a young off-shoot, at her bosom. But they ran up to her, and she came to the threshold on her feet, and truly she reached the top of the dwelling, and filled the doors with divine light. But admiration, and wonder, and pallid fear possessed her, and she yielded up her seat, and bade her be seated. But season-bearing Ceres, of glorious gifts, was not willing to be seated on the shining seat, but she remained silent, casting down her beauteous eyes, until at length Iambe, knowing prudent things, offered her a compact seat, and above it spread a silver-woven fleece. Here sitting down, she stretched forth her veil [over her face] with her hands, and for a long time sat speechless, grieving, in her seat, nor did she apply herself to any word or deed, but without a smile, unfed or by food or drink, she sat, wasting away with longing for her deep-bosomed daughter; until that Iambe, knowing prudent things, much joking her with banterings, turned the hallowed, holy [goddess] to smile, and to laugh, and to have an appeased mind. Here, in after-times also, she pleased her with orgies. And to her Metaneira gave a cup of sweet wine, having filled it; but she refused it, "for," said she, "it was not lawful for her to drink the ruby wine;" but she bade her, having mixed wheat and water with pounded pennyroyal, give it her to drink. But she, having made the mixture, gave it to the goddess, as she commanded, and all-hallowed Ceres, having received it, obtained the sacred honour. But to them well-girt Metaneira began discourse:
"Hail! lady, since I deem that thou art not from mean parents, but good ones, since modesty and grace are conspicuous in thy countenance, like as [among the descendants] of law-administering kings. But we men must needs endure the lot given by the gods, although grieving; for the yoke lies ​upon our neck. And now, since thou hast come hither, thine shall be whatever is mine. But cherish for me this boy, whom born late, and unhoped-for, the immortals have bestowed [on us], and to me he is a subject of many prayers. If thou wilt train him up, and he reach the measure of youth, with reason will any one of womankind, seeing, envy thee, such great gifts will I give thee for his nursing." But her in turn well-crowned Ceres addressed:
"And thou too, lady, all hail! and may the gods grant thee good things. But I will willingly receive thy boy, as thou biddest me, to nurture, nor, I trust, will charms harm him, nor [deadly] plant, through the carelessness of his nurse. For I know a remedy much more efficacious †than wood cutting,† and I know an excellent antidote for baleful spells."
Thus having spoken, she received him in her fragrant bosom and immortal hands, and his mother rejoiced in mind. Thus she indeed trained up in the palace Demophoon, the glorious son of prudent Celeus, whom well-girt Metaneira bore. But he grew up like unto a god, neither eating food nor sucking. But Ceres anointed him with ambrosia, as though sprung from a god, breathing sweetly upon him, and having him in her bosom. But at night she concealed him in the might of fire, like a brand, without the knowledge of his dear parents. But to them he was a great marvel, how bloomingly he sprang up, and was like unto the gods in person. And truly she would have rendered him free from old age, and immortal, unless well-girt Metaneira, in her folly, watching by night, had looked out from her perfumed chamber, and shrieked, and smitten both her thighs, fearing for her son, and she was greatly disturbed in mind, and bewailing, she addressed winged words: "My child Demophoon, ​the strange woman is concealing thee in a great fire, but to me she causes groans and grievous sorrows." Thus she spoke, weeping, and the divine one of goddesses heard her. But fair-crowned Ceres, enraged with her, put from her to the ground with her immortal hands the dear son, whom, unhoped-for, she had brought forth in the palace, having taken him out of the fire, being very wrathful in mind, and at the same time she addressed well-girt Metaneira:
"Ignorant and unwise men, who neither foresee the destiny of coming good nor evil! And thou, too, by thy folly hast erred most greatly. For let the pledge of the gods bear witness, the water of the Styx that yields no forgiveness, I would have made thy dear son immortal and free from age for all days, and would have afforded him unperishing honour. But now it is not possible for him to escape death and the Fates; but unperishing honour shall always be his, because he has sat upon my knees, and slept in mine arms. But when he is of age, in revolving years, the sons of the Eleusinians will ever throughout all days stir up battle and grievous conflict among each other. But I am honoured Ceres, who is the greatest benefit and joy to immortals and mortals. But come, let all the people build for me a great temple, and under it an altar, below the city and the lofty wall, above Callichorus, upon the jutting hill. But I myself will teach my orgies, so that hereafter, performing them holily, ye may appease my mind."
Thus having spoken, the goddess changed her magnitude and mien, having put off old age, and beauty was breathed around her, and a pleasant odour was scattered from her scented robes, and far gleamed the light from the immortal flesh of the goddess, and her yellow curls flourished on her shoulders, and the close dwelling was filled with the sheen, as of lightning. And she went out from the palace. But straightway the knees [of Metaneira] were relaxed, and for a long time she became speechless, nor did she at all bethink her of her darling son, to take him up from the ground. But his sisters heard his piteous voice, and they leaped up from their well-spread couches. One then, taking up the boy in ​her hands, placed him in her bosom, but another kindled the fire, and another ran with her tender feet to raise up her mother from the fragrant chamber. And gathering around him, they washed him, tending him yet panting, but his mind was not comforted, for inferior nurses and attendants now possessed him. They indeed, trembling with fear, kept appeasing the renowned goddess throughout the night, but together with the dawn appearing they told truly to Celeus of wide power, how the goddess, fair-crowned Ceres, had commanded. But he, having summoned the numerous people into council, ordered them to erect a rich temple to fair-haired Ceres, and an altar, upon the jutting hill. But they immediately obeyed, and hearkened to him speaking, and they built, as he commanded; but he kept increasing by the will of the deity. But when they had finished, and rested from their toil, they went each one homewards. But yellow-haired Ceres, sitting down here, far apart from all the blessed gods, remained, wasting away with longing for her deep-bosomed daughter. And she rendered that year a most grievous and cruel one for men upon the many-nurturing earth, nor did the earth give forth any seed, for well-crowned Ceres concealed it. And the steers dragged many bent ploughs over the fields to no purpose, and much white barley fell upon the earth in vain. And she indeed would have destroyed the whole race of articulate-voiced men by grievous famine, and would have deprived those possessing the Olympian dwellings of the glorious honour of gifts and sacrifices, had not Jove perceived, and taken counsel in his mind. And he first sent golden-pinioned Iris to call fair-haired Ceres, possessing a most lovely appearance. Thus he spake; but she obeyed dark-clouded Jove, the son of Saturn, and swiftly ran through the mid way with her feet. And she reached the city of incense-fraught Eleusis, and found dark-robed Ceres in the temple, and having addressed her, spoke winged words:
"O Ceres, thy father Jove, knowing imperishable [counsels], calls thee to come to the tribes of the gods who are for ever. But come, nor let my message from Jove be unaccomplished. Thus she spoke; but her mind was not persuaded. Again then [Jove] sent on all the blessed ever-existing gods. And they, coming one after another, called her, and gave ​many beauteous gifts and honours, whatever she wished to choose among the immortals. But no one was able to persuade her mind and inclination, wrathful in mind; but she obstinately rejected their discourse. "For never," said she, "would she step upon incense-fraught Olympus, nor let forth the fruit of the earth, before she should behold her fair-faced daughter with her eyes." But when heavy-thundering, far-seeing Jove heard this, he sent the golden-wanded slayer of Argus down into Erebus, in order that, having beguiled Hades by soft words, he might lead away chaste Proserpine from the murky darkness to the gods, that her mother, having beheld her, might cease from her wrath. But Mercury was not disobedient, but straightway sped briskly beneath the earth, having left the dwelling of Olympus. And he found the king within his abode, sitting on a couch with his chaste spouse, who was grieving much through longing for her mother; but she, on account of the shameful deeds of the gods, devised a destructive counsel.
Then the bold slayer of Argus, standing near, addressed him: "Dark-haired Hades, who rulest over the dead, the sire, Jove, bids thee lead forth noble Proserpine from Erebus to their company, that her mother, having beheld her, may cease from her wrath and bitter anger against the immortals; since she devises a dreadful deed, to destroy the weakly tribes of earth-born men, concealing the seed beneath the ground, and wasting away the honours of the immortals. But she cherishes grievous wrath, and does not associate with the gods, but sits afar off within her incense-fraught temple, possessing the rocky city of Eleusis." Thus he spoke, but Pluto, king of the dead, smiled from beneath his eyebrows, and did not disobey the behest of king Jove. And quickly he bade prudent Proserpine [thus]: "Go, Proserpine, to thy dark-robed mother, having a mild spirit and disposition in ​thy breast, nor do thou give way to sadness excessively beyond others: In no wise shall I be an unseemly consort among the immortals, [being] own brother of sire Jove. Coming hither, thou shalt be mistress of all beings, as many as live and walk, and thou shalt ever possess the greatest honours among the immortals. And there shall for all days be judgment upon those who have done injury, who do not appease thy power with sacrifices, piously performing them, offering suitable gifts."
Thus he spoke, but prudent Proserpine rejoiced, and quickly leaped forth through joy. But he had privily given her the sweet grain of a pomegranate to eat, offering it her in private, that she might not remain all days above with hallowed Ceres, of dark robes. And Pluto, who rules over many, yoked his steeds in front beneath the golden chariot, and she mounted the chariot, and by her the strong slayer of Argus, seizing the bridles and scourge in his hands, drove [the steeds] straight out from the abodes, and they twain flew along not unwillingly. And swiftly they passed o'er the long tracks, nor did the sea, nor the water of rivers, nor the grassy valleys, nor the heights, restrain the rush of the immortal steeds, but they cut through the deep darkness above them, as they went. And he stopped driving them, where well-crowned Ceres stood, before the incense-fraught temple. But she, perceiving, leaped forward, like a mænad on the shaded mountain of a wood. * * * * * ********
"And thou shalt dwell with me and thy sire, the dark-clouded son of Saturn, honoured by all the immortals. But if thou hast tasted [aught], again going beneath the hiding-places ​of the earth, thou wilt dwell the third part of the year * *, but the [other] two with me and the other immortals. But when the earth flourishes with all kinds of sweet-scented spring flowers, then again shalt thou return back from the murky darkness, a mighty marvel to gods and mortal men. * * * * And by what stratagem did the strong Many-receiver beguile thee?" But her beauteous Proserpine addressed in turn: "Therefore will I tell thee all things truly, mother. When beneficial Mercury, the swift messenger, came from the Saturnian sire and the other gods, then he led me out from Erebus, that thou, having beheld me with thine eyes, mightest cease from thy wrath and grievous anger against the immortals, but I leaped forth for joy. But [my husband] privily threw to me the grain of a pomegranate, pleasant to eat, and compelled me perforce, against my will, to taste it. But how, having snatched me away through the cunning device of my sire, the son of Saturn, he went bearing me beneath the hiding-places of the earth, I will speak out, and detail all things, as thou askest. We indeed were all at play in the pleasant meadow, Leucippe, and Phœno, and Electra, and Ianthe, and Melite, and Iacche, and Rhæa, and Callirrhoe, and Melobate, and Tyche, and rosy Ocyrrhoe, and Chryseis, and Ianeira, and Acaste, and Admeta, and Rhodope, and Pluto, and lovely Calypso, and Styx, and Urania, and lovely Galaxyre, and battle-rousing Pallas, and arrow-rejoicing Diana, and were plucking the pleasant flowers with our hands, the beauteous crocus, and the iris, and hyacinth, and the rosebuds, and the lilies, a marvel to behold, and the narcissus, which, like the crocus, the wide earth produced. But I was ​plucking them with joy, when the earth yawned beneath and out leaped the strong king, the Many-receiver, and went bearing me beneath the earth in his golden chariot, grieving much, and I cried aloud with my voice. These things have I told thee all truly, although grieving."
Thus then indeed they, having a concordant mind, mutually fondling each other, greatly appeased the heart and mind of each other, and the mind [of both] was rested from sorrows. And they received and gave delights mutually. But near to them came delicately-veiled Hecate, and much she fondled the chaste daughter of Ceres, because the queen had been her attendant and servant. But to them loud-thundering, far-seeing Jove sent a messenger, fair-haired Rhea, to bring dark-robed Ceres to the tribes of the gods, and he pledged himself to give her honours, whatever she might choose among the immortal gods. And he granted to her that her daughter should pass the third part of the revolving year under the murky darkness, but the two [other parts] with her mother and the other immortals. Thus he spake, nor did the goddess disobey the message of Jove, but she quickly sprang forth from the heights of Olympus, and she came to the Rarian [plain], heretofore the life-bearing udder of corn-land, but then no longer affording sustenance, but it remained idle and leafless, and concealed the white barley, by the contrivance of fair-ancled Ceres; but it was then destined forthwith to bloom with long ears, as the spring advanced, and the rich furrows to abound in ears, and there to be bound in bundles. Here she first descended from the unfruitful air. But gladly they beheld each other, and rejoiced in mind; and her fair-veiled Rhea first addressed: "Hither, child, loud-thundering, far-seeing Jove calls thee to come to the tribes of the gods, and he has pledged himself to give thee honour, whatsoever thou mayest choose amongst the immortal gods. And he has consented that thy daughter [shall pass] the third part of the revolving year beneath the ​murky darkness, but the [other] two with thee and the other immortals, * * * But come, child, and obey, nor be thou too immoderately wrathful against the dark-clouded son of Saturn. And straightway increase the life-bearing fruit for men."
Thus she spoke, nor did well-crowned Ceres disobey; but she straightway sent forth the fruit from the rich-soiled fields. And all the wide earth was weighed down with leaves and flowers; and she went to the law-administering kings, Triptolemus, and horse-goading Diocles, and the might of Eumolpus, and Celeus, leader of the people, and showed [them] the performance of her sacred rites, and she appointed her hallowed orgies for all, for Triptolemus, and Polyxenius, and moreover, Diocles, which it is in no wise lawful either to neglect, or to inquire into, or mention, for a mighty reverence of the gods restrains the voice. Blest is he of mortal men who has beheld these, for he who is initiated, and he who partakes not in these rites, have by no means the same fortune, although dead, beneath the murky darkness. But when the divine one of goddesses had suggested all, they set out to go to Olympus, to the assembly of the other gods. And here they dwell by thunder-rejoicing Jove, both venerable and revered. Greatly blessed is he, whomsoever of mortal men, they love with a kindly mind, and straightway they send to the hearth of his noble dwelling Plutus, who affords riches to mortal men.
But come, ye who possess the state of incense-fraught Eleusis, and sea-girt Paros, and rocky Antron, hallowed, the giver of glorious gifts, bearer of seasons, queen Ceres, thyself, and thy all-beauteous daughter Proserpine, willingly grant me a pleasant life for my song. But I will be mindful of thee and of another song.
* ↑ I have placed this hymn, and the fragment of the hymn to Bacchus, at the end of the rest, in order to prevent any difficulty of reference to the ordinary editions of Homer. The student will, I think, find this hymn immeasurably superior to the rest both in interest, variety, and poetic spirit. Grote, vol. i. p. 55, after an admirable analysis of its contents, elegantly observes: "It is interesting not less as a picture of the Mater Dolorosa, (in the mouth of an Athenian, Dêmêtêr and Persephonê were always The Mother and Daughter, by excellence,) first an agonized sufferer, and then finally glorified,—the weal and woe of men being dependent upon her kindly feeling,—than as an illustration of the nature and growth of Grecian legend generally. Though we now read this hymn as pleasing poetry, to the Eleusinians, for whom it was composed, it was genuine and sacred history. They believed in the visit of Dêmêtêr to Eleusis, and in the mysteries as a revelation from her, as implicitly as they believed in her existence and power as a goddess."
* ↑ Or "far-sounding." Hesych. t. ii. p. 1528, ἢ τὸν μεγάλως ἐφορῶντα· οἱ δὲ τὸν μεγάλους ἤχους ἀποτελοῦντα, διὰ τῶν βροντῶν.
* ↑ This epithet has given rise to much doubt, and Ruhnken seems to be right in reading Χροσοθρόνου. Lucas translates: "———who widely wields Her golden sceptre o'er the fruitful fields."
* ↑ Pluto or Hades.
* ↑ Ruhnken is very dissatisfied with the mention of olives here, and, considering that an animate object ought to be mentioned, he would read οὐδ' ἀγλαόμορφοι ἑταῖραι. Lucas defends it, observing, "nothing is more common with poets than to feign an attention in mountains, woods, rivers, &c, to persons singing or bewailing." He compares Virg. Ecl. x. 8.
* ↑ i. e. land and sea. Cf. Rittersh. on Oppian. Cyn. i. 11.
* ↑ Hermann thinks that the lacuna should probably be filled up thus; σοὶ δ' ὦκα λέγοι νημ. πάντα Ἡέλιος, ὃς παντ' ἐφορᾷ καὶ πάντ' ἐπακούει.
* ↑ i. e. her daughter. See Hermann.
* ↑ Hermann well reads, χόλον for γόον, observing, "verba οὐδέ τι σε χρὴ semper apud Homerum prœgressam orationem repetunt." Il. xix. 67; vii. 209, 492, &c. This somewhat resembles the parallelism of the Hebrew poetry. See Hengstenberg in Barnes's Preface to his Notes on Isaiah, § 8, p. 54, sqq. ed. Cumming.
* ↑ The beautiful simplicity of this narrative justifies a comparison with Genes. xxiv. 11, sqq.
* ↑ Cf. Eur. Hippol. 121, sqq.
* ↑ Matthiæ would read φίλου, without necessity.
* ↑ I read φίλ' αἵτινες, with La Fontaine.
* ↑ See Ruhnken.
* ↑ Hermann says there is a lacuna: "nam ipsos nautos dixisset navem reliquisse antequam cibum caperent, ut Od. ix. 85; x. 56; xv. 498."
* ↑ This seems to be the sense of ἀπριάτην.
* ↑ But I am strongly prepossessed in favour of the elegant emendation of Voss, ἔργα διδασκήσαιμι.
* ↑ δῶρα θεῶν is not here used in a good sense, as in Plato, Tim. p. 533. D. Læm. Jamblich. V. P. 6. p. 23. Simplic. in Epictet. 29. p. 125. Theodor. Melit. apud Fabric. Bibl. Gr. t. ix. p. 199. Sotadis apud Stob. 43, p. 151, 49. Athenag. de Resurr. p. 23. It rather means "quidquid divinitus fit."
* ↑ For the sake of avoiding baldness, I have turned these into nominatives. They however depend upon κράτος τιμῆς, "tanquam si dixisset ὧν ἐστὶ κράτος ἐνθάδε τιμῆς." Herm.
* ↑ Hermann compares Lucret. i. 259,—"hinc nova proles Artibus infirmis teneras lasciva per herbas Ludit, lacte mero mentes percussa novellas."
* ↑ I read ὁσίης ἐπέβη, with Voss.
* ↑ Perhaps δοιή would be better. But see Hermann.
* ↑ I read θρέψαι, with Herm., who compares Hesiod, Theog. 479.
* ↑ I can make nothing of οὔθ' ὑποταμνόν, nor can Ruhnken. I have followed Liddell's interpretation, "plant cut off at the root for magical purposes," but am by no means satisfied.
* ↑ See Hermann.
* ↑ Apollodorus, i. 5, says that he actually perished in the fire. "The same story is told in regard to the infant Achilles. His mother Thetis was taking similar measures to render him immortal, when his father Peleus interfered and prevented the consummation. Thetis immediately left him in great wrath (Apollon. Rhod. iv. 866)." Grote, p. 53.
* ↑ Hermann reads συνάξουσ', and places a mark of lacuna after this verse.
* ↑ Cf. Virg. Æn. i. 406, sqq.
* ↑ The son of Celeus.
* ↑ i. e. in withholding the fruits of the earth. I have adopted Hermann's emendation,ἣ δ' ἐπ' ἀλάστοις Ἔργοισιν μακάρων ὀλοὴν μητίετο βουλήν. He compares Hesych. ἄλαστα· ἄτλητα. In a copy of Ruhnken's edition in the British Museum, the late Charles Burney has conjectured, ἡ γ' ἐπὶ ἔργοις Ἀτλήτοισι θεῶν πυκινην ἐφρ. βουλήν.
* ↑ i. e. to the assembly of the other gods.
* ↑ Read λήξειεν, with Hermann, and Burney in note MS.
* ↑ Hermann reads τιμὰς δ' αἰὲν ἔχησθα, observing, "si genuina est codicis scriptura, (i. e. τιμὰς δὲ σχήσησθα,) exemplum habemus futuri conjunctivi, contra grammaticorum sententiam."
* ↑ Read αὐτῇ, with Voss.
* ↑ I have done my best with Hermann's correction, ἀμφὶς νωμήσας, but am by no means satisfied.
* ↑ Burney, in note MS., would read αὐράων for αὐτάων.
* ↑ Here the MS. is mutilated: the meeting of the mother and daughter, and the inquiries of the former, whether Proserpine, by eating any thing, had rendered herself subject to the dominion of the shades, formed the missing portion.
* ↑ Read εἰ δ' ἐπάσω, with Wyttenb., Ruhnk., Herm.
* ↑ For conjectures as to the supplying of this line, see Ruhnken and Hermann.
* ↑ I prefer εἴαρος ὥρῃ, with La Fontaine.
* ↑ Here there is evidently a lacuna, as Ruhnken observes, to whom τίνι σ' ἐξαπάτησε is due.
* ↑ Read ἦγε δέ μ' ἐξ Ἐρέβευς, ἵνα μ', with Herm.
* ↑ But see Hermann.
* ↑ A nymph, not Hades.
* ↑ Read μίγδα κρόκον τ' ἀγανὸν, with Voss.
* ↑ This is very tame. Hermann reads ὥσπερ κόνιν, "abundant as the dust," comparing Il. ix. 385, οὐδ' εἴ μοι τόσα δοίη, ὅσα ψάμαθος τε κόνις τε. Burney in note MS., proposes ὃν ἔφυσεν ἐΰχροον.
* ↑ Read γηθοσύνας—ἔδιδόν τε, with Ruhnken.
* ↑ I scarcely understand this line.
* ↑ It is important for the student to remember that Ράριος is the only Greek word beginning with ρ, that is not aspirated. See Schol. Venet. on Il. i. 56.
* ↑ Hermann says that ὄγμοι is "de segete demessa intelligendum."
* ↑ I follow Hermann's supplement from vs. 447. The next fragments of lines are a mistaken interpolation from 448—450, as the same scholar observes. But see his whole note.
* ↑ Read δεῐξεν for εἶπε, from Pausanias, Corinth. 14. See Ruhnken.
* ↑ I read οὔτε χανεῖν, with Ilgen, and Burney, note MS., and ἄγος, with Valckenaer.
* ↑ I read ὃς δ' ἀτελὴς ἱερῶν, ὅς τ' ἔμμορος, "dispar conditio initiatorum est et non initiatorum," with Hermann.
* ↑ Read ἀλλ' ἄγ', with Ruhnken.