HKB
But in their midst Fair Clymene was telling o'er the tale Of Vulcan's idle vigilance and the stealth Of Mars' sweet rapine, and from Chaos old Counted the jostling love-joys of the Gods. Charmed by whose lay, the while their woolly tasks With spindles down they drew, yet once again Smote on his mother's ears the mournful plaint Of Aristaeus; on their glassy thrones Amazement held them all; but Arethuse Before the rest put forth her auburn head, Peering above the wave-top, and from far Exclaimed, "Cyrene, sister, not for naught Scared by a groan so deep, behold! 'tis he, Even Aristaeus, thy heart's fondest care, Here by the brink of the Peneian sire Stands woebegone and weeping, and by name Cries out upon thee for thy cruelty." To whom, strange terror knocking at her heart, "Bring, bring him to our sight," the mother cried; "His feet may tread the threshold even of Gods." So saying, she bids the flood yawn wide and yield A pathway for his footsteps; but the wave Arched mountain-wise closed round him, and within Its mighty bosom welcomed, and let speed To the deep river-bed. And now, with eyes Of wonder gazing on his mother's hall And watery kingdom and cave-prisoned pools And echoing groves, he went, and, stunned by that Stupendous whirl of waters, separate saw All streams beneath the mighty earth that glide, Phasis and Lycus, and that fountain-head Whence first the deep Enipeus leaps to light, Whence father Tiber, and whence Anio's flood, And Hypanis that roars amid his rocks, And Mysian Caicus, and, bull-browed 'Twixt either gilded horn, Eridanus, Than whom none other through the laughing plains More furious pours into the purple sea. Soon as the chamber's hanging roof of stone Was gained, and now Cyrene from her son Had heard his idle weeping, in due course Clear water for his hands the sisters bring, With napkins of shorn pile, while others heap The board with dainties, and set on afresh The brimming goblets; with Panchaian fires Upleap the altars; then the mother spake, "Take beakers of Maconian wine," she said, "Pour we to Ocean." Ocean, sire of all, She worships, and the sister-nymphs who guard The hundred forests and the hundred streams; Thrice Vesta's fire with nectar clear she dashed, Thrice to the roof-top shot the flame and shone: Armed with which omen she essayed to speak: "In Neptune's gulf Carpathian dwells a seer, Caerulean Proteus, he who metes the main With fish-drawn chariot of two-footed steeds; Now visits he his native home once more, Pallene and the Emathian ports; to him We nymphs do reverence, ay, and Nereus old; For all things knows the seer, both those which are And have been, or which time hath yet to bring; So willed it Neptune, whose portentous flocks, And loathly sea-calves 'neath the surge he feeds. Him first, my son, behoves thee seize and bind That he may all the cause of sickness show, And grant a prosperous end. For save by force No rede will he vouchsafe, nor shalt thou bend His soul by praying;