whither she had gone. From Helios, whom she addresses as the all-seeing, Demeter receives clearer tidings and a deeper sympathy,
and now she learns that her child is the bride of Aidoneus, who reigns
in the unseen land beneath the earth. The grief of the mourning
mother is almost swallowed up in rage, as she leaves the home of the
gods and wanders along the fields and by the cities of men, so changed
in form, and so closely veiled that none could know the beautiful
queen who had till then shed a charm of loveliness over all the ^ide
world. At last she sat down by the wayside, near Eleusis, where the
maidens of the city came to draw water from the fountain. Here,
when questioned by the daughters of Keleos the king, the mourner
tells them that her name is Deo, and that, having escaped from
Cretan kidnappers, she seeks a refuge and a home, where she may
nurse young children. Such a home she finds in the house of Keleos,
which the poet makes her enter veiled from head to foot^ Not a
word does she utter in answer to the kindly greetings of Metaneira,
and the deep gloom is lessened only by the jests and sarcasms of
lambe. ^^^len Metaneira offers her wine, she says that now she may
not taste it, but asks for a draught of water mingled with flour and
mint, and then takes charge of the new-born son of Keleos, whom
she names Demophoon, Under her care the babe thrives marel-
louslv, thoush he has no nourishment either of bread or of milk.
The kindly nurse designs, indeed, to make him immortal ; and thus
by day she anoints him with ambrosia, and in the night she plunges
him, like a torch, into a bath of fire. But her purpose is finistrated
by the folly of Metaneira, who, seeing the child thus basking in the
flames, screams with fear, and is told by Demeter that, though her
child shall ever receive honour because he has slumbered in her arms,
still, like all the sons of men, and like Achilleus himself, he must die. Nevertheless, though she cast the child away from her, she abode
yet in the house of Keleos, mourning and grieving for the maiden,
so that all things in the heaven above and the earth beneath felt
the weight of her sorrow. In vain the ploughs turned up the soil,
in vain was the barley seed scattered along the furrows. In 01)"mpos
itself there was only gloom and sadness, so that Zeus charged Iris
to go and summon Demeter to the palace of the gods. But neither
her words nor those of the deities who follow her avail to lessen her
grief or to bend her will The mourning mother will not leave the
place of her exile till her eyes have looked upon her child once more.
• The hymn-writer forgets for a head touched the roof, while a bla^e of moment the veiled Mater Dolorosa, light streamed through the doors and when at her entrance he sajs that her fiUed the dwelling.
