And the glorious lame god answered, “Revered and dear to me is she; for she saved me, when my shameless mother threw me down from heaven; and I should have suffered dire anguish had not Eurynome, daughter of Oceanos, and Thetis taken me to their hearts and comforted me.  Nine years I spent with them, and fashioned all kinds of curious work of bronze—­clasps, and spiral bracelets, and ear-rings, like the calyx of a flower, and necklaces—­in the hollow grot, while all around me roared the streams of great Oceanus.  And none of the other Gods knew where I was, but only Thetis and Eurynome.  And now that she is come, a welcome guest, to my house, I will repay the fair-haired nymph in every way, for saving my life.”

So saying, he raised his mighty bulk from the block, and, limping on his slender legs, moved quickly; and he put away his bellows, and placed his tools in a silver chest, and sponged his face and hands, his strong neck and hairy breast; then he donned his tunic, and leaning on a staff, he limped along.  And golden handmaids, in the form of living maidens, came to help their lord; these have intelligent minds, and human voices, and skill from the deathless Gods.  And he went with halting gait, and seated himself on a shining throne, near the silver-footed Thetis; and he took her by the hand, and said to her, “O dear and honored Thetis of the flowing robes! why comest thou to our house, thou, an infrequent guest?”

Then the silver-footed goddess answered him, “O Vulcan! hath Zeus, the son of Cronos, laid on any other goddess in Olympus such grievous woes as on me, unhappy that I am?  He chose out me, from all the sea nymphs, to endure marriage with a mortal.  A son I bare, the greatest of heroes.  I brought him up, like a young tree in a fruitful soil, and sent him in a high-peaked ship to war against the Trojans; but never again will he return to me, in the halls of his aged father Peleus.  And even while I yet see him, and he beholdeth the light of the sun, he is full of grief, and I cannot help him.  For King Agamemnon took away his prize, the dearly loved maiden Briseis.  For the loss of her, he pined and wept; nor would he allow his Myrmidons to join in the battle, though the Achaians were hard pressed and driven to their ships.  The chiefs of the Argives came to him with prayers and tears, and many costly gifts.  And though he refused himself to rescue them, he suffered Patroclus to put on his divine armor, and sent many of the Myrmidons with him to the battle.  And the son of Menoetius performed high deeds of valor, and went near to sack the city.  But the Far-Darting Apollo and glorious Hector slew him, and gained immortal glory.  And now, I come as a suppliant, to clasp thy knees, and to pray that thou wouldst give my short-lived son a shield, a helmet, a breastplate, and goodly greaves.”

Then the lame god, the famous artificer, replied, “Be of good cheer, O silver-footed Queen, and be not troubled about these things!  Would that I could as surely save him from mournful death, as that I will supply him with goodly armor, a wonder to behold!”