(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.