Demeter and Persephone#
One of my favourite classical tales, that explains the two halves of the year by way of the descent to the underworld by Persephone for the winter months, and her return to the upper world for the remaining months.
The gist of the tale:
Hades falls for the virginal Persephone, and makes a plan with Zeus to take her to the underworld. Demeter is distraught at the loss of her daughter, and scours the world for her. Eventually she hears tell that Persephone is in the land of Hades. A deal is struck to return Persephone, as long as she hasnlt eaten anyting. But she has, and as a result must spend part of the year in the underworld, that time we now know as Winter. When she wals the Earth with her mother, it is spring and summer.
See also
Hades also has form. For example, see Pan (Hades) and Syrinx, at the end of Ovid’s Metamorphoses: Book 1.
See also
Something I’ve started to wonder as a subtext for the telling: Persephone as a junkie, and Hades as the one who has got her hooked… Or Hades as a controlling partner.
In terms of tellings, I quite like the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (see the reworking of this poem in the next chapter):
Homeric Hymn to Demeter, transl. Evelyn-White, 1914
HYMN TO DEMETER Translated by Hugh G.Evelyn-White published 1914, Loeb Classical Library
I begin to sing of rich-haired Demeter, awful goddess — of her and her trim-ankled daughter whom Aidoneus [Hades] rapt away, given to him by all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer. Apart from Demeter, lady of the golden sword and glorious fruits, she was playing with the deep-bosomed daughters of Oceanus and gathering flowers over a soft meadow, roses and crocuses and beautiful violets, irises also and hyacinths and the narcissus which Earth made to grow at the will of Zeus and to please the Host of Many, to be a snare for the bloom-like girl — a marvellous, radiant flower. It was a thing of awe whether for deathless gods or mortal men to see: from its root grew a hundred blooms and it smelled most sweetly, so that all wide heaven above and the whole earth and the sea’s salt swell laughed for joy. And the girl was amazed and reached out with both hands to take the lovely toy; but the wide-pathed earth yawned there in the plain of Nysa, and the lord, Host of Many, with his immortal horses sprang out upon her — the Son of Cronos, He who has many names.[1]
He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. Then she cried out shrilly with her voice, calling upon her father, the Son of Cronos, who is most high and excellent. But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave, and the lord Helios, Hyperion’s bright son, as she cried to her father, the Son of Cronos. But he was sitting aloof, apart from the gods, in his temple where many pray, and receiving sweet offerings from mortal men. So he, that Son of Cronos, of many names, who is Ruler of Many and Host of Many, was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal chariot — his own brother’s child and all unwilling.
[Line 33] And so long as she, the goddess, yet beheld earth and starry heaven and the strong-flowing sea where fishes shoal, and the rays of the sun, and still hoped to see her dear mother and the tribes of the eternal gods, so long hope calmed her great heart for all her trouble… . and the heights of the mountains and the depths of the sea rang with her immortal voice: and her queenly mother heard her.
Bitter pain seized her heart, and she rent the covering upon her divine hair with her dear hands: her dark cloak she cast down from both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird, over the firm land and yielding sea, seeking her child. But no one would tell her the truth, neither god nor mortal man; and of the birds of omen none came with true news for her. Then for nine days queenly Deo wandered over the earth with flaming torches in her hands, so grieved that she never tasted ambrosia and the sweet draught of nectar, nor sprinkled her body with water. But when the tenth enlightening dawn had come, Hecate, with a torch in her hands, met her, and spoke to her and told her news:
“Queenly Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of good gifts, what god of heaven or what mortal man has rapt away Persephone and pierced with sorrow your dear heart? For I heard her voice, yet saw not with my eyes who it was. But I tell you truly and shortly all I know.”
[Line 59] So, then, said Hecate. And the daughter of rich-haired Rhea answered her not, but sped swiftly with her, holding flaming torches in her hands. So they came to Helios, who is watchman of both gods and men, and stood in front of his horses: and the bright goddess enquired of him: “Helios, do you at least regard me, goddess as I am, if ever by word or deed of mine I have cheered your heart and spirit. Through the fruitless air I heard the thrilling cry of my daughter whom I bare, sweet scion of my body and lovely in form, as of one seized violently; though with my eyes I saw nothing. But you — for with your beams you look down from the bright upper air over all the earth and sea — tell me truly of my dear child if you have seen her anywhere, what god or mortal man has violently seized her against her will and mine, and so made off.”
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 our 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.”
So he spake, and called to his horses: and at his chiding they quickly whirled the swift chariot along, like long-winged birds.
[Line 90] 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 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 startling near by her spoke winged words:
“Old mother, whence 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.”
[Line 118] 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. Afterwards they put in with their swift craft to Thoricus, and these the women landed on the shore in full throng and the men likewise, and they began to make ready a meal by the stern-cables of the ship. But my heart craved not pleasant food, and I fled secretly across the dark country and escaped my masters, that they should not take me unpurchased across the sea, there to win a price for me. And so I wandered and am come here: and I know not at all what land this is or what people are in it. But may all those who dwell on Olympus give you husbands and birth of children as parents desire, so you take pity on me, maidens, and show me this clearly that I may learn, dear children, to the house of what man and woman I may go, to work for them cheerfully at such tasks as belong to a woman of my age. Well could I nurse a new born child, holding him in my arms, or keep house, or spread my masters’ bed in a recess of the well-built chamber, or teach the women their work.”
So said the goddess. And straightway the unwed maiden Callidice, goodliest in form of the daughters of Celeus, answered her and said:
[Line 147] “Mother, what the gods send us, we mortals bear perforce, although we suffer; for they are much stronger than we. But now I will teach you clearly, telling you the names of men who have great power and honour here and are chief among the people, guarding our city’s coif of towers by their wisdom and true judgements: there is wise Triptolemus and Dioclus and Polyxeinus and blameless Eumolpus and Dolichus and our own brave father. All these have wives who manage in the house, and no one of them, so soon as she had seen you, would dishonour you and turn you from the house, but they will welcome you; for indeed you are godlike. But if you will, stay here; and we will go to our father’s house and tell Metaneira, our deep-bosomed mother, all this matter fully, that she may bid you rather come to our home than search after the houses of others. She has an only son, late-born, who is being nursed in our well-built house, a child of many prayers and welcome: if you could bring him up until he reached the full measure of youth, any one of womankind who should see you would straightway envy you, such gifts would our mother give for his upbringing.”
So she spake: and the goddess bowed her head in assent. And they filled their shining vessels with water and carried them off rejoicing. Quickly they came to their father’s great house and straightway told their mother according as they had heard and seen. Then she bade them go with all speed and invite the stranger to come for a measureless hire. As hinds or heifers in spring time, when sated with pasture, bound about a meadow, so they, holding up the folds of their lovely garments, darted down the hollow path, and their hair like a crocus flower streamed about their shoulders. And they found the good goddess near the wayside where they had left her before, and led her to the house of their dear father. And she walked behind, distressed in her dear heart, with her head veiled and wearing a dark cloak which waved about the slender feet of the goddess.
[Line 184] Soon they came to the house of heaven-nurtured Celeus and went through the portico to where their queenly mother sat by a pillar of the close-fitted roof, holding her son, a tender scion, in her bosom. And the girls ran to her. But the goddess walked to the threshold: and her head reached the roof and she filled the doorway with a heavenly radiance. Then awe and reverence and pale fear took hold of Metaneira, and she rose up from her couch before Demeter, and bade her be seated. But Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of perfect gifts, would not sit upon the bright couch, but stayed silent with lovely eyes cast down until careful Iambe placed a jointed seat for her and threw over it a silvery fleece. Then she sat down and held her veil in her hands before her face. A long time she sat upon the stool[2] without speaking because of her sorrow, and greeted no one by word or by sign, but rested, never smiling, and tasting neither food nor drinks because she pined with longing for her deep-bosomed daughter, until careful Iambe — who pleased her moods in aftertime also — moved the holy lady with many a quip and jest to smile and laugh and cheer her heart. Then Metaneira filled a cup with sweet wine and offered it to her; but she refused it, for she said it was not lawful for her to drink red wine, but bade them mix meal and water with soft mint and give her to drink. And Metaneira mixed the draught and gave it to the goddess as she bade. So the great queen Deo received it to observe the sacrament.[3]
[Line 212] And of them all, well-girded Metaneira first began to speak: “Hail, lady! For I think you are not meanly but nobly born; truly dignity and grace are conspicuous upon your eyes as in the eyes of kings that deal justice. Yet we mortals bear per-force what the gods send us, though we be grieved; for a yoke is set upon our necks. But now, since you are come here, you shall have what I can bestow: and nurse me this child whom the gods gave me in my old age and beyond my hope, a son much prayed for. If you should bring him up until he reach the full measure of youth, any one of woman-kind that sees you will straightway envy you, so great reward would I give for his upbringing.”
Then rich-haired Demeter answered her: “And to you, also, lady, all hail, and may the gods give you good! Gladly will I take the boy to my breast, as you bid me, and will nurse him. Never, I ween, through any heedlessness of his nurse shall witchcraft hurt him nor yet the Undercutter: for I know a charm far stronger than the Woodcutter, and I know an excellent safeguard against woeful witchcraft.”[4]
When she had so spoken, she took the child in her fragrant bosom with her divine hands: and his mother was glad in her heart. So the goddess nursed in the palace Demophoon, wise Celeus’ goodly son whom well-girded Metaneira bare. And the child grew like some immortal being, not fed with food nor nourished at the breast: for by day rich-crowned Demeter would anoint him with ambrosia as if he were the offspring of a god and breathe sweetly upon him as she held him in her bosom. But at night she would hide him like a brand in the heart of the fire, unknown to his dear parents. And it wrought great wonder in these that he grew beyond his age; for he was like the gods face to face. And she would have made him deathless and unaging, had not well-girded Metaneira in her heedlessness kept watch by night from her sweet-smelling chamber and spied. But she wailed and smote her two hips, because she feared for her son and was greatly distraught in her heart; so she lamented and uttered winged words:
[Line 248] “Demophoon, my son, the strange woman buries you deep in fire and works grief and bitter sorrow for me.”
Thus she spoke, mourning. And the bright goddess, lovely-crowned Demeter, heard her, and was wroth with her. So with her divine hands she snatched from the fire the dear son whom Metaneira had born unhoped-for in the palace, and cast him from her to the ground; for she was terribly angry in her heart. Forthwith she said to well-girded Metaneira:
“Witless are you mortals and dull to foresee your lot, whether of good or evil, that comes upon you. For now in your heedlessness you have wrought folly past healing; for — be witness the oath of the gods, the relentless water of Styx — I would have made your dear son deathless and unaging all his days and would have bestowed on him ever-lasting honour, but now he can in no way escape death and the fates. Yet shall unfailing honour always rest upon him, because he lay upon my knees and slept in my arms. But, as the years move round and when he is in his prime, the sons of the Eleusinians shall ever wage war and dread strife with one another continually. Lo! I am that Demeter who has share of honour and is the greatest help and cause of joy to the undying gods and mortal men. But now, let all the people build me a great temple and an altar below it and beneath the city and its sheer wall upon a rising hillock above Callichorus. And I myself will teach my rites, that hereafter you may reverently perform them and so win the favour of my heart.”
[Line 275] When she had so said, the goddess changed her stature and her looks, thrusting old age away from her: beauty spread round about her and a lovely fragrance was wafted from her sweet-smelling robes, and from the divine body of the goddess a light shone afar, while golden tresses spread down over her shoulders, so that the strong house was filled with brightness as with lightning. And so she went out from the palace.
And straightway Metaneira’s knees were loosed and she remained speechless for a long while and did not remember to take up her late-born son from the ground. But his sisters heard his pitiful wailing and sprang down from their well-spread beds: one of them took up the child in her arms and laid him in her bosom, while another revived the fire, and a third rushed with soft feet to bring their mother from her fragrant chamber. And they gathered about the struggling child and washed him, embracing him lovingly; but he was not comforted, because nurses and handmaids much less skillful were holding him now.
All night long they sought to appease the glorious goddess, quaking with fear. But, as soon as dawn began to show, they told powerful Celeus all things without fail, as the lovely-crowned goddess Demeter charged them. So Celeus called the countless people to an assembly and bade them make a goodly temple for rich-haired Demeter and an altar upon the rising hillock. And they obeyed him right speedily and harkened to his voice, doing as he commanded. As for the child, he grew like an immortal being.
[Line 301] Now when they had finished building and had drawn back from their toil, they went every man to his house. But golden-haired Demeter sat there apart from all the blessed gods and stayed, wasting with yearning for her deep-bosomed daughter. Then she caused a most dreadful and cruel year for mankind over the all-nourishing earth: the ground would not make the seed sprout, for rich-crowned Demeter kept it hid. In the fields the oxen drew many a curved plough in vain, and much white barley was cast upon the land without avail. So she would have destroyed the whole race of man with cruel famine and have robbed them who dwell on Olympus of their glorious right of gifts and sacrifices, had not Zeus perceived and marked this in his heart. First he sent golden-winged Iris to call rich-haired Demeter, lovely in form. So he commanded. And she obeyed the dark-clouded Son of Cronos, and sped with swift feet across the space between. She came to the stronghold of fragrant Eleusis, and there finding dark-cloaked Demeter in her temple, spake to her and uttered winged words:
“Demeter, father Zeus, whose wisdom is everlasting, calls you to come join the tribes of the eternal gods: come therefore, and let not the message I bring from Zeus pass unobeyed.”
Thus said Iris imploring her. But Demeter’s heart was not moved. Then again the father sent forth all the blessed and eternal gods besides: and they came, one after the other, and kept calling her and offering many very beautiful gifts and whatever rights she might be pleased to choose among the deathless gods. Yet no one was able to persuade her mind and will, so wroth was she in her heart; but she stubbornly rejected all their words: for she vowed that she would never set foot on fragrant Olympus nor let fruit spring out of the ground, until she beheld with her eyes her own fair-faced daughter.
[Line 334] Now when all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer heard this, he sent the Slayer of Argus whose wand is of gold to Erebus, so that having won over Hades with soft words, he might lead forth chaste Persephone to the light from the misty gloom to join the gods, and that her mother might see her with her eyes and cease from her anger. And Hermes obeyed, and leaving the house of Olympus, straightway sprang down with speed to the hidden places of the earth. And he found the lord Hades in his house seated upon a couch, and his shy mate with him, much reluctant, because she yearned for her mother. But she was afar off, brooding on her fell design because of the deeds of the blessed gods. And the strong Slayer of Argus drew near and said:
“Dark-haired Hades, ruler over the departed, father Zeus bids me bring noble Persephone forth from Erebus unto the gods, that her mother may see her with her eyes and cease from her dread anger with the immortals; for now she plans an awful deed, to destroy the weakly tribes of earthborn men by keeping seed hidden beneath the earth, and so she makes an end of the honours of the undying gods. For she keeps fearful anger and does not consort with the gods, but sits aloof in her fragrant temple, dwelling in the rocky hold of Eleusis.”
So he said. And Aidoneus, ruler over the dead, smiled grimly and obeyed the behest of Zeus the king. For he straightway urged wise Persephone, saying:
[Line 360] “Go now, Persephone, to your dark-robed mother, go, and feel kindly in your heart towards me: be not so exceedingly cast down; for I shall be no unfitting husband for you among the deathless gods, that am own brother to father Zeus. And while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves and shall have the greatest rights among the deathless gods: those who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings, reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts, shall be punished for evermore.”
When he said this, wise Persephone was filled with joy and hastily sprang up for gladness. But he on his part secretly gave her sweet pomegranate seed to eat, taking care for himself that she might not remain continually with grave, dark-robed Demeter. Then Aidoneus the Ruler of Many openly got ready his deathless horses beneath the golden chariots And she mounted on the chariot and the strong Slayer of Argus took reins and whip in his dear hands and drove forth from the hall, the horses speeding readily. Swiftly they traversed their long course, and neither the sea nor river-waters nor grassy glens nor mountain-peaks checked the career of the immortal horses, but they clave the deep air above them as they went. And Hermes brought them to the place where rich-crowned Demeter was staying and checked them before her fragrant temple.
[Line 384] And when Demeter saw them, she rushed forth as does a Maenad down some thick-wooded mountain, while Persephone on the other side, when she saw her mother’s sweet eyes, left the chariot and horses, and leaped down to run to her, and falling upon her neck, embraced her. But while Demeter was still holding her dear child in her arms, her heart suddenly misgave her for some snare, so that she feared greatly and ceased fondling her daughter and asked of her at once: “My child, tell me, surely you have not tasted any food while you were below? Speak out and hide nothing, but let us both know. For if you have not, you shall come back from loathly Hades and live with me and your father, the dark-clouded Son of Cronos and be honoured by all the deathless gods; but if you have tasted food, you must go back again beneath the secret places of the earth, there to dwell a third part of the seasons every year: yet for the two parts you shall be with me and the other deathless gods. But when the earth shall bloom with the fragrant flowers of spring in every kind, then from the realm of darkness and gloom thou shalt come up once more to be a wonder for gods and mortal men. And now tell me how he rapt you away to the realm of darkness and gloom, and by what trick did the strong Host of Many beguile you?”
[Line 405] Then beautiful Persephone answered her thus: “Mother, I will tell you all without error. When luck-bringing Hermes came, swift messenger from my father the Son of Cronos and the other Sons of Heaven, bidding me come back from Erebus that you might see me with your eyes and so cease from your anger and fearful wrath against the gods, I sprang up at once for joy; but he secretly put in my mouth sweet food, a pomegranate seed, and forced me to taste against my will. Also I will tell how he rapt me away by the deep plan of my father the Son of Cronos and carried me off beneath the depths of the earth, and will relate the whole matter as you ask. All we were playing in a lovely meadow, Leucippe and Phaeno and Electra and Ianthe, Melita also and Iache with Rhodea and Callirhoe and Melobosis and Tyche and Ocyrhoe, fair as a flower, Chryseis, Ianeira, Acaste and Admete and Rhodope and Pluto and charming Calypso; Styx too was there and Urania and lovely Galaxaura with Pallas who rouses battles and Artemis delighting in arrows.[5] We were playing and gathering sweet flowers in our hands, soft crocuses mingled with irises and hyacinths, and rose-blooms and lilies, marvellous to see, and the narcissus which the wide earth caused to grow yellow as a crocus. That I plucked in my joy; but the earth parted beneath, and there the strong lord, the Host of Many, sprang forth and in his golden chariot he bore me away, all unwilling, beneath the earth: then I cried with a shrill cry. All this is true, sore though it grieves me to tell the tale.”
[Line 434] So did they then, with hearts at one, greatly cheer each the other’s soul and spirit with many an embrace: their hearts had relief from their griefs while each took and gave back joyousness.
Then bright-coiffed Hecate came near to them, and often did she embrace the daughter of holy Demeter: and from that time the lady Hecate was minister and companion to Persephone.
And all-seeing Zeus sent a messenger to them, rich-haired Rhea, to bring dark-cloaked Demeter to join the families of the gods: and he promised to give her what rights she should choose among the deathless gods and agreed that her daughter should go down for the third part of the circling year to darkness and gloom, but for the two parts should live with her mother and the other deathless gods. Thus he commanded. And the goddess did not disobey the message of Zeus; swiftly she rushed down from the peaks of Olympus and came to the plain of Rharus, rich, fertile corn-land once, but then in nowise fruitful, for it lay idle and utterly leafless, because the white grain was hidden by design of trim-ankled Demeter. But afterwards, as spring-time waxed, it was soon to be waving with long ears of corn, and its rich furrows to be loaded with grain upon the ground, while others would already be bound in sheaves. There first she landed from the fruitless upper air: and glad were the goddesses to see each other and cheered in heart. Then bright-coiffed Rhea said to Demeter:
[Line 459] “Come, my daughter; for far-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer calls you to join the families of the gods, and has promised to give you what rights you please among the deathless gods, and has agreed that for a third part of the circling year your daughter shall go down to darkness and gloom, but for the two parts shall be with you and the other deathless gods: so has he declared it shall be and has bowed his head in token. But come, my child, obey, and be not too angry unrelentingly with the dark-clouded Son of Cronos; but rather increase forthwith for men the fruit that gives them life.”
So spake Rhea. And rich-crowned Demeter did not refuse but straightway made fruit to spring up from the rich lands, so that the whole wide earth was laden with leaves and flowers. Then she went, and to the kings who deal justice, Triptolemus and Diocles, the horse-driver, and to doughty Eumolpus and Celeus, leader of the people, she showed the conduct of her rites and taught them all her mysteries, to Triptolemus and Polyxeinus and Diocles also, — awful mysteries which no one may in any way transgress or pry into or utter, for deep awe of the gods checks the voice. Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries; but he who is uninitiate and who has no part in them, never has lot of like good things once he is dead, down in the darkness and gloom.
[Line 483] But when the bright goddess had taught them all, they went to Olympus to the gathering of the other gods. And there they dwell beside Zeus who delights in thunder, awful and reverend goddesses. Right blessed is he among men on earth whom they freely love: soon they do send Plutus as guest to his great house, Plutus who gives wealth to mortal men.
And now, queen of the land of sweet Eleusis and sea-girt Paros and rocky Antron, lady, giver of good gifts, bringer of seasons, queen Deo, be gracious, you and your daughter all beauteous Persephone, and for my song grant me heart-cheering substance. And now I will remember you and another song also.
In Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Venus (the Roman Goddess, Aphrodite in the Greek pantheon) takes issue with the virginal stance taken by Minerva (Roman; Athena, Greek, goddess of wisdom and handicraft), Diana (Artemis, goddess of the hunt) and Ceres’ (Demeter’s) daughter Proserpina (Persephone), and the bachelorhood of Pluto (Hades), and calls on Cupid to fire an arrow at Hades. The poem also includes a scene where the nypmh Cyane unsuccessfully attempts to stop Hades, and in her lament weeps until she is absorbed, as water, by the pool that bears her name. Demeter finds Persephone’s belt there, but no further sign of her, even the gatewaay to hell through which her daughter was taken was also somewhere thereabouts.
Ovid, “The Rape of Proserpine”, Metamorphoses
Metamorphoses By Ovid
in Ovid’s Metamorphoses in fifteen books, translated Translated by Sir Samuel Garth, John Dryden, et al., 1717, Book V, p158-169 :
The song of the Muses.
First Ceres taught the lab’ring Hind to plow
The pregnant Earth, and quickning Seed to sow.
She first for Man did wholesom Food provide,
And with just Laws the wicked World supply’d:
All Good from her deriv’d, to her belong
The grateful Tributes of the Muse’s Song.
Her more than worthy of our Verse we deem,
Oh! were our Verse more worthy of the Theme.
Jove on the Giant fair Trinacria hurl’d,
And with one Bolt reveng’d his starry World.
Beneath her burning Hills Typheus lies,
And, strugling always, strives in vain to rise.
Down does Pelorus his right Hand suppress
Toward Latium, on the left Pachyne weighs.
His Legs are under Lilybaeum spread,
And Aetna presses hard his horrid Head.
On his broad Back he there extended lies,
And vomits Clouds of Ashes to the skies.
Oft lab’ring with his Load, at last he tires,
And spews out in Revenge a Flood of Fires
Mountains he struggles to o’erwhelm, and Towns,
Earth’s inmost Bowels quake, and Nature groans.
His Terrors reach the direful King of Hell;
He fears his Throws will to the Day reveal
The Realms of Night, and fright his trembling Ghosts:
This to prevent, he quits the shygian Coasts,
In his black Carr, by sooty Horses drawn.
Fair Sicily he seeks, and dreads the Dawn.
Around her Plains he casts his eager Eyes,
And ev’ry Mountain to the Bottom tries.
But when, in all the careful search, he saw
No Cause of Fear, no ill suspected Flaw;
secure from Harm, and wandring on at Will,
Venus beheld him from her flow’ry Hill:
When trait the Dame her little Cupid prest
With secret Rapture to her snowy Breast,
And in these Words the flutt ring Boy addrest.
O thou, my Arms, my Glory, and my Pow’r,
My son, whom Men, and deathless Gods adore;
Bend thy sure Bow, whose Arrows never miss’d,
No longer let Hell’s King thy sway resist:
Take him, while stragling from his dark Abodes
He coasts the Kingdoms of superior Gods.
If sovereign Jove, if Gods who rule the Waves,
And Neptune, who rules them, have been thy slaves;
Shall Hell be free? The Tyrant strike, my son,
Enlarge thy Mother’s Empire, and thy own.
Let not our Heav’n be made the Mock of Hell,
But Pluto to confess thy Pow’r compel.
Our Rule is {lighted in our native skies,
see Pallas, {ce Diana too defies
Thy Darts, which Ceres Daughter wou’d despise.
She too our Empire treats with awkward scorn;
Such Insolence no longer’s to be born.
Revenge our slighted Reign, and with thy Dart
Transfix the Virgin’s to the Uncle’s Heart.
She said; and from his Quiver strait he drew
A Dart that surely wou’d the Business do.
Wil she guides his Hand, she makes her Touch the Test,
And of a thousand Arrows chose the best:
No Feather better pois’d, a sharper Head
None had, and sooner none, and surer sped.
He bends his Bow, he draws it to his Ear,
Thro’ Pluto s Heart it drives, and fixes there.
The Rape of Proserpine
Near Enna’s walls a spacious lake is spread,
Fam’d for the sweetly-singing swans it bred;
Pergusa is its name: and never more
Were heard, or sweeter on Cayster’s shore.
Woods crown the lake; and Phoebus ne’er invades
The tufted fences, or offends the shades:
Fresh fragrant breezes fan the verdant bow’rs,
And the moist ground smiles with enamel’d flow’rs
The chearful birds their airy carols sing,
And the whole year is one eternal spring.
Here, while young Proserpine, among the maids,
Diverts herself in these delicious shades;
While like a child with busy speed and care
She gathers lillies here, and vi’lets there;
While first to fill her little lap she strives,
Hell’s grizly monarch at the shade arrives;
Sees her thus sporting on the flow’ry green,
And loves the blooming maid, as soon as seen.
His urgent flame impatient of delay,
Swift as his thought he seiz’d the beauteous prey,
And bore her in his sooty carr away.
The frighted Goddess to her mother cries,
But all in vain, for now far off she flies;
Far she behind her leaves her virgin train;
To them too cries, and cries to them in vain,
And, while with passion she repeats her call,
The vi’lets from her lap, and lillies fall:
She misses ‘em, poor heart! and makes new moan;
Her lillies, ah! are lost, her vi’lets gone.
O’er hills, the ravisher, and vallies speeds,
By name encouraging his foamy steeds;
He rattles o’er their necks the rusty reins,
And ruffles with the stroke their shaggy manes.
O’er lakes he whirls his flying wheels, and comes
To the Palici breathing sulph’rous fumes.
And thence to where the Bacchiads of renown
Between unequal havens built their town;
Where Arethusa, round th’ imprison’d sea,
Extends her crooked coast to Cyane;
The nymph who gave the neighb’ring lake a name,
Of all Sicilian nymphs the first in fame,
She from the waves advanc’d her beauteous head,
The Goddess knew, and thus to Pluto said:
Farther thou shalt not with the virgin run;
Ceres unwilling, canst thou be her son?
The maid shou’d be by sweet perswasion won.
Force suits not with the softness of the fair;
For, if great things with small I may compare,
Me Anapis once lov’d; a milder course
He took, and won me by his words, not force.
Then, stretching out her arms, she stopt his way;
But he, impatient of the shortest stay,
Throws to his dreadful steeds the slacken’d rein,
And strikes his iron sceptre thro’ the main;
The depths profound thro’ yielding waves he cleaves,
And to Hell’s center a free passage leaves;
Down sinks his chariot, and his realms of night
The God soon reaches with a rapid flight.
Cyane dissolves to a Fountain
But still does Cyane the rape bemoan,
And with the Goddess’ wrongs laments her own;
For the stoln maid, and for her injur’d spring,
Time to her trouble no relief can bring.
In her sad heart a heavy load she bears,
‘Till the dumb sorrow turns her all to tears.
Her mingling waters with that fountain pass,
Of which she late immortal Goddess was;
Her varied members to a fluid melt,
A pliant softness in her bones is felt;
Her wavy locks first drop away in dew,
And liquid next her slender fingers grew.
The body’s change soon seizes its extreme,
Her legs dissolve, and feet flow off in stream.
Her arms, her back, her shoulders, and her side,
Her swelling breasts in little currents glide,
A silver liquor only now remains
Within the channel of her purple veins;
Nothing to fill love’s grasp; her husband chaste
Bathes in that bosom he before embrac’d.
A Boy transform’d to an Eft
Thus, while thro’ all the Earth, and all the main,
Her daughter mournful Ceres sought in vain;
Aurora, when with dewy looks she rose,
Nor burnish’d Vesper found her in repose,
At Aetna’s flaming mouth two pitchy pines
To light her in her search at length she tines.
Restless, with these, thro’ frosty night she goes,
Nor fears the cutting winds, nor heeds the snows;
And, when the morning-star the day renews,
From east to west her absent child pursues.
Thirsty at last by long fatigue she grows,
But meets no spring, no riv’let near her flows.
Then looking round, a lowly cottage spies,
Smoaking among the trees, and thither hies.
The Goddess knocking at the little door,
‘Twas open’d by a woman old and poor,
Who, when she begg’d for water, gave her ale
Brew’d long, but well preserv’d from being stale.
The Goddess drank; a chuffy lad was by,
Who saw the liquor with a grutching eye,
And grinning cries, She’s greedy more than dry.
Ceres, offended at his foul grimace,
Flung what she had not drunk into his face,
The sprinklings speckle where they hit the skin,
And a long tail does from his body spin;
His arms are turn’d to legs, and lest his size
Shou’d make him mischievous, and he might rise
Against mankind, diminutives his frame,
Less than a lizzard, but in shape the same.
Amaz’d the dame the wondrous sight beheld,
And weeps, and fain wou’d touch her quondam child.
Yet her approach th’ affrighted vermin shuns,
And fast into the greatest crevice runs.
A name they gave him, which the spots exprest,
That rose like stars, and varied all his breast.
What lands, what seas the Goddess wander’d o’er,
Were long to tell; for there remain’d no more.
Searching all round, her fruitless toil she mourns,
And with regret to Sicily returns.
At length, where Cyane now flows, she came,
Who cou’d have told her, were she still the same
As when she saw her daughter sink to Hell;
But what she knows she wants a tongue to tell.
Yet this plain signal manifestly gave,
The virgin’s girdle floating on a wave,
As late she dropt it from her slender waste,
When with her uncle thro’ the deep she past.
Ceres the token by her grief confest,
And tore her golden hair, and beat her breast.
She knows not on what land her curse shou’d fall,
But, as ingrate, alike upbraids them all,
Unworthy of her gifts; Trinacria most,
Where the last steps she found of what she lost.
The plough for this the vengeful Goddess broke,
And with one death the ox, and owner struck,
In vain the fallow fields the peasant tills,
The seed, corrupted ere ‘tis sown, she kills.
The fruitful soil, that once such harvests bore,
Now mocks the farmer’s care, and teems no more.
And the rich grain which fills the furrow’d glade,
Rots in the seed, or shrivels in the blade;
Or too much sun burns up, or too much rain
Drowns, or black blights destroy the blasted plain;
Or greedy birds the new-sown seed devour,
Or darnel, thistles, and a crop impure
Of knotted grass along the acres stand,
And spread their thriving roots thro’ all the land.
Then from the waves soft Arethusa rears
Her head, and back she flings her dropping hairs.
O mother of the maid, whom thou so far
Hast sought, of whom thou canst no tidings hear;
O thou, she cry’d, who art to life a friend,
Cease here thy search, and let thy labour end.
Thy faithful Sicily’s a guiltless clime,
And shou’d not suffer for another’s crime;
She neither knew, nor cou’d prevent the deed;
Nor think that for my country thus I plead;
My country’s Pisa, I’m an alien here,
Yet these abodes to Elis I prefer,
No clime to me so sweet, no place so dear.
These springs I Arethusa now possess,
And this my seat, o gracious Goddess, bless:
This island why I love, and why I crost
Such spacious seas to reach Ortygia’s coast,
To you I shall impart, when, void of care,
Your heart’s at ease, and you’re more fit to hear;
When on your brow no pressing sorrow sits,
For gay content alone such tales admits.
When thro’ Earth’s caverns I a-while have roul’d
My waves, I rise, and here again behold
The long-lost stars; and, as I late did glide
Near Styx, Proserpina there I espy’d.
Fear still with grief might in her face be seen;
She still her rape laments; yet, made a queen,
Beneath those gloomy shades her sceptre sways,
And ev’n th’ infernal king her will obeys.
This heard, the Goddess like a statue stood,
Stupid with grief; and in that musing mood
Continu’d long; new cares a-while supprest
The reigning of her immortal breast.
At last to Jove her daughter’s sire she flies,
And with her chariot cuts the chrystal skies;
She comes in clouds, and with dishevel’d hair,
Standing before his throne, prefers her pray’r.
King of the Gods, defend my blood and thine,
And use it not the worse for being mine.
If I no more am gracious in thy sight,
Be just, o Jove, and do thy daughter right.
In vain I sought her the wide world around,
And, when I most despair’d to find her, found.
But how can I the fatal finding boast,
By which I know she is for ever lost?
Without her father’s aid, what other Pow’r
Can to my arms the ravish’d maid restore?
Let him restore her, I’ll the crime forgive;
My child, tho’ ravish’d, I’d with joy receive.
Pity, your daughter with a thief shou’d wed,
Tho’ mine, you think, deserves no better bed.
Jove thus replies: It equally belongs
To both, to guard our common pledge from wrongs.
But if to things we proper names apply,
This hardly can be call’d an injury.
The theft is love; nor need we blush to own
The thief, if I can judge, to be our son.
Had you of his desert no other proof,
To be Jove’s brother is methinks enough.
Nor was my throne by worth superior got,
Heav’n fell to me, as Hell to him, by lot:
If you are still resolv’d her loss to mourn,
And nothing less will serve than her return;
Upon these terms she may again be yours
(Th’ irrevocable terms of fate, not ours),
Of Stygian food if she did never taste,
Hell’s bounds may then, and only then, be past.
The Transformation of Ascalaphus into an Owl
The Goddess now, resolving to succeed,
Down to the gloomy shades descends with speed;
But adverse fate had otherwise decreed.
For, long before, her giddy thoughtless child
Had broke her fast, and all her projects spoil’d.
As in the garden’s shady walk she stray’d,
A fair pomegranate charm’d the simple maid,
Hung in her way, and tempting her to taste,
She pluck’d the fruit, and took a short repast.
Seven times, a seed at once, she eat the food;
The fact Ascalaphus had only view’d;
Whom Acheron begot in Stygian shades
On Orphne, fam’d among Avernal maids;
He saw what past, and by discov’ring all,
Detain’d the ravish’d nymph in cruel thrall.
But now a queen, she with resentment heard,
And chang’d the vile informer to a bird.
In Phlegeton’s black stream her hand she dips,
Sprinkles his head, and wets his babling lips.
Soon on his face, bedropt with magick dew,
A change appear’d, and gawdy feathers grew.
A crooked beak the place of nose supplies,
Rounder his head, and larger are his eyes.
His arms and body waste, but are supply’d
With yellow pinions flagging on each side.
His nails grow crooked, and are turn’d to claws,
And lazily along his heavy wings he draws.
Ill-omen’d in his form, the unlucky fowl,
Abhorr’d by men, and call’d a scrieching owl.
The Daughters of Achelous transform’d to Sirens
Justly this punishment was due to him,
And less had been too little for his crime;
But, o ye nymphs that from the flood descend,
What fault of yours the Gods cou’d so offend,
With wings and claws your beauteous forms to spoil,
Yet save your maiden face, and winning smile?
Were you not with her in Pergusa’s bow’rs,
When Proserpine went forth to gather flow’rs?
Since Pluto in his carr the Goddess caught,
Have you not for her in each climate sought?
And when on land you long had search’d in vain,
You wish’d for wings to cross the pathless main;
That Earth and Sea might witness to your care:
The Gods were easy, and return’d your pray’r;
With golden wing o’er foamy waves you fled,
And to the sun your plumy glories spread.
But, lest the soft enchantment of your songs,
And the sweet musick of your flat’ring tongues
Shou’d quite be lost (as courteous fates ordain),
Your voice and virgin beauty still remain.
Jove some amends for Ceres lost to make,
Yet willing Pluto shou’d the joy partake,
Gives ‘em of Proserpine an equal share,
Who, claim’d by both, with both divides the year.
The Goddess now in either empire sways,
Six moons in Hell, and six with Ceres stays.
Her peevish temper’s chang’d; that sullen mind,
Which made ev’n Hell uneasy, now is kind,
Her voice refines, her mein more sweet appears,
Her forehead free from frowns, her eyes from tears,
As when, with golden light, the conqu’ring day
Thro’ dusky exhalations clears a way.
Ceres her daughter’s rape no longer mourn’d,
But back to Arethusa’s spring return’d;
And sitting on the margin, bid her tell
From whence she came, and why a sacred well.
Diodorus Siculus’ retelling of the tale, given in two separate translations below, suggests that Persephone was out picking flowers with Athena and Artemis at the time of her abduction. There is also an interesting line about Demeter (Ceres) lighting a torch from the fires of Aetna as she searched for her daughter.
Diodorus Siculus, The Rape of Core, transl. Odlfather, 1931
In Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, book V. 1 - 8, transl. C. H. Oldfather, 1933, (also here):
DEMETER AND THE RAPE OF CORE
[also Core, Cora, Kore - “the maiden”; in the Roman, Proserpina]
[5.2.3] The Siceliotae who dwell in the island have received the tradition from their ancestors, the report having ever been handed down successively from earliest time by one generation to the next, that the island is sacred to Demeter and Corê; although there are certain poets who recount the myth that at the marriage of Pluton and Persephonê Zeus gave this island as a wedding present [The Greek word meant originally "festival of unveiling," when the bride first took off her veil and received presents] to the bride.
[5.2.4] That the ancient inhabitants of Sicily, the Sicani, were indigenous, is stated by the best authorities among historians, and also that the goddesses we have mentioned made their first appearance on this island, and that it was the first, because of the fertility of the soil, to bring forth the fruit of the corn, facts to which the most renowned of the poets also bears witness when he writes: [Homer, Odyssey 9. 109-11, describing the land of the Cyclopes]
But all these things grow there for them unsown And e’en untilled, both wheat and barley, yea, And vines, which yield such wine as fine grapes give, And rain of Zeus gives increase unto them.
[5.2.5] Indeed, in the plain of the Leontini, we are told, and throughout many other parts of Sicily the wheat men call “wild” grows even to this day. And, speaking generally, before the corn was discovered, [ie before the cultivation of wheat was known and then passed on from people to people] if one were to raise the question, what manner of land it was of the inhabited earth where the fruits we have mentioned appeared for the firs time, the meed of honour may reasonably be accorded to the richest land; and in keeping with what we have stated, it is also to be observed that the goddesses who made this discovery are those who receive the highest honours among the Siceliotae.
[5.3.1] Again, the fact that the Rape of Corê took place in Sicily is, men say, proof most evident that the goddesses made this island their favourite retreat because it was cherished by them before all others.
[5.3.2] And the Rape of Corê, the myth relates, took place in the meadows in the territory of Etna. The spot lies near the city, a place of striking beauty for its violets and every other kind of flower and worthy of the goddess. And the story is told that, because of the sweet odour of the flowers growing there, trained hunting dogs are unable to hold the trail, because their natural sense of smell is balked. And the meadow we have mentioned is level in the centre and well watered throughout, but on its periphery it rises high and falls off with precipitous cliffs on every side. And it is conceived of as lying in the very centre of the island, which is the reason why certain writers call it the navel of Sicily.
[5.3.3] Near to it also are sacred groves, surrounded by marshy flats, and a huge grotto which contains a chasm which leads down into the earth and opens to the north, and through it, the myth relates, Pluton, coming out with his chariot, effected the Rape of Corê. And the violets, we are told, and the rest of the flowers which supply the sweet odour continue to boom, to one’s amazement, throughout the entire year, and so the whole aspect of the place is one of flowers and delight.
[5.3.4] And both Athena and Artemis, the myth goes on to say, who had made the same choice of maidenhood as had Corê and were reared together with her, joined with her in gathering the flowers, and all of them together wove the robe for their father Zeus. And because of the time they had spent together and their intimacy they all loved this island above any other, and each one of them received for her portion a territory, Athena receiving hers in the region of Himera, where the Nymphs, to please Athena, caused the springs of warm water ["Quail Island" Several islands of this name are known in the Greek world, and on one of them Artemis slew Orion (Odyssey, 5. 123); hence she received the name "Ortygia"] to gush forth on the occasion of the visit of Heracles to the island, and the natives consecrated a city to her and a plot of ground which to this day is called Athena’s.
[5.3.5] And Artemis received from the gods the island at syracuse which was named after her, by both the oracles and men, Ortygia.11 On this island likewise these Nymphs, to please Artemis, caused a great fountain to gush forth to which was given the name Arethusa.
[5.3.6] And not only in ancient times did this fountain contain large fish in great numbers, but also in our own day we find these fish still there, considered to be holy and not to be touched by men; and on many occasions, when certain men have eaten them amid stress of war, the deity has shown a striking sign and has visited with great sufferings such as dared to take them for food. Of these matters we shall give an exact account in connection with the appropriate period of time. [Instances of punishments for the desecration of the shrines of Demeter and Core are given in Book 14, 63 and 70-1.]
[5.4.1] Like the two goddesses whom we have mentioned Corê, we are told, received as her portion the meadows round about Enna; but a great fountain was made sacred to her in the territory of syracuse and given the name Cyanê or “Azure Fount.”
[5.4.2] For the myth relates that it was near syracuse that Pluton effected the Rape of Corê and took her away in his chariot, and that after cleaving the earth asunder he himself descended into Hades, taking along with him the bride whom he had seized, and that he caused the fountain named Cyanê to gush forth, near which the syracusans each year hold a notable festive gathering; and private individuals offer the lesser victims, but when the ceremony is on behalf of the community, bulls are plunged in the pool, this manner of sacrifice having been commanded by Heracles on the occasion when he made the circuit of all Sicily, while driving off the cattle of Geryones.13
[5.4.3] After the Rape of Corê, the myth goes on to recount, Demeter, being unable to find her daughter, kindled torches in the craters of Mt. Aetna and visited many parts of the inhabited world, and upon the men who received her with the greatest favour she conferred benefactions, rewarding them with the gift of the fruit of the wheat.
[5.4.4] And since a more kindly welcome was extended the goddess by the Athenians than by any other people, they were the first after the Siceliotae to be given the fruit of the wheat; and in return for this gift the citizens of that city in assembly honoured the goddess above all others with the establishment both of most notable sacrifices and of the mysteries of Eleusis, which, by reason of their very great antiquity and sanctity, have come to be famous among all mankind. From the Athenians many peoples received a portion of the gracious gift of the corn, and they in turn, sharing the gift of the seed with their neighbours, in this way caused all the inhabited world to abound with it.
[5.4.5] And the inhabitants of Sicily, since by reason of the intimate relationship of Demeter and Corê with them they were the first to share in the corn after its discovery, instituted to each one of the goddesses sacrifices and festive gatherings, which they named after them, and by the time chosen for these made acknowledgment of the gifts which had been conferred upon them.
[5.4.6] In the case of Corê, for instance, they established the celebration of her return at about the time when the fruit of the corn was found to come to maturity, and they celebrate this sacrifice and festive gathering with such strictness of observance and such zeal as we should reasonably expect those men to show who are returning thanks for having been selected before all mankind for the greatest possible gift;
[5.4.7] but in the case of Demeter, they preferred that time for the sacrifice when the sowing of the corn is first begun, and for a period of ten days they hold a festive gathering which bears the name of this goddess and is most magnificent by reason of the brilliance of their preparation for it, while in the observance of it they imitate the ancient manner of life. And it is their custom during these days to indulge in coarse language as they associate one with another, the reason being that by such coarseness the goddess, grieved though she was at the Rape of Corê, burst into laughter.
[5.5.1] That the Rape of Corê took place in the manner we have described is attested by many ancient historians and poets. Carcinus [Two writers of tragedies by this name a lknown, both in Sicily, a Carcinus the elder, who was exhibiting in Athens at the opening of the Pelopennesian War, and his grandson.] the tragic poet, for instance, who often visited in syracuse and witnessed the zeal which the inhabitants displayed in the sacrifices and festive gatherings for both Demeter and Corê, ahs the following verses in his writings:
Demeter’s daughter, her whom none may name, by secret schemings Pluton, men say, stole, and then he dropped into earth’s depths, whose light is darkness. Longing for the vanished girl her mother searched and visited all lands in turn. And Sicily’s land by Aetna’s crags was filled with streams of fire which no man could approach, and groaned throughout its length; in grief over the maiden now the folk, beloved of Zeus, was perishing without the corn. Hence honour they these goddesses e’en now.
[5.5.2] But we should not omit to mention the very great benefaction which Demeter conferred upon mankind; for beside the fact that she was the discoverer of corn, she also taught mankind how to prepare it for food and introduced laws by obedience to which men became accustomed to the practice of justice, this being the reason we are told, why she has been given the epithet Thesmophoros, or Lawgiver.
[5.5.3] surely a benefaction greater than these discoveries of hers one could not find; for they embrace both living and living honourably. However, as for the myths which are current among the Siceliotae, we shall be satisfied with what has been said.
Diodorus Siculus, * Ceres and Proserpina*, transl. Gent, 1653
In The history of Diodorus Siculus, containing all that is most memorable and of greatest antiquity in the first ages of the world, until the war of Troy, Henry Gent, 1653, Book VI, p226-228](https://archive.org/details/bib_fict_4102574/page/226/mode/2):
Chap. II of Ceres and Proserpina, and the invention of Corne.
It is well known that these Godesses (who without question were the discoverers thereof) were in high estimation in Sicilia, they alledge the rape of Proserpina for an argument that these goddesses lived in this land, as a place wherein they much delighted. The rape of Proserpena (they say) was in the fields near Aetna hard by the City, which are garnished with Lilies and severall kinds of flowers meet for a Godess; insomuch that hounds there through the fragrancy of the smell lose their sents, the sweetneesse of the flowers overcoming their sense. This medow on the upper part thereof is exceeding plain, encompassed round by spreading waters, and parted on all sides by precipices, whence some have called it the Nayill of Sicilie: There are adjoyning to it groves, medowes, and moores on all sides, moreover a great Cave they say there is, which hath a passage under ground opening towards the North; through which (they faign) that Pluto passed with his charret, when he carried away Proserpina: they would have us beleeve that the Lilies, and other sweet flowers which delight the sight continue green all the year. If we beleeve fables, they tell that Minerva and Diana virgin Godesses being brought up with Proserpina, were wont to gather flowers together, and to make garments for their Father Jupiter; by reason of which fellowfsip and familiarity, they all came to love that Iland, each of them having such a place as they made choyce of: now Minerva chose the Countries about Hymera, wherein the Nymphes (to do her a favour at Hercules coming) made Fountaines of hot water to spring; which places, together with the City which to this day beares her name, the Inhabitants consecrated to her. Diana likewise had given her by the gods an Iland in Syracuse, which she called by the answer and voyce of the Oracle Ortygia; in this Iland likewise did the Nymphes in favour of Diana produce a fountain which is called Arethusa: this fountain not only heretofore, but even now in our times breeds abundance. of sacred fish, for they are not touched by the Inhabitants; they who in time of War have been bo’d to eat of them, have by the anger of the gods been afflicted with great calamities: but of these things hereafter. Proserpina (as the other Godesses had done) made choyce of the medowes about Aetma, to whom there is dedicated by the Syracusians a large fountain called Cyane: but when Pluto had carried away Proserpina to hell in his Chariot, through a cave of the earth near Syracuse, the Syracusians atterwards kept certain holydays every year near Cyane, where they sacrificed privately lesser victimes; publickly they drowned buls in the Lake, in imitation of Hercules who used the like sacrifices when he drove Geryon’s Oxen through Sicila. They report then that Ceres when she could not finde her daughter, took torches which she ;ighted in Aetna, and wander’d through severall parts of the World to finde her out, and that to gratifie those men who had kindely entertained her, she instructed them in the use of Corne; among whom, those who shewed most civility to the Godesse (next to the Sicilians) were the Athenians, who for this reason have honour’d this Godesse above all the rest, both with ample sacrifices, and the mysteries of Eleusina, which for their antiquity and chastenesse are talked of among all men: many of the Athenians having for their civility sake the benefit of Corne bestowed upon them, imparted it to their next neighbours: and from them it came, to be communicated almost to all the World; but the Sicilians being moved by Ceres and Proserpinaes indulgence towards them, (as being the first that received the use of Corne from them ) instituted sacrifices and ceremones to each of them, at a severall season of the year: to Proserpina Autumn with as much purenesse and zeal, as the respect which they owed to so great a benefit did require. But to Ceres in seed-time when they celebrated ten holydays, with all exquisite preparation and magnificence representing their former life: in which dayes they used obscene talke one to another, that thereby the grief which the Godesse conceived for the rape of her daughter might be mitigated by laughter, and scurrilous language. Now all as well Historians as Poets, do affirme that the rape. of Proserpina was in the manner as we have related. . Carcinas a Tragedian who came often to Syracuse, seeing the zeal which was used in those sacrifices, affirmes in a Poem of his, that Proserpina being taken away.by Pluto and carried to hell, Ceres taking fire trom Aetna to search for her made known the use of Corne, for which she was accounted a Godesse. We are not to omit the good turnes of this Godesse done to men, for besides her finding out of Corne, she made Lawes also whereby men might learn to accustome themselves to live justly and piously, whence she was called Dea legifera, the Legislative Godesse, which things are so usefull that none can easily invent greater, seeing that hereby we are taught not only to live, but to live well, and honestly: but of this before.
Via theoi.com, we also learn from Oppian that, once married, Demeter was a vengeful mother-in-law, crushing the nymph Minthe underfoot for having previously had an affair with Hades and then claiming to be more desirable than Persepnhone:
Demeter and Persephone
https://www.theoi.com/Olympios/Demeter.html
Homeric hymn to Demeter https://chs.harvard.edu/primary-source/homeric-hymn-to-demeter-sb/
https://sacred-texts.com/cla/demeter.htm
https://uh.edu/~cldue/texts/demeter.html
Triptolemus and Demophon https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Mortals/Triptolemus/triptolemus.html
https://www.csun.edu/~hcfll004/demeter1.html
https://hellenism.net/greece/greek-mythology/greek-myths/triptolemus/
https://www.theoi.com/Khthonios/HaidesPersephone2.html
https://www.theoi.com/Text/ClaudianProserpine.html CLAUDIAN, RAPE OF PROSERPINE