So spake she, and with her immortal hands she placed the child on her
fragrant breast, and the mother was glad at heart. So in the halls she
nursed the goodly son of wise Celeus, even Demophoon, whom deep-breasted
Metaneira bare, and he grew like a god, upon no mortal food, nor on no
mother's milk. For Demeter anointed him with ambrosia as though he had
been a son of a God, breathing sweetness over him, and keeping him in her
bosom. So wrought she by day, but at night she was wont to hide him in
the force of fire like a brand, his dear parents knowing it not. {196}
Nay, to them it was great marvel how flourished he and grew like the Gods
to look upon. And, verily, she would have made him exempt from eld and
death for ever, had not fair-girdled Metaneira, in her witlessness, spied
on her in the night from her fragrant chamber. Then wailed she, and
smote both her thighs, in terror for her child, and in anguish of heart,
and lamenting she spake winged words: "My child Demophoon, the stranger
is concealing thee in the heart of the fire; bitter sorrow for me and
lamentation."

So spake she, wailing, and the lady Goddess heard her. Then in wrath did
the fair-garlanded Demeter snatch out of the fire with her immortal hands
and cast upon the ground that woman's dear son, whom beyond all hope she
had borne in the halls. Dread was the wrath of Demeter, and anon she
spake to fair-girdled Metaneira. "Oh redeless and uncounselled race of
men, that know not beforehand the fate of coming good or coming evil.
For, lo, thou hast wrought upon thyself a bane incurable, by thine own
witlessness; for by the oath of the Gods, the relentless water of Styx, I
would have made thy dear child deathless and exempt from age for ever,
and would have given him glory imperishable. But now in nowise may he
escape the Fates and death, yet glory imperishable will ever be his,
since he has lain on my knees and slept within my arms; [but as the years
go round, and in his day, the sons of the Eleusinians will ever wage war