Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/185

VIII. In secret darkness of his inmost soul Contriving vengeance; to the stock he heav'd His anvil huge, on which he forged a snare Of bands indissoluble, by no art To be untied, durance for ever firm. The net prepared, he bore it, fiery-wroth, To his own chamber and his nuptial couch, Where, stretching them from post to post, he wrapp'd With those fine meshes all his bed around, And hung them num'rous from the roof, diffused Like spiders' filaments, which not the Gods Themselves could see, so subtle were the toils. When thus he had encircled all his bed On ev'ry side, he feign'd a journey thence To Lemnos, of all cities that adorn The earth, the city that he favours most. Nor kept the God of the resplendent reins Mars, drowsy watch, but seeing that the famed Artificer of heav'n had left his home, Flew to the house of Vulcan, hot to enjoy The Goddess with the wreath-encircled brows. She, newly from her potent Sire return'd The son of Saturn, sat. Mars, ent'ring, seiz'd Her hand, hung on it, and thus urg'd his suit. To bed, my fair, and let us love! for lo! Thine husband is from home, to Lemnos gone, And to the Sintians, men of barb'rous speech.