Vulcan. When he heard The unwelcome tidings, planning his revenge, He hastened to his smithy, where he forged Chains that no power might loosen or might break, Made to hold fast forever.
When the snare In all its parts was finished, he repaired, Angry with Mars, to where the marriage-bed Stood in his chamber. To the posts he tied The encircling chains on every side, and made Fast to the ceiling many, like the threads Spun by the spider, which no eye could see, Not even of the gods, so artfully He wrought them. Then, as soon as he had wrapped The snare about the bed, he feigned to go To Lemnos nobly built, most dear to him Of all the lands.
But Mars, the god who holds The shining reins, had kept no careless watch, And when he saw the great artificer Depart he went with speed to Vulcan’s house, Drawn thither by the love of her who wears The glittering crown. There Cytherea sat, Arrived that moment from a visit paid. Entering, he took her by the hand and said:—
“Come, my beloved, let us to the couch. Vulcan is here no longer; he is gone, And is among the Sintians, men who speak A barbarous tongue, in Lemnos far away.”
He spake, and she approved his words, and both Lay down upon the bed, when suddenly The network, wrought by Vulcan’s skilful hand, Caught them, and clasped them round, nor could they lift Or move a limb, and saw that no escape Was possible. And now approached the King Of Fire, returning ere he reached the isle Of Lemnos, for the Sun in his behalf Kept watch and told him all. He hastened home In bitterness of heart, but when he reached The threshold stopped. A fury without bounds Possessed him, and he shouted terribly, And called aloud on all the gods of heaven:—