She led her in, and in a chair of silver (being the fruit Of Vulcan’s hand) she made her sit, a footstool of a suit Apposing to her crystal feet; and call’d the God of fire, For Thetis was arriv’d, she said, and entertain’d desire Of some grace that his art might grant. “Thetis to me,” said he, “Is mighty, and most reverend, as one that nourish’d me, When grief consum’d me, being cast from heaven by want of shame In my proud mother, who, because she brought me forth so lame, Would have me made away; and then, had I been much distress’d Had Thetis and Eurynome in either’s silver breast Not rescu’d me; Eurynome that to her father had Reciprocal Oceanus. Nine years with them I made A number of well-arted things, round bracelets, buttons brave, Whistles, and carquenets. My forge stood in a hollow cave, About which, murmuring with foam, th’ unmeasur’d ocean Was ever beating; my abode known nor to God nor man, But Thetis and Eurynome, and they would see me still, They were my loving guardians. Now then the starry hill, And our particular roof, thus grac’d with bright-hair’d Thetis here, It fits me always to repay, a recompense as dear To her thoughts, as my life to me. Haste, Charis, and appose Some dainty guest-rites to our friend, while I my bellows loose From fire, and lay up all my tools.” Then from an anvil rose Th’ unwieldy monster, halt’d down, and all awry he went. He took his bellows from the fire, and ev’ry instrument Lock’d safe up in a silver chest. Then with a sponge he drest His face all over, neck and hands, and all his hairy breast; Put on his coat, his sceptre took, and then went halting forth, Handmaids of gold attending him, resembling in all worth Living young damsels, fill’d with minds and wisdom, and were train’d In all immortal ministry, virtue and voice contain’d, And mov’d with voluntary pow’rs; and these still wait’d on Their fi’ry sov’reign, who (not apt to walk) sate near the throne Of fair-hair’d Thetis, took her hand, and thus he court’d her: “For what affair, O fair-train’d queen, rev’rend to me, and dear, Is our court honour’d with thy state, that hast not heretofore Perform’d this kindness? Speak thy thoughts, thy suit can be no more Than my mind gives me charge to grant. Can my pow’r get it wrought? Or that it have not only pow’r of only act in thought?” She thus: “O Vulcan, is there one, of all that are of heav’n, That in her never-quiet mind Saturnius hath giv’n So much affliction as to me: whom only he subjects, Of all the sea-nymphs, to a man; and makes me bear th’ affects Of his frail bed; and all against the freedom of my will; And he worn to his root with age? From him another ill Ariseth to me; Jupiter, you know, hath giv’n a son, The excellent’st of men, to me; whose education On my part well hath answered his own worth, having grown As in a fruitful soil a tree, that puts not up alone His body to a naked height, but jointly gives his growth A thousand branches; yet to him so short a life I brought,