“Ye forty thousand gods,
Ye four hundred thousand gods,
Ye rows of gods,
Ye assemblies of gods,
Ye older brothers of the gods,
Ye four-fold gods,
Ye five-fold gods,
Take away from me my beauty, make it hidden:
Give me the form of a crone, bowed and blear-eyed.”
And when she had said that, her beauty was taken away from her, and she appeared as an old woman, bent and wandering, with a stick in her hand, gathering sea-eggs.