Then, soon as rest, first indulged, had driven sleep 5
away, when flying night had run half her course; just
when a woman, compelled to support life by spinning,
even by Pallas’ slender craft, wakes to light the fire that
slumbered in the embers, adding night to her day’s work,
and keeps her handmaids labouring long by the blaze, all 10
that she may preserve her husband’s bed unsullied, and
bring up his infant sons; even so the lord of fire, at an
hour not less slothful, rises from his couch of down to
the toils of the artisan. There rises an island hard by