PROSERPINA AND KING PLUTO
Little Proserpina and Mother Ceres lived in the beautiful valley of Enna where the warm sun shone all the year round. Mother Ceres had plenty of work to do. Each day she made a journey to the meadows, orchards, and fields all over the earth. Indeed it was through her watchful care that the grass grew, and flowers bloomed, that the fruit ripened, and the precious crops of barley, wheat, and rye brought forth a bountiful harvest.
One day at dawn a shining car and a pair of restless winged dragons stood waiting to take Mother Ceres on her daily journey. The dragons were impatient to start, for they knew how much work had to be done each day. Very soon Ceres glided forth and mounted her splendid car. She was clothed in flowing robes of the softest grey and on her head she wore a crown of scarlet poppies and golden wheat.
“Farewell, little daughter,” she called. “I shall come back before the dew falls. Do not venture out of the valley to-day. Farewell!” Off sped the winged dragons with Mother Ceres. Little Proserpina did not mind being left in the valley for she found a good deal of amusement there. Her friends the naiads—beautiful water nymphs—sported about in the cool fountains. Proserpina loved to spend a quiet hour with these gentle maidens. She often played a merry game with Echo, a nymph who lived on a far-off wooded hillside; sometimes she danced in the sunshine with her little playmates.
Mother Ceres’ shining car soon disappeared and little Proserpina ran to some of her companions and said, “Come, come! I hear Pan, the shepherd boy, playing the sweetest music on his reed-pipes! Let us dance in the sunshine! Come!”
In her gayest mood she led the dance to the very edge of a deep wood which bordered the valley. Then the train of little maidens stopped suddenly and listened. Peals of boisterous laughter broke the silence. In the depths of the forest the queerest youths were rollicking about. They had snub noses, hairy ears, and tiny sprouting horns; their hips were covered with shaggy hair and their feet were exactly like a goat’s.
“Hush,” whispered Proserpina, “the madcap satyrs are dancing too. Let us hasten away.”
“We will gather flowers and make garlands,” said one of the maidens.
They slipped quietly away from the noisy wood and ran about in all directions to search for fragrant blossoms,—lilies and violets, hyacinth bells and pinks. The little maidens soon filled their arms with flowers and sat down on a mossy bank to weave garlands.
In her eagerness to find the loveliest blossoms Proserpina had sauntered off a long way from her companions. She could hear the faint echo of their merry voices in the distance.
“Oh, I have wandered out of the valley,” she thought. “I must hasten back with these lovely flowers. What beauties I have found!”
She turned to run toward the bank where her companions were sitting, when she heard a queer rumbling noise. What could it be! It sounded exactly like distant thunder, yet there was not a cloud in the blue sky overhead. There was another rumbling. Was it coming nearer? The earth beneath her feet quivered! Then in breathless fear she saw a great crack in the field! She was too frightened to move or speak. The flowers she had gathered dropped from her trembling hands. Out of the great cavity which seemed to widen every moment Proserpina saw dashing toward her four jet black horses with flashing eyes and quivering nostrils. At their heels whirled a wonderful golden chariot with jewelled wheels. Standing in this splendid car was a dark-browed man whose iron-crown was studded with precious stones of many colours. In one hand he lightly held the reins and guided the fiery steeds; in the other, he held a two-pronged fork.
“King Pluto!” gasped Proserpina. In a twinkling the King of the Underworld leaped from his chariot, seized Proserpina in his arms, mounted his chariot again and sped away over the hills.
Proserpina’s low cry of “Help! help! Mother! Mother Ceres!” was too faint to reach the ears of the merry companions who were very busy with their flowers.
“What has become of Proserpina?” cried one of them when she had finished her garland.
They looked in the direction where but a moment ago Proserpina was gathering flowers, but they could not see her.
“I wonder where she has gone,” said another. “Surely she has not wandered out of the valley!”
“Proserpina! Proserpina!” called the little companions becoming alarmed.
But no answer could come from the captured maiden who was whirling along beyond the distant hills. In vain did the dark-browed King try to calm his captive by declaring that no harm should come to her. In vain did he promise that she should share his throne and his riches.
“I want to go home to Mother Ceres,” sobbed Proserpina.
But King Pluto was deaf to her pleading; he urged his horses to go faster and faster until finally they came to the River Cyane whose waters began to seethe and foam in a very threatening manner. Little Proserpina knew the waters of this river were angry because she was made a captive. Quickly she loosened her girdle and flung it into the raging flood. Now King Pluto was afraid to risk his fiery steeds in the angry stream, so he determined to plunge at once into the depths of his kingdom. With his two-pronged fork he struck a mighty blow on the earth. Instantly a great crevice opened and gave him passage to the Underworld.
Phœbus Apollo had almost finished his day’s journey and was driving his beautiful sun-car down the steep slope of the western sky. Mother Ceres’ winged dragons were hastening to the valley of Enna. Proserpina always bounded forth with a cry of welcome, so when Mother Ceres missed her little daughter’s joyous words she called, “Proserpina! Proserpina!” There was no answer. What could be the matter! Mother Ceres’ heart beat fast! She sought the little maidens of the valley who were her daughter’s playmates and listened in trembling fear to the story they told about Proserpina’s sudden disappearance. Ceres lighted a torch and continued her search all night. At dawn the distracted mother was in despair, for she could find no trace of her lost child. She questioned the Naiads, the Nymphs, Pan, the shepherd boy, and Echo, but not one of them could give her tidings of Proserpina. For a long time the poor mother continued her wanderings from dawn until eventide all the world over.
One day she happened to wander near the River Cyane and there floating near the water’s edge she saw Proserpina’s girdle. Eagerly she grasped it in her hands and stood in breathless silence. A low murmuring sound reached her ears. Did it come from a nearby fountain? Ceres listened very carefully. “Proserpina! King Pluto!” whispered a voice from the cool depths of the clear water. In a moment Mother Ceres knew the truth about her little daughter’s disappearance. She had been captured by the King of the Underworld! Ceres could take no comfort in this knowledge for she knew King Pluto would do all in his power to keep his captive. In despair the poor mother withdrew to a dark cave to nurse her grief.
“Until Proserpina is returned to me no vegetation shall grow on the earth,” vowed Mother Ceres.
The gentle rain no longer refreshed the grass and drooping flowers; the withered leaves dropped from the trees; the fruit became parched and dry, and the precious grain failed to ripen! Alas! Famine spread throughout the land!
“Mother Ceres,” cried the people, “we implore you to give us your aid. Bring back the flowers and the fruit, and the grain. We shall starve without your help.”
“Not until my child is returned to me,” answered Ceres.
Finally Jupiter’s heart was touched by the distress of the people. He sent for Mother Ceres and said, “If your daughter Proserpina has refused to eat any of King Pluto’s pomegranate seeds during her stay in the underworld she shall return to the earth and never again disappear. My swift-footed messenger Mercury shall go at once to Pluto’s palace and state my will in this matter.”
Mercury put on his wonderful cap and winged sandals and sped away to deliver Jupiter’s message. At first King Pluto was angry when he heard that his merry little companion was to be taken from him, but of course he could not disregard Jupiter’s command, so Proserpina was led back into the sunlight.
How happy Mother Ceres was! She could not keep back tears of joy.
“Now the fields shall be covered with verdure; the soft showers shall fall and earth shall bring forth a bountiful harvest!” she declared. “Proserpina, my child, you shall never again leave me. King Pluto cannot demand your return unless you have eaten some of his pomegranate seeds.”
Then little Proserpina looked up into her mother’s face and said, “Mother dear, I must tell you the truth. A little while before Mercury came with his message I ate six of King Pluto’s pomegranate seeds. I was very, very hungry, mother.”
“Alas! Alas!” cried Ceres, feeling alarmed again. She hastened to Jupiter and asked him what could be done. Jupiter looked very serious, and finally decreed that for each pomegranate seed which Proserpina had eaten she should spend one month of each year in King Pluto’s Kingdom.
“Six months of each year my child must spend in that dark underworld! It is dreadful!” declared Ceres.
“Do not grieve, mother,” said Proserpina cheerily. “At first the dark-browed King frightened me very much but I soon found that he is kind and gracious. Let us be happy because I am to spend six months of each year here with you. During my stay with King Pluto you shall take a long rest from your hard work in the fields.”
So it happened that Proserpina spent half of each year in the dark underworld. But every springtime when the warm sun gladdened the earth, Mercury was sent to bring Proserpina back to Mother Ceres. And at the coming of the joyous little maiden the grass leaped forth in the brown fields, flowers gay brightened the meadows and from the tops of the budding trees the birds carolled songs of welcome.