‘Speak, cursed imps!’ cried the enraged Pluto; and he raised his arm.
‘A man! a man!’ cried Terror. ‘Treason, treason! a man! a man!’
‘What man?’ said Pluto, in a rage.
‘A man, a live man, has entered Hell!’
‘You don’t say so?’ said Proserpine; ‘a man, a live man. Let me see him immediately.’
‘Where is he?’ said Pluto; ‘what is he doing?’
‘He is here, there, and everywhere! asking for your wife, and singing like anything.’
‘Proserpine!’ said Pluto, reproachfully; but, to do the god justice, he was more astounded than jealous.
‘I am sure I shall be delighted to see him; it is so long since I have seen a live man,’ said Proserpine. ‘Who can he be? A man, and a live man! How delightful! It must be a messenger from my mother.’
‘But how came he here?’