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Updated: May 10, 2025
And not only in her did the change appear. About her, on all sides, the grass and corn came shooting through the dry brown earth. Violets, hyacinths, daisies were everywhere, and Proserpina stooped and caressed them, with a gay laugh. But what was her joy when she saw at the door of her home Mother Ceres, with arms outstretched to greet her!
Two black horses, with smoke coming out of their nostrils and with long black tails and flowing black manes, came tearing their way out of the earth, and a splendid golden chariot was rattling at their heels. The horses leaped out of the hole, chariot and all, and came close to the spot where Proserpina stood. Then she saw there was a man in the chariot.
If you would only stay with me of your own accord, it would make me happier than the possession of a hundred such palaces as this." "Ah," said Proserpina, "you should have tried to make me like you before carrying me off. And the best thing you can now do is, to let me go again. Then I might remember you sometimes, and think that you were as kind as you knew how to be.
"Come! Will not you like to ride a little way with me, in my beautiful chariot?" But Proserpina was so alarmed that she wished for nothing but to get out of his reach. And no wonder. The stranger did not look remarkably good-natured, in spite of his smile; and as for his voice, its tones were deep and stern, and sounded as much like the rumbling of an earthquake under ground as anything else.
As soon as Proserpina saw the pomegranate on the golden plate, she told the servant to take it away again. "I shall not touch it, I can assure you," she said. "If I were ever so hungry, I should not think of eating such a dried-up miserable pomegranate as that." "It is the only one in the world," said the servant, and he set down the plate and went away.
Then it is Drive on Coachman, and away fly the poor jades through the streets, striking fire out of the liveless stones, as if Pluto just at the same time were upon the flight with his Proserpina through the City. But, O new married couple, what price do you little think this mirth will stand you at?
She was on the point of turning back in order to rejoin the sea nymphs, and sit with them on the moist sands, all twining wreaths together. But, a little farther on, what should she behold? It was a large shrub, completely covered with the most magnificent flowers in the world. "The darlings!" cried Proserpina; and then she thought to herself, "I was looking at that spot only a moment ago.
That, however, does not seem extremely likely, as the ancients, although they believed in the life of the soul after death, conceived of that life as something far from pleasant, even for those who had led good lives. The story of Proserpina has been used as a subject for many paintings.
Neither was all the dazzle of the precious stones, which flamed with their own light, worth one gleam of natural sunshine; nor could the most brilliant of the many-colored gems, which Proserpina had for playthings, vie with the simple beauty of the flowers she used to gather.
"Will not you stay a moment," asked Phœbus, "and hear me turn the pretty and touching story of Proserpina into extemporary verses?" But Ceres shook her head, and hastened away, along with Hecate. But when a poet gets into the habit of using his heartstrings to make chords for his lyre, he may thrum upon them as much as he will, without any great pain to himself.
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