Part 11 (2/2)

Then a voice--the voice of the river G.o.d Alpheus--was heard, calling to her in pleading accents to stay her flight and lend an ear to his wooing; but when the impetuous G.o.d, instead of waiting for an answer to his suit, rose up out of the water and rushed to clasp her in his arms, she turned and fled in great terror. She fled, but he pursued. Over hill and dale, through forest and field, Arethusa ran, still closely followed by her too ardent lover, until, exhausted, she paused for breath, crying aloud to Diana to come to her rescue.

Her prayer was answered. A moment later she was enveloped in a thick mist and transformed into a fountain. Alpheus could no longer see her, but wandered about, bewailing her disappearance, and calling her in pa.s.sionate accents.

”'O Arethusa, peerless nymph! why fear Such tenderness as mine? Great Dian, why, Why didst thou hear her prayer? Oh that I Were rippling round her dainty fairness now, Circling about her waist, and striving how To entice her to a dive! then stealing in Between her luscious lips and eyelids thin.'”

Keats.

The misty cloud in which Arethusa had been enveloped by Diana's protecting care was soon blown away by a mischievous breath from Zephyrus; and Alpheus, who was still hovering near there, suddenly beholding a fountain where none had ever existed before, surmised what had happened. Changing himself into an impetuous torrent, he rushed to join his beloved, who sprang out of her mossy bed, and hurried on over sticks and stones, until Diana, seeing her new plight, opened a crevice, through which she glided away from the bright sunlight she loved so well into the depths of Pluto's realm.

While gliding there in the gloom, Arethusa had caught a glimpse of Proserpina on her sable throne, beside the stern-browed Pluto. She could not, however, pause to inquire how she came there, but hurried on breathlessly, until another crevice offered her the means of returning to the upper world, and seeing once more the blue sky and sun on the Sicilian plains.

The monotonous murmur of the fountain now subsided again into its usual undertone; and Ceres, knowing where to seek her daughter, was about to depart, when she heard the sudden rush and roar of a large body of water. She immediately turned, and beheld the torrent Alpheus, who, after a disconsolate search underground for the lost Arethusa, had found a crevice, through which he pa.s.sed to join his beloved on the Sicilian plains.

”Alpheus, Elis' stream, they say, Beneath the seas here found his way, And now his waters interfuse With thine, O fountain Arethuse, Beneath Sicilian skies.”

Virgil (Conington's tr.).

In spite of her previous efforts to escape him, Arethusa must still have been very glad to see him once more, for Ceres heard her murmur contentedly as she sank into his arms and listened to his louder tones of rapturous love.

Maidens in Greece were wont to throw fresh garlands into the Alpheus River; and it was said the selfsame flowers, carried away by his current, soon reappeared in the Sicilian fountain, carried there as love offerings by the enamored river.

”O my beloved, how divinely sweet Is the pure joy when kindred spirits meet! Like him, the river G.o.d, whose waters flow, With love their only light, through caves below, Wafting in triumph all the flowery braids And festal rings, with which Olympic maids Have decked his current, an offering meet To lay at Arethusa's s.h.i.+ning feet. Think when at last he meets his fountain bride What perfect love must thrill the blended tide! And lost in each, till mingling into one, Their lot the same for shadow or for sun, A type of true love, to the deep they run.”

Moore.

[Sidenote: Ceres' mourning.]

Now, although poor Ceres had ascertained where to find her missing daughter, her grief was not at all diminished, for she felt convinced that Pluto would never willingly relinquish her. She therefore withdrew into a dark cave to mourn unseen, and still further neglected her wonted duties.

Famine threatened to visit the people, and they prayed and clamored for her aid; but, absorbed in grief, she paid no heed to their distress, and vowed that nothing on earth should grow, with her permission, as long as her daughter was detained in Hades. In despair at this frightful state of affairs, the people then besought Jupiter to pity the sufferings they endured, and to allow Proserpina to revisit the upper world once more.

”Arise, and set the maiden free; Why should the world such sorrow dree By reason of Persephone?”

Ingelow.

As soon as she became aware of this pet.i.tion, Ceres hastened to Olympus, to join her supplications to the cries which rose from all parts of the earth; until Jupiter, wearied by these importunities, consented to Proserpina's return, upon condition, however, that she had not touched any food during the whole time of her sojourn in the Infernal Regions.

”Last, Zeus himself, Pitying the evil that was done, sent forth His messenger beyond the western rim To fetch me back to earth.”

Lewis Morris.

[Sidenote: The pomegranate seeds.]

Ceres in person hastened to her daughter's new abode, and was about to lead her away in spite of Pluto, when a spirit, Ascalaphus, suddenly declared that the queen had partaken of some pomegranate seeds that very day. Proserpina could not refute the charge, and Jupiter decreed that for every seed she had eaten she should spend one month of every year in her husband's gloomy kingdom.

Thus it came about that Proserpina was condemned to spend one half the year in Hades, and could linger on the bright earth only for six months at a time.

Mercury was chosen to lead her to and from Hades; and, whenever he brought her out of her gloomy prison, the skies became blue and sunny, the gra.s.s sprang fresh and green beneath her elastic tread, the flowers bloomed along her way, the birds trilled forth their merry lays, and all was joy and brightness.

”And when, in springtime, with sweet-smelling flowers Of various kinds the earth doth bloom, thou'lt come From gloomy darkness back--a mighty joy To G.o.ds and mortal men.”

Homeric Hymn.

[Sidenote: Proserpina's return.]

Ceres, happy once more in the possession of her beloved daughter, cheerfully and diligently attended to all her duties, and blessed the earth with plenty; but when the six months were over, and the skies wept and all nature mourned Proserpina's departure, she again returned to her cave, whence no entreaties could draw her.

As for the merry, happy-natured Proserpina, the moment Hades' portals closed behind her, she became pale and melancholy; and none would have dreamed the playful, flower-crowned G.o.ddess of Vegetation was identical with the sad-faced, sable-vested Queen of Hades (now called Hecate), who held a pomegranate in one hand, and a torch in the other. Proserpina, like Adonis, was the personification of vegetation, visibly prosperous during the six favorable months of the year, and lurking hidden under the cold ground during the remainder of the time.

[Sidenote: Wors.h.i.+p of Ceres.]

Many beautiful temples were dedicated to Ceres and Proserpina in Greece and Italy, where yearly festivals, the Thesmophoria and the Cerealia, were celebrated with great pomp.

”To Ceres chief her annual rites be paid, On the green turf, beneath a fragrant shade, When winter ends, and spring serenely s.h.i.+nes, Then fat the lambs, then mellow are the wines, Then sweet are slumbers on the flowery ground, Then with thick shades are lofty mountains crown'd. Let all the hinds bend low at Ceres' shrine; Mix honey sweet, for her, with milk and mellow wine; Thrice lead the victim the new fruits around, And Ceres call, and choral hymns resound: Presume not, swains, the ripen'd grain to reap, Till crown'd with oak in antic dance ye leap, Invoking Ceres, and in solemn lays, Exalt your rural queen's immortal praise.”

Virgil (C. Pitt's tr.).

To commemorate her long search for her daughter, Ceres returned to Eleusis, taught her former nursling, Triptolemus, the various secrets of agriculture, and gave him her chariot, bidding him travel everywhere, and teach the people how to plow, sow, and reap; and then she inst.i.tuted the Eleusinia, festivals held in honor of her daughter and herself at Eleusis.

Triptolemus did not fail to carry out the G.o.ddess's instructions, and journeyed far and wide, until he finally reached the court of Lyncus, King of Scythia, where the false monarch would have treacherously slain him had not Ceres by timely interference prevented the execution of his base purpose by changing the traitor into a lynx, the emblem of perfidy.

Ceres was generally represented as a fair, matronly woman, clad in flowing draperies, sometimes crowned with wheat ears, and bearing a sheaf of grain and a sickle, or with a plow and a horn of plenty disgorging its wealth of fruit and flowers at her feet. Groves were frequently dedicated to her; and any mortal rash enough to lay the ax on one of these sacred trees was sure to incur the G.o.ddess's wrath, as is proved by the story of Erisichthon.

[Sidenote: Story of Erisichthon.]

This man was evidently a freethinker, and, to show his contempt for the superst.i.tious veneration paid to Ceres' trees, took his ax and cut down one of her sacred oaks. At his first blow, blood began to flow from the tree; but, undeterred by the phenomenon or the entreaties of the bystanders, Erisichthon continued. Finally, annoyed by the importunities of the spectators, he turned and slew one or two, and then completed his sacrilege.

Ceres, incensed by his insolence and cruelty, devised a terrible chastis.e.m.e.nt for the unfortunate man, and sent Famine to gnaw his vitals, and torment him night and day. The wretch, tortured by a hunger which no amount of food could allay, disposed of all his property to obtain the means of procuring nourishment; but his monstrous appet.i.te continued, and, as he had but one daughter left, he sold her as a slave to obtain food.

The girl's master left her alone for a moment upon the seash.o.r.e, and, in answer to her prayer, Neptune delivered her from servitude by changing her into a fisherman. When the master returned and found his slave gone, he questioned the fisherman, and, not obtaining any satisfactory information, departed. Neptune then restored the maiden to her own form, and let her return home; but, as her father sold her again, the G.o.d was obliged to interfere once more in her behalf, until at last Erisichthon, deprived of means to procure food, devoured himself.

[Sidenote: Ceres and Stellio.]

Another anecdote ill.u.s.trating Ceres' power is told about a lad, Stellio, who made fun of the G.o.ddess when she was journeying, on account of the haste with which she disposed of a bowl of gruel offered by some charitable person. To punish the boy for his rudeness, Ceres flung the remainder of her gruel into his face, and changed him into a lizard.

CHAPTER XV.

VESTA.

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