Tanglewood Tales (20 page)

You may imagine, if you can, how Queen Metanira shrieked, thinking
nothing less than that her dear child would be burned to a cinder. She
burst forth from her hiding-place, and running to the hearth, raked open
the fire, and snatched up poor little Prince Demophoon out of his bed
of live coals, one of which he was gripping in each of his fists. He
immediately set up a grievous cry, as babies are apt to do, when rudely
startled out of a sound sleep. To the queen's astonishment and joy, she
could perceive no token of the child's being injured by the hot fire
in which he had lain. She now turned to Mother Ceres, and asked her to
explain the mystery.

"Foolish woman," answered Ceres, "did you not promise to intrust this
poor infant entirely to me? You little know the mischief you have done
him. Had you left him to my care, he would have grown up like a child of
celestial birth, endowed with superhuman strength and intelligence, and
would have lived forever. Do you imagine that earthly children are to
become immortal without being tempered to it in the fiercest heat of the
fire? But you have ruined your own son. For though he will be a strong
man and a hero in his day, yet, on account of your folly, he will grow
old, and finally die, like the sons of other women. The weak tenderness
of his mother has cost the poor boy an immortality. Farewell."

Saying these words, she kissed the little Prince Demophoon, and sighed
to think what he had lost, and took her departure without heeding Queen
Metanira, who entreated her to remain, and cover up the child among the
hot embers as often as she pleased. Poor baby! He never slept so warmly
again.

While she dwelt in the king's palace, Mother Ceres had been so
continually occupied with taking care of the young prince, that her
heart was a little lightened of its grief for Proserpina. But now,
having nothing else to busy herself about, she became just as wretched
as before. At length, in her despair, she came to the dreadful
resolution that not a stalk of grain, nor a blade of grass, not a
potato, nor a turnip, nor any other vegetable that was good for man
or beast to eat, should be suffered to grow until her daughter were
restored. She even forbade the flowers to bloom, lest somebody's heart
should be cheered by their beauty.

Now, as not so much as a head of asparagus ever presumed to poke itself
out of the ground, without the especial permission of Ceres, you may
conceive what a terrible calamity had here fallen upon the earth. The
husbandmen plowed and planted as usual; but there lay the rich black
furrows, all as barren as a desert of sand. The pastures looked as brown
in the sweet month of June as ever they did in chill November. The rich
man's broad acres and the cottager's small garden patch were equally
blighted. Every little girl's flower bed showed nothing but dry stalks.
The old people shook their white heads, and said that the earth had
grown aged like themselves, and was no longer capable of wearing the
warm smile of summer on its face. It was really piteous to see the poor,
starving cattle and sheep, how they followed behind Ceres, lowing and
bleating, as if their instinct taught them to expect help from her; and
everybody that was acquainted with her power besought her to have mercy
on the human race, and, at all events, to let the grass grow. But
Mother Ceres, though naturally of an affectionate disposition, was now
inexorable.

"Never," said she. "If the earth is ever again to see any verdure, it
must first grow along the path which my daughter will tread in coming
back to me."

Finally, as there seemed to be no other remedy, our old friend
Quicksilver was sent post-haste to King Pluto, in hopes that he might be
persuaded to undo the mischief he had done, and to set everything right
again, by giving up Proserpina. Quicksilver accordingly made the best
of his way to the great gate, took a flying leap right over the
three-headed mastiff, and stood at the door of the palace in an
inconceivably short time. The servants knew him both by his face and
garb; for his short cloak, and his winged cap and shoes, and his snaky
staff had often been seen thereabouts in times gone by. He requested to
be shown immediately into the king's presence; and Pluto, who heard his
voice from the top of the stairs, and who loved to recreate himself with
Quicksilver's merry talk, called out to him to come up. And while they
settle their business together, we must inquire what Proserpina had been
doing ever since we saw her last.

The child had declared, as you may remember, that she would not taste
a mouthful of food as long as she should be compelled to remain in King
Pluto's palace. How she contrived to maintain her resolution, and at the
same time to keep herself tolerably plump and rosy, is more than I can
explain; but some young ladies, I am given to understand, possess the
faculty of living on air, and Proserpina seems to have possessed it too.
At any rate, it was now six months since she left the outside of the
earth; and not a morsel, so far as the attendants were able to testify,
had yet passed between her teeth. This was the more creditable to
Proserpina, inasmuch as King Pluto had caused her to be tempted day by
day, with all manner of sweetmeats, and richly-preserved fruits, and
delicacies of every sort, such as young people are generally most fond
of. But her good mother had often told her of the hurtfulness of these
things; and for that reason alone, if there had been no other, she would
have resolutely refused to taste them.

All this time, being of a cheerful and active disposition, the little
damsel was not quite so unhappy as you may have supposed. The immense
palace had a thousand rooms, and was full of beautiful and wonderful
objects. There was a never-ceasing gloom, it is true, which half hid
itself among the innumerable pillars, gliding before the child as she
wandered among them, and treading stealthily behind her in the echo of
her footsteps. 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. But still, whenever the girl went among those gilded halls and
chambers, it seemed as if she carried nature and sunshine along with
her, and as if she scattered dewy blossoms on her right hand and on her
left. After Proserpina came, the palace was no longer the same abode of
stately artifice and dismal magnificence that it had before been. The
inhabitants all felt this, and King Pluto more than any of them.

"My own little Proserpina," he used to say. "I wish you could like me a
little better. We gloomy and cloudy-natured persons have often as warm
hearts, at bottom, as those of a more cheerful character. 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. Perhaps, too, one day or other, I might come
back, and pay you a visit."

"No, no," answered Pluto, with his gloomy smile, "I will not trust
you for that. You are too fond of living in the broad daylight, and
gathering flowers. What an idle and childish taste that is! Are not
these gems, which I have ordered to be dug for you, and which are richer
than any in my crown—are they not prettier than a violet?"

"Not half so pretty," said Proserpina, snatching the gems from Pluto's
hand, and flinging them to the other end of the hall. "O my sweet
violets, shall I never see you again?"

And then she burst into tears. But young people's tears have very little
saltness or acidity in them, and do not inflame the eyes so much as
those of grown persons; so that it is not to be wondered at, if, a few
moments afterwards, Proserpina was sporting through the hall almost as
merrily as she and the four sea nymphs had sported along the edge of the
surf wave. King Pluto gazed after her, and wished that he, too, was a
child. And little Proserpina, when she turned about, and beheld this
great king standing in his splendid hall, and looking so grand, and so
melancholy, and so lonesome, was smitten with a kind of pity. She ran
back to him, and, for the first time in all her life, put her small,
soft hand in his.

"I love you a little," whispered she, looking up in his face.

"Do you, indeed, my dear child?" cried Pluto, bending his dark face down
to kiss her; but Proserpina shrank away from the kiss, for, though his
features were noble, they were very dusky and grim. "Well, I have not
deserved it of you, after keeping you a prisoner for so many months,
and starving you besides. Are you not terribly hungry? Is there nothing
which I can get you to eat?"

In asking this question, the king of the mines had a very cunning
purpose; for, you will recollect, if Proserpina tasted a morsel of food
in his dominions, she would never afterwards be at liberty to quit them.

"No indeed," said Proserpina. "Your head cook is always baking, and
stewing, and roasting, and rolling out paste, and contriving one dish
or another, which he imagines may be to my liking. But he might just as
well save himself the trouble, poor, fat little man that he is. I have
no appetite for anything in the world, unless it were a slice of bread,
of my mother's own baking, or a little fruit out of her garden."

When Pluto heard this, he began to see that he had mistaken the best
method of tempting Proserpina to eat. The cook's made dishes and
artificial dainties were not half so delicious, in the good child's
opinion, as the simple fare to which Mother Ceres had accustomed her.
Wondering that he had never thought of it before, the king now sent one
of his trusty attendants with a large basket, to get some of the finest
and juiciest pears, peaches, and plums which could anywhere be found in
the upper world. Unfortunately, however, this was during the time when
Ceres had forbidden any fruits or vegetables to grow; and, after
seeking all over the earth, King Pluto's servant found only a
single pomegranate, and that so dried up as not to be worth eating.
Nevertheless, since there was no better to be had, he brought this dry,
old withered pomegranate home to the palace, put it on a magnificent
golden salver, and carried it up to Proserpina. Now, it happened,
curiously enough, that, just as the servant was bringing the pomegranate
into the back door of the palace, our friend Quicksilver had gone up the
front steps, on his errand to get Proserpina away from King Pluto.

As soon as Proserpina saw the pomegranate on the golden salver, she told
the servant he had better take it away again.

"I shall not touch it, I assure you," said she. "If I were ever so
hungry, I should never think of eating such a miserable, dry pomegranate
as that."

"It is the only one in the world," said the servant.

He set down the golden salver, with the wizened pomegranate upon it, and
left the room. When he was gone, Proserpina could not help coming close
to the table, and looking at this poor specimen of dried fruit with a
great deal of eagerness; for, to say the truth, on seeing something
that suited her taste, she felt all the six months' appetite taking
possession of her at once. To be sure, it was a very wretched-looking
pomegranate, and seemed to have no more juice in it than an oyster
shell. But there was no choice of such things in King Pluto's palace.
This was the first fruit she had seen there, and the last she was ever
likely to see; and unless she ate it up immediately, it would grow drier
than it already was, and be wholly unfit to eat.

"At least, I may smell it," thought Proserpina.

So she took up the pomegranate, and applied it to her nose; and, somehow
or other, being in such close neighborhood to her mouth, the fruit found
its way into that little red cave. Dear me! what an everlasting pity!
Before Proserpina knew what she was about, her teeth had actually bitten
it, of their own accord. Just as this fatal deed was done, the door of
the apartment opened, and in came King Pluto, followed by Quicksilver,
who had been urging him to let his little prisoner go. At the first
noise of their entrance, Proserpina withdrew the pomegranate from her
mouth. But Quicksilver (whose eyes were very keen, and his wits the
sharpest that ever anybody had) perceived that the child was a little
confused; and seeing the empty salver, he suspected that she had been
taking a sly nibble of something or other. As for honest Pluto, he never
guessed at the secret.

"My little Proserpina," said the king, sitting down, and affectionately
drawing her between his knees, "here is Quicksilver, who tells me that
a great many misfortunes have befallen innocent people on account of
my detaining you in my dominions. To confess the truth, I myself had
already reflected that it was an unjustifiable act to take you away from
your good mother. But, then, you must consider, my dear child, that this
vast palace is apt to be gloomy (although the precious stones certainly
shine very bright), and that I am not of the most cheerful disposition,
and that therefore it was a natural thing enough to seek for the society
of some merrier creature than myself. I hoped you would take my crown
for a plaything, and me—ah, you laugh, naughty Proserpina—me, grim as
I am, for a playmate. It was a silly expectation."

"Not so extremely silly," whispered Proserpina. "You have really amused
me very much, sometimes."

"Thank you," said King Pluto, rather dryly. "But I can see plainly
enough, that you think my palace a dusky prison, and me the iron-hearted
keeper of it. And an iron heart I should surely have, if I could detain
you here any longer, my poor child, when it is now six months since you
tasted food. I give you your liberty. Go with Quicksilver. Hasten home
to your dear mother."