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 has 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
after 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, wherever 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 do now 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. "Oh, 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 to be not 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."
Now, although you may not have supposed it, Proserpina found it
impossible to take leave of poor King Pluto without some regrets, and a
good deal of compunction for not telling him about the pomegranate. She
even shed a tear or two, thinking how lonely and cheerless the great
palace would seem to him, with all its ugly glare of artificial light,
after she herself,--his one little ray of natural sunshine, whom he had
stolen, to be sure, but only because he valued her so much,--after she
should have departed. I know not how many kind things she might have
said to the disconsolate king of the mines, had not Quicksilver hurried
her away.
"Come along quickly," whispered he in her ear, "or his Majesty may
change his royal mind. And take care, above all things, that you say
nothing of what was brought you on the golden salver."
In a very short time, they had passed the great gateway (leaving the
three-headed Cerberus, barking, and yelping, and growling, with
threefold din, behind them), and emerged upon the surface of the earth.
It was delightful to behold, as Proserpina hastened along, how the path
grew verdant behind and on either side of her. Wherever she set her
blessed foot, there was at once a dewy flower. The violets gushed up
along the wayside. The grass and the grain began to sprout with tenfold
vigor and luxuriance, to make up for the dreary months that had been
wasted in barrenness. The starved cattle immediately set to work
grazing, after their long fast, and ate enormously all day, and got up
at midnight to eat more. But I can assure you it was a busy time of year
with the farmers, when they found the summer coming upon them with such
a rush. Nor must I forget to say that all the birds in the whole world
hopped about upon the newly blossoming trees, and sang together in a
prodigious ecstasy of joy.
Mother Ceres had returned to her deserted home, and was sitting
disconsolately on the doorstep, with her torch burning in her hand. She
had been idly watching the flame for some moments past, when, all at
once, it flickered and went out.
"What does this mean?" thought she. "It was an enchanted torch, and
should have kept burning till my child came back."
Lifting her eyes, she was surprised to see a sudden verdure flashing
over the brown and barren fields, exactly as you may have observed a
golden hue gleaming far and wide across the landscape, from the just
risen sun.
"Does the earth disobey me?" exclaimed Mother Ceres, indignantly. "Does
it presume to be green, when I have bidden it be barren, until my
daughter shall be restored to my arms?"
"Then open your arms, dear mother," cried a well-known voice, "and take
your little daughter into them."
And Proserpina came running, and flung herself upon her mother's bosom.
Their mutual transport is not to be described. The grief of their
separation had caused both of them to shed a great many tears; and now
they shed a great many more, because their joy could not so well express
itself in any other way.
When their hearts had grown a little more quiet, Mother Ceres looked
anxiously at Proserpina.
"My child," said she, "did you taste any food while you were in King
Pluto's palace?"
"Dearest mother," answered Proserpina, "I will tell you the whole truth.
Until this very morning, not a morsel of food had passed my lips. But
to-day, they brought me a pomegranate (a very dry one it was, and all
shrivelled up, till there was little left of it but seeds and skin), and
having seen no fruit for so long a time, and being faint with hunger, I
was tempted just to bite it. The instant I tasted it, King Pluto and
Quicksilver came into the room. I had not swallowed a morsel; but--dear
mother, I hope it was no harm--but six of the pomegranate seeds, I am
afraid, remained in my mouth."
"Ah, unfortunate child, and miserable me!" exclaimed Ceres. "For each of
those six pomegranate seeds you must spend one month of every year in
King Pluto's palace. You are but half restored to your mother. Only six
months with me, and six with that good-for-nothing King of Darkness!"
"Do not speak so harshly of poor King Pluto," said Proserpina, kissing
her mother. "He has some very good qualities; and I really think I can
bear to spend six months in his palace, if he will only let me spend the
other six with you. He certainly did very wrong to carry me off; but
then, as he says, it was but a dismal sort of life for him, to live in
that great gloomy place, all alone; and it has made a wonderful change
in his spirits to have a little girl to run up stairs and down. There is
some comfort in making him so happy; and so, upon the whole, dearest
mother, let us be thankful that he is not to keep me the whole year
round."
The Golden Fleece
When Jason, the son of the dethroned King of Iolchos, was a little boy,
he was sent away from his parents, and placed under the queerest
schoolmaster that ever you heard of. This learned person was one of the
people, or quadrupeds, called Centaurs. He lived in a cavern, and had
the body and legs of a white horse, with the head and shoulders of a
man. His name was Chiron; and, in spite of his odd appearance, he was a
very excellent teacher, and had several scholars, who afterwards did him
credit by making a great figure in the world. The famous Hercules was
one, and so was Achilles, and Philoctetes, likewise, and AEsculapius, who
acquired immense repute as a doctor. The good Chiron taught his pupils
how to play upon the harp, and how to cure diseases, and how to use the
sword and shield, together with various other branches of education, in
which the lads of those days used to be instructed, instead of writing
and arithmetic.
I have sometimes suspected that Master Chiron was not really very
different from other people, but that, being a kind-hearted and merry
old fellow, he was in the habit of making believe that he was a horse,
and scrambling about the school-room on all fours, and letting the
little boys ride upon his back. And so, when his scholars had grown up,
and grown old, and were trotting their grandchildren on their knees,
they told them about the sports of their school-days; and these young
folks took the idea that their grandfathers had been taught their
letters by a Centaur, half man and half horse. Little children, not
quite understanding what is said to them, often get such absurd notions
into their heads, you know.
Be that as it may, it has always been told for a fact (and always will
be told, as long as the world lasts), that Chiron, with the head of a
schoolmaster, had the body and legs of a horse. Just imagine the grave
old gentleman clattering and stamping into the school-room on his four
hoofs, perhaps treading on some little fellow's toes, flourishing his
switch tail instead of a rod, and, now and then, trotting out of doors
to eat a mouthful of grass! I wonder what the blacksmith charged him for
a set of iron shoes.
So Jason dwelt in the cave, with this four-footed Chiron, from the time
that he was an infant, only a few months old, until he had grown to the
full height of a man. He became a very good harper, I suppose, and
skilful in the use of weapons, and tolerably acquainted with herbs and
other doctor's stuff, and, above all, an admirable horseman; for, in
teaching young people to ride, the good Chiron must have been without a
rival among schoolmasters. At length, being now a tall and athletic
youth, Jason resolved to seek his fortune in the world, without asking
Chiron's advice, or telling him anything about the matter. This was very
unwise, to be sure; and I hope none of you, my little hearers, will ever
follow Jason's example. But, you are to understand, he had heard how
that he himself was a prince royal, and how his father, King AEson, had
been deprived of the kingdom of Iolchos by a certain Pelias who would
also have killed Jason, had he not been hidden in the Centaur's cave.
And, being come to the strength of a man, Jason determined to set all
this business to rights, and to punish the wicked Pelias for wronging
his dear father, and to cast him down from the throne, and seat himself
there instead.
With this intention, he took a spear in each hand, and threw a leopard's
skin over his shoulders, to keep off the rain, and set forth on his
travels, with his long yellow ringlets waving in the wind. The part of
his dress on which he most prided himself was a pair of sandals, that
had been his father's. They were handsomely embroidered, and were tied
upon his feet with strings of gold. But his whole attire was such as
people did not very often see; and as he passed along, the women and
children ran to the doors and windows, wondering whither this beautiful
youth was journeying, with his leopard's skin and his golden-tied
sandals, and what heroic deeds he meant to perform, with a spear in his
right hand and another in his left.
[Illustration: JASON AND HIS TEACHER]
I know not how far Jason had travelled, when he came to a turbulent
river, which rushed right across his pathway, with specks of white foam
among its black eddies, hurrying tumultuously onward, and roaring
angrily as it went. Though not a very broad river in the dry seasons of
the year, it was now swollen by heavy rains and by the melting of the
snow on the sides of Mount Olympus; and it thundered so loudly, and
looked so wild and dangerous, that Jason, bold as he was, thought it
prudent to pause upon the brink. The bed of the stream seemed to be
strewn with sharp and rugged rocks, some of which thrust themselves
above the water. By and by, an uprooted tree, with shattered branches,
came drifting along the current, and got entangled among the rocks. Now
and then, a drowned sheep, and once the carcass of a cow, floated past.
In short, the swollen river had already done a great deal of mischief.
It was evidently too deep for Jason to wade, and too boisterous for him
to swim; he could see no bridge; and as for a boat, had there been any,
the rocks would have broken it to pieces in an instant.
"See the poor lad," said a cracked voice close to his side. "He must
have had but a poor education, since he does not know how to cross a
little stream like this. Or is he afraid of wetting his fine
golden-stringed sandals? It is a pity his four-footed schoolmaster is
not here to carry him safely across on his back!"
Jason looked round greatly surprised, for he did not know that anybody
was near. But beside him stood an old woman, with a ragged mantle over
her head, leaning on a staff, the top of which was carved into the shape
of a cuckoo. She looked very aged, and wrinkled, and infirm; and yet her
eyes, which were as brown as those of an ox, were so extremely large and
beautiful, that, when they were fixed on Jason's eyes, he could see
nothing else but them. The old woman had a pomegranate in her hand,
although the fruit was then quite out of season.
"Whither are you going, Jason?" she now asked.
She seemed to know his name, you will observe; and, indeed, those great
brown eyes looked as if they had a knowledge of everything, whether past
or to come. While Jason was gazing at her, a peacock strutted forward
and took his stand at the old woman's side.
"I am going to Iolchos," answered the young man, "to bid the wicked King
Pelias come down from my father's throne, and let me reign in his
stead."
"Ah, well, then," said the old woman, still with the same cracked voice,
"if that is all your business, you need not be in a very great hurry.
Just take me on your back, there's a good youth, and carry me across the
river. I and my peacock have something to do on the other side, as well
as yourself."
"Good mother," replied Jason, "your business can hardly be so important
as the pulling down a king from his throne. Besides, as you may see for
yourself, the river is very boisterous; and if I should chance to
stumble, it would sweep both of us away more easily than it has carried
off yonder uprooted tree. I would gladly help you if I could; but I
doubt whether I am strong enough to carry you across."
"Then," said she, very scornfully, "neither are you strong enough to
pull King Pelias off his throne. And, Jason, unless you will help an old
woman at her need, you ought not to be a king. What are kings made for,
save to succor the feeble and distressed? But do as you please. Either
take me on your back, or with my poor old limbs I shall try my best to
struggle across the stream."
Saying this, the old woman poked with her staff in the river, as if to
find the safest place in its rocky bed where she might make the first
step. But Jason, by this time, had grown ashamed of his reluctance to
help her. He felt that he could never forgive himself, if this poor
feeble creature should come to any harm in attempting to wrestle against
the headlong current. The good Chiron, whether half horse or no, had
taught him that the noblest use of his strength was to assist the weak;
and also that he must treat every young woman as if she were his sister,
and every old one like a mother. Remembering these maxims, the vigorous
and beautiful young man knelt down, and requested the good dame to mount
upon his back.
"The passage seems to me not very safe," he remarked. "But as your
business is so urgent, I will try to carry you across. If the river
sweeps you away, it shall take me too."
"That, no doubt, will be a great comfort to both of us," quoth the old
woman. "But never fear. We shall get safely across."