When the ancient gods were turned out of Olympus, and the groan of dying
Pan shook the world like an earthquake, none of the fallen deities was
so disconsolate as Proserpine. She wandered across the world, assuming
now this shape and now that, but nowhere could she find a resting-place
or a home. In the Southern country which she regarded as her own,
whatever shape or disguise she assumed, whether that of a gleaner or of
an old woman begging for alms, the country people would scent something
uncanny about her and chase her from the place. Thus it was that she
left the Southern country, which she loved; she said farewell to the
azure skies, the hills covered with corn and fringed everywhere with
rose bushes, the white oxen, the cypress, the olive, the vine, the
croaking frogs, and the million fireflies; and she sought the green
pastures and the woods of a Northern country.
One evening, not long after her arrival (it was Midsummer Eve), as
she was wandering in a thick wood, she noticed that the trees and the
under-growth were twinkling with a myriad soft flames which reminded her
of the fireflies of her own country, and presently she perceived that
these flames were stars which, soft as dew and bright as moonbeams,
formed the diadems crowning the hair of unearthly shapes. These shapes
were like those of men and maidens, transfigured and rendered strange
and delicate, as light as foam, and radiant as dragonflies hovering over
a pool. They were rimmed with rainbow-coloured films, and sometimes
they flew and sometimes they danced, but they rarely seemed to touch
the ground. And as Proserpine approached them, in the sad majesty of
her fallen divinity, they gathered round her in a circle and bowed down
before her. And one of them, taller than the rest, advanced towards her
and said:--
“We are the Fairies, and for a long time we have been mournful, for we
have lost our Queen, our beautiful Queen. She loved a mortal, and on
this account she was banished from Fairyland, nor may she ever revisit
the haunt and the kingdom that were hers. But Merlin, the oldest and the
wisest of the wizards, told us we should find another Queen, and that we
should know her by the poppies in her hair, the whiteness of her brow,
and the stillness of her eyes, and with or without such tokens we should
know, as soon as we set eyes on her, that it was she and no other who
was to be our Queen. And now we know that it was you and no other.
Therefore shall you be our Queen and rule over us until he comes who,
Merlin said, shall conquer your kingdom and deliver its secrets to the
mortal world. Then shall you abandon the kingdom of the Fairies--the
everlasting Limbo shall receive you.”
* * * * *
It was one summer’s day a long time ago, many and many years after
Proserpine had become Queen of the Fairies, that a butcher’s apprentice
called William was enjoying a holiday, and strolling in the woods with
no other purpose than to stroll and enjoy the fresh air and the cool
leaves and the song of the birds. William loved the sights and sounds
of the country; unlike many boys of his age, he was not deeply versed
in the habits of birds and beasts, but devoted his spare time to reading
such books as he could borrow from the village schoolmaster whose school
he had lately left to go into trade, or to taking part in the games of
his companions, for he loved human fellowship and the talk and laughter
of his fellow-creatures.
The day was hot--it was Midsummer Day--and William, having stumbled on a
convenient mound, fell asleep. And he dreamt a curious dream. He thought
he saw a beautiful maiden walking towards him. She was tall, and clothed
in dark draperies, and her hair was bound with a coronal of scarlet
flowers, her face was pale and lustrous, and he could not see her eyes
because they were veiled. She approached him and said:--
“You are he who has been chosen to try to conquer my kingdom, which is
faery, and to possess it: if, indeed, you are able to endure the
fierce ordeal and to perform the three dreadful tasks which have been
appointed. If he who sets out to conquer my kingdom should fail in any
one of the three tasks he dies, and the world hears of him no more. Many
have tried and failed.”
And William said he would try with all his might to conquer the faery
kingdom, and he asked what the three tasks might be.
The maiden, who was none other than Proserpine, Queen of the Fairies,
told him that the first task was to pluck the crystal apple from the
laughing tree, and second to pluck the blood-red rose from the fiery
rose tree, and the third to cull the white poppy from the quiet fields.
William asked her how he was to set about these tasks. Proserpine told
him that he had but to accept the quest and all would be made clear. So
he accepted the quest without further talk.
Immediately Proserpine vanished, and William found himself in a large
green garden of fruit trees, and in the distance he heard the noise of
rippling laughter. He walked along many paths to the place whence he
thought the laughter came, until he found a large fruit tree which grew
by itself. It was laden with fruit, and from one of its boughs hung a
crystal apple which shone with all the colours of the rainbow.
But the tree was guarded by a hideous old hag, covered with sores and
leprous scales, loathsome to behold. And a laughing voice came from
the tree saying: “He who would pluck the crystal apple must embrace its
guardian.” And William looked at her and felt no loathing but rather a
deep pity, so that tears welled in his eyes and dropped on her, and he
took her face in his hands to embrace her, and as he did so she changed
into a beautiful maiden with veiled eyes, who plucked the crystal apple
from the tree and gave it to him and vanished.
Then the garden changed its semblance, and all around him there seemed
to be a hedge of smoking thorns and before him a fiery tree on which
blood-red roses shone like rubies. The tree was guarded by a maiden
with long grey eyes and flowing hair, and of spun moonshine, beautiful
exceedingly, and a moaning voice came from the tree, saying: “He who
would pluck the rose must slay its guardian.” On the grass beneath the
tree lay an unsheathed sword. William took the sword in his hands, but
the maiden looked at him piteously and wept, so that he hesitated; then,
hardening himself, he plunged the sword into her heart and a great moan
was heard, and the fire disappeared, and only a withered rose-tree stood
before him. Then he heard the voice say that he must pierce his own
heart with a thorn from the tree and let the blood fall upon its roots.
This he did, and as he did so he felt the sharpness of Death, as though
the last dreadful moment had come; but as the drops of blood fell on
the roots the beautiful maiden with veiled eyes, whom he had seen before
stood before him and gave him the blood-red rose, and she touched his
wound and straightway it was healed.
Then the garden vanished altogether, and he stood before a dark porch
and a gate beyond which he caught a pale glimmer. And by the porch stood
a terrible shape: a hooded skeleton bearing a scythe, with white sockets
of fire which had no eyes in them but which were so terrible that no
mortal could look on them and live. And here he heard a voice saying:
“He who would cull the white poppy must look into the eyes of its
guardian and take the scythe from the bony hands.” And William seized
the scythe and an icy darkness descended upon him, and he felt dizzy
and faint; yet he persisted and wrestled with the skeleton, although the
darkness seemed to be overwhelming him. He tore the hood from the bony
head and looked boldly into the fiery sockets.
Then with a crash of thunder the skeleton vanished, and the maiden with
veiled eyes led him through the gate into the quiet fields, and there
he culled the white poppy. Then the maiden turned to him and unveiled
herself, and it was Proserpine, the Queen of the Fairies.
“You have conquered,” she said, “and the faery kingdom is yours for
ever, and you shall visit it and dwell in it whenever you desire, and
reveal its sounds and its sights to the mortals of the world: and in my
kingdom you shall see, as though in a mirror, the pageant of mankind,
the scroll of history, and the story of man which is writ in brave,
golden and glowing letters, of blood and tears and fire. And there is
nothing in the soul of man that shall be hid from you; and you shall
speak the secrets of my kingdom to mortal men with a voice of gold and
of honey. And when you grow weary of life you shall withdraw for ever
into the island of faery voices which lies in the heart of my kingdom.
And as for me I go to the everlasting Limbo.”
Then Proserpine vanished, and William awoke from his dream, and went
home to his butcher’s shop.
Soon after this he left his native village and went to London, where he
became well known; although how his surname shall be spelt is a matter
of dispute, some spelling it Shakespeare, some Shakespere, and some
Shaksper.