ments are lighted with diamond lamps. You never · saw anything half so magnificent as my throne. If you like, you may sit down on it, and be my little queen, and I will sit on the footstool.

Proserpina (sobbing). I don't care for golden palaces and thrones. Oh, my mother, my mother! Carry me back to my mother!

Pluto. Pray do not be so foolish, Proserpina. I offer you my palace and my crown, and all the riches that are under the earth; and you treat me as if I were doing you an injury. The one thing which my palace needs is a merry little maid, to run upstairs and down, and cheer up the rooms with her smile. And this is what you must do for King Pluto.

Proserpina. Never! I shall never smile again. till you set me down at my mother's door. Is it much farther? And will you carry me back when I have seen your palace?

Pluto. We will talk of that by and by! We are just entering my dominions. Do you see that tall gateway before us? When we pass those gates we are at home. And there lies my faithful dog at the threshold. Cerberus! Cerberus! Come hither, my good dog.

[An ugly-looking, three-headed, serpent-tailed monster comes to meet them.]

Proserpina. Will the dog bite me? What an ugly creature he is!

Pluto. Oh, never fear. He never harms people unless they try to enter without being sent for, or to go away when I wish to keep them here. Down, Cerberus ! Now, my pretty Proserpina, we will

drive on.

[They soon come to a black, muddy-looking stream.] Pluto. This is the river Lethe. Is it not a very pleasant stream?

Proserpina. I think it is a very dismal one. Pluto. It suits my taste. Its water has a very excellent quality; for a single draught of it makes people forget every care and sorrow that has hitherto tormented them. Only sip a little of it, my dear Proserpina, and you will instantly remember nothing that will prevent you from being perfectly happy. I will send for some in a golden goblet the minute we arrive.

Proserpina (sobbing). Oh, no, no, no! I had a thousand times rather be miserable with remember

ing my mother than be That dear, dear mother! her.

Pluto. We shall see.

happy in forgetting her.

I never, never will forget

You do not know what

fine times we will have in my palace. Here we are just at the portal. These pillars are solid gold. And now you shall have some of that water.

Proserpina. I will neither drink that nor anything else. Nor will I taste a morsel of food, even you keep me forever in your palace.

if

Pluto (patting her cheek). I should be sorry for that. You are a spoiled child, my little Proserpina; but when you see the nice things which my cook will make for you, your appetite will quickly come again.

SCENE II

When Ceres found that her daughter was lost, she hurried off to make inquiries all through the neighborhood. But nobody told her anything by which she could guess what had become of Proserpina. The poor mother went wandering about for nine long days and nights, finding no trace of the little girl. On the tenth day she discovered Hecate, an ugly-looking creature sitting in a gloomy cave.

Ceres. Oh, Hecate, if ever you lose a daughter, you will know what sorrow is. Tell me, for pity's sake, have you seen my poor child Proserpina pass by the mouth of your cavern?

Hecate (sighing). No, no, Mother Ceres, I have seen nothing of your daughter. But my ears are made in such a way that all cries of distress all over the world are pretty sure to make their way to them. Nine days ago, as I sat here in my cave, making myself miserable, I heard the voice of a young girl shrieking as if in great distress. Something terrible has happened to the child. As well as I could judge, a dragon or some other cruel monster was carrying her away.

Where was

Ceres. You kill me by saying so! the sound, and which way did it seem to go?

Hecate. It passed very swiftly along, and at the same time there was a heavy rumbling of wheels towards the eastward. I can tell you nothing more, except that, in my honest opinion, you will never see your daughter again. . The best advice I can give you is to come to live with me in this cavern, where we will be the two most wretched women in the world.

But do you first

Ceres. Not yet, dark Hecate. come with your torch and help me to seek for my lost child. And when there shall be no more hope of finding her, then, if you will give me room to fling myself down, either on these withered leaves or on the naked rock, I will show you what it is to be miserable. But until I know that she has perished, I will not allow myself space even to grieve. There is one person who must have seen my poor child, and can doubtless tell what has become of her. Why did I not think of him before? It is Phoebus.

Hecate. What, the young man that always sits in the sunshine? Oh, pray do not think of going near him. He is a gay fellow, and will only smile in your face. And besides, there is such a glare of the sun about him that he will quite blind my poor eyes, which I have almost wept away already.

Ceres. You have promised to be my companion. Come, let us make haste, or the sunshine will be gone, and Phoebus along with it.