Tanglewood Tales (17 page)

The child promised to be as prudent as if she were a grown-up woman;
and, by the time the winged dragons had whirled the car out of sight,
she was already on the shore, calling to the sea nymphs to come and play
with her. They knew Proserpina's voice, and were not long in showing
their glistening faces and sea-green hair above the water, at the bottom
of which was their home. They brought along with them a great many
beautiful shells; and sitting down on the moist sand, where the surf
wave broke over them, they busied themselves in making a necklace, which
they hung round Proserpina's neck. By way of showing her gratitude, the
child besought them to go with her a little way into the fields, so that
they might gather abundance of flowers, with which she would make each
of her kind playmates a wreath.

"O no, dear Proserpina," cried the sea nymphs; "we dare not go with you
upon the dry land. We are apt to grow faint, unless at every breath we
can snuff up the salt breeze of the ocean. And don't you see how careful
we are to let the surf wave break over us every moment or two, so as
to keep ourselves comfortably moist? If it were not for that, we should
look like bunches of uprooted seaweed dried in the sun.

"It is a great pity," said Proserpina. "But do you wait for me here, and
I will run and gather my apron full of flowers, and be back again before
the surf wave has broken ten times over you. I long to make you some
wreaths that shall be as lovely as this necklace of many colored
shells."

"We will wait, then," answered the sea nymphs. "But while you are gone,
we may as well lie down on a bank of soft sponge under the water. The
air to-day is a little too dry for our comfort. But we will pop up our
heads every few minutes to see if you are coming."

The young Proserpina ran quickly to a spot where, only the day before,
she had seen a great many flowers. These, however, were now a little
past their bloom; and wishing to give her friends the freshest and
loveliest blossoms, she strayed farther into the fields, and found some
that made her scream with delight. Never had she met with such exquisite
flowers before—violets so large and fragrant—roses with so rich and
delicate a blush—such superb hyacinths and such aromatic pinks—and
many others, some of which seemed to be of new shapes and colors. Two or
three times, moreover, she could not help thinking that a tuft of most
splendid flowers had suddenly sprouted out of the earth before her very
eyes, as if on purpose to tempt her a few steps farther. Proserpina's
apron was soon filled, and brimming over with delightful blossoms. She
was on the point of turning back in order to rejoin the sea nymphs, and
sit with them on the moist sands, all twining wreaths together. But,
a little farther on, what should she behold? It was a large shrub,
completely covered with the most magnificent flowers in the world.

"The darlings!" cried Proserpina; and then she thought to herself, "I
was looking at that spot only a moment ago. How strange it is that I did
not see the flowers!"

The nearer she approached the shrub, the more attractive it looked,
until she came quite close to it; and then, although its beauty was
richer than words can tell, she hardly knew whether to like it or not.
It bore above a hundred flowers of the most brilliant hues, and each
different from the others, but all having a kind of resemblance among
themselves, which showed them to be sister blossoms. But there was a
deep, glossy luster on the leaves of the shrub, and on the petals of the
flowers, that made Proserpina doubt whether they might not be poisonous.
To tell you the truth, foolish as it may seem, she was half inclined to
turn round and run away.

"What a silly child I am!" thought she, taking courage. "It is really
the most beautiful shrub that ever sprang out of the earth. I will
pull it up by the roots, and carry it home, and plant it in my mother's
garden."

Holding up her apron full of flowers with her left hand, Proserpina
seized the large shrub with the other, and pulled, and pulled, but was
hardly able to loosen the soil about its roots. What a deep-rooted plant
it was! Again the girl pulled with all her might, and observed that the
earth began to stir and crack to some distance around the stem. She gave
another pull, but relaxed her hold, fancying that there was a rumbling
sound right beneath her feet. Did the roots extend down into some
enchanted cavern? Then laughing at herself for so childish a notion, she
made another effort: up came the shrub, and Proserpina staggered back,
holding the stem triumphantly in her hand, and gazing at the deep hole
which its roots had left in the soil.

Much to her astonishment, this hole kept spreading wider and wider, and
growing deeper and deeper, until it really seemed to have no bottom; and
all the while, there came a rumbling noise out of its depths, louder and
louder, and nearer and nearer, and sounding like the tramp of horses'
hoofs and the rattling of wheels. Too much frightened to run away, she
stood straining her eyes into this wonderful cavity, and soon saw a team
of four sable horses, snorting smoke out of their nostrils, and tearing
their way out of the earth with a splendid golden chariot whirling at
their heels. They leaped out of the bottomless hole, chariot and all;
and there they were, tossing their black manes, flourishing their black
tails, and curvetting with every one of their hoofs off the ground at
once, close by the spot where Proserpina stood. In the chariot sat the
figure of a man, richly dressed, with a crown on his head, all flaming
with diamonds. He was of a noble aspect, and rather handsome, but looked
sullen and discontented; and he kept rubbing his eyes and shading them
with his hand, as if he did not live enough in the sunshine to be very
fond of its light.

As soon as this personage saw the affrighted Proserpina, he beckoned her
to come a little nearer.

"Do not be afraid," said he, with as cheerful a smile as he knew how
to put on. "Come! Will you not like to ride a little way with me, in my
beautiful chariot?"

But Proserpina was so alarmed, that she wished for nothing but to get
out of his reach. And no wonder. The stranger did not look remarkably
good-natured, in spite of his smile; and as for his voice, its tones
were deep and stern, and sounded as much like the rumbling of an
earthquake underground than anything else. As is always the case with
children in trouble, Proserpina's first thought was to call for her
mother.

"Mother, Mother Ceres!" cried she, all in a tremble. "Come quickly and
save me."

But her voice was too faint for her mother to hear. Indeed, it is most
probable that Ceres was then a thousand miles off, making the corn
grow in some far distant country. Nor could it have availed her poor
daughter, even had she been within hearing; for no sooner did Proserpina
begin to cry out, than the stranger leaped to the ground, caught the
child in his arms, and again mounted the chariot, shook the reins, and
shouted to the four black horses to set off. They immediately broke into
so swift a gallop, that it seemed rather like flying through the air
than running along the earth. In a moment, Proserpina lost sight of the
pleasant vale of Enna, in which she had always dwelt. Another instant,
and even the summit of Mount Aetna had become so blue in the distance,
that she could scarcely distinguish it from the smoke that gushed out of
its crater. But still the poor child screamed, and scattered her apron
full of flowers along the way, and left a long cry trailing behind the
chariot; and many mothers, to whose ears it came, ran quickly to see if
any mischief had befallen their children. But Mother Ceres was a great
way off, and could not hear the cry.

As they rode on, the stranger did his best to soothe her.

"Why should you be so frightened, my pretty child?" said he, trying to
soften his rough voice. "I promise not to do you any harm. What! you
have been gathering flowers? Wait till we come to my palace, and I
will give you a garden full of prettier flowers than those, all made of
pearls, and diamonds, and rubies. Can you guess who I am? They call my
name Pluto; and I am the king of diamonds and all other precious stones.
Every atom of the gold and silver that lies under the earth belongs to
me, to say nothing of the copper and iron, and of the coal mines, which
supply me with abundance of fuel. Do you see this splendid crown upon my
head? You may have it for a plaything. O, we shall be very good friends,
and you will find me more agreeable than you expect, when once we get
out of this troublesome sunshine."

"Let me go home!" cried Proserpina. "Let me go home!"

"My home is better than your mother's," answered King Pluto. "It is a
palace, all made of gold, with crystal windows; and because there is
little or no sunshine thereabouts, the apartments are illuminated 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."

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

But King Pluto, as he called himself, only shouted to his steeds to go
faster.

"Pray do not be foolish, Proserpina," said he, in rather a sullen tone.
"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."

"Never!" answered Proserpina, looking as miserable as she could. "I
shall never smile again till you set me down at my mother's door."

But she might just as well have talked to the wind that whistled
past them, for Pluto urged on his horses, and went faster than ever.
Proserpina continued to cry out, and screamed so long and so loudly that
her poor little voice was almost screamed away; and when it was nothing
but a whisper, she happened to cast her eyes over a great broad field
of waving grain—and whom do you think she saw? Who, but Mother Ceres,
making the corn grow, and too busy to notice the golden chariot as it
went rattling along. The child mustered all her strength, and gave one
more scream, but was out of sight before Ceres had time to turn her
head.

King Pluto had taken a road which now began to grow excessively gloomy.
It was bordered on each side with rocks and precipices, between which
the rumbling of the chariot wheels was reverberated with a noise like
rolling thunder. The trees and bushes that grew in the crevices of the
rocks had very dismal foliage; and by and by, although it was hardly
noon, the air became obscured with a gray twilight. The black horses had
rushed along so swiftly, that they were already beyond the limits of the
sunshine. But the duskier it grew, the more did Pluto's visage assume
an air of satisfaction. After all, he was not an ill-looking person,
especially when he left off twisting his features into a smile that did
not belong to them. Proserpina peeped at his face through the gathering
dusk, and hoped that he might not be so very wicked as she at first
thought him.

"Ah, this twilight is truly refreshing," said King Pluto, "after being
so tormented with that ugly and impertinent glare of the sun. How
much more agreeable is lamplight or torchlight, more particularly when
reflected from diamonds! It will be a magnificent sight, when we get to
my palace."

"Is it much farther?" asked Proserpina. "And will you carry me back when
I have seen it?"

"We will talk of that by and by," answered Pluto. "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 mastiff at the
threshold. Cerberus! Cerberus! Come hither, my good dog!"

So saying, Pluto pulled at the reins, and stopped the chariot right
between the tall, massive pillars of the gateway. The mastiff of which
he had spoken got up from the threshold, and stood on his hinder legs,
so as to put his fore paws on the chariot wheel. But, my stars, what a
strange dog it was! Why, he was a big, rough, ugly-looking monster, with
three separate heads, and each of them fiercer than the two others; but
fierce as they were, King Pluto patted them all. He seemed as fond of
his three-headed dog as if it had been a sweet little spaniel, with
silken ears and curly hair. Cerberus, on the other hand, was evidently
rejoiced to see his master, and expressed his attachment, as other dogs
do, by wagging his tail at a great rate. Proserpina's eyes being drawn
to it by its brisk motion, she saw that this tail was neither more nor
less than a live dragon, with fiery eyes, and fangs that had a very
poisonous aspect. And while the three-headed Cerberus was fawning so
lovingly on King Pluto, there was the dragon tail wagging against its
will, and looking as cross and ill-natured as you can imagine, on its
own separate account.

"Will the dog bite me?" asked Proserpina, shrinking closer to Pluto.
"What an ugly creature he is!"

"O, never fear," answered her companion. "He never harms people, unless
they try to enter my dominions without being sent for, or to get
away when I wish to keep them here. Down, Cerberus! Now, my pretty
Proserpina, we will drive on."

On went the chariot, and King Pluto seemed greatly pleased to find
himself once more in his own kingdom. He drew Proserpina's attention to
the rich veins of gold that were to be seen among the rocks, and pointed
to several places where one stroke of a pickaxe would loosen a bushel of
diamonds. All along the road, indeed, there were sparkling gems, which
would have been of inestimable value above ground, but which here were
reckoned of the meaner sort and hardly worth a beggar's stooping for.