Proserpine and Midas by Mary Shelley

Author:Mary Shelley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ManyBooks.net

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ACT II

_Scene. The Plain of Enna as before. Enter Ino & Eunoe._

Eun. How weary am I! and the hot sun flushes My cheeks that else were white with fear and grief[.] E'er since that fatal day, dear sister nymph, On which we lost our lovely Proserpine, I have but wept and watched the livelong night And all the day have wandered through the woods[.]

Ino. How all is changed since that unhappy eve! Ceres forever weeps, seeking her child, And in her rage has struck the land with blight; Trinacria mourns with her;--its fertile fields Are dry and barren, and all little brooks Struggling scarce creep within their altered banks; The flowers that erst were wont with bended heads, To gaze within the clear and glassy wave, Have died, unwatered by the failing stream.-- And yet their hue but mocks the deeper grief Which is the fountain of these bitter tears. But who is this, that with such eager looks Hastens this way?-- [17]

Eun. 'Tis fairest Arethuse, A stranger naiad, yet you know her well.

Ino. My eyes were blind with tears.

Enter Arethusa.

Dear Arethuse, Methinks I read glad tidings in your eyes, Your smiles are the swift messengers that bear A tale of coming joy, which we, alas! Can answer but with tears, unless you bring To our grief solace, Hope to our Despair. Have you found Proserpine? or know you where The loved nymph wanders, hidden from our search?

Areth. Where is corn-crowned Ceres? I have hastened To ease her anxious heart.

Eun. Oh! dearest Naiad, Herald of joy! Now will great Ceres bless Thy welcome coming & more welcome tale.

Ino. Since that unhappy day when Ceres lost Her much-loved child, she wanders through the isle; Dark blight is showered from her looks of sorrow;-- And where tall corn and all seed-bearing grass Rose from beneath her step, they wither now Fading under the frown of her bent brows: [18] The springs decrease;--the fields whose delicate green Was late her chief delight, now please alone, Because they, withered, seem to share her grief.

Areth. Unhappy Goddess! how I pity thee!

Ino. At night upon high Etna's topmost peak She lights two flames, that shining through the isle Leave dark no wood, or cave, or mountain path, Their sunlike splendour makes the moon-beams dim, And the bright stars are lost within their day. She's in yon field,--she comes towards this plain, Her loosened hair has fallen on her neck, Uncircled by the coronal of grain:-- Her cheeks are wan,--her step is faint & slow.

Enter Ceres.

Cer. I faint with weariness: a dreadful thirst Possesses me! Must I give up the search? Oh! never, dearest Proserpine, until I once more clasp thee in my vacant arms! Help me, dear Arethuse! fill some deep shell With the clear waters of thine ice-cold spring, And bring it me;--I faint with heat and thirst.

Areth. My words are better than my freshest waves[:] I saw your Proserpine-- [19]

Cer. Arethusa, where? Tell me! my heart beats quick, & hope and fear Cause my weak limbs to fail me.

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