“yonder brook demeter’s tears received,
that she wept for her persephone.”
schiller.
scarcely had the words fallen from cleodice’s lips than there appeared several maidens running, dancing and pirouetting. they seemed to be so many sylvan nymphs effusing the spirit of eternal spring among imaginary wooded hills, beside babbling brooks and amid fragrant meadows in search of flowers to wind in their long hair which streamed behind them or fell about their shoulders as they ran.
“the one with the richly broidered gown of pure white is persephone,” explained eumetis, observing that zopyrus’ eyes were fastened upon that figure.
seated between cleodice and eumetis, zopyrus had not withdrawn his gaze from the girl in white, the persephone. it was the maiden whom he had rescued on the acropolis!
“she is very beautiful, is she not, zopyrus?” questioned eumetis with pique.
but zopyrus did not hear.
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happy persephone! life that moves along with nothing to disturb its tranquility! presently she sees a flower, a narcissus, fairer and taller than any around it, but it is far away. she leaves her companions and runs gayly to pluck it. her hand is almost upon the fair blossom when lo! the earth opens at her feet, and a chariot drawn by two black horses emerges seemingly from the very bowels of the earth. within the chariot stands a dark, somber-visaged man upon whose head rests a crown with a solitary dull red stone in the front. this man is hades,[5] lord of the underworld. he seizes the hapless persephone who struggles vainly for freedom, and placing her beside him in his magnificent chariot, vanishes with her to the nether regions.
while this scene was being enacted, zopyrus sat as one dazed, for in the person of hades he had recognized the traitor of thermopylæ.
again the pit is occupied, this time by two female figures clad in robes of mourning. they are ceres and her faithful maid iambe. ceres questions every one they meet in the hope of finding some trace of her lost daughter, persephone. hecate, goddess of night, is approached with an inquiry regarding the possible whereabouts of the unfortunate girl, but night has seen nothing, only heard the cry of anguish.
during the six months that persephone dwelt with pluto, her husband, the face of nature showed the withering touch of the mourning goddess. it was for helios, the sun god, to reveal where persephone was hidden, and during the remainder of the year that persephone’s abode was with her mother, ceres’ magic influence was made manifest in the growing and maturing vegetation.
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so the mother goddess, earth, who during her sorrow had caused all nature to be barren, produced fruit, flowers and grain in abundance. as her faithful heart pined for her daughter, life, so do we mourn the lost lives of our loved ones until our souls are assured of their resurrection. so often from the bitterest experiences of life do the greatest blessings come.
a communion service followed the presentation of the suffering and rejoicing of demeter, in which all the initiates drank of the same cup with the representatives of the goddesses. these ceremonies appealed to the eyes and imaginations of the celebrants through a form of religious mesmerism.
the ceremonies over, the crowds moved slowly out of the telesterion. from the entrance to the rock-terrace, persephone and agne, the woman who had represented ceres, watched the departing throng.
“an appreciative audience, do you not think so, persephone?” asked the older woman.
“i sincerely hope so,” replied the girl. “my greatest happiness can come only from successfully convincing others that there is a future existence for all who deserve it.”
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“i saw my cousin, cleodice and her daughter, eumetis,” said agne. “there was a young man seated between them, and i believe he must be the one to whom eumetis is betrothed. he will find eumetis a worthy mate, for a more unselfish girl never lived. she loved polygnotus, but when she realized that her sister, corinna loved him, she stepped aside and gave polygnotus every opportunity to pay court to her sister. but see who is coming to pay court here, little persephone! behold pluto is vanished, and in his stead we see ephialtes. i was young once, persephone, and if i mistake not, your greatest happiness lies with him, not in revealing a future life to others. do not misunderstand me, my dear, your part as persephone is a noble one and may be for a year or two yet, but then younger persephones will come to the front, and you do not want to become a demeter!” here agne laughed bitterly. “i once stood as you now stand and hesitated between a lover and an ambition,—and now i am just demeter, truly a noble calling, but not life as it should be. you are life, persephone! you personify it! then live it, and ephialtes will gladly share it with you.”
persephone was amazed at agne’s frank outburst. she had always known her as a devout, conscientious woman whose interest in her part of ceres in the mystery-play was the obsession of her life. it was now vividly impressed upon her that agne had once been young as she was, that agne had once loved and been loved, and now agne’s advice was to make the most of that love which comes in life’s spring-time.
“but i always thought you wanted me to succeed you some day as demeter!” the girl exclaimed wonderingly.
“maybe some day you can, but live first. demeter was a mother, and i believe a real mother will present the truths of our belief more vividly than can one who has never known the joys and pangs of motherhood.” with these words agne left the maiden just as ephialtes approached.
“come with me to the grotto of pluto, persephone,” said ephialtes. “i wish to have a word with you alone.”
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the grotto of pluto was a half furlong distant from the great hall which the two now left by way of the rock-terrace. the night breeze from across the rharian plain was warm and laden with the odors of grain fields.
“the usual cool sea breeze has deserted us tonight,” remarked persephone, “but i love equally well that which blows from the land. it seems to bear a message from others who live in our own fair land and to unite us by its common touch.”
“i love that wind,” said ephialtes, “which blows across the water from strange, unknown lands, bringing with it a feeling of mystery. it is characteristic, i suppose, that the woman love her native land and the familiar haunts of her childhood, but the man longs to explore the unknown.”
“yes i love greece, ephialtes, and who would not? it has the richest pale-blue air, the loveliest mountain forms and silvery estuaries, sinking far into the heart of the land!”
they arrived, meeting no one, at the entrance of the grotto of pluto.
“let us go in,” said ephialtes softly. “there is a new statue of iacchos i would show you.”
“some other time, ephialtes. there is no one here. tell me what you said you wished to tell me when we were in the telesterion.”
ephialtes was keenly disappointed that the girl would not enter the grotto with him. his impulse was to carry her bodily there, but he knew her utterances of remonstrance would attract attention, so he silently obeyed her wish, feeling impotent rage.
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“on the second night of the next full moon, there is to be a festival of dionysus on the island of naxos. will you go with me, persephone?”
he was standing before her; he clasped her hand and gazed pleadingly into her eyes. she hesitated and turned thoughtfully away.
“i will go with you if i may take agne as chaperone,” she replied.
ephialtes answered with well concealed irritation: “very well, if you insist, but surely you do not mistrust a friend of such long standing as myself, and oh my dear persephone, will you not change your answer to my question which was put to you last when we drifted together in the barge off of salamis?”
“my answer is the same, and by the way, have you found any clue to the identity of the traitor of thermopylæ?”
the young man glanced furtively about him and made answer: “not yet, but you may rest assured i will find him since my future happiness depends upon it. goodbye now, sweet persephone, till the second night of the full moon. i shall count the hours as lost till i see you.”
he strode toward her as though to embrace her, but warned by her attitude of aloofness, merely imprinted a kiss upon her hand. he could well afford to bridle his passions so as not to offend her before the excursion to naxos.
