第 34 节
作者:水王      更新:2021-12-07 09:36      字数:9322
  she left us a long while ago; meaning only to run a little way upon the dry
  land; and gather some flowers for a wreath。 This was early in the day; and
  we have seen nothing of her since。〃
  Ceres scarcely waited to hear what the nymphs had to say; before she
  hurried   off   to   make   inquiries   all   through   the   neighborhood。   But   nobody
  told   her   anything   that   would   enable   the   poor   mother   to   guess   what   had
  become      of   Proserpina。    A   fisherman;     it  is  true;  had   noticed   her   little
  footprints in the sand; as he went homeward along the beach with a basket
  of   fish;   a   rustic   had   seen   the   child   stooping   to   gather   flowers;   several
  persons had heard either the rattling of chariot wheels; or the rumbling of
  distant thunder;   and one old   woman; while   plucking vervain   and   catnip;
  had   heard   a   scream;   but   supposed   it   to   be   some   childish   nonsense;   and
  therefore  did   not take   the  trouble to look   up。 The stupid   people!  It   took
  them such a tedious while to tell the nothing that they knew; that it was
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  dark night before Mother Ceres found out that she must seek her daughter
  elsewhere。 So she lighted a torch; and set forth; resolving never to come
  back until Proserpina was discovered。
  In   her   haste   and   trouble   of   mind;   she   quite   forgot   her   car   and   the
  winged dragons; or; it may be; she thought that she could follow up the
  search more thoroughly on foot。 At all events; this was the way in which
  she began her sorrowful journey; holding her torch before her; and looking
  carefully at every object along the path。 And as it happened; she had not
  gone far before she found one of the magnificent flowers which grew on
  the shrub that Proserpina had pulled up。
  〃Ha!〃     thought    Mother    Ceres;    examining      it  by  torchlight。   〃Here    is
  mischief in this flower! The earth did not produce it by any help of mine;
  nor   of   its   own   accord。   It   is   the   work   of   enchantment;   and   is   therefore
  poisonous; and perhaps it has poisoned my poor child。〃
  But she put the poisonous flower in her bosom; not knowing whether
  she might ever find any other memorial of Proserpina。
  All   night   long;   at   the   door   of   every   cottage   and   farm…house;   Ceres
  knocked; and called up the weary laborers to inquire if they had seen her
  child;    and   they   stood;   gaping    and   half…   asleep;   at  the  threshold;    and
  answered her pityingly; and besought her to come in and rest。 At the portal
  of every palace; too; she made so loud a summons that the menials hurried
  to throw open the gate; thinking that it must be some great king or queen;
  who would demand a banquet for supper and a stately chamber to repose
  in。 And when they saw only a sad and anxious woman; with a torch in her
  hand and a wreath of withered poppies on her head; they spoke rudely; and
  sometimes   threatened   to   set   the   dogs   upon   her。   But   nobody   had   seen
  Proserpina; nor could give Mother Ceres the least hint which way to seek
  her。   Thus   passed   the   night;   and   still   she   continued   her   search   without
  sitting down to rest; or stopping to take food; or even remembering to put
  out the torch although first the rosy dawn; and then the glad light of the
  morning sun;  made its  red   flame look thin and   pale。  But I   wonder   what
  sort of stuff this torch was made of; for it burned dimly through the day;
  and; at night; was as bright as ever; and never was extinguished by the rain
  or   wind;   in   all   the   weary   days   and   nights   while   Ceres   was   seeking   for
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  Proserpina。
  It  was    not  merely    of   human     beings   that  she   asked    tidings   of  her
  daughter。 In the woods and by the streams; she met creatures of another
  nature;   who   used;   in   those   old   times;   to   haunt   the   pleasant   and   solitary
  places;     and   were    very    sociable    with   persons     who    understood      their
  language and customs; as Mother Ceres did。 Sometimes; for instance; she
  tapped   with   her   finger   against   the   knotted   trunk   of   a   majestic   oak;   and
  immediately  its   rude   bark   would   cleave   asunder;  and   forth   would   step   a
  beautiful maiden; who was the hamadryad of the oak; dwelling inside of it;
  and sharing its long life; and rejoicing when its green leaves sported with
  the breeze。 But not one of these leafy damsels had seen Proserpina。 Then;
  going a little farther; Ceres would; perhaps; come to a fountain; gushing
  out of a pebbly hollow in the earth; and would dabble with her hand in the
  water。    Behold;     up  through     its  sandy   and   pebbly    bed;   along    with   the
  fountain's gush; a young woman with dripping hair would arise; and stand
  gazing at Mother Ceres; half out of the water; and undulating up and down
  with   its   ever…   restless   motion。   But   when   the   mother   asked   whether   her
  poor lost   child   had stopped   to drink   out of   the   fountain;  the naiad;   with
  weeping eyes (for these water…nymphs had tears to spare for everybody's
  grief; would answer 〃No!〃 in a murmuring voice; which was just like the
  murmur of the stream。
  Often;    likewise;    she   encountered      fauns;   who    looked    like  sunburnt
  country people; except that they had hairy ears; and little horns upon their
  foreheads; and the hinder legs of goats; on which they gamboled merrily
  about the woods and fields。 They were a frolicsome kind of creature but
  grew     as  sad   as   their  cheerful    dispositions     would    allow;   when     Ceres
  inquired     for   her  daughter;     and   they   had   no   good    news     to  tell。  But
  sometimes she same suddenly upon a rude gang of satyrs; who had faces
  like   monkeys;   and   horses'   tails   behind   them;   and   who   were   generally
  dancing in a very boisterous manner; with shouts of noisy laughter。 When
  she stopped to question them; they would only laugh the louder; and make
  new   merriment   out   of   the   lone   woman's   distress。   How   unkind   of   those
  ugly satyrs! And once; while crossing a solitary sheep pasture; she saw a
  personage named Pan; seated at the foot of a tall rock; and making music
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  on a shepherd's flute。 He; too; had horns; and hairy ears; and goats' feet;
  but;   being   acquainted   with   Mother   Ceres;   he   answered   her   question   as
  civilly as he knew how; and invited her to taste some milk and honey out
  of   a   wooden   bowl。   But   neither   could   Pan   tell   her   what   had   become   of
  Proserpina; any better than the rest of these wild people。
  And thus Mother Ceres went wandering about for nine long days and
  nights;   finding   no   trace   of   Proserpina;   unless   it   were   now   and   then   a
  withered flower; and these she picked up and put in her bosom; because
  she fancied that they might have fallen from her poor child's hand。 All day
  she traveled onward through the hot sun; and; at night again; the flame of
  the torch would redden and gleam along the pathway; and she continued
  her search by its light; without ever sitting down to rest。
  On the   tenth day;  she   chanced   to espy  the   mouth   of   a   cavern   within
  which (though it was bright noon everywhere else) there would have been
  only a dusky twilight; but it so happened that a torch was burning there。 It
  flickered; and struggled with the duskiness; but could not half light up the
  gloomy   cavern   with   all   its   melancholy   glimmer。   Ceres   was   resolved   to
  leave no spot without a search; so she peeped into the entrance of the cave;
  and lighted it up a little more; by holding her own torch before her。 In so
  doing; she caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a woman; sitting on the
  brown   leaves of   the   last   autumn;  a   great heap   of   which   had been   swept
  into   the   cave   by   the   wind。   This   woman   (if   woman   it   were)   was   by   no
  means   so   beautiful   as   many   of   her   sex;   for   her   head;   they   tell   me;   was
  shaped   very   much   like   a   dog's;   and;   by   way   of   ornament;   she   wore   a
  wreath of snakes around it。 But Mother Ceres; the moment she saw her;
  knew that this was an odd kind of a person; who put all her enjoyment in
  being   miserable;   and   never   would   have   a   word   to   say   to   other   peopl