“Goddess,” said she, “blame not the land; it opened unwillingly to yield a passage to your daughter.  I can tell you of her fate, for I have seen her.  This is not my native country; I came hither from Elis.  I was a woodland nymph, and delighted in the chase.  They praised my beauty, but I cared nothing for it, and rather boasted of my hunting exploits.  One day I was returning from the wood, heated with exercise, when I came to a stream silently flowing, so clear that you might count the pebbles on the bottom.  The willows shaded it, and the grassy bank sloped down to the water’s edge.  I approached, I touched the water with my foot.  I stepped in knee-deep, and not content with that, I laid my garments on the willows and went in.  While I sported in the water, I heard an indistinct murmur coming up as out of the depths of the stream:  and made haste to escape to the nearest bank.  The voice said, ’Why do you fly, Arethusa?  I am Alpheus, the god of this stream.’  I ran, he pursued; he was not more swift than I, but he was stronger, and gained upon me, as my strength failed.  At last, exhausted, I cried for help to Diana.  ’Help me, goddess! help your votary!’ The goddess heard, and wrapped me suddenly in a thick cloud.  The river god looked now this way and now that, and twice came close to me, but could not find me.  ‘Arethusa!  Arethusa!’ he cried.  Oh, how I trembled,—­like a lamb that hears the wolf growling outside the fold.  A cold sweat came over me, my hair flowed down in streams; where my foot stood there was a pool.  In short, in less time than it takes to tell it I became a fountain.  But in this form Alpheus knew me and attempted to mingle his stream with mine.  Diana cleft the ground, and I, endeavoring to escape him, plunged into the cavern, and through the bowels of the earth came out here in Sicily.  While I passed through the lower parts of the earth, I saw your Proserpine.  She was sad, but no longer showing alarm in her countenance.  Her look was such as became a queen—­the queen of Erebus; the powerful bride of the monarch of the realms of the dead.”

When Ceres heard this, she stood for a while like one stupefied; then turned her chariot towards heaven, and hastened to present herself before the throne of Jove.  She told the story of her bereavement, and implored Jupiter to interfere to procure the restitution of her daughter.  Jupiter consented on one condition, namely, that Proserpine should not during her stay in the lower world have taken any food; otherwise, the Fates forbade her release.  Accordingly, Mercury was sent, accompanied by Spring, to demand Proserpine of Pluto.  The wily monarch consented; but, alas! the maiden had taken a pomegranate which Pluto offered her, and had sucked the sweet pulp from a few of the seeds.  This was enough to prevent her complete release; but a compromise was made, by which she was to pass half the time with her mother, and the rest with her husband Pluto.