And there, in the innermost parts of the house, she saw lying Electra, loving nurse of Proserpine, best known among the old Nymphs of Ocean; she who loved Proserpine as did Ceres. ’Twas she who, when Proserpine had left her cradle, would bear her in her loving bosom and bring the little girl to mighty Jove and set her to play on her father’s * * * * * Page 358 haec comes, haec custos, haec proxima mater haberi. tunc laceras effusa comas et pulvere cano sordida sidereae raptus lugebat alumnae. Hanc adgressa Ceres, postquam suspiria tandem laxavit frenosque dolor: “quod cernimus” inquit 180 “excidium? cui praeda feror? regnatne maritus an caelum Titanes habent? quae talia vivo ausa Tonante manus? rupitne Typhoia cervix Inarimen? fractane iugi compage Vesevi Alcyoneus Tyrrhena pedes per stagna cucurrit? 185 an vicina mihi quassatis faucibus Aetna protulit Enceladum? nostros an forte penates adpetiit centum Briareia turba lacertis? heu, ubi nunc es, nata, mihi? quo, mille ministrae, quo, Cyane? volucres quae vis Sirenas abegit? 190 haecine vestra fides? sic fas aliena tueri pignora?” Contremuit nutrix, maerorque pudori cedit, et adspectus miserae non ferre parentis emptum morte velit longumque inmota moratur auctorem dubium certumque expromere funus. 195 vix tamen haec: “Acies utinam vesana Gigantum hanc dederit cladem! levius communia tangunt. sed divae, multoque minus quod rere, sorores in nostras (nimium!) coniuravere ruinas. insidias superum, cognatae vulnera cernis 200 invidiae. Phlegra nobis infensior aether. “Florebat tranquilla domus; nec limina virgo * * * * * Page 359 knee. She was her companion, her guardian, and could be deemed her second mother. There, with torn and dishevelled hair, all foul with grey dust, she was lamenting the rape of her divine foster-child. Ceres approached her, and when at length her grief allowed her sighs free rein: “What ruin is here?” she said. “Of what enemy am I become the victim? Does my husband yet rule or do the Titans hold heaven? What hand hath dared this, if the Thunderer be still alive? Have Typhon’s shoulders forced up Inarime or does Alcyoneus course on foot through the Etruscan Sea, having burst the bonds of imprisoning Vesuvius? Or has the neighbouring mountain of Etna oped her jaws and expelled Enceladus? Perchance Briareus with his hundred arms has attacked my house? Ah, my daughter, where art thou now? Whither are fled my thousand servants, whither Cyane? What violence has driven away the winged Sirens? Is this your faith? Is this the way to guard another’s treasure?”