Hypolympia; Or, The Gods in the Island, an Ironic Fantasy — John Shaqi
Hypolympia; Or, The Gods in the Island, an Ironic FantasyGosse, Edmund
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Hypolympia; Or, The Gods in the Island, an Ironic Fantasy
Gosse, Edmund
Gods, Greek -- Drama
I cannot stay. I am trying to rouse Demeter from her dreadful state
of depression. She sits in the palace heaving deep sighs, and doing
absolutely nothing else. It will affect her heart, Aesculapius say.
CIRCE.
She has always been so closely wedded to the study of agriculture,
and now....
HERMES.
Precisely. And it has occurred to me that the way to rouse her
will be to send Persephone to her in a little country cart I have
discovered. I have two mouse-coloured ponies already caught and
harnessed--such little beauties. The only thing left to do is to
search for Persephone.
CIRCE.
I will find her in a moment. [_Exit._]
RHEA.
We hear that you have already invented a means of amusing Zeus,
Hermes? Is he prepared to forget his thunderbolt?
HERMES.
He has mentioned it only twice this morning, and I have set
Hephaestus to work to make him another, of yew-tree wood. It will
be less incommodious, more fitted to this place, and in a very
short time Zeus will forget the original.
KRONOS [_loudly, to himself_].
Zeus gave me an orb and sceptre to console me. I used to play cup
and ball with them behind his throne.
RHEA [_in a solicitous aside to_ HERMES].
Oh! it is not true. Kronos' mind now wanders so strangely. He
thinks that it is Zeus who has turned him out of Olympus.
HERMES [_in the same tone_].
Do not distress him, Rhea, by contradiction and explanation. I will
find modes of amusing him a little every day, and, for the rest,
let him doze in the sunshine. His mind is worn so smooth that it
fails any longer to catch in ideas as they flit against it. They
pass off, glide away. It is useless, Rhea, to torment Kronos.
RHEA.
I shall watch him, all day long. For I, too, am weary. Do not
propose to me, with your restless energy, any fresh interests. Let
me sit, with my cold hands folded in my lap, and look at Kronos,
nodding, nodding. It is very kind of Circe, but we are too old for
love; and of you, but we are too old for amusement. Let us rest,
Hermes, rest and sleep; perhaps dream a little, dream of the
far-away past.
[CIRCE _and_ PERSEPHONE _enter from the left_.]
PERSEPHONE [_to_ HERMES].
My mother requires so much activity of mind and body. You must not
believe that I was neglecting her. But I went forth in despair this
morning to see what I could invent, adapt, discover, as a means
of rousing her. I am stupid, I could think of nothing. I wandered
through the woods, down the glen, along the sea-shore, up the side
of the tarn and of the marsh, but I could think of nothing.
CIRCE.
And when I found Persephone she was lying, flung out among the
flowers, with bees and butterflies leaping round her in the
sunshine, and the beech-leaves singing their faint song of peace.
It was beautiful, it was like Enna--with, ah! such a difference.
PERSEPHONE.
Circe does not tell you that I was so foolish as to be in tears.
But now it seems that you have invented an occupation for Ceres?
You are so divinely ingenious.
HERMES.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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