INO. Chide not, unkind Eunoe, I but went Down that dark glade, where underneath the shade Of those high trees the sweetest violets grow,— I went at her command. Alas! Alas! My heart sinks down; I dread she may be lost;— Eunoe, climb the hill, search that ravine, Whose close, dark sides may hide her from our view:— Oh, dearest, haste! Is that her snow-white robe? EUNOE. No;—’tis a faun[8] beside its sleeping Mother, Browsing the grass;—what will thy Mother say, Dear Proserpine, what will bright Ceres feel, If her return be welcomed not by thee? INO. These are wild thoughts,—& we are wrong to fear That any ill can touch the child of heaven; She is not lost,—trust me, she has but strayed Up some steep mountain path, or in yon dell, Or to the rock where yellow wall-flowers grow, Scaling with venturous step the narrow path Which the goats fear to tread;—she will return And mock our fears. EUNOE. The sun now dips his beams In the bright sea; Ceres descends at eve From Jove’s high conclave; if her much-loved child Should meet her not in yonder golden field, Where to the evening wind the ripe grain waves Its yellow head, how will her heart misgive. Let us adjure the Naiad of yon brook[,] She may perchance have seen our Proserpine, And tell us to what distant field she’s strayed:— Wait thou, dear Ino, here, while I repair To the tree-shaded source of her swift stream. (_Exit_ Eunoe.) INO. Why does my heart misgive? & scalding tears, That should but mourn, now prophecy her loss? Oh, Proserpine! Where’er your luckless fate Has hurried you,—to wastes of desart sand, Or black Cymmerian cave, or dread Hell, Yet Ino still will follow! Look where Eunoe Comes, with down cast eyes and faltering steps, I fear the worst;— Re-enter Eunoe. Has she not then been seen? EUNOE. Alas, all hope is vanished! Hymera says She slept the livelong day while the hot beams Of Phœbus drank her waves;—nor did she wake Until her reed-crowned head was wet with dew;— If she had passed her grot she slept the while. INO. Alas! Alas! I see the golden car, And hear the flapping of the dragons wings, Ceres descends to Earth. I dare not stay, I dare not meet the sorrow of her look[,] The angry glance of her severest eyes. EUNOE. Quick up the mountain! I will search the dell, She must return, or I will never more. (_Exit_.) INO. And yet I will not fly, though I fear much Her angry frown and just reproach, yet shame Shall quell this childish fear, all hope of safety For her lost child rests but in her high power, And yet I tremble as I see her come. Enter Ceres. CERES. Where is my daughter? have I aught to dread? Where does she stray? Ino, you answer not;— She was aye wont to meet me in yon field,— Your looks bode ill;—I fear my child is lost. INO. Eunoe now seeks her track among the woods; Fear not, great Ceres, she has only strayed.