When Pluto heard this, he began to see that he had mistaken the best
method of tempting Proserpina to eat. The cook's made dishes and
artificial dainties were not half so delicious, in the good child's
opinion, as the simple fare to which Mother Ceres had accustomed her.
Wondering that he had never thought of it before, the king now sent one
of his trusty attendants with a large basket, to get some of the finest
and juiciest pears, peaches, and plums which could anywhere be found in
the upper world. Unfortunately, however, this was during the time when
Ceres had forbidden any fruits or vegetables to grow; and, after
seeking all over the earth, King Pluto's servant found only a
single pomegranate, and that so dried up as not to be worth eating.
Nevertheless, since there was no better to be had, he brought this dry,
old withered pomegranate home to the palace, put it on a magnificent
golden salver, and carried it up to Proserpina. Now, it happened,
curiously enough, that, just as the servant was bringing the pomegranate
into the back door of the palace, our friend Quicksilver had gone up the
front steps, on his errand to get Proserpina away from King Pluto.
As soon as Proserpina saw the pomegranate on the golden salver, she told
the servant he had better take it away again.
"I shall not touch it, I assure you," said she. "If I were ever so
hungry, I should never think of eating such a miserable, dry pomegranate
as that."
"It is the only one in the world," said the servant.
He set down the golden salver, with the wizened pomegranate upon it, and
left the room. When he was gone, Proserpina could not help coming close
to the table, and looking at this poor specimen of dried fruit with a
great deal of eagerness; for, to say the truth, on seeing something
that suited her taste, she felt all the six months' appetite taking
possession of her at once. To be sure, it was a very wretched-looking
pomegranate, and seemed to have no more juice in it than an oyster
shell. But there was no choice of such things in King Pluto's palace.
This was the first fruit she had seen there, and the last she was ever
likely to see; and unless she ate it up immediately, it would grow drier
than it already was, and be wholly unfit to eat.
"At least, I may smell it," thought Proserpina.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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