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- Herausgeber: Charles River Editors
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
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Seitenzahl: 99
THE INFERNAL MARRIAGE
Benjamin Disraeli
KYPROS PRESS
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This book is a work of fiction; its contents are wholly imagined.
All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.
Copyright © 2015 by Benjamin Disraeli
Interior design by Pronoun
Distribution by Pronoun
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Infernal Marriage
PART I. A Sublime Elopement
PART II. A Visit to Elysium
PART III. Containing an Account of Tiresias at His Rubber
PART IV. Containing the First View of Elysium
THE INFERNAL MARRIAGE
PROSERPINE WAS THE DAUGHTER OF Jupiter and Ceres. Pluto, the god of Hell, became enamoured of her. His addresses were favoured by her father, but opposed by Ceres. Under these circumstances, he surprised her on the plains of Enna, and carried her off in his chariot.
PART I. A SUBLIME ELOPEMENT
IT WAS CLEARLY A RUNAWAY match—never indeed was such a sublime elopement. The four horses were coal-black, with blood-red manes and tails; and they were shod with rubies. They were harnessed to a basaltic car by a single rein of flame. Waving his double-pronged trident in the air, the god struck the blue breast of Cyane, and the waters instantly parted. In rushed the wild chariot, the pale and insensible Proserpine clinging to the breast of her grim lover.
Through the depths of the hitherto unfathomed lake the infernal steeds held their breathless course. The car jolted against its bed. ‘Save me!’ exclaimed the future Queen of Hades, and she clung with renewed energy to the bosom of the dark bridegroom. The earth opened; they entered the kingdom of the gnomes. Here Pluto was popular. The lurid populace gave him a loud shout. The chariot whirled along through shadowy cities and by dim highways, swarming with a busy race of shades.
‘Ye flowery meads of Enna!’ exclaimed the terrified Proserpine, ‘shall I never view you again? What an execrable climate!’
‘Here, however, in-door nature is charming,’ responded Pluto. ‘Tis a great nation of manufacturers. You are better, I hope, my Proserpine. The passage of the water is never very agreeable, especially to ladies.’
‘And which is our next stage?’ inquired Proserpine.
‘The centre of Earth,’ replied Pluto. ‘Travelling is so much improved that at this rate we shall reach Hades before night.’
‘Alas!’ exclaimed Proserpine, ‘is not this night?’
‘You are not unhappy, my Proserpine?’
‘Beloved of my heart, I have given up everything for you! I do not repent, but I am thinking of my mother.’
‘Time will pacify the Lady Ceres. What is done cannot be undone. In the winter, when a residence among us is even desirable, I should not be surprised were she to pay us a visit.’
‘Her prejudices are so strong,’ murmured the bride. ‘Oh my Pluto! I hope your family will be kind to me.’
‘Who could be unkind to Proserpine? Ours is a very domestic circle. I can assure you that everything is so well ordered among us that I have no recollection of a domestic broil.’
‘But marriage is such a revolution in a bachelor’s establishment,’ replied Proserpine, despondingly. ‘To tell the truth, too, I am half frightened at the thought of the Furies. I have heard that their tempers are so violent.’
‘They mean well; their feelings are strong, but their hearts are in the right place. I flatter myself you will like my nieces, the Parcæ. They are accomplished, and favourites among the men.’
‘Indeed!’
‘Oh! quite irresistible.’
‘My heart misgives me. I wish you had at least paid them the compliment of apprising them of our marriage.’
‘Cheer up. For myself, I have none but pleasant anticipations. I long to be at home once more by my own fireside, and patting my faithful Cerberus.’
‘I think I shall like Cerberus; I am fond of dogs.’
‘I am sure you will. He is the most faithful creature in the world.’
‘Is he very fierce?’
‘Not if he takes a fancy to you; and who can help taking a fancy to Proserpine?’
‘Ah! my Pluto, you are in love.’
‘Is this Hades?’ inquired Proserpine.
An avenue of colossal bulls, sculptured in basalt and breathing living flame, led to gates of brass, adorned with friezes of rubies, representing the wars and discomfiture of the Titans. A crimson cloud concealed the height of the immense portals, and on either side hovered o’er the extending walls of the city; a watch-tower or a battlement occasionally flashing forth, and forcing their forms through the lurid obscurity.
‘Queen of Hades! welcome to your capital!’ exclaimed Pluto.
The monarch rose in his car and whirled a javelin at the gates. There was an awful clang, and then a still more terrible growl.
‘My faithful Cerberus!’ exclaimed the King.
The portals flew open, and revealed the gigantic form of the celebrated watch-dog of Hell. It completely filled their wide expanse. Who but Pluto could have viewed without horror that enormous body covered with shaggy spikes, those frightful paws clothed with claws of steel, that tail like a boa constrictor, those fiery eyes that blazed like the blood-red lamps in a pharos, and those three forky tongues, round each of which were entwined a vigorous family of green rattlesnakes!
‘Ah! Cerby! Cerby!’ exclaimed Pluto; ‘my fond and faithful Cerby!’
Proserpine screamed as the animal gambolled up to the side of the chariot and held out its paw to its master. Then, licking the royal palm with its three tongues at once, it renewed its station with a wag of its tail which raised such a cloud of dust that for a few minutes nothing was perceptible.
‘The monster!’ exclaimed Proserpine.
‘My love!’ exclaimed Pluto, with astonishment.
‘The hideous brute!’
‘My dear!’ exclaimed Pluto.
‘He shall never touch me.’
‘Proserpine!’
‘Don’t touch me with that hand. You never shall touch me, if you allow that disgusting animal to lick your hand.’
‘I beg to inform you that there are few beings of any kind for whom I have a greater esteem than that faithful and affectionate beast.’
‘Oh! if you like Cerberus better than me, I have no more to say,’ exclaimed the bride, bridling up with indignation.
‘My Proserpine is perverse,’ replied Pluto; ‘her memory has scarcely done me justice.’
‘I am sure you said you liked Cerberus better than anything in the world,’ continued the goddess, with a voice trembling with passion.
‘I said no such thing,’ replied Pluto, somewhat sternly.
‘I see how it is,’ replied Proserpine, with a sob; ‘you are tired of me.’
‘My beloved!’
‘I never expected this.’
‘My child!’
‘Was it for this I left my mother?’
‘Powers of Hades! How you can say such things!’
‘Broke her heart?’
‘Proserpine! Proserpine!’
‘Gave up daylight?’
‘For the sake of Heaven, then, calm yourself!’
‘Sacrificed everything?’
‘My love! my life! my angel! what is all this?’
‘And then to be abused for the sake of a dog!’
‘By all the shades of Hell, but this is enough to provoke even immortals. What have I done, said, or thought, to justify such treatment?’
‘Oh! me!’
‘Proserpine!’
‘Heigho!’
‘Proserpine! Proserpine!’
‘So soon is the veil withdrawn!’
‘Dearest, you must be unwell. This journey has been too much for you,’
‘On our very bridal day to be so treated!’
‘Soul of my existence, don’t make me mad. I love you, I adore you; I have no hope, no wish, no thought but you. I swear it; I swear it by my sceptre and my throne. Speak, speak to your Pluto: tell him all your wish, all your desire. What would you have me do?’
‘Shoot that horrid beast.’
‘Ah! me!’
‘What, you will not? I thought how it would be. I am Proserpine, your beloved, adored Proserpine. You have no wish, no hope, no thought but for me! I have only to speak, and what I desire will be instantly done! And I do speak, I tell you my wish, I express to you my desire, and I am instantly refused! And what have I requested? Is it such a mighty favour? Is it anything unreasonable? Is there, indeed, in my entreaty anything so vastly out of the way? The death of a dog, a disgusting animal, which has already shaken my nerves to pieces; and if ever (here she hid her face in his breast), if ever that event should occur which both must desire, my Pluto, I am sure the very sight of that horrible beast will—I dare not say what it will do.’
Pluto looked puzzled.
‘Indeed, my Proserpine, it is not in my power to grant your request; for Cerberus is immortal, like ourselves.’
‘Me! miserable!’
‘Some arrangement, however, may be made to keep him out of your sight and hearing. I can banish him.’
‘Can you, indeed? Oh! banish him, my Pluto! pray banish him! I never shall be happy until Cerberus is banished.’
‘I will do anything you desire; but I confess to you I have some misgivings. He is an invaluable watch-dog; and I fear, without his superintendence, the guardians of the gate will scarcely do their duty.’
‘Oh! yes: I am sure they will, my Pluto! I will ask them to, I will ask them myself, I will request them, as a particular and personal favour to myself, to be very careful indeed. And if they do their duty, and I am sure they will, they shall be styled, as a reward, “Proserpine’s Own Guards."‘
‘A reward, indeed!’ said the enamoured monarch, as, with a sigh, he signed the order for the banishment of Cerberus in the form of his promotion to the office of Master of the royal and imperial bloodhounds.
The burning waves of Phlegethon assumed a lighter hue. It was morning. It was the morning after the arrival of Pluto and his unexpected bride. In one of the principal rooms of the palace three beautiful females, clothed in cerulean robes spangled with stars, and their heads adorned with golden crowns, were at work together. One held a distaff, from which the second spun; and the third wielded an enormous pair of adamantine shears, with which she perpetually severed the labours of her sisters. Tall were they in stature and beautiful in form. Very fair; an expression of haughty serenity pervaded their majestic countenances. Their three companions, however, though apparently of the same sex, were of a different character. If women can ever be ugly, certainly these three ladies might put in a valid claim to that epithet. Their complexions were dark and withered, and their eyes, though bright, were bloodshot. Scantily clothed in black garments, not unstained with gore, their wan and offensive forms were but slightly veiled. Their hands were talons; their feet cloven; and serpents were wreathed round their brows instead of hair. Their restless and agitated carriage afforded also not less striking contrast to the polished and aristocratic demeanour of their companions. They paced the chamber with hurried and unequal steps, and wild and uncouth gestures; waving, with a reckless ferocity, burning torches and whips of scorpions. It is hardly necessary to add that these were the Furies, and that the conversation which I am about to report was carried on with the Fates.
‘A thousand serpents!’ shrieked Tisiphone. ‘I will never believe it.’
‘Racks and flames!’ squeaked Megæra. ‘It is impossible.’
‘Eternal torture!’ moaned Alecto. ‘’Tis a lie.’
‘Not Jupiter himself should convince us!’ the Furies joined in infernal chorus.
‘’Tis nevertheless true,’calmly observed the beautiful Clotho.
‘You will soon have the honour of being presented to her,’ added the serene Lachesis.
‘And whatever we may feel,’ observed the considerate Atropos, ‘I think, my dear girls, you had better restrain yourselves.’
‘And what sort of thing is she?’ inquired Tisiphone, with a shriek.
‘I have heard that she is lovely,’ answered Clotho. ‘Indeed, it is impossible to account for the affair in any other way.’
‘’Tis neither possible to account for nor to justify it,’ squeaked Megæra.
