Monologue

Ceres Monologue from Proserpine

From Proserpine by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

female · anguished · 41 sec

:Is there no help, great Jove? If she depart :I will descend with her–the Earth shall lose :Its proud fertility, and Erebus :Shall bear my gifts throughout th' unchanging year. :Valued till now by thee, tyrant of Gods! :My harvests ripening by Tartarian fires :Shall feed the dead with Heaven's ambrosial food. :Wilt thou not then repent, brother unkind, :Viewing the barren earth with vain regret, :Thou didst not shew more mercy to my child?

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