University of Virginia Library

THE SUBMISSION.

Within an iron chamber, deep in the sombre palace, were
crouching three old women, sitting and spinning, sad, solemn,
sullen, sulky, scandalous. The threads those women spun,
were of no earthly texture; the hands that held that distaff,
were of no terrene mould, no mortal fingers they that shut
those bright edged scissors, opened and shut, and cut the
fated thread of human life. Mournfully, mysteriously, went
round your magic wheel, ye priestesses of Destiny, when Hell
received your mistress, rival, and queen. Why should gangrenous
jealousy corrupt the eternal Parcæ? Why pales their
sinking cheek, why fades their ancient eye, why falls their

thin red hair, all matted on their bony necks, reeking with
proofs of recent lack of combs, and clean rain water!

Proserpine sleeps on Pluto's neck, and Erebus rejoices.
Now haste, the bridal bed bedeck, ye ghosts lift up your
voices; fill high with vinum Samium, and swell the glad
Epithalamium.

High on a throne, which carpenters far famed, on earth, of
yore, but now mechanic ghosts, had temporary raised upon a
hill, covered with carpets, Brussels and Ingrain, Pluto exalted
sat; by twelve steps raised to that good eminence; and,
from his seat, the summoned myriads of his realm surveyed,
Tartarean and Elysian. By his side, queenly, his bride sat
wondering at the shades, jostling, and for good places cager
pressing. As, when from senior's pews, the silken gowned
step glorious, and o'erspread the covered stage, on glad commencement-day—day
of relief from board with circles chalked,
and conic sections—solemn, grave Præses sits, and Latin
talks, and morals; in the body of the church, sound fans
incessant, beating the hot air; while youth, ingenuous, plies
the elbow.

The monarch, by the sight uplifted, slowly rose, and murmuring
plaudits rumbled through the crowd as he began to
speak. “Spirits and ghosts, our subjects dutiful”—but here,
a sudden clap of interposing thunder stopped the begun infliction,
announcing unexpectedly, a messenger from Jove.
Mercury knelt at the feet of the king, and handed him a letter.

Pale Proserpine trembled, while Pluto, muttering, broke
the seal, and swore, in a low tone—and loud Alecto laughed,
shaking her tied up snakes,—tied with white ribbons, for
the bridal—as o'er his royal shoulder, bending joyous, she
read the following epistle.