When their hearts had grown a little more quiet, Mother Ceres looked anxiously at Proserpina.
But Proserpina was so alarmed, that she wished for nothing but to get out of his reach.
"Yet you chose the role of Proserpina, knowing—" He broke off, a shiver of constraint in his voice.
"I don't care for golden palaces and thrones," sobbed Proserpina.
His voice was so gruff and deep, and sounded just like the rumbling Proserpina had heard underneath the earth.
"I will neither drink that nor anything else," said Proserpina.
And while she was busy in a field she thought she heard Proserpina's voice calling her.
As long as Proserpina was above ground, there might have been hopes of regaining her.
It was not long before Proserpina saw that she had reached the meadow in which she had gathered flowers.
At the first noise of their entrance, Proserpina withdrew the pomegranate from her mouth.