Iris monologue (Act 2) — Proserpine and Midas

Sister of Heaven, as by Joves throne I stood The voice of thy deep prayer arose,—it filled The heavenly courts with sorrow and dismay: The Thunderer frowned, & heaven shook with dread I bear his will to thee, ’tis fixed by fate, Nor prayer nor murmur e’er can alter it. If Proserpine while she has lived in hell Has not polluted by Tartarian food Her heavenly essence, then she may return, And wander without fear on Enna’s plain, Or take her seat among the Gods above. If she has touched the fruits of Erebus, She never may return to upper air, But doomed to dwell amidst the shades of death, The wife of Pluto and the Queen of Hell.