{"collection":"Classics","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cla/luc/wl1/wl168.htm","path":"cla/luc/wl1/wl168.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cla/luc/wl1/wl168.htm","text":"Protesilaus. Pluto. Persephone\nPro. Lord, King, our Zeus! and thou, daughter of Demeter! Grant a lover's boon!\nPl. What do you want? who are you?\nPro. Protesilaus, son of Iphiclus, of Phylace, one of the Achaean host, the first that died at Troy. And the boon I ask is release and one day's life.\nPl. Ah, friend, that is the love that all these dead men love, and none shall ever win.\nPro. Nay, dread lord, \u2019tis not life I love, but the bride that I left new wedded in my chamber that day I sailed away--ah me, to be slain by Hector as my foot touched land! My lord, that yearning gives me no peace. I return content, if she might look on me but for an hour.\nPl. Did you miss your dose of Lethe, man?\nPro. Nay, lord; but this prevailed against it.\nPl. Oh, well, wait a little; she will come to you one day; it is so simple; no need for you to be going up.\nPro. My heart is sick with hope deferred; thou too, O Pluto, hast loved; thou knowest what love is.\nPl. What good will it do you to come to life for a day, and then renew your pains?\nPro. I think to win her to come with me, and bring two dead for one.\nPl. It may not be; it never has been.\nPro. Bethink thee, Pluto. 'Twas for this same cause that ye gave Orpheus his Eurydice; and Heracles had interest enough to be granted Alcestis; she was of my kin.\nPl. Would you like to present that bare ugly skull to your fair bride? will she admit you, when she cannot tell you from another man? I know well enough; she will be frightened and run from you, and you will have gone all that way for nothing.\nPer. Husband, doctor that disease yourself: tell Hermes, as soon as Protesilaus reaches the light, to touch him with his wand, and make him young and fair as when he left the bridal chamber.\nPl. Well, I cannot refuse a lady. Hermes, take him up and turn him into a bridegroom. But mind, you sir, a strictly temporary one.\nH.","title":"Works of Lucian, Vol. I: Dialogues of the Dead: XXIII","type":"page"}