Our primary source reading for this week is from The Golden Ass\u00a0(also called\u00a0The Metamorphoses), a novel written in Latin in the 2nd century CE by Apuleius. You will learn more about the context of the whole novel in my lecture, but for now, enjoy this folktale embedded within the larger story.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n As you read, please consider the following questions:<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n What do you think makes this a folktale as opposed to a myth?<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n What distinctions can you draw between folktale and myth?<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n Do you know of a folktale or fairy tale that has elements similar to this one?<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n 1\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In a certain city there lived a king and queen, who had three daughters of surpassing beauty. Though the elder two were extremely pleasing, still it was thought they were only worthy of mortal praise; but the youngest girl\u2019s looks were so delightful, so dazzling, no human speech in its poverty could celebrate them, or even rise to adequate description. Crowds of eager citizens, and visitors alike, drawn by tales of this peerless vision, stood dumbfounded, marvelling at her exceptional loveliness, pressing thumb and forefinger together and touching them to their lips, and bowing their heads towards her in pious prayer as if she were truly the goddess Venus. Soon the news spread through neighbouring cities, and the lands beyond its borders, that the goddess herself, born from the blue depths of the sea, emerging in spray from the foaming waves, was now gracing the earth in various places, appearing in many a mortal gathering or, if not that, then earth not ocean had given rise to a new creation, a new celestial emanation, another Venus, and as yet a virgin flower.<\/p>\n 2\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Day by day rumour gathered pace, and the fame of her beauty spread through the nearby islands, the mainland, and all but a few of the provinces. People journeyed from far countries, and sailed the deep sea in swelling throngs, to witness the sight of the age. Venus\u2019s shrines in Paphos, Cnidos, and even Cythera itself were no longer their destinations. Her rites were neglected, her temples abandoned, her cushions were trodden underfoot, the ceremonies uncelebrated, the statues un-garlanded, the altars cold with forsaken ashes. The girl it was, that people worshipped, seeking to propitiate the goddess\u2019 great power in a human face. When she walked out of a morning, they would invoke transcendent Venus in feast and sacrifice. And as she passed through the streets, crowds would shower her with garlands and flowers.<\/p>\n 3\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0This extravagant bestowal of the honours due to heaven on a mere mortal girl roused Venus herself to violent anger. She shook her head impatiently, and uttered these words of indignation to herself with a groan: \u201cBehold me, the primal mother of all that is, the source of the elements, the whole world\u2019s bountiful Venus, driven to divide my imperial honours with a lowly human! Is my name, established in heaven, to be traduced by earthly pollution? Am I to suffer the vagaries of vicarious reverence, a share in the worship of my divinity? Is a girl, destined to die, to tread the earth in my likeness? Was it nothing that Paris, that shepherd, whose just and honest verdict was approved by almighty Jove, preferred me for my matchless beauty to those other two great goddesses? But she\u2019ll reap no joy from usurping my honours, whatever she may be: I\u2019ll soon make her regret that illicit beauty of hers.\u201d<\/p>\n 4\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And she swiftly summoned Cupid, that son of hers, a winged and headstrong boy, who with his wicked ways and contempt for public order, armed with his torch and his bow and arrows, goes running around at night in other people\u2019s houses, ruining marriages everywhere, committing such shameful acts with impunity, and doing not an ounce of good.<\/p>\n 5\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Venus, with her words, rousing his natural impudence and wildness to new heights, led him to the city and showed him Psyche in person \u2013 such was the girl\u2019s name \u2013 and told the tale of her rival\u2019s loveliness, moaning and groaning in indignation. \u201cI beg you,\u201d she said, \u201cby the bond of maternal love, by your arrows\u2019 sweet wounds, by the honeyed licking of your flames, revenge your mother fully; exact harsh punishment from defiant beauty. One act of yours, pursued with a will, would accomplish all: let the girl be seized by violent, burning passion for the most wretched of men, one to whom Fortune has denied rank, wealth, even health, one so insignificant there is none on earth equal to him in misery.\u201d<\/p>\n 6\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With this she kissed her son long and tenderly with parted lips then, seeking the nearest strand of tide-swept shore, stepped on rose-tinted feet over the trembling crests of the foaming waves, and stood once more on the crystal surface of the deep. The ocean instantly obeyed her wishes, as if commanded in advance. The Nereids were there, singing a choral song; Portunus, the god of harbours, with his sea-green beard; Salacia, Neptune\u2019s wife, her lap alive with fish; and Palaemon the dolphins\u2019 little charioteer. Troops of Tritons too leapt here and there in the water. One blew softly on a melodious conch; another with a silk parasol shielded her from the sun\u2019s hostile blaze; another held a mirror to his mistress\u2019 eyes; while yet more swam harnessed in pairs to her chariot. Such was the throng escorting Venus as she moved out to sea.<\/p>\n 7\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche, for all her conspicuous beauty, reaped no profit from her charms. Gazed at by all, praised by all, no one, neither prince nor commoner, wishing to marry her, sought her hand. They admired her divine beauty of course, but as we admire a perfectly finished statue. Her two elder sisters, whose plainer looks had never been trumpeted through the world, were soon engaged to royal suitors and so made excellent marriages, but Psyche was left at home, a virgin, single, weeping in lonely solitude, ill in body and sore at heart, hating that beauty of form the world found so pleasing.<\/p>\n 8\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So the wretched girl\u2019s unhappy father, suspecting divine hostility, fearing the gods\u2019 anger, consulted the ancient Miletian oracle of Apollo at Didyma. With prayer and sacrifice he asked the mighty god for a man to marry the unfortunate girl. Apollo, though Greek and Ionian too, favoured the author of this Miletian tale with a reply in Latin:<\/p>\n \u201cHigh on a mountain crag, decked in her finery,<\/p>\n Lead your daughter, king, to her fatal marriage.<\/p>\n And hope for no child of hers born of a mortal,<\/p>\n But a cruel and savage, serpent-like winged evil,<\/p>\n Flying through the heavens, and threatening all,<\/p>\n Menacing every soul on earth with fire and sword,<\/p>\n Till Jove himself trembles, the gods are terrified,<\/p>\n And rivers quake and the Stygian shades beside.\u201d<\/p>\n 9\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The king, blessed till now, on hearing this utterance of sacred prophecy went slowly home in sadness and told his wife the oracle\u2019s dark saying. They moaned, they wept, they wailed for many a day. But the dire and fatal hour soon approached. The scene was set for the poor girl\u2019s dark wedding. The flames of the wedding torches grew dim with black smoky ash; the tune of hymen\u2019s flute sounded in plaintive Lydian mode, and the marriage-hymn\u2019s cheerful song fell to a mournful wail. The bride-to-be wiped tears away with her flame-red bridal veil; the whole city grieved at the cruel fate that had struck the afflicted house and public business was interrupted as a fitting show of mourning.<\/p>\n 10\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But the need to obey the divine command sent poor Psyche to meet the sentence decreed, the ritual preparations for the fatal marriage were completed in utter sorrow, and the living corpse was led from the house surrounded by all the people. Tearful Psyche walked along, not in wedding procession, but in her own funeral cortege. Her parents saddened and overcome by this great misfortune hesitated to carry out the dreadful deed, but their daughter herself urged them on:<\/p>\n \u201cWhy torment a sorrowful old age with endless weeping? Why exhaust your life\u2019s breath, which is my own, with this constant wailing? Why drown in vain tears those faces I love? Why wound my eyes by wounding your own? Why tear your white hair? Why beat the breasts that fed me? Let this be your glorious reward for my famous beauty. Too late you see the blow that falls is dealt by wicked Envy. When nations and countries granted me divine honours, when with one voice they named me as the new Venus, that\u2019s when you should have mourned, and wept, and grieved as if I were dead. I know now, I realise that her name alone destroys me. Lead me now to that cliff the oracle appointed. I go swiftly towards this fortunate marriage, I go swiftly to meet this noble husband of mine. Why delay, why run from the coming of one who\u2019ll be born for the whole world\u2019s ruin?\u201d<\/p>\n 11\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With this, the girl fell silent, and went steadfastly on, accompanied by the throng of citizens around her. They came to the steep mountain crag decreed, and placed the girl, as commanded, on its very top, then deserted her, one and all. They left behind the bridal torches, lighted on the way, and now extinguished by their tears, and heads bent low began their journey home, where her unhappy parents, exhausted by this dreadful blow, shut themselves in the darkness of their room, and resigned themselves to endless night.<\/p>\n 12\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Meanwhile Psyche, on the topmost summit, frightened, trembling, and in tears, was lifted by a gentle breeze, a softly whispering Zephyr, stirring her dress around her and causing it to billow, its tranquil breath carrying her slowly down the high cliff slopes to the valley below, where it laid her tenderly on a bed of flowering turf.<\/p>\n 13\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche, pleasantly reclining in that grassy place on a bed of dew-wet grass, free of her mental perturbation, fell peacefully asleep, and when she was sufficiently refreshed by slumber, rose, feeling calm. She saw a grove planted with great, tall trees; she saw a glittering fount of crystal water.<\/p>\n 14\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0At the very centre of the grove beside the flowing stream was a regal palace, not made by human hands, but built by divine art. You knew from the moment you entered you were viewing the splendid shining residence of a god. There were coffered ceilings, exquisitely carved from ivory and citron-wood supported on golden pillars; the walls were covered with relief-work in silver, wild beasts in savage herds met your gaze as you reached the doorway. They were the work of some eminent master, or a demigod or god perhaps, who with the subtlety of great art had made creatures all of silver. Even the floors were of mosaic, pictures patterned from precious stones cut into tiny tiles. Blessed twice over or more are those who tread on shining jewels and gems! The length and breadth of the rest of the house was equally beyond price, the walls constructed of solid gold gleaming with their own brilliance, so that even without the sun\u2019s rays the house shone like day. The rooms, the colonnades, the very doorposts glowed. And every other feature matched the house in magnificence, so you would have thought, rightly, that this was a heavenly palace made for Jove to use on his visits to the world.<\/p>\n 15\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Seduced by the attractions of this lovely place Psyche moved closer and, gaining confidence, dared to cross the threshold. Now her desire to gaze on all these beautiful things led her to examine every object closely. On the far side of the palace she found storerooms made with noble skill, heaped to the roof with mounds of treasure. All that existed was there. And beyond her amazement at the vast quantities of riches, she was especially startled to find not a lock, or bolt or chain to defend this treasure-house of all the world. As she looked around her, in rapturous delight, a bodiless voice spoke to her: \u201cLady, why are you so surprised at all this vast wealth? All that is here is yours. So retire to your room, and ease your weariness on the bed, and when you wish you can bathe. The voices you may hear are those of your servants, we who wait on you willingly, and when your body is refreshed we will be ready with a feast.\u201d<\/p>\n 16\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche felt blessed by divine providence, and obeying the guidance of the disembodied voice, eased her weariness with sleep and then a bath. Nearby she found a semi-circular table, and judging from the dinner setting that it was meant for her, she promptly sat down to wait. Instantly trays loaded with food and cups of nectar appeared, without trace of servants, they were wafted and set before her as though by a breath of air. No one was visible, but words could be heard from somewhere, her waiters were merely voices. And after a sumptuous meal, someone invisible came and sang, and someone played a lyre, invisible too. And there came to her ears the interweaving melodies of some large throng, some invisible choir.<\/p>\n 17\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When these delights were ended, prompted by the sight of the evening star, Psyche retired to bed. Now, when night was well advanced, gentle whispers sounded in her ears, and all alone she feared for her virgin self, trembling and quivering, frightened most of what she knew nothing of. Her unknown husband had arrived and mounted the bed, and made Psyche his wife, departing swiftly before light fell. The servant-voices waiting in her chamber cared for the new bride no longer virgin. Things transpired thus for many a night, and through constant habit, as nature dictates, her new state accustomed her to its pleasures, and that sound of mysterious whispering consoled her solitude.<\/p>\n 18\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Meanwhile her father and mother, mourning and grieving ceaselessly, aged greatly. The story had spread far and wide, and her elder sisters learning of all that had occurred, abandoned their own homes, and sorrowing and lamenting, vied with each other in bringing solace to their parents.<\/p>\n 19\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0One night Psyche\u2019s husband spoke to her, though she could not see him, knowing him nonetheless by touch and hearing.<\/p>\n \u201cSweetest Psyche,\u201d he said, \u201cmy dear wife, cruel Fortune threatens you with deadly danger, which I want you to guard against with utmost care. Your sisters think you dead and, troubled by this, they\u2019ll soon come to the cliff-top. When they do, if you should chance to hear their lament, don\u2019t answer or even look in their direction, or you\u2019ll cause me the bitterest pain and bring utter ruin on yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n 20\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Assenting, she promised to behave as her husband wished. But when he had vanished with the darkness, she spent the day weeping and grieving wretchedly, repeating again and again that she was truly dead, caged by the walls of her luxurious prison, bereft of human company and mortal speech, unable to tell her sisters not to mourn for her, and worse unable even to see them. She retired to bed once more, with neither bath nor food nor any drink to restore her, and there she wept profusely. Soon her husband came to join her, earlier than was his wont, and finding her still crying, clasped her in his arms and scolded her.<\/p>\n \u201cIs this what you promised me, dear Psyche? What can I expect or hope from you? Day and night you never stop tormenting yourself even in the midst of our love-making. Well do as you wish, obey your heart\u2019s fatal demands! But remember my dire warning when, too late, you repent.\u201d<\/p>\n 21\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But Psyche pleaded with him, threatening to die if he would not agree to her desire to see her sisters, speak with them, and ease her sorrows. So he acceded to his new bride\u2019s prayers, and also said she could give them whatever gold or jewellery she wished. But he warned her, time and again, often with threats, never to yield if her sisters gave her bad advice or urged her to investigate his appearance. Otherwise, through curiosity, her act of sacrilege would hurl her from the heights of good fortune, and she would never enjoy his embraces more.<\/p>\n 22\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0She gave him thanks and, happier now, cried: \u201cI\u2019d rather die a hundred times than be robbed of your sweet caresses. Whoever you are I love you deeply, and adore you as much as life itself. Not even Cupid could compare to you. But grant me this favour, I beg: let your servant Zephyr waft my sisters here just as he wafted me.\u201d And she began to offer alluring kisses, smother him with caressing words, and wrap him in her entwining limbs, adding to her charms with phrases like: \u201cMy honey-sweet, dear husband, your Psyche\u2019s tender soul.\u201d He succumbed reluctantly to the strength and power of her seductive murmurs, promising to agree to everything, and then as daylight drew near vanished from his wife\u2019s embrace.<\/p>\n 23\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Meanwhile her sisters hurried to the crag where Psyche had been abandoned, and wept their eyes out, beating their breasts, till the cliffs and rocks echoed with the sound of their loud wailing. Then they called their poor sister\u2019s name till Psyche came running from the palace, distraught and trembling, at the sound of their melancholy voices descending the slope.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy tear yourselves apart with heart-wrenching grief?\u201d she cried. \u201cI who you mourn am here. Cease those sad sounds and dry your cheeks drenched in tears, you can embrace the girl for whom you weep.\u201d<\/p>\n 24\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then she summoned Zephyr, reminding him of her husband\u2019s orders. He obeyed instantly and her sisters were wafted down to her, safely riding the gentlest of breezes. They all delighted in eager embraces and mutual kisses, and the flow of tears that had been stemmed returned at joy\u2019s urging.<\/p>\n \u201cNow enter my home, in happiness,\u201d cried Psyche, \u201cand ease your troubled minds beside me.\u201d<\/p>\n 25\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So she showed them the noble treasures of the golden house and called up the throng of attendant voices. They refreshed themselves, luxuriating in a fragrant bath and tasting the delicacies of an out-of-this-world cuisine. And the result was that, overcome by the fine abundance of truly heavenly riches, they began to nurture envy deep in their hearts. They started to question her endlessly, inquisitively, and intensively. Who owned these divine objects? What sort of man was her husband and who on earth was he? But Psyche could not banish the thought of her secret promise and violate her pledge to her husband, so she pretended he was a young and handsome man, with just the hint of a beard on his cheeks, who spent his days hunting over the fields and hillsides. But afraid of revealing something if the talk continued, and so betraying his trust, she heaped gold and jewellery in their hands, called there and then for Zephyr, and placed her sisters in his charge so he might return them.<\/p>\n 26\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Once this was done, those delightful sisters were victims of envy\u2019s swelling bile and complained loudly to each other.<\/p>\n \u201cO blind, cruel, iniquitous Fortune,\u201d cried one, \u201cIs it your pleasure that we, daughters with the very same parents, should suffer so different a fate? Are we the elder to live like exiles far from family, bound as slaves to foreign husbands, exiled from home and country, while she the youngest, the last creation of our mother\u2019s exhausted womb, acquires such wealth and a god of a husband? Sister, did you see all those fine gems lying around that palace? Did you see those gleaming clothes and sparkling jewels, and all that gold under our feet? Why she\u2019ll not even know how to make use of it! If she keeps that handsome husband of hers, she\u2019ll be the luckiest woman in the world, and perhaps she hopes if their marriage endures and his affection increases her divine husband will make her a goddess too. That\u2019s it, that\u2019s why she behaved and acted as she did! The girl\u2019s already gazing heavenwards, aspiring to deity, with invisible voices serving her, and she giving orders to the breeze. While look at poor me, with a husband older than father, as bald as a pumpkin, and weak as a little child, who makes the house a prison with his bolts and chains!\u201d<\/p>\n 27\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The other chipped in: \u201cAs for mine, he\u2019s bent and bowed with arthritis, and scarcely ever pays homage to my charms. I\u2019m forever massaging his twisted and frozen fingers, and soiling these delicate hands of mine with his odious fomentations, sordid bandages, and fetid poultices. Instead of playing the role of a normal wife, I\u2019m burdened with playing his doctor. Decide for yourself, dear sister, with how much patience and, let me be frank, servility you\u2019ll endure this situation, but speaking for myself I won\u2019t tolerate so delightful a fate descending on so undeserving a girl. Just think of the pride and arrogance she showed us, the haughtiness, the boastfulness of her immoderate display, the reluctance with which she threw us a few little trinkets from her caskets, and then, tired of our presence, quickly ordered us driven out, whistled off, and blown away! If there\u2019s a breath left in me, as I\u2019m a woman, I\u2019ll see her cast down from that pile of gold. And if you feel the sting of her insults too, as you should, let\u2019s devise a workable plan between us. Let\u2019s keep from our parents that she\u2019s alive, and hide these things she gave us: it\u2019s enough that we two have seen all that we now regret seeing, let alone that we should bring glorious news of her to them and the world. There is no glory in unknown riches. She\u2019ll discover we\u2019re her elder sisters not her servants. Now let\u2019s return to our husbands and our plain but respectable homes, and once we\u2019ve thought carefully about it, let\u2019s return in strength and punish her arrogance.\u201d<\/p>\n 28\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0This wicked scheme greatly pleased the two wicked sisters. They hid all the costly gifts, and tearing their hair and lacerating their cheeks, as they deserved to do, falsely renewed their lamentations. They soon frightened their parents into reopening the wound of their sorrow also. Then swollen with venom, they hastened home to plan their crime against an innocent sister, even to murder.<\/p>\n 29\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Meanwhile her unseen husband, on his nightly visit, warned Psyche once more: \u201cSee how much danger you\u2019re in. Fortune is plotting at a distance, but soon, unless you take firm precautions, she\u2019ll be attacking you face to face. Those treacherous she-wolves are working hard to execute some evil act against you, by tempting you to examine my features. But do so and, as I\u2019ve told you, you\u2019ll never see me again. So if those foul harpies armed with their noxious thoughts return, as I know they will, you must hold no conversation with them. And if in your true innocence and tender-heartedness you can\u2019t bear that, then at least, if they speak of me, don\u2019t listen, or if you must, don\u2019t answer. You see our family will increase, and your womb, a child\u2019s, must bear another child, who if you keep our secret silently will be divine, though if you profane it, mortal.\u201d<\/p>\n 30\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche blossomed with joy at the news, hailing the solace of a divine child, exulting in the glory of the one to be born, and rejoicing in the name of mother. She counted the swelling days, and the vanishing months, and as a beginner knowing nothing of the burden she bore was amazed at the growth of her seething womb from a tiny pinprick.<\/p>\n 31\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But those foul and pestilential Furies, her sisters, breathing viperous venom, were sailing towards her with impious speed. Now for a second time her husband warned Psyche in passing: \u201cThe fatal day, the final peril, the malice of your sex and hostile blood have taken arms against you, struck camp, prepared for battle, and sounded the attack. Those wicked sisters of yours with drawn swords are at your throat. What disaster threatens, sweet Psyche! Take pity on yourself and me. With resolution and restraint you can free your home and husband, yourself, and our child from the imminent danger that threatens. Don\u2019t look at or listen to those evil women, who with their murderous hostility, their disregard of the bonds of blood, you should not call sisters, as they lean from the cliff-top like Sirens and make the rocks echo with that fatal singing.\u201d<\/p>\n 32\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Her answer almost lost in tearful sobbing, Psyche replied: \u201cOnce before you asked for proof of my loyalty and discretion, now too you will find me just as resolute. Give your servant Zephyr his orders once more: let him perform his task, and if I am not to see your sacred face, grant me at least a glimpse of my sisters. By those cinnamon perfumed locks that adorn your head, by those softly rounded cheeks like my own, by your breast so warm, so wonderfully aflame; as I hope to find your looks in my unborn child\u2019s, at least, I beg you, yield to the loving prayers of a yearning suppliant and allow me the pleasure of sisterly embraces. Fill your dedicated and devoted Psyche\u2019s spirit with joy once more. I\u2019ll ask no more regarding your appearance. Clasping you in my arms, not even the darkness of the night can hurt me now, my light.\u201d<\/p>\n 33\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Bewitched by her words and her sweet caresses, her husband wiped away her tears with his hair and gave her his agreement, vanishing swiftly before the light of the new-born day.<\/p>\n Book V:14-21 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the sisters\u2019 scheme<\/p>\n 34\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Wedded together in conspiracy, her sisters, landing at the nearest harbour, and not even troubling to visit their parents, now hurried to the cliff, and with wild recklessness, not waiting for the attendant breeze, flung themselves into the air. Zephyr, mindful of his master\u2019s orders, caught them reluctantly in the folds of his ethereal robes, and set them gently on the ground. Without a moment\u2019s hesitation they marched into the palace side by side and with false affection embraced their victim, flattering her, masking the depths of their secret treachery with pleasing smiles.<\/p>\n \u201cDear Psyche,\u201d they said, \u201cno longer the little girl you once were, a mother now, think what a fine thing for us that burden of yours will prove! With what joy you\u2019ll fill our whole house! O how lucky we will be, to share in the care for that golden child! If it takes after its father as it ought, it will be a perfect little cupid.\u201d<\/p>\n 35\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With such simulated expressions of feeling they gradually influenced their sister\u2019s mind. Once eased of their travel weariness by rest, and refreshed by vaporous warm baths, they feasted well on fine rich foods and sweetmeats. She ordered a lyre to play, it sounded; flutes to pipe, they trilled; choirs to perform, and voices swelled. Those sounds with no visible musicians caressed the listeners\u2019 souls with the sweetest of melodies. But the wickedness of those vile women was not lessened at all by those honeyed modulations. They turned the conversation according to their deceitful scheming casually towards her husband: what kind of a man he was, what his birth and background. In her thoughtless innocence Psyche forgot her earlier inventions, and composed a fresh fiction. She claimed he came from the neighbouring province, a merchant responsible for extensive trade, middle-aged, with a dash of grey in his hair. Without prolonging the conversation, she heaped lavish gifts on them once again, and sent them back by their airy vehicle.<\/p>\n 36\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Once conveyed aloft on Zephyr\u2019s tranquil breath, they returned home talking spitefully: \u201cWell sister, what do you say to that foolish girl\u2019s monstrous lies? First he\u2019s a young man with a new growth of beard, now he\u2019s middle-aged with a streak of grey in his hair. Who can change so suddenly from one age to another? The answer my sister, is that she\u2019s making the whole thing up or has no idea what her husband looks like. In either case, we must soon separate her from her riches. If she\u2019s truly ignorant of what he looks like, she must have married a god, and it\u2019s a divine child that womb of hers is carrying. Well if she becomes the mother of a deity, and let\u2019s hope not, I\u2019ll tie the noose and hang myself. Meanwhile, back to our parents, and weave the threads of guile to match the pattern of our scheming.\u201d<\/p>\n 37\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0They greeted their parents haughtily, but irritated thus, they spent a troubled and a wakeful night. Early in the morning the wretched pair, hastened to the cliff and, with the help of the breeze as usual, swooped downwards angrily. Rubbing their eyelids to squeeze out a tear, they greeted the girl with cunning: \u201cThere you sit, feeling blessed and happy, in ignorance of your dire misfortune, careless of your danger; while we\u2019ve been awake all night, unsleeping in our concern for your problems, sadly tormented by your impending disaster. We know the truth now, you see, and sharing of course in your ills and troubles we cannot hide it from you: what sleeps beside you, shrouded by the darkness, is a monstrous serpent, a slippery knot of coils, its blood-filled gaping jaws oozing noxious venom. Remember Apollo\u2019s oracle which prophesied you were destined to wed some brutish creature. Hunters, and farmers, and others round about have seen the thing returning from its predations, swimming in the shallows of the nearby river. They say that he\u2019ll soon cease to nourish you with those delightful offerings, in which he indulges, but once your pregnancy reaches full term and burdens you with its richest fruit, he\u2019ll devour you. You must decide about all this, will you listen to your sisters both concerned for your safety, shun death, and live with us free from danger? Or do you prefer to end in the stomach of that savage beast? If you delight in the sounding solitude of this rural retreat of yours, the foul and perilous embrace of a clandestine love, the clasp of a venomous serpent, well, at least we loving sisters will have performed our duty.\u201d<\/p>\n 38\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then poor little Psyche, naive and vulnerable, was seized with terror at their dark words. Beyond reason, she forgot all the warnings her husband had issued, and her own pledge, and plunged headlong to ruin. Trembling and pale, the blood draining from her face, stammering feverish words through half-open lips, she answered as follows:<\/p>\n \u201cDearest sisters, true and loyal as ever to your own, you are right: I believe those who told you all this speak no lie. Indeed, I have never seen my husband\u2019s face, nor do I know what he truly is. I only hear his midnight whispers, and suffer the attentions of an unseen partner who shuns the light. He must be some strange creature, I agree. He always warns me not to try and reveal his features, and threatens harsh punishment for my curiosity concerning his appearance. If you can save your sister from this danger, help me now. Neglect me and you\u2019ll undo the good your care has brought about.\u201d<\/p>\n 39\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Her defences were down, and those wicked sisters, having breached the gates of her mind, now quit the cover of their secret scheming, drew their blades, and bore down on the helpless girl\u2019s timidity. Said one: \u201cSince our love of family compels us to shun all danger where a sister\u2019s life is at stake, we\u2019ll show you the only way to reach salvation, a carefully thought out plan. Take a sharp razor, whet it further, hide it in your palm then place it secretly under the pillow where you lie. Then trim the lamp, fill it with oil, so it shines with a clear light, and conceal it under a little cover. Prepare all this with the utmost caution, and after he\u2019s slithered into bed with you, as he\u2019s lying there enmeshed in the web of sleep, and breathing deeply, slip from the bed and, tiptoeing barefoot without a sound, free the lamp from its dark prison. Seize the chance for a glorious deed of your own from the light\u2019s clear counsel; and grasping your double-bladed weapon tightly, raise your right hand high, and with the firmest stroke you can muster sever the venomous serpent\u2019s head from his body. Our help will not be lacking. As soon as you\u2019ve won freedom by his death we\u2019ll be waiting anxiously to rush to your aid, and carrying all the treasure back with us, we\u2019ll see you joined in proper marriage vows, mortal to mortal.\u201d<\/p>\n 40\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With this inflaming speech they kindled their sister\u2019s now heated mind further and then left her, fearing, themselves, to haunt the scene of so evil an act. They were wafted by the winged breeze to the summit of the cliff as before and, hastening away in swift retreat, boarded their ships and were gone.<\/p>\n 41\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche was left alone, except that a woman driven by hostile Furies is never alone. In her grief, she ebbed and flowed like the ocean tide. Though the scheme was decided and she determined, still as she drew towards the act itself she wavered, confused in mind, torn by the countless conflicting emotions the situation prompted. She prepared and delayed, dared and feared, despaired and felt anger, while, hardest of all to endure, she hated the beast and loved the husband embodied in a single form. Yet, as evening led towards night, she readied all needed for the wicked crime with frantic haste. Night fell, and her husband came, and after love\u2019s skirmishes and struggles he dropped into deep slumber.<\/p>\n 42\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then Psyche, though lacking strength and courage, was empowered by cruel fate, and unveiling the lamp, seized the razor, acting a man\u2019s part in her boldness. Yet, as the light shone clear and the bed\u2019s mysteries were revealed, she found her savage beast was the gentlest and sweetest creature of all, that handsome god Cupid, handsome now in sleep. At the sight, even the lamp\u2019s flame quickened in joy, and the razor regretted its sacrilegious stroke. But Psyche, terrified at the marvellous vision, beside herself with fear, and overcome with sudden weariness, sank pale, faint and trembling to her knees. She tried to conceal the weapon, in her own breast! She would indeed have done so if the gleaming blade had not flown from her reckless hands, in horror at her dreadful intent. Exhausted now by the sense of release, she gazed again and again at the beauty of that celestial face, and her spirits revived.<\/p>\n 43\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0She saw the glorious tresses, drenched with ambrosia, on his golden brow, the neatly tied locks straying over his rosy cheeks and milk-white neck, some hanging delicately in front, others behind, and the splendour of their shining brilliance made the lamplight dim. Over the winged god\u2019s shoulders white plumage glimmered like petals in the morning dew, and though his wings were at rest, soft little feathers at their edges trembled restlessly in wanton play. The rest of his body was smooth and gleaming, such that Venus had no regrets at having borne such a child. At the foot of the bed lay his bow, and his quiver full of arrows, the graceful weapons of the powerful god.<\/p>\n 44\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With insatiable curiosity Psyche examined, touched, wondered at her husband\u2019s weapons. She drew an arrow from the quiver, testing the point against her thumb-tip, but her hand was still trembling and pressing too hard she pricked the surface, so that tiny drops of crimson blood moistened the skin. Thus without knowing it Psyche fell further in love with Love himself, so that now inflamed with desire for Desire, she leaned over Cupid, desperate for him. She covered him eagerly with passionate impetuous kisses till she feared she might wake him. Then as her wounded heart beat with the tremor of such bliss, the lamp, in wicked treachery, or malicious jealousy, or simply longing to touch and kiss, in some fashion, that wondrous body, shed a drop of hot oil from the depths of its flame on to the god\u2019s right shoulder. O bold and careless lamp, a poor servant to Love, scorching the god of flame himself, though a lover it was who first invented you so as to enjoy, even at night, an endless sight of his beloved! Scalded like this the god leapt up, and realising his secret had been betrayed, flew swiftly and silently from his unhappy wife\u2019s kisses and embrace.<\/p>\n 45\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Yet, as he rose, Psyche clasped his right leg with both hands, a piteous impediment to his soaring flight; a trailing appendage; a dangling companion amongst the cloudy regions. At last she fell to the ground, exhausted. As she lay there, her divine lover chose not to desert her, but flew to a nearby cypress tree, from whose heights he spoke to her in her distress:<\/p>\n \u201cPoor innocent Psyche,\u201d he cried, \u201cVenus commanded me, though I have disobeyed my mother\u2019s orders, to fill you with passion for some vile wretch and sentence you to the meanest kind of marriage, but I flew to you as your lover instead. It was a foolish thing to do, I see that, and illustrious archer though I am, I shot myself with my own arrow, and made you my wife, only for you to think me some savage monster, and sever my head with a sword, a head that bears the very eyes that love you. I told you time and again to beware of this, I warned you over and over for your own good. As for those precious advisors of yours, I\u2019ll soon take my revenge for their pernicious machinations; you I punish merely by my flight.\u201d With this he took wing and soared into the air.<\/p>\n 46\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche lay there, on the ground, watching her husband\u2019s passage till he was out of sight, tormenting herself with the saddest lamentations. But once he was lost to view, sped onwards into the distance by his beating wings, she hurled herself from the margin of the nearest river. Yet the tender stream, respecting the god who can make even water burn, fearing for its own flow, quickly clasped her in its innocuous current and placed her on the soft turf of its flowery bank. By chance, Pan, god of the wild, was seated on the shore, caressing Echo the mountain goddess, teaching her to repeat tunes in a thousand modes. By the river\u2019s edge, wandering she-goats grazed and frolicked, cropping the flowing grasses. The goat-legged god, catching sight of the sad and weary Psyche, and not unconscious of her plight, called to her gently and calmed her with soothing words.<\/p>\n \u201cSweet lady, though I\u2019m only a rustic herdsman, I benefit from the experience of many a long year. If I surmise rightly, though wise men call it not surmise but rather divination, by your weak and wandering footsteps, your deathly pale complexion, your constant sighs and those sad eyes, you are suffering from love\u2019s extremes. But listen to what I say, don\u2019t try to find death again by a suicidal leap or in some other way. Cease your mourning, end this sorrow. Rather pray to Cupid, greatest of the gods, worship him and earn his favour through blandishments and deference, for he\u2019s a pleasure-seeking, tender-hearted youth.\u201d<\/p>\n 47\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche gave no reply to the shepherd god, but gave him reverence as he finished speaking, and went her way. After she\u2019d wearily walked a good deal further, not knowing where she was, she came at twilight to a city where one of her brother-in-laws was king. Realising this, Psyche asked that her arrival be communicated to her sister. She was quickly led to her, and when they were done with embraces and greetings, her sister asked the reason for her presence. Psyche explained:<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ll recall your counsel, when you both advised me to take a sharp razor and kill the monster that played the role of husband and slept with me, before its rapacious jaws might swallow me whole. Well, I acted on that advice, with the lamp my accomplice, but when I gazed on his face I saw an utterly wonderful, a divine sight: Venus\u2019s child, the goddess\u2019s son, Cupid himself I say, lying there, and sleeping peacefully. Roused by that blissful vision, disturbed by excess of joy, distressed at being unable to delight in him much longer, through dreadful mischance a drop of hot oil spurted onto his shoulder. The pain roused him from sleep and, seeing that I was armed with flame and steel, he cried: \u2018For your wicked crime, you are banished from my bed, take what is yours and go. I shall embrace your sister now \u2013 he spoke your name formally \u2013 in holy matrimony.\u2019 Then he ordered Zephyr to drive me from the palace.\u201d<\/p>\n 48\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche had barely finished speaking before her sister, spurred on by raging passion and venomous jealousy, had conceived a tale to deceive her husband. Pretending she had just had news of her parents\u2019 deaths, she took ship, and travelled to the cliff-edge. Though an adverse wind was blowing, filled with desire and in blind hope she cried: \u201cAccept a wife worthy of you, Cupid: carry your mistress to him, Zephyr! And she took a headlong leap. Yet even in death she could not reach her goal. Her body was broken and torn on the jagged rocks, as she deserved, and her lacerated corpse provided a ready banquet for the wild beasts and carrion birds.<\/p>\n 49\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Nor was the second sister\u2019s punishment slow in arriving. Psyche wandered on to the city where her other sibling lived in similar style, who likewise roused by her sister\u2019s story, eager to supplant her wickedly in marriage, rushed to the cliff and met the selfsame end.<\/p>\n 50\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche wandered through the land, seeking Cupid, while he lay in his mother\u2019s chamber groaning with pain from his scorched shoulder. Meanwhile a snow-white bird, the seagull that skims the surface of the sea, dived swiftly beneath the ocean waves, found Venus where she swam and bathed in the deep, and gave her the news that Cupid had been burned, was in the utmost pain from his wound, and lay there in doubtful health; moreover the rumours circling through the world, by word of mouth, had heaped reproach on her and gained her whole household a dreadful reputation. People said that they\u2019d both abandoned their post, he to dally in the mountains, she to sport in the sea; that all delight, grace and charm was gone; that all was boorish, rough, unkempt; no nuptial rites, no friendly gatherings, no love of children; only a vast confusion, and a squalid disregard for the chafing bonds of marriage. So that loquacious, meddlesome bird cackled on in Venus\u2019 ear, tearing her son to shreds before her eyes.<\/p>\n 51\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Venus at once grew angry, crying: \u201cSo now that fine son of mine has a girlfriend has he? Come tell me then, my only loving servant, the name of the creature that\u2019s seduced a simple innocent child. Is she one of the host of Nymphs, or the troop of Hours, or the Muses\u2019 choir, or my own companions the Graces?\u201d The talkative bird\u2019s tongue ran on: \u201cMistress, I\u2019m not sure, but I heard he was desperately in love with a girl \u2013 Psyche, by name, if I remember rightly.\u201d Now Venus screamed, loud with indignation: \u201cPsyche, that witch who steals my form, that pretender to my name! Is she the one who delights him? Does the imp take me for some procuress, who pointed that same girl out so he might know her?\u201d<\/p>\n 52\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With this cry, she swiftly emerged from the sea, and sought her golden chamber, where she found her son, indisposed as she had heard. She shouted from the doorway at the top of her voice: \u201cFine behaviour, highly creditable to your birth and reputation! First you disregard your mother\u2019s orders, or rather your queen\u2019s I should say, and fail to visit a sordid passion on the girl, then, a mere boy, you couple with her, my enemy, in reckless, immature love-making, presumably thinking I\u2019d love that woman I hate as a daughter-in-law? You presume you\u2019ll remain the only prince, unlovable, worthless rake that you are, and that I\u2019m too old to conceive again. Well, know that I\u2019ll produce a better son than you. You\u2019ll feel the insult all the more when I adopt one of my slave boys, and grant him your wings and torches, bow and arrows, and all the rest of the gear I gave you, which was never intended to be used this way. Remember your father Vulcan makes no allowance from his estate for equipping you. You were badly brought up from infancy, quick to raise your hands and fire arrows at your elders in disrespect, and expose me, your mother, to shame each day, you monster! You often make me your target, sneer at me as \u2018the widow\u2019, without fearing your step-father, Mars, the world\u2019s strongest and mightiest warrior. Why would you, since you provide that adulterer with a ready supply of girls to torment me with? But I warn you: you\u2019ll be sorry for mocking me, when that marriage of yours leaves a sour, bitter taste in your mouth!\u201d<\/p>\n 53\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He was silent, but she went on complaining to herself: \u201cOh, what shall I do, where can I turn now everyone\u2019s laughing at me? Dare I ask for help from my enemy Moderation, whom my son\u2019s very excesses so often offend? Yet I shudder at the thought of tackling that squalid old peasant woman. Still, whatever its source, the solace of revenge is not to be spurned. I must certainly use her, her alone, to impose the harshest punishment on that good-for-nothing, shatter his quiver and blunt his arrows, unstring his bow, and quench his torch. And I\u2019ll spoil his looks with a harsher medicine still: I\u2019ll not consider my injuries atoned for till she\u2019s shaved off his golden hair, which I brushed myself till it shone like gold; and clipped those wings of his, that I steeped in the stream of milky nectar from my breasts.\u201d<\/p>\n 54\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With that she rushed out again, bitterly angry, in a storm of passion. At that instant she met with Juno and Ceres, who seeing her wrathful look, asked why that sullen frown was marring the loveliness of her bright eyes. \u201cHow opportune,\u201d she cried, \u201cmy heart is ablaze and here you come to do me a kindness. Exert your considerable powers, I beg, to find my elusive runaway Psyche. I assume the widespread tale of my family, the exploits of that unspeakable son of mine, have not escaped you.\u201d<\/p>\n 55\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then they, aware of what had gone on, tried to assuage Venus\u2019 savage anger: \u201cMy dear,\u201d they said, \u201cwhat is this fault your son committed that you take so seriously, so much so you set out to thwart his pleasures, and seem so eager to ruin the girl he loves? What crime is it, we ask, if he likes to smile at a pretty girl? Don\u2019t you know he\u2019s young and male? Or have you forgotten his age? Just because he carries his years lightly, do you think him forever a child? You\u2019re a mother and a sensible woman besides. Stop spying so keenly on your son\u2019s pursuits, blaming his self-indulgence, scolding him for his love affairs, in short finding fault with your own pleasures and talents, in the shape of your handsome son. What god, indeed what mortal, could endure your sowing the seeds of desire everywhere yet constraining love bitterly where your own home is concerned, and shuttering the official workshop where women\u2019s faults are made?\u201d<\/p>\n 56\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So they obligingly provided the absent Cupid with a plausible defence but Venus, offended that her wrongs were being ridiculed, turned her back on them and swept off towards the sea.<\/p>\n 57\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Meanwhile Psyche wandered day and night, restlessly seeking her husband, eager if she could not mollify his anger with a wife\u2019s caresses, at least to appease him with a devotee\u2019s prayers. Spying a temple on the summit of a high mountain, she thought: \u201cHow do I know he might not live there?\u201d Swiftly she moved towards it. Though she was wearied from her efforts, hope and desire quickened her step. When she had clambered up to the lofty ridge, she entered the shrine and stood by the sacred couch. It was heaped with ears of wheat, some woven into wreaths, and ears of barley. There were sickles, and all the other harvest implements, but scattered about in total disorder, as if left there by the harvesters escaping the summer sun. Psyche sorted them all into separate piles, thinking she should not neglect the temples or rituals of any deity, but rather appeal to the kindness and mercy of them all.<\/p>\n 58\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It was bountiful Ceres who found her, carefully and diligently caring for her shrine, and called to her from afar: \u201cPsyche, poor girl, what\u2019s this? Venus, her heart afire, is searching intently for you. She wants to punish you severely, demanding vengeance with all her divine power. Yet here you are looking after my affairs. How can you think of anything but your own safety?\u201d<\/p>\n 59\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche drenched the goddess\u2019 feet with a flood of tears, and swept the temple floor with her hair, as she prostrated herself on the ground, uttering countless prayers, seeking to win the deity\u2019s favour: \u201cI beseech you by the fruitful power of your right hand, by the joy-filled ceremony of the harvest, by the unspoken mystery of the sacred basket, by the winged flight of your dragon-servants, by the furrowed Sicilian fields and Pluto\u2019s chariot and the swallowing earth, by Proserpine\u2019s descent to a gloomy wedding, the torch-lit discovery of that same daughter of yours\u2019 and her return, and by all the other secrets which your sanctuary in Attica, Eleusis, cloaks in silence, oh, save the life of wretched Psyche, your suppliant. Let me hide for a few days here at least among your store of grain, till the great goddess\u2019s raging anger abates with the passage of time, or until my strength, exhausted by my long journey, is restored by a chance to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n 60\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ceres answered: \u201cYour tears and prayers move me more than I can say, and I long to help you, but Venus is not simply my niece, we share ancient ties of friendship, and besides she\u2019s so good-hearted, I can\u2019t afford to offend her. I fear you must leave the shrine at once, and count yourself fortunate not to be held here as my captive.\u201d<\/p>\n 61\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Driven away despite her hopes, doubly afflicted with sorrow, Psyche retraced her steps. In the valley below, at the centre of a dimly-lit grove, she caught sight of another beautifully-fashioned temple. Not wishing to miss any path, however uncertain, that might lead to better expectations, and happy to seek help from any deity, she approached the sacred doors. There she saw rich offerings, gold embroidered ribbons, attached to the branches and the doorposts, whose lettering spelled the name of the goddess to whom they were dedicated, with thanks for her aid. So Psyche knelt and clasped the altar, still warm from sacrifice, in her arms, then dried her tears and prayed:<\/p>\n \u201cSister and consort of mighty Jove, whether you reside in the ancient sanctuary of Samos, which was granted the sole glory of your birth and infant tears and nurturing; or whether you frequent the lofty site of blessed Carthage, where they worship you as a Virgin riding the Lion through the sky; or whether you are defending Argos\u2019 famous walls beside the banks of Inachus, where they call you the Thunderer\u2019s bride, queen of the gods; you whom the East adores as Zygia goddess of marriage, and the West as Lucina goddess of childbirth: be Juno the Protectress to me in my dire misfortune. I am so weary from my great troubles. Free me from the dangers that threaten, for I know you come willingly to the help of pregnant girls in peril.\u201d<\/p>\n 62\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As she bowed in supplication, Juno appeared in all the glorious majesty of her divinity. \u201cHow I wish,\u201d she cried, at once, \u201cI could match my will to your prayer. But it would bring me shame to go against the wishes of Venus, Vulcan\u2019s wife and my daughter-in-law, whom I\u2019ve always loved as if she were my own. And then the law prevents me harbouring another\u2019s fugitive servant without their consent.\u201d<\/p>\n 63\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Terrified at this second shipwreck of her hopes, unable to find her winged husband, Psyche abandoned all thought of salvation, and took counsel of her thoughts:<\/p>\n \u201cWhat else can I try, what other aid can ease my tribulations, since the goddesses despite their favourable views cannot help me? Where else can I turn caught in such a web? What roof can conceal me, what darkness can hide me from the all-penetrating eyes of powerful Venus? Why not pluck up courage, as a man would, and abandon idle hope? Go to your mistress willingly, though late, and by yielding to her furious pursuit mollify her. Besides, who knows that you may not find the one you\u2019ve long searched for, there, in his mother\u2019s house?\u201d So, ready to risk the unknown consequences of surrender, even destruction itself, she pondered how she should commence her imminent appeal.<\/p>\n 64\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Meanwhile Venus, abandoning all attempts to find her on earth, sought the heavens. She ordered her chariot readied, that Vulcan the goldsmith had carefully wrought with subtle skill, offering it to her as a gift before they entered into marriage. It was noted for its filigree work and more valuable for the very gold removed by the refining file! Four white doves, with glad demeanour, emerged from the dovecote surrounding her chamber, offered their snowy necks to the jewelled harness, then lifted the burden of their mistress and happily took flight. Sparrows rose in the chariot\u2019s wake, chirping madly at its approach; and all the birds, that sing so sweetly, great Venus\u2019s retinue filled with song and unafraid of rapacious eagles or circling hawks along the way, echoed their delight with honeyed melodies. Thus the clouds parted, the Heavens opened to welcome their daughter, and the highest ether received the goddess with joy.<\/p>\n 65\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0She went straight to Jove\u2019s royal citadel, and urgently demanded to borrow the services of Mercury, the messenger god. Nor was Jupiter\u2019s celestial assent denied her. In triumph she descended from the sky, with Mercury too in her wake, and gave him careful instructions:<\/p>\n \u201cArcadian, you know your sister Venus has never accomplished a thing without your presence, and no doubt you\u2019re aware I\u2019m trying in vain to find a runaway servant. So nothing remains but for you to publicly proclaim a reward for whoever finds her. Go carry out my order at once, and describe her features clearly, so that no one charged with wrongfully hiding her can claim ignorance as a defence.\u201d With that she handed him the details, Psyche\u2019s name and the rest, and promptly left for home.<\/p>\n 66\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Mercury rushed to comply, running here and there from person to person, fulfilling his task with this proclamation: \u201cIf any man knows the whereabouts of, or can arrest in flight, the runaway servant of Venus, the princess named Psyche, he should meet with Mercury, author of this announcement, by the shrine of Venus Murcia in the Circus Maximus. The reward offered is seven sweet kisses from Venus herself, and one more deeply honeyed touch of her caressing tongue.\u201d<\/p>\n 67\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0After his proclamation, the desire for so fine a reward roused the competitive instinct in every mortal man, and more than anything it put an end to Psyche\u2019s previous hesitation. Familiarity, a servant of Venus, ran at her as she approached her mistress\u2019 door, and began shouting at the top of her voice: \u201cSo, you worthless girl, you\u2019ve at last remembered you have a mistress! Just like your thoughtless behaviour to pretend ignorance of all the trouble we\u2019ve endured, searching for you. But now you\u2019ve fallen into my hands and a good thing too, now you\u2019re in Death\u2019s claws indeed, and you\u2019ll pay the price for this endless defiance.\u201d<\/p>\n 68\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0With that she seized her tight by the hair and dragged her inside. The unresisting Psyche was thrust into Venus\u2019 presence. The goddess burst into savage laughter as women do when deeply enraged, beating her round the head and dragging her about by the ear, crying: \u201cSo you deign to call on your mother-in-law at last, do you? Or are you here to visit that husband of yours, laid low by your own hand? Don\u2019t you worry, I\u2019ll entertain you as a fine daughter-in-law deserves. Where are those attendants of mine, Anxiety and Sorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n 69\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0When they entered she handed the girl over to them for punishment. At the goddess\u2019s command they flogged poor Psyche and tortured her in other ways, then returned her to their mistress\u2019s sight. Then Venus screeched with laughter again: \u201cLook at her,\u201d she cried, \u201ctrying to stir my pity with that offering, that swollen belly of hers! No doubt she thinks its illustrious origin might gladden its grandmother\u2019s heart. Indeed what joy, in the very flower of my youth, to be known as a grandmother, with the offspring of a lowly servant as Venus\u2019 own grandson! But how foolish of me to call it such: since this \u2018marriage\u2019 of mortal and god took place in some country villa, with nary a witness, without the father\u2019s consent. It was not done within the law, and your child too will be illegitimate, if indeed I allow the birth at all.\u201d<\/p>\n 70\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Having launched this tirade, Venus flew at her, beat her about the head severely, tore her hair, and ripped her clothes to pieces. Then the goddess called for wheat, millet and barley, poppy-seeds, chickpeas, lentils and beans, and mixed the heaps all together in one pile. Then she returned to Psyche: \u201cYou look such a hideous creature you\u2019ll only attract a lover by hard work. So I\u2019ll test out your industriousness myself. Sort that pile into separate kinds, each in its own heap, finish it all by this evening, and show it me for approval.\u201d With that Venus took herself off to a marriage feast.<\/p>\n 71\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche sat there dumbfounded, gazing silently at that confused and inextricable mountain of a task, dismayed by its sheer enormity. But a passing ant, a little ant of the fields, pitied the great god\u2019s bride, and seeing the intractable nature of the problem, condemned the goddess\u2019s cruelty. Running this way and that, it summoned and gathered together a whole squadron of local ants, crying: \u201cNimble creatures of Earth, the Mother of all, take pity on this pretty girl in trouble, run swiftly now to the aid of the wife of Love himself!\u201d\u00a0 Wave after wave of the six-footed folk appeared, and with tireless industry took the heap apart piece by piece, and sorted it into differing piles each of a separate nature, then quickly vanished from sight.<\/p>\n 72\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Venus returned from the wedding festivities that evening, smelling of balsam and soaked with wine, her whole body garlanded in gleaming roses. When she saw how perfectly the difficult task had been performed, she cried: \u201cThis is not your doing, you wretch, but the work of that boy who fell in love with you to your misfortune and his.\u201d Then she threw Psyche a lump of bread for her supper, and went to her bed.<\/p>\n 73\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Cupid was still under close custody, locked in a room deep in the house, partly for fear his injury would be worsened by wanton self-indulgence, partly to keep him from meeting his sweetheart. So, under one roof but separated, the lovers spent a wretched night.<\/p>\n 74\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But as soon as Dawn\u2019s chariot mounted the sky, Venus summoned Psyche and gave her a fresh task: \u201cDo you see the wood which borders all that bank of the flowing river, where dense thickets overlook the source nearby? Sheep, with fleece that glistens with purest gold, wander there and graze unguarded. Obtain a hank of that precious wool, in any manner you please, and bring it to me straight away, such is my decree.\u201d<\/p>\n 75\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche left willingly, not to fulfil the goddess\u2019 demand, but to escape from her troubles by throwing herself from a cliff into the river. But a green reed, that piper of sweet music, stirred by the touch of a gentle breeze, was divinely inspired to prophesy thus:<\/p>\n \u201cPoor Psyche, though you\u2019re assailed by a host of sorrows, don\u2019t pollute these sacred waters with a pitiful act of suicide. Conceal yourself carefully behind this tall plane-tree that bathes in the same current as I do. Don\u2019t go near those dreadful sheep right now, as they soak up heat from the burning sun and burst out in wild fits of madness, venting their fury on passers-by with those sharp horns set in stony foreheads and their venomous bite, but wait till the sun\u2019s heat fades in late afternoon, when the flock settles to rest under the calming influence of the river breeze. Then while their savagery is assuaged and their temper eased, just explore the trees in the wood nearby, and you\u2019ll find the golden wool clinging here and there to the bent branches.\u201d<\/p>\n 76\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Thus a simple reed, in its kindness, taught Psyche in distress how to save herself. She never faltered, nor had reason to regret obeying the advice so carefully given, but accepted her instructions, and easily filled the folds of her dress with soft gleaming gold, carrying her spoils to Venus. Yet her success at this second dangerous task garnered no favour in her mistress\u2019 eyes. Venus frowned and said with a cruel smile: \u201cI know the true author of this achievement only too well. But now a serious test will prove if you\u2019ve real courage and true intelligence. Do you see that steep mountain peak, rising above those towering cliffs? Dark waters flow from a black fount there, down to the nearby valley\u2019s confined depths, and they feed the swamps of Styx, and the bitter stream of Cocytus. Draw me some of the freezing liquid from the bubbling heart of that spring, and bring it me quickly in this little phial.\u201d With that, she gave her a crystal jar, and added a few harsh threats for good measure.<\/p>\n 77\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Psyche, determined now, if she failed, to end her wretched life at last, clambered swiftly and steadfastly towards the mountain summit. But when she neared the ridge that was her goal, she saw the vast difficulty of her deadly task. A high and immense rock wall, jagged, precarious, and inaccessible, emitted dread streams from jaws of stone, flowing downwards from their precipitous source through a narrow funnel they had carved, and sliding unseen down to the gorge below. On either side fierce serpents slithered from holes in the cliffs, extending their heads, eyes given to unblinking vigil, their pupils on watch at every moment. Even the waters were alive and on guard, crying out: \u201cOff with you! Where are you going? See here! What are you doing? Beware! Be gone! You\u2019ll die!\u201d As if changed to stone though present in body, the helpless Psyche took leave of her senses, and overwhelmed by the threat of inescapable disaster lacked even the last solace of tears.<\/p>\n 78\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But the sharp eyes of kindly Providence saw an innocent soul in trouble. Mighty Jupiter\u2019s royal eagle, wings outstretched, was there to aid her: the raptor recalled that time long ago when at Cupid\u2019s command he had served to carry Ganymede, the Phrygian cup-bearer, through the heavens to Jove. Now he brought timely assistance, honouring Cupid\u2019s claim on him. Seeing the ordeal the god\u2019s wife was enduring, he left the bright roads of high heaven, and circling above her called: \u201cSimple and innocent as you are, do you really expect even to touch, never mind steal, a single drop from that most sacred and cruel of founts? Jupiter himself, and all the gods, fear these Stygian waters. Surely you know that, just as you swear by the power of the gods, so the gods in turn swear by the power of Styx . Now, pass me that phial!\u201d<\/p>\n 79\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He snatched it from her hand, and swept off to fill it from the stream. Balanced on his great sweeping wings he flew beyond the serpents\u2019 reach, those savage jaws, those incisors, those triply-grooved flickering tongues, swerving to right and left. The water rose and threatened to harm him if he did not desist, but he gathered them, claiming he sought them at Venus\u2019 orders, acting on her behalf, and was granted easier access on that account.<\/p>\n 80\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So Psyche regained the little jar, now full, and quickly brought it to Venus. But still the cruel goddess\u2019s will was not appeased. Menacing her with greater, more terrible threats, Venus glared at her balefully: \u201cNow I see how readily you\u2019ve performed those impossible tasks of mine, I\u2019m certain you must be some kind of high and mighty witch. But there\u2019s one more little service you must perform, my dear. Take the jar and plunge from the light of day to the underworld, to the dismal abode of Pluto himself. Hand the jar to Proserpine and say: \u2018Venus asks that you send her a little of your beauty, enough for one brief day. She has used and exhausted all she had while caring for her son who\u2019s ill.\u2019 And don\u2019t be slow to return, since I need to apply it before I attend a gathering of deities.\u201d<\/p>\n 81\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now Psyche felt that this was indeed the end of everything: the veil had been drawn aside, and she saw she was being driven openly to imminent destruction, forced, was it not obvious, to go willingly on her own two feet to Tartarus and the shades. Instantly she climbed to the summit of the highest tower, intending to throw herself from it, as the swiftest and cleanest route to the underworld. But the turret suddenly burst into speech: \u201cUnhappy girl, why seek to destroy yourself in this way? Why rashly surrender everything before this the last of your tasks? Once your breath is gone from your body, you\u2019ll sink to the depths of Tartarus indeed, but from there you\u2019ll not return. Listen to me. Not far from here is the famous city of Achaean Sparta. Seek Cape Taenarus there, in the region, it\u2019s remote, that borders on Lacedaemon. There is a breathing-hole of Dis, and through its gaping portal they\u2019ll show you a rough-made path. Once across the threshold take that road and you\u2019ll reach Pluto\u2019s palace by the shortest way. But don\u2019t go into the shadows without bearing in each hand a barley-cake soaked in honeyed wine, and hold two coins in your mouth. When you\u2019ve completed a good part of your gloomy journey, you\u2019ll meet with a lame ass carrying wood, and an equally lame driver, who\u2019ll ask you to hand him some sticks that have fallen from his load. But don\u2019t utter a single word, and pass them by in silence. Not long afterwards you\u2019ll reach the river of the dead, where Charon the ferryman demands an instant toll, then carries the shades to the further bank in his patched-up skiff. Thus we see that avarice lives even amongst the dead, and Charon, the tax collector for Pluto, that great deity, does nothing without a fee. A pauper who\u2019s dying must find the passage-money, and unless there\u2019s a coin to hand, no one will allow him to expire. Let that squalid old man have one of the coins you bear, but make sure he takes it out of your mouth with his very own hand. And when you\u2019re crossing that slow-moving stream an aged corpse afloat on the surface will raise its rotting hands and beg you to lift him into the boat: but don\u2019t be swayed by mistaken pity. One you are across the river, and have gone a little further, some old women weaving, at the loom, will ask you to lend a hand for a while, but you must not help them either. All these and more are traps laid for you by Venus, to make you let go of one of those barley-cakes. And don\u2019t think losing a barley-cake is of little consequence, if you lose either cake you\u2019ll not see daylight again. For you\u2019ll arrive at the monstrous dog, with triple heads of enormous size, a huge and fearsome creature with thunderous jaws, who barks enough to frighten the dead but in vain; he can do them no harm. He keeps constant guard at the threshold of Proserpine\u2019s dark halls, defending the insubstantial palace of Dis. One barley-cake thrown as a sop will hold him, and you can get by easily, and enter Proserpine\u2019s presence. She\u2019ll receive you courteously and benignly, and try to tempt you to sit down by her in comfort, and eat a sumptuous meal. But you must squat on the ground, demand common bread and eat that. Then tell her why you are there, take what is set before you, and make your way back, bribing the savage dog with that second barley-cake. Give the avaricious ferryman the coin you kept in reserve, cross the river, retrace your steps, and you\u2019ll return to the heavenly choir of stars. But above all else, I warn you, be careful, whatever you do, not to open and not to look in the jar you\u2019ve tied to your waist, and don\u2019t let your curiosity loose by thinking too much about that hidden treasure, divine beauty.\u201d<\/p>\n 82\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Thus the far-seeing tower performed its prophetic service. Psyche reached Taenarus without delay and, with both coins and cakes, hastened down the path to the underworld. She passed the lame ass-driver in silence, gave up her toll to the ferryman, ignored the cries of the floating corpse, spurned the cunning requests of the weaver-women, fed the dog a cake to assuage his fearful madness, and entered the palace of Proserpine. She accepted neither the pleasant seat nor the luxurious meal her hostess offered, but sat on the ground at her feet, and contenting herself with a simple crust, achieved what Venus had asked. In secret, the jar was quickly filled and sealed, and Psyche gathered it up again. She silenced the barking dog with the ruse of that second cake, paid her last coin to the ferryman, and ran even more swiftly back from the underworld. But despite her haste to be done with her terms of service, once she\u2019d returned to the brightness of day, and greeted it with reverence, her mind was overcome by a most unwise curiosity. \u201cBehold,\u201d she said to herself, \u201cI\u2019m foolish to be the bearer of such divine beauty, and not take a tiny drop of it for myself. It might even help me please my beautiful lover.\u201d<\/p>\n 83\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And with those words she unsealed the jar; but there was never a drop of beauty there, nothing but deathly, truly Stygian sleep. When the cover was lifted slumber attacked her instantly, enveloping her entire body in a dense cloud of somnolence. She collapsed where she stood, fell on the path, and deep slumber overcame her. She lay there motionless, like a corpse but fast asleep.<\/p>\n 84\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Cupid, feeling better now that his scar had healed, could no longer endure the absence of his beloved Psyche and dropped from the high window of the room where he\u2019d been confined. With wings restored by his long rest, he flew all the more swiftly, and swooping to Psyche\u2019s side he wiped away the sleep with care and returned it to the jar where it belonged. Then he roused her with a harmless touch of his arrow, saying: \u201cLook how you\u2019ve nearly ruined yourself again, poor child, with that insatiable curiosity of yours. Now be quick and finish the task my mother assigned. I\u2019ll take care of everything else.\u201d With this he took lightly to his wings, while Psyche, for her part, swiftly carried Proserpine\u2019s gift to Venus.<\/p>\n 85\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now Cupid, pale of face, devoured by uncontrollable love, was so concerned by his mother\u2019s sudden harshness he returned to his old tricks, quickly flying to heaven\u2019s heights on his swift wings, kneeling before great Jove, and attempting to win support for his cause. Jupiter tweaked Cupid\u2019s cheek, raised the lad\u2019s hand to his lips, kissed it and replied. \u201cMy dear son, despite the fact you\u2019ve never shown the slightest respect granted me by all other deities, but wounded my heart again and again, and shamed me with endless bouts of earthly passion, I, who command the elements, I, who ordain the course of the stars; and despite the fact you defy the law, even the\u00a0Lex Julia<\/i>\u00a0itself, and the rules that maintain public order; that you\u2019ve injured my good name, and destroyed my reputation through scandalous adulteries, transforming my tranquil features vilely into snakes and flames, and birds and beasts, and even cattle; nevertheless, because of my sweet disposition, and the fact that you were cradled in my own arms, I\u2019ll do as you ask. But only on one condition: that you beware of making me your rival by giving me, in payment for this favour, some other girl of outstanding beauty.\u201d<\/p>\n 86\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So saying, he ordered Mercury to call an impromptu gathering of the gods, with a fine of a hundred pieces of gold for failing to attend the heavenly assembly, which threat guaranteed the celestial theatre was filled. Almighty Jupiter, from his high throne, gave the following address:<\/p>\n \u201cO deities, inscribed in the roll-call of the Muses, you all know it to be true that I raised this lad with my own hands. I\u2019ve decided the impulses of his hot youth need curbing in some manner. We must take away the opportunity; restrain his childish indulgence with the bonds of matrimony. He\u2019s found a girl, he\u2019s taken her virginity. Let him have her, hold her, and in Psyche\u2019s arms indulge his passions forever.\u201d<\/p>\n 87\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then he turned to Venus saying: \u201cNow my daughter, don\u2019t be despondent. Don\u2019t fear for your lineage or status, because of his wedding a mortal. I\u2019ll make it a marriage of equals, legitimate, in accord with civil law.\u201d And he ordered Mercury to bring Psyche to heaven at once. Once there he handed her a cup of ambrosia, saying: \u201cDrink this Psyche, and be immortal. Cupid will never renege on the bond, and the marriage will last forever.\u201d<\/p>\n 88\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Presently a rich wedding feast appeared. The bridegroom reclined at the head, clasping Psyche in his arms. Jupiter and Juno sat beside them, and all the deities in order. Ganymede, the cup-bearing shepherd lad, served Jupiter his nectar, that wine of the gods, and Bacchus-Liber served all the rest, while Vulcan cooked the meal. Now the Hours adorned everyone with roses and hosts of other flowers; the Graces scattered balsam; the choir of the Muses sounded; Apollo sang to the lyre, and Venus danced charmingly to that outpouring of sweet music, arranging the scene so the Muses chimed together, with a Satyr fluting away, and a woodland creature of Pan\u2019s piping his reeds.<\/p>\n 89\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So Psyche was given in marriage to Cupid according to the rite, and when her term was due a daughter was born to them both, whom we call Pleasure.\u2019<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Introduction: Our primary source reading for this week is from The Golden Ass\u00a0(also called\u00a0The Metamorphoses), a novel written in Latin in the 2nd century CE by Apuleius. You will learn more about the context of the whole novel in my lecture, but for now, enjoy this folktale embedded within the larger story. As you read, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":72230,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-39","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/grmyth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/39","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/grmyth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/grmyth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/grmyth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/72230"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/grmyth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=39"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/grmyth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/39\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":136,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/grmyth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/39\/revisions\/136"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/grmyth\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=39"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}Apuleius,\u00a0Metamorphoses IV-VI:\u00a0<\/em>The Tale of Cupid and Psyche <\/strong>Translation by A.S. Kline<\/h2>\n
Paragraph numbers inserted by Susanna Braund<\/h2>\n
Book IV :32 -33 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the oracle<\/h3>\n
Book V:1-3 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the palace<\/h3>\n
Book V:4-6 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the mysterious husband<\/h3>\n
Book V:7-10 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the wicked sisters<\/h3>\n
Book V:11-13 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: Cupid\u2019s warning<\/h3>\n
Book V:22-24 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: revelation<\/h3>\n
Book V:25-27 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the sisters\u2019 fate<\/h3>\n
Book V:28-31 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: Venus is angered<\/h3>\n
Book VI:1-4 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: Ceres and Juno<\/h3>\n
Book VI:5-8 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: brought to account<\/h3>\n
Book VI:9-10 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the first task<\/h3>\n
Book VI:11-13 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the second task<\/h3>\n
Book VI:14-15 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the third task<\/h3>\n
Book VI:16-20 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the underworld<\/h3>\n
Book VI:21-22 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the jar of sleep<\/h3>\n
Book VI:23-24 The tale of Cupid and Psyche: the marriage<\/h3>\n