馃徆Cupid & Psyche Story I
Picture: Original Painting: Cupid and Psyche 1798 by Fran莽ois Pascal Simon G茅rard, French painter, aquarellist and illustrator. Louvre Museum in room 53. PARIS.
PART I
APHRODITE's RIVAL
Once upon a time a king and queen had three fair daughters, of whom the two eldest came to wed princely suitors. But the youngest, Psyche, was so wondrously beautiful that no one durst woo her, who seemed worthy rather of adoration. Men gazed at her from afar as at a goddess, and the rumour went that this was no mortal maiden, but Aphrodite herself, revealed on earth to show her matchless charms in flesh and blood.
So eager was all the world to behold this prodigy, that far and wide the altars of the true goddess stood cold and silent, her chief shrines at Cnidus, Paphos and Cythera deserted by the crowds flocking to strew flowers under the feet of Psyche. The jealous Aphrodite, seeing herself neglected for such a rival, called on her son to avenge her with his mischievous arrows.
“Inflame her heart with love, but with the hottest love for the meanest wretch alive, so that together they may come to poverty and sorrow!”
Ever too ready to play his cruel tricks, young Cupid promised to do his mother's bidding, and flew off to work harm for Psyche. But at the first sight of her beauty he was so amazed that he dropped on his foot the shaft he had made ready for her, and so became wounded by the enchantment of his own weapon. Himself unseen, he loved this mortal as hotly as he thought to make her love some unworthy man.
Meanwhile it grieved Psyche's parents that so many came to wonder at but none to wed their youngest daughter. The anxious father sought an oracle of Apollo to know how she should find a husband; and the answer filled him with dread. On the top of a high rocky mountain, he was told, he must leave his daughter alone in bridal array. There should she be wooed by one of whom the very gods stood in fear: she whom men likened to Aphrodite was worthy of no common mate.
Hard was it to part with their daughter thus; but her parents durst not disobey the oracle. At nightfall they led her up the mountain, with a wedding train that seemed rather a funeral, for the light of the torches burned dim, and the songs of the bridesmaids turned to dirges, and poor Psyche was fain to dry her tears with her bridal veil. But having resigned herself to this strange fate as the will of the gods, she strove to comfort her weeping friends. The top of the mountain reached, they quenched the torches, and with tearful farewells left the maiden alone at dead of night as it borne here to her tomb.
When all were gone, Psyche stood shuddering in the chill darkness, full of fear. But soon came a gentle Zephyr that softly wrapped her about and carried her away to lay her on a bed of scented flowers.
Daylight awoke her to look round in wonder. Close at hand, she saw a grove of tall trees, through which flowed a crystal stream, and on its banks stood a house so novel that it appeared the home of a god. The roof of costly woods was burned up by golden and ivory pillars; the floor was paved with coloured marbles, and the walls glowed with pictures inlaid in gems and precious metals. When Psyche ventured to enter, she found vast inner halls more and more splendid the farther she stole on tiptoe, filled with treasures from every part of the earth, and everywhere lit by a gleam of gold shining like the sun. And what seemed most marvellous, all these riches were unguarded, every door stood open, and no living form came to view, as she passed from chamber to chamber, lost in astonishment at the wealth of their unknown lord.
“Who can it be that owns so many rich and beautiful things!”she cried out at length; and soft voices answered in her ear, though as yet she saw no human form.
“All are thine, Psyche! And we are thy servants, appointed to wait on thee. Command us thou wilt, and it shall be done.”
When she was tired of wandering through the palace, and feasting her eyes on its beauty, Psyche took courage to try what such invisible attendants could do for her. Having refreshed herself by bathing in a bath of silver, she took her place at a golden table that was at once spread with the finest fare; then as she ate and drank, soft music arose and a choir of sweet voices filled the room where she sat alone.
So the day passed by as in a dream; and when night fell, she would have lain down on a soft couch spread for her by those unseen hands. Now was she aware of a shadow by her side, and had almost cried out for terror. But her fears were kissed away as she found herself warmly embraced in the darkness, and heard a voice murmuring to her in the kindest tones.
“Dear Psyche, I am the husband chosen for thee destiny. Ask not my name, seek not to see my face; only believe in my love, and all will be well with us!”
The very sound of his voice and the very touch of his hand won Psyche's heart to this unseen bridegroom. All night he told her of his love, and before daylight dawned, he was gone, since so it must be, promising with a kiss to return as soon as darkness fell.
Thus it was, night after night, that went by in tender speeches and endearments; yet never could she see her lover’s face.
……………
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