🦋 Cupid & Psyche Story III

Publicado por Ana Dominguez Ruiz

🦋 Cupid & Psyche Story III

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Photo: Original group sculpture in the royal gardens of La Granja, in Segovia, SPAIN. Photo by Ana Domínguez Ruiz.

PART III PENANCE AND PARDON Psyche’s first thought, as she turned away from the scene of her lost happiness, was to die in despair. Coming to a river bank, she threw herself into its black water; but the pitiful stream washed her ashore on the further side, and she wandered on, hardly knowing where she went. Psyche went her way alone through the world, everywhere seeking in vain for her vanished love. He, fevered by the pain of his burnt shoulder, or rather by the same grief as gave Psyche no rest by night and day, had taken refuge in his mother’s chamber, and lay sick of a wound he durst not own.

But a telltale bird whispered in Aphrodite’s ear how Cupid had deigned to love a mortal, and hot was her anger to learn this was no other than the very maid boasted on earth as her rival. In sore dudgeon the resentful goddess tender her son with rating and upbraiding. She threatened to take away his arrows, to unstring his bow, to quench his torch and to clip his wings, that he might no more fly about playing mischievous pranks on gods and men.

And though she could not bring herself to punish him as he deserved, all the more eagerly she sought out Psyche for her vengeance.

By leave of Zeus, she sent down Hermes to proclaim through the world that whoever sheltered Psyche should be punished as an enemy to the gods, but seven kisses from Aphrodite herself were offered as reward to whoever gave her up. This proclamation reached poor Psyche’s own ears, when, tired of the bootless search for her husband, she was ready to throw herself on his mother’s mercy. As a humble suppliant she approached the halls of Aphrodite, where she had no sooner told her name than one of the servants dragged her by the hair into her mistress’s presence.
Aphrodite’s direct speech: “ At last!” the jealous goddess greeted her with mocking laughter. “At last, thou come to greet thy mother-in-law! Or is it to visit that husband of thine, that lies sick through thy hurting? I have had trouble enough to catch thee; but now thou shalt not go without learning what it is to rival Aphrodite.” Tearing her clothes for rage, she gave over Psyche to be scourged by sore tormentors who stood ready to obey her will. All day, the offended goddess cast about for means of wreaking her spite against the unwelcome daughter-in-law. [Aphrodite then orders Psyche to sort a mixed heap of wheat, barley, millet and other seeds; gather a handful of wool from the backs of wild golden-fleeced sheep; and fill an urn with water from the Stygian springs. Psyche accomplishes these apparently impossible tasks, though not without the aid of ants, who help her heap the seeds, nymph who counsels her to approach the sheep when they sleep, and the eagle of Zeus, who fills the urn for her. Aphrodite is astonished.]

Aphrodite’s direct speech: “Art thou, then, a witch, or wicked enchantress, so lightly to finish such perilous tasks?” said Aphrodite mockingly. “But thou shalt be tried still further, my darling, and learn what it is to have the goddess of love for a foe!” she said with irony. Too tearful were it to tell of all her spite made the hated daughter-in-law and suffer. But those trials had an end when Cupid got to hear of his mother’s cruelty, that made him love Psyche all the more. Escaping secretly from his sick-chamber, he flew up to Olympus, and besought Zeus to favour his wedding with a daughter of men.

“Art thou one to ask indulgence at my hands!” quoth that father of the gods, stroking the lad’s smooth face. “On which of us, pray, hast thou not played those tricks of thine? I myself have been turned into a bull, a swan, or whatnot, through thy frolicsome roguery. But we cherish thee kindly as the spoilt child of Olympus, for all thy faults; and if I grant thy prayer, be mindful of the grace thou has ill deserved.” Forthwith Zeus sent out Hermes to summon a meeting of the gods, to which Aphrodite must come among the rest on pain of high displeasure; and Psyche, too, was brought in with downcast eyes that lit up at the sight of her lost lover among the radiant band. When all were assembled, the father of heaven thus addressed them:

“Gods and goddesses, ye all know this tricksy boy, who has grown up among us, and whose wild his wanton restlessness fettered in chains of marriage. He has chosen a bride among the daughters of men, to whom he has plighted his troth for weal or woe. What is done, is done; and so be it! Thou, mother of love,” -he turned to Aphrodite-, “do not grudge this alliance with a mortal. To make her the equal of her spouse, I raise her among the gods:

henceforth let none despise a child of heaven; and thou, Psyche, take from me the gift of immortality in reward of thy faithful love for Cupid.”

With this he held a goblet of nectar to her trembling lips. Psyche drank the wine of the gods; but the charm of deathlessness that ran through her veins was not such a strong cordial as to find Cupid’s arms union; for even Aphrodite ceased to frown when she saw her son’s pouting face now bright with smiles, not could she scorn a daughter-in-law welcome to Olympus.

So now their wedding feast was held in the home of the gods. Hephaestus cooked the dishes; Dionysus and Ganymede filled the wine cups. The Season wreathed the guests with blooming flowers; the Graces scattered perfumed;

The muses sang sweetly to Apollo's lyre; and who but proud Aphrodite herself led the dance! After all their troubles, Cupid and Psyche were made happy; and their first child was a daughter named Joy. Nor was this last of the immortals least among them in the eyes of generations to come, and in the honour of poets for her that had no priest.