XXXII. EROS AND PSYCHE.

There lived once a king and queen who had three daughters. The youngest of them was named Psyche, and she was so wonderfully beautiful that when she went through the streets, the people threw flowers before her and kissed their hands to her, as they used to do to the statues of the gods. The only one who did not delight in her was the goddess Aphrodite. She was accustomed to drive through the city in a chariot drawn by doves, and every time she did so it vexed her afresh to see that the townspeople neglected her worship in order to pay homage to the lovely Psyche, as if it were she and not Aphrodite who was the goddess of beauty. And she called her son Eros, who was the god of love, and commanded him to cause the princess whom she hated to set her love upon the most unworthy of all mortals.

Not long afterwards the old king asked the Oracle to whom he should give his daughter Psyche in marriage, and the answer he received was that she must be dressed as a bride and led to the top of a rocky cliff that stood up high above the city, and that then all her friends must say good-bye to her for ever, and leave her there alone to be taken to the house of the husband appointed for her. And that if he refused to obey the Oracle, grievous misfortune would befall him and all his household. The king and queen were greatly distressed at this sentence, and the whole land mourned with them, for why should the Oracle speak so mysteriously if it did not mean that the appointed husband was some horrible monster? But they were obliged to obey, lest some worse misfortune should overtake them. Psyche was dressed as a bride and led to the rock, in a procession of the citizens. The flutes and other musical instruments gave forth joyous sounds; but louder still was heard the sound of mourning and lamentation. The grey-haired father and mother wept bitterly as they kissed their child for the last time, and then the wedding torches were put out, and the procession wound sadly and silently back to the city.

Psyche meanwhile was left alone upon the desolate rock; but very soon a Wind-god came, who seized her in his arms and flew through the air with her, till at last he put her down in a valley on the further side of the hill. Psyche hid her face in her hands at first that she might not see the horrible things she expected to find all round her; but when she did venture timidly to open her eyes, she could scarcely believe what she saw. She found herself seated in a meadow full of flowers, with a clear stream running through it, and a wood near by, in front of which there stood a most beautiful palace; its roof was supported by pillars of pure gold, and its walls were covered with sculptures wrought in silver. Full of astonishment, Psyche rose and went towards the palace. As she approached it, she noticed that the air was filled with a delicious scent, and when she entered the palace, she met with some new splendour at every step. The rooms were furnished with great magnificence, and were filled with beautiful ornaments of gold and silver. Then there fell upon her ear the sweet voice of a nymph, which said, 'We are at your service, and prepared to carry out your wishes, whatever they may be.' Psyche thought she would like to refresh herself with some cool water, and in a moment a beautiful bath was drawn forward by unseen hands and placed before her. After she had bathed and anointed herself, she went into the next room where she found a table spread with a tempting meal, and all the while she was eating, sounds of sweet music were heard and songs were sung by unseen nymphs. When Psyche had finished, she felt in need of rest, and she lay down on a couch and went to sleep. Meanwhile it became quite dark, and by-and-by she was awakened by a gentle movement, and a sweet voice said to her, 'I am thy husband, and this house is thine and mine,—all its splendours are for thy pleasure,—but never seek to see my face, for then I should be obliged to leave thee for ever.' The husband remained with her until the day was about to dawn, and then he vanished.

The next day, and each following day, everything happened as before: the unseen nymphs waited on Psyche and shortened the hours by singing and playing to her, and with the darkness came the husband who remained in the palace until morning.

The heart of Psyche was divided between joy and sorrow. Her kind husband and the wonders and delights of the palace filled her with joy, but tears often came to her eyes in thinking of her parents and her play-fellows. Once when she was looking towards the high rock from which she had been brought by the Wind-god, she saw her two sisters there, and she was filled with so great a longing to see them again that when next her husband came to her, she begged him to send for them. For a moment he hesitated, but then he promised to do as she wished, and told her also that she might give them anything she liked out of the treasures of the palace to take away with them as presents; 'but,' he added, 'take care not to let them delude you into making any attempt to see my face.' Psyche promised without any misgiving, for she felt herself perfectly free from curiosity.

On the following day when the two sisters again appeared on the rock, the Wind-god took them up on his shoulders and carried them into the beautiful valley. Psyche received them with many embraces, and asked them endless questions about her parents and play-fellows. Then she led them into the palace and desired the music to sound, whilst she showed them all the beautiful things. They were dumb with amazement, and stood looking at one another; and then Psyche asked them to choose whatever they liked best to take away with them, for they were quite welcome to it. But the two sisters had wicked, envious dispositions, and were not pleased that Psyche should be so much better off than they were. They asked who was her husband, and when she told them that he was kind and good, but that she had never seen him and that she was forbidden ever to seek to do so, they made a sign one to the other, and one of them pretended to cry, and said, 'Ah, dear sister, it must then be true what the people say. They say that every evening a hideous monster is seen to creep into this valley,—a horrible serpent with bloody jaws.' And the other sister pretended to weep also, and she said, 'When he gets to the palace he takes the form of a man; but no doubt his countenance bears the traces of his cruel nature, and that is the reason why he will not let you look at him. Alas! only too soon shall we have to deplore your miserable death.'

Psyche was herself so entirely free from falseness that she had no suspicion of the treachery of her sisters. She was horror-struck at what they said, and though at first she refused to believe that the gentle voice she had so often heard could come from the jaws of a monster, yet they so persisted in tormenting her with their crafty speeches, that at last she ended by believing them, and was only anxious to escape from the dreadful creature. When the eldest sister saw this, she said to her, 'There is just one means of saving your life. You must summon up your courage, and to-night, when the monster is asleep, take your lamp in your hand and a sharp knife, and go to his couch and pierce him through the heart with the knife.' She said this because she thought that if Psyche disobeyed her husband by looking at him when he was asleep, all her happiness would be at an end. The two sisters gave Psyche no peace till she had made up her mind to do as they said. Then they took as many of the treasures of the palace as they could carry, and Psyche called to the Wind-god to come and take them away again.

When it was dark, her husband came as usual; but she was afraid of him, and could hardly find a word to say in answer to his friendly greeting. And at midnight, when he was fast asleep, she lit a lamp, and taking a knife in her hand, went to his couch with the intention of killing him. The light fell upon the couch, and there she saw,—no monster, but Eros himself, the winged god of love, radiant with beauty. The knife fell from her hand, and she felt that she could never be weary of gazing at his glorious form. But as she bent over him she forgot to take care that the lamp in her hand was held straight, and a drop of hot oil was spilt, which fell upon his shoulder and awoke him. He opened his eyes and saw Psyche bending over him with the lamp in her hand. He looked at her very sorrowfully, and said, 'Thou hast mistrusted me and transgressed my command; my dwelling is no longer here. I am Eros, as thou hast discovered. My mother Aphrodite is angry with thee, and she commanded me to cause thee to love the most unworthy of men. But when I saw thee, I was myself filled with love for thee, and determined to hide thee from my mother that thou mightest be my wife. Only in the deepest secrecy have I dared to act against her will. And now thou hast disobeyed my command, and I must leave thee for ever.' When he had said this, he took up his bow and quiver which stood by the side of the couch, and flew away.

Psyche was filled with the bitterest remorse, and desired to live no longer. When the day dawned, she went to the river and threw herself into it. But the river-god was unwilling to kill anything so beautiful, and he carried her on the top of his waters to the farther shore, and set her down there. The birds were chirping in the trees, and the morning sun looked down so pleasantly on the river and the meadows that a ray of hope sprang up in her heart, and she thought, 'How if I could succeed in winning him back? They say that he is the kindest of all the gods. I will go all over the world seeking him.' So she set out, and took no heed of the roughness of the way or of the thorns that pierced her feet, and wandered into all corners of the world, hoping to find some trace of him.

After she had wandered for a long time, she came to the palace of Aphrodite, and she said to herself, 'The goddess is indeed angry with me, but is her anger mightier than my grief? I will enter her service, and it may be that I shall succeed in gaining her good will.' So she went into the palace, and offered herself as servant to the goddess. Now Aphrodite knew that instead of doing Psyche any injury, Eros had secretly married her, for a sea-gull that had made its nest for a time in the valley had told her about it. She felt therefore a grim joy when the unhappy girl put herself into her power, and in a haughty tone she said to her, 'If your mind is set on being beloved by a god, you will have to accomplish hard tasks, and it will be the worse for you if you fail to perform them.' Then she set her the first task. She piled up in front of the palace a great heap of seeds,—wheat, beans, poppies, and peas,—all mixed together, and saying, 'Before night comes all the seeds must be sorted,' she went away. Psyche could not have done it in ten days. She sat down by the heap, buried her face in her hands, and wept bitterly. But there lived close by a great nation of ants, and one of them saw the beautiful girl crying, and was sorry for her, and called the others to come and help her. Then there came an endless array of ants, who set to work and soon sorted the seeds, though some of them were so large that it took four, eight, or even ten ants to roll a single seed to its place, and when Psyche looked up, the work was done and the ants were marching away again. She kissed her hands to them, and thanked them prettily for their kindness. When Aphrodite came home in the evening and saw the seeds laid out in order, she could find no fault with her industrious servant, but she gave her a look that was far from friendly, for she would much rather have had some excuse for blaming her.

The next morning she said to Psyche, 'There is a copse near by, where there graze some sheep with golden fleeces. Go and fetch me three tufts of their wool.' Psyche set out, and went slowly along the river-side towards the wood. On the bank stood some reeds which rustled in the morning breeze, and the rustling turned into words like these, 'Take care what you do, for the golden-fleeced sheep are fierce animals, and their bite is poisonous. Wait till mid-day, and then go into the copse and look at the bushes.' So said the reeds, and then they rustled again as before. Psyche thanked them, and sat down by the side of the river until the shadows were at their shortest. Then she knew it was mid-day, and she went into the copse and found the sheep all lying asleep. She trod gently so as not to wake them, and looked at the bushes which were covered with tufts of golden wool, for the sheep had rubbed themselves against the bushes and left part of their fleeces sticking to the thorns. Psyche took the three best tufts and left the copse. When she came back and gave them to her mistress, Aphrodite was surprised, for she had expected that Psyche would be bitten to death by the fierce sheep. She said to her with an angry look, 'You have not yet finished your day's work. Take your pitcher and ascend that hill. At the top of it there is some black water. Fetch me some.'

Psyche started off obediently with her pitcher. When she reached the hill, she saw before her a steep path leading up to the spring, but near it were two dreadful dragons who looked as if they would not let any one pass them alive. The water fell into a dark ravine by the side of the path, and flowed deep down into the Lower World. It bubbled angrily in the hollow, and called out to Psyche, 'What do you want here? Go away, and be quick about it, or your life is not worth much.' Psyche put down her pitcher and stood still, weeping bitterly. But she had not been there long when there appeared a great eagle, which circled round her several times and then seized the handle of her pitcher in his beak and flew off with it to the spring. The dragons howled, and raised themselves as high as they could in the air that they might be the better able to shoot out flames at him from their mouths, but their fiery breath was powerless to scorch him. He came back with the filled pitcher which he set down beside Psyche, and then he spread his wings again and had soon disappeared among the clouds. Psyche cast a grateful glance after him, took up her pitcher, and set out joyfully on her way home. When Aphrodite saw her returning, she felt sure that she had come with an empty pitcher, for she knew that if she had attempted to pass the dragons they would have killed her, and she thought that she would now be able to imprison her in a damp dungeon and keep her without sufficient food or sunshine. But when she looked into the vessel, she saw that it was full of the black water which Psyche had been desired to fetch. She was very angry, and poured it out upon the ground, for it was of no use to her, and began to ponder what task she could impose upon Psyche which would bring about her death without fail.

The next morning Psyche was summoned to the presence of her harsh mistress, who said to her, 'Take this golden casket to the Queen of the Lower World, and ask her to send me some of the Salve of Beauty.' Psyche left the palace, but she made up her mind that she would kill herself at once rather than attempt to take the message, for she shuddered at the horrors of the Lower World, and moreover she could not hope that if she once entered its gates she would ever be allowed to come out again. She ascended a high tower which was grey with old age, meaning to throw herself down from it; but as she stood on the top, the stones began to utter sounds, and the aged tower said, 'Do not despair, I will give you good counsel. Go to Mount Taenarus, and there you will find a dark chasm that leads down to the Lower World. The ferry-man who will row you across the river Acheron demands passage money; put two copper coins between your teeth, and hold out your mouth to him, so that he may take his fare for himself. At the gate of the Land of Shades there stands the hideous dog Cerberus. For him take a honey-cake in each of your hands, and throw him one when you go in at the gate, and the other when you come out again. And beware of letting either of the cakes out of your hand, for then you would find yourself imprisoned for ever in the Lower World. Persephone will fill the casket for you. Do not let anything induce you to open it.' Then the tower ceased speaking, and Psyche resolved to summon her courage and undertake the dreadful journey. She put two copper coins between her teeth, and taking a honey-cake in each hand, she went along the dark road until she reached the gloomy twilight of the Lower World. Presently she met a lame man, who was driving a lame, heavily-laden ass. He was holding up the burden which was falling from off the ass, and he called out to Psyche in a piteous voice, begging her to pick up a piece of rope from the ground for him that he might tie the burden on with it. The tender-hearted Psyche found it difficult to refuse, but she could not have done what he wanted without neglecting the warning of the tower on no account to let go of her honey-cakes; so she passed on without answering, and immediately the man and the ass vanished. Psyche next came to the river Acheron, and the surly ferryman Charon rowed her over it in his boat after he had taken one of the copper coins from her mouth. Close to the boat there swam an old man whose appearance was most pitiful,—his strength was evidently failing him, and he seemed about to sink. He stretched out one of his thin arms towards Psyche, and begged her with beseeching gestures to hold out her hand to him. But Psyche remembered the warning, and immediately the old man disappeared. When they reached the further shore, there sat three old women by the road-side, spinning, who called out to her in a pleasant voice and asked her to cut their thread for them. They were nice, kind-looking old women, but Psyche remembered the warning, and immediately they disappeared as the others had done.

After this, Psyche soon arrived at the gate of the Land of Shades, in front of which stood the three-headed dog Cerberus. She threw him a cake, and he let her go by. Then she saw flitting about her on all sides, pale, silent shades, and she was seized with horror, but she overcame it, and went on bravely to the palace of Queen Persephone and delivered her message. Persephone filled the box and gave it back to her. The fierce dog let her pass out when she gave him the second honey-cake, Charon took the second coin out of her mouth and rowed her back across the river, and at last she found herself in the sunshine once more. She was very tired and sat down on a stone to rest a little, and she thought to herself, 'I have gone through the horrors of the Lower World, and have fulfilled the command of the cruel goddess. But will she give me any thanks for it?' For some time she sat buried in sad thoughts; then she said, 'How if I were to open the casket and test the power of the wonderful salve? Perhaps it would give me such beauty that Eros would come back to me.' Quickly she lifted the cover, but there came out of the casket a cloud of stupefying vapour which threw her into a deep sleep. Before Psyche entered the Lower World, Aphrodite had sent a messenger to the Queen to beg her, instead of filling the casket with the Salve of Beauty, to put into it a narcotic vapour, for she thought that even if Psyche surmounted all the other difficulties in her path, she might at last be conquered by the temptation of curiosity and open the casket.

But Eros was not far off. He had seen how Psyche had gone through so many dangers and horrors for love of him, and now he came and wiped away the magic vapour which had settled on her face, and shut it up again in the casket. Then he soared up to Olympus, the abode of the gods, and entreated Zeus to gift Psyche with immortality, and allow him to be married to her. Zeus granted his request, and sent down Hermes, the messenger, to raise Psyche from the earth and bring her into the assembly of the gods. Before them all, Zeus held out to her a shell filled with nectar, the drink of the gods, and said to her, 'Drink immortality.' Even Aphrodite kissed her and blessed the marriage, for her anger had been overcome by Psyche's faithful love. The marriage was celebrated with great joyfulness,—Apollo and the Muses sang, the Graces danced, and the whole vault of heaven resounded with the mirth of the wedding guests.

The envious sisters were already dead. After they had plunged Psyche into misery, they each hoped to become the bride of the unknown husband, and each in turn went to the rock and threw herself from it, expecting the Wind-god to carry her into the valley as he had done before, but instead of that, they both fell down among sharp stones and perished miserably. Thus did they come to a bad end; but Psyche was enthroned as a goddess beside her Love, in the unending joy of the blessed Immortals.