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Long ago a
king and queen had three lovely daughters. The two older ones were just a
bit above ordinary. But the youngest, named Psyche, was the fairest and
brightest girl in the kingdom. People began to desert the altars of
Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, and worship Psyche instead. In
fact, some were even beginning to call Psyche the second Aphrodite.
Aphrodite, furious about Psyche’s fame, ordered her son Cupid to wound the
princess with one of his arrows. “Avenge your mother!” she cried. “Make
Psyche fall in love with the vilest of men - the most miserable and meanest
beast you can find!”
Cupid set at at once to do his mother’s bidding. But when the god of love
laid eyes upon the fair maiden, he accidentally pricked his own finger with
one of his arrows - and he himself fell in love with Psyche.
Tormented by his sudden passion, Cupid immediately flew to Apollo, the god
of light and truth, and asked for his help.
Soon afterwards all of Psyche’s admirers mysteriously vanished. Her father
couldn’t understand why his daughter’s suitors had stopped calling. Fearing
the gods might be angry with him, he asked Apollo for advice.
“Perhaps it has been decreed your daughter is to marry a god,” Apollo said.
“Leave her alone on top of a mountain, and soon you will find out if a god
wants her for a wife.”
When Psyche’s father returned home and reported what Apollo had said, a cry
of grief went up from the household, for they all knew they would soon lose
their beautiful Psyche. But since the commands of the gods must always be
obeyed, the king and queen prepared their daughter for her lonely exile.
The whole city lit torches. And to the sound of a lonely flute, people
chanted a funeral hymn as they escorted the beautiful princess up a steep
mountain. When they reached the topmost peak, Psyche spoke to her family and
friends: “Fear not. Do not torment yourself with grief, but leave me now to
meet my fate.”
After her brave words, everyone bid her good-bye; and as they filed down the
mountainside, their torches were nearly extinguished by their tears.
Psyche also cried until she finally fell asleep on the deserted mountaintop.
But while she slept, the gentle West Wind lifted her up and bore her down to
a flowery plateau. And in the morning, when she woke, she found herself
lying in a bed of grass before a great palace that had a roof of ivory and
columns of gold. A chorus of sweet music filled the air, and the soft voices
of invisible beings whispered in her ear, “ All of this is yours now.”
Psyche wandered about the golden, gleaming palace. She bathed herself in
refreshing spring waters and ate a wonderful dinner, which invisible hands
placed before her.
During the night, Cupid came to her. “You are my wife,” he said in the dark.
“I love you more than anything. But I must ask that you never try to look
upon my face. I will only visit you in the night; but our nights will be
glorious and filled with joy.”
When Psyche asked why she could not look at him, Cupid only said, “Honor my
request, for if you look upon me, we will be separated forever.” Actually
Cupid was afraid that if Psyche discovered he was the son of Aphrodite, she
would adore him as a god, rather than love him as an equal.
Psyche loved her nightly visits with Cupid, though during the day she was
sad and lonely. One night, she asked her husband to allow her to send for
her two older sisters.
“If they come here, it will be the beginning of our doom,” Cupid said.
“Oh, no! Please, let them come!” Psyche begged. “If you won’t allow me to
see you, at least allow me to see my sisters!”
It sadden Cupid to hear these words, so her ordered the West Wind to bring
Psyche’s older sisters to see her.
When the sisters arrived at the palace, they were overjoyed to find Psyche
alive and well. But as soon as they began to look about and note the
splendor in which she lived, they grew envious. By the time they returned
home, they were in a jealous rage because their own husbands were not as
wealthy as Psyche’s.
On their second visit to the palace, the sisters demanded to meet Psyche’s
husband.
“I’m afraid I cannot let you see him,” she said.
“Why? Is he so ugly that you are ashamed?”
“No, he cannot allow himself to be seen. Even I have not seen him in the
daylight.”
"What?” her sisters screamed.
“I try not to mind,” said Psyche. “He’s very gentle and kind, and he seems
to love me more than life itself.”
The two sisters grew more envious than ever when they heard how much Psyche’s
husband loved her. When they returned home, they tore their hair and wailed
with sorrow because their own husbands were cold and unkind.
The sisters grew so jealous of Psyche, they decided to spoil her happiness.
The next time they came to the palace, one said, “We don’t believe your
husband is so wonderful after all.”
“Oh, but he is,” said Psyche.
“Oh, but he is not!” said the other sister. “We’ve been to an oracle, and
she said your husband is a loathsome, horrible monster! And, that’s why he
won’t let you look upon him!”
“No! That’s not true!” cried Psyche.
“It is! And what’s more - she said he’s just waiting for you to have his
child, and then he plans to kill you!”
"No! No!” Psyche wept.
But finally her sisters persuaded her that her husband was indeed a horrible
monster; and they convinced her that in the night, she most hold a lantern
above him - and then cut off his head.
In the dark, all was quiet, except for the sound of Cupid’s soft breathing
as he slept. Psyche trembled as she slipped from their bed and fetched the
oil lamp and knife she’s hidden earlier.
When she returned to bed, Psyche lit her lamp, then slowly lifted it above
Cupid’s head. She was stunned to see the flushed, shining face of Aphrodite’s
son. Even her lamplight burned brighter with joy as it beheld the beautiful
god.
In a daze, Psyche gently touched Cupid’s golden curls and his white, shining
wings and his quiver of arrows. When she touched one of his arrows, she
pricked herself - and fell deeply in love with the god of love. Psyche felt
such rapture she nearly swooned to the floor. As she caught herself, a drop
of oil fell from her lamp onto Cupid’s shoulder.
Cupid woke up. When he saw Psyche staring wide-eyed at him, holding a knife
in her hand, a look of sadness crossed his face. “My love, were you afraid
that I was a hideous monster?”
Before Psyche could answer, he said, “There can be no love if there is not
trust. I will never come to you again.” And with those sad words, he started
to fly away.
Crying out in grief, Psyche grabbed onto Cupid and clung to him as he soared
high into the sky. But soon, overcome with weariness, she fell to the ground.
Then she lay alone in the cold dark night, wishing she could die.
Thereafter, Psyche wandered the earth, searching for her lost husband. She
didn’t know that Cupid was as sad as she; and that he lay in bed at his
mother’s palace, wounded by his love for her.
Psyche desperately sought help from all the gods and goddesses, but none
wished to incur the wrath of Aphrodite. Only Demeter, the goddess of grain
would give her counsel.
“Seek Aphrodite and beg her forgiveness,” Demeter advised, “for her son now
lies in her palace, mourning for you. And Aphrodite tires of caring for him.
Beg her to unite the two of you again.”
But Aphrodite let out a wild shriek when she saw Psyche humbly standing on
her doorstep. The great goddess ordered her handmaidens Trouble and Sorrow
to fall upon the girl and tear her clothes and pull her hair.
When the dreadful attack was over, Aphrodite smiled at Psyche who lay
trembling on the ground. “Now, you want to see my son? Don’t you know he
loathes you and wishes to never lay eyes upon you again? Really, you are
such a plain and unfortunate creature, I almost take pity upon you. Perhaps
I should train you to be more fitting for a god.”
Aphrodite then gave Psyche a task to perform. She led the girl to a store
house filled with grains of many kinds. “Sort all these by evening,” she
said. And with that, she disappeared.
As Psyche stared hopelessly at the piles of barley, lentils, and poppy seeds,
an amazing thing began to happen. An army of ants assembled; and within
minutes, waves of ants crawled up the piles of grain. Each ant carried one
tiny seed at a time - until all the seeds were sorted in three different
piles.
When Aphrodite returned at nightfall, she flew into a rage. “Some one has
helped you!” she shrieked. “In the morning I demand you complete another
task!” Then Aphrodite threw Psyche a piece of hard black bread and left her
to sleep on the cold threshing floor.
The next morning, Aphrodite pushed Psyche out into the rosy dawn. “Go to the
pasture beside the flowing stream!” the goddess said. “There live the fierce
rams with the golden wool. Gather some of their fleece - and then you might
be a person worthy of my son’s love.”
Psyche stood by the flowing stream that bordered the pasture where the wild
rams grazed. As she watched the beasts fight with one another, she knew she
could never get near the wool without being killed. She felt such despair
she wanted to drown herself in the stream.
But then a green swaying reed began to whisper melodically, “Do not slay
yourself, Psyche. Nor approach those terrible sheep. In the noonday heat,
when the sheep are napping, slip into the pasture and pick the golden wool
that clings to the sharp briars and thorny bushes.”
At noontime when the drowsy rams lay down for a nap, Psyche crossed the
stream and crept into the pasture. And within a short time, she had gathered
all the golden wool that clung to the twigs and briars.
When Aphrodite saw Psyche’s wool, she smiled bitterly, “Someone must be
helping you,” she said, and gave her yet another task. This time she wanted
Psyche to fill a crystal goblet with icy mountain water from the mouth of
the Stygian river.
Psyche took the goblet from Aphrodite and began climbing the craggy rocks of
the mountain. But when she got near the top, she realized this was the worst
task yet, for the rocks near the mouth of the river were hopelessly steep
and slippery. Just as she decided to fling herself off the mountain, an
eagle flew over.
“Wait!” the eagle cried. “Give me the crystal goblet, and I will fly to the
mouth of the black river and get water for you!”
Psyche gave her goblet to the eagle, and he held the vessel tightly with his
fierce jaws as he flew to the mountain peak. After he’d filled the vessel
and returned it to Psyche, she carried the dark water back to Aphrodite.
When Psyche handed the goblet to Aphrodite, the goddess accused her of being
a sorceress. Then she gave Psyche the cruelest task of all: she ordered her
to carry a box to the underworld and ask Queen Prosperina for a small
portion of her beauty.
Psyche knew this was the end, for she would never gain the courage to
descend to the underworld, the terrifying land of the dead. With great
despair, she climbed to the top of a high tower and prepared to hurl herself
to her death.
But just as she was about to jump, the tower spoke: “What cowardice makes
you give up now, Psyche Be kind to yourself, and I will tell you how to
reach the underworld and how to succeed in your quest.”
After she promised to kill herself, the tower told Psyche how to travel to
the land of the dead. “Take two coins and two pieces of barley cake,” the
tower said. “A lame donkey driver will ask you for help, but you must never
refuse him.
“Then give one coin to Charon, the ferryman, and he will take you across the
river Styx to the underworld. As you cross the water, the groping hand of a
dying man will reach out to you, but you must turn away. You must also
refuse to help three women weaving the threads of fate.”
“When you come to Cerberus, the three-headed watchdog that guards the palace
doors, give him a barley cake, and he will friendly to you. Do all of this
again on your way out. But most importantly, when you carry the box of
beauty from Prosperina back to Aphrodite, do not open it - whatever you do,
do not open the beauty box!””
Psyche did as the tower told her, until finally she had secured the box of
beauty from Prosperina, queen of the dead. Then she repeated her actions as
she left the underworld. She gave Cerberus a cake on the way out of the
palace; she gave Charon a coin to take her across the river Styx; and she
refused to stop for any who tried to ensnare her with cries for help.
But when Psyche was close to Aphrodite’s palace, a burning curiosity
overtook her. She was dying to open the box and use a small portion of
Prosperina’s beauty.
Psyche gingerly lifted the lid of the box. But she did not find the beauty
inside - instead, she found a deadly sleep; and as the sleep overtook her,
she crumpled to the road.
Meanwhile Cupid had escaped out of the window of his palace room; and as he
was flying over the earth, searching for Psyche, he saw her lying
unconscious beside the road.
Cupid hastened down to her and quickly gathered the sleep from her body and
closed it back inside the box. Then he woke Psyche with a kiss.
Before Aphrodite could catch them, Cupid lifted Psyche from the ground and
carried her high into the heavens to Mount Olympus to the home of Zeus, god
of the skies; and he bid Zeus to officially marry them.
After Zeus married Cupid and Psyche, all of Mount Olympus celebrate the
couple - except for Aphrodite, of course. She raged about for weeks. But
within a year, the aging goddess became the grandmother of a beautiful baby
girl named Bliss.
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