Psyche
Page 15
Amid these reflections, she opened the box, but it contained no beauty nor anything else, so far as she saw; instead out crept a truly Stygian and deadly sleep which, as soon as the cover was taken off, immediately seized her and wrapped her in a dense cloud of drowsiness. She fell prostrate and lay there like a corpse, on the path, just where she had been standing.
Cupid, now recovered from his injury and unable to bear Psyche’s long absence a moment longer, flew out through the lofty window of the bedroom where he had been held prisoner. His wings invigorated by their long rest, he hurried to Psyche, carefully brushed away the cloud of sleep from her body and shut it up again in its box, then roused her with a harmless prick of an arrow. “Poor girl,” he said, “your curiosity has once more nearly ruined you. Hurry now and complete the task which my mother set you; and I’ll see to everything else.” With these words he flew off, and she sprang up at once to deliver Proserpine’s present.
But Cupid, who had fallen more deeply in love with Psyche than ever and was alarmed by his mother’s sudden respectability, returned to his old tricks. He flew at great speed to the very highest Heaven and flung himself as a suppliant at Jupiter’s feet, where he pleaded his case. Jupiter pinched his cheeks and kissed his hand. Then he said: “My masterful child, you never pay me the respect which has been decreed me by the Council of Gods, and you’re always shooting your arrows into my heart—the very seat of the laws that govern the elements and the constellations of the sky. Often you defile it with mortal love affairs, contrary to the laws, notably the Julian edict, and the public peace, injuring my reputation and authority by involving me in sordid love intrigues and disagreeably transforming my serene appearance into that of serpent, fire, wild beast, bird or bull. Nevertheless, I can’t forget how often I’ve nursed you on my knees and how soft-hearted I can be, so I’ll do whatever you ask. But please realise that you must protect yourself against envious persons, and if any other girl of really outstanding beauty happens to be about on the earth today, remember the good turn I am doing you and get her to recompense me for it.”
After saying these words, he ordered Mercury to call a council of all the gods, with a penalty of ten thousand sestertii for non-appearance. Everyone was afraid to be fined such a sum, so the Celestial Theatre filled up at once, and Almighty Jupiter from his sublime throne read the following address:
“Right honourable gods and goddesses whose names are registered in the White Roll of the Muses, you all know the young man over there whom I have brought up from boyhood and to whose youthfully passionate nature I have thought it advisable to administer certain curbs. It is enough to remind you of the daily complaints that come in of his adulterous living and practising of every sort of vice. Well, we must stop the young rascal from doing anything of the sort again by fastening the fetters of marriage securely upon him. He has found and seduced a girl called Psyche, and so let him have her, hold her, possess her and enjoy her embraces from this time forth and for evermore.”
Then he turned to Venus: “My daughter, you have no occasion to be sad or ashamed that your rank and station in Heaven has been disgraced by your son’s mortal match; for I’ll see that the marriage is one between social equals, legitimate and in accordance with civil law.” He ordered Mercury to fetch Psyche at once and escort her up to Heaven. When she arrived he took a cup of ambrosia and handed it to her. “Drink, Psyche, and become an immortal,” he said. “Cupid will now never fly away from your arms, but will remain your husband for ever.”
Presently a great wedding feast was prepared. Cupid reclined in the place of honour with Psyche’s head resting on his breast; Jupiter was placed next, with Juno and then all the other gods and goddesses in order. Jupiter was served with nectar, the wine of the gods, by the rustic boy, his personal cup-bearer; Bacchus attended to everyone else. Vulcan was the chef; the Seasons decorated the palace with red roses and other flowers, the Graces sprinkled balsam water; the Muses chanted harmoniously; Apollo sang to his own lyre; and fair Venus came forward and performed a fine step-dance in time to the music, while Satyrus and Paniscus played on their pipes. And so Psyche was married to Cupid and in due time she bore him her child, a daughter whose name was Pleasure.
That was the story the witless and drunken old woman told to the girl prisoners, and I, standing not far off, regretted that I had no pen or tablets to commit such a fine tale to writing.
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Copyright
Psyche first published in Dutch in 1898
Cupid and Psyche, for The Golden Ass by Lucius Apuleius, translated by Robert Graves 1950, with the translation subsequently edited by Michael Grant. Translation published with permission of Carcanet Press.
Quotation on page 4, from Collected Short Poems by Ezra Pound,
1968, reproduced by permission of Faber and Faber Ltd.
This edition first published in 1999 by
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ISBN 978 1 908968 57 9
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Cover illustration: Bondi
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