Psyche obediently went to the riverside, prepared to do her best to execute the command. But the river god inspired the reeds with harmonious murmurs, which seemed to say,
“O maiden, severely tried, tempt not the dangerous flood, nor venture among the formidable rams on the other side, for as long as they are under the influence of the rising sun, they burn with a cruel rage to destroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude teeth.
But when the noon-tide sun has driven the cattle to the shade, and the serene spirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then cross in safety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes and the trunks of the trees.”
So, the compassionate river god gave Psyche instructions how to accomplish her task, and by observing his directions she soon returned to Aphrodite with her arms full of the golden fleece; but she received not the approbation of her implacable mistress, who said,
“I know very well it is by none of your own doings that you have succeeded in this task, and I am not satisfied yet that you have any capacity to make yourself useful. But I have another task for you.
Here, take this box and go your way to the infernal shades, and give this box to Persephone and say, ‘My mistress Aphrodite desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending her sick son she has lost some of her own.’ Be not too long on your errand, for I must paint myself with it to appear at the circle of the gods and goddesses this evening.”Psyche was now satisfied that her destruction was at hand, being obliged to go with her own feet directly down to Cerebus.
Wherefore, to make no delay of what could not be avoided, she went to the top of a high tower to jump precipitously headlong, and so descend by the shortest way to the darkest shades below.
A voice from the tower said to her, “Why, poor unlucky girl, dost thou design to put an end to thy days in so dreadful a manner? And what cowardice makes thee sink under this last danger who hast been so miraculously supported in all thy former tasks?"
Then the voice told her how by a certain cave she might reach the realms of Hades, and how to avoid all the dangers of the road, and by pass Cerberus, the three-headed dog, as well as prevail on the ferryman Charon, to take her across the black river Styx and bring her back again. But the voice added, “
When Persephone has given you the box filled with her beauty, of all things this is chiefly to be observed by you, that you never once open or look into the box nor allow your curiosity to pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses.”
Psyche, encouraged by this advice, obeyed it in all things, and taking heed to her ways travelled safely to the kingdom of Hades, the god of the underworld. She was admitted to the palace of his wife, Persephone, and without accepting the delicate seat or delicious banquet that was offered her, but instead content with coarse bread for her food, she delivered her message from Aphrodite.
The box was given to her, shut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she returned the way that she came, glad she was o come out once more into the light of day and begone of that woeful place. But having got so far successfully through her dangerous task a longing desire seized her to examine the contents of the box.
“What,” said she, “shall I, the carrier of this divine beauty, not take the least bit to put on my cheeks to appear to more advantage in the eyes of my beloved husband!”
So she carefully opened the box, but found nothing there of any beauty at all, but an infernal and truly Stygian sleep, which being thus set free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell down in the midst of the road, a sleepy corpse without sense or motion.
Cupid, called her Eros, had recovered from his wound, and was no able longer to bear the absence of his beloved Psyche, and slipped through the smallest crack of the window of his chamber which happened to be left open, and flew to the spot where Psyche lay.
Gathering up the sleep from her body, he closed it again in the box, and waked Psyche with a light touch of one of his arrows.
“Again,” said he, “hast thou almost perished by the same curiosity. But now perform exactly the task imposed on you by my mother, and I will take care of the rest.”
Eros then as swift as lightning penetrating the heights of heaven, presented himself before Zeus with his supplication.
The great and mighty Zeus lent a favouring ear, and pleaded the cause of the lovers so earnestly with Aphrodite that he won her consent.
On this he sent Winged Hermes to bring Psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, handing her a cup of ambrosia, he said, “Drink this, Psyche, and be immortal; nor shall Eros ever break away from the knot in which he is tied, but these nuptials shall be perpetual.”
Thus Psyche became at last united to Eros and after a while they had a daughter whose name was Joy or sometimes called Pleasant or Pleasure.
---------------------------------------------concluded
The Psyche and Eros tale is similar to the tales of Cinderella or of Beauty and the Beast, both by the French fabulist, Charles Perrault, in his selection of Fairy Tales. Perrault wrote them in mid 17th Century (circa 1660) though originally he had told them to amuse his own children.
This tale is considered allegorical as well, as the Greek name for a butterfly is Psyche, which also means the soul. There is no illustration of the immortality of the soul so striking and beautiful as the butterfly, bursting on brilliant wings from the tomb in which it has lain, after a dull, grovelling, caterpillar existence, to flutter in the blaze of day and feed on the most fragrant and delicate productions of the spring.
So, the butterfly is also the metaphor for the resurrection of Christ, and so used in Christian stories as well as in jewelry -- for often it is easier for a woman to wear a butterfly pin or pendant than a cross at places of work where religious imagery is currently forbid.
If Psyche is the resurrection of Christ, it also represents the Human Soul, which is purified by sufferings and misfortunes, and is prepared for the enjoyment of true and pure happiness in her immortal rebirth. In works of art Psyche is represented as a maiden with the wings of a butterfly, as is her husband Eros/Cupid.
John Milton, the great poet, alludes to the story of Cupid and Psyche in the conclusion of his “Comus” (the son of Dionysus (Bacchus) representing the god of revelry and nocturnal partying. In Ancient Greece during his reign, men and women exchanged clothes as Comus was the god of excess).
| Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced, | |
| After her wandring labours long, | |
| Till free consent the gods among | 1025 |
| Make her his eternal Bride, | |
| And from her fair unspotted side | |
| Two blissful twins are to be born, | |
| Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn. | |
| But now my task is smoothly done, |
The story of Cupid and Psyche first appears in the works of Lucius Apuleius, a Roman Platonist writer from Numidia (now Algiers) in his Gold Ass, a prose narrative, of the second century of our era. It is therefore of much more recent date than most of the legends of the Age of Fable but it is considered that he based his works on the forgotten stories of Ovid's Metamorphoses. Besides the Keats citation below, Apuleius' tales influenced William Shakespeare, C. S. Lewis, Giovanni Bocaccio and his Decameron, Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes, the artist-writer, William Morris.
It is the Apuleius version that John Keats the poet, alludes to in his “Ode to Psyche”, click here for the full poem:
| O latest-born and loveliest vision far | |
| Of all Olympus' faded hierarchy! | 25 |
| Fairer than Phoebe's sapphire-region'd star, | |
| Or Vesper, amorous glow-worm of the sky; | |
| Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none, | |
| Nor altar heap'd with flowers; | |
| Nor Virgin-choir to make delicious moan | 30 |
| Upon the midnight hours; | |
| No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet | |
| From chain-swung censer teeming; | |
| No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat | |
| Of pale-mouth'd prophet dreaming. |
No comments:
Post a Comment