{150}
20'Most honour'd Lady, who from ancient doomWert made heaven's wife, and art on earth besoughtWith gracious happiness of all to whomThy holy wedlock hath my burden brought,Save me from Aphrodite's fell pursuit,And guard unto the birth Love's hapless fruit,Which she for cruel spite would bring to nought.
21'As once from her thou wert not shamed to takeHer beauty's zone, thy beauty to enhance;For which again Zeus loved thee, to forsakeHis warlike ire in faithful dalliance;Show me what means may win my Love to me,Or how that I may come, if so may be,Within the favour of his countenance.
22'If there be any place for tears or prayer,If there be need for succour in distress,Now is the very hour of all despair,Here is the heart of grief and bitterness.Motherly pity, bend thy face and grantOne beam of ruth to thy poor suppliant,Nor turn me from thine altar comfortless.'
23Even as she pray'd a cloud spread through the cell,And 'mid the wreathings of the vapour dimThe goddess grew in glory visible,Like some barbaric queen in festal trim;Such the attire and ornaments she wore,When o'er the forgèd threshold of the floorOf Zeus's house she stept to visit him.
{151}
24From either ear, ring'd to its piercèd lobeA triple jewel hung, with gold enchas't;And o'er her breasts her wide ambrosial robeWith many a shining golden clasp was brac't;The flowering on its smooth embroider'd lawnGather'd to colour where the zone was drawnIn fringe of golden tassels at her waist.
25Her curling hair with plaited braid and brail,Pendant or loop'd about her head divine,Lay hidden half beneath a golden veil,Bright as the rippling ocean in sunshine:And on the ground, flashing whene'er she stept,Beneath her feet the dazzling lightnings leptFrom the gold network of her sandals fine.
26Thus Hera stood in royal guise bedecktBefore poor Psyche on the stair that knelt,Whose new-nursed hope at that display was checktAnd all her happier thoughts gan fade and melt.She saw no kindness in such haughty mien,And venturing not to look upon the queen,Bow'd down in woe to hear her sentence dealt.
27And thus the goddess spake, 'In vain thou suest,Most miserable Psyche; though my heartBe full of hate for her whose hate thou ruest,And pride and pity move me to thy part:Yet not till Zeus make known his will, coud I,Least of the blameless gods that dwell on high,Assist thee, wert thou worthier than thou art.
{152}
28'But know if Eros love thee, that thy hopesShould rest on him; and I would bid thee goWhere in his mother's house apart he mopesGrieving for loss of thee in secret woe:For should he take thee back, there is no powerIn earth or heaven will hurt thee from that hour,Nay, not if Zeus himself should prove thy foe.'
29Thus saying she was gone, and Psyche nowSurprised by comfort rose and went her way,Resolved in heart, and only wondering how'Twas possible to come where Eros lay;Since that her feet, however she might roam,Coud never travel to the heavenly homeOf Love, beyond the bounds of mortal day:
30Yet must she come to him. And now 'twas provedHow that to Lovers, as is told in song,Seeking the way no place is far removed;Nor is there any obstacle so strong,Nor bar so fix'd that it can hinder them:And how to reach heaven's gate by stratagemVex'd not the venturous heart of Psyche long.
31To face her enemy might well avail:Wherefore to Cypris' shrine her steps she bent,Hoping the goddess in her hate might haleHer body to the skies for punishment,Whate'er to be; yet now her fiercest wrathSeem'd happiest fortune, seeing 'twas the pathWhereby alone unto her love she went.
{153}
NOVEMBER
1But Aphrodite to the house of ZeusBeing bound, bade beckon out her milkwhite steeds,Four doves, that ready to her royal useIn golden cages stood and peck'd the seeds:Best of the nimble air's high-sailing folkThat wore with pride the marking of her yoke,And cooed in envy of her gentle needs.
2These drew in turn her chariot, when in stateAlong the heaven with all her train she fared;And oft in journeying to the skiey gateOf Zeus's palace high their flight had dared,Which darkest vapour and thick glooms enshroudAbove all else in the perpetual cloud,Wherethro' to mount again they stood prepared,
3Sleeking their feathers, by her shining car;The same Hephæstos wrought for her, when he,Bruised in his hideous fall from heaven afar,Was nursed by Thetis, and Eurynomè,The daughter of the ever-refluent main;With whom he dwelt till he grew sound again,Down in a hollow cave beside the sea:
{154}
4And them for kindness done was prompt to serve,Forging them brooches rich in make and mode,Earrings, and supple chains of jointed curve,And other trinkets, while he there abode:And none of gods or men knew of his home,But they two only; and the salt sea-foamTo and fro past his cavern ever flow'd.
5'Twas then he wrought this work within the cave,Emboss'd with rich design, a moonèd car;And when return'd to heaven to Venus gave,In form imagined like her crescent star;Which circling nearest earth, maketh at nightTo wakeful mortal men shadow and lightAlone of all the stars in heaven that are.
6Two slender wheels it had, with fretted tiresOf biting adamant, to take firm holdOf cloud or ether; and their whirling firesThrew off the air in halo where they roll'd:And either nave that round the axle turn'dA ruby was, whose steady crimson burn'dBetwixt the twin speed-mingling fans of gold.
7Thereon the naked goddess mounting, shookThe reins; whereat the doves their wings outspread,And rising high their flight to heaven they took:And all the birds, that in those courts were bred,Of her broad eaves the nested families,Sparrows and swallows, join'd their companiesAwhile and twitter'd to her overhead.
{155}
8But onward she with fading tracks of flameSped swiftly, till she reacht her journey's end:And when within the house of Zeus she came,She pray'd the Sire of Heaven that he would lendHermes, the Argus-slayer, for her hest;And he being granted her at her request,She went forthwith to seek him and to send.
9Who happ'd within the palace then to waitUpon the almighty pleasure; and her taleWas quickly told, and he made answer straightThat he would find the truant without fail;Asking the goddess by what signs her slaveMight best be known, and what the price she gaveFor capture, or admitted for the bail.
10All which he took his silver stile to writeIn letters large upon a waxed board;Her age and name, her colour, face and height,Her home, and parentage, and the reward:And then read o'er as 'twas to be proclaim'd.And she took oath to give the price she named,Without demur, when Psyche was restored.
11Then on his head he closely set his capWith earèd wings erect, and o'er his kneeHe cross'd each foot in turn to prove the strapThat bound his wingèd sandals, and shook freeHis chlamys, and gat up, and in his handTaking his fair white-ribbon'd herald's wand,Lept forth on air, accoutred cap-a-pè.
{156}
12And piloting along the mid-day sky,Held southward, till the narrow map of CreteLay like a fleck in azure 'neath his eye;When down he came, and as an eagle fleetDrops in some combe, then checks his headlong stoopWith wide-flung wing, wheeling in level swoopTo strike the bleating quarry with his feet,
13Thus he alighted; and in every townIn all the isle before the close of dayHad cried the message, which he carried down,Of Psyche, Aphrodite's runaway;That whosoever found the same and caught,And by such time unto her temple brought,To him the goddess would this guerdon pay:
14Six honied kisses from her rosy mouthWould Cytherea give, and one besideTo quench at heart for aye love's mortal drouth:But unto him that hid her, Woe betide!Which now was on all tongues, and Psyche's nameHerself o'erheard, or ever nigh she cameTo Aphrodite's temple where she hied.
15When since she found her way to heaven was safe,She only wisht to make it soon and sure;Nor fear'd to meet the goddess in her chafe,So she her self-surrender might secure,And not be given of other for the price;Nor was there need of any artificeHer once resplendent beauty to obscure.
{157}
16For now so changed she was by heavy woe,That for the little likeness that she boreTo her description she was fear'd to goWithin the fane; and when she stood beforeThe priestess, scarce coud she with oath persuadeThat she was Psyche, the renownèd maid,Whom men had left the temple to adore.
17But when to Hermes she was shown and given,He took no doubt, but eager to be quit,And proud of speed, return'd with her to heaven,And left her with the proclamation writ,Hung at her neck, the board with letters large,At Aphrodite's gate with those in charge;And up whence first he came made haste to flit.
18But hapless Psyche fell, for so it chanced,To moodySynethea'scare, the oneOf Aphrodite's train whom she advancedTo try the work abandon'd by her son.Who by perpetual presence made ill endOf good or bad; though she coud both amend,And merit praise for work by her begun.
19But she to better thought her heart had shut,And proved she had a spite beyond compare:Nor coud the keenest taunts her anger glut,Which she when sour'd was never wont to spare:And now she mock'd at Psyche's shame and grief,As only she might do, and to her chiefAlong the courtyard dragg'd her by the hair.
{158}
20Nor now was Aphrodite kinder grown:Having her hated rival in her power,She laught for joy, and in triumphant toneBade her a merry welcome to her bower:''Tis fit indeed daughters-in-law should waitUpon their mothers; but thou comest late,Psyche; I lookt for thee before this hour.
21'And yet,' thus gave she rein to jeer and gibe,'Forgive me if I held thee negligent,Or if accustom'd vanity ascribeAn honour to myself that was not meant.Thy lover is it, who so dearly prizedThe pretty soul, then left her and despised?To him more like thy heavenward steps were bent:
22'Nor without reason: Zeus, I tell thee, swoon'dTo hear the story of the drop of oil,The revelation and the ghastly wound:My merriment is but my fear's recoil.But if my son was unkind, thou shalt seeHow kind a goddess can his mother beTo bring thy tainted honour clear of soil.'
23And so, to match her promise with her mirth,Two of her ministers she call'd in ken,That work the melancholy of the earth;Merimnathat with care perplexes, whenThe hearts of mortals have the gods forgot,AndLypè, that her sorrow spares them not,When mortals have forgot their fellow men.
{159}
24These, like twin sharks that in a fair ship's wakeSwim constant, showing 'bove the water blueTheir shearing fins, and hasty ravin makeOf overthrow or offal, so these twoOn Aphrodite's passing follow hard;And now she offer'd to their glut's regardSweet Psyche, with command their wont to do.
25But in what secret chamber their foul taskThese soul-tormentors plied, or what their skill,Pity of tender nature may not ask,Nor poet stain his rhyme with such an ill.But they at last themselves turn'd from their rack,Weary of cruelty, and led her back,Saying that further torture were to kill.
26Then when the goddess saw her, more she mockt'Art thou the woman of the earth,' she said,'That hast in sorceries mine Eros lockt,And stood thyself for worship in my stead?Looking that I should pity thee, or careFor what illicit offspring thou may'st bear;Or let thee to that god my son be wed?
27'I know thy trick; and thou art one of themWho steal love's favour in the gentle way,Wearing submission for a diadem,Patience and suffering for thy rich array:Thou wilt be modest, kind, implicit, soTo rest thy wily spirit out of showThat it may leap the livelier into play:
{160}
28'Devout at doing nothing, if so beThe grace become thee well; but active yetAbove all others be there none to seeThy business, and thine eager face asweat.Lo! I will prove thy talent: thou may'st live,And all that thou desirest will I give,If thou perform the task which I shall set.'
29She took her then aside, and bade her heedA heap of grains piled high upon the floor,Millet and mustard, hemp and poppy seed,And fern-bloom's undistinguishable spore,All kinds of pulse, of grasses, and of spice,Clover and linseed, rape, and corn, and rice,Dodder, and sesame, and many more.
30'Sort me these seeds' she said; 'it now is night,I will return at morning; if I findThat thou hast separated all aright,Each grain from other grain after its kind,And set them in unmingl'd heaps apart,Then shall thy wish be granted to thine heart.Whereat she turn'd, and closed the door behind.
{161}
WINTER
PSYCHE'S TRIALS AND RECEPTIONINTO HEAVEN
DECEMBER
1A single lamp there stood beside the heap,And shed thereon its mocking golden light;Such as might tempt the weary eye to sleepRather than prick the nerve of taskèd sight.Yet Psyche, not to fail for lack of zeal,With good will sat her down to her ordeal,Sorting the larger seeds as best she might.
2When lo! upon the wall, a shadow pastOf doubtful shape, across the chamber dimMoving with speed: and seeing nought that castThe shade, she bent her down the flame to trim;And there the beast itself, a little ant,Climb'd up in compass of the lustre scant,Upon the bowl of oil ran round the rim.
{162}
3Smiling to see the creature of her fearSo dwarf'd by truth, she watcht him where he crept,For mere distraction telling in his earWhat straits she then was in, and telling wept.Whereat he stood and trim'd his horns; but ereHer tale was done resumed his manner scare,Ran down, and on his way in darkness kept.
4But she intent drew forth with dextrous handThe larger seeds, or push'd the smaller back,Or light from heavy with her breathing fan'd.When suddenly she saw the floor grow black,And troops of ants, flowing in noiseless train,Moved to the hill of seeds, as o'er a plainArmies approach a city for attack;
5And gathering on the grain, began to striveWith grappling horns: and each from out the heapHis burden drew, and all their motion liveStruggled and slid upon the surface steep.And Psyche wonder'd, watching them, to findThe creatures separated kind from kind:Till dizzied with the sight she fell asleep.
6And when she woke 'twas with the morning soundOf Aphrodite's anger at the door,Whom high amaze stay'd backward, as she foundHer foe asleep with all her trouble o'er:And round the room beheld, in order due,The piles arranged distinct and sorted true,Grain with grain, seed with seed, and spore with spore.
{163}
7She fiercely cried 'Thou shalt not thus escape;For to this marvel dar'st thou not pretend.There is but one that could this order shape,Demeter,—but I knew her not thy friend.Therefore another trial will I set,In which she cannot aid thee nor abet,But thou thyself must bring it fair to end.'
8Thereon she sped her to the bounds of Thrace,And set her by a river deep and wide,And said 'To east beyond this stream, a raceOf golden-fleecèd sheep at pasture bide.Go seek them out; and this thy task, to pullBut one lock for me of their precious wool,And give it in my hands at eventide:
9'This do and thou shalt have thy heart's desire.'Which said, she fled and left her by the stream:And Psyche then, with courage still entire,Had plunged therein; but now of great esteemHer life she rated, while it lent a spellWherein she yet might hope to quit her well,And in one winning all her woes redeem.
10There as she stood in doubt, a fluting voiceRose from the flood, 'Psyche, be not afraidTo hear a reed give tongue, for 'twas of choiceThat I from mortal flesh a plant was made.My name is Syrinx; once from mighty PanInto the drowning river as I ran,A fearful prayer my steps for ever stay'd.
{164}
11'But by that change in many climes I live;And Pan, my lover, who to me aloneIs true and does me honour, I forgive—Nor if I speak in sorrow is't my own:Rather for thee my voice I now upliftTo warn thee plunge not in the river swift,Nor seek the golden sheep to men unknown.
12'If thou should cross the stream, which may not be,Thou coudst not climb upon the hanging rocks,Nor ever, as the goddess bade thee, seeThe pasture of the yellow-fleecèd flocks:Or if thou coud, their herded horns would goreAnd slay thee on the crags, or thrust thee o'erEre thou coudst rob them of their golden locks.
13'The goddess means thy death. But I can showHow thy obedience yet may thwart her will.At noon the golden flocks descend below,Leaving the scented herbage of the hill,And where the shelving banks to shallows fall,Drink at the rippling water one and all,Nor back return till they have drawn their fill.
14'I will command a thornbush, that it stoopOver some ram that steppeth by in peace,And him in all its prickles firmly coop,Making thee seizure of his golden fleece;So without peril of his angry hornsShalt thou be quit: for he upon the thornsMust leave his ransom ere he win release.'
{165}
15Then Psyche thankt her for her kind befriending,And hid among the rushes looking east;And when noon came she saw the flock descendingOut of the hills; and lo! one golden beastCaught in a thornbush; and the mighty bruteStruggl'd and tore it from its twisted rootInto the stream, or e'er he was releas't.
16And when they water'd were and gone, the breezeFloated the freighted thorn where Psyche lay:Whence she unhook'd the golden wool at ease,And back to heaven for passage swift gan pray.And Hermes, who was sent to be her guideIfso she lived, came down at eventide,And bore her thither ere the close of day.
17But when the goddess saw the locks of goldHeld to her hands, her heart with wrath o'erran:'Most desperate thou, and by abetting bold,That dost outwit me, prove thee as I can.Yet this work is not thine: there is but oneOf all the gods who coud the thing have done.Hast thou a friend too in the lusty Pan?
18'I'll give thee trial where he cannot aid.'Which said, she led her to a torrid land,Level and black, but not with flood or shade,For nothing coud the mighty heat withstand,Which aye from morn till eve the naked sunPour'd on that plain, where never foot had run,Nor any herb sprung on its molten sand.
{166}
19Far off a gloomy mountain rose alone:And Aphrodite, thither pointing, said'There lies thy task. Out of the topmost stoneOf yonder hill upwells a fountain head.Take thou this goblet; brimming must thou bringIts cup with water from that sacred spring,If ever to my son thou wouldst be wed.'
20Saying, she gave into her hands a bowlCut of one crystal, open, broad and fair;And bade her at all hazard keep it whole,For heaven held nought beside so fine or rare.Then was she gone; and Psyche on the plainNow doubted if she ever should regainThe love of Eros, strove she howsoe'er.
21Yet as a helmsman, at the word to tack,Swiftly without a thought puts down his helm,So Psyche turn'd to tread that desert black,Since was no fear that coud her heart o'erwhelm;Nor knew she that she went the fount to seekOf cold Cocytus, springing to the peak,Secretly from his source in Pluto's realm.
22All night and day she journey'd, and at lastCome to the rock gazed up in vain around:Nothing she saw but precipices vastO'er ruined scarps, with rugged ridges crown'd:And creeping to a cleft to rest in shade,Or e'er the desperate venture she assay'd,She fell asleep upon the stony ground.
{167}
23A dream came to her, thus: she stood aloneWithin her palace in the high ravine;Where nought but she was changed, but she to stone.Worshippers throng'd the court, and still were seenFolk flying from the peak, who, ever moreFlying and flying, lighted on the floor,Hail!cried they,wife of Eros, adorèd queen!
24A hurtling of the battl'd air disturb'dHer sunken sense, and waked her eyes to meetThe kingly bird of Zeus, himself that curb'dHis swooping course, alighting at her feet;With motion gentle, his far-darting eyeIn kindness dim'd upon her, he drew nigh,And thus in words unveil'd her foe's deceit:
25'In vain, poor Psyche, hast thou hither strivenAcross the fiery plain toiling so well;Cruelly to destruction art thou drivenBy her, whose hate thou canst not quit nor quell.No mortal foot may scale this horrid mount,And those black waters of its topmost fountAre guarded by the hornèd snakes of hell.
26'Its little rill is an upleaping jetOf cold Cocytus, which for ever licksEarth's base, and when with Acheron 'tis met,Its waters with that other cannot mix,Which holds the elemental air dissolved;But with it in its ceaseless course revolvedIssues unmingl'd in the lake of Styx.
{168}
27'The souls of murderers, in guise of fish,Scream as they swim therein and wail for cold,Their times of woe determined by the wishOf them they murder'd on the earth of old:Whom each five years they see, whene'er they makeTheir passage to the Acherusian lake,And there release may win from pains condoled.
28'For if the pitying ear of them they slewBe haply piercèd by their voices spare,Then are they freed from pain; as are some few,But, for the most, again they forward fareTo Tartarus obscene, and outcast thenceAre hurried back into the cold intense,And with new company their torments share.
29'Its biting lymph may not be touch'd of manOr god, unless the Fates have so ordain'd;Nor coud I in thy favour break the ban,Nor pass the dragons that thereby are chain'd,Didst thou not bear the sacred cup of Zeus;Which, for thy peril lent, shall turn to use,And truly do the service which it feign'd.'
30Thus as he spake, his talons made he ringAround the crystal bowl, and soaring highDescended as from heaven upon the spring:Nor dared the hornèd snakes of hell denyThe minister of Zeus, that bore his cup,To fill it with their trusted water up,Thence to the King of heaven therewith to fly.
{169}
31But he to Psyche bent his gracious speed,And bidding her to mount his feather'd backBore her aloft as once young Ganymede;Nor ever made his steady flight to slack,Ere that he set her down beside her goal,And gave into her hands the crystal bowlUnspill'd, o'erbrimming with the water black.
JANUARY
1But Eros now recover'd from his hurt,Felt other pangs; for who would not relentWeighing the small crime and unmatch'd desertOf Psyche with her cruel punishment?And shamed he grew to be so near alliedTo her, who by her taunts awoke his pride,As his compassion by her spite unspent.
2Which Aphrodite seeing, wax'd more firmThat he should never meet with Psyche more;And had in thought already set the termTo their communion with that trial sore,Which sent her forth upon a quest accurst,And not to be accomplisht, that of thirstShe there might perish on hell's torrid shore.
{170}
3And now it chanced that she had called her sonInto her presence-chamber, to unfoldPsyche's destruction, that her fate might stunWhat love remained by duty uncontrol'd;And he to hide his tears' rebellious stormWas fled; when in his place another formRose 'neath the golden lintel; and behold
4Psyche herself, in slow and balanced strain,Poising the crystal bowl with fearful heed,Her eyes at watch upon the steadied plane,And whole soul gather'd in the single deed.Onward she came, and stooping to the floorSet down the cup unspill'd and brimming o'erAt Aphrodite's feet, and rose up freed.
5Surprise o'ercame the goddess, and she tooStood like a statue, but with passion pale:Till, when her victim nothing spake, she threwSome kindness in her voice, and bade her hail;But in the smiling judge 'twas plain to see—Saying 'What water bringst thou here to me?'—That justice over hate should not prevail.
6Then Psyche said 'This is the biting floodOf black Cocytus, silver'd with the gleamOf souls, that guilty of another's bloodAre pent therein, and as they swim they scream.The hornèd snakes of hell, upon the mountEnchain'd, for ever guard the livid fount:And but the Fates can grant to touch the stream.'
{171}
7'Wherefore,' the goddess cried, ''tis plain that noneBut one I wot of coud this thing have wrought.That which another doth may well be done,Nor thou the nearer to my promise brought.Thou buildest on a hope to be destroy'd,If thou accept conditions, and avoidThy parcel, nor thyself accomplish aught.
8'Was it not kindness in me, being averseTo all thy wish, to yield me thus to grantThy heart's desire,—and nothing loathe I worse,—If thou wouldst only work as well as want?See, now I will not yet be all denial,But offer thee one last determining trial;And let it be a mutual covenant:
9'This box,' and in her hands she took a pyxSquare-cut, of dark obsidian's rarest green,'Take; and therewith beyond Tartarean StyxGo thou, and entering Hades' house obscene,Say to Persephonè,If 'tis thy willTo shew me so much favour, prithee fillThis little vase with beauty for Love's queen.
10'She begs but what shall well o'erlast a day;For of her own was much of late outspentIn nursing of her son, in bed who layWounded by me, who for the gift am sent.Then bring me what she gives, and with all speed;For truth to say I stand, thou seest, in needOf some such charm in my disparagement.
{172}
11'If thou return to me with that acquist,Having thyself the journey made, I swearThat day to give thee whatsoe'er thou list,An be it my son. Now, Psyche, wilt thou dare?'And Psyche said 'If this thou truly mean,I will go down to Tartarus obscene,And beg of Hades' queen thy beauty there.
12'Show me the way.' But Aphrodite said,'That may'st thou find. Yet I will place thee whenceA way there is: mortals have on it sped;Ay, and return'd thereby: so let us hence.'Then swift to earth her willing prey she bore,And left her on the wide Laconian shore,Alone, at midnight, in the darkness dense.
13'Twas winter; and as shivering Psyche satWaiting for morn, she question'd in her mindWhat place the goddess meant, arrived whereatShe might descend to hell, or how should findThe way which Gods to living men deny.'No Orpheus, nay, nor Hercules am I,'Said she, 'to loosen where the great Gods bind.'
14And when at length the long-delaying dawnBroke on the peaks of huge Taÿgetus,And Psyche through the skirts of dark withdrawnLook'd on that promontory mountainous,And saw high-crested Taleton in snow,Her heart sank, and she wept with head bent lowThe malice of her foe dispiteous.
{173}
15And seeing near at hand an ancient tower,Deserted now, but once a hold of men,She came thereto, and, though 'twas all her power,Mounted its steep unbroken stair again.'Surely,' she said, for now a second timeShe thought to die—'this little height I climbWill prove my shortest road to Pluto's den.
16'Hence must I come to Tartarus; once thereTurn as I may,' and straight to death had sprung;When in the mossy tower the imprison'd airWas shaken, and the hoary stones gave tongue,'Stand firm! Stand firm!' that rugged voice outcried;'Of such as choose despondency for guideHast thou not heard what bitterest fate is sung?
17'Hearken; for I the road and means can teachHow thou may'st come to hell and yet escape.And first must thou, that upper gate to reach,Along these seagirt hills thy journey shape,To where the land in sea dips furthest SouthAt Tænarus and Hades' earthly mouth,Hard by Poseidon's temple at the cape.
18'Thereby may one descend: but they that makeThat passage down must go provided well.So take in either hand a honey-cakeOf pearlèd barley mix'd with hydromel;And in thy mouth two doits, first having boundThe pyx beneath thy robe enwrap'd around:Thus set thou forth; and mark what more I tell.
{174}
19'When thou hast gone alone some half thy roadThou wilt o'ertake a lame outwearied ass;And one that beats him, tottering 'neath his loadOf loosely bundl'd wood, will cryAlas;Help me, kind friend, my faggots to adjust!But thou that silly cripple's words mistrust;'Tis planted for thy death. Note it and pass.
20'And when thy road the Stygian river joins,Where woolly Charon ferries o'er the dead,He will demand his fare: one of thy coinsForce with thy tongue between thy teeth, thy headOffering instead of hand to give the doit.His fingers in this custom are adroit,And thine must not set down the barleybread.
21'Then in his crazy bark as, ferrying o'erThe stream, thou sittest, one that seems to floatRather than swim, midway 'twixt shore and shore,Will stretch his fleshless hand upon the boat,And beg thee of thy pity take him in.Shut thy soft ear unto his clamour thin,Nor for a phantom deed thyself devote.
22'Next, on the further bank when thou art stept,Three wizen'd women weaving at the woofWill stop, and pray thee in their art adeptTo free their tangl'd threads. Hold thou aloof;For this and other traps thy foe hath plan'dTo make thee drop the cakes out of thy hand,Putting thy prudence to perpetual proof.
{175}
23'For by one cake thou comest into Hell,And by one cake departest; since the houndThat guards the gate is ever pleasèd wellTo taste man's meal, or sweeten'd grain unground.Cast him a cake; for that thou may'st go freeEven to the mansion of Persephonè,Withouten stay or peril, safe and sound.
24'She will receive thee kindly; thou declineHer courtesies, and make the floor thy seat;Refusing what is offer'd, food or wine;Save only beg a crust of bread to eat.Then tell thy mission, and her present take;Which when thou hast, set forth with pyx and cake,One in each hand, while yet thou may'st retreat.
25'Giving thy second cake to Cerberus,The coin to Charon, and that way wherebyThou camest following, thou comest thusTo see again the starry choir on high.But guard thou well the pyx, nor once upliftThe lid to look on Persephassa's gift;Else 'tis in vain I bid thee now not die.'
26Then Psyche thank'd the tower, and stoopt her mouthTo kiss the stones upon his rampart hoary;And coming down his stair went hasting south,Along the steep Tænarian promontory;And found the cave and temple by the cape,And took the cakes and coins, and made escapeBeneath the earth, according to his story.
{176}
27And overtook the ass, but lent no aid;And offer'd Charon with her teeth his fee;And pass'd the floating ghost, in vain who pray'd;And turned her back upon the weavers three;And threw the honey-cake to that hell-houndThree-headed Cerberus; and safe and sound,Came to the mansion of Persephonè.
28Kindly received, she courtesy declined:Sat on the ground; ate not, save where she lay,A crust of bread; reveal'd the goddess' mind;The gift took; and return'd upon her way:Gave Cerberus his cake, Charon his fare,And saw through Hell's mouth to the purple airAnd one by one the keen stars melt in day.
29Awhile from so long journeying in the shadesResting at Tænarus she came to knowHow, up the eastern coast some forty stades,There stood a temple of her goddess foe.There would she make her offering, there reclaimThe prize, which now 'twas happiness to name,The joy that should redeem all passèd woe.
30And wending by the sunny shore at noon,She with her pyx, and wondering what it hid,Of what kind, what the fashion of the boonCoud be, that she to look on was forbid,—Alas for Innocence so hard to teach!—At fancy's prick she sat her on the beach,And to content desire lifted the lid.
{177}
31She saw within nothing: But o'er her sightThat looked on nothing gan a darkness creep.A cloudy poison, mix'd of Stygian night,Rapt her to deadly and infernal sleep.Backward she fell, like one when all is o'er,And lay outstretch'd, as lies upon the shoreA drown'd corpse cast up by the murmuring deep.
FEBRUARY
1While Eros in his chamber hid his tears,Mourning the loss of Psyche and her fate,The rumour of her safety reacht his earsAnd how she came to Aphrodite's gate:Whereat with hope return'd his hardihood,And secretly he purposed while he coudHimself to save her from the goddess' hate.
2Then learning what he might and guessing more,His ready wit came soon to understandThe journey to the far Laconian shore;Whither to fly and seek his love he plan'd:And making good escape in dark of night,Ere the sun crost his true meridian flightHe by Teuthronè struck the southern strand.
{178}
3There as it chanct he found that snowy birdOf Crete, that late made mischief with his queen,And now along the cliffs with wings unstir'dSail'd, and that morn had cross'd the sea between:Whom as he past he hail'd, and question'd thus,'O snowy gull, if thou from TænarusBe come, say, hast thou there my Psyche seen?'
4The gull replied 'Thy Psyche have I seen;Walking beside the sea she joy'th to bearA pyx of dark obsidian's rarest green,Wherein she gazeth on her features fair.She is not hence by now six miles at most.'Then Eros bade him speed, and down the coastHeld on his passage through the buoyant air.
5With eager eye he search'd the salty marge,Boding all mischief from his mother's glee;And wondering of her wiles, and what the chargeShut in the dark obsidian pyx might be.And lo! at last, outstretch'd beside the rocks,Psyche as lifeless; and the open boxLaid with the weedy refuse of the sea.
6He guess'd all, flew down, and beside her knelt,With both his hands stroking her temples wan;And for the poison with his fingers felt,And drew it gently from her; and anonShe slowly from those Stygian fumes was freed;Which he with magic handling and good heedReplaced in pyx, and shut the lid thereon.
{179}
7'O Psyche,' thus, and kissing her he cried,'O simple-hearted Psyche, once againHast thou thy foolish longing gratified,A second time hath prying been thy bane.But lo! I, love, am come, for I am thine:Nor ever more shall any fate malign,Or spite of goddess smite our love in twain.
8'Let now that I have saved thee twice outweighThe once that I deserted thee: and thouHast much obey'd for once to disobey,And wilt no more my bidding disallow.Take up thy pyx; to Aphrodite go,And claim the promise of thy mighty foe;Maybe that she will grant it to thee now.
9'If she should yet refuse, despair not yet!'Then Psyche, when she felt his arms restoreTheir old embrace, and as their bodies met,Knew the great joy that grief is pardon'd for;And how it doth first ecstasy excel,When love well-known, long-lost, and mournèd wellIn long days of no hope, comes home once more.
10But Eros leaping up with purpose keenInto the air, as only love can fly,Bore her to heaven, and setting her unseenAt Aphrodite's golden gate,—wherebyThey came as night was close on twilight dim,—There left, and bidding her say nought of himWent onward to the house of Zeus most high.
{180}
11Where winning audience of the heavenly sire,Who well disposed to him was used to be,He told the story of his strong desire;And boldly begg'd that Zeus would grant his pleaThat he might have sweet Psyche for his wife,And she be dower'd with immortal life,Since she was worthy, by his firm decree.
12And great Zeus smiled; and at the smile of ZeusAll heaven was glad, and on the earth belowWas calm and peace awhile and sorrow's truce:The sun shone forth and smote the winter snow,The flowërs sprang, the birds gan sing and pair,And mortals, as they drew the brighten'd air,Marvel'd, and quite forgot their common woe.
13Yet gave the Thunderer not his full consentWithout some words: 'At length is come the day,'Thus spake he, 'when for all thy youth misspent,Thy mischief-making and thy wanton playThou art upgrown to taste the sweet and sour:Good shall it work upon thee: from this hourLook we for better things. And this I say,
14'That since thy birth, which all we took for bliss,Thou hast but mock'd us; and no less on meHast brought disfavour and contempt, ywiss,Than others that have had to do with thee:Till only such as vow'd themselves aloofFrom thee and thine were held in good approof;And few there were, who thus of shame went free.
{181}
15'That punishment is shapen as rewardIs like thy fortune: but our good estateWe honour, while we sit to be adored:And thus 'twas written in the book of Fate.Not for thy pleasure, but the general wealGrant I the grace for which thou here dost kneel;And that which I determine shall not wait.'
16So wingèd Hermes through the heaven he sped,To warn the high celestials to his hall,Where they should Psyche see with Eros wed,And keep the day with feast ambrosial.And Hermes, flying through the skiey waysOf high Olympus, spread sweet Psyche's praise,And bade the mighty gods obey his call.
17Then all the Kronian gods and goddessesAssembl'd at his cry,—and now 'twas knownWhy Zeus had smiled,—the lesser majestiesAttending them before his royal throne.Athena, mistress good of them that know,Came, and Apollo, warder off of woe,Who had to Psyche's sire her fate foreshown;
18Demeter, giver of the golden corn,Fair Hebe, honour'd at her Attic shrine,And Artemis with hunting spear and horn,And Dionysos, planter of the vine,With old Poseidon from the barren sea,And Leto, and the lame Hephæstos, heHimself who built those halls with skill divine.
{182}
19And ruddy Pan with many a quip and quirkAir'd 'mong those lofty gods his mirth illbred,Bearing a mighty bowl of cretan work:Stern Arês, with his crisp hair helmeted,Came, and retirèd Hestia, and the godHermes, with wingèd cap and ribbon'd rod,By whom the company was heralded.
20And Hera sat by Zeus, and all aroundThe Muses, that of learning make their choice;Who, when Apollo struck his strings to sound,Sang in alternate music with sweet voice:And righteous Themis, and the Graces threeUshering the anger'd Aphrodite; sheAlone of all were there might not rejoice
21But ere they sat to feast, Zeus bade them fillThe cup ambrosial of immortal life,And said 'If Psyche drink,—and 'tis my will,—There is an end of this unhappy strife.Nor can the goddess, whose mislike had birthFrom too great honour paid the bride on earth,Forbid her any more for Eros' wife.'
22Then Aphrodite said 'So let it be.'And Psyche was brought in, with such a flushOf joy upon her face, as there to seeWas fairer to love's eye than beauty's blush.And then she drank the eternal wine, whose draughtCan Terror cease: which flesh hath never quafft,Nor doth it flow from grape that mortals crush.
{183}
23And next stood Eros forth, and took her hand,And kisst her happy face before them all:And Zeus proclaim'd them married, and outban'dFrom heaven whoever should that word miscall.And then all sat to feast, and one by onePledged Psyche ere they drank and criedWell done!And merry laughter rang throughout the hall.
24So thus was Eros unto Psyche wed,The heavenly bridegroom to his earthly bride,Who won his love, in simple maidenhead:And by her love herself she glorified,And him from wanton wildness disinclined;Since in his love for her he came to findA joy unknown through all Olympus wide.
25And Psyche for her fall was quite forgiven,Since 'gainst herself when tempted to rebel,By others' malice on her ruin driven,Only of sweet simplicity she fell:—Wherein who fall may fall unto the skies;—And being foolish she was yet most wise,And took her trials patiently and well.
26And Aphrodite since her full defeatIs kinder and less jealous than before,And smiling on them both, calls Psyche sweet;But thinks her son less manly than of yore:Though still she holds his arm of some renown,When he goes smiting mortals up and down,Piercing their marrow with his weapons sore.
{184}
27So now in steadfast love and happy stateThey hold for aye their mansion in the sky,And send down heavenly peace on those who mate,In virgin love, to find their joy thereby:Whom gently Eros shooteth, and apartKeepeth for them from all his sheaf that dartWhich Psyche in his chamber pickt to try.
28Now in that same month Psyche bare a child,Who straight in heaven was named HedonèIn mortal tongues by other letters styled;Whom all to love, however named, agree:Whom in our noble English JOY we call,And honour them among us most of all,Whose happy children are as fair as she.
29ENVOYIT IS MY PRAYER THAT SHE MAY SMILE ON ALLWHO READ MY TALE AS SHE HATH SMILED ON ME.
{185}