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THE GOLDEN ASS, OR METAMORPHOSES |
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BOOK 4 The robbers' stronghold -- stories of their recent exploits -- arrival of the kidnapped girl Charite -- the robbers' housekeeper tells her the story of Cupid and Psyche to comfort her -- the story begun At about midday, when it was beginning to get hot under the blazing sun, we stopped at a village with some elderly people who were clearly on good terms with the bandits. Even an ass could see this from their instant recognition and exchange of greetings and long conversations, and from the fact that the robbers presented them with some things they took off my back, and were evidently telling them in a confidential whisper that they were the fruits of brigandage. Then they unloaded us and the other animals and turned us into a nearby field to graze. The prospect of sharing a meal with the other ass and my horse was not attractive, especially as I was still unused to dining off grass. However, just behind the stable I saw a kitchen-garden, and this, as I was now perishing with hunger, I boldly invaded. Having stuffed myself with vegetables, raw as they were, I invoked the whole company of heaven and began to prospect the surrounding area to see if I could find roses in bloom anywhere in the neighbouring gardens. There was nobody else about, so I was pretty confident that if I could sneak away and eat the necessary remedy while hidden in the undergrowth, I could quit my stooping four-footed posture and stand up straight again as a human being without any witnesses. Then while I was tossing about on this sea of thought, I saw a little way off a shady glen in a wood, and there, among all the different plants and luxuriant greenery, was the gleam of bright red roses. This grove I thought -- for my mind was not wholly that of an ass -- must belong to Venus and the Graces, seeing the royal splendour of that festive flower glowing there in its dark recesses. So, invoking the benign and propitious god of Success, I took off for the place with such a turn of speed that I felt more like a racehorse than an ass. But all my nimble and heroic efforts were powerless to outrun the perverse malignity of my Fortune. For when I got there it was not roses I saw, delicate and fresh, dripping with divine dew and nectar, sprung from happy briars with blessed thorns, nor was there a glen anywhere in sight, only a river-bank edged with a dense belt of trees. These trees have luxuriant foliage like the laurel and produce long cup-shaped flowers, pale red in colour; in spite of their total lack of smell the countrypeople, knowing no better, call them laurel-roses. To all animals they are deadly poison. Finding myself trapped in this way by Fate, I madly resolved to renounce my hopes of salvation and take this 'rose' poison of my own free will. But while I was hesitantly moving to pluck them, a young man, who was presumably the gardener whose vegetables I had plundered, had discovered the damage and came running at me in a fury with a big stick. He grabbed me and showered blows on me, so that my life would have been in danger if I had not eventually had the wit to come to my own assistance. Raising my haunches I let fly at him again and again with my rear hooves and then made my getaway, leaving him lying badly battered on the adjoining slope. But now there appeared over the hilltop a woman, evidently his wife; seeing him stretched out there half dead she rushed down to him wailing and weeping. Her pitiful outcry was likely to be my undoing then and there, for all the villagers, alarmed by her cries, whistled up their dogs and sicked them on from every quarter to tear me apart in their rage. At that moment I was sure I faced death, seeing this pack of huge hounds, capable of taking on bears or lions, bearing furiously down on me. Faced with this situation I gave up my plan of escape and galloped back to our stable. However, the villagers, having with some difficulty restrained their dogs, seized me and tied me to a ring with a stout rope; and would undoubtedly have finished me off with the beating which they proceeded to inflict, had not my belly, stuffed as it was with raw vegetables and so in a highly liquid state, contracted under the pain of the blows and shot out a jet of dung at them. Showered with this noisome fluid and repelled by the stench, my tormentors were driven off; leaving me and my battered behind to ourselves. Soon after this, as evening came on, the robbers led us out of the stable and loaded us, me especially, more heavily than ever. We were well into the next stage of our journey when I came to a decision. I was exhausted with marching, sinking under the weight of my load, worn out by beating, and my sore hooves were making me limp and stumble. We had arrived at a little gently gliding river, and I thought this offered me the opportunity I needed: I would deliberately let my legs go and collapse, resolutely determined not to get up and go on however hard they brat me, prepared indeed to die under their blows or even their sword-thrusts. I reckoned that in my weak and enfeebled state I was entitled to a discharge on medical grounds; surely the robbers would not want to hang around, but would be so eager to press on with their escape that they would divide my load between the other animals and then, as a more severe punishment than any they could devise, leave me a prey to the wolves and vultures. This admirable plan, however, was thwarted by a piece of shocking bad luck. The other ass, as if guessing and anticipating my design, suddenly feigned exhaustion, and collapsing under his load lay as if dead. Though they beat and goaded him and tried every way of getting him back on his feet, hauling him by the tail or the ears or the legs, he made no attempt to rise. At last, becoming weary of such a hopeless business, they put their heads together and decided not to delay their escape by dancing attendance any longer on an ass that was as good as dead or petrified. Dividing his load between me and the horse they drew their swords and cut all his hamstrings, then hauled him a little way off the road and threw him still breathing off the edge of the cliff into the valley below. With the fate of my unfortunate comrade before my eyes I then and there decided to abandon all tricks and deceits and to present myself to my masters in the role of a model ass. For I had overheard them telling each other that our next stopping-place was not far off and that this would bring our journey to a peaceful end, since it was their permanent headquarters. So, having climbed a gentle slope, we arrived at our destination, where our loads were taken off and stowed inside and, free at last from my burden I tried to shake off my weariness with a roll in the dust in lieu of a bath. The subject and the occasion itself demand that I here set out a description of the locality and the cave that was the robbers' abode. This will be an opportunity to put my literary talent to the proof, and also to enable you to judge accurately whether my mind and perceptions were those of an ass. There stood a mountain, wild and rugged, covered with dense woods and towering to a peak. Its steep sides, encircled by sharp and inaccessible crags, were traversed by deep ravines, full of gullies and choked with thorny vegetation; facing as they did every way they provided a natural defence. From the summit there gushed out an abundant spring which flowed down the slope in a cascade of silvery ripples; then, spreading out into many different branches, it filled the ravines with standing pools, so enclosing the whole area with a sort of landlocked sea or slow-moving river. Above the cave, on the lower slopes of the mountain, arose a high tower. By way of a wall, a stout palisade of closely woven hurdles, such as are used for sheep-pens, ran all round it, leaving a narrow entrance in front. A real bandits' reception-room it was, believe you me. There was nothing else there but a small hut roughly thatched with reed where, as I later discovered, a sentry-group of robbers chosen by lot mounted guard each night. One by one the robbers doubled themselves up and crept into the cave, leaving us securely tied up just outside the entrance. An old woman, bent with age, who seemed to be in sole charge of the welfare and comfort of all these young men, now appeared, and was instantly the target of violent abuse. 'All right,' they shouted, 'you undertaker's leavings, you disgrace to the human race, you reject of hell, are you going to sit there twiddling your thumbs and amusing yourself? What about some late-night refreshment to put heart into us after all our toils and dangers? All you ever do night and day is pour down neat wine without stopping for breath into that insatiable belly of yours.' Shaking with fear the old woman answered in a piping voice: 'But, gentlemen, my most valiant and faithful protectors, look what I've got waiting for you. There's quantities of savoury stew, done to a turn, all the bread you can eat, and lashings of wine poured out into the cups, which I've polished up specially; and the hot water's all ready as usual for a bath the moment you want it.' She had hardly finished speaking before they all stripped off and stood naked; after reviving themselves in the warmth of a blazing fire, they washed thoroughly in the hot water and rubbed themselves down with oil. Then they took their places at a dinner-table heaped high with good things. They had scarcely done so when there arrived a much larger group of men, also robbers as anybody could see, since like the others they carried in a mass of booty -- gold and silver coin and plate, and gold-embroidered silks. After likewise bathing and refreshing themselves, they joined their comrades at table, and some, chosen by lot, served the meal. As they ate and drank, it was every man for himself: they put away meat in mounds, bread in heaps, and wine non-stop by the gallon. Shouts and jests, talking and singing, abuse and badinage, were the order of the day -- it was the Lapiths and Centaurs all over again. In the middle of all this, one of them, the burliest of the lot, began to orate. 'Here's to us!' he proclaimed. 'We gallantly stormed the house of Milo of Hypata, we've a heap of booty won by our courage, and on top of that we've got back to base without losing a man --and, if it comes to that, with eight more feet on the strength. As for the rest of you, the Boeotian towns contingent, you've come back with heavy casualties and without your brave leader Lamachus, though I'd rate his life as more valuable than this stuff you've brought. What did for him, however it happened, was that he was too brave for his own good. But he was a hero, who will be held in remembrance and honour along with the great kings and generals of legend; whereas you, model brigands that you are, just go sneaking furtively round bath-houses and old women's hovels, ignominously filching bits of rubbish for your flea-market. The challenge was immediately taken up by one of the second group. 'You know perfectly well,' he answered, 'that large houses are much easier targets. That's because, even though there are servants all over a large house, every one is more concerned to look after himself than to safeguard his master's possessions. Simple people who live on their own, if they have any property, large or small, keep it dark, hide it away, and guard it fiercely, defending it with their lives. What happened to us will bear out what I'm saying. Directly we arrived at seven-gated Thebes we carried out the first step of our professional drill, a careful reconnaissance of the wealth of the locals. We found out that there was an enormously rich banker called Chryseros who took great pains to conceal his opulence for fear of being landed with the expense of public office. He lived on his own in seclusion, making do with a small but well-secured little house, sleeping in dirt and rags on bags of gold. So we decided to attack him first, scouting the idea of serious resistance from a lone individual and expecting to carry off all his wealth without exerting ourselves. 'That very night, as soon as it was dark, we mustered in front of the house. We decided not to try to slip the bolts or force the door, let alone break it down, since the noise might rouse the neighbourhood, when we should be done for. Then it was that our noble leader Lamachus, confident in his tried and tested courage, stealthily inserted his hand into the keyhole, intending to wrench the bar loose by force. But meanwhile, if you please, that blot on the human race Chryseros had been awake and taking it all in, and now, slowly creeping up with noiseless footsteps in total silence, he suddenly with one mighty blow fastened our leader's hand to the panel of the door by a huge nail. Then, leaving him there fatally crucified, he climbed to the roof of his hovel and shouted at the top of his voice to summon the neighbours; calling each one by name he gave out that his house had suddenly caught fire, reminding them that this involved the safety of them all. So everybody, frightened by the danger next door, came running in alarm to help. 'Now we found ourselves faced with two equally painful alternatives, to let ourselves be captured or to desert our comrade. On the spur of the moment we hit on a drastic solution: with one carefully directed blow we cut our leader's arm right off at the elbow joint, and leaving the rest of it there we tied up the wound with a thick bandage so that there should be no trail of blood to show which way we went, and hurriedly made off with what remained of Lamachus. We desperately wanted to do our duty by him, but we were hurried into headlong flight by the menacing roar of the crowd and fear of the danger that threatened us, while he could neither keep up with us nor be safely left behind. That hero, lofty of soul and pre-eminent in courage, repeatedly begged and prayed and tearfully adjured us, by the right hand of Mars, by our oath of loyalty, to save a faithful comrade from both torture and capture. How could a brave brigand outlive the loss of his hand, which was his only means of plunder and murder? He would count himself supremely lucky to die willingly by a comrade's hand. But when nothing he could say would induce any of us to commit this self-elected parricide, he drew his sword with his other hand, kissed it lingeringly, and with a mighty thrust drove it straight into his heart. Then we, having paid tribute to our great-hearted leader's valour, wrapped what remained of him carefully in a linen sheet and entrusted it to the sea to hide. And so now our Lamachus is at rest with a whole element as his tomb. 'He then ended his life in a manner worthy of his manly virtues. Alcimus, however, could not persuade cruel Fortune to favour his cunning enterprise. He had broken into an old woman's hovel while she was asleep and gone upstairs into her bedroom; but instead of disposing of her then and there by throttling her as he should have done, he chose to throw out her things item by item through the window, which was a largeish one, for us to carry off -- at least that was the idea. Having done a thorough job of heaving everything else out, he decided even to include the bed where the old girl was lying asleep. So he tipped her out of it and pulled off the bedclothes, which he was just going to send down after the rest, when the old bitch fell at his feet and pleaded with him: "Look, my son, why are you making a present of a poor old woman's miserable ragged bits and pieces to my rich neighbours? It's their house that this window overlooks." Hearing this, Alcimus was taken in by her cunning ruse and believed every word she said. Of course he was alarmed by the thought that not only what he had already thrown out but also what he had been going to throw out before he realized his mistake might be finding its way, not to his comrades, but into somebody else's house. So he craned out of the window to have a good look round, particularly to try to assess the wealth of this next-door house that the old woman talked of. This was an enterprising but imprudent move; while he was in this precarious position, with no eyes for anything but what he was looking at, the evil old hag gave him a sudden and unexpected push; feeble as it was, it was enough to send him hurtling down head first. This was from a considerable height, and also he fell on a large stone which lay underneath. His rib-cage was shattered and split open, and he vomited up torrents of blood from deep inside him; he did not suffer long, but died after telling us what had happened. We buried him as we had Lamachus, a worthy attendant on his leader. 'Discouraged by this double bereavement we now abandoned our Theban campaign and went on up to Plataea, the nearest town. There we found everybody talking about someone called Oemochares and the gladiatorial show he was going to put on. He was a man of noble birth, enormously rich and correspondingly generous, who was in the habit of providing popular entertainments of a splendour that matched his fortune. It would take more wit and eloquence than I am master of to do justice to each and every aspect of all his various preparations. There were gladiators renowned for their fighting prowess, hunters of proven speed and agility, and desperate criminals with nothing to lose who were being fattened up to fatten the beasts in their turn. There was an elaborate timber structure of several stories like a movable house, and brightly decorated enclosures for the wild-beast show. The number and variety of the animals beggared description, for Demochares had gone to endless trouble to import exotic species to serve as tombs for the condemned. On top of the rest of the outfit for this splendid show he had pretty well used up everything he possessed in procuring a large number of huge bears. Some of these had been caught locally, some bought for vast sums, and some were contributed by the competitive generosity of different friends; all of them he was feeding and looking after with no expense spared. 'However, these fine and lavish preparations to entertain the public did not escape the baleful glance of Envy. The bears, exhausted by their prolonged captivity, wilting in the summer heat, and enfeebled by lack of exercise, were attacked by a sudden infection to which nearly every one of them succumbed. On pretty well every street you could see the stranded corpses of these beasts lying half dead. The common people, whose life of squalid poverty forbade them to be fastidious in matters of diet and who had perforce to stay their shrunken stomachs with whatever free food they could find, however repellent, naturally fell on this feast which lay there for the taking. Seeing this, Eubulus here and I hit on an ingenious plan. Choosing a particularly large specimen, we carried off one of the bears to our hideout as if to prepare it for eating. There we skinned it neatly, taking special care to preserve the claws, and leaving the animal's head intact down to the neck-line; we scraped down the whole skin thoroughly, sprinkled it with fine ash, and laid it in the sun to dry. While the moisture was being drawn out of it by the blazing heat, we meanwhile had a fine feed on the meat and issued orders for the coming operation. It was decided that one of us, not just the strongest, but also the bravest, and who above all must be a volunteer, should dress in the bear's skin, and in that guise get himself introduced into Demochares' house. Then, at the right moment, at dead of night, it would be easy for him to open the door and let us in. 'Excited by this ingenious scheme many of our valiant brotherhood volunteered for the assignment. Of these Thrasyleon was chosen by popular acclaim to brave the dangers of this perilous stratagem; and, the skin being now pliant and soft to handle, he got into it with a cheerful expression. Then with minute stitches we sewed together the edges of the skin, covering over the seam, which in fact was scarcely noticeable, with the thick hair which surrounded it. We got Thrasyleon to push his head up through the top end of the animal's gullet where the neck had been hollowed out, and made small holes near the nostrils and eyes for him to see and hear through. Then we took our brave comrade, now every inch a bear, to a cage which we had picked up cheap, and into this he immediately marched with strong and steadfast step. 'These preliminaries taken care of, we addressed ourselves to the rest of our masquerade. We had got hold of the name of a Thracian called Nicanor, who was an intimate friend of Demochares, and concocted a letter which purported to come from him, saying that he had dedicated the first fruits of his hunting to embellish his old friend's games. Late in the evening, taking advantage of the darkness, we presented Demochares with the caged Thrasyleon and the spurious letter. Lost in admiration of the beast's size and delighted by his friend's timely generosity, he at once ordered ten gold pieces to be paid from his coffers to us, the bearers of these (as he thought) joyful tidings. People are naturally attracted by new and unexpected sights, so great crowds flocked to admire the beast; while Thrasyleon cleverly discouraged too close an inspection by frequent threatening charges at the bars. The whole town joined in celebrating the good fortune and happiness of Demochares, who after the wholesale loss of his animals had somehow managed with this fresh supply to outface Fortune. 'He now ordered the bear to be transferred immediately with all due care to his park in the country. Here, however, I intervened. "This bear," I said, "is tired out from the hot sun and the long journey. I would advise you, sir, not to introduce it into the company of a lot of other animals -- who, I'm told, aren't in very good health. Wouldn't it be better to look around for some open and well-ventilated place in your house, if possible: next to a pond, where it's cool? As I'm sure you know, this type of animal always makes its home in woods and damp caves and by pleasant springs." Demochares was alarmed by my warning, and remembering how many animals he had previously lost he agreed without more ado, and readily allowed us to choose a place for the cage. "And what's more," I said, "we are quite happy to mount guard by the cage all night. The bear is worn out with heat and harassment, and we'll do a more careful job of feeding and watering it at the proper time and in the way it's use to." "No thanks," he answered, we don't need any help from you. Most of my people have had plenty of practice in feeding bears." After this we took our leave. As we emerged from the city-gate we noticed a large tomb standing at some distance from the road in a retired and unfrequented spot. We found there a number of mouldering and half-closed coffins, the dwelling-places of men long turned to dust and ashes, and some of these we opened up as hiding-places for the booty we were expecting. In accordance with professional practice, we waited for the moon to set, the time when sleep, mounting its first and most vigorous offensive, attacks and overpowers the minds of men. Then, when the time came, our party armed itself and mustered outside Demochares' front door to keep our appointment with plunder. Thrasyleon was equally punctual in picking the exact time of night for banditry. Creeping out of his cage he lost no time in dispatching with his sword every one of the attendants who were sleeping nearby. Then he dealt similarly with the doorkeeper, and possessing himself of the man's key he opened the doors for us. In a moment we were inside and had taken complete possession of the house, and he was showing us the strongroom, where he had been quick to note a quantity of silver plate being put away the evening before. We at once broke it open by a concerted charge, and I told off the rest of the party to take as much gold or silver as they could carry and entrust it quickly to the incorruptible safekeeping of the dead, and then to come back at the double for another load. I meanwhile would act in the general interest by taking up a position near the front door and keeping a careful lookout in all directions while they were away --for I thought that the sight of the bear careering around the house would be enough to deter any of the household we might happen to wake up. Anybody, however strong and brave, encountering such a huge beast, especially at dead of night, would certainly take to his heels, lock the door of his room in a panic, and stay there. 'All this sound and careful planning, however, was thwarted by Ill Success. While I was on tenterhooks waiting for my comrades to return, a slave, woken up I suppose by the noise -- no doubt divine influence was at work -- quietly emerged and saw the bear running about all over the house. Without making a sound he withdrew and managed to pass on what he had seen to the entire household. Within seconds the whole place was filled with hordes of slaves. The darkness vanished in a blaze of light from torches, lamps, tapers, candles, and everything else you can think of. Every man jack of them emerged with a weapon of some kind; each one equipped with a cudgel or a spear or even a drawn sword, they blocked off all the entrances. At the same time they were sicking on their hunting-dogs -- long-eared shaggy brutes -- to bring the beast down. As the uproar grew I began to beat a gradual retreat, but as I was hiding behind the door I had a fine view of the wonderful show that Thrasyleon was putting up against the dogs. Though he knew his last hour had come, he remained true to himself, his comrades, and the courage which never left him, fighting back with the jaws of Cerberus yawning before him. Indeed, as long as the breath was in his body he kept up the role for which he had volunteered: with various bearlike postures and movements he would now retreat, now stand at bay, until finally he managed to get clear of the house. However, even in the open street he could not escape, for all the dogs from the neighbourhood -- a large and ferocious pack -- appeared in a body to join forces with the hunting dogs, who had likewise followed hot on his heels. It was a grim and pitiful spectacle to see our friend Thrasyleon surrounded and beset by these packs of ravening dogs and torn apart by innumerable bites. 'Finally I couldn't bear this painful sight any longer, and worming my way into the milling crowd I tried to assist my comrade discreetly in the only way possible by dissuading the leaders of the hunt. "This is an outrage!" I shouted. "This is a magnificent animal, and a valuable one, that we're destroying." However, my artful intervention did not help my unfortunate friend, for there now ran out of the house a tall strong fellow who without a moment's hesitation thrust a spear right into the bear's vitals. Another immediately followed suit, and then several more mastered their fears and competed with each other to come to close quarters and plunge in their swords. As for Thrasyleon, the pride and glory of our band, his great spirit, ever worthy to be held in honour, was finally taken by storm, but there was no surrender. True to his oath he let no human cry or scream escape him, but horribly mauled and grievously wounded as he was he went on bellowing and growling like a beast, and endured his inevitable doom with noble fortitude. And so his life he surrendered to destiny, but his glory he kept for himself. However, so great was the terror and awe that he had inspired in the mob that it was dawn -- broad day, indeed -- before anybody dared even to touch the beast, motionless as it was. Finally in fear and trembling a butcher, more daring than the rest, slit open the beast's belly and stripped our hero of his bear's skin. Thus Thrasyleon was lost to us, but in his glory he will live on. The rest of us hurriedly packed up the bundles which the faithful dead had been guarding for us and left the territory of Plataea by forced marches. On our way we pondered in our minds this fact: it is no wonder that Good Faith is nowhere to be found in this life, for she has gone to live among the spirits of the dead in disgust at human perfidy. And so, every man worn out with our heavy loads and the rough road, and mourning the loss of three comrades, we have brought back the booty you see.' At the end of this story they pledged the memory of their dead comrades in arms in neat wine drunk from gold cups; then they sang some hymns to Mars to propitiate him, and went to sleep for a while. To us the old woman doled out quantities of fresh barley without stint. My horse thought this generous spread, which he had all to himself, a real Salian banquet. As for me, I had only ever eaten barley finely milled and in the form of porridge, so I investigated the corner where the surplus bread was stored, and there I gave my jaws, which had become enfeebled and cobwebbed from long fasting, a good work-out. But then late at night the robbers woke up and took the field again; variously equipped, some armed with swords, some got up as ghosts, they marched off at a smart pace. As for me, not even the onset of sleep could check my steady and steadfast munching. When I was Lucius, I could leave the table content with one or two rolls; now, enslaved to my bottomless belly, I was already on my third basketful. I was still intent on my task when broad day found me at it. In the end, however, I was induced by my asinine sense of fitness to tear myself reluctantly away and slake my thirst at a nearby stream. Just then the robbers reappeared in an unusual state of excitement and agitation. They were carrying nothing whatever in the way of loot, not so much as a rag or bone; having turned out every man on the strength, armed to the teeth, all they had brought back was one young girl. You had only to look at her to see that she was of high birth, one of the provincial nobility, as her dress indicated -- and extremely desirable, even to an ass like me. They brought her into the cave, sobbing and tearing her hair and clothes, and tried to calm her distress with soothing words. 'You needn't be alarmed,' they told her, 'either about your life or your honour. It's only the pressure of poverty that has driven us to this calling. Just be patient while we realize our profit -- it won't be very long. Your parents are enormously rich, and however miserly they may be, they'll soon come up with a proper ransom for their own flesh and blood.' They went on with this sort of soft soap for some time, but it did nothing to assuage her grief. She simply put her head between her hands and sobbed and sobbed. They then called the old woman in and told her to sit by the girl and comfort her as best she could with soothing chit-chat while they went about their usual business. But nothing the old woman could say would divert the girl from her grief: she bewailed her fate with even more piercing cries and her whole body shook with her sobs -- I too was forced to weep in sympathy. 'Haven't I a right to be miserable?' she cried. 'Torn away from my beautiful home, my host of attendants, my dear servants, my honoured parents, made the booty and chattel of a calamitous robbery, imprisoned like a slave in this rocky dungeon, this torture-chamber, despoiled of all the luxuries to which I was born and bred, in peril of my life, among all these robbers and this horrible gang of cutthroats -- how can I stop weeping or even go on living?' She continued lamenting like this until, sick at heart, hoarse with crying, and completely worn out, she let her eyelids droop and dozed off. But her eyes had hardly closed when she suddenly started up from sleep like a madwoman and fell on herself even more violently, belabouring her breast with fierce blows and punching that lovely face of hers. The old woman pressed her to explain this fresh outbreak of grief; but all she would say, with an even deeper sigh, was; 'No, no, this is the end; I'm finished now, completely done for -- goodbye now to all hope of rescue. A noose or a sword or a clifftop, that's the only way left for me.' This irritated the old woman, and looking at her crossly she asked her what in God's name she was crying for and why when she had just got off nicely to sleep she should all of a sudden start up these overdone wailings again. 'I know what you're thinking,' she said; 'you're planning to do the lads out of the handsome profit they expect from your ransom. If you keep this up, I'll see to it myself, for all your tears -- and they don't cut much ice with robbers -- that you're burned alive.' The girl was frightened by this and kissed the old woman's hands. 'Have mercy on me, mother,' she said, 'and of your kindness and pity help me a little in my desperate plight. For, full of years as you are, I can't believe, when I look at your venerable white hairs, that compassion has altogether withered away in you. Now, listen to my story; it's a real tragedy. Imagine a handsome young man, the leader of his age-group. The city has unanimously elected him a Son of the People; he's also my cousin, just three years older than me. We were brought up together as children, and we grew up as inseparable companions in the same house, even sharing a room and a bed. We were pledged to each other by chaste affection on both sides, and we had for a long time been engaged to be married. Our parents had given their consent, he was named in the marriage-contract as my husband, and surrounded by a crowd of friends and relations who had come to honour the occasion he was sacrificing in the temples and shrines of the city. The whole house, a bower of laurel and ablaze with torchlight, was resounding to the marriage-hymn. My unhappy mother was embracing me and arraying me in my bridal finery, and with many loving kisses and many an anxious prayer was already looking forward to grandchildren -- when at that moment there was a sudden invasion of armed men, a scene of savage warfare, the glittering menace of naked blades. They did not set themselves to kill or plunder, but burst straight into our room in a tightly packed mass. None of our servants fought back or put up the least resistance, and they snatched me, half dead with pitiful fright and overcome by cruel terror, from my mother's arms. And that is how my marriage, like those of Atris and Protesilaus, was broken up and brought to nothing. But now my wretchedness has been renewed and redoubled by a dreadful nightmare. I thought I had been rudely snatched from my home, my room, my bridal chamber, and my bed, and was lost in the wilderness calling the name of my unfortunate husband; and he, just as he was when torn from my arms, perfumed and garlanded, was following in my tracks while I fled from him on feet over which I had no control. As he was loudly lamenting the rape of his beautiful wife and calling on the people to help him, one of the robbers, enraged by this troublesome pursuit, seized a large stone from the ground and with it killed my unhappy young husband. It was because I was terrified by this ghastly vision that I woke up in a sudden panic from my ill-omened sleep.' The old woman was sighing in sympathy with the girl's tears. 'Cheer up, little lady,' she answered, 'and don't be frightened by an empty dream -- it doesn't mean anything. Everybody says that daytime dreams are untrue; and what's more important, night-time dreams generally foretell the opposite of what actually happens. So weeping or being beaten, or sometimes even being murdered, is a promise of money and profit, whereas smiling or stuffing yourself with sweetmeats or meeting a lover is a sign that grief or illness and all sorts of other misfortunes are in store. But come, now let me take your mind off your troubles: here's a pretty fairy tale, an old woman's story' -- and with that she began The Story of Cupid and Psyche There was once a city with a king and queen who had three beautiful daughters. The two eldest were very fair to see, but not so beautiful that human praise could not do them justice The loveliness of the youngest, however, was so perfect that human speech was too poor to describe or even praise it satisfactorily. Indeed huge numbers of both citizens and foreigners, drawn together in eager crowds by the fame of such an extraordinary sight, were struck dumb with admiration of her unequalled beauty; and putting right thumb and forefinger to their lips they would offer outright religious worship to her as the goddess Venus. Meanwhile the news had spread through the nearby cities and adjoining regions that the goddess born of the blue depths of the sea and fostered by its foaming waves had made public the grace of her godhead by mingling with mortal men; or at least that, from a new fertilization by drops from heaven, not sea but earth had grown another Venus in the flower of her virginity. And so this belief exceeded all bounds and gained ground day by day, ranging first through the neighbouring islands, then, as the report made its way further afield, through much of the mainland and most of the provinces. Now crowds of people came flocking by long journeys and deep-sea voyages to view this wonder of the age. No one visited Paphos or Cnidos or even Cythera to see the goddess herself; her rites were abandoned, her temples disfigured, her couches trampled, her worship neglected; her statues were ungarlanded, her altars shamefully cold and empty of offerings. It was the girl to whom prayers were addressed, and in human shape that the power of the mighty goddess was placated. When she appeared each morning it was the name of Venus, who was far away, that was propitiated with sacrifices and offerings; and as she walked the streets the people crowded to adore her with garlands and flowers. This outrageous transference of divine honours to the worship of a mortal girl kindled violent anger in the true Venus, and unable to contain her indignation, tossing her head and protesting in deep bitterness, she thus soliloquized: 'So much for me, the ancient mother of nature, primeval origin of the elements, Venus nurturer of the whole world: I must go halves with a mortal girl in the honour due to my godhead, and my name, established in heaven, is profaned by earthly dirt! It seems that I am to be worshipped in common and that I must put up with the obscurity of being adored by deputy, publicly represented by a girl a being who is doomed to die! Much good it did me that the shepherd whose impartial fairness was approved by great love preferred me for my unrivalled beauty to those great goddesses! But she will rue the day, whoever she is, when she usurped my honours. I'll see to it that she regrets this beauty of hers to which she has no right.' So saying, she summoned that winged son of hers, that most reckless of creatures, whose wicked behaviour flies in the face of public morals, who armed with torch and arrows roams at night through houses where he has no business, ruining marriages on every hand, committing heinous crimes with impunity, and never doing such a thing as a good deed. Irresponsible as he already was by nature, she aroused him yet more by her words; and taking him to the city and showing him Psyche -- this was the girl's name -- she laid before him the whole story of this rival beauty. Groaning and crying out in indignation, 'By the bonds of a mother's love,' she said, 'I implore you, by the sweet wounds of your arrows, by the honeyed burns made by your torch, avenge your mother -- avenge her to the full. Punish mercilessly that arrogant beauty, and do this one thing willingly for me -- it's all I ask. Let this girl be seized with a burning passion for the lowest of mankind, some creature cursed by Fortune in rank, in estate, in condition, someone so degraded that in all the world he can find no wretchedness to equal his own.' With these words, she kissed her son with long kisses, open-mouthed and closely pressed, and then returned to the nearest point of the seashore. And as she set her rosy feet on the surface of the moving waves, all at once the face of the deep sea became bright and calm. Scarcely had she formed the wish when immediately, as if she had previously ordered it, her marine entourage was prompt to appear. There came the daughters of Nereus singing in harmony, Portunus with his thick sea-green beard, Salacia, the folds of her robe heavy with fish, and little Palaemon astride his dolphin. On all sides squadrons of Tritons cavorted over the sea. One softly sounded his loud horn, a second with a silken veil kept off the heat of her enemy the Sun, a third held his mistress's mirror before her face, and others yoked in pairs swam beneath her car. Such was the retinue that escorted Venus in her progress to Ocean. Psyche meanwhile, for all her striking beauty, had no joy of it. Everyone feasted their eyes on her, everyone praised her, but no one, king, prince, or even commoner, came as a suitor to ask her in marriage. Though all admired her divine loveliness, they did so merely as one admires a statue finished to perfection. Long ago her two elder sisters, whose unremarkable looks had enjoyed no such widespread fame, had been betrothed to royal suitors and achieved rich marriages; Psyche stayed at home an unmarried virgin mourning her abandoned and lonely state, sick in body and mind, hating this beauty of hers which had enchanted the whole world. In the end the unhappy girl's father, sorrowfully suspecting that the gods were offended and fearing their anger, consulted the most ancient oracle of Apollo at Miletus, and implored the great god with prayers and sacrifices to grant marriage and a husband to his slighted daughter. But Apollo, though Greek and Ionian, in consideration for the writer of a Milesian tale, replied in Latin: On mountain peak, O King, expose the maid The king had once accounted himself happy; now, on hearing the utterance of the sacred prophecy, he returned home reluctant and downcast, to explain this inauspicious reply, and what they had to do, to his wife. There followed several days of mourning, of weeping, of lamentation. Eventually the ghastly fulfillment of the terrible oracle was upon them. The gear for the poor girl's funereal bridal was prepared; the flame of the torches died down in black smoke and ash; the sound of the marriage-pipe was changed to the plaintive Lydian mode; the joyful marriage-hymn ended in lugubrious wailings; and the bride wiped away her tears with her own bridal veil. The whole city joined in lamenting the sad plight of the afflicted family, and in sympathy with the general grief all public business was immediately suspended. However, the bidding of heaven had to be obeyed, and the unfortunate Psyche was required to undergo the punishment ordained for her. Accordingly, amid the utmost sorrow, the ceremonies of her funereal marriage were duly performed, and escorted by the entire populace Psyche was led forth, a living corpse, and in tears joined in, not her wedding procession, but her own funeral. While her parents, grief-stricken and stunned by this great calamity, hesitated to complete the dreadful deed, their daughter herself encouraged them: 'Why do you torture your unhappy old age with prolonged weeping? Why do you weary your spirit -- my spirit rather -- with constant cries of woe? Why do you disfigure with useless tears the faces which I revere? Why by tearing your eyes do you tear mine? Why do you pull out your white hairs? Why do you beat your breasts, those breasts which to me are holy? These, it seems, are the glorious rewards for you of my incomparable beauty. Only now is it given to you to understand that it is wicked Envy that has dealt you this deadly blow. Then, when nations and peoples were paying us divine honours, when with one voice they were hailing me as a new Venus, that was when you should have grieved, when you should have wept, when you should have mourned me as already lost. Now I too understand, now I see that it is by the name of Venus alone that I am destroyed. Take me and leave me on the rock to which destiny has assigned me. I cannot wait to enter on this happy marriage, and to see that noble bridegroom of mine. Why should I postpone, why should I shirk my meeting with him who is born for the ruin of the whole world?' After this speech the girl fell silent, and with firm step she joined the escorting procession. They came to the prescribed crag on the steep mountain, and on the topmost summit they set the girl and there they all abandoned her; leaving there too the wedding torches with which they had lighted their path, extinguished by their tears, with bowed heads they took their way homeward. Psyche's unhappy parents, totally prostrated by this great calamity, hid themselves away in the darkness of their shuttered palace and abandoned themselves to perpetual night. Her, however, fearful and trembling and lamenting her fate there on the summit of the rock, the gentle breeze of softly breathing Zephyr, blowing the edges of her dress this way and that and filling its folds, imperceptibly lifted up; and carrying her on his tranquil breath smoothly down the slope of the lofty crag he gently let her sink and laid her to rest on the flowery turf in the bosom of the valley that lay below.
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