could refuse no longer. Again he caused the sisters to fall into a deep
sleep, and again Zephyrus bore them to the palace where Psyche awaited
them.
But this time the sisters brought but little joy with them. All the
while they had been away they had been growing more and more envious of
Psyche, so that now they could scarcely hide from her their jealousy of
her good fortune.
“Why should Psyche have all these things,” said they to each other, “and
we have nothing except such gifts as she is pleased to make to us?”
Then they began to talk to her about her husband. “He must be some
horrible monster,” said they. “Otherwise why should he only come in
darkness and never let you see him? No doubt he is the very monster for
whom you were left upon the mountain. Oh, Psyche! Your fate is surely
most unhappy in that you are married to such a creature.”
At first Psyche tried not to listen to them, but still they talked and
whispered until at last she became frightened, and each night she
dreaded the coming of her husband, fearing he was indeed some monster,
and that, in the end, he would devour her.
Then came the last night that her sisters were to be with her, and just
before they went to rest they called Psyche to their chamber and gave
her a lamp and a dagger.
“Dearest sister, we wish, if possible to save you,” said they. “Here are
a lamp and a dagger. To-night, when your husband is sleeping, you must
rise quietly from his side and take the lamp and look at him. Then if,
as we believe, you find he is a monster, drive this dagger into his
heart. So you will rid the world of him and save yourself alive, for
unless you do this, he will certainly sometime destroy you.”
Trembling Psyche took the lamp and the dagger and promised to hide them
in the little room that was beyond her sleeping chamber and to use the
dagger as they directed if she found that what they feared were so. Then
she kissed her sisters farewell, for she knew the time had come for them
to leave her.
That night Eros came to Psyche as usual, and she let him know nothing of
what she and her sisters had planned against him. He was so gentle
toward her, and so tender that she could not but love him, and then she
remembered her sisters’ warnings and hardened her heart against him.
She waited until he was sleeping, and then she slipped away and took up
the lamp in one hand and the dagger in the other. Returning, she held
the lamp above him and looked down at him.
What were her joy and awe and wonder to find it was no monster, but
Eros, the God of Love himself who was her husband.
As she still bent above him, entranced by his beauty, one drop of hot
oil from the lamp fell upon his shoulder.
Then Eros sprang up from his slumbers and looked at her with grief and
indignation.
“What have you done!” he cried. “Oh, unhappy one! Why did you not obey
my warnings? Now I must leave you, and grief and sorrow must be your
portion. Farewell, unhappy Psyche.”
With these words he vanished from before her, and at the same time the
palace and the gardens and all that were in them faded away like the
mist of the morning.
Psyche was alone upon a wide and desolate plain. Dawn was breaking, and
a cold wind blew about her.
“Eros! Eros!” cried Psyche; but no one answered.
Then Psyche wept aloud in bitter despair; and she rose and wrapped her
garments about her against the wind and set off across the plain.
For a long time she journeyed on, but whither she knew not, until at
last she came to a wood and heard a sound of piping. She followed the
sound and presently came to a place where the god Pan sat, playing upon
his pipes, and all about him creatures of the wood, both large and
small, had gathered to listen to his music.
Then Psyche cried to him in her grief. “Oh, Pan, you who wander far and
near, tell me where is Eros, that I may follow him and find him.”
But Pan answered, “I know not, Psyche. Ask Demeter, the Earth-mother.
She is very wise, and if he is on this earth, she is the one who can
tell you where to find him.”
So Psyche went on farther and came to where Demeter, the kind
Earth-mother, was watching the fields and meadows and the harvesters at
their work.
Then Psyche said to her, “Oh, Demeter, you who know all things, tell me
where my husband Eros has fled to that I may follow and find him.”
The Earth-mother answered, “He is not on earth, Psyche. When the hot
oil fell upon him and burned him, he fled back to Olympus, the home of
the gods, for it is there his mother Aphrodite dwells. Now he is with
her, for she and she alone can heal the wound that you have caused him.”
Then Psyche wept even more bitterly still, and she said, “I will go to
Aphrodite and tell her of my grief and sorrow, and then it may be that
she will let me speak with Eros, and that he will forgive me.”
But Demeter replied, “Be careful, Psyche, for Aphrodite hates you with a
bitter hatred, and if she could she would gladly destroy you. Eros, too,
is angry with you, and you can hardly hope he will forgive you, for you
have caused him great sorrow and suffering.”
“Nevertheless,” said Psyche, “I will go to Aphrodite, for unless Eros
will forgive me and take me back into his love, I do not care to live.”
So Psyche journeyed on and on until at last she came to Olympus and to
the place where Aphrodite had her dwelling. When the goddess saw Psyche
she was glad at heart, for she thought, “Now Psyche has come to me it
will be a strange thing if I cannot get her entirely into my power and
punish her as she deserves.” But even as she thought thus, she wondered
at Psyche’s beauty, for it was very great.
Then Psyche asked if she might speak with Eros, but the goddess answered
harshly, “Eros has no wish to see you. You deceived and wounded him so
that he fled to me for comfort. But I will set you a task to prove you,
and if you can perform it, then perhaps I will speak of you to Eros and
plead with him to forgive you; but if you fail, then you shall give
yourself over to me, for me to do with you as I please.”
And Psyche answered, “No task is too hard for me if only Eros will
forgive me.”
So Aphrodite took her into a room where there was a great heap of every
kind of grain, barley and millet and wheat and poppy and beans and many
others, and they were all mixed together so that it was difficult to
tell one from another.
Then Aphrodite said, “Your task is to separate these seeds one from
another. Each kind must be put by itself in a separate heap, and all
this must be done before evening.” So saying, Aphrodite turned away and
left her.
As Psyche looked at the heap of grain, she knew the task that Aphrodite
had set her was one that it was impossible to perform, and she was
frightened at the thought of what Aphrodite might do to her if she
failed.
Now though Eros was still angry with Psyche, he had no wish to leave her
entirely to the cruelty of his mother, so he sent an army of ants to
help her. Thousands upon thousands he sent, and the ants seized the
grains and dragged them apart, each kind to itself, while Psyche watched
and wondered. As if by magic the heap was separated, and each kind of
grain was gathered off by itself, and when the task was finished the
ants disappeared again; not one of them was left.
Toward evening Aphrodite came to the room where she had left Psyche, and
her heart was filled with triumph, for she had no doubt but that she
would find the task unfinished and would then have the Princess in her
power.
But what was her rage and wonder to find the grains separated and lying
in different heaps about the room, each kind by itself as she had
commanded.
“And now will you ask Eros to forgive me?” asked Psyche timidly.
But Aphrodite answered, “Wait until to-morrow. Then we will talk of it.”
But the next day the goddess set another task for Psyche. She bade her
go out to where her sheep were pastured, and fetch her back a bagful of
their golden wool.
Now the sheep of Aphrodite were very fierce and terrible, so that no one
might approach them without being torn to pieces. This Psyche knew, but
she thought, “Better to perish at once than suffer from the wrath of
Aphrodite.”
So she took the bag the goddess gave her and set out for the pasture.
But on the way she met Pan, and he had pity on her because of her beauty
and her sorrow.
“Psyche, do not venture near the pasture,” he warned her. “Wait until
evening when the sheep are resting and then turn aside into yonder wood,
and gather the wool you will find there in the thickets; for in the heat
of the day the sheep take shelter there, and their wool catches on the
thorns and briers and is torn from them.”
Gratefully Psyche thanked him for his advice, and she waited until on
toward evening, and then stole into the wood and there about her, on
thorny branches, glittered the tufts of golden wool the sheep had left
behind them. Psyche gathered them, handful after handful, until her bag
was full, and then she hastened back with it to Aphrodite.
When the goddess saw that again Psyche had succeeded, her heart was hot
within her. But when the Princess asked her, “Will you not yet plead for
me with Eros?” the goddess answered, “Wait until to-morrow. It may be
that he himself may wish to see you.”
But on the morrow it was a new task that she set for Psyche. She gave
her a crystal urn, and bade her take it to the fountain of Oblivion,
and there fill it with water, and fetch it back with her.
Now the fountain of Oblivion flows forth black and cold as ice from a
deep crevice in a rock at the top of a high mountain, and the rock is so
steep that it is impossible for any human being to climb it. Thence the
waters pour down through a deep channel, and this channel is guarded on
either side by dragons that never sleep.
Psyche took the urn and set forth upon her journey, and as she journeyed
on her way she wept, for she knew that no one could go near the stream
of Oblivion and live, because of the dragons that guarded it.
But once more Eros had pity on her, and he asked of Zeus, the
All-Father, that he would lend him his eagle, that it might take the urn
and carry it to the fountain and fill it, and return with it to Psyche.
Zeus, the All-Father did not refuse, and so as Psyche sat resting by the
wayside, the eagle swept down upon her, and caught the urn from her
hand, and flew away with it.
And now Psyche believed she was indeed lost, for how could she return to
Aphrodite and tell her that not only had she failed to fetch the water,
but that the crystal urn had been stolen from her also.
But while she stood there, afraid either to return or to go forward, she
heard again a great beating of wings, and the eagle returned to her. She
saw that he still had the urn, but now it was full of the dark and icy
water for which she had been sent.
Then Psyche rejoiced and took the urn from the eagle and hastened back
to Aphrodite. When the goddess saw that once more Psyche had fulfilled
her bidding, her brow grew black with fury.
“One more task, and one more only will I set you,” said the goddess.
“Take this box and journey to the lower regions where Persephone is
Queen; beg from her a bit of her beauty and bring it back to me in this
box, for the Feast of the Gods is soon to be given, and I wish to adorn
myself with it.”
And now Psyche indeed believed herself lost, for never had human being
journeyed to those lower regions where Persephone was Queen and returned
again to the green earth above. In her despair she thought, “Better that
I should perish at once than suffer longer from the anger of Aphrodite,”
and she went up to the top of a high tower, intending to throw herself
from it and so put an end to her sorrows.
But this tower was an enchanted place, and when she had climbed to the
top of it, a voice spoke to her and bade her take courage.
“It is possible to do as Aphrodite has commanded and still live,” said
the voice. “Only listen carefully and do in all things as thou shalt now
be directed, and thou mayest win for her the beauty she asks.”
The voice then told her she must go to the city of Achaia. Near to it
was a mountain; in this mountain was a gap, narrow and dark, and from
this gap a pathway led down to the lower regions where Persephone was
Queen. It was this path that Psyche must follow.
“But take with thee in thy mouth two pieces of silver money,” said the
voice, “and in each hand a piece of barley bread soaked in honey, for
these thou wilt need if thou wouldst reach the palace of Persephone in
safety.” The voice also told her that after she had followed the path
for a short distance, she would meet an old man driving a lame ass
loaded with wood. This old man would beg and beseech her to help him,
but she must pay no heed, but pass on in silence, for it was Aphrodite
who would send him there to tempt her to give up either the bread or
money.
Soon after she would come to the great black river Styx, and there she
would find the boatman Charon waiting. He it is who ferries the souls of
the dead across the water. After she had entered the boat she was to
allow Charon to take from her lips one of the two pieces of money in
payment for ferrying her over. As she crossed a face would rise above
the water and beg her for the other piece of money, but still she must
keep silence and pay no heed to any entreaties, for this face also was a
snare set for her by Aphrodite, to make her give up the other piece of
money.
After she had crossed the river, she would see before her the palace of
Persephone, and at the gate the fierce three-headed dog Cerberus, who
stands ever guarding it against those who would enter. To him she must
give a piece of the bread, still without speaking, and then he would
allow her to pass by him.
She would then be brought before Persephone, but here, also, would
danger await her. A feast would be set before her, and she would be
urged to eat, but no crumb or drop must pass her lips, for whosoever
eats or drinks with Persephone may never again return from her palace to
the green world of sunshine above. But if she were steadfast and neither
ate nor drank, nor spoke one word, Persephone would give her in the box
the beauty that Aphrodite desired. Then on her return she must give the
second piece of bread to Cerberus, that he might let her pass, and to
Charon the other piece of money, that he might ferry her over in safety.
“But oh, Psyche, open not the box, nor look within it,” counseled the
voice, “for if thou shouldst raise the lid, then all thy labors will
have been in vain, and the wrath of Aphrodite will surely overtake
thee.”
Until the voice was silent, Psyche stood and listened, and all that was
said she stored away in her heart and remembered; and when it was still
she came down at once from the tower and set out for the city of Achaia.
Long and rough was the journey, but at last she came to the city, and
there she procured for herself the two pieces of silver money and the
barley bread soaked with honey. With these she set out for the mountain
that lay over beyond the city. There she found the gap of which the
voice had told her, and she followed the path that led down from it, and
always away from the green and sunlit world above her and toward the
darker world of the lower regions where Persephone reigns.
Before she had gone far, she met the old man driving the ass, even as
the voice had warned her, and he looked so poor and miserable, and
begged so piteously for help, that Psyche’s heart melted within her, and
she longed to give him either bread or money, but she remembered the
voice and its warnings and passed by him without speaking.
Soon she came to the river, and saw the boat lying there, and the dark
boatman Charon. She stepped into the boat, and he took from her lips one
of the pieces of silver. In silence he rowed her out upon the river.
Then up through the water rose a face, and two hands were stretched out
to her; and it seemed to Psyche the face was the face of her father. He
begged and pleaded with her to give him the other piece of money, that
Charon might row him also across the water.
Then it seemed to Psyche that it would break her heart to refuse him,
but again she remembered the voice that had warned her, and she knew
that the face and the hands were only an appearance caused by Aphrodite,
and that it was sent there to tempt her so that she would give up her
money and never be able to return from those lower regions. So she kept
silence, and the face and hands sank back under the water out of her
sight.
[Illustration: Soon she came to the river, and saw the boat lying there.
_Page 270_]
Soon after she came to the other side of the river and stepped out from
the boat; there she saw before her a palace more beautiful than any she
had ever beheld except the one where she had lived in joy with Eros. But
before the gateway stood the three-headed dog Cerberus, and his
appearance was very terrible, and his barkings so loud and fierce that
Psyche trembled.
Then she threw to him one of the pieces of bread soaked in honey, and at
once he was silent and allowed her to pass by him and enter the palace.
There within the palace everything was very beautiful, but the most
beautiful thing in it was Persephone. She made Psyche welcome, and soft
cushions were given her to rest on, and a magnificent feast was set
before her. Psyche looked at it with longing.
“Eat, my child,” said Persephone, “for your journey has been long, and
this food and drink will refresh you.” But Psyche refused.
Then at last Persephone said, “I know why you have come,--that it is to
carry back with you a portion of my beauty. Give me the box you brought
with you.”
Half doubting her, Psyche gave her the box and Persephone took it and
went away; but soon she returned again and gave the box back into
Psyche’s hands.
“Take it,” said Persephone. “Well and wisely hast thou performed thy
task. Now return to Aphrodite and give her the box, for in it is the
beauty for which she sent thee.”
Then Psyche, still in silence, took the box, and hastened away from the
castle and returned the way she had come. When Cerberus raised his
dreadful barking, she threw him the other piece of bread, and he was
silent and allowed her once more to pass in safety.
Soon she came again to the river, and found the dark boatman waiting,
and she entered his boat, and he took from her the second piece of money
and rowed her back to the other side.
There Psyche left him and followed in haste along the path that led to
the upper world and sunlight, but on the way she was weary and sat down
to rest. Then she looked at the box she carried, and more and more she
longed to see the gift of beauty that Persephone had sent to Aphrodite.
At last her curiosity grew so great that it was like a fire burning her,
and she could bear it no longer, but opened the box and looked inside.
Then at once the beauty that was in it rose like a pale mist and hovered
over Psyche’s head, and she fell into a deep slumber.
Now indeed the wrath of Aphrodite would have destroyed her as she lay
there helpless, had not Eros come to her to protect and save her. For he
was now cured of his wound, and his love for Psyche had returned, and
his pain and the anger he had felt toward her were forgotten. So he came
to where she lay, and caught her up, and carried her to Zeus, who reigns
high on Olympus. And Eros entreated Zeus to protect Psyche from the
anger of his mother and to make her also a goddess, so that she need no
longer fear Aphrodite.
To this Zeus consented, and he touched Psyche, and woke her from her
sleep, and made of her a goddess.
Then she was made welcome by all the other gods and goddesses, and
Aphrodite was obliged to give up her anger, for it is the will of Zeus
that there shall be peace among all those who dwell on high Olympus.
After that a great marriage feast was prepared in honor of Eros and
Psyche, and to it came all the gods and goddesses, and drank and
feasted. Then Eros took his bride away to a palace that Zeus had given
them, and which was even more magnificent than the one where Eros had
first carried Psyche; and there they lived together in great joy and
happiness.
But Psyche’s two sisters were punished as they deserved, for Eros
appeared to each one of them in a dream and promised that if she would
go to the top of a high cliff and throw herself over, then he would take
her as a wife in place of Psyche. Each of them believed her dream, and
each secretly, and unknown to the other, went to the cliff and threw
herself over, and so perished miserably.
But Psyche lived happy forever after in the palace in high Olympus with
her husband Eros.
[Illustration]
* * * * *
_Fairy Tales from Old Worlds Across the Sea_
TALES OF FOLK AND FAIRIES
_By_ KATHARINE PYLE
Author of
“Wonder Tales Retold,” “In the Green Forest,” etc.
With Illustrations by the author.
From the old worlds across the seas come these fairy tales,--from
Scotland and Scandinavia, from the Cossacks and the Russians and the
Serbians, from Persia and India and Arabia and Bengal. There are stories
of enchanted princes and bewitched princesses, of brave deeds and clever
ones, of wonderful things like talking eggs and a magic pipe and a
carpet that flew and a turban that made its wearer invisible. There are
tales for boys, like that one of the brave lad who killed the
“Stoorworm”; there are stories for girls, as that one about the wise
girl who could guess the hardest riddle the King could ask. And there
are stories about animals and birds for both boys and girls, such as
“The Jackal and the Alligator” and the story of the beautiful black
horse that befriended the widow’s son.
They have all been translated directly from the folk-lore of these
far-away countries and tell of the wonderful things that used to happen
there commonly enough when the world was young and people had not lost
their faith in witches and enchantments. American children will enjoy
them quite as much as do their little cousins across the water.
LITTLE, BROWN & CO., PUBLISHERS
34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON
* * * * *
_Fifteen old-world fairy tales, taken from the folk-lore of a dozen
different lands_
TALES OF WONDER AND MAGIC
_By_ KATHARINE PYLE
Author of
“Wonder Tales Retold,” “In the Green Forest,” “Tales of Folk and
Fairies,” etc.
With illustrations by the author.
_12 mo._ _Cloth._ _314 pages_
This volume of fairy tales includes stories from Ireland, Wales, Japan,
the East Indies, Sweden, Denmark, etc. They tell of enchanted princes
and princesses, of brave and wonderful deeds, of magic worked by evil
demons and overcome by the greater power of good spirits.
Sometimes there is a beautiful princess to be rescued; sometimes a
fortune to be won; sometimes a hard task to be performed,--an impossible
feat for ordinary lads and lassies. But in fairy tales nothing is
impossible to youth and beauty and courage, so these shepherd lads and
princesses, kings’ sons and peasant maidens set forth on their wonderful
adventures with brave hearts, and always win through to safety. They are
the sort of stories to enthrall the young folk of to-day.
LITTLE, BROWN & CO., PUBLISHERS
34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON